#this little baby was so precious and she will NOT be forgotten | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jiniretracha · 1 month ago

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ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐 ꕤ

Lee Felix x fem!reader: virginity loss

summary: Felix, your roommate and best friend, just got back from a date after being rejected because of a simple fact: he was a virgin. What a better way of showing how good of a friend you were than by helping him out?

warnings: smut, flufffff (a lot of it, like i'm sick already), i haven't proofread this so forgive me for any mistakes lol

word count: 2.5k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

You heard the door slamming shut from your room and you made your way to the living room with a frown on your face.

“Back so soon?” you asked Felix, your roommate.

He shrugged and left his coat on the hanger with a sigh. He then sat on the couch with a huff and looked at you. “It went great”

“Yeah, sure” you said with sarcasm. You sat next to him and put a hand on his arm. “Can you tell me what happened? I just wanna know if I have to go to that bitch’s house and kick her ungrateful ass” you tried to make him laugh.

He gave you an airy chuckle and looked down. “It went well until the end, like it always does” he told you.

You bit your lip trying to contain the happiness. You knew it was selfish but your roommate, your best friend since you were little kids, had been your crush, the person you knew you’ve grown undying love for for such a long time, you’ve forgotten a time where you weren’t in love with Felix.

“You’ve been on 4 dates already, what made her change her mind?” you asked, genuinely intrigued.

Felix looked at you and then away, and you noticed his cheeks were tinted red. “I… uhm…” he stammered. “We started to get to know each other better and then, well, she grabbed my hand and gave me the eyes” he explained and you felt the jealousy starting to build inside your stomach.

“Ah-ha” you nodded.

“And well, I got nervous and I told her- I- I told her…” he stammered again.

“You told her what, Lix?”

“That I’m a virgin” he mumbled.

Your eyes widened.

Felix.

The most beautiful human on the planet.

Probably the most amazing and fuckable person to ever exist.

Is a virgin.

Your panties were soaked at that point. It got you more than you wanted to admit.

"You're a virgin?" you asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah..."

“And what? She rejected you because of that?” you asked him.

Felix nodded.

What a dumb, stupid bitch.

“Wow, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, really” you told him. “What’s her problem? Why would that be an inconvenience to her? It shows that she only cared about sleeping with you. I hate to say it, Lix”

“I know”

“We both know you deserve better. Someone who loves you for you and not because they’re only interested in sleeping with you” you told him, feeling yourself getting angrier.

How could someone treat this beautiful piece of sunshine like this?

Felix looked at you. “You think that I’m worth it?” he asked in a small voice, and it made you want to wrap your arms around him and protect him.

You grabbed his cheeks and made him look at you. “Of course, baby” you said, caressing his cheeks. “Don’t you know how precious you are? You’re perfect, Felix” you stated.

His eyes turned teary and they looked down at your lips. “Y/N…” he mumbled. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

You felt like cartwheeling and jumping around the room. But you remembered that he had just come from a date and was feeling vulnerable. Kissing him would only make things worse.

“Lix… you’re vulnerable from a failed date” you said. “When you’re better, we’ll see, okay?”

“No, no, no” he said, as he felt your hands pulling away. “I’m… I’ve been in love with you for such a long time and these dates… these useless dates… I’ve had them only because I thought you didn’t love me back and- well, I- I want to be with you, Y/N” he said, rubbing his face on your hand like a cat.

“Felix… what?” you asked, completely dumbfounded.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel like this as well, I- I’m-”

You cut him off by kissing the breath right out of him. He moaned and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him til you were lying on the couch on top of him. Your legs straddled his waist while you devoured his pouty lips.

You could feel Felix’s boner start to poke against you and you smirked, pressing your hips over his crotch.

The man whined against your lips, pushing his head onto the couch.

“Y/N…” he whispered, the lust in his eyes made you clench around nothing.

You smiled at him and pressed kisses on his neck. “What?” you whispered and bit at the skin of his neck. “What, baby?” you asked huskily.

He whined and grabbed your hair, pulling you back to make you look at him. “I’m… I’m ready” he said.

You frowned. “Ready for what?”

“To um…” he said and your eyes widened a little, immediately getting what he was going at.

“You want me to take your virginity, Lix?” you asked him, and you begged internally for him to say yes to you.

His hips pushed against yours, poking his erection directly onto your clit, making you gasp and roll your hips back. He moaned and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, please” he said.

You bit your lip and stood up from the couch, making him look wide-eyed at you, his lips getting pouty and his eyes teary. “Let’s go. I’m giving you your first time on a couch, Lixie” you chuckled at him, offering your hand to him.

He smiled and grabbed it, following you towards your bedroom.

Once you were inside, you pushed Felix on the bed, making him giggle cutely at you.

You stood in between his legs and grabbed his hands, placing them by your waist, right by the hem of your shirt.

“Take it off, baby” you whispered and he visibly shivered.

He grabbed your shirt and slowly pulled it up your frame. You stood there with your bra and shorts, making Felix’s mouth water.

He was having everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him and his hands were getting sweaty at the amount of things he wanted to do but didn’t know how to.

You grabbed his hands again and made him push your shorts down your legs. You kicked them off and straddled Felix’s lap.

With your chest, you pushed him on his back and your hands trailed all over him, as you grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off his skin.

You licked your lips as you saw his naked chest, while Felix eyed you with lust in his eyes. You pressed kisses down his chest, making sure to suck on his nipples and the moans that he was letting out made your panties wet. You trailed your kisses down to his stomach and navel, licking the skin right above the hem of the pants he was wearing.

“Poor baby, got so dressed for a woman not worth his time” you cooed, while pressing your hand on his crotch.

He bit his lip and whimpered.

“She wanted to fuck you and look at you, whimpering under me” you said, and grabbed the hem of his pants, along with his boxers, and pulled them down, his erection slapping against his stomach. You bit your lip and grabbed his shaft, making him moan out loud. “Maybe we should send her a picture or a video, don’t you think?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Felix sat up on his elbows and you started moving your hand up and down over him, your wrist twisting a little at the base.

“A video of me with your dick in my mouth, wouldn’t that be fun?” you asked and licked a stripe from his base to the tip. He threw his head back, his chest heaving as he tried to control himself while you sucked on his dick, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

When you did a certain move with your mouth, Felix grabbed your hair, wrenching your mouth away from him.

“I’m- I was close, I’m sorry” he apologized, out of breath.

You giggled and placed your hands behind your back, unclipping your bra and throwing it over your shoulder.

Felix’s eyes widened as he took you in and his hands grabbed your waist, placing you down on the bed once he felt a leap of courage.

He didn’t even wait for you to stop bouncing and enveloped one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned, arching your back against his mouth as you grabbed his hair.

“Lix…” you whimpered, your legs going around him.

He took his mouth away from your chest and grabbed the hem of your panties, searching approval in your eyes.

With a smile, you nodded and he slowly pulled them down your long legs. He threw them away and his fingers shakily found your heated and wet core. “Fuck, you’re so wet, love” he whispered.

“Yeah, who’s fault is that?” you asked with sarcasm, making him laugh a little. He dropped a kiss on your mouth.

He found your clit and rubbed it a little with his fingers. You bit your lip and grabbed his face, making him look at you.

“Lix, I love what you’re doing but I need you to fuck me like- right now” you said out of breath.

He let out a shaky breath and nodded, dropping a kiss on your lips.

“Just- just guide me through it, okay?” he asked you.

You nodded and gave him a kiss. “Yeah, of course, my love”

Felix’s heart fluttered at the name and positioned himself right above you, the head of his shaft brushing over your hole.

He let out a moan and grabbed the base of his dick, pushing it inside of you. You moaned when he was buried to the hilt, making your nails dig into his back.

“Shit, Felix, you’re so big, baby” you moaned hotly against his ear.

He stayed still, trying to breath through his nose and regain his senses. He could barely think and he knew that if he didn’t start doing so, he’d embarrass himself. And he really didn’t want to in front of the love of his life.

You shifted underneath him and his hands came to stop you by the waist.

“W-wait…”

“What?” you asked him out of breath.

“Stop moving, I- I want this to last” he said and you chuckled a little.

You waited for him to regain his composure and then he lifted his head, looking at you. His eyes were shining and he smiled at you, pressing a long kiss to your lips.

“Thank you…”

“For what?” you asked, confused.

“For letting me do this” he said, and you could feel how he was holding back. “I know you don’t feel like that like I do for you but-”

“Felix…” you cut him off. Your heart almost broke at seeing his face and for making him think that you didn't like him like that. “Felix, I’m in love with you, babe”

His eyes widened and watered a little. “Really?” he asked, like a little child.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah”

He kissed the breath out of you and you wrapped your arms around him. “I love you” he muttered against your mouth.

“Okay, I love you but please move” you moaned.

He nodded against your mouth and started moving slowly. His hands were gripping the sheets as he moved in and out of you.

You did a certain movement in which you tightened around him and he moaned brokenly. “Fuck, do that again” he whispered.

You grabbed his hair and pulled him down, covering his mouth with a fiery kiss while you tightened around his length. You pulled your leg closer to your chest, opening yourself more for him, making him hit your spot. You moaned and threw your head back on the pillow.

“Fuck, right there” you whimpered and he moved his hips harder against the spot.

Felix closed his eyes with a pant and pressed his forehead against your chest. “Shit, shit, Y/N, I’m gonna come”

You quickly rubbed your clit so you could come with him, and you tightened around him when you felt the wave crash over you.

With a moan, you came around him while he continued hitting your sweet spot.

“I’m coming” he moaned against your mouth before wrapping his lips around yours in a kiss. With uneven thrusts, he spilled his load inside of you, filling you completely and then collapsed on top of your body, completely spent.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, inviting his weight with a smile.

“You okay?” you whispered out of breath.

“Fuck… is it… is it always like that?” he asked, in the same state as you.

You chuckled. “No, it isn’t, actually. But it’ll be like that with us” you whispered in his ear.

You felt him smiling against your skin and he pressed a kiss on it.

── .✦

You woke up the next day wrapped in your favorite blonde’s arms with a smile. You stood up from the bed, not before leaving a kiss on his forehead and making sure he was well covered by the sheets. The shirt you had thrown off of him looked tempting on the floor so you threw it on your body as you walked down to the kitchen.

You had decided that there wasn’t a better way to wake up to the new future ahead of the two of you with breakfast in bed.

Once you started whipping the eggs and cutting down the fruit, you started thinking about different fake scenarios of you and Felix, smiling about the possibility of them becoming true.

Your fantasies were cut short when a knock on the door startled you.

You frowned, really not expecting anyone.

Forgetting to check the peephole, you grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

The girl that rejected Felix was standing in front of you. Her eyes widened and looked at you up and down, clearly recognizing the shirt that he had been wearing the night before on your body and catching the hickeys on your neck.

“Um, hi” she said, shifting on her feet.

“Hey… you are?” you asked, pretending you didn’t know who she was.

“I- I think I got the wrong number. I’m looking for Felix” she chuckled nervously.

“Oh, the guy you rejected yesterday?” you asked her, getting angry at the nerve the girl had. “Yeah, he’s sleeping in my bed. Tired him out last night” you chuckled.

“O-oh” she stammered dumbly. “I- can I talk to him?” she asked.

“Mmm, I doubt it. He’s really tired” you said. “But I’ll tell him you stopped by”

Without waiting for her response, you shut the door in her face and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the tray you had prepared for him.

You walked back to your room and saw Felix sitting on the bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, baby” he smiled as he saw you. “I heard someone at the door, who was it?”

“No one, hon” you replied. “I brought you breakfast”

He smiled even wider and kissed your cheek once you sat down next to him, wrapping his arms around you. “I love you… so much” he whispered on your neck, kissing the skin there.

You wrapped your arms around him as well and basked in his warmth. “I love you…”

............

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle

i apologize if i can't tag u :(

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz imagines #felix x reader #felix x female reader #felix smut #felix imagine #lee felix x reader #skz smut #stray kids #lee felix #felix lee

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edenesth · 3 months ago

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[3:00 PM]

"Appa, I want to eat!" called the small voice of Choi Bada from the tiny playpen you and San had built for her a few years ago.

"Aww, is my baby hungry? Don't worry, appa's coming!" you heard your husband say as he gently placed Byeol, the family cat, back in her spot before hurrying over to his precious little princess.

You could only sigh, clutching the worn-out plush that once belonged to him, as another wave of pain hit you relentlessly. So much for hoping to spend the day in his loving arms. "It's just you and me now, Shiber. I'm no longer at the top of his priority list."

The man snorted as he scooped up your daughter, carrying her over to the dining table where the lunch he had made earlier still sat untouched, thanks to your late breakfast, and removed the covers. "You do know I can hear you, right?"

You rolled your eyes. "Good, I wanted you to hear," you shot back, grimacing as another vicious cramp attacked your lower abdomen.

He smirked, busy reheating the food, and planted a kiss on the child's head. "You know damn well you'll always be my number one. Besides, I've already pitched a solution, and the offer still stands. If you'd just agree, we could get to work and, you know, banish that pain."

Resisting the urge to launch Shiber at him, you slapped a hand over your forehead. "Please, never mention that 'solution' again. I have never heard anything dumber in my life."

"Oh, come on! It would stop your period for nine months, and Bada would finally get a baby brother," he said, turning to your daughter. "You want a baby brother, don't you?"

Your daughter clapped her hands, grinning from her high chair. "Yes, yes, eomma! Bada wants baby brother!"

Smiling at your little mini-me, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked over, leaning down to kiss her chubby cheeks. "We'll think about it, sweetie. But first, let's eat." You swiped the plate from San's hands, placed it in front of her, and watched as she dug in with her new utensils like the little champ she was.

Feeling your husband's hands snake around your waist from behind, you spun around and whispered with a pointed finger, "Stop filling her head with ideas! Do you seriously think pregnancy is the answer to menstrual cramps? Have you conveniently forgotten about contraction pain, my guy?"

He pouted, tightening his hold around you, pressing his forehead against yours, and whispered, "But my love, doesn't the pleasure always make the pain go away?"

Flustered, your face burned as you quickly shushed him, nodding towards your daughter, who was staring up at you both in wonder. His suggestive expression softened as he grinned down at her. "Is it good, Bada-yah?" She nodded cutely. "Good, then finish it."

Once her attention returned to her food and Baby Shark playing on the TV, San cupped your cheek and met your gaze. "All jokes aside, didn't we agree to have at least two kids? Bada's turning four soon, so maybe now would be a good time to try for another. Don't you think?" he murmured, his presence and touch intoxicating, his lips brushing against yours as his thumb tenderly caressed your cheek.

You felt your resolve slowly crumbling. He was right—you both had agreed to have at least two children so your daughter wouldn't be too lonely. The thought just hadn't crossed your mind yet. But maybe he was right... maybe now was the time.

"I..." Before you could find the words, a whine escaped your throat as another torturous cramp sent you curling into his chest. He held you close, soothingly running his hands up and down your back. "What do you say, my love?"

You couldn't believe what you were about to say, but you had to. Anything to stop this agony. "We'll put the baby talk on hold, but for now... I need you, Choi San."

"Say no more, baby," he whispered before carrying you into the bedroom, but not without first turning on auto-play on YouTube—Baby Shark would have to handle babysitting for a while.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Everyone, say thank you to @itstheghostofmypast because this timestamp probably would not have come to fruition had it not been for her and the ideas she always gives me❤️

Hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp HAHA and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi san #ateez san #ateez timestamps #choi san x reader #choi san x you #san x reader #san x you #ateez drabbles #san drabble #san fluff #ateez fic #ateez imagines

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months ago

Note

Reader just straight up not comprehending that Sevika is scary? Like when people talk about how intimidating Sevika is and Reader is just like “Uhm, what do you mean?? That’s my Sevi-bear?? She’s precious.” Pffft

-🥨

I LOVE THIS

men and minors dni

out of all the people in silco's little gang, you never understood why people thought sevika was scariest.

silco is scary. the man never raises his voice, doesn't bat an eye when he orders someone's death, and seemingly feels no remorse about anything... ever. he could blow over in a strong wind, but somehow, through sliminess alone, he's come to rule the entire undercity. that's scary.

lock is scary. just the pure physical size of him is intimidating enough, but add onto that the scars, prison tattoos, and the added strength of shimmer-- the man looks more like a killing machine than a human sometimes.

ran freaks you the fuck out-- they're quiet as fuck on their feet, and they've never missed a target-- sometimes, you think you see them in the shadows of your apartment at night.

but sevika?! sevika's not scary.

sevika's a fucking grandpa.

sevika's happiest when she's gambling with her boys, a cigarette in her mouth, you in her lap.

sevika loves to read but always falls asleep a chapter or two in, snoring as her book falls closed in her hands.

sevika can't be left alone around a freshly baked sweet treat-- or she'll eat the entire thing in one sitting.

sevika's not scary.

"you're married to sevika!?" a goon asks one evening while you wait for her to wrap up her work.

you blink at the man in front of you, trying to place him. he must be a new hire. "why is that surprising to you?" you ask.

"you seem so normal, and sevika's scary!" he squawks. you huff and roll your eyes.

"have you ever tried to get to know her? or do you just let the eyeliner and mech arm scare you off?" you ask. the man ties to speak, but a flash of anger sparks up in you. "you know, i bet you wouldn't be saying this if sevika was a man. why is sevika scary? 'cause she's a woman with power-- that's why." you're ranting now, defensive of your wife and getting worked up.

"no, that's not--"

"baby!" sevika's sweet voice calls. your little argument is completely forgotten as you turn around to greet your wife with a dreamy sigh.

"sevi-bear." you coo, pulling sevika in for a hug. she nuzzles against your throat, humming happily as you comb your fingers through her hair. "let's get outta here baby. made some brownies for you-- they're cooling off at home."

"fuck. i love you so much."

the pair of you leave the bar, tangled in each other's arms, none the wiser to the flabbergasted goon you left behind.

(sevika had threatened to tie a noose around his balls and let him dangle from the rafters earlier today when he'd joked about cheating at a game of cards.)

(now he's questioning his sanity, because the same woman who made him shit his pants in fear at lunchtime is giggling and covering her very defensive, slightly delusional wife in smooches as you two leave the bar hand in hand.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #i love the idea that sevika will be as sappy as she pleases with you in front of whoever she wants.#because what are they gonna say? they're all so fucking scared of her lmaooo #and they're all too shocked by her lovey-dovey side to even find words to say anything in the first place aldfj;lskjd #🥨 anon

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stsgooo · 1 year ago

Text

Subconscious Reassurance.

✩࿐ summary: even the strongest has dreams he longs to be reality.

warning(s): slight 236 spoilers, shibuya incident spoilers, mentioned death, poor coping mechanisms, lovesick!gojo, girldad!gojo, as usual not proofread (it’s 2 am give me a break). wc; 3.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x reader

a/n: keep seeing tiktoks about the lamp story and this came to me. it’s a shortie but i just wanted to get this out. also do we prefer the colorless manga panels or the ones like the above one? i was messing with filters on picsart so lmk :)

divider 1 | previous work | ao3

SATORU ARRIVED HOME EXACTLY 7 PM.

He knew it was true because that’s the time he always arrived. There was no need to glance at the clock or question anyone around him. He knew it was 7PM.

The sun was peeking through the curtains and basking your shared home in a golden hue. Warmth enveloped his very being as he closed the front door behind him. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t being touched by the sun, that wasn’t feeling the same feelings he did.

The sky outside was illuminated in a mixture of purples, reds, oranges, and pinks. A palate that could be implemented into his very soul and he’d smile in return.

“Daddy!”

The call was familiar and came exactly one minute after Satoru walked through the door.

Again, he didn’t need to glance, he just knew.

A smile blossomed on his lips and he crouched down to catch the little girl that jumped into his arms with a loud squeal. Her nose pressed into her cheek as she happily rambled about how much she missed him. A norm and a routine that he greeted happily with his own reassurances that he missed her infinitely more.

"Daddy," she whined, her tiny chubby fingers reaching up for his blindfold. "Can't see your eyes, daddy."

This happened every night after he arrived home. She would always frown and trace her nails over where his eyes would definitely be. Most of the time it was uncomfortable and, frankly, a little scary, but he always welcomed it with an overly dramatic gasp.

"Oh, sorry, daddy forgot!" He hooked his finger under the fabric and pulled it down to rest against his neck. Her eyes (which were his) met his and brightened considerably. "Is that better, Rie?"

Rie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Despite the aching behind his right eye, Satoru kept the blindfold off for Rie’s sake. She had always expressed her upmost displeasure for the item since she was a baby. Crying and crying until he finally pulled it off. It’d been a rough first few years trying to get used to pulling the thing off whenever he got home. But he’d grown accustomed to it.

“What’s mama up to?” Satoru asked softly, tracing his finger briefly over the bridge of Rie’s nose as she giggled.

The little girl swayed slightly in his arms. “Mama’s been working in the eating room—“ dining room, Satoru softly corrected with a smile, “—she put on on Yuki for me to watch while she worked.”

“Yuki, huh? Lucky you!” He playfully pinched her cheek which resulted in her swatting his hand with a resounding “daddy!” in protest. Satoru adjusted her on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Should we go bother mommy?”

Like usual, Rie enthusiastically nodded in response.

Poor you.

True to his routine, he made his way from the front door towards the dining room, loudly. He left no room for you to not hear him coming him and gave you ample opportunity to prepare for his and Rie’s interruption on your precious work (he swore you were almost as bad as Nanam— …. as… as…).

The smile on his lips didn’t falter as his mind trailed away from the forgotten name. What was forgotten obviously wasn’t entirely important. He enthusiastically turned the corner, arm thrown out as Rie squealed happily as his rather jerky movements.

You were as you always were. Responsible. In your usual space occupying your rightful position.

Despite the loud (dramatic) entrance he made, you did not react in anyway. Your eyes were glued to your screen as you furiously typed away a response to whoever got on your bad side today. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. In fact, this should’ve been around the time Gakuganji of Ya— someone of higher standing emailed you something that didn’t sit right with you. Even the appearance of your amazing and rambunctious husband didn’t seem to deter you from your mission.

Satoru pouted, huffing as he peacefully placed Rie down (the girl now more interested in the TV returning to her show), and crept closer to you. Still, you did not look away.

He leaned over, his chin hooked over his shoulder as he peeked over the words you were putting out into the world. Oddly, he couldn’t read any of the screen. He tried squinting your eyes and blinking a few times— nothing. It was more reminiscent of gibberish than any Japanese he knew. None of it seemed to stay in one place and it all smashed together to create a blob.

You knew how to read and write, he knew that much. Was it something with his eyes? He doubted it. But something wasn’t—

The laptop clicked close.

“You’ve never been one to take a hint, Satoru,” you turned your head to place a soft kiss against his temple in greeting. He could feel your tiny smile against his skin. The warmth of your lips. The coolness of your silvia left behind. His chest ached. He missed— missed? “Although, I knew that before I married you.”

He pushed away the mud in his mind and turned his head, placing a peck against your lips. Strawberries. You always had remnants of strawberries on your lips. Rie’s favorite fruit.

“I think it’s one of my many charming qualities.” He hummed.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a chaste kiss against his lips once again. “Charming is pushing it.” You patted his cheek. “It’s definitely an interesting characteristic.”

Satoru pouted. “You make it sound so unappealing.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

He snorted in response, standing to his full height and peeking at you from over his nose. “You know, you’re not innocent either. Thought you said the TV would rot her brain, now you’re putting it on to keep her distracted?” He spared a glance to where Rie was hanging off the couch, upside down, her eyes glued to the television.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Because she’s your daughter and has the self restraint of a puppy. I needed a hour to get some things done.” You pat the top of your laptop. “Sue me.”

Satoru smirked. “I just might for emotional damages.” He gestured towards the laptop with a vague hand. “What exactly had you typing up a storm?”

There was a brief wave of giddiness in his chest when he saw the look in your eyes darken. Passion. Anger. Protectiveness. There were so many things he loved about you. Adored you for. Made him sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

“Well, I got an email from —— about some work in Shibuya, but I told him I already checked it out and suffered for it. Well, guess what he said? ——— and ———— suffered too so I can’t complain much. Set me off a bit, had to give him a piece of my mind and remind him what happened.”

Satoru wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or he was just too awestruck by your beauty; but he swore that your voice simply stopped whenever you spoke names. As if your voice box couldn’t get it out. But you carried on like it was nothing. Your lips had even formed around the words that so desperately wanted to be out there, but were never uttered. You didn’t look panicked or disturbed. If anything, you looked normal. Just sipping from your capri sun that was definitely forced on you by Rie.

It was like he was the only one not hearing it.

It vaguely concerned him, but he was also Gojo Satoru. Sometimes weird things happened that had no explanation.

“But,” you continued once you swallowed down the fruit punch liquid with a twisted face. “I suppose I can’t really blame anyone for what happened. It was Halloween, we were all caught off guard. Some of us suffered for it more than others.”

Satoru, for the life of him, couldn’t recall what happened on Halloween. But he should. He had that overwhelming feeling that he really, really should.

Either way, he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, my motto is that it’s always easier to forgive and forget.” He snatched the remainder of your capri sun and gave a loud slurp.

You grin, resting your chin on your cupped fingers. “I suppose so.” You eyed him warmly, then nodded to the chair next to you. Always warm. Always welcoming. “Now, what did you get up to today?”

Satoru groaned, flopping onto the seat with a creak. He placed the capri sun down to place his hands against his face. “Two specials grades in Iwate, one grade one in Kagawa, then three nasty things leeching off on the playground on the way home.” He knew he should feel exhausted. He usually did. But that day, this day, he did not. If anything, he felt well rested.

Odd.

You hum softly. “They’re overworking you, Satoru,” your tone is barely there. Your words could be missed if the house had any movement or loud noises. But it was just you and him. The soft background noises of your daughter. Always you and him. “They should recognize that you’re just a man. One day it’ll be too much. One day you’ll snap in half.”

Satoru frowned, finding the sudden shift in tone a little unsettling. “I’m the strongest, no need to worry.” He waved a passive hand in the air between you.

“I’ll always worry. It’s been my job to worry.” Your eyes moved towards Rie almost melancholic. “She’ll worry too, you know. She does worry. More than she should at 10.”

Satoru frowned deeper. “Eh…?” He blinked slowly, eyes sliding to Rie with confusion. 10? Was he crazy? Blind? Since when was the little girl sitting on the couch 10? Last he checked, she was six. It was 2012. Were you losing it on him? Was this your subtle way of telling him you’re spiraling again? “Baby, she is not—“

“I know you worry too. Think you’ve been worried about losing since the moment you got home.”

Losing? He’s never lost. Well, except those few times. But they didn’t count. Those were intentional loses.

Satoru was beginning to feel as though you both were having two different conversations. “Y/N, I’m not following.” He stated softly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have to do tomorrow, Satoru?” You breezed through as if you knew where that was going. A pensive expression on your face now.

Again, he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Tomorrow? I…Well, I’m going to Shinjuku to… to…” To…what…? What was it he had to do? He could feel it deep in his chest. That ache. That unfamiliar emptiness that made him rub over his heart softly. There was something he was missing.

“Tomorrow’s going to be romantic,” You said wistfully, eyes distant as you sighed. “Well, it’s supposed to be.”

December 24th.

December 24th. So I don’t have to remember two different dates.

How romantic.

Satoru felt his gut churn. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t explain it but everything felt so tight now.

“I’m not.. I don’t…?”

Why couldn’t he get words out. Why did he stare at you like that? Unmoving, unblinking? Why did his eyes collect with tears.

Why did you look so sad?

You reached out, taking his hand. It’s cold. It feels cold. Not like the usual warmth that envelopes him whenever you held him. Whenever you reached out from him.

You’re cold.

You take his hand. “Satoru, what’s happening tomorrow?”

Seriously, what is with you?

Satoru clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why but he felt so unnerved. He felt like he’s been disillusioned. As if his world was crumbling. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand.

You’re cold.

You looked briefly disappointed in his response. “You’re not well. You’re trying to appear to be, but you’re not. She worries. She’s so worried. And you know it.” Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Your cold thumb gently stroked against his bone, against the tears that were flowing— why was he crying?

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t feel tired. “I just need a nap.” He didn’t feel tired.

“Oh, Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you uttered it, barely audible. But it was enough to conjure up an earth shattering sob from his chest. A heartbroken tremble under your touch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You’re right here?” Confusion was clear in his tone and his expression as he stared back at you.

You just smiled sadly in response.

He shook his head. “You’re right here.” He prided a finger against your chest. Firm. But cold.

You tilted your head and blinked slowly at him.

Satoru wasn’t sure why, but he took in as deep breath. Like he couldn’t quite catch it in the first place.

“You didn’t— You’re right here!” He desperately clutched onto your hand, pressing your skin against his own. “You’re right here. This-This is real. This-This is you. Please. Please, this is you.”

You only stared sadly in response.

Satoru wasn’t sure what was happening. Why he was so panicked or why he felt so terribly sad— but he knew it was making him quiver and sob. Why? Why? Why did this all have to happen to you? Of all people had you been the one to suffer?

What suffering?

“I…” He felt breathless. Feather light. He felt like he had no control of his lips or his tongue. “Tomorrow I fight… Sukuna…?”

Sukuna? Since when? When did—

“Since before Shibuya. Since before Itadori Yuji.” You answered his thoughts.

Itadori Yuji. Satoru thought that name sounded familiar. A blank face appeared in his mind, the back of a pink hair head facing him. Itadori Yuji.

He felt like he was living someone else’s life. As if he were placed in some point in space where nothing bad could touch it.

But these feelings, these tears, this ache in his chest wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t safe from the darkness of the world.

“Nanami… Yaga… Nobara…” You uttered the names that made his ears ring. That made his muscles tense and his heart sputter to a catastrophic halt. “But still you dream of Suguru…. of me…. of the lives you desperately want to hold on to.”

Suguru… you…

Satoru’s lips quivered.

Suguru… you….

“Why?” You asked the million dollar question.

Breathless whispers against sweat slick skin. Endless touches of tense muscle. Hair hanging and tickling. Eyes sure and hardened with undoubted honesty.

Why? Satoru thought that question was dumb. Why would the earth dream to reach out for the moon and the sun?

He stared at you, big blue eyes glittering with shimmering tears. “I’m the strongest… I should’ve saved the ones I loved… I should’ve… I’m the strongest.”

To be whole. To be loved. To love.

You sigh softly. Sadly. “Satoru, you can’t save everyone.”

“But I could.”

“Obviously not.”

The words were final. Absolute. No doubt. And he supposed, a deep part of him knew, you were right.

But that other part of himself. The one that hated himself for what happened, for whatever happened, convinced him otherwise.

“You don’t—“

“Get it?” You raised an eyebrow at his blink. “I’m your subconscious. I’m your deepest, most personal thoughts. I get it.”

Satoru stared in return. “…huh?”

You pressed your lips together. “Satoru, you’re the strongest. But you don’t always have to be.” You whispered if. A nefarious secret between the both of you that couldn’t be touched. That couldn’t be shared outside of this setting. You scoot closer in your chair. You’re slotted between his legs. “There’ll come a time where you need to step back. To rest. And let those you’ve guided this far to do their jobs.”

Resting. Stepping back.

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. It was never a guarantee nor was it ever a possibility. He feared, even now, he couldn’t even dream about something like that.

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

Years later, Satoru didn’t know what to make of his words. But Suguru had always known him better, he supposed.

Distracted, he didn’t realize you had started to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his head against your shoulder. It was a blissful moment when he came to his senses. When he felt your fingers ghost his scalp. When he felt your lips brush against his temple.

“You should take a nap, you look tired.”

The moment the words left your lips, his eyes felt heavy and he felt exhausted. He hadn’t felt tired before. He would love to sleep. But…

“What about you?” He whispered, eyes unmoving from your face. He studied the bow of your lips. The softness and warmth of your eyes. The faint blush across your cheeks. The little wrinkles on your forehead. “If I close my eyes, you’ll be gone.”

“No,” you shook your head and placed your free hand against his rapidly beating heart. “I’ll be here.”

How cliche. He wanted to say. But he would take it. He’d take and savor any moment with you.

He took in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you.” No hesitation. No doubt. How could this be a dream? Something of his own mind? He nuzzled into your neck with a small sigh. “Take care of her.”

Take care of her.

Satoru woke with a soft gasp.

He was not happy or surprised to find the ceiling of his dark room instead of the dining room.

The clock next to his bed illuminated 2AM in angry red outline. He’d been asleep for approximately 4 hours. And dreamt of you. Again.

His jaw clenched as he tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. You, angelic, in your rightful place typing away. That’s what you should be doing.

Instead, you were one of the first to die in Shibuya.

It’d been you, then Nanami, then Nobara, then whoever else.

She got caught up with Noritoshi in the tunnels, that Death Womb Painting kid tried to explain to Satoru when everyone else had been too distraught and nervous to reveal it themselves. She didn’t suffer.

It didn’t bring him comfort. Satoru was pretty sure it was a lie, but it still brought him no comfort.

It gave him all the more reason to make Kenjaku suffer.

December 24th.

Today was the day.

Almost two months since your death. Christmas Eve.

Satoru was pretty sure he was about to do the same. Embrace death for the sake of others.

He could look around, tell all of them that he’d win, but there was that growing inkling that this was mounting up against him. That Sukuna— Megumi— knew exactly what to do to get one up on him. He feared the unknown. The possibility this was it.

What would you say?

“Dad?”

Satoru’s eyes dragged from the ceiling and to the spot next to him.

Now 10, Rie was older and less rambunctious. But he blamed that partly on your death and his sudden sealing.

She had clung to him since he returned. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him, begged him to never go again— she thought she’d lost him just like mama. (It’d been six years since he heard her call you mama.) And she slept in his bed. Said she couldn’t sleep otherwise. She’d curl up against him and he’d run his hands through her hair as he hummed a long forgotten lullaby to guide her to sleep.

Shoko said she needed this. Him.

Satoru knew she needed you.

“Rie, did I wake you?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” surprisingly, it sounded like the truth. “I’ve been up.”

He frowned, “Why?”

There was a prolonged pause between them. A thick layer of hesitation passed and Satoru tensed up. What could she possibly be up for?

When he heard the small sniffle, his heart ached.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed kisses against her head. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to die!” Rie sobbed immediately. “I don’t want you to fight stupid Sukuna! I just want you to stay here with me— I can’t lose you too!”

I can’t lose you too.

Satoru pressed his lips together as tears sprung to his eyes. “Rie, I’m not going to die.” Such sure words for a man who was worried over his own mortality only moments ago. Who had to be reassured by his subconscious image of his dead wife that it’s okay to lose.

Rie shook her head frantically. “No! I heard Kusakabe say you will!” She sobbed, clutching onto his night shirt with a vice like hold.

Satoru silently cursed the man as he rubbed Rie’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? What does Kusakabe know anyway, the schmuck?” His poor attempt at joking fell flat, Rie only continued to cry. With a heavy sigh, Satoru pulled back, holding her face in his hands. “What do I always say, hm? I’m the strongest. I’ll get one up on him.”

Rie stared up at him and Satoru was painfully aware of how young she was. “You promise?” She uttered.

Satoru hesitated.

If he were to promise and it didn’t actually work out, who was he? Would she resent him for the rest of her life? Would she try to forget him and spit on his memory? He’d been promised many things in life by people he looked up to and every single one had been broken. Resentment festered. Trust was broken.

What kind of father was he if he—

Take care of her. She worries.

Satoru tucked some of her hair— your hair— behind her ear. “I promise.” He whispered, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

Rie clutched onto him once again. “I love you.”

No hesitation.

“I love you too.”

The worries of Sukuna and Kenjaku could wait until morning. Satoru had to focus on her now.

Take care of her.

#✩࿐ t writes #♡ oneshot #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru angst #yeahhhh #another one where reader is dead #can’t help myself sorry.

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geekgirl-1717 · 5 months ago

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Cuddling with... One Piece Characters!

Part 2 (Franky, Nami, Robin, Ace, Sabo, Shanks)

TW: Non-sexual nudity for Robin's part and slightly suggestive jokes for Shanks' part, but otherwise SFW. Gender-neutral reader, no use of (y/n)

I kinda got carried away so some of this is just how they express affection in general ? But also there's cuddling too lol

How (more) One Piece characters would cuddle with you!

Franky: At the beginning of your relationship, he’s a little hesitant to cuddle with you. He’s much larger than you, not to mention that most of him is made of metal, which makes him worry. What if he accidentally hurts you? Is his body too hard or cold to cuddle you “properly?” But with enough reassurance, you’ll turn Franky into a cuddle machine! Due to his sheer size, he usually ends up spooning you or holding you in some way, like against his chest, but he will never turn down a chance to be the little spoon. This man is absolutely shameless in everything he does so he has no qualms about cuddling in front of others either.

Sleep was a precious luxury when sailing the seas. Getting a proper rest each night was never guaranteed, as any number of threats could have you springing out of bed and into the heat of battle at a moment’s notice.

It was a perfectly calm night. No freak weather incidents, no resonate booms of cannonfire, no stomps or shouts from your lively crew. Even better, you were curled up in the embrace of your boyfriend. You laid against his sturdy chest, his massive hands engulfing nearly your entire body.

Which only made it all the more frustrating when you couldn’t fall asleep.

You suppressed the urge to let out a groan, instead directing your gaze up towards Franky. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was somewhat shallow, leading you to believe he may not have been asleep either. You decided to take your chances.

“Hey Franky, are you awake?”

You whispered softly, absentmindedly tracing your finger across his collarbone.

His eyes didn’t open, but a large thumb started stroking up and down your back.

“Yeah. Can’t sleep either, baby?”

You let out a hum in affirmation. Franky slowly opened his eyes, flashing you a sleepy grin, one that you happily returned.

You both remained like that for a while, basking in the silence and each other’s love-stricken gazes. Finally, you spoke up.

“Can we switch? Wanna hold you.”

Franky chuckled, jostling you slightly from your position on top of him.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

He gently slid you off his chest, shifting so that he was laying on his side. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smushing your face into his broad back.

You never minded that your boyfriend was a cyborg, but you secretly loved moments like this. His back was so warm and soft compared to the rest of his metal body, and you couldn’t help but snuggle deeper into him.

Franky was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Franky was someone that radiated confidence from his very being, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t ever worry about how you perceived his unusual body. Feeling your warm breath fanning across his spine, your hair tickling his skin, the sensation of you pressing into the more sensitive flesh of his back, made him feel truly human again.

A large, imposing, audacious cyborg being spooned by his lover, whose arms could barely reach around the length of his body, would be a ridiculous sight for anyone else to behold. But the two of you were in absolute bliss, your prior sleeplessness forgotten as you both drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Nami: She loves to cuddle with the both of you facing each other, especially when you’re sleeping together. There’s been too many times in her life where she’s woken up alone, away from anything that’s ever felt familiar to her. Now, you’re the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes, reminding her that everything's real, that she’s safe now. She also likes any cuddling position where you’re holding her, whether she’s sitting in your lap, being the little spoon, or laying against your chest. She views cuddling as something more intimate and vulnerable, so she prefers to have it happen in private.

Sunlight slowly began to filter through the little porthole, scattering sunbeams across the room.

Nami was roused from her sleep as the offendingly bright light hit her eyes. She frowned in discomfort initially, wishing she could have gotten a few more precious hours of sleep. But as her vision adjusted and she took in the sight before her, her heart softened.

You, still slumbering peacefully. Your hair was a little mussed from sleep, your mouth hung open slightly as you breathed deeply, and your sleepwear was ruffled and wrinkled. But to Nami, you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on, more precious than any treasure she could dream of.

Your arms were wrapped around Nami’s waist, but she pulled back slightly from your grasp so she could get a better view of you. Unable to help herself, she reached out to brush her hand softly across your cheek, almost as if to affirm she wasn’t still dreaming.

The action stirred you from your sleep, but just you smiled and leaned into Nami’s touch.

“Good morning, love.”

Your voice was a bit raspy, but it was music to Nami’s ears.

“Good morning to you, too. Sorry for waking you.”

You shook your head, your eyes finally fluttering open.

“It’s okay.”

You pulled Nami closer to you, placing a kiss on her temple and resting your chin on the top of her head. She eagerly snuggled into your embrace, her arms coming to circle around your waist as well.

“Wanna just go back to sleep?”

You asked softly.

You weren’t quite ready to leave the warm comfort of your and Nami’s shared bed. Luckily, Nami seemed to feel the same way. She merely nodded in response, already drifting back to sleep.

This little routine of yours has become so normal, so mundane, and yet Nami cherishes every morning she wakes up next to you like it’s the first. To hold and be held by you reminds her that she’s finally escaped the horrors of her past, that she’s living out the dreams she’s had since she was a young child, and that she gets to do it all with you. And that’s worth more than anything money could buy.

Robin: Hold this woman. Please. You would think her Devil Fruit powers would make her the perfect big spoon, and of course if you want to be held by her, she would be more than happy to indulge you. But please make sure you hold her, too. She’s desperately craving the comfort and intimacy. However, it’s difficult for her to vocalize her needs and as such, you’ll have to initiate the majority of cuddling. A very common way you cuddle is Robin sitting in your lap leaning back into your chest while she reads, making sure to turn the pages slowly so you can read over her shoulder. Another private cuddler for the most part, but wouldn’t mind small displays of affection like leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“Darling, I’m going to take a bath. Would you like to join?”

Robin peeked her head into the room where you had been laying in your bed. You had been on the verge of taking a nap, but practically jumped at the opportunity to spend time with your girlfriend.

“Sure! Let me just grab a few things.”

You grabbed a change of clothes and some toiletries before taking Robin’s hand and letting her lead you across the ship.

When you and Robin first started dating, intimacy and vulnerability was something she struggled with. She had learned to live without much affection from a very young age, so she wasn’t used to giving or receiving it.

But you were patient and understanding, giving Robin all the time that she needed. Now, you both treasured the small moments of closeness you were able to carve out amidst your tumultuous lives as pirates.

Bathing together had quickly become one of your favorite ways to spend time with each other. Even when you two would try to read together in the aquarium bar or share a cup of tea on the deck, it was never a guarantee your peaceful moments wouldn’t be disturbed by one of your crewmates, and Robin was not one to indulge in PDA. Aside from sleeping together at night, taking a bath was the only way the two of you could cuddle without interruption.

After rinsing yourselves under the showerheads first and drawing a warm bath for yourselves, you settled into the water first, leaning back against the rim of the tub. Robin climbed in shortly after, resting her back against your chest. She let out a deep sigh, the tension practically melting off of her shoulders.

Although to anyone else it seemed that Robin was always calm and composed, as her lover you knew that she often kept her guard up, not allowing herself to be fully vulnerable. But alone with you, she was granted a rare moment to truly relax.

Wordlessly, you went about your usual routine, reaching for bottles of shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap. You laughed softly to yourself when you recalled the first time you asked Robin to do this with you.

“Take a bath… together? My, you’re being rather bold today, aren’t you?”

She had teased, making your face heat up as you realized the implications of your words.

“N-no, nothing like that! I mean, not that I don’t want that- but I just thought, maybe uh- you’d want someone to help wash your back?”

You fumbled for any excuse you could think of. Truly, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. Neither of you brought up the fact that Robin could easily wash her own back with the help of her Devil Fruit ability, and to this day that fact remained unacknowledged.

You started with Robin’s hair, gently massaging shampoo into her scalp and brushing conditioner through the ends of her long, dark tresses. Then, you moved to wash her back, though you eventually devolved to just massaging the tense muscles. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses on her bare shoulders and neck from time to time, and Robin’s heart fluttered with each gentle press of your lips to her skin.

Even as the water grew tepid and your skin began to prune, you both remained in the bath. Your arms had found their way around Robin’s waist, her hands coming to settle on top of your own.

“Love you.”

You mumbled into her skin, finally breaking the peaceful silence. Robin turned her head to rest her face in the crook of your neck.

“Love you more, darling. Thank you.”

Ace: Not unlike his younger brother, Ace loves cuddling and physical affection. If you say you want to cuddle, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and have you in his arms in a heartbeat. The rest of the Whitebeard pirates tease him for the way you have the infamous “Fire-Fist” wrapped around your finger, but neither of you are bothered by their words. He likes to have you resting against his side or chest, but also loves laying his head in your lap. Run your fingers through his hair and he’s a goner. When he falls into one of his sudden sleeping fits, you’re always there to lay him against your shoulder or across your lap.

The Moby Dick was as lively as ever, with alcohol flowing endlessly and the sound of drunken laughter and sea shanties filling the night air.

As much as you loved indulging in the festivities, it could get a bit overwhelming at times.

You had snuck away from the party a few minutes ago, making your way to the ship’s stern. You could still hear the ruckus of your crewmates, but it was much more muted now. You were sitting with your back against the ship’s railing, letting the sound of crashing waves soothe your senses. At first, the cool breeze felt refreshing on your flushed cheeks, as you were still a bit drunk yourself, but soon you felt a shiver wrack your spine.

“Hey sweetheart, you alright?”

Perfect timing.

You opened your eyes with a smile, instantly recognizing Ace’s voice.

“Mhm, I’m good. Just need a little breather.”

Ace made his way over to you, plopping down beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder. You instinctively snuggled into him, resting your head against his chest. Despite his lack of shirt and the chill of the evening air, Ace’s skin was almost hot to the touch. Thanks to his Devil Fruit, your boyfriend often acted as your personal space heater, a role he was happy to take on.

You let out a contented sigh as you warmed up in Ace’s embrace. He let out a chuckle and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Comfortable?”

He teased. You looked up at him, your smile never having left your face.

“Very. You’re really hot, you know?”

You said with a wink. Ace laughed out loud this time. He tried to put on a suave smirk, but you could see a hint of blush across his freckled cheeks.

“Oh, I know sweetheart.”

You both giggled at this, grinning at each other like two idiots in love. You eventually settled into a comfortable silence, Ace’s arm never leaving your shoulder. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you eventually felt Ace rest his head on top of yours.

The music and laughter continued in the background, and as much as you delighted in Ace’s presence, you didn’t want to keep him from the fun.

“Ace, honey, you can go back to the party if you want. I’ll come join you guys again soon.”

First, there was only silence. Then, Ace let out a snore above you.

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself again. Of course, he has fallen asleep. Whether it was due to his narcolepsy or the exhaustion of drinking and partying, you weren’t sure. But you always cherished the moments when Ace would fall asleep on you.

Gently, you shifted Ace so that his head was now in your lap. You removed his hat and placed it on his chest so you could run your fingers through his dark locks.

From this position, you had a perfect view to admire Ace’s features. The way his bangs fell on his forehead, the constellation of freckles across his cheeks, the soft smile he wore even while he was sleeping.

Your back would surely start to ache from sitting against the railing, and your legs would probably end up falling asleep from Ace’s weight on them, but seeing Ace so at peace in your embrace made it all worth it.

Sabo: The ASL brothers just love to cuddle, what can I say? This man would hold you like a giant stuffed animal and refuse to let you go until he says so. The chaotic and uncertain life of a revolutionary means time to cuddle is exceedingly rare, so any opportunity you two can get is savored. Ultimately, Sabo’s not picky on how you guys cuddle, but he would favor arrangements that let him put his face in your hair. He finds your scent so comforting, especially after a difficult day.

Your eyes slowly cracked open as you awoke from your slumber. The room was silent and the sun hadn’t even begun to peak over the horizon yet, but your body knew instinctively it was time to wake up.

The life of a revolutionary was exhausting in many ways, but the hope of creating a better, more just world was enough to pull you out of bed each day to endure whatever grueling training or expedition was planned.

That, and knowing that every new sunrise meant another day of waking up with the love of your life. It was a precious gift, especially given the dangerous nature of a revolutionary's life. You loved Sabo, and he loved you, but it was only under the gentle spell of sleep, away from the terrors and turmoils of war, that you two could fully bask in each other’s comfort.

The object of your affections was currently still fast asleep, his arms draped loosely around your waist with his face pressed into your hair, lulled into slumber by your familiar scent. You wiggled in his grasp, turning so the two of you were face to face.

You always loved waking up before Sabo so you could steal a few brief moments to admire him. The only time you saw the young Chief of Staff truly at peace was asleep in the safety and comfort of your shared bed. You could never resist reaching a hand out to gently trace along his scar, a sight you found both saddening and beautiful at the same time.

You spared one last glance at your boyfriend before you rolled over again, shifting towards the side of the bed so you could get up and start preparing for the day.

You had barely moved an inch before the grip around your waist tightened, a strong pair of arms yanking you backwards. Sabo’s hold on you remained firm as he slung a leg over yours and buried his head into your shoulder, his whole body almost enveloping yours.

You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You gave a half-hearted wiggle, pretending like you were trying to escape Sabo’s grasp when really you wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep in his embrace.

“Sabo, love, we have to get up.”

Sabo only shook his head in response, his blonde hair tickling your bare skin. He wound his arms around you even tighter, almost squeezing the breath out of your lungs. Sabo snuggled into you like a child clinging to their beloved teddy bear.

“Jus’ a few more minutes.”

He mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

And who were you to deny him?

Shanks: Believe it or not, he’s actually a little hesitant to cuddle or hold you at the beginning of your relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be close to you, but age-old insecurities about his arm arise when you first get together. However, with lots of communication, reassurance, and love, you’ll turn Shanks into a cuddle fiend. He likes having you in his lap or resting against his chest. We know this man is shameless, so get ready for a lot of PDA. Shanks likes drinking, and he likes having you sit in his lap, so having you sit in his lap while drinking? Perfect! You’re in a public tavern with tons of people around? No worries!

“Shanks, honey, you gotta help me out here.”

Your voice was exasperated and strained as you struggled to keep both yourself and your intoxicated husband upright. Said husband was seemingly unaware of your plight, swaying to and fro with each clumsy step, leaning his full weight into where his arm was slung around your shoulder.

You nearly toppled over as Shanks leaned in to press a sloppy kiss against your cheek, laughing jovially as he did.

“I love you too, honey!”

You couldn’t help but smile along with him, your heart fluttering at such a genuine display of affection in spite of your previous annoyance.

After a somewhat perilous trek, you finally made it back to the Red Force with you and your husband thankfully unscathed. You gently guided Shanks to sit on your shared bed in the captain’s quarters, taking a moment to catch your breath. By this point, your clothes and hair had become disheveled and you could feel a thin layer of sweat accumulating from the effort it took to haul Shanks back to the ship. This, however, did nothing to deter your husband, who was currently gazing at you with such raw devotion and tenderness in his eyes that it made you falter.

You blushed and shyly turned your head away from Shanks, which only made him chuckle again. Despite having been married for years, he had the ability to feel like you were falling in love with him all over again.

You sifted through the dresser near the bed, pulling out a set of sleepwear for the both of you. As you approached Shanks, the heavy smell of alcohol lingered in the air, making you scrunch your nose up. He really needed a shower, and so did you to be honest, but you shuddered at the thought of washing him in this state. You had barely made it to the ship in one piece, but trying to keep Shanks upright on a wet, slippery floor sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

I’ll just wash the sheets tomorrow.

You conceded, moving to discard your current outfit in favor of more comfortable pajamas. You turned your head back to see Shanks gaping at you. He looked almost sheepish, as though he were witnessing something he shouldn’t be despite having seen you in various states of undress more times than he could count, and now it was your turn to giggle at his flustered state.

Once you had finished changing, you moved on to your husband, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He complied easily, his abashed expression quickly being replaced by a smug grin.

“Oh? Just can’t keep your hands off me can you, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tugged a nightshirt over Shanks’ head. Ignoring his suggestive smirk and wiggling eyebrows, you moved on to tugging off his shoes and pants. Shanks gave a teasing, low whistle in response.

“Wow, gettin’ right to business, are we? Not sure why you put my shirt back on, but I guess we can make it work-“

He was cut off by you flinging his pajama pants at his face. You could hear his muffled chuckles through the fabric.

“Put your pants on, pervert. We’re going to bed.”

“Again, not sure why I need my pants then-“

“To sleep, Shanks. We’re going to sleep.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you settled into bed. Even in his tipsy state, Shanks’ arm instinctively reached out to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest where you belonged. For all his eagerness earlier, Shanks seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, but not before murmuring sweetly in your ear.

“G’night baby, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #franky x reader #nami x reader #robin x reader #ace x reader #sabo x reader #shanks x reader #one piece x you #one piece x reader #this has been sitting in my drafts for so long oopsies

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thisblogisaboutabook · 5 months ago

Text

Baby Mine - Part 2

I Don’t Dance

Azriel x Step-Daughter/Daughter, Azriel x Reader (his mate) - fluff and parenting - family dynamics

This can be read as a stand-alone if you imagine a situation where Azriel and Rhys are in a healthy co-parenting relationship. Rhysand is the biological father but Azriel is mated to the mother and, with her, raises their daughter as his own. I highly suggest reading Baby, Mine for their story though.

Baby, Mine - Part 1

I'll never settle down, that’s what I always thought

Black hair, hazel eyes, a smile that turned his heart to mush. Entering the room, her little hand gripped her mothers. Her eyes shone brightly, taking in the splendor of the grand room. Sure, she’d been in the House of Wind countless times but Starfall was always spectacular.

His daughter. Not by blood, but by heart and soul. Six years old and the most precious thing he’d ever beheld. Equally tied with the babe nestled in his arms at the moment, little wings tucked in tightly as he snoozed.

They’d thought this one would be a girl. Six-year old Azure (Azzie, for short) was certain that she would have a little sister but was completely enamored with her little brother from the first moment she lay her eyes on him. She’d almost forgotten about her wish to have a little sister, that is until the slight swell of her mother’s stomach recently appeared and she found she was going to have another little sibling to dote on.

Gods, Azriel was a lucky male. His mate, his children, the love and joy they brought into his world would never be lost on him.

“Daddy!” Azzie shrieked, barreling for him. Her little legs bounding through the room as quickly as they could carry her. She looked lovely, wearing a cobalt blue tulle dress that flared at the waist and shimmered throughout the skirts. And his mate, her dress was the cobalt blue equivalent, except it hugged her body all the way to the floor with a slight flare as it met her knees, the peek-a-boo fabric forming a deep “V” at her chest. At one point, the cleavage would have had his cheeks warming into a blush, but now they reddened as it pointed right to where their newest little love was growing.

“You look beautiful, little star.” Azriel crooned, kneeling down as his daughter flung herself into an extended arm, careful to keep the sleeping babe tucked in tight to his other. Her scent so familiar to him that sometimes he forgot that it was a combination of Rhysand and his mate’s and not his own.

It never bothered him though. While the dynamic was peculiar, it worked. He loved Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx as his own family. Rhys always respected Azriel’s decisions when it came to Azzie, while still loving her unconditionally.

Azriel looked to find Y/N’s eyes twinkling as she took in the three of them, love flowing freely into him through the bond. Her hand settled on the swell of her abdomen. He couldn’t believe they were fortunate enough to have gotten pregnant again so soon, though it was perhaps less of luck and more of his lovely wife’s nymph heritage. But to him - it felt pretty damn lucky.

It was then that the babe started to fuss.

“My sweet little Illyrian baby.” Y/N cooed, extending her arms, as Azriel carefully handed their son over. The babe instantly snuggled into his mother’s warmth, his cherub face turning toward her fabric covered breast, rooting for milk. With a soft smile and a playful roll of her eyes, she excused herself and the baby, heading down a quiet corridor where she could nurse him in peace.

I don’t dance but here I am, spinning you around and around in circles.

Azriel looked down to find Azure looking up at him in question. A familiar tempo filled his ears, the soft melody reminding him of days past. He looked down at his daughter, marveling over how much she’d grown over these years. He’d spent over five-hundred years in this world, lost but finding solace in his found family and then Rhys brought home Y/N from under the mountain, turning fifty years of peril into the most bittersweet blessing of his immortal lifespan.

There she had been, his mate, carrying his brother’s child - and he didn’t give a damn about blood. Azure and Y/N were his to cherish and love. And the added element of Rhys? It only solidified that his found family, was his true family.

It’s not my style but I don’t care, I’d do anything with you anywhere.

Y/N sat in a quiet room at the house of wind, the babe was almost asleep, he’d just needed her warmth and comfort to soothe him. She relished this moment, because though her breast was an instant pacifier, Azriel was typically the one to settle the children. The hum of his shadows and his presence, somehow iron-strong and yet, warm and safe, a beacon of comfort.

Tonight, she was the one to comfort the baby and she made certain to relish the moment, these days were fleeting, passing far too quickly for her liking. She needed to wean him, was in the process of it, but she had to admit that it felt nice to be needed.

Seated on a plush ottoman, she leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes as visions of Azriel, of their family danced through her mind. Azriel, her best friend, her strength, her sword, her shield, her everything. The protector of peace and love in their family. She hoped he knew how much he meant to them. She needed to remind him. She would tonight. He’d been her rock through everything. Not everyone would have taken to their mate carrying the child of another with such acceptance and devotion, yet her Shadowsinger had taken it all in stride. He’d never been jealous of her friendship with Rhys, he’d never belittled her for her past, he loved her through and through. He was the glue that held them together.

When Azzie was born Rhys came by the house with gifts and sweet praises, but it was Azriel who had held Y/N’s hand through each hour of grueling labor, through each painstaking contraction, each bitter curse through the pain.

When Azzie broke her arm at the park in Velaris, it was Rhys who took her for ice cream to lift her spirits. It was Azriel who had gently washed off the dirt and the tears from her eyes, spirited her to Madja’s without a second thought, and it was Azriel who rocked her until she fell asleep, spending the night on her floor in case the pain woke her up.

When a kindergarten bully made fun of her wings, Rhys reminded her how beautiful and strong she was. It was Azriel who decided then to stop holding back on teaching her to fly. They spent all weekend working on wing extensions and proper maneuvers for lifting off the ground.

And his girl? She was a natural. Azure quickly realized that her wings were a gift, she’d heard the song of the wind and how it called for her. She hadn’t viewed any snide comments as a slight since.

Y/N’s heart swelled at the thought of her mate and the life they’d built together.

You took my two left feet and danced away with my heart.

Azure looked up to Azriel. “Daddy, it’s my favorite song.” A smile curved his lips. A heartwarming memory of humming the same melody to her when she was the same age as her baby brother came to mind. He’d held her to his chest, allowing Y/N the much needed rest she deserved after weeks of colic-ridden nights. Poor Azzie had struggled so much, and Y/N had been so overtired, she’d tried so hard. In the end it was his shadows, the same shadows that soothed him during the hardest nights of his childhood, that began to hum the melody. He hummed along with them and Azure was out in moments.

That was his first dance with his daughter.

I don’t dance but here I am.

He’d never been one for dancing. He’d of course learned what he needed to for courtly affairs, it’d taken Mor 400 years to get him to go out to Ritas, he’d danced with Nesta once in the Hewn City to save Cassian’s ass after an impulsive move. He’d danced with Y/N in front of the fire in their living room on several occasions, and every Starfall since. Until his girls, he’d never felt the need to dance before an audience, but he’d do anything for them. Hell, he may have been a bastard for it but he even took an infinitesimal amount of pride in the world seeing that the stone-cold Shadowsinger was more than just a weapon, he was more than capable of love and, after much patience and understanding from Y/N, knew he was worthy of being loved in return.

So, Azriel took Azzie’s hand and let her lead him to the dance floor. He got lost in the music, the feel of her small hands holding onto his much larger, scarred one. She didn’t see the blood they’d elicited, the internal scars that haunted him, she saw the loving hands of her father that held hers when she needed comfort. She saw the gentle male at his core, the same gentle male that her mother had fallen in love with, that he’d found a life of bliss with.

I’d do anything with you anywhere.

“Dad?” A female’s voice stirred Azriel from his sleep. He opened his eyes to find a strong, confident raven-haired angel before him. His daughter. How fast life had gone.

“It didn’t take THAT long to curl my hair.” She snickered.

“Cut me some slack, Azzie, I’m six-hundred years old and your mother was up fretting over today’s details all night.”

A soft smile curled her rosy lips. It was so similar to Rhys’ but those hazel eyes of hers, gods, they still shone just as brightly as they did the day she was born. His eyes. A gift Y/N swore was granted from the mother herself, Azriel was inclined to agree.

Azure stepped forward, brushing an out of place lock from his forehead. “You ready?”

Azriel huffed a sound that fell somewhere in the range of chuckle and exasperation. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Striding arm and arm out the door, they walked in companionable silence down the hall of the temple. His little girl had grown so fast and today he’d hand her over to her own mate. The moments blurred as they met up with Rhys at the doors to the main hall of the temple, his violet eyes misty, much like Azriel’s.

You’ve got me in the palm of your hand.

The males escorted her down the aisle, reveled in the vibrant smile she flashed to her mate, the words of love and adoration they shared. Azriel only grieved how quickly time passed but he’d found joy that today they officially welcomed a new member to their family. Not that her mate hadn’t already been accepted by the entire inner circle, but today it was official.

The moments flew by and before Azriel knew it, the small audience of friends and family were gathered to witness the father-daughter dance. A mortal tradition that some fae had adopted. Azriel’s heart swelled as he and Azure stepped onto the dance floor, drifting into fluid graceful movements. She’d reserved this moment just for them. There was no bitterness from Rhys as he watched proudly from Feyre’s side as the father who raised Azzie handed her off from their dance, to her mate.

And then, Azriel sauntered to his own beautiful mate. The one who taught him that hope can be found even in the darkest of places, the one who showed him what unconditional love could do for a soul, the one who he’d built a family with. Extending a scarred hand that he no longer was ashamed of, he took her hand and swept her into his arms, dancing the rest of the night away with his mate, his home.

I don’t dance.

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I hope you all enjoyed this follow up and that the timeline jumps made sense. Thank you for reading, I adore you all!

Tags

ACOTAR General: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

Thanks to whomever submitted this request for inspiring me to write a follow up 🥰

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #Azriel x daughter #azriel’s daughter #azriel fluff #Shadowsinger #coparenting #step parent #adoption #acotar fluff

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arabellasleopardcoat · 1 year ago

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Lookalike (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Warnings: Oh man. What a trip. Rapunzel, innocence kink, daddy issues, cursing, mature language. Light groping, kissing. Daemon, and all his usual warnings. Manipulation. I tried to make it whimsical. You know, a fairy tale.

Requested: Yup. For the bingo. Daemon + retelling of another story. Posted it early because I couldn't sleep last night so I stayed up finishing this.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called Westeros, lived a King and a Queen. The Queen was a beautiful woman, with hair made of spun silver and gold.

The King and the Queen had a daughter, a bright girl called Rhaenyra. They loved her deeply, but as many powerful men behind him, the King could not help but wish for a son.

When the Queen had carried Rhaenyra, her pregnancy had been harsh. She had struggled to fall with child, and when she had, she had been sick the whole time. The Queen was not too sure if she could withstand another pregnancy.

“My love, I need my heir.” The King said to her. “You must help me and try again.”

“But husband, you know we cannot. The Maester said pregnancies were too rough on me."

“If I can't have my heir, I fear I will lose my throne!”

So the Queen decided to try again. Soon, she was with child. Yet, the Queen could feel something was different, this time. She got twice as large as she was when she was carrying Rhaenyra, her body ached even more. Only the hottest baths could soothe her abundant pains.

“This pregnancy is not normal, not normal at all.” Said the Maester, when examining the Queen. “I fear the delivery will be hard.”

And hard it was. For there was not one baby but two. A girl and a boy, a moon and a sun. The parents only found out when the Queen was unable to deliver the baby, and the King, believing it to be his precious heir, ordered the Maester to cut her open.

Wailing into the world they came, shrieks so loud they rose half the Red Keep. Every bell in the city was toiling for them. The King named his heir Baelon. The girl, the little moon, was forgotten. That was you.

Too young to know it then, your first hours were spent in your sister's arms, both of you forgotten in favor of the new heir. But it was barely hours at all when your little brother passed away.

At the funeral, the King was the picture of despair. His Queen was dead by his hand, his heir lasted no longer than a day. Now a father to a baby girl he didn’t know how to care for, and an unruly maiden.

Perhaps, sensing his despair and hoping to offer some words of comfort, and Arryn cousin took you from him and gasped:

“By the Sevens! If she is the very image of Aemma as a babe.” No one took in consideration that this Arryn cousin was not, in fact, older than the Queen.

“Is she?” The King asked, on the verge of tears. Your father could not stop remembering your mother’s face, as the Maester aided your entrance into the world. Her cries haunted him even in his sleep. He was turning into a decaying corpse, from inside out, guilt rotting him alive. “Rhaenyra, come here.”

“Father?”

“Does she look like your mother?”

Your sister squinted at you. You yawned, a toothless, sweet thing. Rhaenyra wasn't very knowledgeable about babes, but she liked you. You had grabbed into her finger the first time you had seen her, tiny fingers turning into the most adorable rings.

“She has her beauty.” She answered, politely. The King hummed, an idea sparkling into his head. Soon, the highest tower in the Red Keep was being repurposed, and the Hand relocated.

Nine and ten years later, that brings us to you, in a continent named Westeros. Inside it, Seven Kingdoms. Inside them, a city called King's Landing. Inside the city is a castle. In the castle, a tower. In the tower is a room. In the room, a girl. You.

You stared at your reflection, squaring your shoulders. You gave yourself a big smile.

“Father, I want to try claiming a dragon.” You repeated to the mirror, before shaking your head. “No, no. Too disrespectful. Lord Father, I was wondering if I could go and try to claim a dragon?”

The reflection did not answer. You frowned. You didn't like groveling, but you weren't too sure of what else you could do. Perhaps, sending him a note would be better.

As the youngest sister of the heir to the Iron Throne, you had led a sheltered life. Even more so, as the spitting image of his late wife, according to your father. When looked in the right light, your eyes were the same shade hers had been. And the way you spoke did resemble the short, clipped speech of the Vale.

No one dared question those things, even though your accent had been ensured by your father by providing you with tutors only from that region. The King was very protective of you, set on expiating his guilt over the death of your mother by ensuring your safety.

All of your care had been provided by him after her death. Viserys knew nothing about child-rearing, but refused to let any servant touch you beyond the wet nurse. You grew into a child, and your father didn't even know how to cut your long, silver hair.

Years passed, and soon you learned to take care of yourself. Used to long hair as you were, you never thought about cutting it. Instead, your mind was preoccupied with more urgent matters. For example, how could you get out of the Red Keep.

Sometimes, your father's protection turned overbearing. Unlike your older sister, you were not allowed to leave the castle. Nor had you been allowed to partake in the activities other young ladies did. The only way you had managed to know the world around you had been through your books and observations.

Your rooms were in the tallest tower in the Red Keep, ensuring you would be kept safe from intruders and even invaders, if such a thing ever came to pass. You had double the guards Rhaenyra and Viserys did. Instead of providing his new Queen with a sworn shield, he had chosen to devote all the Kingsguard to you.

While you knew your tower had been used for other things before, it had clearly been refurnished. Now, it worked as a castle of its own, inside which you had a tiny kitchen, bathing quarters, rooms, and a library. The idea was that you would never need anything outside it. A tiny universe, just for you. You had plenty of space for your books and trinkets, but it made for a lonely existence.

Each time there were unknown men roaming the Keep, you got sent back to your tower. Your father didn't like the idea of you being married off or corrupted by them. You were too precious, too good. He had said that when the day came, he would find you a good match. One that, you suspected, would keep you close to home. Perhaps Aegon, or one of your cousins in the Vale.

If you married at all, of course. Your father had gone through a phase of encouraging your faith in the Seven, in the hopes of you deciding to be a Septa. If you did, the King would be most pleased, for it would mean you would never suffer the same fate as your mother.

You wanted neither. What you wanted more than anything was to see the world, do the things Rhaenyra told you happened outside the Red Keep. And according to you, it would all get started if you got your own dragon.

With a dragon, you would be protected. Your father always used your lack of one as an argument for denying you the experiences ladies your age had. Your egg had not hatched, but if you claimed one, you would surely be allowed to leave.

Unfortunately, what was required to be able to bond with a dragon had been deemed too dangerous for you. King Viserys had banned you from the dragon pit, arguing that dragons could be unpredictable.

Today, you had been sent back to your tower due to an impromptu visit from your Uncle Daemon. You knew the man by reputation only, by how much he angered your father. If there was one person who you were prohibited from speaking to, it was him.

You had heard the rumors, of course. A few years back, after your mother's passing, he had taken Rhaenyra to a pleasure house. Whatever had happened inside was between her and him. To your father, though, it was enough to keep you away from him.

Smile. Square your shoulders. Try again to assert yourself. You eyed your reflection once again, wondering how you could convince the King to let you try to get a dragon. Outside, something scraped against a rock, again and again. Curious, you went to the window.

On the very base of your tower, there was a man hopelessly attempting to climb upwards. He was very dashing, sporting the same silver hair you did, only much shorter.

“Who are you?” You asked, slightly frightened. In truth, you were not used to strangers being so close to you. Your father always said men were dangerous, and that outside the Red Keep there were aberrant creatures, mean and ruthless, that hurt young maidens for their enjoyment. “Step away from my tower, or I shall call my guards!”

The man ignored you, choosing instead to stab a sword between the rocks that made up your tower. You screamed, alarmed.

“Stop that! That's not allowed, you are damaging my tower.”

The man ignored you, trying to use his sword to climb. He grunted in exertion. You ran towards your chambers and filled a jar with water. Then, you ran back to your window and dumped it on his head.

The man shrieked and fell down the few meters he had managed to progress. You laughed, startled.

“Aren't you a fearsome thing?” He muttered to himself. Then, he looked up at you, with the most purple eyes you had ever seen. “Please, Princess. Help me out.”

“Why should I? You are an intruder.” You glared down at him, not even entertaining the notion, but deciding to play along regardless. In truth, you were curious about him. And starved for companionship.

“I am being chased.” He screamed up at you, frantically looking behind him. “Please, help me.”

You leaned down towards your window, bracing your arms on the edge of it.

“Bad business, that.” Your voice was cheery and woefully uninterested. This was the most exciting that had happened to you in years, you were not about to stop it. But at the same time, you did remember all of your father's warnings. There were people out there that were not kind.

“Damn it, you are just like Aemma. Pair of cynics.” He cursed, and started to try to retrieve his sword. Your eyebrows raised.

“You knew my mother?”

The man looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. He squinted at you. His bone structure reminded you of someone.

“I did.”

Your mother. A cynic. You smiled. No one had ever told you about her, not beyond all those polite things everyone said about the dead. How kind she was, how beautiful and learned. It did nothing to make you feel closer to her, these empty platitudes. They were generic, they could be talking about any woman.

Your father never went beyond that, either. The Aemma he talked about was an idolized version of her, a woman frozen into a perfect state of likeness to the Mother. He didn't allow anyone to contradict him, not even Rhaenyra. When you were younger, she had told you your mother had been hesitant about having another pregnancy, and struggling to carry another baby to term. Your father had banned her from visiting you during the next six moons.

But this stranger was speaking of her as if he knew her well. Your heart ached to know more about your mother, know the real her. It was enough to help you make your choice. You gathered your hair and threw it down the window.

“Come up then.” You ordered.

The man looked at the mass of hair in bewilderment. He touched a strand of it, fascinated by the way it picked up the light. He did not move.

“Use it as rope. You won't hurt me.” Were all men so dumb? Surely, if this one was so slow, he could not be a threat.

“Of course. Magic hair. Fucking Viserys.” The man started to climb. He got quickly inside, panting with exertion.

“You know my father, too?” Your body tensed. This, you did not like. What if he was one of the men that were supposed to visit the castle today? One of those who corrupted and hurt young maidens?

Your heart started to beat harder and harder. You tried to convince yourself he might not be a bad man. Perhaps, he had met the King through your mother. Regardless, you turned away from him, keeping your voice and posture deceivingly calm.

“Would you like some water?” You did not wait for an answer, starting to move towards the kitchen. You reached into a cabinet, as if searching for a cup.

The man followed. You could hear his footsteps on the stone floor.

“I do know your father.” His voice was strange. As if he were realizing he was making a mistake but couldn't pinpoint why. Uninterested, you took out a cup. “He is a great King.” He added, hurriedly. Just in time for you to grab a pan, turn and smack it against his head as hard as you could.

The man dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You hiked up your skirts and rushed to his side. Kneeling by him, you took a closer look at his sword and grinned. You had seen it before. In your books. That was Dark Sister, Visenya's sword.

You had caught Daemon Targaryen. What better proof to show your father that you were not helpless? You tied him to a chair and gagged him for good measure. Then, you pushed him inside your bathing quarters. Only then did you call for a guard.

“Could you summon my father? I need him.” The guard bowed, but didn't speak. Most of them didn't. Your father said they weren't allowed to.

Despite not receiving an answer, you knew your father would be here soon. He always came when you called. You placed a kettle in the fire. Before it could boil, King Viserys was already there.

“Dear.” The King kissed your forehead. You tried not to wrinkle your nose at the smell of herbs and milk of the poppy. Your father always smelled like a medicine cabinet. “As beautiful as your mother, like always.”

You smiled.

“Father. Tea is not ready yet, but sit.” You pointed to your small parlor. When you were a child, the two of you had used to pretend you were a great lady, hosting tea parties there. It had been how he had taught you courtly manners.

The memory was bittersweet. Your father was good to you. He had raised you as best as he could, loving you more fiercely than any of his other children. It was not your intention to upset him, but you knew this topic would do exactly that.

“Were you lonely, my heart?” The King settled on one of the loveseats. You sat across from him.

“I did miss you.” You gave him a coy little look. “But I asked you to come for something else.”

“Do tell.”

“Father. I think I am ready to claim a dragon.” You rushed to say, almost tripping over your words. Already, you could see how his expression was clouding over, a storm raging behind his eyes.

“You know you are not.” The King answered, sternly. “It's too dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.” You fought for your tone to remain even. If it came out too angered, your father would say you were hysteric or having a tantrum, and refuse to take you seriously. So was the curse of being a woman.

“My heart, you have never stepped out of this tower.”

And you had not. But what did dragons care about one's knowledge of the world? You had read about dragons bonding with babes, sharing their cradle with them. To claim one, being well traveled or wise was not required. One had to be chosen, that was all.

You raised your hands in the air, palms up, as if placating a beast.

“I don't want you to get upset, Father. I wanted to prove to you that I am capable, too.” You got up and opened the door to your bathing quarters. “Do not be scared.”

The bound Daemon was still gagged, inside the tub. This time, though, he was awake. Upon seeing his brother, he immediately started screeching and squirming, making up a ruckus.

“Shh.” You said to him, kicking the tub a little. He was turning out to be a very annoying guest. “As you can see, Father, I caught him.”

“And you put him in the tub.” The King said, perplexed.

“He was dripping water all over my floors.” But your explanations fall on deaf ears, since your father has already moved on from his shock. He grabbed Daemon's shirt, forcing him to sit upright.

“Haven't I told you this tower is out of limits?” The King barked at him. “I will throw you into the deepest, more dark and humid dungeon I can find, and then I will…”

“Father.” You did not like being ignored. Daemon was a secondary concern, you just wanted to know if you were allowed out now.

Yet, your father seems to think the issue was an entirely different thing.

“Oh. Sorry, dear. What father meant is that Uncle Daemon has been very bad.” He gave him a shake for good measure.

“I can tell.” Your tone was flat. “Have I proven myself enough to be allowed to try to claim a dragon?”

The King let go of Daemon. He turned towards you and tenderly started checking you over for injuries.

“I would die if something happened to you.” He answered, evasive. You didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was too dangerous. It was a no.

Five more long days went by. Poor you, having to stay all day in your tower. After Daemon, your father had now deemed it too dangerous to allow you to roam the Red Keep. It was the tower and nothing more. All you could do was sing Old Valyrian songs and look out the windows. Sometimes, birds would chirp from above, and you would feel slightly better, as if they were singing with you.

Perhaps it had been your song, what had led him to you. Perhaps it had been his own guilty consciousness for a sin long forgotten, or a sliver of empathy for the lonely girl in the tower up above. Whatever it was, before the sixth day came to an end, Daemon appeared under your window.

“Princess, Princess, let your hair down.” You heard him say. You walked to your window, curiously. Daemon was back!

“Come down if you want to be free.” The Prince ordered. “I do not have much time.”

His words stilled you. Freedom. Your father often said freedom was a dangerous thing. If you let people make their own choices, it was much more likely that they would choose unwisely. That was why you were kept in the tower, safe from the world and bad decisions. As long as King Viserys controlled your life, you would be protected.

But what if you left? What if you ran, jumped out of your tower and made your way to Dragonstone to get your dragon? You imagined a version of yourself, dress fluttering in the wind like a flag as you ran, barefooted in the sand. You imagined yourself feeling the sun in your face, having your first cup of mead or watching a parade.

Then you imagined yourself tripping and falling into the sea. You didn't know how to swim. No one saw the need to teach you such a thing. You imagined yourself at the parade, getting robbed. You imagined a man, trying to hurt you. What if people out there, what if Daemon, were truly as wretched as your father said they were?

Your face must have shown your distress because Daemon, impatient, shouted something more.

“I won't hurt you.” The Prince raised his hands in surrender. “I will not tell you I am a good man, but I will take you to Dragonstone.”

His honesty was what sealed the deal. You threw your hair down, grabbed one of your warmest cloaks, and shouted for him to loop your hair around a branch and not let go.

Daemon obeyed. You jumped, and as your feet hit the floor, you wished to be able to say you didn't look back. But you did. And as you saw the silhouette of your tower getting smaller and smaller in the distance, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness deep in your chest.

Noticing how quiet you have gotten, Daemon adjusts your cloak and gives you a grin.

“Do you want to ride Caraxes?” He asks. You match his grin, sadness nearly forgotten. There is a whole world out here, begging to be explored. You can be sad later when the adventure ends.

Caraxes is the most bewitching creature you have ever seen. He is red and serpentine, looking so much like the drawings of dragons you used to do as a child. You nearly scream in excitement.

Daemon whispers to him to stay calm, but Caraxes seems to sense your happiness, for he keeps trying to correspond your loving pets.

“Oh, by the Seven Hells.” The Prince pushes you towards the saddle. “If neither of you stop the tail wagging, we are going to get caught.”

“And we don't want that.” You agree, kissing Caraxes' scales one last time.

Caraxes gives another excited, full-body wag. He seems to be preening under the attention. Daemon must not praise him very much, which is a shame.

“You are such a good boy. So pretty, too.”

Caraxes preens even more. It makes his body shake, tail hitting against the floor in an ominous beat. Daemon groans.

“Enough, enough.” The Prince grabs you by the waist and gets you up in the saddle. You shriek in laughter. Caraxes appears to be happy about it, too, since he starts spreading his wings. “We are going to get caught.”

Daemon jumps into the saddle, hugging you tightly to him. You squirm, unused to the closeness of another human being. When your father and Rhaenyra touch you, it's never like this.

Daemon feels overwhelming, in the best kind of way. His chest is firm, and his smell surrounds you. His arms around your waist hold you tight, but remain loose enough to not hurt you. Your hips fit snugly against his, and make something you can't yet name stir in your lower belly.

It's different. It's strange. You want it to stop. Why do you feel so nervous, as if Caraxes was suddenly dropping down and not barely getting ready to fly?

“Soves, Caraxes.” Daemon orders, careful not to scream in your ear. “Are you alright, little Princess?”

You cease your squirming, hoping that he doesn't notice whatever is different with you.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“You keep squirming as if there were ants inside your bodice. Are you uncomfortable?” The Prince snickers by your ear, pressing a soft kiss right by the top of it. What happens next is impossible to hide. Your body gives a shiver, all of your hairs standing up. The sensation is as confusing as it is pleasant.

“My stomach feels funny.” You complain, knowing that it isn't exactly that, but close enough that he probably won't question it.

“Funny how?” Daemon kisses behind your ear. You make a hurt, confused noise. You have been kissed before, but never there. In your experience, kisses are not this devastating.

“Funny.” You refuse to elaborate because while naive, you are not dumb. This must be precisely why your father wanted you away from men. If they were able to inflict so much pleasure, it was no wonder why maidens let them do whatever they wanted to them.

“Does it hurt, little Princess?” One of his palms goes to your lower stomach, pressing slightly. “Here?”

You squirm. So he definitely knows.

“Yes.”

“Hurts? Or…?” Daemon's hand goes dangerously low, nearly pressing between the parting of your legs. You squirm more. He brushes something that makes you jolt, delighted.

“We shouldn't.” You answer. It would be much more convincing if you were not relaxing into him. He laughs right in your ear, but retracts his hand.

Even with his hands away from your most sensitive areas, you still feel worked up. Your bodice is too rough against your skin, the way Caraxes moves under both of you makes the area between your legs tingle.

You keep your eyes firmly on the sky in front of you. As it starts to change into pinks and yellows, the feeling ebbs and starts to fade. You feel sleepy, so you recline more against Daemon. A tiny yawn escapes you.

“Tired?” Daemon brushes your hair back, much more tenderly than your father would. With your father, the touch is always harsher, more possessive. As if he is always grasping to the last threads of Aemma he can hold. With Daemon, it feels like he is actually touching you.

You hum, soft and sweet.

“Sleep, little one.” He kisses your cheek. “I'll wake you up when we get there.”

The next time you wake up, it is in an unknown bedroom. At first, you panic. The canopy over the bed looks too similar to the one in your tower, and you wonder if perhaps you dreamed it all. Daemon, Caraxes, the flight, your feelings. Then, you get even more scared because the more you look, the more you realize this is not your room.

You get out of bed. You are still dressed in the same dress you were wearing earlier, but your shoes are gone. The door is closed. Fear grips at you. What if Daemon has sold you to someone evil and rotten, as your father says people outside the Red Keep are? What if he is the evil man?

You rush to the door. It opens easily. There is a hallway that looks much like the ones in the Red Keep, but there is no one there. You scream in fear.

Another of the doors opens in the hallway. Daemon, in a sleeping shirt and breeches, runs out.

“Princess!” He hurries to your side. You are crying, you realize, as he wipes away some of your tears. “What is it?”

“I woke up alone, and I didn't recognize…” You sob, softly.

“Oh, little girl.” Daemon scoops you in his arms. “I should have thought of that. I am so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look at him, eyes swollen from your crying.

The world had impressed you during the day, but now that the night had fallen, and you found yourself in an unknown castle, you were afraid. What if there were monsters lurking in the hallways? Or if you needed something? What if someone hurt you?

“I do not want to go back there. I am scared.” You rubbed your eyes. Your hands dug into his arm, not wanting to let go of him.

“Do you wish me to keep you company while you fall back asleep?” Daemon asked, gently smoothing your hair down. You must look a mess, and would find it embarrassing were it not for the fact that being alone in such a big place terrifies you. At this point, you would do anything to keep him here.

“Please.” No more words are needed. Daemon doesn't want you to beg, nor does he want anything in exchange. It's comforting.

One of his hands goes to your shoulder blades, leading you back to the room. Daemon tucks you in and sits by your side.

“I'll stay until you fall asleep.” He says, smoothing down your frown with the gentlest touch. Daemon starts to hum in High Valyrian, softly. You know the melody. It's about flames and burning together. Almost against your will, your eyelids start to drop.

“Don't… Don't want you to go.” Your body feels so heavy, as if sinking into the mattress. With great effort, you manage to curl your fingers around one of his.

“Oh, Princess.” He says, interlacing your hands.

“Stay.” You order.

Daemon lets go of your hand, and you whine, awake instantly. You go to sit up, but he shushes you.

“Shh. I am just… Let me.” He slides under the covers, behind you. You close your eyes, trying to relax against him. It's no hardship at all. Now that the candles have been blown, the light is low and Daemon feels so warm against you.

He starts to trace your features. Finger meets brow, temple, cheek. Thumb brushes nose, then lips. Idly, so very idly, his voice mutters near your ear.

“How many mouths has yours kissed?”

The question startles you. You suppose there is no harm in telling him, yet there is a tinge of embarrassment over it, too. It has finally dawned on you what this new, uncomfortable, thrilling feeling is. Desire. You lust after Daemon.

“I have…” You answer, softly. You do not dare speak it out loud. Not when you rather know exactly how far the two of you are. “How about you?”

“I have lost count. Twenty, perhaps more so.” Daemon says it so casually, as if it did not matter at all. But to you, it does. What are you, compared to this man? How could you want him in such a manner, having so little to offer?

“What makes it special, then?” There has to be a reason for him to bother with kissing all these people. Perhaps, to him, all kisses feel as devastating as his does to you.

“The person, I would gather.” The Prince answers, softly rubbing your back as one would do to help a child fall asleep. You frown. It does make sense. You know what love is, after all. Being in love with someone, or at least desiring them, must make it special.

You would like to kiss him, you think. Daemon is handsome, and his touch does not feel as damning as other's do. He has already provided you with pleasure, even if unknowingly.

You make a wish, then. For your first kiss to be special, with someone you like and that knows what they are doing. If not Daemon, at least someone like that.

“Was your first special?” You ask, curious.

“No. She was terrible. Sharp teeth and all.” Daemon moves your hair aside, exposing your neck. You barely get any warning before he is taking a bite out of your nape. For a playful gesture, it's oddly painful. Your body tenses, and you try to fight it, but Daemon's hands are like a vice around your waist. “Like this.”

With no other choice, you ride it out. Pain is nearly unfamiliar to you, beyond small cuts or painful cycles. It's scorching red and hot, making you break into a sweat. Daemon forces you to take, and take, gently holding your hands in his. It's only after that you go limp under him, twitching slightly, that he lets up.

The aftermath of pain is sweet, you learn. Daemon kisses around the painful bite and blows a raspberry behind your ear. Now that he has let go of your nape, you find out that the pain was not so bad. You are not even bleeding.

“You are such a good girl.” Daemon praises. “So strong. I'm so proud of you.”

You preen as if you were Caraxes, delighted to make him feel proud of you. Daemon smiles against your temple, as if amused by you, and presses a little kiss there. It’s so tender, and so loving, a sharp contrast to his earlier behavior. It makes you feel as if you were once again on dragonback.

“Could you kiss me?” The words escape out of your mouth, without any real thinking. You know they are the wrong thing to say as soon as they leave your mouth.

Daemon pulls away from you. A hurt, confused noise leaves your throat, hands desperately searching back for his warmth.

“Oh, little Princess.” Daemon mutters, tone full of regrets. “I should not.”

“Why not?” You complain. You are not used to being denied so. The only times others do not bend to your will, you get what you want by your own means. Case in point, leaving your tower. Your father had said no, so you had ensured it happened by other means.

“I have done…. What I have done to you, why I took you…” Suddenly, it is as if an icy hand has taken hold of your throat and started to suffocate you. Betrayal settles over your features, overpowering it all.

“You are only doing this to piss off my father.” You say, shocked. Daemon raises his hands, trying to interrupt you, but you halt him with an imperious wave. “You had no intention of taking me to the dragons. You sought to ruin my reputation, as you did Rhaenyra's.”

“No, Princess, no.” Daemon shakes his head. You get up from the bed, angered. He does not try to stop you. “I swear I didn't mean for anything untoward to happen.”

“I bet you said that back then, too.” You retort. You have half a mind to do something crazy. To grab the fire poker and smash his head with it, to set the whole place on fire. You want to make him hurt.

“I… I did mean to anger your father.” Daemon admits, still trying to placate you. It only makes you wish to scream and scream and never stop. “But I do think it is a shame not to let you even try. Dragons are your birthright. Denying you is unnatural.”

You glare at him. You are unconvinced of the truthfulness of his words. Your father was right. You were unprepared for the world, and it couldn't show more. Daemon has tricked you as easily as if he were taking candy from a babe.

“I'll take you there regardless. I promised to.” His eyes are pleading, but you do not wish to hear him, or see him any longer. Instead, you sit in front of the vanity and look at yourself.

The long, silver hair. The scared eyes. The night, the first you have of freedom, is spent utterly cold and miserable. You stare at yourself and stare at yourself until you think you are going mad.

Daemon does not say a word. He doesn't leave the room, either. Perhaps he falls asleep at some point, perhaps he does not.

You look at your reflection again. You look at your hair. Silver, like his. The lovely color Daemon loves so much. Long, and braided back, flaunting your maidenhood and youth. Forever your father's little girl, never allowed to grow, to love, to lust.

A braid that long won't allow you to claim a dragon. You are more likely to set yourself on fire or trip on it. It's that thought that gives you the determination needed to do what needs to be done.

In the first drawer of the vanity there are a few miscellaneous ribbons. There is also a pair of scissors. You grab it, and grab your braid. You chop it off. As it falls from your shoulder, you feel a weight lift off from you. No longer your nape is heavy with the weight of all these expectations laying on you.

There is a woman staring at you, from the mirror. She looks like she is getting ready for war, eyes alight with determination. You stare at the contours of her face, mesmerized by what you see. All traces of Aemmas's ghost are gone from your reflection. You look more like yourself than you have ever done.

Daemon is up at sunrise. He may have been watching you chop all your hair off and expose the lovely bite mark that now mars the skin of your nape. He may have been sleeping. Whatever it is, he doesn't say a word about your change of appearance, choosing instead to dress in silence.

“Off we go.” He says, briskly, leading you out of the castle. Daemon points to a hill in the distance. “But after that, you are on your own.”

You are suddenly filled with doubt, the determination you had felt when looking in the mirror dissipating under the morning light. Your stomach clenches. Your legs are sore, unused to the exercise of riding. The bite on your neck burns.

"I do not feel ready to claim a dragon.” You say to him, as you get closer and closer to the hill. You feel like a fool. What if your father is right? What if you end this escapade with nothing to show but a ruined reputation?

“You are.” Daemon answers, barely paying attention. It makes you angry beyond belief. To make your mood known, you stomp over a few leaves, grinding them to dust under your heel. Ugh. Why were you looking to him for reassurance in the first place? It was not like Daemon wanted to help you. He just wanted to make himself feel less guilty over trying to cause a scandal and kill your father from the fright.

“I am not.” It’s almost as if you can hear the voice of your father in your head, telling you exactly why no dragon would bond with you. You are a fool, you are a little girl, you…

“You are a Targaryen.” Daemon interrupts your trail of thought with a squeeze to your nape. Right over the bite. It makes your knees nearly buckle. “You were born ready.”

“But what if it isn't enough? What if they see me, and don't want me? I am not brave, like Rhaenyra, or cunning like you or learned like my father. ”

“They will.” Daemon says. “Because you are strong here.” He taps your sternum. “And your father is a fool for not seeing it.”

You look at him. Past the guilt, past the acting up to get your father's attention. His eyes are nervous, but they hold the same steely determination yours had earlier. Daemon believes in you, you realize. You look up at the hill and think to yourself, it is time to see if you can claim a second dragon.

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melodyanqel · 3 months ago

Text

Far Away | cj

summary: times have been rough for jongho due to being long-distance from his precious family. so, he receives a surprise.

pairing: idol!husband!father!jongho x non-idol!wife!mother!reader

genre/tags: fluff, idol au, established relationship, married couple, family reunion, aniteez cameo

wc: 1k+ words

a/n: i enjoyed writing this fluff and i hope you luvs enjoy reading it (>⩊<)

Coachella ATEEZ.

The title is unreal to the members, the fans, and everyone else in the world. It’s another mega achievement in the group’s career, making it a golden moment in K-pop history. After months, days, hours, and seconds of their lives, the day has come, ready to bring a show. Most importantly, two secret guests are surprising someone. He doesn’t know that his wife and little girl are traveling out of the country to see him.

The mother and daughter have made it to the airport.

“Are you ready to go meet appa, darling?” You asked your beloved angel. She has her small hand holding yours. Choi Juhee, also known as ATEEZ’s princess and ATINY’s baby. A high-spirited two-year-old with the sweetest soul in the world. Juhee can make any stern, cold person melt on the spot because her cuteness is too precious. She has a strong resemblance to her father and it’s a bit uncanny.

Jongho’s pretty boba eyes, round face, defined nose, and smile.

Even her uncles believe Juhee is a ”mini Jongho.”

“Appa? Where?” The baby asked her mother, looking around the area. You laughed softly, “Not here, but we are seeing him.” You tried to have Juhee comprehend that she’ll be with her father soon. Your daughter is still learning to speak and remembering people and places around her. She knows her uncles because she sees them every day.

While waiting for the plane, you and Juhee sit by the entrance. Your little girl is playing with her JJONGbear plush, while you read the messages from the members, excluding Jongho, on a private group chat.

Joongie: Are you boarding yet?

You: We haven’t yet

Wooyo: Jongho has been looking at pictures of you and Juhee throughout the trip

You: Aww. Do you all miss us as well?

Yuyu: Of course!

Sannie: You two make our days better!

Minki: It gets boring without you two

Hwa: Y/N, does Juhee know she is seeing her appa?

You: She does and tried looking for him at the airport lol

Yeo: How cute! I’m excited to carry her and hug you

Reading the adorable and heartwarming messages makes you less anxious because you miss your husband. Jongho’s music career has been evolving as the years go by and the fame did impact his life. He had less time with his family and more about making hits to amaze people. However, you knew what to expect when marrying a celebrity. It’s not something you could control because you adore his hard work and compassion. Despite the idol image, he is still your Jongho.

It was also Juhee’s first time on a plane. She stares through the window and watches the peach sky with wispy clouds glow on her face. “Omma, looks like ANITEEZ.” Juhee directs you with her tiny finger at the window. You immediately understood what she meant because she is obsessed with her ANITEEZ friends. “Oh, wow! It does look like the sky where they sailed their ship.” You looked at your beautiful child with fondness.

Approximately eleven hours later, the mother and daughter landed in California. When existing at the terminal, you notice the group’s manager is waiting for you both. You greeted and thanked them because they knew you’d be coming and wanted to help out for Seonghwa’s surprise.

The gorgeous city is lit up during the dark hours. It creates a magical ambiance that can’t be forgotten.

As a new day begins, you and Seungah are getting ready to meet up with the guys. You also did your best not to let your husband know you were in the same hotel as him.

“Omo! You’re so pretty! Are you an angel from heaven?!”

You are dressing up Juhee in a pretty pink dress with her hair in a ponytail with a glittery silver bow. It has become warmer, these days, so it is best to wear lightweight clothing. Juhee just smiles, revealing her growing teeth. Somewhere in the future, she’ll have a lot of people chasing for her. It once occurred to you that Juhee would be a musician like Jongho. But overall, you will support whatever decision she makes that brings her joy.

“Alright. Let’s see appa and the uncles at the park. Don’t forget baby, we are surprising appa.” You and Juhee are finished getting ready. The outfits are stylish, the makeup is on point, and the hair is nicely done. You also put her JJONGbear in a small backpack.

Upon sneaking up on Jongho, you and Juhee decide to surprise him from behind.

The maknae and his hyungs are sitting under the tree having a picnic in a gorgeous park. Hongjoong is the first to see you and Juhee approaching so quietly. The members except for Jongho see them coming in their direction. They remained calm and quiet as possible.

“While I was practicing, I tried to hold the flag properly during “The Real” performance but the wind–”

“Appa!”

Jongho felt his heart almost jump out of his chest when small arms wrapped around his neck. His eyes widened in shock, as soon as he saw his daughter’s gorgeous face. “Hi, darling.” You nonchalantly greeted your husband with a wave.

At once, his hyungs burst out laughing and cheered ecstatically. Jongho comes back to earth and brings his baby into his arms. Juhee’s infectious laughter filled the air. Jongho presses a kiss onto her mochi cheek. You then join your little family hug. You placed a kiss on Jongho’s temple.

“What is all this?!” Jongho is still confused.

You couldn’t stop smiling at your adorable husband. “A surprise! We all set it up for you because we wanted to cheer you up.” You explained briefly. Jongho’s heart melted. You traveled hours long just to see him.

He brings a kiss on the lips and the members squealed at the sudden bold maknae. Juhee didn’t notice her parents were sharing a sweet affection because she was too focused on the candy. Jongho slips away his lips from yours to say, “Thank you so much, my love.”

You chuckled blithely. “You’re very welcome, my Haribo.” You called him by his nickname. You’ll never stop using it since you first fell for Jongho.

Soon enough, the Choi Bear family and ATEEZ have a lovely picnic together. Not to mention, the members fought over Juhee to have her sit with one of them.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez writing #ateez jongho #jongho ateez #choi jongho #jongho #ateez jongho x reader #jongho ateez x reader #choi jongho x reader #jongho x reader #jongho x y/n #jongho x you #ateez jongho fluff #choi jongho fluff #jongho fluff

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mncxbe · 8 months ago

Note

Sucking duos off...? Like... Sucking Soukoku off at once and Sucking off suegiku at once ..? If you do this, please include suegiku^^ (starving for Tecchou X Jouno X reader) FIC or HC your choice!

- 💄

nonnie😳 i really love your idea omg. it'd really be something considering the dynamics between them hihi hope you like it♡

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: brainrot, nsfw, oral, little bit of degrading, praise, pet names, manhandling and size kink if you squint, hair pulling, established relationship (in dazai's and chuuya's part), sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes i didn't have much time to proofread it♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 & 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂

Dazai doesn't like to share, he needs your undivided attention at all times. That's why the position he was currently in pissed him off so much– he was laying on the couch next to Chuuya with you on your knees in front of them, pretty hands wrapped around their leaking cocks, slowly moving up and down. But your mouth... you've been neglecting him for minutes now, choosing to suck off the redhead instead of him and he just couldn't stand this injustice any longer.

"Bella it's not fair" he cooed, his fingers tugging at your roots in a desperate attempt to pry your mouth off Chuuya's dick "Suck me off too."

"Fuck off, Dazai. Let her do her thing and wait for your turn" snapped Chuuya, shoving Dazai's hand away from your hair and pushing your head lower on his cock. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat but did your best to relax your muscles, slowly managing to take him to his base. "God pretty– you're so good for us. Look how well you take my dick down your throat" Chuuya's free hand moved to the nape of your neck, stroking it gently, a silent praise that made you whimper around his length.

All the while Dazai's frown deepened. You were so focused on Chuuya that you had completely forgotten to jerk him off. Wrapping one of his large hands above yours, the brunette guided your hand up and down his cock. Despite your fucked out mind you managed to pull yourself together and tighten the grip on Dazai's dick while hollowing your cheeks, earning a choked moan from Chuuya. "Shit– baby slow down can't cum yet." he mumbled, letting go of your head and resting his hand on your shoulder as his face scrunched up in pleasure. That was all Dazai needed to hear. With a quick motion he grabbed a hold of your hair and dragged you off Chuuya's cock, bringing your face closer to his erection.

"The fuck you doing" huffed Chuuya, but Dazai paid no mind to him, ordering you to open your mouth for him. And you did, of course you did– only the sight of his throbbing erection was enough to make you melt like butter. The brunette let out a satisfied hum when you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to his tip before taking him down your throat, tongue swirling around his length. "Hah- see Chuuya. She wanted my dick too, she loves it. Who do you think you are to deny her that?" he chuckled, and when you peered up from between his legs you could see the shit eating grin etched on his features.

"Yea... whatever you say, dipshit" grumbled Chuuya but he couldn't deny that seeing you sucking Dazai off did things to him. His cock, still glistening with your saliva and his precum, was throbbing frantically. He was close, but he'd be damned if he was going to cum untouched– Dazai would tease him about it for weeks so he gave his cock a few strokes, bucking his hips into his hand. But Dazai was Dazai and it didn't take him long to realize what his partner was doing. Naturally, he couldn't waste such a precious opportunity to taunt him so he flexed his fingers, combing them through your hair to brush the strands from the side of your face, giving Chuuya full view of what you were doing.

"My, my, Nakahara, you like this? Like seeing our pretty girl taking my dick down her pretty throat?" laughed Dazai, stroking your cheek

"Shut up you–" huffed Chuuya, his eyes glued to your plump lips, wrapped so sweetly around Dazai's dick. You were sucking him off so eagerly and god you looked so beautiful with those tears brimming at your lashline. He ached for you, needed you so desperately in this moment that he didn't even realize how much pre his cock was leaking.

"Wanna see me cum in her mouth? Or should I cum on her face? You name it, Chuuya." said Dazai in a silken voice, pulling your head off his dick for a brief moment. Your mouth fell into an o as you struggled to catch your breath, your chest heaving and lashes fluttering in attempt to get rid of the little tears at the corner of your eyes. When your eyes met his, Chuuya lets out a loud, choked moan, spilling his cum in his hand and you quickly crawled closer to him, taking his fingers into your mouth to lick them clean. "Look at you, bella, never letting a drop of our cum go to waste" chuckled Dazai, watching you lap up Chuuya's milky cum as he began stroking his cock with more force. "Better get ready to swallow mine too."

You put on a good show for the two men, slowly licking the sticky liquid from Chuuya's hand, sucking on his fingers without breaking the intense eye contact with Dazai. It wasn't too long until he grabbed the back of your head again and pulled you towards him. "Fuck... open up beautiful" he instructed and you obeyed, allowing him to shove his aching cock in your mouth and cum down your throat.

When he pulled away, Dazai quickly brushed off the string of cum that connected your lips to his tip and smiled, running his thumb along your bottom lip. "Well, Chuuya, I think it's time we return the favour. What d'you say?"

"I couldn't agree more"

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 & 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐

Jouno and Tecchou knew that you had a massive crush on them, but neither of them made a move. It would've been unethical, considering that you were colleagues and all but when you came to them with such a tempting proposal after a particularly dangerous mission, their resolve broke.

"So... you're saying you want to suck both of us off?" asked Tecchou, raising a brow as he watched you fumble with the buttons of your uniform shirt. "Yup, exactly". "But why?"

"Because, Hiro, I almost died today. And it reminded me just how dangerous our job can be. I don't wanna die before experiencing this with you" . You said all that so casually while undoing Tecchou's belt and lowering his uniform pants and briefs mid-thigh, freeing his half-hard cock. "Besides" you continued, giving his length a few good strokes "You're both pent up and tired. And you deserve this–"

Jouno, who up to that point stood on the side and observed the interaction between you and Tecchou, got off the table he was perched up on. "Don't make this about us, Y/N" he scoffed, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up "We all know this is just about you wanting to get some good dick. So get to it". Jouno brought your face level to Tecchou's erection and you peered up at the man, waiting for some sort of consent.

"Don't force her, Jouno" said Tecchou in his usual levelled voice, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's ok, Y/N, you can take it easy." You lolled out your tongue, giving his tip a quick lick before letting a blob of spit fall on it and spreading it along his length with steady hands.

"Yea..." retorted Jouno "She sure doesn't know what she's doing" Before you got the chance to take Tecchou into your mouth Jouno pulled down his briefs and guided your mouth to his cock. You whined when his tip hit the back of throat, triggering your gag reflex, but Jouno hushed you, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb on the side of your jaw. He could feel your sharp, ragged breath tickling the sensitive skin of his pelvis as he rocked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. "See, Tecchou, slutty girls like her like to be roughed up a bit, just enough to remind them who's in charge"

"You're hurting her, Jouno" protested the brunette but you quickly shook your head and hummed a nuh-uh, signaling Tecchou that you were okay. You could take it. Slowly, you reached out a hand, wrapped it around Tecchou's cock and started pumping him at a steady pace. He hissed, shifting closer to make it easier for you to jerk him off– all the while Jouno continued his deep thrusts. He was bruising the back of your throat, making you choke on that slick mixture of your saliva and his precum that flooded your mouth but the man didn't spare you a moment to catch your breath. "Shhh" he cooed, gathering your hair in a pony tail above your head "Just a little more baby I know you can take it."

Tecchou mused on you with pleading eyes. Your hand was so much softer and smaller compared to his calloused one and it made him feel so, so good. It was cute, really, and watching the way you were struggling to suck Jouno off was making the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten. Jouno noticed the changes in his colleague's demeanor and pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for hair.

"Come here, Tecchou. Face me" he instructed and the brunette obliged, confusion and excitement etched on his pretty features. Jouno guided you between them and smiled down at you, giving the crown of your head gentle strokes "You, my dear, are going to take us both ok?"

"I uh... I don't think this is gonna work" you stammered and Jouno to clicked his tongue in annoyance "We'll make it work. Now open up and take deep breaths. If it hurts pat my leg, ok?" You gave him a hesitant nod before parting your lips and allowing them to slip their dicks inside your mouth. It was a tight fit and Tecchou shuddered when he felt the friction from Jouno's cock. "G-god this is– too much" he sighed, experimentally rocking his hips into your mouth. Jouno resumed his movements too, matching his colleague's pace. Opening your mouth so wide was straining your jaw, their tips poking at the inside of your cheeks, making it impossible for you to hollow them out. Sensing your agitation, Jouno hushed you again, babbling out a few praises. "You're doing well for us, baby. Told you we could make it work. There you go... nice and slow" he sighed, picking up the pace. His mind was clouded with lust– your mouth was so warm, the insides of your cheeks so soft and the obscene slurping sounds you were making only added to the fuel. He could only imagine how beautiful you looked in that moment.

"H-hey Tecchou" he huffed out, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so the brunette could take a better look at your features. "Tell me what she looks like. Describe her to me."

Tecchou swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking in a soft voice "Uh she looks so pretty. Her eyes and lips are all glossy and fuck– she's drooling t-too". His voice cracked when Jouno suddenly came into your mouth and your eyes shot open, a mewl slipping past your lips. The white haired man pulled out of your mouth, granting Tecchou more space. "Keep going" he urged "Tell me how she feels"

"So, so good now" stammered the brunette, his lashes fluttering shut. Your mouth felt so much warmer now and he watched the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock with keen eyes. The white liquid seeped at the corners of your mouth but you managed to gather it with your tongue. When you started hollowing your cheeks again Tecchou was done for "She's sucking me in so much I– god I'm cumming 'm cumming" His hips stuttered, the tip of your nose bumping against his pelvis as he came into your mouth, flooding it with his cum.

"Shit–" he sighed weakly, caressing your face "I came so much, baby. Are you gonna swallow for us?" You nodded eagerly, parting your lips to showcase your now clean mouth, earning a content hum from Tecchou.

Jouno smiled, tucking himself in before helping you up to your feet and leaning closer to whisper in your ear "Let's do this again soon, shall we? I'm curious to see just how far you're willing to go for us, sweetheart."

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 months ago

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A Night Forgotten

Part Three

It’s getting more intense 😈

On top of her earlier worries, now Emoni had an even bigger dilemma to contend with: her boss/secret crush was fully awake...and back to his usual mocking self.

Joy.

What was she going to do now? Her options seemed limited to throwing on her clothes lickety-split and pulling a runner or grabbing the sheet, wrapping it around herself, and demanding he—

The toilet flushed, the tap ran for a moment, and then Erik was standing in the open doorway, drying his hands on a towel. With a quick up and down glance, he took her in from head to toe, and a slow, devastating smile crawled up his cheek. "Well, well. It seems I finally got something right between us, my precious Emoni. It's about fucking time."

Emoni dashed across the room and tore the bedding from the mattress, wrapping the soft, cool satin around her naked body.

“A-ha! So, you don't remember what you did to me last night!" she stated, somewhat miffed by the thought.

Surely it hadn't been that bad a lay...had it?

She tossed him a baleful eye.

“Months of trying to get me on a date, months of both our friends hammering away at me to give you a chance, months of putting up with that humiliating interdepartmental betting pool regarding you and my panties...and you can't even remember fucking me, can you?" She made a pftttt sound and crossed her arms in righteous indignation. "Wow, Erik!"

He laughed. "What a little hypocrite you are, Princess, since it appears you're in the same boat I am...figuratively and literally speaking," he countered, crossing his bulging arms and leaning against the bathroom doorpost. "You can't recall a damn thing about last night, either, can you? Can you?"

Her whole body flushed with sexual awareness and her nipples went instantly hard as Erik challenged her.

How was it that this same defiant behaviour during their formative school days had made her itch to cut his balls off and feed it to him back then, but a dozen years later, now it only made her want to lick him all over instead?

It had to have something to do with the long, attractive package currently swinging between his legs, because as he moved, lounging so sexily in the bathroom doorway, she suddenly found herself staring at it with an eager and lusty appreciation. Gahdamn! it was beautiful! And long…and thick…and—Whatever.

She blinked and forcibly turned away, her cheeks burning. "Will you please put some clothes on so we can talk?" she requested. "You're...distracting."

The Prince actually chuckled at that. "Am I really? Well, then I'll have to politely decline, baby girl. I'm enjoying redirecting your attention towards other more profitable thoughts."

She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "You're arrogance is through the roof about all of this."

"This isn't conceit, Emoni. This is contentment."

"It certainly sounds to me as if your ego is doing all the talking today."

"Well, it's not."

She turned back and cast a cynical expression in his direction. "Then, you’re telling me you’re not happy to swagger and strut around because you finally had sex with me after all these years of trying every line in your playbook to stick your dick in me?!”

He stared hard at her. "No, I'm not. I am, however, feeling a sudden urge to spank that ass. Care to step up and volunteer?" He actually growled then. "And for your information, baby girl, I don’t need a playbook, it comes natural. Who's the arrogant one again?"

“How am I the arrogant one!?” She shouted defensively.

“Well,” Erik started counting off on his fingers, “You find every moment to announce how I’ve been chasing after you all this time. You do it as if you’ve been playing this game of making me wait—

She huffed, he sniffed.

"So, we’re gonna stand here and act like you haven’t been wanting a nigga for a while now? Come on, ma. I can see right through you. It sucks you gotta play games when I could have shown you some things.”

He sounded a bit sulky at that.

Emoni glanced at him sideways. Erik truly looked upset by her accusations, which told her more than his words ever could. Perhaps whatever had happened between them the night before hadn't been pre-planned by him, and he hadn't been responsible for her memory gaps, after all.

“Okay…so…nothing?” She questioned.

“Nothing—well…I can remember us dancing. I remember how I dragged you to the dance floor and we Had a ball,” Erik smirked at the fuzzy memory, “You were….all over me. It was definitely the drinks because you would never do no shit like that sober, but…your ex was PISSED. We shared a drink…”

Erik blinked rapidly a few times then his thick, unruly brows snapped together. He drew a blank.

“That’s…wow—that’s exactly what I remember last as well…what the fuck?”

“Weird, right?” Erik said.

Which left Emoni wondering how in hell it was she could ever have forgotten making love to him, because that had been an event she'd ached for and dreamed of for years. That she couldn't remember anything significant at all in the aftermath was not just a maddening mystery, but also terribly disappointing to her as well. With his own memory of the night apparently lost, too, now she'd never be able to know how it had been between them. Had they connected body-to-body, soul-to-soul as she'd always fantasized, or had it been merely about sating sexual hungers and agreeing to move on? That knowledge was lost forever, it seemed, and that made her heavyhearted.

Clearing her throat, she figured she might as well attempt some civility, since he didn't appear to be at fault, if she was properly reading the signs.

“Right. So...what now?"

He shrugged. "We go back to bed."

She tightened the sheets around her with a twist of her hand, unsure if that idea wasn't the worst one in the history of co-worker one-offs and deserved an argument or if she should just give into the temptation and make a whole new set of epic mistakes today with Erik—this time, memorable ones. Decisions, decisions...

"And why would we do that?" she asked, trying to buy herself some time to come up with a third alternative.

Erik frowned at that. "To sleep. Maybe to fuck again later, once we're both more rested... Why are you so skittish all of the sudden?”

Because you're gloriously naked and suck-able, she thought, and I really want to run my mouth all over you this instant.

"Because I'm understandably nervous right now," she said instead, feeling her palms grow slick with a feverish need to touch him.

As if he'd discarded her words in favour of listening in on her more honest thoughts and impulses instead, he rewarded her with a slow, wicked smile. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice thick with lusty insinuation.

He shifted then, and it took all of Emoni’s willpower to keep her eyes from drifting downwards to seek out the slight movement between his legs again. No way was she getting caught in that mesmerizing action twice.

“Yes, I just said," she reiterated, fanning herself with a hand and wondering if it were possible to spontaneously combust.

Noting her distress, Erik’s teasing waned. "Why?

A third alternative suddenly presented itself: rationally discussing the matter to death. That's what Emoni did best, after all. "Because regardless of the fact that we've each experienced a disturbing loss of memories of the last twelve or so hours, we're both cognizant that some level of physical intimacy passed between us last night," she pointed out, switching into 'professional mode'. "Our relationship, therefore, has evolved and requires us to come to some form of an agreement and an arrangement as to its future."

"Agreement? Arrangement?" He almost sounded offended, “You're starting to sound like a wife looking for a pre-nup, Moni." He jerked his chin towards her bellybutton, and the piercing that lay just beneath the sheets that covered it. "Was that diamond chandelier in your navel not enough for you? Or do you need a bigger declaration of my intentions? I suppose I can get you a ring for your finger to match, if you want.”

She tsked at him for joking at a time like this. "I'm talking about our working relationship, you asshole! What we did here last night...this is going to alter that dynamic, like it or not."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Why does it have to, though?”

Unbelievable! Could he not see that everything had changed?

Pushing off from the wall, he approached her, "It was about time it did, too! All this time trying to get your attention the old-fashioned way was getting me nowhere with you. Derek and Natalie were right—you needed me to act, not attempt to manipulate you into making the first move,” Reaching out, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I needed to change, my Emoni, or we were never getting here."

She rubbed at her achy temple. "Do you realise you always refer to me so possessively? Why do you do that? We're not even officially dating, but you talk about me as if I'm your significant other.” She argued.

The idea irritated her, because in truth, she'd wanted him to think of her in such a manner—had for a long time now—but Erik had always been impossible to pin down. Like a male butterfly, he'd always liked his freedom...and his women. Not that she'd been totally celibate over the years, but she couldn't boast near the number of partners he'd put to bed. And all along, even when he was with those other women, he'd shamelessly flirted with her, tossing out provocative innuendo or joking propositions that always ended in her scolding or itching to slap him, and invariably nursing a sore heart. It bothered her now that he would continue to play this game with her, especially as they'd obviously crossed a line last night.

"Where's my damn phone?" she asked, too tired to attempt looking for it.

Erik tore his eyes away from her and he scanned the room until he found her hand bag tossed on the floor beneath a lounge chair in his room. He took long strides to grab her bag and then he crossed over to her. He handed it to her and watched her open it, a relieved sigh escaping her mouth as she pulled it out. She checked the time and it was very late in the afternoon. No one had called her or texted. She went to her photos and there were over fifty pictures she’d taken.

She frowned at that. This could help.

"You're welcome," he said, looking at her.

"Oh, uh, thanks," she stammered after the fact, staring at her photo gallery, “But, um...I have a bunch of photos of us…do you?" She asked, "Is that karaoke?! Wait—a tattoo parlor?!!! Little White Chapel?!!! What the fuck?!"

Erik was silent for a long while in the face of that revelation, so she glanced up at him to find out why.

He was staring...no, glaring at her chest. The sheet had fallen and her titties were exposed. Deep brown areolas and thick, pointed nipples against tawny skin.

"Take that sheet off, Emoni," he demanded with a primal look in his eye, "Do it right now."

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year ago

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SUZUU!! HOW ARE U DOING!? I GOT A WONDERFUL REQUEST THAT IS BASED ON A DREAM I HAD!

CEO!Scaramouche x Wife!Reader NSFW!

Imagine Reader going to Scaramouche's Business Building to give him his Lunch since he forgot it, and what does Reader see? His Secretary giving her glares and looks that scream 'You took the love of my life away, stay away from him for your Own Good.'

So Reader goes to his Humongous Office, and complains about his Secretary so Scaramouche makes Reader sit on his lap to cockwarm him so she can shut that pretty little mouth of hers.

- What if the Secretary got in the office and saw it? I wanna see Reader being so whiny and mumbling nonsense as Scaramouche for being so Sensitive and getting fucked dumb as the Secretary is still watching.

Perhaps Scaramouche might put a baby inside his Wife's tummy since she's such a sweetheart and a fragile doll!! <3

CEO! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cock warming. Breeding kink. Degradation. Praise Wife reader.

a/n: Hello, dear❤️ You.. you oh my goodness, I love it when you drop asks in my inbox. Honestly, I'm a little jealous that I didn't have this dream instead 😭😳❤️. I hope you enjoy.

"Honestly, I don't know what your secretary doesn't understand, Scara," You said, setting the Bento box lunch that he'd forgotten that morning on his desk. Putting a hand on your hip, you glanced at Scaramouche's office door, and glared, rolling your eyes. "I know she sees the wedding ring on my finger, she looks like she wants to kill me every time she sees it."

Scaramouche sat back in his chair, giving you an amused look that made you want to slap him. His smirk was so smug. He thought looked so cute standing there, ranting away about his secretary.

"I don't know what you find so funny," You said, glancing at the papers on his desk. "Please tell me that's the paperwork you have to fill out to fire her."

Scaramouche made a come hither motion with his finger. "C'mere." His eyes followed you as you walked over to stand in front of him. "Take off your clothes," He instructed, unbuttoning his pants.

"W-what?" You stammered, your cheeks flushing when you saw him take his cock out.

"You heard me, take off your clothes. You are going to be a good little wife, and cock warm me while I finish looking over some paperwork," He replied, stroking his cock while he watched you remove your clothes.

Scaramouche's eyes darkened with lust when you pulled your panties off, greedily drinking in the sight of his precious, pretty wife, standing naked in his office, staring longingly at his cock.

Putting his hands on your hips, he guided you to straddle him, lowering you slowly onto his cock. He chuckled when you let out soft whines of pleasure, squirming in his lap when you felt the head of his cock rest up against your sweet spot. "Listen to you. You've barely been sitting on my cock, and already you sound like a whiny slut."

Scaramouche began his work, keeping one hand on your hip to hold you still. Everytime he finished signing something, he put the pen down and ruthlessly rubbed your clit.

You buried your face in his neck to muffle your moans. Every time you tried to move in his lap, he growled at you, his grip tightening on your hip, slamming his cock up inside of you to remind you of your place. "Stay still, and stop squirming, you pathetic slut, you are making it hard to concentrate."

He smacked his hand roughly against your clit, laughing when you cried out, struggling to move. "Look at you, you are shaking out of desperation. And you are so sensitive too," He pinched your clit, making your body twitch in response to the pleasure he was inflicting on your puffy, swollen clit.

"So delicate, and fragile. I have an idea," Scaramouche purred, lifting you off his cock, dropping you unceremoniously back onto it. "How about if I fuck a baby inside you," He put a hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb lovingly across it. "You'd like that, hm?"

"Uh-huh! Please, I need you fuck me, Scara. Fuck me raw and fill me with your cum," You moaned, dropping your head to rest on his shoulder. "Please.. please"

"Fuck--" He groaned, putting both of his hands on your hips. "Start bouncing, darling wife. The harder you fuck yourself onto my cock, the better my chances are of knocking you up."

"Thank you, thank you," You chanted like a mantra, arching your back as you rode him, making his office chair squeak. "Are you going to fire her? Please..I..I.." You trailed off, feeling your orgasm smack into you like a freight train, screaming his name as you squirted on his cock.

Panting, you rested your forehead against Scaramouche's, nuzzling it against his as you came down from your high, only noticing just now that his cum was leaking from your abused hole. It dripped down between your legs and onto his office chair.

"Of course I will. I'll fire her after I let you in on a little secret," His glinted with mischief, kissing you softly.

"What is it?" You whispered, licking submissively at his mouth.

"My now former secretary was watching us the entire time through the window. She got a front row seat while I fucked you senseless." Scaramouche smirked at you before he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #au #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n

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chernabogs · 1 month ago

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BERCEUSE

Inc: Meleanor, Raverne, Mallegg, Lilia, and Baby Silver Warnings: None WC: 1.3k Summary: Berceuse: A quiet song to lull a child to sleep (Promptober day 3)

She remembers it from her father. This fact often takes people by surprise when they first learn it. No one would have expected the former king consort, rest his soul, to be the type to hum lullabies to his daughter to soothe away nightmares—but he was. He was a calm man beneath the rough exterior of sea-born and battle crafted that he presented as. Softer, to balance out the typhoon that was her mother’s personality when it came to matters of ruling.

Meleanor remembers very little of her father beyond the lullaby. On occasion something will trigger a memory of him—a certain smell, or a certain sound—but the image of his face in her mind appears to be held under water. His features are ripples, his voice like a hymn, and the phantom touch of his hand holding her own is a weighted reminder of loss. Many people passed condolences to her mother when her father died, but they all seemed to forget the impact it had on her, as well. She remembers standing at her mother’s side during the pyrrhic burning of his corpse, humming the lullaby to herself, only to be silenced by a hand on her head.

It was the last time she had dared sing the song out loud until Malleus had been born. Despite still developing within his egg, he was a restless thing, constantly shifting and squirming and making the egg tremble in precarious positions. If he was born a live birth then one would have diagnosed him as ‘colic’—crying and fussing for reasons. Raverne had joked one time, when the egg had nearly fallen off of its perch from the movement of the baby within, that Malleus was swiftly developing a typhoon-like personality himself.

Despite smiling, Meleanor had seriously hoped her boy was more like his father then the temperamental Draconia line.

When Raverne disappears (not dead; she rebuked that notion) and she’s left to care for a war and a baby on her own, Malleus’ inability to remain still sends her to a near breaking point. It’s hard to divert your attention between making sure your nation doesn’t collapse and making sure your baby doesn’t crack his own egg open because he just has to get a move on. It’s in this borderline breakdown she’s having (in private, mind you) that she returns to it. She hadn’t forgotten the song over the years, but it had become a taboo to her, to consider forming the sounds with her voice once more.

But for Malleus—for the warm evidence of life and of love that she cradles—it’s a taboo that she’s willing to break. When she begins to hum the song in a voice that’s shaky from disuse and slightly out of tune, the movements she feels beneath the fragile shell exterior began to still, and the outline she can see of her precious son seem to settle in a fetal position. If she was to consider it, she’d say that he’s fallen asleep in her arms at the sound.

She becomes bold in its use after that. Alone in the throne room or before an audience of her court, if it serves as a means to comfort her baby, then she will use it. She won’t allow him to feel as cold and as forgotten as she had when she stood before that pyrrhic marker of an end. When the war escalates, she sings it. When the Silver Owls surround Wild Rose, she sings it. When the feeling of a blade cutting through the scales upon her breast drags her world to darkness, she sings it.

A lullaby to soothe a son. A swan song to herald an end.

_______________________________

He knew it from her. Lilia had spent many hours in the company of the royal couple before the picturesque life they lived was shattered, and in doing so he had been privy to many things. An engagement, a wedding, and the delicate bond between a mother and her son.

He used to scoff at that bond. His lip would curl whenever his future of babysitting was brought up in discussion, drawing amused teasing from Raverne at the notion of ‘Uncle Lilia’—a title he would vehemently deny. He used to tell himself that he would never bring a child of his blood in the world, that there would never be a baby in his arms, and that there would be no ‘uncle’ for the future prince.

He kept most of those intentions true. He never did bring forth a child of his blood, and he certainly was not carrying any ‘uncle’ title at the moment—another five-letter word beginning with ‘e’ and ending with ‘e’ serves in its place.

He did, however, misjudge the second intention.

Red faced and fussy, Silver is making it abundantly clear that he’s not to be disregarded in the moment. He’s wailing, and crying, and his pudgy cheeks are wet with tears as he refuses to be put down for the night. Lilia has probably paced around the kitchen for almost an hour at this point patting Silvers back, and kissing those cheeks, and speaking in the most soothing tone he can muster while trying to refrain from breaking down himself.

Lilia had never expected to come to love the little guy, but he knows it to be true by the way his heart is aching the more he sees Silver in such an upset.

“Please, please,” he whispers softly, kissing Silver’s forehead again as the baby’s voice increased in volume. “Shh, you’re okay, little one. It’s all going to be okay. I’m right here.”

‘Colic’ is a term he read in a human parenting guide. The book defines it as the state in which a perfectly healthy baby cries for no reason beyond just apparently wanting to. Mind you, Lilia has gone through the checklist to make sure there isn’t actually something wrong. Silver was fed, had his position changed, was rocked, and was bathed. Lilia had shown him pictures and rubbed his back and even floated in the air with him for a while to see if that would work. He had tried a pacifier, and a baby swing, and all of the cuddles Silver could possibly need. Hell, he had even reached out to Baul, who was just as lost as he was on what to do.

Silver, it seems, just likes to make his feelings known.

“You are my sunshine… oh for fucks—fudge—sake,” Lilia sighs, looking up to the ceiling as he continues to bounce Silver gently. His exhausted mind scrambles for any other solutions that might be at his disposal until a memory finally resurfaces. It’s distorted, as though held under water, but the sound of it is as clear as day. In his final attempt to put his baby and his heart at ease, Lilia shifts to hold Silver just a touch closer, and begins to hum a song he had long hoped to forget.

At first, Silver doesn’t buy it. He continues to cry and fuss in his fathers’ arms—until finally his auroral eyes open, still brimming with tears, and he looks up at the other in interest. His wails die down to the softest sniffles, his pudgy hands stop waving in the air, and he simply looks curious for a while. Lilia continues to hum and to rock his boy until Silver’s apparent ability to fall asleep with ease returns, and the baby goes from a typhoon of emotion to a picturesque infant.

Lilia’s breath leaves him slowly as he presses another kiss to Silver’s brow and sends a silent word of thanks to the stars. In his mind, he can see Meleanor and Raverne’s smug expressions at the sight of this as Lilia carries Silver back to his crib.

A swan song to herald an end. A lullaby to soothe a son.

#lilia vanrouge #twst silver #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst lilia #meleanor draconia #raverne draconia #twst fanfiction #promptober #lilia and baby silver moments live in my head rent free fr....

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lottiesboy · 18 days ago

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take your baby to work day!!

pairing: cg!melissa schemmenti x fem!little!reader

summary: it’s a teacher’s work day, so melissa brings you to work with her.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!melissa, reader regressed to 2-4 years old, melissa’s friends being nice to you :33

for @criblovr's fic trade :3

“ready to go, bambi?” melissa buckled your seatbelt. you nodded, smiling as you held your stuffie to your chest. “gonna go to mama job!”

“that’s right, baby girl!” she smiled back. the drive to the school wasn’t very long, melissa keeping you occupied with playing some of your favorite songs in the car.

it was a teacher’s work day at abbott, so there were no kids there, just teachers. and you were regressed, so melissa thought it was the perfect day to finally take you to work with her.

you were actually really shy about meeting melissa’s coworkers, but she reassured you that they’re gonna be super nice to you. you held onto melissa as she talked to barbara, hiding behind her.

“and who’s this?” barbara smiled. melissa rubbed your back. “don’t be shy, sweets. you know barb, right?” you nodded, waving politely. you’ve hung out with melissa’s co-workers when you were big, so you were a little nervous for them to see you little.

“hi, sweetheart. are you excited to hang out with your mama today? i bet you are.” barbara talked to you just how she talked to her students. she thought it was adorable how clingy you were towards melissa.

after melissa talked with barbara a little more, the two of you walked to her classroom. “mama class pretty.” she let you sit at her desk, smiling at you spinning around in her chair.

“i’m glad you like it, bambina. you wanna help mama with some work?” you nodded, melissa giving you some worksheets to sort for her students.

after you two were done, it was time for lunch. melissa grabbed your lunch bags off her desk and walked to the teacher’s lounge. the whole gang was there talking about god knows what.

“oh, hey melissa!” janine smiled. “and, hey little one.” janine waived at you and you shyly waived back. “you’re so shy, bambi. it’s okay. mama’s friends are nice, right?” you nodded, letting melissa unzip your lunch bags and pull out your food.

“eat your sandwich, baby girl.” she encouraged. your little self began to warm up melissa’s friends, you and janine talking up a storm.

“looks like my little chatterbox found someone to get along with.” melissa smiled. “wait, where’s ava? isn’t she supposed to be here?” jacob turned around, confused.

“apparently, she took today off because this is a teacher’s work day, not a principal’s work day.” gregory sipped his coffee while others groaned and some laughed.

after you finished your food, you tugged on melissa’s sleeve. “what’s up, baby girl?”

“candy, mama.” you pointed at the vending machine. seeing that ate all your food like a big girl, she gave you a couple dollars and let you walk up to the machine.

you put the dollars in all by yourself but you had some trouble picking what you wanted. melissa looked back, seeing how adorably deep into thought you were.

you pressed the button for your candy bar, tapping your feet as you waited for it to fall down the slot, but it got stuck. you whined, tearing up because you didn’t get your special treat.

melissa went to comfort you, but gregory swooped in before you started crying. “hold on. it’s okay.” he reassured you before shaking the machine a little. he shook the machine with all his might until your candy bar finally dropped down.

you squealed and grabbed your treat happily, your tears forgotten. “what do you say to gregory, bambi?” melissa smiled. “thank you.” you smiled shyly, gregory smiling back and giving you a pat on the head.

you sat in melissa’s lap now, eating your candy and kicking your feet a little. you had gotten the chocolate all over your face and hands, making melissa clean your face with a baby wipe. barbara watched the entire scene play out in front of her, thinking it was the most precious thing.

soon, it was time to go home and time for your nap. you sleepily waved goodbye to everyone, whining for melissa to pick you up. “you had fun today, sleepy girl?” she rubbed your back, feeling you nod against her shoulder. when she got to her car, she put you in and strapped your seatbelt.

“oh my goodness,,, mama’s got the sleepiest little girl in the world in her car, huh?” melissa watched as you cuddled your stuffie and your little eyes fluttered shut, falling asleep as soon as melissa left the parking lot.

#age regression #sfw agere #age regression sfw #sfw regression #age regressor #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #abbott elementary agere #agere #mine

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piratefishmama · 2 years ago

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Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 1

Steve wished he could say that that particular moment in his life hadn’t irreparably changed it, worsened it, he wished he could say that who he was, the whole of him, that part of him he now buried deep, deep down, that burying it didn’t cause problems.

Of course, it did. The chain reaction of it caused more problems than anyone could have ever expected. He wasn’t the same after that day.

Nothing in his life was the same after that day.

His mother tried, gods she tried so very hard to get him to open up, to try and get him to talk about what had upset him so much but… it was wrong. It was gross. He was gross.

His parents had always been clean and tidy, always priding themselves on their appearances, he couldn’t be seen being gross why… why did they let him just… keep doing that? Why would they let him keep making them look bad?

Why would they let him make himself look bad?

They should have known it was wrong, right? They should have known it was bad! They should have… they should have told him, but… they didn’t. They set him up for heartbreak, for humiliation, for pain, and he hated them for it.

He pulled away from his parents. And they, baffled as to why, were unable to keep him from withdrawing, were left with a mere shell of the bright little star-kissed boy they’d brought into the world.

Talking to him became difficult, he didn’t talk about his crushes anymore, he didn’t talk about anything to them anymore.

His new friends, Tommy, and Carol, they were… an interesting pair, but… their little boy had friends, so the Harringtons tolerated them, even when they convinced their little boy to go after the sports teams, to sign up for basketball try-outs and swim team, even when Steve came home with a spot on both, seemingly proud of himself.

Lynda Harrington could see that something was missing. A bright spark, an ember that’d been slowly building, that’d been slowly growing larger and larger as he grew until she’d hoped it’d become a sun had been snuffed out by things unknown. Her baby wouldn’t speak to her like he used to, wouldn’t wear his cute little chef apron, or do ‘girl stuff’ like play dress up or help his mama with her makeup anymore, it was like, overnight, their son had been replaced with an imposter.

John Harrington hated it the most though. Struggled to keep himself in the house, made excuses to stay at work, unable to handle the fact that he could see his son reshaping himself into something he’d never been before, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He hated the sports teams, although the men who worked for him often congratulated him on having a star athlete for a son. He hated the people that came with them, the people his son claimed to be friends with, they were awful children, who grew into awful teenagers, the majority bullies, those bad influences gradually influencing their son into something his friends dubbed King Steve. A boy he and his wife no longer recognised.

A boy who threw parties at the house while his parents weren’t home, forced away on business trips they couldn’t get out of and couldn’t take him along with thanks to school, allowing them to come home to precious possessions smashed, beer cans littered around the house, around the pool, the stank of marijuana clinging to their soft furnishings.

His own wife now questioned their marriage, his faithfulness, all because she’d found a bra in their bedroom that didn’t belong to her, spoke to her friends about it before confronting him. All John could assume was that one of Steve’s little parties had included teens getting up to no good in the bedrooms.

Safe to say the entire closet of bed linens had been burned, new were bought immediately, and cameras were installed around the house. Lynda still didn’t trust him.

And then work picked up. John Harrington’s firm went global, their money increased tenfold, but so did the workload, and with Lynda no longer trusting him, she was always by his side, watching, waiting for a sign, any kind of hint, a scrap of infidelity to prove it to herself… John hadn’t ever so much as looked at another woman, how could he? He’d married his high school sweetheart and even through her paranoia, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

It meant Steve was alone more often as he grew older, but… John couldn’t spend too much time around his son anymore anyway, he wished he could. He wished he could sit his boy down, wished he could wrap him in his arms and tell him it was going to be okay, that whatever it was that’d done that damage so long ago, they’d face it, they’d deal with it, and they’d put it behind them.

It was too late. His son had grown up. His bright star of a little boy was gone and neither he, nor his wife, could get an answer out of him as to why. John never claimed that to be good parenting either, avoiding the problem, he knew he was taking the cowards way out, it ate at him more than he ever allowed show. That didn’t help their home life.

And then a young woman disappeared from their pool. The cameras around the house picked up nothing, the image flickering with static, showing the poor girl there one moment, then gone the next, no sign of where she’d gone between the brief flicker of static. The government had shown up and confiscated the tapes before the police could come by. Not that the police knew about the cameras.

They weren’t exactly obvious.

And Steve, for the first time in his life, came home with a girlfriend. And a face full of injuries. But a girlfriend! Something steady, something stable, with someone from a respectable family, someone with brains, someone with a good head on her shoulders, something that spontaneously combusted about a year later.

Disappointing, but the face full of injuries was more important. Even if Steve wouldn’t tell them about it.

Steve dropped the swimming team.

Then came Steve’s spectacularly bad grades in school leaving him graduating but going nowhere fast in terms of college. Then came John Harrington putting his foot down, demanding Steve get a job, he’d even grabbed a ‘We’re Hiring’ flyer from the new mall after he and Lynda had gone shopping the day before.

Then the mall fire. More bruises, this time scars. The nightmares that woke their son up, and them, in the middle of the night with his screaming that he’d never explain. This time eye doctors, otolaryngologists, their boy suffered a ruptured eardrum the doctor claimed would likely get worse with time, that he’d eventually need hearing aids, another concussion, he couldn’t get his son to explain where the blunt force trauma had come from, but John swore never to force his son into work again.

Steve still grabbed a new job with his new friend Robin at the local Family Video store. A glimmer of that ember they’d thought had died out, peeking through the cracks in the walls Steve had long since put up.

The Harringtons had been proud, for the first time in so very long, they’d been proud. Thrilled. They’d spent much longer in Hawkins after that, attempting to build bridges that’d long since been destroyed, before they’d had to go again, “There’s utter chaos in the London branch, Steve, we’ll send you money for groceries every week and don’t forget to water the plants! We should be home by the end of the month okay?”

Then came the serial killer.

The Earthquake.

Then, the phone call.

“Mom, just… just stay out of Hawkins okay, just… just stay on your business trip with dad, alright?” The line was crackly at best, Lynda on the phone from their hotel room in London, John close by, listening as best he could.

“Sweetheart we saw on the news, that girl, the Earthqua—”

“Yeah, yeah mom, it’s… it’s bad here, look just stay there. Wherever you are right now, just stay there until I call again, alright? Just don’t come home. I’ll stay in touch as best I can okay? Just sta—”

“Steve? Steve?! Steve!!” Lynda pulled the phone away from her ear, the steady beep of a call disconnected going off from the speaker. Her panicked gaze turning from the handset to her husband “John!”

“Give me the phone, I’m getting us home.”

He wasn’t able to get them home. Not all the way. Hawkins was locked down solid. They got as close as six miles away, holed up in a motel close enough to see the plumes of black, billowing up into the skies above filled with angry red lights flashing intermittently like lightning, as if a volcano had erupted and the pyroclastic flow just wouldn’t stop, helicopters circled the town daily but reports never made it out of the little town.

They heard nothing for weeks, for months. There was no news on Hawkins anywhere on the channels, it was as though the place had vanished from the face of the Earth despite constant surveillance, but they watched from a hill high enough to see the town in the distance.

They watched it every single day, a radio on, the TV on, waiting for news, waiting for something, anything. Months turned into a year, in that time the Harringtons moved their things from the motel into a town a few miles further south, renting a modest two bed there, watching the smoke, waiting for a call, for anything to say their son was okay.

Anything to say that he was alive.

A year turned into two. Arguments led to tears, led to apologies, led to promises that if, if he were alive in there, they’d try harder, they’d figure it out. They’d get their little boy back, the one that loved freely, openly, the one that talked to them, the one that played house, played dress up with his mom, who cooked with his little apron on, they’d get their little boy back no matter what it took.

That they wouldnt stop hoping until news came to tell them he was gone.

And then just like that. The smoke disappeared. Swallowed up, gone. The skies slowly cleared above a dead Hawkins, revealing shrivelled trees, a horrorscape of a place that looked as though it'd been left to rot decades ago.

Lynda’s incredibly expensive mobile phone rang.

“…Mom?”

Part 3

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication

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henrycangelbaby · 3 months ago

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In which: Ellie allowed herself to be held for a second. The only sounds were their soft breaths and Joel’s light snoring. She felt silly asking it, as if she were still a toddler. Then again, she hadn’t had much comfort even in her toddler days. Ellie let out an exhale.

Ellie seeks comfort in those who love her the most.

Things are finally good for Joel. He and Ellie have been settled down in Jackson for a while now. They no longer have to fight to survive. Ellie can attend school and has made quick work of befriending many kids her age. They were finally happy.

Joel had even found himself a few friends; he had his brother in close proximity, was friendly with the neighbors, and cracked a smile whenever Ellie brought a friend over for dinner. And there was also Y/N, his precious darling girl.

Truthfully, Joel had never considered the prospect of settling down again. He had lost far too much to ever consider being truly happy again, but then he had found Ellie, been reunited with his brother and his new family, and then he had met Y/N.

She had come into his life rather unexpectedly, the prettiest thing he had seen in many years. He was only just settling down in Jackson when they had met. She was a little younger than him and had been so kind that he had been rather turned away at first, but with time (and quite a bit of Ellie meddling), they had grown close and eventually fallen in love.

It had been subtle, but people had noticed. He had been caught more than once wearing a hair tie around his wrist, and gradually her things had shown up in his and Ellie's house. Ellie isn't sure of much, but she doesn't even bother hiding her laugh when he walks downstairs in a slightly too-small, very faded Spice Girls t-shirt that his soft stomach peeks out of the bottom of. (Y/N also makes sure that Joel knows how much she appreciated him accidentally putting on her shirt that morning, but her and Ellie have very different reasons for thinking of his soft tummy).

For the first time in what felt like forever, he was happy and carefree. He still took patrols, but they seemed rather dull in comparison to the life he had lived outside of Jackson's protection. They were also fewer and further between as he reluctantly felt the effects of his age and life on the run. They had caught up to him rather brutally in the form of dodgy knees and full deafness in his left ear. For the first time since the outbreak, he felt at peace with the world.

Ellie had settled down well; it wasn't like she was a feral kid, raised by herself having to fight to survive. She had been raised in a school, had friends, and was educated to a somewhat proper level, but Jackson had been good for her. She was glowing with happiness most of the time, running around with her friends and even (much to Joel's dismay) girlfriends.

She had taken to Y/N instantly; they were both charmers in their own way, and Ellie had all but been swept off her feet by his darling’s kindness. Y/N, in return, had taken to the kid. The quick sense of humor and chatty nature in Ellie had caused Y/N to often joke about Ellie being better company than Joel. Truthfully, they did get along very well; he would find them bent over a puzzle on the kitchen table or wreaking havoc while cooking in the kitchen.

Ellie was getting older; she needed Joel and Y/N less, but she still found time to hang out with them. If it made his heart ache when they had family dinner together, or when he would come home from his depleting patrols to find Y/N and Ellie accidentally fallen asleep on the couch together, movie night long forgotten, it had been like this for years now, and it still made him emotional.

The sun had all but retreated behind the clouds, Joel barely awake as he peered out of the corner of his eye at his baby. Y/N seemed to be in a similar position to him, her head dropping slightly onto his arm, rubbing her eyes as if to try and run the sleep away.

“Darlin’,” she hums in response, turning to face him.

“Let's go to bed, baby,” he offers her his hand, pulling them up. She holds onto his arm, walking next to him as they sleepily made their way to bed together.

“Is Ellie still up?” Y/N asks, sitting on the toilet, waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth.

“She’s out, told us not to wait up for her, baby.”

God, he was getting old, having to go to bed early while his teenage daughter stays out too late for him to wait up for her. Ellie was hardly a teenager anymore; she was technically an adult, but he still felt as if she was a little girl.

They fall asleep quickly, as they always do. Joel is very secretly the small spoon. He sleeps peacefully with his back pressed against her chest, one of her legs in between his, her arm thrown over his stomach.

Ellie gets in late. She creeps through the house, well aware that Joel and Y/N have probably long gone to sleep. If she wasn't feeling so sullen, she might giggle at the old-people-ness of the adults in her life. Perhaps she had stayed up a little too late, past the point of late-night fun, into existential dread territory.

Everything is fine for Ellie. In fact, things are great in Jackson: a family that she can finally call hers, friends, and even dating prospects. Most of the time, Ellie is fine—she is more than fine, thriving even. Going out with her friends late into the evening, it was nice to be able to mess around with no repercussions.

But maybe she should have called it off this evening. She hadn't felt great all day, anxiety and dread settling at the bottom of her stomach and putting her off eating. She had learned to deal with it, mostly. The terrors she had seen in her past were just that—in her past. She would never have to fight again, never have to kill again; she was safe.

She was rather embarrassed to repeat those words over and over again to herself as she moved quietly through the house. She heard it in Y/N's soft tone, as she had once repeated it to Ellie after a bad panic attack. Ellie was safe, here in this house, with two people who cared about her like no one else did, in this town with all her friends, protected by the heavy walls and forever ongoing patrol shifts.

She was safe.

She tried to convince herself, unsuccessfully, as she fell into an uneasy sleep.

She wakes with a gasp. Her bed sheets feel far too suffocating; there is sweat dripping down her back, and as she brings a hand up to her face, it feels wet with tears. She doesn't remember what happened, but her heart won't stop beating fast, and the tears won't stop flowing down her face. She feels dizzy, like she might throw up.

Night terrors aren't unusual to Ellie. She has had her fair share of trauma to make up bad dreams. They had been bad when she was younger, in the beginning of her time in Jackson. She would often wake up crying and sweating, or she wouldn't sleep at all, kept awake by her haunting memories.

But as she, Joel, and eventually Y/N had settled down into their new life, they had become less and less frequent. Ellie’s life was going well, and most of the time she could escape her mental health problems. They came back to haunt her occasionally in the form of nightmares or panic attacks.

She had confessed to Y/N one night about how scared she felt sometimes, at the time confiding in Joel’s rather new girlfriend her problems and fears, which she felt too scared to tell Joel about. Perhaps she had secretly longed for the comfort that Y/N had given her, when she had been held close to the older woman’s chest, a kiss on the head as she slowly rocked Ellie back and forth.

Ellie loved Joel incessantly, but the introduction of Y/N into her life had filled a hole in her heart that she hadn't known she had.

She pushed herself up from the bed, quickly making her way to the other bedroom, where Joel and Y/N had resided for the night. The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open. It was rather comforting to see the room as it always was. The moonlight peeked through the window, revealing the messy bedside table and the photo of the three of them tacked above the bed.

Everything was the same, everything was fine. Ellie squinted in the darkness to see Y/N closest to her, her back facing the girl, her arm thrown over a much broader back and waist. She felt somewhat bad for waking her. She didn't want to scare her too badly. Y/N wasn't quite as switched on as Joel (Ellie still giggles thinking about how bad Joel had felt after he had cornered her against a wall—it had not been her best idea to stand behind a door to scare him).

She coughs awkwardly before shaking Y/N gently.

“Y/N?” she whisper-yells urgently. “Please, Y/N, wake up.”

Y/N turns around slowly. “Hmmm?” She rubs her eyes, still basically asleep, until Ellie nudges her again.

“Joel?” Y/N murmurs. She jumps slightly when she opens her eyes, scared by Ellie’s face so close to hers.

“Fuck,” she breathes, putting a hand on her chest as she pulls herself up. “Ellie, honey, what's wrong?” she asks, immediately alarmed by Ellie’s late-night appearance.

Ellie can't help as the tears begin to leak out of her eyes again. She tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Oh, my baby,” Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tears quickly. “Come here,” she says, while pulling Ellie up to sit beside her on the now somewhat squishy bed.

“I had a nightmare,” Ellie confesses quickly. She feels Y/N pull her in even closer.

“Was it bad?”

Ellie could only nod in response as she felt Y/N stroke her hair gently. “I’m sorry, baby,” was all Y/N said for a moment. After a beat, she spoke again. “I’d offer for Joel to go scare away the monsters under the bed for you, but I think you might be a bit old for that.”

It caused Ellie to let out a watery chuckle. “And also, I don't feel like waking Mr. Grizzly Bear tonight,” Y/N joked. They were silly, but they made Ellie smile.

Ellie allowed herself to be held for a second. The only sounds were their soft breaths and Joel’s light snoring. She felt silly asking it, as if she were still a toddler. Then again, she hadn’t had much comfort even in her toddler days. Ellie let out an exhale.

“Can I sleep in here, with you?”

She hadn’t expected to be laughed at, per se, but it felt like a silly request to be making nonetheless. But Y/N answered quickly.

“Of course, honey,” she said as she quietly pulled them both down to lay back down.

It was certainly a bit more of a squeeze with three of them, but she felt so warm and loved. Pulled close to Y/N, able to hear Joel’s snores close by, her nightmare felt like a thing of the past for a moment. So surrounded by comfort and love, perhaps everything she had suffered through had all been worth it if it led up to this moment, so loved by the best family she could ask for.

Joel's alarm went off at 6 a.m. sharp, just as he had set it to (much to his dismay). He was quick to turn it off, not wanting to wake Y/N—she didn’t deserve to be punished for his rather early patrol duty. He sat up slowly, feeling his neck creak. There was a pain in the bottom of his back that he couldn’t quite place, and his arm had gone somewhat numb in the night.

Fuck, he was getting old.

As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he peered around the room. There was little light creeping in through the windows, and Y/N was still peacefully sleeping next to him. He smiled slightly before leaning to get out of the bed with as little disturbance as possible.

He pulled himself off the bed as quietly as he could until he hit another body. Wait, what? He flinched for a moment before recognizing the face of his other family member that lived in this house. Now when had she gotten in here? She was sleeping peacefully under Y/N’s arm, much like he did most nights. Come to think of it, he had been a little colder than usual last night.

He climbed carefully over both of them, not wanting to wake their peaceful sleeping states. His heart felt so full as he peered down at his girls, so sweet and lovely. He pushed Ellie’s fringe off her forehead, leaning down to kiss her forehead lightly.

“Love you, babygirl.”

He moved to hover over Y/N now, gently cupping her face in his hands before leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth and then her lovely lips.

“Love you so much, baby.”

He was whispering to himself, but it was still true. He loved his girls so much; his chest felt like it was aching with the love. He willed himself to walk away—he had to get to work, and he couldn’t spend all day fawning over his family. With one final glance back, he closed the door behind him, wanting his loves to get as much rest as possible.

He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He had everything he needed, and it just so happened to be sleeping in his bed. His loves, his girls, his family.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie willams x platonic!reader #tlou part 2 #the last of us #mae writes 💞#x reader #one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #deadpool and wolverine

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