#this was supposed to be one of my days off posting- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aesthetically-dying101 · 19 hours ago

Text

Wifed up

A/N: im trying this type of thing out, but what happens if the JJk men saw you without your wedding ring? (tbf, im sure this has been done by others before, i sure as hell aren't the first to write this, won't be the last.)im genuinely so scared of posting this lmfao, okay but anyways

Characters: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, Shiu. (in said order)

Nanami:

Nanami almost got whiplash when he noticed the ring—your wedding ring, for heaven’s sake—wasn’t on your finger.

But when he stepped through the door of your shared home, grocery bags in one hand, jacket slung over his arm, and caught sight of your bare hand…well, he nearly dropped the tomatoes.

It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions—he prided himself on logic, on maturity. But standing in the doorway of your shared home, the scent of vanilla and butter wafting through the air, his heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons. He could see you through the archway leading into the kitchen, flour dusting your forearms, a faint smear of chocolate on your cheek.

You looked radiant, as always. But the empty space on your left hand? That detail stood out sharper than a curse in a crowd.

Nanami’s mind, traitorous for the first time in years, whispered an awful thought: Was she hiding it? Why? What if she’s inviting someone else over while I’m at work?

He hated the thought. Hated that it even crossed his mind. But he was only human—humans with hearts could be irrational, especially when they cared so deeply.

The seconds stretched, but his mind was already racing. His rational side kicked in almost immediately, reminding him that you were probably just taking it off while baking—something harmless, right? You’ve always done that. It’s just a ring.

But... It had been a conversation in the office that kept nagging at him all week. His coworker—someone he’d known for years—had just found out that his wife of ten years had been cheating on him. The betrayal had rocked him to his core, and for the last few days, Nanami had been wondering how something like that could happen. His mind lingered on the idea that a partner could hide something so big, and the doubt, for just a second, crawled into his own relationship. What if you were hiding it too?

He shook his head. Get a grip, Kento. Still, he couldn’t quite quell the question lingering at the edge of his thoughts.

“Y/N,” he called softly, stepping closer.

You turned, a bright smile lighting up your face.

“You’re home early!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I am,” he replied, voice steady, though his sharp eyes didn’t miss the bare ring finger you so casually flaunted. “Where’s your ring?”

Your eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, that!” You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I took it off while baking. Didn’t want to get dough all over it. It’s right over there.”

You pointed to the windowsill by the sink, where sure enough, both your engagement and wedding rings sat neatly side by side.

Relief flooded him so fast it almost made him dizzy. He nodded, keeping his tone light. “I see. I suppose I should’ve known you wouldn’t be that careless with it.”

“Careless?” You scoffed, playfully offended. “I’m meticulous, thank you very much.”

He smiled faintly, his heart settling back into its usual rhythm. You stepped closer, your grin turning mischievous. Before he could react, your flour-dusted hand slapped his backside with an audible smack.

Nanami froze, incredulous, as you dissolved into laughter.

“There,” you declared between giggles. “I marked my territory. Now wash your hands and help me.”

Nanami followed you after shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie. He slipped off his own wedding ring and set it carefully beside yours on the counter before rolling up his sleeves. For the next hour, the two of you moved seamlessly, kneading dough and rolling croissants together. The air filled with the warmth of the oven and the soft melody of your laughter.

By the time the pastries were golden and flaky, Nanami leaned against the counter, his hand resting on your lower back. The soft touch quickly turned into something more as his lips brushed your temple, then your cheek. You turned to meet him halfway, mouths molding together in a kiss that deepened quickly, his hands firm against your waist.

Nanami’s lips were warm and urgent against yours, every brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, once gently resting on your waist, now gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your body aligned in all the right ways.

You could feel the heat building between you, your chest pressed against his as your hands worked on the button of his shirt with determination, your fingers fumbling only slightly as you pushed him further against the counter. He groaned against your lips when you tugged at his tie, undoing it with quick, practiced movements.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased, his voice low and rough, but the words disappeared as your lips traced the edge of his jaw-his perfect jaw, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I’ve been waiting all day,” you murmured, hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants. His breath hitched when you unbuckled his belt and slid your hand inside, brushing against him with the kind of intention that made him gasp, his body instinctively bucking into your touch.

You grinned against his skin, the heat of the moment clouding your mind. This wasn’t just about passion—it was about claiming him, showing him with every touch that he was the only one. You slid your hand lower, your fingers grazing him with a teasing pressure that made his breath quicken.

“You’re the only man I need, Nanami Kento,” you whispered, meeting his eyes as you pulled him closer, grinding your hips against his. The friction had your pulse racing, a primal need building in the pit of your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even tighter against him as he kissed you again, this time with a desperation that matched yours. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as his hands slipped under your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

The air was thick with heat, your body aching with want, when suddenly—

DING!

The oven timer went off.

You both froze.

The croissants.

“Oh no—!”

You shoved away from him with a frustrated gasp, already heading toward the kitchen, but not before you shot him a glance. “You’re so distracting!”

Nanami watched you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. His eyes darkened with amusement, and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"We'll finish this later, don't worry."

Gojo

Gojo’s feet dragged heavily as he entered the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound. The weight of the mission still hung over him—bones aching, mind buzzing with residual adrenaline.

He didn’t want to think about the cursed spirits he'd just fought or the cursed techniques he'd barely been able to avoid using in full force. All he wanted now, all he craved, was the soft familiarity of home.

And you.

His wife.

There you were—curled up on the couch, your form relaxed and peaceful, your face lit by the flickering light of the TV screen. It looked like you'd fallen asleep while watching something, your body sinking into the cushions, soft and beautiful.

But then—

His eyes narrowed.

His eyes immediately fell to your left hand.

Empty.

No wedding ring. No engagement band.

His heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The weight of exhaustion, the tightness in his chest, everything—it all vanished in the face of that empty ring finger. His mind instantly went blank, and then... panic.

Where the hell is it?

A thousand questions shot through his head at once, each one more suffocating than the last. His mouth went dry, and he stepped closer to you, his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense. You’d always worn your rings, no matter what.

During the mission he hadn't used his Six Eyes and scan everything in the house, to check on you, but.... He’d been distracted. Too focused on that cursed mission, on the job, on things he shouldn’t have let slip.

His eyes flicked back to your hand, that empty space where your ring should have been. His mind spiraled further into dark thoughts.

She... She took it off? But why?

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Was this the moment when everything changed? When you... left him?

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think.

Did she meet someone else?

His pulse quickened at the thought. He wanted to scream, to shout, but the silence around him felt suffocating. Every step closer to the couch felt like a thousand pounds pulling him down. He stopped in front of you, staring at your unconscious form, the way you seemed so... peaceful, like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

What the hell is going on?

It was almost like a switch had flipped inside him—like something deep within him, something raw and protective, had been triggered. His anger, his fear—it boiled over. It had to be something. She wasn’t just going to forget her rings.

His voice was low, rough, as he bent down close to you, his tone colder than he meant it to be.

"Hey," he said, almost a hiss. "What the fuck is going on?"

His heart clenched at the coldness of his own words, but his fear was all-consuming. He needed answers. Now.

You stirred, your eyelids fluttering open at the sound of his voice, but it was the confusion in your gaze that stopped him for a second. For just a moment, it was like the anger and fear drained out of him, replaced with a spike of guilt. This wasn’t the way to approach you. He wasn’t supposed to be... scaring you. But he couldn’t help it.

What if I’m losing her?

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry from sleep, but the panic in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

"Satoru...?" Your voice was soft, laced with that sweet, familiar confusion he loved. The panic in his eyes, the intensity in the way he stared down at you—it wasn’t the Gojo you were used to. He looked almost... unhinged.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you pushed yourself up slowly, feeling the exhaustion still clinging to your body. There was a fleeting second of fear that rose in you—this wasn’t how he usually acted.

What’s going on?

The man who had always been the first to laugh in the face of danger, the man who could break down any barrier with a joke or a smile, was now standing there—almost trembling. This was no playful teasing. No, there was something else in the way his body stiffened, the way his voice cracked with uncertainty.

His voice was a harsh, cold rasp as he bent down closer, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“What the fuck is going on?” He tried to keep his voice from trembling, "Where’s your ring?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Your hand instinctively went to your finger, but it was bare. You frowned. "Oh..." The fog of sleep was lifting now, and the look on his face was making your heart race.

But before you could even say anything else, Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened up, suddenly tense.

"I’m not playing games, [Y/N]." He could feel the anger bubbling up again, his breath coming faster. "What the hell is going on? You’ve been in this house, and now you’re not wearing it? Are you seriously gonna tell me it’s some accident?" He gestured wildly, his frustration impossible to hide.

You recoiled slightly, caught off guard by his tone. The fear in his voice, the desperation that edged every word, it hit you hard. He was scared.

But you could feel it, too. You could feel the rage he was hiding beneath his frustration, the doubt gnawing at him, the belief that something was wrong—that he wasn’t good enough to keep you.

The thought almost made you ache. You couldn’t believe he’d think that. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, so terrified that his wife had... what? Cheated on him?

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t—I didn’t take it off for any reason like that." You looked at him, trying to calm his rapid breath. "I was cleaning the bathroom earlier... with bleach. I didn’t want to risk damaging the rings, so I took them off and put them in a little dish in there while I worked. I... I must’ve forgotten to put them back on after I collapsed on the couch."

The explanation was so simple, so mundane, that Gojo felt an overwhelming rush of relief flood through him. He closed his eyes and sank back onto the couch, rubbing his face with both hands.

You were just tired.

You hadn’t been out with someone else. You hadn’t thrown away everything they’d built together.

His mind had created a monster out of nothing. He had jumped to conclusions because he was weak, scared of losing the only person who mattered. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, and yet, here he was, completely unraveling over the thought of you slipping away from him.

"God," he muttered, voice breaking slightly. "I thought you... I thought I wasn’t enough for you. That maybe you'd—"

"Stop," you cut him off, pulling him close with a soft tug on his shirt. You pressed your forehead to his chest, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "Don’t even think that, Satoru." You wrapped your arms around him, grounding him. "You’re my everything. I wouldn’t throw that away."

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his face buried in your hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Just the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, he cupped your face gently, his blue eyes searching yours with a mix of relief and affection. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Next time," he said softly, almost shyly, "just leave a note. Like, ‘I’m cleaning and definitely not inviting other men over,’ so I don’t go insane."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, I’ll do that."

Gojo pulled you back into his arms, this time much softer, as if the whole world could melt away in this moment. He could feel his heart finally steadying. You were here, you were safe. The rest of it didn’t matter.

He kissed the top of your head, whispering softly, "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

You looked up at him.

"Never scare me like that again."

You smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, and nodded.

"I promise."

Geto:

The last thing on your mind was the delicate gold band around your finger, the symbol of your marriage to Geto, which you had carefully removed so as not to get it covered in dirt.

Geto paced through the entrance, his brow furrowed with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. After being away on business for a few days, the first thing he was told upon his return was that something had happened with you—his wife—and that you weren’t wearing your wedding rings.

Before he could utter a word, one of his cult followers had nervously approached him, eyes wide with anxiety.

"Master Geto... We... we noticed the absence of her rings. The lady—"

"Where is she?" he snapped, his voice low, yet carrying an unsettling edge.

His follower hesitated for just a second before pointing toward the garden. "She's there, with your daughters."

Geto’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched his fists, a flood of emotions threatening to overtake him. Did you really... no, he refused to believe it. You couldn't be removing your rings over something so trivial.

He strode quickly, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. As he reached the garden, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There you were, kneeling on the soft earth, laughing as his daughters ran circles around you, their giggles filling the air. You were covered in dirt from working in the garden all day.

You glanced up and saw him standing there, eyes dark with unspoken words. He was staring at you with a strange intensity.

“Suguru,” you said, wiping dirt from your cheek, and then you noticed the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, hands gripping the edge of the stone wall with white-knuckled intensity. “What’s the matter?”

His gaze dropped to your bare fingers before snapping back to your face.

"Why are you not wearing your rings?" he asked, his tone colder than usual.

You blinked. The question caught you off guard, and a wave of amusement flooded over you.

“What?” you asked, incredulity mixed with humor. "I just didn’t want to get them dirty. I’ve been in the garden all day with the girls.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You think I care about that?" His voice rose a little, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand... how much it means to me—"

You stood up slowly, brushing your hands off and laughing softly. “Suguru, calm down. You’re acting like I’ve sold the rings for magic potions or something,” you teased, holding them out to him with a playful grin.

The sudden tension in the air seemed to break with your words. He stared at the rings, then back at you, his expression wavering between annoyance and relief. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or laugh at himself for overreacting.

But when you walked toward him, digging in your pocket, then placing the rings back on his hand with an amused smirk, he couldn’t help but release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting against the top of your head.

"I was worried, okay?" he muttered. "I've done so much for you, and I... I couldn’t figure out what was going on."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around him. "You’re a disaster sometimes, you know that?"

"I’m just... protective," he mumbled, his voice now laced with a touch of vulnerability.

"You’re sweet," you said, smiling up at him, "but a little too protective for your own good sometimes."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small, tender smile from forming on his lips.

“I can’t help it when it comes to you... And these,” he added, tapping the rings, “are more important than you realize.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing the edges of his rings.

"I know, Suguru. But I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t want to ruin them in the dirt. I still love you just as much."

His hands gently cupped your face as he gazed down at you. “I know. But if you ever take them off again, make sure I’m there when you do."

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to be the one to take them off for me?” you teased.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe I’ll start taking them off myself, then.”

You laughed, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. His arms tightened around you, the world outside of the garden fading into the background.

Your laugh echoed in the air, soft and sweet, as the tension between you melted into a comfortable warmth. Suguru leaned his forehead against yours, his breath a little ragged from the release of his worries.

"You're impossible, you know that?" you whispered, pressing your lips against his.

"Only when it comes to you," he replied softly, his smile genuine and fond. "But I love you anyway."

Toji:

It was a late afternoon when Toji returned home, exhausted but relieved to be done with another job. He stepped into the quiet apartment, the faint smell of Megumi’s favorite snacks still lingering in the air. It had been a good day for the boy, he’d told Toji earlier that he’d had fun at the park with you.

Toji was just about to toss his jacket aside and relax when something on the bathroom counter caught his eye. His wedding ring. But... not hers. Her band was sitting alone next to the sink, glinting in the dim light, empty.

His heart skipped a beat.

His stomach twisted. He couldn’t breathe for a second.

He picked up her ring, turning it over in his hands as if some answer would magically appear. But nothing came. The silence in the bathroom was suffocating, and his chest began to tighten as his mind spiraled into chaos.

She wouldn't... But the thought was there, like a seed growing inside him.

Shit. Not again.

It had happened once before—his ex, the woman who had broken his trust in ways that still haunted him. That memory burned his skin like acid as the anger surged through him. He could feel the old rage coming back, the bitterness of betrayal cutting deeper than ever before.

He paced in a circle, trying to make sense of it. His mind raced—had she really gone that far? Were they just another statistic, another couple destroyed by his own mistrust? He couldn’t imagine it. Not with her.

But there it was: the absence of her ring. What else was he supposed to think?

His hands trembled as he grabbed his phone, fists clenching around it as he typed out a text to Shiu: She’s gone. I fucking knew it. Packing. She’s been seeing someone else.

The words were harsh, but they felt right in the moment. The ring was gone, the reminder of what they had was now nothing but a cruel joke. He stormed into the bedroom, ripping open the closet doors. His mind was working too fast to think straight—he started shoving clothes into a bag, his chest tight. He should have never trusted her. Never allowed himself to be vulnerable.

He allowed her to become a stepmother to Megumi, let her get close to his son. And now, this. How could I be so stupid? he thought bitterly.

Toji’s blood boiled, and his mind spiraled further into the pit of grief and disbelief. He’d let his guard down, let her become a part of his life, a part of his family, and now this? He slammed a fist against the wall, shaking with fury.

An hour passed. He didn’t care. The world outside continued as usual, but in here, in his heart, everything was falling apart. He couldn’t do this again. He wasn’t going to let someone else ruin him.

Then, the sound of the door clicking open interrupted his spiral.

He turned, eyes wild, ready to unleash all of his pent-up rage.

And then he saw you. Megumi was holding your hand, looking at him confused, but his gaze didn’t linger long on the kid.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously, eyeing the half-packed bag by the door.

"Where the hell is your ring?" Toji's voice was low, laced with the venom he was trying to suppress. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down. "Where's your fucking wedding ring?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

Toji's glare didn’t soften, and he lifted her ring from the counter, letting it dangle between his fingers. "I thought we were past this bullshit. Thought you’d at least have the decency to—"

She deadpanned, and without a word, raised her hand to his face. His eyes followed her hand, expecting some gesture of defiance, some excuse. But then he froze, seeing the bandaged pinky and ring finger on her hand, the fabric wrapped tightly in place.

Her gaze was flat, her voice devoid of humor as she stated, “I didn’t want to lose my damn finger. It’s swollen, and I couldn’t take the risk of it getting worse. I thought you’d be worried about that.”

Toji stared at her hand, feeling the rage that had consumed him moments before start to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

“You—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He dropped her ring back onto the counter, as if the weight of it suddenly felt too much.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his head lowering, suddenly feeling like a fool. His fists unclenched, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes right now, but his voice cracked with regret. “I thought... I thought you were—”

"Cheating on you?" You finished the sentence for him with a quiet, amused tone, raising an eyebrow. You slowly walked over to him, your expression softening.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to hide the embarrassment in his voice. “I fucked up, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Toji... really? You thought I was gonna leave?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I’ll make you dinner, okay? Just... next time, try asking before packing your bags.”

He let out a defeated sigh, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, yeah. I overreacted. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You kissed him... which quickly turned into more, until:

"Ew."

You broke the kiss, laughing lightly.

Sukuna:

It was an ordinary day at the palace—at least, that’s what it seemed like. The sun streamed through the large paper windows, casting a soft light on the traditional tatami mats, where you were seated, diligently working on your calligraphy with Uraume. The brush glided over the paper as the delicate strokes formed beautiful characters, ink staining the tips of your fingers as you focused.

Your wedding ring, that simple yet precious band that bound you to the King of Curses, was nowhere to be seen. It was placed on the nearby wooden table to avoid smudging ink on its gleaming surface.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence.

"Where is it?"

The low, thunderous tone could only mean one thing: Sukuna was furious. His eyes—four of them—narrowed as they scanned you, focusing on your left hand where the ring should’ve been. His breath quickened as the pressure in the room thickened.

Uraume, sensing the tension, stepped back slowly, not daring to make a sound. You, however, remained seated, doing your best to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t help it—Sukuna? Jealous? Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

"What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, not lifting your gaze from the ink-stained paper.

"The ring, woman," Sukuna growled. "You know exactly what I mean. Where is it?" His voice shook with a barely contained fury as he approached.

You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him. The air around him crackled with murderous intent, but it was impossible to ignore the mix of frustration and… confusion? Ah, he didn’t know what to think, and that only made it funnier.

"I left it off for now," you replied casually, trying to mask your amusement. "I didn’t want to get ink on it while I was working with Uraume."

"Don’t lie," Sukuna hissed, his four arms crossing tightly in front of him. "You’re telling me you, a lowly human, can’t even remember where you left your precious wedding ring?" His voice was cutting, sharp as a blade.

You almost snorted, but you swallowed the laugh just in time. Oh, Sukuna really was something else when he was jealous. The sheer audacity of him to think you’d even remotely be unfaithful was beyond hilarious.

You stood up slowly, turning to face him as he loomed over you like an ominous cloud. His eyes were wild, like he was ready to destroy everything in his path.

"Is that why you’re so upset?" you teased, the corners of your mouth curling up. "You really think I would take off my ring to… go play around with someone else?"

Sukuna’s gaze flickered. His four arms twitched as if to lash out at you, but he held himself back. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"Don’t play with me," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

You couldn’t help yourself anymore. The laughter bubbled up inside you, and you laughed, covering your mouth as you did so. Sukuna stared at you, his eyes burning with confusion and fury. He looked like a king who’d just been betrayed, but somehow even more terrifying in that moment.

"Oh, come on," you teased further, walking up to him and standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "You didn’t seem to think I was a ‘lowly human’ a couple of days ago when you were pounding into me like a savage."

Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise, and his face turned a shade darker, his body stiffening with rage.

"Don’t you dare," he spat, his four arms reaching out and grabbing you by the waist with a force that would make most humans break. But you? You weren’t just any human. You were his human.

"And now you’re talking about it?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "You’re trying to make me look like a fool, huh?"

Despite his anger, you couldn’t suppress your grin.

"You’re the one who’s acting like a fool, Sukuna. Jealousy doesn’t suit you."

His eyes narrowed further, but he didn’t admit he was wrong. No, he wouldn’t do that. Instead, with one swift motion, he picked you up, his grip unyielding. His four arms surrounded you, holding you close.

"You’re lucky I don’t kill every single person in this palace for daring to let you out of my sight without that damn ring on your finger," he muttered through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The fact that Sukuna—the Sukuna—was losing his temper over something as trivial as a ring was almost too ridiculous. Almost.

"All this over a ring?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, still smiling. "Really, Sukuna? You almost killed everyone because I took off my ring for a couple of hours?"

He didn’t respond, but his grip tightened around you, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you toward your shared quarters. As he walked, you wrapped your arms around his neck, not able to stop the teasing smile on your face.

"You’re kind of cute when you're jealous, you know that?" you teased, nuzzling his neck lightly.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered to you, the hint of a growl rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. The king of curses was undeniably a jealous man, even if he refused to admit it.

And when he finally laid you down on the futon in your quarters, his hands were soft—almost gentle—as he placed a hand on your cheek, his expression still dark but… not as angry as before.

"I’m not going to let you out of my sight again," he murmured, eyes burning with possessiveness. "You’re mine."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "I’m yours," you whispered back.

And just like that, all the tension in the air seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together.

Shiu:

Shiu Kong was not a man prone to sentimental gestures or overt displays of affection. His love was quiet, steady, and often hidden beneath his sharp tongue and stern demeanor. But he was observant—painfully so. It was this keen eye for detail that had always served him well in his work. Today, however, it left him grappling with a tight knot of unease that coiled around his chest like a curse.

You hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring.

Shiu noticed it that morning when he passed you in the kitchen. You were distracted, bustling around with your usual energy, and when you handed him his coffee, his sharp eyes caught the faint, bare line on your finger.

No glint of the ring he’d placed there.

It wasn’t like you to forget something like that. Shiu wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the thought nagged at him throughout the day. The image of your bare hand replayed in his mind as he handled the paperwork on his desk, and when the hours dragged on, so did his thoughts.

Were you upset about something? Did the ring bother you? Or—no, that was ridiculous—was it deliberate?

His workday felt endless. By the time he stepped into the apartment, his shoulders were tight with tension. Shiu kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie, his heart heavier than he cared to admit.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, bright and cheerful. “You’re home! Dinner’s almost ready.”

He stepped into the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. But you knew him too well to miss the way his brow furrowed or the faint stiffness in his posture.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Shiu’s lips pressed into a thin line. He never shied away from confrontation, but this… he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Still, he was Shiu Kong, and hesitation wasn’t in his nature.

“You weren’t wearing your ring this morning,” he said bluntly, his voice even but laced with an edge of something vulnerable.

You blinked, startled, before looking down at your hand as if just realizing the absence yourself. “Oh!” You quickly held up both hands, palms open. “It’s not what you think. I took them to the jeweler to get cleaned today. I didn’t want to forget and leave them on, so I took them off last night.”

His gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he exhaled a slow, almost imperceptible breath. “That’s it?”

“Of course that’s it!” you said, laughing. “What, did you think I was mad at you or something?”

Shiu clicked his tongue, his usual deadpan expression returning, though the faintest flicker of relief danced in his eyes. “Tch. You could’ve mentioned it. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

You stepped closer, reaching for his hand and squeezing it with a warm smile. “Sorry, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

You winked and he grumbled something under his breath, but his fingers curled around yours, holding on just a little tighter than usual.

Later that night, when you slipped the ring back onto your finger and flashed it proudly at him, Shiu allowed himself the barest smirk. He didn’t say anything, of course, but the way his hand lingered on your back when he walked past spoke volumes.

Maybe he wasn’t the romantic type, but damn if he didn’t love seeing that ring on your finger.

A/N: oki so this was an attempt, i dunno if this is any good but hey, you live you learn

Masterlist

354 notes · View notes

monzabee · 18 hours ago

Text

run for the hills – lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: cursing, crying, drinking and mentions of alcohol, mentions of brocedes (rip), kissing, unprotected sex (you shouldn’t be surprised at this point), oral (m receiving), hand kink, praise kink, minors dni!!

Request: “hey, Merry Christmas 🫶🏽 I was hoping I could request a Lewis smut fic where the reader is Nico Rosberg's sister (with a age gap of around 6-8 years with him and Lewis) and before 2016 they were just really close friends who just kissed once but chose to pretend it didn't happen. after years, they run into each other at a club or a party and they're pretty snappy at each other but there's a lot of tension too and they end up having sex where Lewis is really cocky and also the reader has a hand kink and praise kink? I'm so sorry if I made it too long, i love your writing <33” + “oooo please could i request something w lewis?! something gut wrenchingly angsty? sorry i don’t really have a plot in mind hhhh thank you heheh”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, i started this fic last week and i honestly didn't think I'd finish it this quickly but here we are. don't let my words fool you, i got the request last christmas but if you know me then you know that i am not quick when it comes to working on requests (i'm working on this i promise), not that this fic is even remotely christmassy, but let’s just appreciate that it is supposed to be set during the holiday period lol. this was supposed to be a shorter one but here we are, lol, i'm not even surprised at my inability to keep things short at this point. i posted this fic and realised i forgot to copy and paste a big chunk of it so oh well. as always, feedback is appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Lewis decided he doesn’t like cold a long time ago. That’s why, being the ever-decisive person he is, he chooses to spend his winter vacationing in places like the Maldives or Bali. His decisiveness is an important part of him, given what he does for a living. When he is on the track, in his car, there is no room for hesitation – he needs to be able to make split-second decisions under intense pressure, what’s not to love about that? So, once he decided he’d rather spend his time off basking in the sun rather than freezing to death somewhere else, he never looked back. He enjoys spending his time off in someplace tropical with his family, or without his family; most of the times away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the media.

But this time, it’s different – he's alone.

Or rather, he thought he would be alone. The villa he rented out for the duration of the month is isolated, just how he likes it. He wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore right outside his windows, and the distant chirping of tropical birds to accompany him as he lounges on the large deck, overlooking the infinite expanse of blue. There are no spectators around to gauge his reaction, try to get him to speak out about his plans for the next year when he moves to Ferrari, or what he’s going to do when he eventually retires one day. He hasn’t seen anyone from the racing world for weeks, and it’s been a much-needed break. He’d usually love to spend Christmas with his family, the only time he would ever tolerate the cold being when he is with his family, but this year he just wanted to get away on his own.

There is no one around that expect anything from him. Just peace.

He’s not a hermit, of course, but he enjoys spending his time by himself mostly isolated from all the other guests of the touristic area he’s staying in. The chef that works at the villa is on call for when Lewis decides that he wants to stay in for the night, the housekeeping staff come every morning to clean up around the house, then promptly leave, providing Lewis with the privacy he so desperately needs. But other than that, and a few nights spent outside in a restaurant or a club? He is all alone, and he is not complaining about it. Another thing about Lewis Hamilton is that he doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in setting and achieving goals; after all, that’s what he’s done all his life. His success isn’t some cosmic coincidence. It’s years of sacrifice by his parents, relentless effort, and unwavering determination. So, when things happen that feel serendipitous, like running into someone from his past, he doesn’t chalk it up to destiny. He chalks it up to the sheer unpredictability of life.

And yet, as he steps out of the villa to head to a nearby beach club after dinner, he doesn’t expect to run into you, especially not after how the things ended last time, but there you are. His eyes find you at the bar with some guy next to you – he has to do a double take. Just to make sure, he tells himself. But no matter how many times his attention reverts to you, he knows it’s you. Of course, it’s you. Though he’s not a believer in fate or destiny, or whatever you might want to call it, there you are – dressed in a flowy linen dress. His first instinct is to ask the server to seat him somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have stare at you and your ‘date’ for the night. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens momentarily, and he exhales slowly, forcing himself to look away. This is not the moment, he tells himself. It’s not his business, not anymore. But still, his gaze drifts back to you. You’re laughing at something the guy says, your head tilted slightly as you sip from your drink. He can’t hear your laughter, no – but what a sound that would be to hear, he thinks for a moment.

He knows he shouldn’t care who you’re with or what you’re doing; it’s been years since the two of you shared anything beyond... well anything, really. But something about seeing you here, in this place he thought was his private retreat from the world, feels like a twist of fate – or the kind of cosmic joke he claims not to believe in. But his eyes watch you as you throw you head back in a laugh and he can practically hear the sound in his head, his mind taking him to years ago when he used to be one of the people who got to hear it first hand; when he joined your family on karting days, or when you celebrated with him when he won a race, or even back to that one time when him and Nico were trying to drive those unicycles and you kept doubling over in laughter when they fell down – something your brother did not appreciate, but Lewis couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you from the ground.

Somethings never change, he thinks, as he notices the smallest of smiles that has crept its way onto his face, quickly disappearing the moment he catches himself. He knows it shouldn’t matter to him – let alone bother him. But old habits die hard, and the sight of your smile, that easy laugh, stirs something in him that feels like both longing and a pang of annoyance. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin. Back then, it was teasing remarks that somehow felt more genuine than any praise he received elsewhere. He catches himself glancing your way again, his jaw tightening when the guy beside you leans in a little too close. It’s irrational, this surge of jealousy that claws at his chest. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but that doesn’t stop it from burning through him. He looks down at his drink, willing himself to focus on anything but you. But memories have a way of sneaking up on him, unbidden. The days spent at karting tracks, the shared dinners with your family, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Back then, it was easy. Natural. Like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, until you didn’t.

Just then, you glance over, your eyes scanning the room before they land on him. For a moment, everything stills. The laughter fades from your face, replaced by something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. His breath catches in his throat, and he curses himself for the way his chest tightens under your gaze. He watches as you excuse yourself, heading towards the restrooms, and he swears he has never gotten up so fast and walked so fast in his life. He doesn’t think, he just moves until he spots you in the hallway, queued behind some people waiting for the bathroom line. What kind of a club only has one bathroom? He thinks, but that’s not the point.

He clears his throat.

You turn, eyes widening in that familiar, guarded way. “Lewis.” Your lips open in shock as you glance behind him and then focus on him again, “Did- did you follow me here?”

“Were you on a date with that guy?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his voice colder than he expects.

You blink, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?”

He stands there, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the irritation from creeping up his spine. His gaze flickers to the bar behind him, where the guy you were with is still talking to the bartender, oblivious to what’s going on. “I asked if you were on a date,” he repeats, a little sharper this time as he emphasises the last word.

You raise an eyebrow, the surprise on your face melting into something more guarded, a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “What if I was?” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just out enjoying my night. Ever think of that?”

He feels a rush of heat in his chest. “It’s not like I care,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the edge in his voice that he does. “Just curious.”

You scoff, your lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Sure, Lewis.”

“So?” He inquires, “Are you? On a date with that guy, I mean.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “Are you serious right now?” you snap, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’re standing here, in the middle of a hallway, asking me about my love life? What is this, high school?”

Lewis feels the heat rise in his neck, irritation mixing with a sense of frustration he doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not asking for your life story, just... just an answer. Is it that hard?” His voice is tight, but he doesn’t back down.

You scoff again, your lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “You really think you can just waltz back in and start demanding answers like we’re still... You know what? Yes, Lewis, I’m on a date.” You throw a glance over your shoulder at the guy still sitting at the bar. “We met on the beach at the hotel I’m staying at, and I thought I’d let him treat me to a dinner and a couple of drinks before I’d let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.” You roll your eyes at someone on the queue gasping at your choice of words. “Not that it’s any of your business. Are you happy now?”

Lewis’s hand grips your wrist, a little too tight, and without warning, he’s tugging you away from the bar, his jaw clenched. “Come on,” he mutters, his tone low and urgent, as he steers you towards the back exit. You’re caught off guard, stumbling to keep up with his forceful pace, your heart hammering in your chest.

“What the hell, Lewis? Let go of me!” you snap, yanking your arm free once you're outside in the chill night air. The chill hits you like a slap, the heat of the club’s atmosphere fading behind you as the door slams shut.

“Seriously?” he spits, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’re gonna play it like that?”

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what game you're playing at, but I’m not interested. What the hell was that back there? Dragging me out like I’m some kind of... of property?”

He glares at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice rises, sharp and cutting. “I ask you a simple question, and you throw that crap at me? What the hell did you think I was supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like I didn’t care?”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pretend like you don’t care? That’s rich coming from you. You don’t get to just waltz in, after all this time, and act like you can demand answers, Lewis. Like you have any right to know what’s going on in my life.”

“Your brother would be so disappointed in you right now.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the air between you two freezes. The breeze picks up, but the sudden silence makes the world feel too loud.

“You don’t get to talk about my brother,” you seethe, as Lewis's face hardens, his jaw tensing, but it’s the look in his eyes that hits hardest — it’s a mixture of hurt and fury, both so raw, you almost feel sorry for what you’ve just unleashed.

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost dangerously so, the words slipping through clenched teeth.

You swallow, but it doesn’t help the sharp edge in your voice. “You heard me. You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to fuck up my life and you don’t get to come back here acting like you still have any claim on me or my life.” You’re breathing heavily now, the anger and hurt mixing into a bitter cocktail that you can’t quite swallow – funnily enough, Lewis can smell the cocktail you had earlier. “You left. You made your choice, Lewis. And now you don’t get to barge back in and pretend like I owe you anything.”

Lewis stands in front of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight as he processes your words. He doesn’t know when the two of you got closer together, he can practically feel the anger radiating off you, “You think I don’t know that?” he spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know what I did?” His voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability slipping out before he can stop it. “I fucked up, alright? I fucked up more than you’ll ever understand. We all did – me, Nico, you.”

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this, Lewis. You don’t get to act like I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Your voice shakes, but you keep going, the words coming faster, more bitter. “You kissed me and called it an ‘accident’, a fluke. You fought with Nico every chance you got. I had to pick up the pieces on my own.”

Lewis flinches at your words, but his anger doesn’t dissipate—if anything, it only sharpens. His hands remain balled into fists at his sides, but there’s something else behind his eyes now, something raw, something almost desperate. “We wouldn’t have worked out,” he mutters, it’s something that he said to himself time and time again to convince himself of it, “I am– was your brother’s friend, you–”

“You were my friend, too!” You exclaim, your hands swatting at his arms, chest – anywhere you can reach. “You left me, as if I meant nothing to you! You stole my first kiss and shattered my life to pieces on the same day!” You manage to get in some good hits despite Lewis’ attempts to calm you down, and the lump in your throat makes it harder for you to continue talking, “Do you know how many times I wondered if you kissed me just to piss Nico off? Do you know how that feels?”

“What?” He asks, his voice low. Each hit, each accusation, it stings. But nothing hits harder than the raw emotion in your eyes – hurt, betrayal, and the weight of everything he left behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. “You think I kissed you to get at Nico?” he says finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. There’s an edge of disbelief, of hurt, as if the idea itself cuts deeper than your accusations. “Do you really think so little of me?”

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, holding yourself together in the face of his raw honesty. “I don’t know what to think, Lewis. What was I supposed to think back then? You shut me out. You made me feel like it never happened – like I never happened.”

“You were twenty-three years old,” he points out, “our age difference–”

“Oh please,” you scoff, pushing at his chest one last time, “you’ve fucked girls younger than that.”

Lewis flinches at your words, as if they’ve struck a nerve he didn’t even know was exposed. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t get to throw that in my face,” he finally says, his voice low and clipped, tinged with a kind of frustration that feels different from before.

“Why?” You ask, head cocked to the side. “I can’t comment on you fucking other people, but you can question my actions because I want to fuck–”

“Say ��fuck’ one more time and I swear I’ll–”

“—what, Lewis?” you snap, cutting him off before he can finish his threat. “You’ll what? Walk away again? Pretend this conversation never happened, just like you did last time?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening as he tries to rein in his emotions. “Don’t push me,” he warns, his voice low and taut, but there’s no real menace in it—only desperation.

“Oh, I’m pushing?” You laugh bitterly, throwing your hands up. “I’m the one pushing? You’re the one who showed up here, dredging up every memory I’ve spent years trying to bury. Don’t you dare put this on me, Lewis.”

“You think this is easy for me?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You think I don’t hate myself for what I did? For what I didn’t do? I’ve lived with this every single day, and you—”

“Fuck you!” you shout, stepping closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck–”

His hands shoot up, grabbing your wrists – not harshly, but firmly enough to stop your movements. You don’t even fully register how quickly he pushes you against the wall, “You think I ran off and lived some perfect life?” he hisses, his face inches from yours as he inhales deeply. “You think I didn’t miss you every goddamn day? You think I didn’t lie awake at night, wishing I’d had the guts to ask you to stay?”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the rawness in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the anger in his eyes softens, replaced by something else – something that feels far too close to the hope you’ve been trying to suppress. “Well... yeah.” You inwardly cringe how your voice sounds so weak, but Lewis tilts your chin back to make you look at him.

“Is that so?” He mumbles, thumb caressing your chin as his eyes hungrily take in how your chest moves with each deep breath your inhale and exhale.

Your breath hitches as his thumb lingers, his gaze dropping to your lips like he’s fighting every instinct to close the distance between you. “Lewis...” you start, but his name comes out softer than you intend, more of a plea than the warning you meant it to be.

“What?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a softness to it, an undercurrent of vulnerability that sends your heart racing. “What do you want me to do, huh? Walk away again? Because I can’t. Not this time.”

You shake your head slightly, but his grip on your chin keeps you from fully looking away. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I don’t even know how to feel about you anymore.”

His eyes darken, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Then let me remind you,” he says, his voice a low rasp.

Your pulse quickens, every nerve in your body screaming at you to push him away – or pull him closer and he tension between you is suffocating. “Don’t,” you whisper, but your voice wavers, betraying the battle waging inside you.

“Don’t what?” he asks, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Don’t do this?” You don’t answer, your throat too tight, your mind too clouded with memories, anger, and something else you’re not ready to name. He waits, his breath mingling with yours, his patience stretching thin. “Say the word,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will let you go back and take him back to your room and do whatever you want.”

But you don’t say it. You can’t. Because as much as you hate him, as much as you want to scream at him, cry, and push him away... you also want this. Want him.

And Lewis knows it.

His hand releases your wrist, sliding down to your waist as his other hand stays on your chin, tilting your face toward him. The kiss that follows isn’t soft, isn’t sweet – it’s desperate, raw, and filled with years of unspoken words. It’s anger and longing, heartbreak, and desire, all crashing together in a way that steals your breath and sends your heart into overdrive. A softer kiss might have been what you wanted, but Lewis knows this is what you need. His body presses against yours, and your hands instinctively find his shoulders, clinging to him as if letting go would leave you falling apart. His lips are warm and insistent, the taste of him intoxicating. Every move, every touch, feels like he’s trying to make up for everything he never said, everything he left behind.

The kiss deepens, each second unravelling more of the carefully constructed armour you’ve built around your heart. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as everything else feels like it’s spinning. You can feel the heat radiating off him with every press of his body against yours. Your mind screams at you to stop, to think, to pull away before you lose yourself completely – but your body betrays you. The years of hurt, anger, and confusion dissolve into the fire burning between you, ignited by a kiss that’s as much a battle as it is a surrender.

Lewis pulls back just enough to let you breathe, his lips still hovering close, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is hot against your skin, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. “You still want to go back and fuck your little lover boy?”

“Who?” You mumble, breathless as a result of the kiss as your eyes become heavy with something you can’t quite describe.

Lewis smirks, a glint of triumph flashing in his dark eyes. "Exactly," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your waist in slow, deliberate circles. His confidence is maddening, but the heat between you makes it impossible to summon the indignation you’d usually feel.

You try to muster a response, something sharp and cutting to put him back in his place, but the way his gaze drops to your lips again makes the words dissolve before they even form. “Don’t do that,” you manage, though your voice lacks the conviction you intended.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, though the rasp in his tone betrays his intent.

“Act like this changes everything.”

His smirk falters, replaced by a seriousness that roots you in place. “It doesn’t change everything,” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But it changes something. Doesn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your ribs as his words sink in. You hate how easily he disarms you, how effortlessly he pulls you back into his orbit no matter how much you’ve tried to escape it. But deep down, you know he’s right. “I hate you,” you whisper, though even you can hear the weakness in your words.

“I know,” he replies, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “And I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

The sincerity in his voice cuts through the haze, making your chest tighten. But before you can think about it, you find yourself tugging on the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him closer to yourself as you mumble, “Kiss me again.”

Your hands, which moments ago were pushing him away, now find their way into his hair, pulling him closer, as if to anchor yourself in the storm he’s unleashed within you. Lewis doesn’t hold back. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him, the wall at your back the only thing keeping you steady. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that borders on desperation, as though he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When the need for air becomes undeniable, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you are breathing heavily, the space between you charged with everything unsaid. “Tell me you didn’t feel that,” he says, his voice hoarse, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You can’t answer right away, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest it drowns out any coherent thought. But eventually, you manage to find your voice. “I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no conviction behind the words. They sound hollow, even to your own ears.

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, but the edge in your voice falters.

“I’m not,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. “I’m telling you what I see. And I see you... still here. Still looking at me like that.” His hand trails down to your hip, his touch light but grounding. “If you hated me, you would’ve walked away by now.”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to regain some semblance of control, but it’s impossible with him standing this close, his presence overwhelming. “This doesn’t change anything,” you say, though it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself than him.

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softer now. “But it’s a start.” You don’t say anything to agree or refute his statement, and after a brief pause, he straightens, fixies your dress and tries to fix your hair as well. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take you back.”

“But, my bag,” you mutter, pushing out your lower lip in a pout when you realise your bag is on the floor. Lewis has to restrain himself when he sees your lips all puffed up because of him. Your voice is whiny, and he realises you’re slurring your words a little bit when you tug on his shirt, “I don’t wanna leave my bag here.”

Lewis looks at you for a moment, his expression softening as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin with the same tenderness he’s shown all night despite all your fighting. With a soft exhale, Lewis bends down to pick up your bag, holding it out to you with the same quiet care. “Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but laced with something tender. “You really wanna go back to that room, after everything that just happened?”

You look at him, a mix of confusion and desire swirling inside you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the honesty slipping out before you can stop it. The words feel raw, vulnerable, but there’s something about his presence, the way he’s here, still so close, that makes you feel safe enough to say it.

Lewis doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, his eyes soften, his thumb grazing the strap of your bag as he watches you closely, as though he’s searching for something in your expression. Finally, he steps closer again, the space between you narrowing once more. “I get it,” he says quietly. “But I’m not letting you go home alone tonight.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, to push him away, but there’s something in his gaze, the way he’s looking at you now, that makes you second-guess everything you thought you wanted. You hesitate for a moment longer, the weight of your thoughts heavy in the air, but the pull between you is undeniable. It’s the kind of pull that’s magnetic, that doesn’t let you escape even when you try to resist.

Finally, you nod, the decision feeling both like a surrender and a choice you can’t take back. “Okay,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “Take me back, then.”

You don’t even remember getting into his car, but you do remember the smug look he shot at your date – Carl, you think – when he helped you through the club with a firm hand on your back. The villa Lewis rented for his little getaway is entirely what you expect it to be – modern, grand, and secluded enough so no one uninvited would know he is there and bother him. The couch in the living room looks way too inviting and you make a mental note to avoid it for now. Sitting on it might make this whole situation feel too real, too comfortable, and you’re not ready for that. You glance around the space instead, taking in the clean lines of the modern furniture, the polished wood floors, and the sprawling windows that offer an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean. You walk towards the windows, eyes taking in the view from inside the villa. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faintly audible even through the glass, a gentle hum that seems to echo the turmoil in your chest.

You wrap your arms around yourself, partly to steady your nerves and partly to shield yourself from the vulnerability creeping up on you. The view is breathtaking, but it does little to quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You faintly hear Lewis calling out your name, but as if you are in a trance, you can’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. His voice calls out to you again, softer this time, closer. “Hey,” he says, and you feel the warmth of his presence before you even see him. Lewis’s reflection appears in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on you as he stands just behind you.

You finally tear your gaze away from the ocean and turn to face him, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment.

Lewis nods, his expression unreadable as he follows your gaze back to the window. “It is,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to his tone, as if he’s not just talking about the view. His eyes flicker back to you, searching your face. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s helping much.”

You let out a shaky laugh, more to fill the silence than anything else. “It’s not that simple, Lewis.”

“Nothing ever is,” he replies, stepping closer until there’s only a breath of space between you. “But I’m here. You don’t have to deal with whatever this is alone.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. “I don’t know what to do with you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “With... us.”

He exhales deeply, his hand lifting as though he wants to touch you but hesitates. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he says, his voice steady. “I just want to make sure you’re okay tonight. That’s all that matters to me.”

Something about his words, his presence, eases the knot in your chest, if only slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. “Just be here. With me.”

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of pretense or ulterior motives, but all you see is the same man who’s managed to undo you with a single glance. “Show me your room.”

“We don’t have to do that.” His eyebrows furrow as he reaches for your cheek, “That not why I brought you here.”

“Isn’t it?” You try to joke, but his deep sigh is a sign of his disapproval. “I know that’s not why you brought me here, but it can be one of the reasons you brought me here.”

“Can it?” He drawls, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“For God’s sake, Lewis.” You sigh, turning your body towards the man standing next to you. “Do I need to beg you for you to fuck me?”

Lewis’s smirk falters, his expression shifting into something deeper, darker, but undeniably tender. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with restraint as he steps closer. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You don’t need to beg me for anything. Not now, not ever.”

The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. “Then fuck me,” you whisper, your voice trembling with equal parts frustration and desire. “If you want me, show me.”

He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s steadying himself, and when he opens them again, the resolve in his expression takes your breath away. “You think I don’t want you?” he asks, his tone low but firm. “You don’t know how hard it is to hold back, to stop myself from–” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if even admitting it is too much. He reaches for one of your hands, freeing from your hold and places it on his crotch. “See what you do to me?”

The crude act manages to steal a gasp from you, your eyes widening at how hard he already is. “Lewis,” you mutter, he responds with an affirmative hum, “show me your bedroom.”

He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and leads you down a sleek hallway. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished wood floor echoes softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. When he pushes open the door to his bedroom, you’re momentarily distracted by how much the space reflects him. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft, ethereal light. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft light.

You walk towards the centre of the room, the corner of your lip trapped between your teeth as you glance at Lewis over your shoulder before you run towards the bed and throw yourself onto the soft bedding. Lewis watches you with an amused smirk as you sprawl across the bed, your carefree motion starkly contrasting the simmering tension in the air. “Comfortable, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrays his calm façade.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, giving him a challenging look. “Very.” Then you narrow your eyes at him, “But don’t call me baby, I am not your baby.”

He chuckles, low and throaty, as he steps closer, loosening the top button of his shirt with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down your spine. “No?” he muses, stopping at the edge of the bed. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if committing you to memory.

Your breath hitches when he leans over, placing a hand on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. His face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I like seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Relaxed, it suits you.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand completely. Your fingers trail up his chest, over the defined planes of his torso, and then slide beneath the open collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice soft but loaded with meaning.

His response is immediate. His lips crash against yours with a fervour that steals your breath, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss is raw and consuming, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into the connection. When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You smile, your hands slipping down to the waistband of his pants. “Why don’t you show me?”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries you to the centre of the bed. He chuckles at the sound of your giggling, as he carefully lays you back down on the soft bed. His fingers work diligently to get you out of your dress, pulling the linen garment over your head as Lewis lets his eyes hungrily take you in. When your dress finally falls away, leaving you in nothing but lace and skin, Lewis takes a slow breath, his eyes scanning over your body with a mixture of awe and hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, his touch sending shivers of desire through your body.

You arch slightly into his touch, your breath coming faster, and you meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “Are you going to just gawk at me, or are you going to actually do something?”

He smirks, a flash of cockiness in his eyes. “Patience,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he lowers himself over you. With one hand bracing himself above you, his other hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers inch closer to where you need him most. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his lips just inches from yours. His fingers find the lace of your underwear, his touch deliberate as he pulls it aside and slips a finger inside you, making you gasp. “You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, his lips crashing against yours as he deepens the kiss, his finger working inside you with a slow, steady rhythm. You can feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second.

“Don- don’t say ‘fuck’, Lewis,” you tease him with a small smirk as your breathing becomes deeper, “it’s unbecoming.”

“You’ll see who will be coming in a few minutes, baby.” He chuckles at the way your expression changes at the mention of the word, his fingers moving in deeper as your let out a disapproving moan, “What? You don’t like it when I call you that?”

With another dissenting hum and a raise of your hips to meet his hand, you let out a long exhale. “I’m not your baby Lewis, stop calling me that.” With the patience that only he can tolerate, he continues the leisurely movements of his fingers. “I want more, please.”

Lewis tuts at your words softly, chuckling as he takes in your reactions. “I think you have a very important decision to make here,” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly painted with something more serious, “because once I fuck you, I’m not letting you go.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The words come out choppy as your breathing gets more erratic, his fingers stubbornly keeping to the slow rhythm he’s set.

Lewis's gaze sharpens, the challenge in your tone sparking a flame in his dark eyes. “Oh, you’ll see it, alright,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise as his hand withdraws briefly, leaving you breathless and aching. Before you can protest, he moves with deliberate precision, tugging his shirt over his head and revealing the expanse of his chest – sculpted, strong, and utterly captivating. “Get on your hands and knees.”

The command leaves no room for debate, his voice firm but laden with heat. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity flickering in your expression. “Bold of you to assume I'll listen,” you quip, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your anticipation.

Lewis smirks, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, you'll listen,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know exactly how patient I can be, but the same can’t be said for you.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, and before you realize it, you’ve complied, shifting onto your hands and knees in the centre of the bed. You can practically feel his gaze on you, then all of a sudden, you can actually feel him behind you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he moves closer. “Good girl,” he says softly, his voice rich with approval, and the way your body reacts to the praise is almost embarrassing. “Oh, my beautiful darling.” His hands skim over your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. The grip is firm, possessive, sending a thrill through you.

The sounds of him taking himself out of his trousers and pumping cock in his hand is pure debauchery, yet you find yourself pushing your hips back against his thighs. Lewis's low chuckle reverberates through you, a sound full of confidence and desire. His hand tightens on your hips, steadying you as he leans in, his chest brushing against your back. The heat of his skin against yours makes you arch into him instinctively, earning another throaty laugh from him. “You're eager,” he teases, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I like you like this.”

You bite your lip to suppress the needy sound threatening to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe you're just slow,” you retort breathlessly, glancing back at him over your shoulder, a challenging look in your eyes.

Lewis growls low in his throat, his hands sliding across your back. “Careful,” he warns, though there's a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Push me too far, and I won't be nice.” Your breath catches at his words, but before you can form a response, you feel him guiding himself to your entrance, teasingly dragging against you. The deliberate slowness makes your frustration peak, and you push your hips back, a wordless plea for him to stop teasing.

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. But even as he says it, he shifts forward, entering you with a deliberate motion that steals the breath from your lungs.

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust. “Lewis,” you breathe, your voice shaky with need.

His hands gently caress over the skin of your back and hips, soothing over the sharp feeling of Lewis easing himself into you in small movements of his hips. “You’re doing so well,” he shushes your whiny moans, his hands tracing your sides, grounding you. “You feel perfect, we’re almost there, darling.”

“A-almost?” Your voice cuts his words off, voice shaky with need, “It’s not going to fit, Lewis, I can’t-”

He leans over you, his lips pressing tender kisses along your spine, each one sending a ripple of warmth through you. His voice is a soothing murmur in your ear. “Relax for me, darling. Let me take care of you.” Your breathing steadies under his touch, the initial sting giving way to a fullness that leaves you breathless as he pushes himself fully into you. You arch your back slightly, pressing into him as his hands continue their gentle exploration of your body. The tenderness in his actions contrasts with the raw desire in his voice, creating a heady mix that leaves you yearning for more. “That's it,” he praises, his tone soft but laced with heat. “You’re incredible. See? We made it fit.”

“I feel so full.” You manage to let out, voice whiny as the moan is ripped from the back of your throat. “It feels so good, Lewis.”

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds gradually, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction ignites a fire within you, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips, each sound spurring him on. His grip on your hips tightens, his pace increasing as he finds the perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair as he pulls you back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? Only mine.”

The moan that comes from you is dissenting, causing Lewis to slide his hand down your throat to use the leverage to pull you up on your knees, pressed against his chest. “No,” you say, hands extending backwards to keep holding onto him in an attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he is fucking you now.

His words send a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something primal within you. “Say it,” he commands, his voice rough as his movements grow more urgent. “Say you're mine.”

Your breaths are shallow, punctuated by soft whimpers as you cling to him, trying to keep pace with his movements. The way he pulls you against him, his hand firm on your throat, sends a jolt of heat through your core. His hand is firm around your throat, but not uncomfortable to the point that you can’t breathe.

“I’m not yours,” you gasp defiantly, your voice trembling with every move he makes.

Lewis growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your back as his hand tightens slightly around your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place. “We’ll see about that,” he says darkly.

His hips snap against you harder now, his rhythm relentless as if determined to prove you wrong. The overwhelming sensation leaves you gasping, your fingers clutching at his forearm for balance. His free hand slides down your body, gripping your waist to hold you steady as he drives deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“Still not mine?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His tone is equal parts teasing and commanding, daring you to resist him. “Still think someone else can fuck you better than I can?” You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans spilling from you, but the way he moves, the way he claims you, has you crumbling. “Say it,” he repeats, his voice a low growl that echoes through your very core.

Torn between defiance and surrender, you meet his challenge with a shaky breath. “I’m-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that has you crying out his name instead.

“Hmm?” Lewis chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying your struggle. His grip on your neck softens slightly as his fingers trace the column of your throat in a soothing gesture. “Come on, baby, just say it.”

“I’m-” The word catches in your throat as he shifts slightly, the angle of his hips hitting a spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. A broken moan escapes your lips instead, and Lewis smirks against your ear, clearly revelling in your unravelling.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice low and demanding. His hand slides from your throat to your jaw, turning your face just enough that his lips can brush against the corner of your mouth. The gentleness of the gesture is at odds with the raw intensity of his movements, leaving you breathless.

“I’m yours,” you finally gasp, the words tumbling out in a mix of desperation and surrender.

Lewis freezes for a heartbeat, his chest heaving against your back as the admission settles between you. Then, with a triumphant growl, he resumes his pace, his grip on you tightening as if he intends to imprint himself into every fibber of your being.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His lips trail along your shoulder, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “Say it again.”

“Yours,” you whisper, the word coming easier this time, though the weight of it still sends a shiver through you.

His rhythm grows more urgent, his body moving with a single-minded purpose as he pushes you both toward the edge. “Never forget it,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, “now come for me.” You blame the singular cocktail you had three or so hours ago for your compliance to his words, as you feel the wave of pleasure crash over you, obliterating any coherent thought. Your body trembles uncontrollably in his arms, your cries of release echoing in the room as he whispers sweet words of praise in your ear.

There are a million other things Lewis expects you to say, but you surprise him with a, “I wanna taste you.”

Lewis's movements still, his breath catching at your unexpected words. He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with surprise and a flicker of intrigue. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement and undeniable heat.

You nod, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, but there’s a spark of confidence in your eyes. “I really do,” you say softly, the tremble in your voice betraying both your boldness and your eagerness.

He studies you for a moment longer, his expression shifting to one of reverence laced with desire. "Well," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "who am I to deny you, darling?" With a gentleness that contrasts the fervour of moments ago, Lewis guides you to sit up, his hands warm and steady as they support you. He shifts to the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, giving you room and letting you take control. His gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation. You settle between his thighs, your hands skimming over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles tense under your touch. There's a sense of power in the way his body responds to you, in the way his breathing hitches when your lips brush against him. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a small smile before leaning in. The moment your mouth closes around him, Lewis groans low in his throat, his head falling back as his control begins to slip. His hands find their way to your hair, his touch gentle but firm as he guides you, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re perfect, baby.”

The sound of his voice, the way he says your name like it’s the only thing that matters, spurs you on, and you lose yourself in the moment, intent on unravelling him the way he did you. Your lips move with deliberate intent, your tongue tracing teasing paths that have him groaning your name like a prayer. His fingers tighten in your hair, a gentle tug that makes you glance up at him through your lashes. The sight of him – head tilted back, his lips parted as he struggles for breath, sends a thrill through you.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice ragged and filled with awe. His eyes find yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself. The sound he makes is primal, his control slipping further as his hips jerk involuntarily. He tries to hold himself back, but you can tell he’s close to losing himself completely. “Baby,” Lewis rasps, his voice thick with need, “you keep that up, and I won’t last.” You hum around him in response, the vibration pulling another groan from his lips. His hand slips from your hair to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender contrast to the raw passion between you. “Look at me,” he whispers, his tone almost pleading.

You meet his gaze, and the connection between you feels electric. His chest heaves as his breaths come in quick, shallow bursts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to stop?” The shake of your head is all the answer he needs. With a curse under his breath, he lets go, his body shuddering as he gives himself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He holds your gaze the entire time, his grip on you tightening as if anchoring himself to the moment.

When he calms down, he collapses back against the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. You sit back after swallowing, a triumphant smile playing on your lips as you take in the sight of him, utterly undone. “That was fun,” you rasp as you take in the sight in front of you.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound low and breathless, as he drapes an arm over his face, trying to regain his composure. “Fun?” he repeats, his voice laced with amusement and lingering satisfaction. He peeks at you from under his arm, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of adoration and disbelief. “You’ve got no idea what you just did to me.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you crawl up the bed to lie beside him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you tease, your voice light but with a hint of pride.

He turns toward you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching out to trace lazy circles along your arm. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet filled with a reverence that makes your cheeks flush. “And I’m completely at your mercy.”

You laugh, the sound light and genuine, as you nuzzle into his touch. “I think you like it that way,” you reply, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“More than you know,” he admits, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. The tender gesture contrasts with the raw intensity you’d just shared, and it sends a warm flutter through your chest.

For a moment, silence falls between you, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets and the slowing rhythm of his breathing. Then Lewis shifts, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his gaze. “Good,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face as he tightens his hold on you. “That’s all I get?”

“We’ll see how you feel after we get home,” you mumble as you run a finger along the curve of his jaw, “you might be bored of me by then.”

“Home,” Lewis muses quietly, breaking the silence and ignoring your words. His voice is softer now, contemplative. “I like the sound of that.”

You glance up at him, his face so close that you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression. It stirs something deep within you – a mix of tenderness and longing that takes you by surprise.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Me too.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff

193 notes · View notes

ylangelegy · 2 days ago

Note

what the fuKCKENFR IM SO MAD I CANT REBLOG YOUR POSTS OR MSG U ON MY SIDEBLOG RN COS ANOTHER??? HOZIER??? FIC????

(work song next WHHAT WHO SAID THAT)

so full of love (i could barely eat) 🍒 seungcheol x reader.

★ established relationship, pet name ['baby'], inspired by hozier's work song. viv, i know this was supposed to be in response to worship in the bedroom (and not really a serious request), but the thought of cheol x work song did not let me go. a little gift for u. <3 word count: 755.

It’s nearly two in the morning when Seungcheol gets home.

One of those days, he likes to call it. He had been out of the apartment before the sun rose up, had jumped from one schedule to another with something akin to reckless abandon. Fan meet. Radio show. Practice. Meeting.

When he’s busy, the exhaustion is kept at bay. There’s no time to think about the phantom ache behind his knee, the pesky soreness of his thigh.

But then he walks through the front door and it all comes crashing down on him. Suddenly, he is Atlas, bearing the heavens on his shoulders.

He toes off his shoes with a soft sigh. Evidence of you is apparent from the entryway. The kitchen light has been left on. The humidifier is spewing one of his favorite scents. A collection of sweet nothings, none of which he thinks he deserves.

Had he even texted you today? Seungcheol isn’t certain. He remembers seeing your texts light up his screen, though. Gentle reminders from morning to evening.

Don’t forget your vitamins.

Grab lunch.

Bundle up. It’s snowing, and your bones are weak to the cold.

Seungcheol had listened at each turn, whether or not he realized it. A multivitamin from Seungkwan. A sandwich hurriedly eaten on the way to the studio. The scarf you had given him, the one that still faintly smelled like you.

He knows there’s probably food waiting for him in the microwave, knows you’ve likely set aside a plate in anticipation of his late arrival. Seungcheol bypasses it in favor of heading for your shared bedroom.

Sure enough, you’re already asleep. He’ll realize a little later that you texted about that, too— a message of might be asleep when you get home, I love you— but for now, he only lingers by the doorway as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

He feels everything then. The gnaw of guilt. The overwhelming affection. The urge to protect and provide.

As quietly as he can manage, Seungcheol crosses the room. He can already predict how you’re going to react to him sinking into bed and sliding underneath the covers with you.

You stir in your sleep at the feeling of Seungcheol snaking his arm around your waist. Despite being half-awake, you have the wits to mumble, “You’re still wearing outside clothes.”

Bingo.

Seungcheol knew it, and the thought of that— of correctly predicting what you might do or say— fills him with an odd sense of pride. He doesn’t give voice to it, though, not wanting to rouse you more than he already has.

“I’ll change.” His voice is a murmur even though there’s no other soul in the apartment besides you two. Something about the early hour and the low light makes him feel like he should tread carefully, like the moment is as fragile as ice on a lake. “Just wanted to hold you for a bit, baby.”

You grumble something incoherent, the words lost to the way you bury your face into the front of Seungcheol’s shirt. And suddenly Seungcheol can’t help himself. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. Then one to your forehead. Then one to your temple. Then—

“Cheol.” You whine out his name, your tone edged with exhaustion. You never did take kindly to your sleep being interrupted.

“Sorry, sorry,” he huffs.

He kisses the tip of your nose for good measure.

It’s one of those days. Seungcheol is bone-tired, and home late, and he missed you. If he were a stronger man, a better man, he’d let you sleep. Stalk off to eat his microwaved dinner and change into his pajamas so you don’t gripe about dirty sheets in the morning.

Seungcheol decides: He’s not a good man. And so instead he holds you a little tighter, leaves a couple more kisses across your face, allows his body to let go of the day’s weight.

After his nth kiss to your face, you let out another low grumble. He’s about to apologize, about to tell you that he’ll finally, finally let off, when you tilt your head up to lazily slot your lips against his. You’re barely coherent, and yet you’re still giving him exactly what he wants needs.

Soft, sleepy, sweet. His, his, his.

Seungcheol’s eyes flutter close. He makes no move to deepen the kiss, to ask for more than what you can offer.

In your arms, he feels a little less like Atlas.

In your arms, he’s just Seungcheol.

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol drabble #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt drabble #seventeen drabble #୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy #୨ৎ you've got mail .ᐟ #୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt #vivimvs #( TAPPING OUT NOW. NO MORE HOZIER I SWEAR )

359 notes · View notes

hcneymooners · 3 days ago

Text

⋆ heart on a sleeve.

(lowkey toxic!)bsf!vi x bsf!reader. men & minors dni.

pt. i ( you are here. ) / pt. ii.

synopsis: vi is handling her breakup badly, but you refuse to give up on her. it's part of the deal when you're irrevocably in love with your best friend.

cw: vi exhibits toxic behavior but is more complex than toxic, this part is sfw but part ii is going to be explicit, pit fighter!vi, implied alcoholism, emotional hurt/comfort, second chances, implied friend breakups, not actually unrequited love, vi is trying her best and so are you, blk-coded reader but all are welcome to read.

notes: inspired by the beautiful @avonnimimi. adore her. also the raccoon thing actually happened to me, lol. love you.

you've always loved winter in the city. winter is your season. the world grows unnaturally quiet underneath the suffocation of snowfall; you can finally hear yourself think. the heat is cranked up as high as it can go without bothering you and you sit on the floor, hips groaning as you stretch them out.

tonight, the snow falls soft and quiet, less fervent than the day before, catching in the glow of streetlights. you’re in a navy blue sleep set, your silk shorts clinging to your cocoa-buttered thighs. the fabric is covered with detailed illustrations of eopards, their mouths open and demanding. despite it not being your preference, you have your best friend on the phone as you contort yourself into different shapes. she keeps shooting you looks as your joints pop, your bones waking up from their slumber.

“baby, i don’t think you’re supposed to be sounding like this at twenty-one.”

“don’t worry about it, lia. that’s why we stretch.”

dalia rolls her eyes from where she looms across the screen, her skin dark and gleaming post-shower.

eventually, you settle, loose and limber, and begin scrolling through old photos on your phone. your gold rings catch the light as you swipe past memories – vi teaching you to throw a proper punch, both of you sprawled on the quad during finals week, the night she got that bartending job. you’d celebrated with cheap champagne and a close call (read: climbed right into her lap and almost kissed her.)

your shared apartment feels hollow tonight. vi's combat boots aren’t kicked off by the door, her jacket isn’t thrown over the kitchen chair. her location is turned off and it eats at your stomach, but you try to self-soothe.

traces of her are everywhere – the worn boxing gloves hanging by the entry, the pile of mechanics textbooks on the coffee table, the polaroids magnetted to the fridge. your favorite was from last summer: vi half-asleep on the couch, head in your lap, while you read your sociology textbook.

dalia took that one, said something about capturing moments that matter.

you remember the night vi moved in, both of you drunk on cheap wine and possibility, sprawled on the empty living room floor.

"mama," she'd said, grinning up at the ceiling, "we're gonna make this place ours." and you did – vi's fight posters next to your framed family photos, her protein shakes beside your san pellegrino, your shared vinyl collection taking over the windowsill.

it was your most desired dream: to have a beautiful life. with her, if you could have everything you truly wanted.

your mom's daily check-in text slides gently over your screen: how's my baby doing? vi still being stubborn?

before you can reply, your phone buzzes with another call.

( three months ago )

vi's sitting on your bathroom floor, knuckles bloody from another underground fight. she's been taking more of those since caitlyn left, each one more reckless than the last. you don't say anything, just kneel beside her with the first aid kit you've kept stocked since freshman year.

"you don't have to keep doing this," she mumbles as you clean her wounds.

"i know." you focus on wrapping her hand, trying not to let your fingers shake. "i want to."

she watches you work, something unreadable on her face. "why?"

you don't answer at first. just keep wrapping, gentle as you can. some questions are too dangerous to answer honestly. still, you try.

“you’re never going to stop doing this to yourself,” you say finally. “this ache, this punishment—it’s going to live inside you for a while.”

you can feel her looking at you, blue eyes following the bend of your neck as you slick the splits of her skin with paste. her gaze is heavy. you refuse to look up.

“when i was younger, i found a racoon in my backyard. it was so sick, but i was so little and tried to save it. i called animal control, because i didn’t understand how they “handled” situations.” you flip her hand over, thumb grazing her palm. “i asked them to come pick it up, to rehabilitate it. he told me to look away, but i still held out hope. he shot it right in front of me. i cried, i think. still think about it.”

you’re still holding her hand, and she takes over the grip. she exerts pressure and tilts your chin up, bringing you back to her. your eyes are wide and luminous, two planets.

“when i see you, it’s like that,” you tell her. “except i know better now. i take care of it, of you, myself. it makes me feel like there’s a better chance at survival.”

you shuffle onto your knees, body tensing as you push yourself up. vi catches you by the ankle, tugs until you stumble against her bandaged chest. she presses a weak kiss to your calf.

“thank you.”

“mmhmm,” is all you answer, thumbing at her brow before leaving.

(one month ago)

the party's too loud, too crowded. bass thrums through the floor like a second heartbeat. you're watching vi across the room, watching her drink too much, watching her laugh too sharp when someone mentions caitlyn's name.

when she starts another fight – with who? does it even matter anymore? – and ends it with kissing someone else, something in you breaks. you slip away to the bathroom, sink to the floor in your party dress, press your hands against cool tile. you hate crying. hates how it makes you feel exposed, vulnerable. but the tears come anyway.

the door opens. dalia's there, sinking down beside you. she doesn't say anything, just pulls you close, lets you hide your face in her shoulder.

"baby girl," she whispers, but you cut her off.

“lia, later. please,” you rasp.

the bass keeps thumping outside. you can’t hear your heart, but you can feel it. you’re always fucking feeling it. you keep crying.

( now )

for years to come, you will always remember this moment. how you paused before hanging up on dalia and picking up for vi.

“violet?” your voice is low, tired.

across the line, somewhere cold and devoid of you, vi shivers. she loves when you say her full name, wants to eat you whole when you let it rasp across your tongue and teeth until it falls free.

“hey, angel. look, i swear m'fine to drive," she slurs before you can continue asking after her. your heart drops. “i just wanted to tell you ‘m on my way home.”

"violet, where are you?" you're already grabbing your keys, oversized park half-falling off of you.

"just... just leaving jinx's. cait was there with her new fucking—“ her voice cracks. "doesn't matter. i got this."

"stay put. i'm coming to get you."

“what? no—“ there’s a sound suspiciously like her dropping her keys. “fuck, ‘m dizzy.”

“violet,” you’re beginning to panic, your voice rising. “vi, listen to me. are you in the car?”

the door slams across the line. you have your answer.

“vi, please listen to me. i’m coming, okay? i’ll be right there. please don’t start the fucking car.” nothing. “violet! i know you can fucking hear me.”

it’s about five minutes of silence, before she speaks again. you’re borderline hyperventilating, hands shaking as you try to locate jinx’s number to get her to go outside and stop her sister.

"nah, you don't gotta—"

the sound of screeching metal cuts her off. then it’s dead air. you're running to your car before the call ends.

ᥫ᭡.

the accident scene is a nightmare made real. you find her car wrapped around a lamppost, driver's side crumpled like paper. your heart nearly stops until you see her stumbling away from the wreck, that familiar shock of pink hair catching the streetlight. she's swaying dangerously on the icy sidewalk. your hands shake as you guide her into your passenger seat, trying not to think about how close—

she reeks of whiskey and wears that same leather jacket she's had since her fighting days. The one with the worn elbows and faded patches. the one you helped pick out years ago, before university, before caitlyn, before everything got so complicated.

"you should've minded your own business," vi mutters, breaking the tense silence. her words have edges, sharp ones meant to cut.

you grip the wheel tighter. "you could have died tonight."

"yeah? maybe that would've been better than—" she cuts herself off, but you both know what she means. better than feeling like this. better than watching caitlyn walk away.

"don't." your voice cracks. "don't you dare. what the actual fuck is wrong with you, violet? why do you say shit like that? you have to stop.”

vi turns to you, eyes blazing with that familiar fight-night fury. "or what? you'll lecture me again? tell me how i'm throwing my life away? save it. i don't need another person telling me how to live my life."

the car comes to a stop at a red light. your layered necklaces catch the glow, throwing golden shadows across the dashboard.

"you think this is about lectures?" the words come out quieter than you meant them to. "vi, i found you in a crashed car. do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"oh, here we go. make it all about you, why don't—"

"yes! for once, let me make it about how i feel!" your voice rises, surprising both of you. you never yell. never let the mask slip. but tonight is different. tonight you almost lost her. "because i love you too much to watch you destroy yourself!"

“you don’t even fucking know me, [name].”

you can feel the heat rising. your throat is growing tight, and you know how this will end.

“we’re best friends, vi.”

her eyes flicker over the side of your face, and you’re just such an easy target and her mouth is opening and—

“i’m only yours.”

the light turns green. neither of you moves. no one’s behind you, both on the road and in real life.

“you,” you whisper, “are so fucking mean to me sometimes.”

embarrassment rushes through you. your face feels hot, and the ball in your throat is so large you’re struggling to breathe. you’re going to cry. maybe she can tell, because she lurches upward and jerks toward you. you jerk back, staring a hole through your windshield.

“[name]—“

you run the red light.

ᥫ᭡.

a week later, dalia corners vi outside the campus coffee shop. you're not there to see it, but the story spreads fast. the city feeds on scandal and t thrives on the misguided.

"you know what?" dalia gets right in vi's face, fury radiating off her small frame. she looks like a wind-up doll, braids freshly done and her hands balled into fists. “i’m sick of watching you treat her like this. she's been there for every fight, every breakdown, every time you needed someone. and what does she get? you taking her for granted, acting like she's disposable."

vi's jaw tightens. "you don't know what you're talking about."

dalia is yelling now, drawing attention. vi’s pretty sure jinx is observing, bright blue teetering in her peripheral vision. her sister had ripped her a new one after receiving your belated messages.

"don't i? because while you're out here playing self-destruct, she's at home crying over you. she'll never say anything because that's just who she is – she loves too damn much and asks for too damn little. she ain’t one of those weak-ass little bitches you keep messing with, but she was never good at establishing boundaries with you. i don’t know what the fuck she's on, but i'm off it. i'll say it."

something in vi's expression shifts, breaks open.

"she... she cries over me?"

"god, you're dense," dalia spits. "she's been in love with you since sophomore year."

vi stumbles into your empty apartment at 1 am—early for her—, still reeling from dalia's words.

“hey, angel?” she calls out, more habit than hope. only ghosts answer.

she finds your room too neat, closet half-empty. your parka's gone. your heavy jewelry box has left a perfect dust-free silhouette on the top of your vanity. she rummages through your desk and finds your monogrammed passport holder gone. she sinks onto your bed, head in her hands.

her phone's in her hand before she realizes, your number dialing. voicemail. again.

“[name], i... i fucked up. i know i fucked up. i’m sorry. please... please pick up. please." her voice breaks. “please, mama.”

seventeen calls. seventeen voicemails. silence.

finally, desperate, she calls dalia.

“look,” she begs, voice raw. "i need to fix this."

dalia's quiet for a long moment. "you're lucky i love that girl so much," she says finally. “she’s going to see her parents. her flight leaves at 4. terminal c. don't fuck this up again."

ᥫ᭡.

vi misses the flight.

ᥫ᭡.

your parents' house hasn't changed. same bright warm kitchen, same family photos lining the walls, same smell of your mom's cooking. it’s been two weeks post-fight. you’re recentering, need space to breathe, to remember who you are without vi's gravity pulling at you.

your dad keeps giving you those knowing looks over breakfast. you’re his daughter emotionally, your mom’s physically. they always joke that your mama said copy-paste, that you stole her entire face.

"sometimes," your dad says one night, his voice carefully light, "loving someone means letting them figure things out on their own."

you re-adjust one of your rings, a nervous habit. it was a gift from vi��two angel wings set on a thin diamond-speckled bar spread across two of your fingers. she’d fought for it. you were pissed. you never took it off, even though you rarely mixed metals.

“mmm. yeah, i know, daddy."

your dad finds you again in the kitchen at midnight, making tea you won't drink. you look so small in your grief, eyes blinking owlishly at the draft of your introduction to ethics paper. you’re wearing your glasses, the frames thick, and he smiles at the sight. you only used them when your eyes became too dry for contacts.

"you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head, then nod, then laugh wetly. your screen blurs into a smear of white and blue.

“i don't know how to stop loving her, daddy." your head drops. “why is this shit always happening to me?”

he pulls you close, kisses your forehead like when you were small. he chooses to let the language slide this one time.

"maybe you're not supposed to, baby. maybe it's not about stopping."

“i know,” you sniff, wiping your face. “i just wish i could pause it when things get bad, take a minute.”

“and that’s fair, baby. nothing wrong with that.”

“love is hard, baby girl.” your head whips up, finds your mother sitting in front of your computer. “you don’t have to pretend otherwise. no one here is going to shame you.”

your heart quakes with so much love that you start blubbering again. your parents only smile, pressing twin kisses to your oil-wet scalp.

“i’ll finish the draft for you, honey. get some sleep,” your mom says and you try to protest, only to get served with her “keep talking” look.

“‘kay,” you tell her. “thank you.”“mmhmm,” she tugs you into another hug. “finish your tea, baby.”

ᥫ᭡.

at the airport, you're going through security when your phone buzzes again. this time it's dalia.

d. <3: girl, you're not gonna believe this.

you hear her before you see her. vi's voice cuts through the airport chaos: "[name!] wait!"

you turn, lower the volume on your playlist. she's there, pink hair wild, still wearing her leather jacket despite the cold. she's holding a ticket.

“i missed the first flight, so i was gonna go to your parents. i couldn’t get a plane out ’til yesterday but then,” she says, breathless. "dalia told me when you were leaving. i... i couldn't let you go without—" she runs a hand through her hair, frustrated.

"i'm shit at this. but mama, please listen to me. i need you to know i'm sorry. not just for that night. for everything. for not seeing what was right in front of me."

you hold yourself very still, careful. hope is a dangerous thing, and she’s starting to rumble within you.

"violet…”

her eyes light up at the sound of her full name, and she rocks onto the balls of her feet.

"i miss you," she says simply. "and not just as my best friend.”

your eyes widen, and vi steps closer. her face is soft and open. somehow, you know she’s aware of your biggest secret. you’re gonna whip dalia’s ass.

“ i think... i think maybe i've been missing you for a long time without knowing it."

the airport bustles around you, but all you can hear is your heart beating too fast. vi takes another step, careful, like you might spook.

you look so beautiful to her, face bare and glazed with what she knows is a mixture of skincare and vaseline to combat the dry air of the plane. you’re being swallowed by your oversized sweatsuit, the hoodie absolutely massive and bubblegum pink. she focuses on your hands, finds the ring she gifted you. you flex your fingers, and her eyes fall on the small “vi” inked between your thumb and pointer. it’s stylized to look like roman numerals but it’s her name.

yours is tatted on her too, just behind her ear.

“look, vi. i—“ your top teeth worry at your bottom lip, plush and pink like a tulip.

"i know i don't deserve another chance," she says softly. "but if you're willing to give me one i swear to god, i’ll take what i can fucking get.”

you look at her – really look at her. she's a mess, clearly hasn't slept, probably bought the first ticket she could find which meant the airlines had robbed her blind. but her eyes are clear. present. seeing you maybe for the first time.

“i think you still have some things to deal with. like cait.”

“who?” she says, and you know she’s posturing, but it makes you laugh. vi grins, pleased with herself.

“don’t piss me off, violet,” you tell her and she closes the distance, threads her hands along your hips.

your body conforms to the comfort, to the familiarity. you close your eyes, lean your forehead against her chest. she’s so thick, so broad, that she shelters you. the world is so quiet here.

"slow," you say finally. "we’re taking this slow."

her smile breaks like sunrise. "slow," she agrees. "i can do slow."

above, your gate is called over the speaker. vi adjusts your necklace, takes your suitcase and bag. her fingers linger as you transfer them to her hands, sending a pulse down to your stomach. it’ll be hard to be careful. gentle. new.

“c’mon, mama,” she murmurs.

her hand is held out. you take a minute, maybe two, but you still hold it.

bonus:

d <3: so y’all kiss yet, or what?

you: you got one more time.

#vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi fluff #vi arcane #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #female!reader #fem!reader #black!reader #blktumblr #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #vi x fem reader #vi league of legends #mine ; 🐎.

180 notes · View notes

unholybacon355 · 2 days ago

Text

What's under my christmas tree?

Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 6 K

TW: Incest.

A/N:

I have to say some important things.

First, they are deeply wrong and damaged. Please notice that.

Second. I was supposed to release this on christmas eve but things happened so I'm posting it now.

And third, this is the continuation of Day 1 of my Kinktober stories. You don't need to read that after this, since is a short story gives zero context to this one. But if you want to read it you can find it on my profile.

And last one. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I thing would be better if I split it in two. So second chapter is coming soon.

CHAPTER ONE

Another family dinner, as the thousand you have had since you’re alive, nothing special about this one that makes it memorable. Just a complete normal family dinner with your dad, your mom, and your older sister. Everything normal, nothing to care about, not at all. Just the usual things like Ryujin making fun of you for being a loser and not getting bitches. She is loving messing with you while she’s rubbing her foot against your crotch under the table. Just a totally normal Christmas dinner with your family.

You’re hard and nervous at the same time. You want to take off your pants and let your sister perform a proper footjob, but for obvious reasons you can’t do that in the middle of the family dinner. She knows that and you can see in her deep brown eyes that that is exactly the reason why she’s messing with you right now.

You can remember exactly how this insane side of your relationship started. Was years ago during one of your vacation that she found you smelling an used pair of panties. You thought it was from one of her friends, Chaeryeong, who was with your family on that vacation. But ended up being one of Ryujin’s used panties instead. That crazy night she maybe had drank more than she should have and one thing led to another so you ended up putting a show from your sister and masturbating in front of her, smelling her pussy aroma from her dirty underwear while she was making fun and encouraging you at the same time. From there things were periodically escalating within days, and by the end of the vacations you two eventually ended fucking.

You seriously think that you should feel bad about the fact that at least once per month you cum inside your sister’s pussy, but seriously she’s so annoying on a daily basis that you believe that is a great compensation.

You aren't getting bitches, as Ryujin always says, and she takes advantage of that by always messing with you. Always rubbing her body against you in the most subtle ways, like for example how she did during the family photo this same evening.

You were sitting on the couch accommodating for the said photo and Ryujin just sat on your lap. The problem was that she was rubbing her ass on your crotch, causing you a massive erection. The almost imperceptibly slow and circular movement of her ass made your shaft stab her, and she was smiling all the time. No one could notice it on the photo but you were holding it to not bend her over the carpet and fuck your sister in front of the christmas tree.

And now you have her foot rubbing your erection while she's making jokes and asking you mom to pass her the salad. Your sister is a truly evil being, but you have to give credit to her for maintaining this charade. She should venture into acting since is too good at putting on that poker face while doing nasty things.

You know how fast her expressions can change since one of her favorite activities is ruining your orgasm by looking right into your eyes with her most dirty and slutty face, and in the right moment changing to a disgusting or angry face. Your sister could easily be an actress and win an Oscar.

Is incredible how Ryuijin can manage to look like a good daughter while bringing you to the very verge of an orgasm. Her foot works on your crotch pressing and rubbing your erection with expert and precise movements, as if she had done this countless times. And maybe she did it, since even you know the rumors about her that people tell in her campus. And it is her expert foot that finally makes you cum, but is a disappointing orgasm. Totally ruined by the fact that you can make any noise and have to maintain your composure since you're in front of your parents, still at the family dinner. Ryujin's foot immediately leaves your erection in peace when she notices that you have already cummed.

Somehow you managed to maintain composure and not moan right there. Only your mom noticed something was wrong and asked you if everything was ok. You were quick to tell her that you have eaten so much because everything was delicious, and that's all. That was just you having a full stomach and nothing more. Deflecting all doubts into a burst of giggles from your sister. At least she helps you with this one.

After dinner came the exchange of gifts, which you had to go through with your boxer soaked in your cum. It feels dirty and makes you worry that your parents might smell it, or your pants get stained and they could notice it. Luckily for you nothing happens and everything goes right, you even get a pretty gift from Ryujin. Which considering what she just did to you at the dinner was giving you mixed feelings.

After all, family night ended up being beautiful, as a christmas night should be for everyone. All the fun and family games ended sooner than you wish because your parents had to leave to attend a friend’s party and obviously you weren't going to be hanging out with your sister in the living room. So one second after your mom let you know that they aren’t coming back till tomorrow lunch and leave the house, you're running to your room without giving any chance to Ryujin to mess with you again.

Hours have passed but you are still awake, being occasionally distracted from your studies by the snow falling at the other side of the window, and for your sister’s steps coming down and up on the stairs. What she’s doing is a mystery for you and honestly you don’t wanna know, maybe she’s sneaking one of her friends in the house to get her guts rearranged. In which case you don’t wanna know, or maybe you want and you will use the sounds of Ryujin getting railed to jack off properly. Since she ruined your orgasm at dinner, that sounds fair. You’re now curious but to your surprise her steps stop in front of your door.

“Are you still up, loser?” Ryujin asks after carefully opening your door and sticking just her head in the room. For some reason she’s wearing makeup and a christmas hat.

“Get out, I'm studying. I have an exam next week.” You make her a gesture with your hand to leave the room but instead she blatantly steps inside. Know you really don't know what is happening because Ryujin is dressed like some kind of Santa Claus. The all red costume could be considered sexy in some way because she’s wearing a miniskirt that barely covers more than her ass, thigh highs and a crop top jacket leaving her stomach exposed. All of that topped by a cape, that is actually what is preventing her ass to be seen, and said hat. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh come on! Stop being a loser. Is christmas.” She’s putting on a show here because is pouting and stepping on the floor as if she were some kind of spoiled child. Which in part she is. “Don’t you wanna watch a movie with your sister and have a nice night? I already settled everything on the first floor.”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?” You have the right to be suspicious since clearly your sister is plotting something here.

“Come on Loser, is christmas. I don’t wanna waste my night sleeping, not tonight. Besides you study a lot, you're practically the first in your class. You deserve a rest too.” Well, at least she was right on that. “I already prepared hot chocolate and cookies. But if you don’t want it, all it's gonna be for me.” And recovering her bratty attitude, more or less her true nature, Ryujin sticks out her tongue and leaves your room. Obviously she didn’t close the door.

When you were about to close the door something made you change your mind and instead you shouted to the first floor. “Wait for me, I’m coming down in a minute.” Maybe she’s right and you deserved a rest after hardly studying the entire year.

Minutes later you're amazed by what Ryujin prepared for your little movie night. She has moved things in the living room, making a big space in the middle. There on the floor she placed blankets and some pillows piled against the big couch, making a bed for you two. There is also a center tabled with what seems to be a thermos with hot chocolate and some christmas cookies, two mugs of that hot chocolate have been already served and are steaming there. All of this is being illuminated by the light of the christmas tree and the big freaking 85 inches tv your dad insisted your family needed. This scene could be romantic if not were because you two are siblings.

"Why are you suddenly doing this?" This seems like too much coming from your sister. “What are you plotting?”

“Can you not be a prick for a moment?” Ryujin seems to be a little offended by your doubts, or maybe she’s acting up again. With her you never know. “Already said it. Just wanna have a nice christmas.”

“Ok, ok. Maybe the Christmas spirit possessed you or something. Can I pick the movie or have you already prepared that too?” You ask sitting in the blankets.

“No, you can’t.” Ryujin sits beside you and covers you two with one blanket. She puts a mug of hot chocolate in your hand and press play. Your sister had selected a romantic comedy. One of those movies that always happens in New York where a young couple inevitably falls in love, but at least it was a Christmas movie so that’s something.

The night was so relaxing and for the first time in months you were just there having a good time. The movie ended up being quite good and you were able to enjoy it, you two were having fun after all. You didn’t even notice how or when Ryujin hugged you, this time without trying to inappropriately touch you, or how she was feeding you with pieces of cookies by putting them directly in your mouth. So for almost two hours you and your sister were laying there enjoying the movie and having a lovely night. The fact that at times this seemed more like a date than two siblings watching a movie together flew over your head, you were completely blinded by enjoying the warmth of your sister hugging you instead of fighting with her.

By the time the movie credits appear on screen Ryujin had her head resting on your shoulder and you were petting her. This was maybe the first time you were like this in years; with no fights, no jokes, no sex, just both of you enjoying a lovely moment. But the spell broke once the movie came to at it inevitable end. That trance that blinded your eyes during the movie wasn’t present now and for the first time you were aware of Ryujin’s body pressing against yours in a tight hug.

“Was a good movie after all, but it is late now.” You broke the reigning silence in the room, and despiste your word you weren't sure if you wanna stop hugging your sister.

“Did you like it?” She asks with her head still on your shoulder. “Never thought my little loser was into that kind of movie.”

“I’m not into it, but this movie was good. And…” Suddenly the realization that she called you “My” hit you. “Why did you call me like that? I’m not yours. Why do you always call me loser?” Your arms are no longer surrounding her body.

“You have to ruin everything, right?” Ryujin pushed you and stood up. The blanket that was covering you fell to a side, the cold hit your bodies now since each other warm was missing. “You’re my brother and I’m the only one that calls you Loser. Can’t I show some love for you now?” This sudden change in her mood surprised you.

“Ok, just calm down.” You're standing too now. “Maybe I’m suspicious since you decided to give me a footjob in the dinner. Did you forget that?”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t enjoyed it.” Well she was right, once again. “You're always so happy to cum on me and then act like if I were using you or something.” To your surprise she pushed you. That caught you off guard causing you to fall into the couch.

“What’s wrong with you?” You quickly stand again and grab her hands when Ryujin tries to push you again. Despite being younger you were visibly taller and heavier than your sister so it wasn't too much difficult for you. “Seriously, what is happening with you?” Ryujin tried to escape from your grasp but you didn’t let her go anywhere. “The footjob, the present, the movie, and now this. Are you crazy or something?”

“Let me…” She finally can free herself, or maybe you let her go because you just noticed how tears were forming in her eyes. “ I’m just tired and really wanted to have a nice moment with someone that at least loved me in the past.” She was holding tears.

“Ryu…” You can control yourself and you surround her with your arms in a tight hug. “I still love you. You’re my sister. Yes, you’re annoying most of the time, but I still do love you.”

“Then why do you have to treat me like your sex toy?” She was sobbing now. “ Why can't you be gentle? Why at least you can’t be gentle with me?”

“Ryu, what’s happening.” You really don’t understand what’s happening here, what is this all about. “I don’t know. Maybe because you bully me when we fuck? But I like it, and… And… Maybe I don’t wanna admit that I enjoy fucking my sister.” This is really the first time you say that because it is truly the first time you two get remotely close to talk about this.

Ryujin tries to push you away but your hug is thigh. “Lier, you’re just like the others. You want me because you can fuck me everytime you want.”

“What? Nooo Ryu, no.” Seriously, this is going to a weird place. “Are the rumors true?”

“Yes, they are. I’m campus's easiest slut to fuck as everyone knows, even you had hear that.” She sobs loudly” I’m so tired of people faking that they are close to me because they wanna fuck me. I’m so tired of people trying to get me drunk because in that way is more easy to fuck me.” Your sister was losing the battle against tears because some had dropped over her cheeks. “I’m a person too. I’m capable of more things than getting my holes stuffed and moaning. I just can’t stop, I can’t feel ok if I'm not drunk or messing with you.”

“Ryu stop!” Maybe you said that a little louder than you should have. “What are you talking about?” Now you hold her face with one hand and dry her tears with the other. “You’re more than that to me. Remember, you're my sister. Don’t you remember who pulled me out of the lake that time I almost drowned when we were kids? Did you forget that time when I broke auntie’s Joohyun porcelain and you said that it was your fault so that they wouldn't scold me?” More tears came from your sister’s eyes when she heard your words. “Have you never noticed why I’m always studying so much? Is because of you. When I started college I wanted to have the same good grades as you because you're so smart. You don’t even need to study. Even now that you're drunk almost every weekend you still have good grades. How can you not see that I do care for you?”

“Lier…” Ryujin wasn’t fighting anymore. She was just there crying in silence, grabbing you tightly by your jacket.

“Ryu, please. I really enjoy our times together… I. “ This is something you don’t wanna admit, not even in your mind, but maybe this is the only moment you could do it. “You wanna know why I’m not getting laid? Isn’t because I’m a nerd or something, in fact some girls have asked me to go on dates with them but I can’t. They aren’t annoying like you, they aren’t as smart as you… I can’t go with them.” Yeah. Your relationship with your sister was really fucked up, and for the things you were saying this was a point from no return.

“You…” Her hands were shaking. “ You really mean it?” Even with the poor light you could see a bright in her eyes when she asked that, and wasn’t the bright of her tears.

“Yes, and you can call me your loser if you want.” Now Ryujin is the one who hugged you, hiding her head in your chest but never stop crying. “But please stop crying. We still can have a good night. We can watch another movie or somet…” You weren't able to finish what you were to say because Ryujin grabbed your face and kissed you.

Was a shy kiss, something different to everything you had ever had with her. Normally your kisses are dirty, furtive, charged with sexual tension and short. This was different, more needy for something that you can’t describe at the moment, but you were kissing her too. Her tears were wetting your face while your lips were dancing together. One of her hands was still holding tightly the side of your jacket.

After what you said, after what you admitted, this feels so different. Suddenly you're hungry for your sister, you want more from her but you remember what she said and don’t wanna break this moment. You seriously love her for more than her pussy, after all she’s your big sister, but now this kiss is doing things to you.

You don’t need to worry anymore for whatever you should do because it is Ryujin who hugs you by your neck and makes her body closer to yours. Since the blanket isn’t covering you anymore, the temperature on your bodies has started to drop, but this kiss is bringing up the thermometer. The kiss is becoming needy and her hands are playing in your neck.

You grab her by the waist , a shiver ran through her body when your hands meet her skin making her tremble for a moment. Ryujin broke the kiss panting for air. She’s not crying anymore, instead there is this new light in her eyes. Something has changed on her. You try to say something but she muted you with a quick kiss on your lips and start lifting your jacked. You help her to take off the garment and your shirt goes along with it. The cold of the winter didn’t bother you because Ryujin's hands are over your chest, you feel a strange warm coming from where she touch you and spreading across your entire body.

“Ryu…” But she muted you again with a kiss before taking a step back. Without taking her eyes from yours Ryujin opens her jacket, leaving her cape on, and lets it fall over the blanket on the floor. She’s not wearing lingerie or something fancy as someone would think, instead she’s wearing a normal bra like she would wear on a normal day. In some way you prefer it like this, but at least said garment is red, matching the thematic of her outfit.

She attempts to take off her thigh highs but you stop her. “No… leave the stockings… Please.” She says nothing but just takes off her miniskirt instead. Ok, she wasn’t wearing lingerie but her underwear matches, even when they were simple pieces they were matching. You found that a lovely gesture because you understand that you weren't meant to see that since she wanted to have just a nice moment with you instead of hooking up. So the makeup and all the prep was just for her to feel better and pretty.

Your sister looks beautiful standing on the blankets, wearing only her underwear and cape. To you, the light from the television and the twinkling lights from the tree don't do justice to her flawless skin. You wish this had been a moonlight night so she could be bathed for the silver light, but instead the snow is falling and pilling outside.

You both are nervous to make the first move, as if you were a couple having their first time instead of a pair of siblings that had known each other since forever. But it is Ryujin that finally reaches you first. She hugs you and soon her hands are playing with your neck again. You can help but find her lips and share a kiss, more passionate this time. Your hands wander across her skin, caressing her waist and tummy.

Despiste Ryujin exercising regularly, her body is not that toned. It's just on the verge between being fluffy and muscular, and you find that so attractive. You can see her biceps contract when she’s carrying something heavy, or punching you, but also can see her thighs jiggle when she walks around. Seeing your sister half naked like this is like a heavenly vision to you.

By this point you have been fucking around for almost two years, but you never have seen her completely naked. Well maybe that time when you ate her pussy from behind when she was about to take a shower. But that was just for a brief moment, nothing like this where she's yours to watch and touch, even when she isn’t completely naked. Your encounters are always fast, subtitles, hiding and trying not to make a noise so your parents can´t fin their children fucking. But here and now both of you know that you can give free rein to your darkest desires.

Ryujin again is the first to move and reach your waistband making you pant fall to your ankles. Your boxer does a miserable job at hiding the tent that formed where is your dick. But how not to be hard when you’re doing this with your beloved sister? It’s impossible not to.

“My little loser is already so excited.” Of course she has to make fun of you in a moment like this, can’t be in another way. “Let noona take care of you tonight.” She whispered that into your ear with her raspy deep voice, and made a shiver run through your spine. Or maybe it is because Ryujin is stroking your erection, and even when is covered with your boxer she still can feel your bulge throbbing in her hand when it is being inflated with blood.

You moan and kiss her again. Maybe the loudest moan you had ever allowed her to cause on you, but is quickly muted by the kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth and she accepts it, but she’s still the one that’s guiding the kiss. After all, your sister is the one with more experience here. You only have kissed a couple of girls before rejecting them, so your sister’s are the lips you have tasted the most.

She takes off your boxer too and you kick it away with the rest of your clothes. Now you're totally naked and in her hands to do whatever she wants. The imbalance of power is evident here but you don’t care, after all Ryujin said that she will take care of you and you believe in her. So the gentle push she gave you on your chest didn't take you off guard this time, but still made you fall into the couch.

“Shhhh.” She muted you by putting a finger over your lips when you opened your mouth to say something, and instead of letting you know what she was gonna do, Ryujin just knelt down between your legs. You knew what was coming by the way she was staring at your shaft with those feline eyes, as if a lion were stalking their prey. Ryujin wrapped her fingers around your erection once again and gave you gentle strokes, immediately a drop of precum forms on your tip.

You feel her tongue on your head collecting your precum, and her warm breath on your shaft. The view you have is amazing and your sister stares back at your eyes, looking to your soul, when she starts engulfing your tip and slowly but never stopping she swallows your meat till her lips touch her hand. A big portion of your erected shaft is in your sister’s mouth, and you feel so comfortable being surrounded by her warmth that you don't even bother on think that this is wrong.

And then, Ryujin starts sucking your dick, but again something feels different. This is not fast, she’s taking her time to give you an actual blowjob and not just some quick blows. She strokes you at a slow pace while her head is going up and dong on your dick, her tongue also is playing around your meat maximizing the pleasure you're receiving. As she said, your sister is taking care of you.

“Relax, loser.” Her voice is so calm, and despiste calling you names you know this time she isn’t making fun of you. All you can do is pet her head and caress her hair while she continues sucking your shaft. The feeling is so amazing, like no other head she has ever given you. Your dick feels so welcome inside her warm mouth.

Your sister doesn't go really deep, just swallowing half of your dick, but this still is so pleasant. Her tongue dances around your shaft in ways that you even knew were possible. That makes your breath heavy and by the look on her eyes she’s proud of that, she likes what she’s making you feel. But she still gives you more and the blowjob becomes messier and sloppy. Ryujin is now coating your shaft with her saliva.

When Ryujing takes your shaft out of her mouth it is so covered in her saliva that some drops fall into your balls. “Come here.” She makes space for you in the blankets beside her, and you let yourself slide from the couch to the floor. Your sister loses no time and sits on your lap, pressing her clothed core into your wet shaft.

She finds your lips again, and despite feeling your taste on her mouth you don’t wanna be kissing someone else. Your hands find her ass and knead her plump buttocks. A needy moan is released right into your mouth at the time your sister starts riding you, and her hands are cupping your face. The way she moves over you drives you crazy and makes her underwear wet, you can feel it even with your shaft coated in her saliva, so her pussy must be completely soaked by her own juices.

“Just let me…” Ryujin raised her body a little to slide her panties to the side, releasing her pussy from the embrace of the fabric. Then she aligns her glistening folds over your tip and descends slowly, taking your dick at a tortuous pace. “You feel soooo stretching me out.” Her voice is so low when she talks again, but you still can hear traces of her raspy tone on it. “You’re filling me so well, Loser.” She don’t move, instead Ryujin just kiss your face and plays with your hair. Right now she’s so far from being the bully and annoying sister that she has been this past years.

When Ryujin moves her hips again, you feel how her walls tighten around your throbbing shaft. That feels delicious, to say it in one way. Her warm wetness is surrounding your hard meat, and her lips are glued to yours in a passionate shared kiss. She rides you slowly, enjoying every movement and releasing waves of pleasure through your bodies.

Once again, as you have been so many times, you're so buried inside your sister’s cunt. But despite all the times you have done this, this time feels more pleasant. Like if you had unblocked a new level of passion between you two. Something that wasn't supposed to be archived by a pair of siblings. A bonding really forbidden.

You need more of her body, so your hands reach for the back of her bra, but you struggle to get it open. You haven’t done it enough times to memorize the process yet. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” The words are followed by a small giggle. “Another day I'll teach you to open it with just one hand.” Ryujin bites your lower lip and you get nervous causing your hands to slip from her bra. “Try it again.” Isn’t a order, is most like a petition. “Take off noona’s bra. I want my tiddies sucked.” You finally get the strength and concentration to get the damn clasp of her bra open. She laughs amused and throw her bra way, finally releasing her breasts.

Her tiddies aren’t big, but are big enough to fill your hands. Her nipples feel so stuffed and you caressing them makes them harder. But regardless of the fact that this feels amazing, this isn’t what your sister said she wants. She was clear on her petition, she wants her tiddies sucked and you’re no one to refuse it.

As soon as your mouth meets her right tit you feel how Ryujin’s arch her back. By pure instinct your tongue is playing with her hard nipple, and by the moans she’s releasing you think you’re doing good. Your other hand is on her left breast, playing with it as well. Ryujin practically huge your head holding you in place, so you can’t stop sucking her tits, and you do as you were told. From time to time you change what of her tiddies is on your mouth and what is being caressed by your hand, but you never stop sucking and your sister never stops riding you.

Her movements are now faster and messier. You feel her wetness around you and how her walls embrace your throbbing shaft. The way she makes you feels is so amazing, never ever before fucking your sister has been so pleasant. Apparently she’s having a good time too, because her moans never stop. In fact, they are just becoming louder as she rides you and you play with her tits.

“You're making noona feel so good.” You didn’t need a confirmation because you already could feel it, but her words are well received. The way she’s moaning, the way you make your sister moan and shiver in pleasure make you feel proud. Despite not being experienced you still can make Ryujin have a good time, and not one of those furtive hook ups you have been having.

“God, those batches don’t know what they’re missing.” Ryujin manages to say between her moans and whimpers. “My little brother's cock feels so good inside me.” Her dirty but affirmative words toward you make your dick throb inside her.

You redoubles your attacks over her tiddies, sucking and kissing. Rolling her nipples between your fingers and covering them in saliva with your mouth.

“You want noona to cum over you? To mark you?” You can’t respond because your mouth is busy sucking her left tiddie, but you can suck harder to let her know you want her to reach her orgasm over you, in your arms. Apparently the massage is well received because she changes the pace of her hips.

Now your sister’s movements are slower but conscious, she’s never breaking the pace. Also she’s taking you as deep as she can every time your hips meet, making your shaft completely disappear inside her.

Despite being a cold Christmas night, with snow falling and all, your bodies are warming each other to the point you feel no cold. Plus this is so pleasant that nobody could focus on feeling cold when you have your beautiful sister riding your cock.

“This feel good? Noona is taking good care of you?” She kisses your forehead in a gesture that's way too romantic for the situation, but honestly you don't care anymore. What's the point on denying that you aren't just fucking but you're making love with your sister? There is no worse blind than the one who doesn't want to see, they say. And maybe it is time to open your eyes and accept those feelings. No matter how twisted they are.

Maybe Ryujin needs someone that actually loves and takes care of her too, instead of just wanting to stuff her holes. And maybe you can be that person, or at least you can be there for her till she finds someone. But honestly, who can be better for her than you?

“My little loser is making noona feel so good.” The control she has over her voice even when is so close to orgasm is amazing. You feel how messy and fast her movements are, but nothing of that can be spotted on her voice. She sounds calm, with her deep raspy voice doing things to you. Making you throb inside of her as if you have a second heart down there.

Finally the wetness of her core drench your balls letting you know she reached the precious climax. But not just that, because you can hear how your sister is moaning right into your ear. Ryujin is still riding you, slowly decreasing her pace till she’s sitting in your lap, with your shaft buried inside her.

She’s practically panting because she did almost all the effort, but hair isn’t what she needs now. All your sister can think is on finding your lips and sharing one of those passionate kisses with you. Ryujin is holding your face, not forcing you but not wanting you to go. She doesn't need hair because she can have that anytime, all she needs now is the only person that doesn't see her as a slut.

Time gets blurry when you are passionately kissing your sister like that. Hungry but also slowly, in a way you have never felt before. No girl’s lips made you feel like this before, is a new hunger that you just found and don’t know if it is right that you are satisfying it. This gluttony may be a capital sin.

“That was good.” Ryujin said before kissing your forehead again and playing with your hair. “Best orgasm I’ve had in a long time.” Your sister hugs you seeking for your body heat on this cold winter night. You are just there, laying on the floor with your sister hiding from the world under her christmas cape and between your arms.

“What about me having an orgasm too?”

“Don’t know if you deserve one.” Her head is resting on your shoulder. “It's your punishment for making me cry.”

“I thought I made you cry with pleasure.” You joke while lovely petting her black hair, as if your balls were not coated on sex fluids for the second time that night. All your sister’s fault.

“Don’t be that bold, Loser. You are still not that capable. But…” She pauses to ponder whether she should say the following or not. “Maybe noona can give you another lesson. Another Christmas gift.” She said before kissing your jaw and asking with a whisper right into your ear. “Wanna be a big boy and fuck noona in the ass?”

#itzy x reader #itzy smut #ryujin smut #ryujin #shin ryujin #gg smut #kpop smut #itzy #fanfic

294 notes · View notes

valalice · 1 day ago

Text

ᥫ᭡ slice of life or a look into moments of your relationship, and this is the one where you bake cait a cake for her birthday.

cw. pure tooth rooting fluff. smidge of angst. fem!reader. established relationship. cait turns 24 in this. reader is said to be shorter than cait. mentions of cassandra. cait calls reader darling. it gets gushy mushy.

“those eyes better be closed, kiramman!” you hollard, from deep within the kitchen, lighter in hand as you light the candle shaped two then the one shaped four. you’d thought to put twenty-four individual stick candles on the cake just to simply amuse (annoy) cait, but decided against it for her special day; you thought of something far better anyway.

“they are!” cait assured. the fluctuation in her accent when her voice raises anything above its usual silky smoothing tone tickles you. you’re so entertained by her accent even now as you giggle, fixing and turning the cake to make sure it’s perfect, it has to be perfect, for her.

cautiously you pick up the cake stand with both hands, feeling confident enough you balance it in one hand, so you're able to shut off the kitchen light. “alright, i’m coming out. no peeking.” feet carefully shuffling out of the kitchen to the dining room where cait resides, a hand covering the candles from any mystery gust of wind that may feel mischievous enough to attempt to blow out the candles.

“still closed.” the blue haired woman huffs. you lift your gaze from straining your eyes to focus on the cake, making sure that it’s okay, and you’re not disappointed when you do. because there sits caitlyn kiramman, head of house kiramman sitting in the head dining chair looking like a small child with her hands covering her eyes, it’s a sight cute sight to behold and cherish it, eternally grateful that you’re able to witness this of your girlfriend.

reaching the table, the cake stand hits the wooden surface with a soft click, twisting the stand so it’s facing the right way at her. “don’t open yet.” you muttered, standing up straight to rush back to the kitchen to grab the lighter off the counter, deciding to ignore cait’s obvious groans of complaints for the wait; she’s never been, and never will be, a patient person. hopping from area to area where you have various candles littered around to light them, content when they all lit. flicking off the light switch, the soft candle lights turning the room to amber, you’re absorbed by the home-y atmosphere of the room, or as home-y as a generationally passed down mansion can be, but in this moment all you can feel is the whimsey swirl of love flowing through the room.

“can i open my eyes now?” cait questions, you smile at her, the question held an air of light optimism and eagerness. you take post next to her again, bending down and fixing the cake once more, so when she opens her eyes she’s met with the desert you slaved over all yesterday. “darling? i know you’re there, i can smell your perfume.” cautious hands reach out to feel for your body, a little "hmph" coming from caitlyn when she’s confirmed her words, hands ghosting over your waist. a breathy laugh leaves you, she’s caught you, you suppose.

swiftly standing up, the hands on your waist readjust around you, pulling you closer to her seated form, the meat of your thigh closest to the chair pressing against the armrest; and you allow her to manipulate your body, a hand moving from your side to hand her shoulders before smoothing down her back, comforting act you know too well to do.

“you can open your eyes now.” you instruct, there’s a ball lodged in your throat waiting to drop to the pit of your stomach as you fix your attention to watch caitlyn’s expression. your free hand subconsciously wiping down your leg, waiting, not used to be taller than her in most scenarios, so now as you hover above her it's hard to read her. but what you do know is that she's remained unmoved.

there's a jerk in her body before she shifts her body to face you, head peering up at you, her face contorted. "you did this for me?" she chokes out, tears prickling to fall from her eye.

the ball drops and it hits your stomach, hard. you start to feel sick, physically pained to hear the strained emphasis on "me" talking down on herself as if she's unworthy, sinking to your knees, now you're the one looking up to caitlyn; like normally. "oh, cait. what do you mean, for you?" your brows furrow, a hand reaching to soothe and caress cait's cheek. had you done something to upset her?

she turns back to eye the cake, it's the most precious gift you've given to her all day she thinks, all of its homemade imperfections and quirks included. "the cake—" turning back back to you, taking in your worried expression that never left your face even when she turned away from you, she looks down at the hand that had fallen in her lap when she did so, taking it in her embrace. "it's so stupidly hard to make. and you made it for me." she explains, a small laugh of disbelief and awe coming from her lips.

your eyes widen, a smile curling your lips upward. she's right, the cake you made her was hard. spending weeks testing out different recipes, ultimately mashing them all to together to create the perfect balance of airy white cake layers, sweet but not too sweet icing, the right consistency of custard, and the best strawberries from the market to sprinkle throughout the layers and decorate with; a fairly simple cake, but each separate component needed to cohesively work together to create an explosion of delicate flavors in your mouth, too much of one would throw it off, and you know cait's refined taste for less sweet lighter desserts. but even when you dedicated much of your time to her cake you kept telling yourself, she deserves this over in your head, and now, you still stand true to that.

"it's your favorite." tilting your head to the side, raising a hand to tuck some of caitlyn's cascading dark blue hair curtaining around her face behind an ear, you want to see more of her, all of her. her cerulean eyes bore down at you, the candle light that illuminates the room softens them. "you didn't need to, i would've gratefully taken a box cake."

you're smile grows, because you know her words are true, she appreciates everything you do, small or big. and you're confident you were capable of turning a box cake into something just as good as the cake in front of cait, but it was the want, the desire to give something that you knew cait loved, even if it was just a cake. with everything that's happened; the loss of her mother and the loss of her eye, you wanted her to indulge in her childhood favorite dessert.

“i wanted to wanted to make you this cake, you deserve this cake.” you muse, squeezing the hand holding yours to affirm your reassurance of your actions.

cait squeezes your hand in return, her gaze fixed on watching her thumb rub circles on the back of your hand, the depth of your words seem to sink in, the true reason on why you’ve poured your all into her birthday, accounting for every down to the little minuscule details; this is far more than just a cake. she doesn’t even remember telling you her favorite cake, and she prides herself on her sharp memory; it must’ve been her father, or perhaps her mother who had said it in passing, and you remembered it. of course you did. when she gazes back to you, you’re already looking at her, she feels warm. maybe it’s all the candles you lit, maybe it’s the way you look at her the same way, always adoringly, like she herself had been the one to paint the night sky with all the stars, you always manage to cross all her bounds and break all her strategically placed bricks that's supposed to make her indestructible and make her all flustered, even if you’re unaware to your effect. but, now? she’s positive she’s the one admiring you, from where you’re sat, legs kicked underneath on the wood floor (she’s sure your legs numb, but she also knows you wouldn’t complain nor move from your spot next to her) there’s a long cabinet dressed with running and decorated with flowing candle flames, creating a warm aura around you that made you look like her own angel sent to her. in this moment she’s able to fall in love with you all over again, and hopes, knows that she’ll keep doing so.

gripping the hand in her grasp one last time before pulling you into her, the hand following up your arm to yank you even closer till her free hand settles on your cheek and your lips touch in a passionate kiss. your own hands coming to grasp at her face, body lifting off your heels to kneel into the kiss, her hand falling from your arm to wrap around your waist. when you two disconnect you still embrace caitlyn, “blow out your candles.” you whisper, so close still your lips touch when you talk.

“as you wish, darling.” barely leaning into you to give you another kiss. “but,”

“but?” you question, quirking an eyebrow.

a cheeky grin sneaks its way onto her lips. “i would like you in my lap.”

“cait—”

“it’s my birthday. for the birthday girl?” she quipped, the fingers around your waist prods at it, waiting for your response, although she already knows the answer with the way her grin grew and her gap is now on full display. you sigh, and the arm around your waist frees you, standing up you stand, hands on your hips staring at cait’s proud expression.

“alright birthday girl, make room.” she’s got you beat using that excuse on you.

she scoots her chair out, the screech that would’ve been loud from the wood chair legs on the wood floor is muffled from the persian rug beneath the table, her hands working quick to pull you into your lap. allowing you to settle, perching her head on your shoulder. “better.” she muses.

“now can you?”

“i can.” she shuffles just a bit, gathering enough air to blow out her candles.

and with a big huff. . . the candles don’t go out?

caitlyn sucks in more air, attempting again just for the same thing to happen, the flames still burn.

“what did you do?” caitlyn quizzed, more confused than ever on why her candles won’t flatter.

“i didn’t do anything.” you respond cooley, shrugging your shoulders, but it takes everything in you to not burst in a fit of laughter.

“you did.” her fingers press into your sides. “i’ll tickle you.” she threatens, and it holds weight.

you fit your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing. turning your head over your shoulder to face her, contemplating if your should tell her flat out or keep the act up. you release your lip, “they’re joke candles.”

“joke candles?” cait repeats, her voice pitching, taking in the absurd concept of joke candles. “i’ll show you a joke.” nimble fingers move across your sides.

“no, please. mercy.” you beg, wheezing out a laugh in the process.

“not a chance. should’ve thought before you placed these silly candles on my cake.” not letting up on the attack of tickles she’s giving to you.

#𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 alice writes.#caitlynྀི txt.#arcane #arcane x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn kiramman x fem reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman fluff #league of legends #wlw #lesbian

238 notes · View notes

loves-alibi · 2 days ago

Text

something bad

dark!141 x reader

original post

summary: There’s something wrong with the 141…

1.6k words

warnings: implied cannibalism, violence, blood, reader gets hurt, reader is implied to be smaller than simon

***

You’re not there for the op– out on the basis of a nick to your side. Not really a nick– but rather a 3 inch blade you hadn't seen before it was hilt-deep in you.

Kate calls you in the night. You're still not well. The stitches are out but you're not ready to be in. The wound aches and burns and keeps you up at night. You consider it a blessing tonight. On account of the throbbing, you're awake when Kate calls. She doesn't mince her words.

They've gone dark.

Are they supposed to?

No.

You're on base in less than an hour. They refuse to send you after them. Hell, they don't even allow you to go in uniform. Too official for someone who’s supposed to be resting. This is on a need-to-know basis, Kate says, and you need-to-know.

Siberia in December. You’re nauseous just thinking about it. Guilt, you think. You were supposed to be on that op, leading a platoon of non-141 soldiers. You should have been there, maybe things would have gone differently.

It takes thirty-seven days on base to track them down, on top of the fourteen that they were missing before Kate called.

You’re cleared by medical by the time the big day comes, yet Kate doesn’t let you join the rescue team. She says that the op needs a level-head. So you wait on the tarmac, arms crossed over your chest to stop the trembling of your hands. You squint up at the sky for hours waiting for the silhouette of their plane to finally appear. Eventually, it does.

You’re off before the engines stop chugging, running as fast as your legs will carry you to the lowering ramp. Please be alive, please be alive, please, oh please be–

They’re not just alive. They’re… statuesque. There’s no other way to describe it, but John, Simon, Kyle, and Johnny– each of them look better than when you saw them last. Warm skin and full cheeks. Your eyes are more sunken from this last month and a half than theirs. You’re so happy to see them alive that you don’t bother to wonder how.

The boys are kept in medical for a few more days. Something about hypothermia and wanting to monitor their vitals for longer. You don’t get it. Their vitals are strong, stronger than yours have ever been. But the doctors know best.

You visit them every day, spend your breaks by their sides. None of them talk much about Siberia, an eerie silence falling over the room every time you try to bring it up.

In the time you spend outside of the medical ward, you hear whispers. People look at you out of the corner of their eyes, lowering their voice to make sure you can’t make out what it is that they’re saying.

It isn’t until you’re in the mess hall one day, when a dumbass private who doesn’t know who you are tries to impress you.

“Did you hear about the 141?” He asks, a mischievous smirk across his face. “My mate was on the rescue team– said they found bones with scratches on them. No flesh, no blood, nothing left.”

Unfortunately for the private, you’re running his drills that afternoon. You make him and all of his meathead friends who bought all that nonsense run until they collapse. They call you a bitch when they think you’re out of earshot. You ought to give them another lap– another ten –but you can’t. You’re too deep in thought– images of bones, scratched up and licked clean–

No. Not licked clean. Decomposed, you tell yourself despite the nagging voice in the back of your mind saying that the Siberian winter would certainly slow down decomposition.

The nagging is over quickly, when the next afternoon, the boys are let out of medical. They hop right back into work. Meetings, paperwork, and training.

The day after their release, you join them at the gym. You don’t expect much, maybe some light lifting and cardio on their end, but you’re dead wrong.

Johnny’s on the bench. Kyle, Simon, and John watch from a few feet away. There are more plates on the barbell than you’ve ever seen. You don’t even need to count to know that there’s about three hundred pounds looming over Johnny. Johnny’s always been strong, but even he’s never benched that much weight before.

But he clears it.

One rep. Two reps. Three reps. All without breaking a sweat.

He stops when they realize you’ve entered. Nobody addresses Johnny’s newfound hulkishness. Instead, John clasps his hands together and suggests some friendly sparring.

Sure. You could do that. It’ll do everyone good. The whole team is out of practice, so when John calls you and Simon up first, you don’t blink an eye.

However, it quickly becomes evident that something’s not right. Simon’s always been strong. He’s nearly six and a half feet of pure muscle and rage. It’s a well-known fact that sparring with him will always end in a victory for him.

Against an opponent of his mass, agility is your strength. Where he’s poised to use brute strength, you can duck and weave. It’s enough to throw him off guard enough to delay the inevitable.

But now? You can’t keep up. It’s as though Simon is predicting your every move. Moves that once would make him flustered don’t

You’re thrown to the ground face first. You’re waiting for John to call the spar. You lift your head to look at your captain, but his face is a blank slate. No, not entirely blank, his eyes are sharp, observant. It’s not just him. Kyle and Johnny are right at their captain’s side, breathing heavily. Kyle’s canines tug at his bottom lip.

“Call it,” you groan. Something warm trickles down your nose and into your open mouth. The taste of iron explodes across your tongue. A heavy weight looms over your back. “John, call it!”

“Missed you,” Simon whispers. His breath burns the skin of your ear. “Smell good, so good.”

Something touches the back of your neck, wet and warm. It feels like a tongue, you think, before realizing that it is– Simon’s tongue. He groans as he licks a stripe down the length of your neck and to your shoulder where you’re met with the stinging sensation of teeth sinking down into flesh. Hard enough to sting, but tender enough not to break skin. Yet.

“John–” It comes out breathy and high pitched. “For fuck’s sake–”

“That’s enough.”

In the blink of an eye, Simon is gone and you’re hoisted up by John’s strong arm. He takes you to a bench tucked away in the corner of the room, though not away from the prying eyes of your fellow sargeants, now watching you with parted lips. Simon’s nowhere to be found.

Simon, who had just cornered you and pinned you unlike anything you’ve seen before. It was animalistic, like you were his prey. For the first time ever you found yourself afraid of what Simon could– would –do to you.

John reappears with a rag and a water bottle. He soaks the rag and hands you the water. You lean back to down the water. It’s a mistake, you realize as blood drips down the back of your throat. You were so out of it you hadn’t realized that your nose is still bleeding.

“Look here,” John grunts. He peers in your eyes and grunts again. “No concussion.” One hand comes to pinch your nose as the other uses the rag to clean up the blood. “Nose isn’t broken.”

You hum, eyes fixated on John. He seems so calm, like he hadn’t just watched his lieutenant go utterly ballistic on you and–

You shudder, remembering the feeling of Simon’s tongue on your skin, his teeth in your–

“You’re alright, sergeant?” John asks.

You consider lying, but John’s looking at you like he already knows what you’re going to say. “I just–” You stumble over your words, “Simon… He was so– I don’t know how to describe it –unlike himself? Did it seem weird to you?”

“No.”

You frown. “John, I’ve sparred with him before. It’s never been like that. It felt unnatural.”

John swipes the rag over your lips. “You’re just out of practice from the nick.” John takes his hand off your nose and lets it slide down your body. It toys with the hem of your shirt for only a moment before creeping up your side and to the healed wound. His touch is muted by the thick scar tissue, but that doesn’t stop heat from exploding throughout your body. “How is it, anyways?”

It’s undignified the way you lose focus. John’s so close to you, having moved in closer to feel the scar. He’s tracing it, fingers half on the wound, half on the sensitive skin over your ribs. “Good,” you whisper.

“Good,” John repeats.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You try to turn around but John tightens his grip on you.

“We’ll take the rag if you’re done.” Kyle. And you assume by the sound of shuffling feet that accompanies him, Johnny as well. John hands them the rag with a nod.

The sound of footsteps fade, but before they're entirely gone, you hear Kyle and Johnny bickering about first dibs. It curdles something in your stomach.

Your heart is racing so close to John. Everything instinct screams to get away, but you simply can’t. At least, not yet.

“John,” you ask. “What happened in Siberia?”

John smiles. He removes his hand from your side and brings it back to your face. Your nose is bleeding again. A much calmer drip than earlier. John brings a thumb to the stream and swipes it away.

“We survived,” he says. “Isn’t that enough?” John pops his bloody thumb into his mouth and smiles.

#poly!141 x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic

151 notes · View notes

sigweiner · 2 days ago

Text

⌁₊˚ Shiver ˚₊⌁ {P2}

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!/Gnc!/Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You seek advice with an acquaintance before 'reconciling' with Jinx on Silco's office desk. Bonus fluff with Isha in the end.

Warnings!: fluff, smut, swearing, angst, t06!c relationship, substance use, mentions of dark ses and physical stuff.

a/n: I'm working on part 3 and 4 bc I had so much fun writing this. Also, I appreciate everyone that interacts with my posts ♡. English is not my first language, sorry for the weird punctuation and sentences. Minors and creeps dni.

{P1}, {P3} on the works

You haven't shown up at the hideout in a week. You've been staying at different places every day since that night as to prevent Jinx from tracking you down, even though you didn't believe she would try to since you were a major jerk to her after what was probably her first time with someone ever. You’ve been punishing yourself for that too even though you weren’t entirely sure you were her first. You’ve been drinking yourself to sleep every night since then. The irony in this whole situation is that that party was supposed to cheer you up and bring you out of gloomsville but it only managed to sink you further into a dark hole.

Maybe you should apologize and try to understand what really happened, but you’re pretty sure she’ll try to blow your head off after psychologically torturing you but at the same time you can’t keep up like this, it’s exhausting. So you think of the only person you know with a semblance of knowledge and that you can go fish for advice. Getting up from the dirty floor you slept on, you throw on your hooded cloak to go meet her and start to move through the shadows of the dirty zaunite streets without being noticed by anybody until you reach an alley where three people are sitting around a wooden crate, drinking, smoking and playing cards.

Sevika has a cigarette in her mouth and grins wickedly at the hand she’s been dealt. You try to figure out a way to alert her of your presence but in no time she’s throwing cards on the table and collecting her winnings for the night. She doesn't linger so you follow her around the maze of streets and alleyways. She keeps looking back, checking if anybody is following her, her instincts probably warning her that someone actually is. She stops to light another cigar and rests her back on a nearby wall so you take the opportunity to come out of the shadows, appearing in front of her.

“Damn, you look like death itself.” She says with a raised eyebrow. “Came to finish the job after all?” But there’s no real concern to her voice.

“Can we um… talk?” You ask, uncertain about how you’re going to bring this about with Sevika, of all people.

“Talk? You sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?” She lets out a dark chuckle and you roll your eyes at her reaction, she wasn’t about to make this easy for you.

“Yeah… have you uh… seen Jinx lately?” You hate how insecure you sound, being this vulnerable is making you want to give up and bolt.

“Jinx huh? Aren’t you two practically glued to each other?” She asks with an amused smirk on her face.

“We had a fight. No, actually I fucked up…” You say looking down at the floor. Sevika lets out a laugh.

“Well that’s not unheard of coming from you.” She teases. You sigh heavily and shake your head but you kind of deserve it. “She’s been looking for you, y’know?” Sevika says seriously now. You look up at her surprised to hear this piece of information.

“Really? Is she still mad? Do you think I should go back to the hideout?” You blurt out, hope growing in your chest.

“Slow down kid. Listen, I'm not gonna tell you what to do. Especially because I don't give a damn about your little lovers quarrel.” She starts explaining her line of thought before taking a break to puff out her cigar. “What I'm going to tell you is this: that crazy girl is obsessed with you and that kid. She's been nagging me about helping her find you this entire week. Which I don't appreciate one bit. So for the sake of my sanity and both of your safety, you should go and take care of this.” She finishes with an annoyed look but you appreciate her words greatly.

“We're not lov-” You star to retort but she gives you a death glare which makes you halt. “Okay fine, I’ll take care of it.” You tell her earnestly.

“Good.” She pushes herself off of the wall and throws the remains of her cigar on the floor. “Now fuck off, Shiv.” That's the first time you ever hear her call you by your alias which brings you a sense of respect. You chuckle, starting to disappear in the shadows.

“Thanks, Sevika.” Your disembodied voice reverberates through the empty alley.

“Tsk, creepy kid.” Is the last thing you hear her say from a distance before you turn around the next corner.

The familiar feeling of fear burns inside your chest when you reach Jinx’s hideout but you find it eerily quiet and still. There's no sign of the blue haired girl but you spot Isha snoozing peacefully on the orange couch. You approach her silently to move some hair off her face and kiss her forehead gently. She stirs a bit but doesn't wake up and you take a moment to just admire her easy slumber.

You're glad at least little Isha is safe and unbothered by this whole ordeal between you and Jinx, although you did cause more instability by leaving unexpectedly. She is the better part between the three of you and not being around her just made everything worse. You wonder if she even missed you because you’ve definitely missed hanging out with her. Before you leave, you cover her little figure with a blanket so she doesn't get cold.

You rack your brain for places where Jinx might be. You check the nearby bathroom and the next door building's roof where you very probably took her virtue, but there was no sign of her. You try not to think of that night, her soft lips, the way she felt around your fingers or your stupid harsh words, but it was all still very vivid in your head.

You wish you could go back in time and do everything differently but there's no point in dwelling on that, you need to find her. So the next place you can think of is Silco’s old office, Jinx had dragged you there before to retrieve something from her secret stash when you were still her prisoner, so you try to remember how to get there.

You move as fast as you can through the shadows but nights at Zaun were very much busy and filled with people, which makes you take longer than necessary just to avoid anyone. You finally manage to reach the abandoned office but you stop outside the door when you hear her speaking softly, then angrily, seemingly trying to process a lot of different emotions.

You take a deep breath before quietly stepping in, careful not to make any noise and alert her to your presence, so you wait for the right opportunity. From where you're standing you can see pow-pow holstered on her hip and that she's wearing different clothes. Striped purple pants and a black crop top, which are certainly new. You wonder what happened to her old clothes.

When you step into the light after she finally gets quiet, she sees your reflection on the big round window in front of her. A bullet misses you by inches, leaving a cut on your cheek that draws some blood. You don't react, shit if she wants to shoot you right through your chest you would let her, that's how much you believe you need punishment for what you did. Jinx lets out an angry grunt and uses her superspeed to come halfway close to you when she suddenly stops to scream at the voices to shut up.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” She screams at you now. “You're MINE Shiv! Don't you fucking get it?! Why did you leave me?!” Her voice cracks in the end and she starts crying, body shaking as she starts to sob uncontrollably. You chance a step towards her but she shoots by your feet making you freeze again.

“I-I know, I fucked up big time, Jinx.” You tell her desperately, tears also running down your face. “Please forgive me. I'll do anything you want. I'll never run again, fuck you can lock me up in a cage again if you want, but please… I'm so sorry.” You beg, reaching a hand forward from where you're standing several feet away from her. She grabs the sides of her head and shakes it, trying to shut down the voices.

“You're sorry? How fucking dare you toy with my feelings like that?! I gave myself to you completely and you treat me like I'm some... animal you can chase away when you're done playing with it… you made me feel so good… called me princess and then treated me like I'm some just street trash…” She rants between sobs and your heart shatters in a million pieces.

“I know, I-I was a total asshole loser. I didn't know you had these feelings… I didn't know you were a… that that might have been your first… everything really. I mean, was it?” You need to know, damn if it’s true you would’ve done everything differently. She huffs angrily and turns away from you, hugging her middle as if trying to close herself from you.

“Does it matter now? You can’t change what happened.” She says with a shaky voice and zaps back to sit on the wooden desk, propping a foot on the swivel chair that once belonged to her father. Her shoulders are still shaking from crying but at least she’s not screaming anymore.

“I guess it doesn’t. But I wish I could’ve done things differently. If I had known about your feelings… I guess I shouldn’t have been so stubborn and ignored my own.” You slowly start to move closer to her when she puts her gun aside.

“Try asking next time.” She says, seeming exhausted. You manage to round the desk and stand in front of her. She glances at you, makeup all smeared underneath her eyes, and looks away. You want to reach out so badly and hold her in your arms, but you don’t want to trigger her any further.

“Okay, then. Do you… like me, Jinx? As more than friends or whatever we have going on, I mean.” You question her honestly. Your face burns furiously though, being this forward feels foreign to you.

“Yes dummy, I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” She finally looks at you and chuckles at your reaction. You’re completely dumbfounded, the look of shock on your face practically comical. What does she mean she’s in love with you? Your brain is trying hard to add two plus two but it takes you a minute.

“You - you’re in love with me?” You ask incredulously. Jinx nods timidly, her cheeks starting to blush a deep pink. “I uh… wow. I really wasn’t expecting that but... if I’m being honest with myself… I think I’ve been in love with you for a while too.” You manage to say before bursting into tears. Jinx reaches out an arm to you and you take her hand. She pulls you towards her, snuggling you between her legs and you practically melt into her, burying your face on her neck as she embraces you.

“Oh my silly Trinket.” She purrs against your hair. She moves a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other rubs circles on your back. You’re both still crying, the weight of all that was said and done falling upon you.

“I should- should be the one comforting you.” You say between sobs. “I’m so sorry, Jinx. I’ll never hurt you ever again.” You promise her, lifting up your head to look her in the eyes. She gives you a teary smile and caresses your cheek, making you lean into her touch.

“You better not.” She says, chuckling. “I don’t think I can survive another one of these.” She gestures between you two. You laugh timidly, wiping under your nose when she leans in to kiss your cheek, the one cut by her bullet. Your eyes flutter from feeling the softness of her lips on your skin and you instinctively rest your hands on her waist.

Jinx wipes your tears and blood gently and pulls you in for a tight hug, snaking her legs around your waist and laying her head on your chest, close to your fluttering heart. You cup the back of her neck to caress it lightly, goosebumps rising to the brush of your fingers. She lets out a heavy sigh and tightens her grip on you. You swear you could stay like this forever, having the heat of her body warm up your soul. And to think you almost gave this up because you couldn't let yourself be vulnerable.

“My chaos princess, I'm so lucky to be yours.” You say against the top of her head. She looks up at you with doey eyes before leaning in to kiss your lips. You sigh into the kiss and cup her face with shaky hands. Gods, how you missed the taste of her so you graze your tongue on her bottom lip seeking entrance and she lets you deepen the kiss.

Your tongues dance languidly against one another very unlike the first time you two kissed, no desperation or urgent desire motivating your actions, just simply wanting to memorize every stroke and every breath and every shiver elicited. You can't help but let out a moan when her hands run up your back, breaking the kiss. She takes the opportunity to kiss a path down your neck, dragging her teeth on the tender skin of your pulse point. You let out a quiet ‘fuck’ when she starts suckling a hickey on the curve between your neck and shoulder. Although you definitely don't mind being marked by her, you pull gently on one of her braids making her move away from your neck so you can kiss her senseless.

Jinx is utterly pliant to your desires and lets you guide her wherever you want, you don't quite remember her ever being this willing to let go of any control except for that fateful night you had her writhing underneath you. In no time your hands start to wander, desperate for a reminder of what her thighs feel like. They're still firm like you remember but only now there was too much clothing covering them. She tries to pull you closer, tightening the grip of her legs around your hips. You smile against her lips before grinding against her crotch, making her let out a delicious moan.

“Getting a little excited aren't we?” You say close to her ear. She whines, seemingly frustrated that you're talking and not kissing her.

“You haven't earned teasing privileges yet, Trinket.” She says with a cute pout on her face. “Now, why don't you make it up to me by making me feel real good, huh?” She says planting that damn attractive smirk on her face.

“Anything for you princess.” You mirror her expression before connecting your lips in a soaring kiss. She hums in approval then lets you explore her mouth with your soft tongue. You take this opportunity to run your hands up her stomach and towards her chest.

“I like these new clothes by the way.” You digress, running your index fingers through her side boobs. “Though I prefer you in way less clothing.” You lick her lips playfully and she chases after your mouth.

“Yeah, I've noticed.” She loops a finger through the hoop on your choker to pull you close to her mouth. “I’ve caught up staring before. Several times.” She whispers and you can't help but feel a little embarrassed by that.

“Fuck, was I that obvious?” You feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The blue haired girl kisses your face sweetly.

“Yeah, but lucky for you I was really into it.” She giggles before closing the gap between you. You grind against her again before pulling up her top, exposing her chest to your hungry fingers. She whimpers when you pinch at her pierced nipple and tries to seek more friction on her core with her lower body, making your own arousal pool inside your pants.

You part from her mouth to whisper a suggestion in her ear. “I want to try something, will you let me?” She nods her head positively so you kiss the skin behind her year before looking her in the eyes. “I want to taste you, princess.” You say watching her reaction. Her eyes grow wide and her face turns red but she gives you a quiet okay.

“We don't have to if you don't want to.” You reassure her but she shakes her head furiously before grabbing onto your chest harness with shaky hands.

“No, please I- I want to.” She says timidly but plants a soft kiss on your lips. You hold her face with one hand.

“Okay, but just so you know, we can stop anytime you want, yeah?” You want to make sure she feels comfortable every step of the way. She nods again and it's your turn to kiss her tenderly.

You start to venerate her body by kissing down her neck, leaving a couple of bruises on her throat before showering her chest with attention. You loved on her small perky breasts, licking and biting her hardened nipples until she was a panting mess. Then you move to her stomach and her waist covered with the cloud tattoo you loved so much, not missing the opportunity to leave a few markings next to the line of her pants. You chance a glance up at her and you're met with a sight you wish you never forget. She has a frown between her eyebrows, her cheeks are flushed red and her lips are swollen from your kisses.

You untangle her legs from around you then lower yourself on your knees before hooking your fingers on the hem of her pants. “You okay over there?” You ask with an innocent smile. She lets out a frustrated whine.

“Fuck Y/N, please just take them off already.” She says impatiently. You chuckle but obey anyway, pulling down the offending clothes down her legs, boots going with it in the process.

You kiss her left feet and up her leg before reaching the inside of her thighs. Jinx is already trembling when you spread her legs further, entirely exposing her to you. Your mouth waters at what you find, her wetness already running down her inner thigh, engorged clit pulsating with want and outer lips are puffy from all the blood concentrated on her core. You snake your arms around her thighs and you pull her closer to the edge of the desk. She has a death grip on it, knuckles turning pale already.

“Can you hold my hair up for me, princess?” You ask politely, laying a kiss on her pubic mound. She complies and you feel her grip tighten when you lick a firm path through her pussy.

“Hoooly fuck.” She says, rolling her eyes inside her skull and dropping her head back. You smile at her reaction and continue slowly lapping at her with a firm tongue.

“You're so hot.” You tell her when you take a break to part her folds with two fingers.

“You should see yourself.” She replies, running her thumb through your jaw till it reaches your lips.

You open your mouth to expose your tongue to her, making her slide her finger on it. You smirk before wrapping your lips around it and start sucking and moving your head back and forth to cover the whole length of it with your saliva. She just looks at you, hypnotised. You take her hand, releasing her thumb with a pop, then guide it towards her own chest, smearing your saliva on her pierced nipple. “Shit, I'm gonna lose the rest of my sanity if you keep up like this.” She tells you in awe, pupils completely blown with desire.

“I definitely don't mind.” You chuckle before returning your attention to her dripping center. You massage her clit between your digits before pulling up its hood and wrapping your lips around it to give it gentle sucks. Above you, Jinx lets out an obscene moan that reverberates through your own body, making you moan against her as well.

“Oh fuck, I'm gonna - fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't hold-” She mumbles incoherently, unintentionally pulling on your hair so tight you let out a whimper against her. You let go of her protruding bud before she reaches her peak, making her protest with an impatient whine and she tries to force you back where she needs you by pushing your head forward but you diverge your face towards her inner thigh, biting down at it. She lets out a cry that sounds more like a moan so you soothe the bruise with your tongue.

“Be patient, princess.” You tell her before flicking your tongue lightly on her clit. She squirms and tries to close her legs involuntarily.

“Hah that tickles.” The feather-like sensation making her finicky.

“Humm. Do you prefer it more like this?” You apply more pressure when you lick her this time and you see her eyes flutter at the sensation.

“Yeeah, that's better. Just like that.” She drops her head back once more, mouth agape but still managing to hold your hair away from your face with one hand.

She's a true vision from where you are kneeling between her legs and you realise how close you already feel to your own orgasm just by pleasuring her. So when you tease two fingers on her entrance you decide to slide your free hand inside your pants to take care of yourself. Jinx looks back at you starved when your digits reach the back of her wall and you notice she's fighting hard not to close her eyes so she can watch you satisfy yourself while you fuck her. You finally give her throbbing bud the attention it deserves by sucking hard on it.

It only takes a few pumps of your fingers inside her until she's reaching her orgasm, shaking so hard around your head you need to reach over to steady her. You help her ride her high but you've got no intention to slow down and stop. On the contrary, you fuck her harder and graze your teeth on her clit a few times, teasing it. She gasps and looks at you surprised but doesn't try to stop you. You catch her clit between your lips again when you return your hand to your center.

You want to make you both come together and it so happens when Jinx lets out a long moan and squirts all over your mouth and down your throat. Your eyes roll backwards at your own pleasure coating your hand with your ecstasy. You two moan in unison as you ride your fervor for a little longer before you release her clit and slowly remove your fingers from inside her. She collapses back on the desk, chest heaving, and you also try to steady your breathing.

“You okay over there, Jinxie?” You ask after a minute, worried you might have broken her.

“Better than okay.” She slurs her words, sounding drunk. You chuckle and try to get up but it seems your legs have turned to mush.

“Wanna give me a hand then?” You ask playfully. She sits up and looks down at you with amusement but as she takes in the state you're in, her eyes darken.

“Didn't expect you to be worse off than me.” She says half jokingly and offers you her hand. You reach to take it but before you can she grabs your wrist and starts cleaning your cum off of it. “Hmmm, as sweet as I dreamed you would be.” She says after finishing her handiwork. You feel like a deer caught in headlights.

She manages to lift you up to your feet and pulls you in for a passionate kiss, licking up all of her fluids from your face passionately. Her wandering hands find the swell of your ass and squeezes making you moan her name. You knew where this was going but you didn't know if you were ready yet for it to happen. Jinx starts kissing your jaw and down your throat when you hear someone entering the room suddenly.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sevika says in horror.

After having survived Sevika’s wrath in what you now know is her new office, you and Jinx return to the hideout separately so as not to attract attention to yourselves. When morning comes and Isha wakes up to the sight of you sleeping on a thin mattress next to the couch and Jinx hunched over her workstation, tinkering away at some random project, she lets out a confused sound. The kid sits up and removes the blanket from herself, wiping the sleep off of her eyes before crossing her arms on her chest with an angry look on her face.

As if sensing she is awake, you stir into consciousness and open one eye to chance a peek in her direction but your vision is still blurry from sleep so you lazily throw an arm in Isha’s direction only to feel your hand being swatted away. Oh boy, here we go again. You sigh deeply before sitting up as well and resting your forearm on the couch. Isha gestures to you that she's angry you left and that Jinx was really sad, completely out of control and even burned up her clothes while laughing maniacally at the flames.

“Burned her clothes?” You whisper back. The little kid nods positively and like a tough loving parent, she gestures and demands to know what happened. “I-I know, I screwed up big time. And um… I didn't think I deserved forgiveness, so I left.” You try to explain without getting into what actually happened.

She huffs and looks about as disappointed as you feel for having left her. “I'm sorry Isha. I shouldn't have left you and I couldn't stand being away from both of you so I came back. I'm not sure if Jinx has forgiven me entirely but if you can, that would mean the world to me.” A tear rolls down her cheek so you reach over to wipe it away and this time she doesn't reject you.

On the contrary, Isha lunges forward and throws her little arms around your neck, burying her face in your hair. You cradle her head and make soothing patterns on her back as she cries quietly, wishing you could take all her sadness away. “It's okay baby. I’m never leaving you again. I promise.” You reassure her.

There's suddenly a light weight hugging you both as Jinx decides to join in your little moment of reconciliation, probably having overheard what you said. “Yeah, I won't let it happen.” she says resolutely. You smile because even though the implications behind her words are very dark, your heart can't help but flutter at her pledge.

“I've forgiven you, y’know?” She whispers now into your ear. You turn to look at her with tears in your eyes as she backs away slightly. You want to kiss her so badly but at the same time you don't want Isha to feel weird about whatever you've got going on with Jinx.

However she is the one to take the first step and lean in to kiss your cheek. You don't understand how a simple act of affection can make your heart beat so fast and your face burn so hot when not long ago you were doing much more lewd things to her that elicited this same reaction. She smirks at your flustered expression but looks away when she realises Isha watched the whole scene unfold. The little girl looks between you two and mimics Jinx by planting a quick kiss on your other cheek.

“Hey! I'm not willing to share, kid.” Jinx protests but Isha only giggles and sneakily gives the blue haired girl's face a smooch before snaking her arms around both your necks to pull you into a group hug with a huge smile on her face.

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @cafekitsune.

#jinx x fem!reader #jinx league of legends #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx #lesbian #arcane #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #jinx fanfic

144 notes · View notes

flyzzle · 2 days ago

Text

Rose Lavillant re-redesign! Roses canon model always gives me chills to look at but I do believe she's cute in concept! I changed a lot about her but I think she still gives off the same cutesy vibes. Also pig tails for pigella I suppose. Rose was the first redesign I ever posted on here (which is now privated) and I still think it holds up to this day so I used the same pose and outfit for the drawing on the left! On the right, I made a new one that I think is soo adorable! In my opinion they should let rose be more fashionable. She's such a cutieeeeee

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fanart #miraculous #ml redesign #rose lavillant #rose lavillant redesign

71 notes · View notes

axolotl4days · 1 day ago

Text

Batman Dead Daughter AU part 2

I'm so sorry this took so long, I ment to post this like the day after the first one but I kept getting distracted and didn't have time to write it TwT

Anyways-

We are starting off with Damian after patrol and approaching Bruce

I also realized how my writing is a lot closer to script in the last one, especially with the dialog, and it's something I'll work on

Without further a due: Angst :D

Damian POV:

'This is really unordinary, first a new student in the middle of the year, who looks... similar to Father, but now she's hiding under a bridge? What is going on with that girl. Somethings not right, it's clear there's something she's not telling me, I should be angry, she could be some sort of threat. So why am i not? This isn't anger its.. something else. What even is this feeling? I feel like I know her. One things for certain, she needs help. Maybe I should speak to Father about this. He does have a habit of adopting children.' Damian thinks to himself as he removes his vigilante gear, he decides to approach Bruce and bring up his concerns

"Father." Damian says, commanding his attention away from the computer

"Damian. Is something wrong?" Bruce asks

"I'm not sure, it's about my new friend" Damian says

"Ah yes.... y/n correct?" Bruce asks but his voice waivers as he says her name

"Correct, father. I believe y/n may be in trouble of some kind. As you know she joined the school at an odd time, which is weird enough as it is. However, during patrol, I found her under a bridge. She claimed that she couldn't go home but wouldn't say why. And to make matters even more confusing, she didn't seem to know who I was." Damian explains

"What do you mean? Like she didn't know what a vigilante was? It's possible if she's new to Gotham, unlikely but possible." Bruce says

"No, she wasn't suprised, or confused, she acted as if meeting a vigilante were normal, but she didn't know my name, she seemed to know about vigilantes, but didn't know which one I was." He explained while gesturing to the cases of costumes throughout the years. "She also didn't have anything with her. When I found her, she only had her backpack with school supplies and a few clothes. No blankets or food items, nor any personal belongings. It seems like she hasn't been here for very long, but she's been attending school for a few weeks now." Damian says

Bruce pauses for a moment "That's... odd. Even if someone had recently become homeless, they would have more than just school supplies, especially if they've been living outside." Bruce says mostly to himself before turning back to his son "What are you thinking Damian?" Bruce asks

Damian remains silent for a while before responding, "With your permission, Father, I would like to invite her over after school tomorrow. Perhaps we could learn more then. I heard it's supposed to rain tomorrow as well, and I'd feel bad knowing my friend was out there getting sick." Damian states and waits for a response

"I see. Very well then, you may invite her over, I'll inform Alfred so he will make extra for dinner." Bruce says, calling Alfred in. "In the meantime, you need to turn in for the night, I'll speak with Alfred about tomorrow"

"Very well, goodnight father." Damian says, walking past Alfred

Bruce POV:

"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" Alfred asks having heard the conversation

Bruce doesn't speak for a moment, but eventually, he turns to face the loyal butler

"Alfred I... I don't want to get my hopes up. I know that it's probably just a coincidence, but... when you pick the two of them up tomorrow, I want you to call me immediately and let me know if it... if it's possible.. if it could be -"

"I will Master Bruce. I promise that the moment I am able to confirm, I will let you know." Alfred says

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce says, as he unlocks one of the drawers in his desk, and he pulls own a dusty photo and cleans it, the photo being a photo of him, and his long lost daughter smiling eating icecream

"I know it's... highly unlikely, but would you like me to prepare her favorite? Even if it's not her, I know that you enjoy the meal as well, and it's been awhile, it'd be nice to relive the good memories." Alfred suggests

"That... that would be nice Alfred, thank you." Bruce says before looking at the photo again and putting it away

The next day:

Damian was right, it is raining and by the looks of it, it'll be raining all day, the day begins the same as normal with Damian getting prepared for school, and packing a larger umbrella with him before heading down to breakfast where he finds two of his older brothers

Damian POV:

"Grayson, Drake" Damian greets them

"Hey kid, you got everything you need? It's raining cats and dogs out there" Dick says causing Damian to roll his eyes

"I'm well aware Grayson, I already knew this would happen so I prepared accordingly, even grabbing a larger umbrella to fit us" Damian replies

"Us? Who's us? We aren't going out today" Tim asks

"Us, as in me and my friend, I'm bringing her here after school today. I've already informed Father and Alfred. You two better not freak her out." Damian warns

"Woah, you're bringing a friend home? That's new" Dick says

"You have friends? Like. Real friends? From school?" Tim laughs

"Yes I have friends. What's with the laughter. And whats real friends supposed to mean" Damian snaps

"Well, considering your always calling people peasants it's surprising, not to mention it's someone who's not like us." Tim replies as if it's common knowledge

"What is that supposed to mean. Y/n doesn't have to be like us. We're friends, and that's that. Honestly, we're practically siblings. That's what the people at school say." Damian says. "Oh, and for your information, she may be in a tough situation right now. I don't yet know the details, but something is up, so when she gets here, you guys better not say anything suspicious, got it?" Damian basically orders before he walks away to head to school.

"Y/n? Huh..." Dick mutters to himself

"What is it? You know this person?" Tim asks

"No no it's just... I swear I've heard that name before." Dick says almost serious

At school, y/n pov:

'Okay, y/n, there's no need to panic just yet. No one's said anything, so he didn't tell anyone. What do I say if he brings it up? It happened while in the suit, so he probably won't approach it as himself, but what if he does? Or if he asks me about home? What do I do if he asks me about my parents? I need to think of a plan. Dad always has plans, but what do I even do? I can't just go up to the manor and explain who I am. It's been..' y/n pauses to do math but fails 'it's been an unknown amount of years, it's possible more things have changed than what I can tell. It's possible they won't even remember me, or they could think I was some sort of clone like in a Sci fi movie. I don't know anything for certain yet, so I have to play it safe... even if it hurts'

Y/n braces herself, thoughts of things that could go wrong still swirling about in her mind, but she can't think about that now, she has classes to attend.

Damian arrives to class and greets her like normal, she holds back her sigh of relief knowing that it's probably because it was 'Robin' that she talked to last night, she's seen her dad shift between personas before and if he learned from him then he won't mention a thing about what happened.

The two start talking about homework, which y/n suddenly realizes she didn't do, but before she can worry about it, the teacher speaks up

"Good morning class, today's going to be a bit different as we're starting a new project and for this you'll need to work in pairs, so before anything, everyone needs to go around and get into pairs and then when that's done I'll start handing out information on the project and explain what it is."

"Y/n? Would you like to work on this project together?" Damian asks

"Sure, we work together on some stuff already so this should be a peice of cake" y/n replies

"Perfect, we can work on it at my place after school as well, speaking of which, would you like to come over today? It's Friday, and I was thinking we could have a uh... sleepover. There's lots of stuff we could do, and it'll be easier to find time for the project that way and you could stay for the whole weekend" Damian asks, hoping to convince his friend without sounding weird. But he can't stand the idea of her being outside all weekend, especially with Gothams weather.

"Oh! Sure I would love to come over for a sleep over it sounds like a lotta fun!" Y/n replies, trying to hold back her excitement 'oh my god this works out perfectly. Now I can see what's changed, maybe I can talk to dad, I hope he's okay, this'll let me find out if he remembers me or not. I'll finally have Alfred's cooking again!' Y/n thinks to herself

"Good good, I'll have our bulter Pennyworth pick us up straight after school. We have a library in the manor so we don't need to use the schools library, oh and just a warning, my brothers are probably going to be at the manor as well, just ignore them, they're fools." Damian says

'There's more of them?!' Y/n thinks to herself, trying to hide her shock, but Damian notices anyways but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Alright class, now that everyone is partnered up I'll explain the project, this one will take a few weeks so listen up" the teacher says, gathering everyone's attention and explains the project

They spend the rest of class working on the project, writing notes, and during breaks they talk about what they're going to do at the manor, Damian discovers y/n knows even less movies than he does so they decide they could have a movie marathon when they first get there.

Before they know it, school is over and it's time to head out. Just as Damian said, Alfred comes to pick them up right after school, and parks somewhere where the rain isn't as intense.

"Hello Pennyworth, this is Y/n." Damian introduces the two noticing the pale look on Alfred's face just like he had when he first mentioned Y/n

"Hello, thank you for picking us up Alfred!" Y/n says, happy to see Alfred again after all this time, though a bit shocked to see how white his hair has gotten, but otherwise he looks the same. She too sees the pale in his face, but is still too nervous to say anything.

"Of course miss Y/n" He says, while getting into the car "If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make while we head to the manor, so I'll put the sound dividers up, in the mean time the two of you can pick what music you wish to listen to during the drive" Alfred says

"Alright, here y/n, we can listen to almost any song with this" Damian says

As the two begin to look through the music, Alfred sinks into the sea as he processes what he's seen. Could it really be Y/n?

Alfred pov:

He takes a moment to compose himself, he has a cold sweat, but he calms himself and calls Bruce

The phone feels like it rings forever before Bruce answers

"Hello Alfred, any news?" Bruce asks, for he was waiting for this call ever since Alfred left

"It's her Master Bruce. It has to be. She looks exactly the same as she did before. She sounds the same, too, I froze for a moment, but neither of them addressed it." Alfred says

"Are you sure? Did she say anything?" Bruce asks

"She didn't say much. However, when Damian introduced us, he referred to me as Pennyworth as he always does, yet Y/n referred to me as Alfred, regardless. Her eyes were unmistakable, even if it were someone who looked like her, those eyes, I would never forget them." Alfred says

"I see. Come get me once you arrive at the manor, we need to discuss how were going to go about this, see what she knows and confirm everything for sure." Bruce replies

"Of course Master Bruce, we'll be their shortly" Alfred informs him

The drive passes quickly and they arrive at the manor, quickly getting in as the rain pours harder and harder. Alfred takes their umbrellas and coats

"Alright, I have some business to attend to, but I shall make dinner shortly. Feel free to do whatever you wish in the meantime, but stick together, wouldn't want anyone to get lost." Alfred says side eyeing Y/n

"No need to worry, Pennyworth. I've memorized the layout of the manor. We will be heading to the theater first, you may find us there when dinner is ready." Damian states

"Wow, you weren't kidding, you actually brought a friend," two voices call out, causing Damian to scowl

"Grayson, Drake." Damian turns to the approaching duo."Y/n, these are my older brothers and nuecences. Who have apparently decided to bother us." Damian says

"Awe, don't be like that, Dames. we just wanna meet our baby brothers new... friend, " Dick says, meeting Y/n's gaze "Anyways- the names Dick Grayson, pleasure to meet you" he introduces himself before elbowing the boy next to him to stop his stareing

"Ow- oh uh, I'm Tim Drake. Sorry about Dick, it's not every day we meet a friend of the demons. Are you guys going to be working on something?" Tim asks

"Oh well, technically, we have a school project, but we have plenty of time to work on it, so we were going to have a um, 'movie marathon'" Y/n replies, unsure of how to react

"Yes, we plan to binge some movies that neither of us have seen before, I also wrote a list of other activities we could do, including but not limited to, various board games" Damian replies

"Wow, sounds like fun, maybe we'll pop in for a movie or two later on" Dick teases

"Grayson-" Damian hisses before being interupted

"Ahem, boys play nice, Master Dick and Master Tim, dinner will be ready in a few hours, I have some matters to attend to with Master Bruce, so please behave yourselves." Alfred states

"Alright, alright, we'll let the two of you go have fun, but don't think we won't drop by for some family board games." Dick says

Groaning, Damian leads Y/n towards the theater while Alfred heads to Bruce's office, leaving Dick and Tim alone

"...... So I'm not the only one who noticed she looks exactly like Bruce, right?" Dick asks

"No, no, you were not. How is this even possible she looks like she's Damian's age, so it's not like Bruce had another affair? But she looks so much like him it's kind of creepy, it could be another clone situation." Tim replies

"Makes Damians little comment about them being siblings earlier seem like it may not have been a joke" Dick says

"He didn't say anything about it, though. You'd think he'd have made all sorts of blood siblings comments by now." Tim says

"Yeah..." Dick says absentmindedly

"You good Dick?? You look like your thinking which is never a good thing" Tim jokes

"Ha ha, very funny. I'm fine. I was just. I feel like I've heard the name Y/n before but can't remember where, " Dick explains, and the two of them stand there for a moment before deciding to actually join movie night

With Alfred:

"Master Bruce?" Alfred approaches the office and lets himself in, noticing the papers all over the place, recognizing all of them

"Is it really possible? Even if it is her, how hasn't she grown up? She'd have been older than Dick by now. And if it is her, why didn't she come back? Why did it take until Damian invited her over for her to come here? Are we sure she even remembers us? What if it's some sick joke? What if some villain made a clone of her and sent her here to toy with me? What if -"

Before he could spiral any further, Alfred cuts him off

"Master Bruce. Calm down. I'm aware of how... odd this situation is, and there is much to discuss. However, I feel it would be best for you to speak to her yourself. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. She is her father's daughter, I'm sure she'll explain everything." Alfred says

"And what if she can't? What if it isn't really her and just a huge coincidence? What then? We would be back at Square one not knowing what happened to her or where to find her or-"

"You're doing it again Master Bruce. Please, go talk to her" Alfred says

"Alfred I- I don't know if I can. If I can face her. It's been so long I.." Bruce, finally looking away from his papers to look up at his butler

"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you as well. You... you don't have to see her just yet. You could wait for then to finish with a few of their movies and settle in before approaching. It'll give you some time to brace yourself as well." Alfred suggests

"That.. sounds like a plan Alfred, thank you." Bruce says

"Of course Master Bruce. I'll go ahead and start dinner now, it shouldnt take too long, so I'll fetch you when it's done, and we can go talk to her. And then have dinner afterward," Alfred replies

"Alright Alfred." Bruce says

After some time passes, the kids have watched around two and a half movies, they're in the middle of third when they hear footsteps approaching

Y/n Pov:

Y/n slightly tenses up. She knows those footsteps, even through the sound of the movie, she can hear them. Her father always taught her to notice the little things like that. The boys notice but don't think much of it until

"Ah, there you all are, Alfred told me you guys would be in here," Bruce's voice calls out as he walks over the greet the others, he looks more tense than usual, but he has been for the past few days it's probably case related the boys think

"Hello father, this is my friend y/n" Damian turns to look at Bruce who after making his way over to everyone finally lays his eyes on y/n, and he freezes

Dick and Tim don't say anything, both looking back and forth between Bruce and Y/n wide eyes, there is a long awkward silence before Damian decides to speak up

"Alright, what is with everyone today! I swear you have all been acting strange. It's not even that rare for me to have friends. If I knew you'd all act like this, I would've thought twice. Even you father, I can't believe it -" Damian starts to scold, but Y/n cuts him off

"It's okay, Damian, cut him some slack, it's not every day a dad sees his dead daughter again" Y/n says while putting a hand on Damians shoulder with wet eyes

"It really is you, Y/n..." Bruce says, tears forming in his eyes

"Hey, Dad... I'm back, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, and I know you probably have a lot of questions, but -" Before y/n can continue, Bruce pulls her into a hug, and the two let out their tears

The others can only stand there and watch as the two cry and apologize to another

"So, I'm all for new family members but what the hell is happening right now can anyone explain" Dick asks

"I agree with Grayson for once, what is going on?" Damian adds

"It's... a long story that we can discuss later. First things first." Bruce stands up but doesn't let go of Y/n almost like he's worried if he let's her go she'll disappear again."Right now, all that matters is that it's time for dinner. Alfred made your favorite Y/n, we weren't sure if it was really you but we wanted to hope it was." Bruce says and they all head to the dining room, still all in shock

They sit at the dinner table and-

"Wow Bruce, another kid? You seriously have a problem." A voice calls out causing the others to look at him and try to signal that it's not the time to say stuff like that

"Hello Jason, it's good to see you too. And for your information, this is Y/n, and technically, she was my first kid, " Bruce says. "Are you here for dinner?"

"Yeah, I wanted some of Alfred's cooking- hold on. What do you mean she's your first kid she's like the same age as the demon spawn??" Jason acts

"Oh that's because I was dead for- ..... uh dad how long was I dead for? I didn't do the math" Y/n says

"It's been... 20 years now" Bruce says hesitantly and watches the realization set in in everyone's eyes

"Oh... wow... that's a lot longer than I thought... but yeah, I've been dead for a while. I only came back to life earlier this month... Also, dad, I know we'll do questions later, but I don't actually know how I came back to life, I was completely alone when I woke up, and I wasn't where I died." Y/n tells him

"I see. That's alright, my dear, we can worry about that later, Damian told me about where you were staying after he found you during patrol, so I'm sure you're hungry" Bruce says

"Father! "Bruce!" The boys yell

"What?" He turns around confused

"Pft wow bruce" Jason laughs only causing Bruce to look even more confused

"Dad I think they're talking about the fact you mentioned patrol" Y/n tells her father while giggling

"Oh, guys, y/n already knows. Well, she knew about me and knowing my daughter she put two and two together when she saw Damian as Robin" Bruce explains

"Yeah, the moment I heard about there being more vigilantes and that apparently dad had more kids, I figured he started a family business, speaking of which dad how many kids did you have after me??? Did you lean into the 'Brucie' persona that much?" Y/n asks, nudging her father

"Okay, in my defense, most of them are adopted. You and Damian are my only biological children, and technically.... these aren't the only ones there's a few more, but they're out right now. Technically Dick and Jason don't live here anymore. They come here for Alfred's cooking most of the time, " Bruce says and almost as if on que y/n's stomach growls, "Speaking of which, it sounds like it's time to eat."

They finally settle at the dinner table, and Alfred brings out the food, y/n practically drools at the smell alone

They eat, and none of them say anything, but they all notice y/n crying while eating the food, and they wonder what she's been through in the month since she woke up before coming here. Bruce and Alfred especially make mental notes to do a health check-up and get her back onto a proper and healthy diet once she's settled back in. Alfred has many mixed feelings seeing y/n eat. She eats much faster than she used to. Jason notices this also and knows what it's like trying to find food on your own as a kid. He not so subtly gives her some of his food.

After dinner and desert (Alfred was so relieved to hear it really was her, he made cookies to celebrate)

Y/n starts to look really tired

"Are you alright sweetheart?" Bruce asks

"I'm okay, dad, just stuffed. It's been a while since I've eaten that much. I'm probably going to have a food coma - that was a joke. I'm not actually going to fall into a coma. " She quickly adds, knowing how much her dad overthinking things

"Well, food coma or not, it's been a long day, I think it's time for you to head to bed." Bruce says, standing up

"Aw, dad already? We haven't even gotten to talk, and I know you have questions, and I do too, and" Y/n starts

"Sweetheart." Bruce says firmly but warm as he crouches down to meet his daughters eyes. "You're right. There are many questions, but those questions can wait. You need your rest. As much as I want to know everything, I want to make sure you're okay first. We can talk in the morning, and the day after, and so on. Your home now." Bruce says

"Yeah... I'm home now." Y/n says, as she starts to cry again and Bruce gently scoops her up in his arms

"It's okay, sweetheart." He says cooing

"I missed you so much, dad." y/n cries

"I missed you too." Bruce says, "Let's get you to bed, I'm sure you've missed your room too. " He starts to walk through the halls while the others are still sitting at the table stunned

"You still have my room?" Y/n asks as Bruce carries her

"What kind of question is that? Of course I still have your room." Bruce replies

"Well... it's been so long, and you probably knew I was dead so I figured-"

"I never accepted you were dead." Bruce cuts her off. "I always hoped I would find you one day. Even if you were a grown adult, I kept your room the same." Bruce says

"Dad..." Y/n says, knowing that this whole time, her father has been looking for a daughter that he would never find "I... I *was* dead... I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize. Your only a kid it isn't your fault. Whatever happened wasn't your fault. We can talk about it more in the morning. But for now.." Bruce takes out his keys and unlocks the door to Y/n's room and tucks her in. She yawns and Bruce starts to get up but Y/n grabs him

"Dad... could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I know you have work to do and that those guys are probably waiting but-" y/n pauses

"Of course I will. Just rest now my dear." Bruce says and it's not long before y/n is out like a light

Bruce after a few more minutes finally gets up, he plugs in a nightlight and makes his way back to the dining room where he is then greeted by the boys and he sighs

"Boys."

"Bruce" "Father

"Alright. I suppose it's time to explain." Bruce starts as he pulls out a chair "Where do I even begin?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaaaaand another cliffhanger! Sorry not sorry but I've been working on and off on this post for weeks I think. Theres still a good bit of story left (aka the explanations) I don't currently have much planned afterwards but I feel like when I write the next part depending on how I write it this may become a mini series (I say mini because again, I don't have much planned this started out as a random concept in my head) if i do write more after the explanations I'd definitely lean even more into the yandere aspects (I attempted to start planting some seeds of it with the batfam getting more concerned and protective, and the next part will definitely tip them over the edge :) hehe )

I'm sorry if the characters are well, out of character but, *points to the fact I'm new to this fandom and new to writing fanfiction in general*

Also I'm sorry there's no cass, duke, barb, or steph

I don't know much about them yet, I know who they are but not really how they act or solid personality traits so I don't know how to write them yet, but I'll probably allude to them or say that the others explain the situation to them or smth

Thanks for being patient with me for this part lol

#batfam x reader #batman #damian wayne #dick grayson #platonic batfam #tim drake #yandere batfam #batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #bruce wayne #good dad bruce wayne #protect alfred #batfam x batsis #Batman Dead Daughter Au #is it even an au??? its an original story not an alternate one but oh well it sounds better that way lol

123 notes · View notes

hogwartsstudentconfidential · 17 hours ago

Text

✨🎶Hogwarts Confidential is back. Back again. Confidentials back. Tell a friend. 🎶✨

Hellooooooo students! Welcome back to your favorite gossip newspaper. I hope everyone had a good Christmas holiday now let's get into the news and boy do I have a lot of news for you.

Starting off with some weekly updates as usually before we get into the good stuff:

Filch has been announcing a new ban on gummy yoyos? What even is a gummy yoyo? And how have you all been using it to terrorize Filch? (Wanting to know for research purposes definitely not for my own schemes…)

Now some good news. Now that we're back from break McGonagall has stated no exams for the next month so Ravenclaw should throw a party now that they don't have the excuse of their studies to hold them back.

Speaking of Ravenclaw did you all see that game this past weekend? Whoo that was a close one, although it did seem like Ravenclaw was very distracted. Congrats to Marlene on her win in the Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw game! I know she didn't play but she always wins in my heart [insert heart eyes].

And for our weekly activity because none of us can just stay in and study, Dueling club starts this weekend. So everyone head up to the clocktower this Friday for some awesome battles whether that's between your friends or your enemies. (nobody tell Pomfrey what really happens if you get injured.)

NOW ONTO EVERYONE'S FAVORITE PART, THE GOSSIP:

Starting off congratulations to Alexander Kemet-Ali and Andromeda Black on their engagement this past weekend at the Hogwarts New Year's ball. Alex brought in the new year by getting down one knee and popping the question right as the clock struck midnight. The young daughter of Black saying yes, after worrying us all in her recent post that they broke up before confirming they are actually in fact engaged!

Now onto a new brewing love triangle. Jamie the Ho and Anastasia Selwyn have been dating for the past couple of months as everyone knows but at the Potters Christmas ball it seems as though the Selwyn girl ran off to the gardens only to be seen alone with none other than Phoenix Harvey. Is this a scandal on our hands? It was well known a few months back that Harvey and Selwyn were caught hooking up after a wild Slytherin party only for her to end up with that whore Jamie a few days later. What is this girl thinking?

Ms. Selwyn was also seen leaving the Gryffindor common room crying a couple of days ago. Phoenix Harvey rushed after her to comfort the teary eyed girl. The girl crying over none other than shitty boyfriend Jamie Ho’s response to a photo of the girl having a nice time in his long-time rival's common room. Trouble in paradise I suppose. They should definitely break up.

Actually I almost forgot Kingsley Shacklebolt seems to have confessed his long time crush on the soon to be quidditch player at the Potters ball only to get rejected by the jerk that is Ho as he was dragged away by his girlfriend. How anyone could like Jamie Ho is something I will never understand.

Now onto Hogwarts favorite roller coaster of romance, Pandora Rosier and her significant others??? Trust me you'll wanna sit down for this one. According to sources the young Rosier twin attended the Potters ball with none other than Valentina Zabini only for the two to separate at the party and Pandora to be found chatting with Xenophilius Lovegood in a lonely hallway. The two seemed to discuss their child, a dodo bird whomst I forget its name, and their custody of the bird, as well as confessing previous feelings for one another. Afterwards the girl sought out Zabini and they seemed to have shared a moment? Although that's where the night ends MORE seems to happen a few nights later on New Year's Eve.

But before we get into that let's discuss Xenophilius Lovegood and the reason for Pandora and their discussion over the dodo bird's custody. Xenophilius seems to have never checked on Pandora after her breakup a couple months ago with Pureblood extraordinaire Lucius Malfoy. Instead opting to check on Malfoy and accept an offer of a “friendly dinner” with the boy. Only for Pandora to catch wind and accuse her ex best friend of plotting this the whole time and never caring about her. Which led to them cancelling their dinner with the boy and going back to chasing their longest friend.

Note: some mention from Lucius Malfoy about Xenophilius Lovegood being “the biggest snack”?????

NOW BACK TO NEW YEARS EVE. Pandora Rosier and Xenophilius Lovegood seemed to have run off to once again “check on their Dodo Bird” that Rosier claims is sick. However after their disappearance it seems the two are closer than ever and even seem to be a couple? Confirmation I'm sure will be posted by next week. I wonder how Lucius Malfoy is going to handle this news.

Another note: don't mess with Pandora or she'll steal batteries (and socks??) From your dorm room.

Now onto another world famous couple or should I say ex couple seeing as they are no longer together, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Hold on to something because this story is just absolutely ridiculous. The two boys broke up a few weeks ago, seemingly out of nowhere. Sirius Black seemed to be handling it worse than Lupin until he announced a new relationship with none other than Nico Mallory. Lupin also seems to have had a night with Lily Evans after the Evans girl posted a photo insinuating the two hooked up after arriving together to the new years eve ball. Lupin who was also seen getting close with none other than Gideon Prewett seems to be going through a hoe phase. But onto the best part, yesterday at the Hufflepuff party, Lupin was seen getting along very well with Mallory up until it was announced Mallory was dating his ex boyfriend. What will become of the two's relationship? Nobody knows.

Now onto the craziest couple in probably all of Hogwarts. Bartemius Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier. The two boys were seen kissing at the new years eve party only for Evan to barely remember and both boys to consult with long time friend and sister, Pandora Rosier. Evan who is engaged to Petra Elwood seemed to forget about the girl and their arranged marriage after finally confessing his feelings to his friend. The two are now dating and Petra is left in the dust for now. Although it seems Evans' previous confusion on his feelings for Petra have now been turned onto her as she battles with her future husband's new relationship and her own blossoming feelings for the boy. What will become of such a chaotic love triangle? Circle?

Callie held a ritual over the holidays??

Now onto my favorite news, MARY AND EMMELINE HAVE FINALLY CONFESSED TO ONE ANOTHER. My girl Mary finally made a move and it worked out perfectly. The two attended the New Year's Eve Ball and Potters Ball together. I wish you both nothing but the best in your relationship.

Tom Riddle has now become play boy extraordinaire? Tom who seems to run an after school club *cough* cult *cough* has been making moves on Hestia, Mary and Lydia. Even going as far as arguing with Emmeline over Mary and then arguing over Hestia with Marlene. I'd back off if I were you Riddle, these girls are not to be messed with.

Now onto the craziest breakup. Hestia and James Potter are no longer the IT couple of Hogwarts. The only stable couple still being Peter and Gilderoy. Maybe Hogwarts is cursed??? Hestia and James are now co-parenting their cat and Hestia was even seen kissing Marlene Mckinnon twice this past week or so. Hestia better treat my favorite girl right.

Also Marlene found out what I look like because she's my favorite girl, best secret keeper and we possibly kissed the world may never know. Love ya Marls ;).

Also Oliver, Severus and Theodore seem to have something going on but we'll see how that goes I guess? Theodore is making me very confused on what's going on.

We also have another new couple, Aurora De'veux and Mason Haus. Hopefully they can have a stable relationship unlike the rest of us. Good luck, lovebirds!

Now onto our last segment because I'm very tired of writing this long ass update. This is actually currently happening as I saw McGonagall, Filch and Slughorn run by while writing this— have you all ever seen Filch and Slughorn run? It's hilarious. ANYWHO the old ballroom is on fire??? AND an abandoned shed in the forest just past Hagrid's hut??? WHO IS PLAYING WITH FIRE???

Dumbledore is asking for updates or if anyone has knowledge on who could have possibly set these fires?? Apparently matches have been found at the scene of the fire–

That's all for now…

Tah-Tah💋

Until next time.

Remember Jamie's unworthy of your infatuation,

Marlene Mckinnon is hot,

And gossip is amazing.

@james-the-amazing-potter @starlight-starbright-thatsme @looneymoonyy @wormy-loves-ch33se @mystical-magical-me @king-ofthe-crop @xeno-graphical @malfoy-lu @rodolphus-le-strange @averykissableguy @fire-allayer @poison-penmanship @lifeofthe-barty @whokilledevanrosier @pandoras-nox @little-king-official @cas-not-the-band @marls-mckinn0n @hjonesworld @mary-mcdeal @emmelineandhervans @sybill-patricia-trelawney @lilytheginger @alicethekindone @flowers-of-narcissus @andromedashoax @the-queen-bellatrix @severusprince-snape @fabian-with-an-f @mollberryshortcake @fawningamos @k1ndest-keeper @aelius-with-a-quill @annajohn-silvae @adam-lukas-morningstar @imogenmorningstar @oxxen--free @camille-laurier @luciagraham @your-favourite-callie @addison-caddel @daughter-of-spring @magandang-kaluluwa @flyasaphoenix @tjsinclairofficial @secretlifeof-asher @toby-newtman-tics @bones-and-edgar @ted-the-teddy-tonks @scattered-across-thesky @alectocrow

#marauders&co

121 notes · View notes

fairyminnie444 · 18 hours ago

Text

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

— 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

𝓟𝓞𝓢𝓣𝓢 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

your subconscious is simpler than you think it is

you are NOT persisting if you are checking 3D and waiting for you DR!

you don’t try to manifest

Manifesting is instantly

how should I see the role of other people in my reality?

ENDING the cycle of main frequent doubts that arise in our minds once and for all

“At your command”

EIYPO explained for you to understand and absorb

do you sometimes have that feeling that you NEED TO DO SOMETHING/TAKE ACTION to receive what you want?

“BIG” manifestations

What’s the “secret”?

Why You Can Change Your Physical Appearance and Overcome the Limitations of Biology

Why Others’ Manifestations Can’t Block Yours

I already know everything!! How do I apply this to my routine?

The “Sabbath State”

Yes, it’s perfectly okayyyy if you forget or get distracted by your routine.

affirmations to make it easier and “faster”

the ultimate post u need to LET GO

understanding your EGO so you don’t let it hold you back anymore

how to feel your desire in a natural way even if it seems unlikely?

even a negative view of circumstances can lead you to a positive one

manifesting $100,000 is as easy as manifesting $1

you already understood that! you are already there!

𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕚𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕞𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤

manifesting is supposed to be fun, light and easy!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

𝓐𝓢𝓚𝓢 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

i want to increase my height

what if my desires stay in imagination ans never externalize?

can we manifest multiple sps?

time travel

What if others also try to manifest my celebrity sp…

how do you/did you convince yourself that manifesting/LOA is real

dealing with the 3D when it comes to using LOA (living in the wish fulfilled)

doubts affect my manifesting?

How does one take a very famous person « off the pedestal » in order to manifest them?

I want to change my birth name but i have to sign documental stuff

How I could live in the end when revising smth that if materialized would totally change my live in the 3d?

SPEC method

will it still manifest what we want even if we don’t have a clear picture on it?

I need help with my imagination.

how do i know if it's just taking its time or if i'm doing something wrong?

Can you go deeper into days/weeks of the 3D not changing and how to persist throughout the whole day when you're doing things?

What are your thoughts about getting back people who have p@ssed away? REVISION

YT Channels (sub, meditations, mentors)

I want to manifest the absence of something I've been experiencing for a long time (health and wellness related).

work on my self concept / deal with people who criticize or make me feel drained

simple breakdown to help you manifest your SP even if it feels delusional right now

trying to manifest a modeling career

manifest changing appearance and dna, but i also want to change my past to always have been this appearance and my parents too

everytime i think something is "never going to happen" or "hmm i've never seen xyz" it ends up happening?!?!

How can I manifest when I absolutely don't believe that I can?

how can i use daydreaming and listening to songs while manifesting?

someone asked me about my sp. what should I do in this case?

why is consuming more information about this law considered to be coming from lack when doing something in the 3d that "opposes your desire" not considered to be coming from lack?

I have too many things to manifest so what should I do? advice to me in harsh way

struggle with is my celeb sp and my dream job

how would you manifest hectochromia eyes?

EIYPO everything like a puppet and me it’s master pulling the strings? Does it mean that “ancestors,” “angels,” etc. are not existent, only me?

Why Some Manifestations Work Effortlessly

advices for manifesting with mental disorders

can manifest such extreme beauty that everyone in a shopping mall turns to look at me. Even though I'm not the standard and I'm common

I’m manifesting a new face, but visualising it doesn’t make me feel anything?

how do i make sure that happens for certain? i'm scared it won't

What do you think about manifesting being immortal?

+ tips on manifesting a bf/significant other

struggling with feeling the feelings and believing that it’ll happen.

I can never manifest anything related to MONEY purely

date with the guy I like However, I am a very physically insecure girl and I am too scared and nervous.

i dont know what i did wrong, i really thought this would work, i was sure about it but it didn’t and i can’t helped but feel discouraged

I have a fear that some of my manifestation will dissapear

If everything we are seeing in the 3D is assumptions we made through our life, why does sometimes when we are like 100% sure of something and then we figured it is not?

was confident, my affirmation was "no matter how and what, i have all A's" but alas i did in fact not get all A's.

i WANT to see a people who actually manifested things that changed their past, their reality

i wanna manifest more lenient parents

I’m religious so I believe in a higher power/god, but I do still believe in my own power/ Will this hinder my manifestation process because I believe in a higher power?

What am I doing wrong? SP related

how can i.. like manifest or just "undo" it??

I want to manifest my natural hair color being blond, but i have black hair and also my parents, do i have to detail everyone in my family who is blonde for my new genes?

I feel like I can't anymore, that I'm giving in… I feel stuck

i’m really confused in the living in the end thing and others things in my manifestation

I simply want to be like those people who are successful in curing their illnesses

what do you recommend me doing to change my birth year while not ignoring the reality and still living in the end?

Can our negative thoughts manifest if we think them for a long time and then stop thinking them?

How to use chatpgt to clear doubts and manifest

Tips for beginners

why do some people's jokes manifest if they don't assume those jokes are true?

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

72 notes · View notes

acynicalsweetheart · 2 days ago

Text

LOVE IS A LOSING GAME

pairing: pre-tulpar!curly x fem!reader

word count: 3.0k

content warning: age gap (curly's in his 30s), established relationship, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, sex, tummy bulge, mentions of pregnancy, mild obsession/dependency, sort of sappy and soft here and there… canon events of mouthwashing do take place after this

author's note: hi… still nervous to death about posting even if i already shared this on my ao3. i think i yapped enough there so yah. first fic + smut ever btw LOL that's why it's so.. lack lustre. supposed to be the last day before his tulpar departure. any interaction appreciated! inspired by softer softest from rimqueen on here .

It’s the last day.

The last day, if your star-crossed streak strikes again, you’ll ever see your Curly. You don’t want him to leave, why would you? Most importantly, why would he? His job is proclaimed to be your full-time daddy, not up in the galaxy, not in the middle of spacefuck nowhere.

It’s five minutes past seven pm. Five minutes past the time he was supposed to be home. Of course you’re worried sick, what if he left early? To the ship, that is. You’re just pacing, anxiously turning your engagement ring left and right, the one Curly got you. The one that sits painfully cold and tight around your finger, not pleasant the way it does when he’s home—a reminder of his promise. Right now, it’s your only comfort, worrying with you as you overthink, flipping through all the reasons of why he isn’t home yet.

You don’t trust that strange guy he always hangs out with, that shady type. His name leaves a bad taste in your mouth every time you say it. Every time you hear someone else say it. What if Jimmy’s the one who took your Curly away? He looks like he would. You can’t stand the way he looks like a wet and grumpy street cat living amongst dumpster trash. Your daddy is nowhere near dumpster trash, you truly don’t understand what he sees in him. He’s fond of Jimmy in a way that makes this dark-black cloud of jealousy settle snugly in your heart.

The fact that he’s going to be up there with him and not you, for twelve and a half months—more than a year, that isn’t right. If you got pregnant today, you’d have to raise your baby all alone. Curly says he’s going to marry you when he gets back. All you hope is just that he does get back.

You’ve got a Curly-shaped itch between your legs that only his dick can reach.

Seven minutes past seven pm is when you hear keys jingling outside the front door. Seven is certainly not your lucky number. You’re on him the second he steps in, jumping up into his lap, lips smashing onto his before he can even inhale. Curly grabs onto you like it’s his instinct to do so. Has it been seven minutes or seven years?

“Daddy!” You cup his face in your hands, stubble grazing your palms, almost wanting to shake some sense into his head, eyes searching for his. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry, honey, I—“ Curly’s voice is quickly muffled by your lips again, you just couldn’t resist shutting him up with another kiss.

In your defence, he shouldn’t have come home looking that kissable and that fuckable.

“Thought I’d lost you...” it’s a breathy admission, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones like he’s the most precious porcelain doll. You hug him tightly, gripping onto the fabric of his clothes and hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll both be frozen like this forever.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he chuckles reassuringly, bouncing you up and down the way he should be doing on his cock. “Daddy was getting fitted for his new suit, took a few more minutes than expected.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he was wearing it. Frankly, you don’t care what he’s wearing—you need it off, and you need it off now.

“Yeah?” You ask as you pull back, taking another moment to look at him.

“Yeah, fits like a glove,” Curly replies, seemingly way too proud.

Like he is completely oblivious to the fact that he’s a walking, talking, living and comically oversized sex doll. Makes your stomach pool with the most uncomfortable cocktail of worry and arousal. How many people are gonna see him in that? Either way, you need to fit him like a glove. Right now, as a matter of fact.

“Well, I missed you.” You pout, absentmindedly smoothing down the collar of his uniform.

“Missed you more,” Curly noses at your cheek, saying that like he’s sure of it.

“Then take me to bed,” it’s but a simple phrase, yet it makes Curly blush all the same, even at his age.

“Alright, baby. As you wish.”

You drench Curly’s face and neck in kisses while he carries you to bed, hopefully getting him just as turned on as you are. Although you think you take the cake, you’ve been pining for twelve hours straight, since he left for work this morning. It’s hard, not being able to last one day without fucking the shit out of him.

Curly sits on the edge of the bed, but you want him in the middle of it. You want it to be special, to honour the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that keeps telling you it might be the last time. You want it to be your very own, personal romance movie—starring nobody else aside from you and Curly.

You straddle him, legs struggling a little to fit on each side of his, hovering over the spacious and sparsely golden-haired expanse of his thighs. You’d like to ride them sometime, feel what it’s like to get them sticky with your juices. There’s so many things you want to do with Curly, do to Curly. So many things you might never get the chance to do.

His hands settle on your hips for the moment.

You unbutton his uniform, actively working against your lack of self-control to not just rip it off. You unbutton it like there’s time, like Curly isn’t leaving tomorrow, like it isn’t fully probable that this is the last time you’ll ever see each other.

Button after button, the blond tufts of ocean waves on his chest reveal, getting sparser and darker to the trail down to the marbles of his stomach. You can’t get enough of him, his majestic fucking stallion face, flushed cheeks, huge tits, ridiculously big dick; everything that makes Curly, Curly.

You need him so badly you can almost taste it. Taste him. Somewhere in your reddening, quickening heart, you hope that he needs you just as badly.

“Daddy,” you start, but he’s already undressing, tugging the uniform down his legs.

“I know, baby.” Curly leans in to peck your cheek, makes quick work of taking off your nightie.

He unclasps your bra the same way he’s done a million times before, leaving it on top of the pile of shed clothes. He pulls your panties off, helping you lift one of your legs after the other. Curly even takes off your fuzzy socks.

Your pussy’s crying out for your daddy, leaking onto his boxers and darkening the fabric. You’re soaked to the bone, stripped to the bone, all for him.

You’re the one who leans in to kiss him again, shivering when he moves a hand to the nape of your neck, keeping your hair from spilling onto your naked frame. Curly’s other hand smooths down your side before his roughened fingertips find your swollen clit.

If your pussy could talk, it’d be screaming how badly it needs daddy.

Curly touches you gingerly, his kisses swallowing every noise you make. He never outruns the achingly slow and gentle way he touches you in, doing it all so softly as if you’d break if he did it in any other manner.

He buries his face in your neck, peppering kisses up and down, lips lingering on the spots he knows feel good for you. But Curly doesn’t bite, doesn’t suck, doesn’t leave a mark like you want him to. He doesn’t leave anything to show that you’re his—that he’s yours.

The circles against your bud are doing numbers even if his touch is nothing but ghosting, tickling the nerves. Your hips buck to meet his touch, craving the feel of his fingertips on every millimeter of your clit the same way anybody craves anything.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispers knowingly, lips brushing against your ear. “Cum for daddy.”

It twitches under the pads of his fingers, eyes fluttering shut at the tingles starting in your toes and making their way up to your loins. Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent moons. Something little to show that he belongs to you.

You tense up, head hanging low as you cum with a needy whine, translucent stickiness dripping down your daddy’s fingers and your thighs. Your legs are trembling, but it’s not nearly enough.

“Need you inside, daddy,” you state the obvious before Curly even has time to tell you how much of a good girl you are, movements a little clumsy as you start pawing at the giant bulge underneath you.

You can’t really tell if the wet spot on the midnight fabric is caused by him or you.

“Shh... I’ll give it to my baby.” Curly places a tender kiss to your temple, his bigger hand covering yours, pulling down his boxers and finally letting his cock spring free.

He tugs them all the way off while you gawk at him as if it’s the first time you’ve seen him naked. It’s thick all the way around, sticky in a way only pussies are—pink like his lips, his nipples, his cheeks when you embarrass him or kiss him in all the right places. Curly’s tip is reddish in moments like this, the colour creating the most erotic opalescent transition to his base and patch of golden curls.

You take Curly in your hand, smiling at the heaviness weighing it down. His breath hitches once you give it a few idle strokes, sliding his leaky head against your leaky slit before lining the perfect pair up.

The stretch never gets old, it’s painful yet familiar—something you’re used to after all this time. Curly helps you slowly sink down onto his fat cock, guiding you inch by inch, grunt by grunt, with his hands on your waist until he’s all the way inside you. He’s so big that his tip nearly breaches your cervix.

You feel him all too well, every vein, every ridge, every shape no matter the size. Every pulse and heartbeat—consuming your love through the tightness enveloping him, milking him for all he’s worth.

But you fit around him like you were made for him.

You waste no time starting to move your hips, the slick, slick, slick already echoing throughout the room from your wetness, watching daddy’s dick bulging through your tummy.

Curly’s hands shift around your body, keeping you close to him by your shoulders one moment, guiding your hips back and forth the other. It’s not long before he starts humping you back.

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” he pants, voice whiny as he places open-mouthed kisses all over your chest. “Taking daddy’s cock so deep.”

You brush his hair back, the shorter curls falling onto his damp forehead, take in his kiss-bruised and red lips as he keeps panting—and you think Curly’s never looked prettier. Never looked more like your daddy, yours and only yours.

Tilting his head up to meet your eyes, you can’t help yourself, “I need you, Curly.”

The only time you ever call him Curly is in public. The only eyes watching are his, taking in your expression—your brows that are pinched together and tears that are threatening to spill over your waterlines.

“Baby, don’t cry, ‘m right here.” He pulls you impossibly closer, sweaty bodies sticking together in a naked and tangled lotus flower.

“Don’t go,” it comes out shaky - unsure if it’s ‘cause of the way your clit keeps brushing against him for every hump, or if it’s the sadness that sits just as snugly in your throat the way his dick does in your pussy.

“I’m sorry,” Curly’s moans leak into his voice, “I have to. You know I’d never leave you.”

“What if it’s the last time, Curly? What if you don’t come back?”

“Fuck, baby,” his cock stirs inside you, rubbing against your sweet, spongy spot. “Don’t talk like that, won’t be the last time. I’ll come back, you know I will.”

It’s a momentary comfort, words he can’t even be sure he’ll keep, your pussy squeezing him tighter than ever at the thought. You feel your second orgasm slowly building up in the confines of your tummy, the white-hot rush you can’t be sure is adrenaline or neediness running through your body.

“Promise me, Curly.” Your legs tense shut around him.

“I promise,” from him is all it takes to send you over the edge, waves of pleasure washing over you like a tsunami, sucking him in deeper as the coil in you snaps.

You whine in tandem, noises blending together in a pornographic orchestra. Only difference is that Curly’s desperate to cum. You’re desperate for him to stay. He moves his hips up, you move yours back and forth.

“Oh, baby...” he says under his breath, struggling to maintain a steady rhythm. “I love you.”

“I love you, Curly.” You press your clammy forehead against his, breaths mingling as you pant into each other’s mouths.

It makes his thrusts stiffen momentarily, his dark blond lashes fluttering like butterfly wings as he tries his best to keep his eyes on yours. Curly’s moans are breathless, his cock twitching against your walls, followed by the sticky, long-awaited warmth of his cum spilling into you.

You keep up your pace, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, hips grinding against his like you’ve got something to prove—which you do. “Want your babies, Curly.”

He winces, holds back another whine, you kind of feel bad for wearing his dick out like this, wringing his balls of every single last drop of seed. But he doesn’t tell you no, not ever, he’d beat around the bush if it meant not seeing the look of a kicked puppy on your face after not getting what you want. Regarding everything apart from his work, from tomorrow.

“You will, honey. We’ll have as many as you want, okay?”

Curly holds you until your movements go slack, bonelessly slumping against him. He lays you down, pulls out with a quiet, sticky pop, his cum trickling out of you - much to your dismay. Your pussy feels empty without him inside you, like it’s missing a crucial part of its anatomy.

You’re both staring at the wall, his head resting against your chest, fingers tangled in his post-sex messy curls, massaging his scalp. You wonder what Curly’s thinking of, if he’s thinking of you. You wonder if there’s a certain spot that’d act like a key if you massaged it good enough, make him unlock and tell you all his secrets. All the things running through his mind.

“Don’t leave me, Curly. Just another day, okay? Tell them you’re sick or something... don’t wanna lose you.”

You stick out your pinky finger for him to grab, dwarfing it when he does. Curly doesn’t say anything, doesn��t make a promise, doesn’t look you in the eyes. Just holds onto it, silently—like he knows he’ll let you down just as well as you do.

And so you get dressed together, cook dinner together, sit bunched up on the couch together watching a shitty vintage drama about the Civil War just to make him happy. The question is if it’s all enough.

He’s so okay with everything.

It’s probably light on Curly—not having to see your worried face, quivering lips, stressed-out state. You wonder if he’ll even call, if they’re even allowed to call, if he even wants to call.

You have a bad feeling about all of it. Not just that he could get lost in space, floating amongst the junk up there like that’s all he’ll ever be. It’s not only jealousy that sears in you, it’s this inexplicable feeling that you’ll never see him again. Like he might die. Or like you might die. From Curly withdrawal.

Who could go more than a year without seeing the love of their life?

You wait for Curly in bed, wait for him like he is a million miles away already, somewhere in the galaxy even if he’s just in the other room.

Your gaze drifts to the pile of clothes on the floor, memories of you and him tangled right here, on this very bed, flooding your mind in a way that is all too welcome—mildly bothersome. Your panties, his suit.

That stupid fucking pony and its Pony Express logo ironed to the chest of his uniform.

You want to hide it, tear it, incinerate it. If you did, Curly wouldn’t have anything to wear to work tomorrow. Knowing him, he’d probably show up regardless, but you wish there was a sliver of hope that he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t put it on, leave you, show up.

You just let it lie there, on the floor—where it belongs.

But he holds you all the same, lets his big arms lull you to sleep when the room’s pitch black and the smell of sex lingers faintly in the air.

“Sweet dreams, my darling girl,” is lazily murmured into your hair, the scent of Curly comfortably overbearing as his frame eclipses yours. Is that going to be the last you ever hear of him?

“Night, daddy.”

You dream of him, not unlike every other night. You’re married, you have babies, Jimmy’s out of the picture. Curly’s a baker, brings you home stupid and puffy pastries, and he’s too good at it. Too good at being your husband, at making you feel loved, at being homely in the way that suits him so perfectly. You fall asleep with this empty feeling imprisoning your heart—keeping it locked up behind bars until he’s unconditionally yours.

The entire thing is too good to be true.

Curly’s gone in the morning, he left you with nothing besides a dull ache between your legs and a pink post-it stuck to the bedside table. The cold metal of your ring sits mockingly mean and tight around your finger, strangling it so tight it cuts off your blood circulation. It’s a brazen reminder of your Curly, his promises. The fact that he may never come back. You wonder if he’ll ever be your daddy again—if he’ll ever be anybody else’s daddy.

Your pregnancy test lies face down, two stripes for positive in the trash.

#♡. fraise's fics #curly mouthwashing #curly mw #captain curly #curly smut #curly x reader #curly x you #mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x you #mouthwashing x y/n #mouthwashing curly smut #curly mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing curly x reader

109 notes · View notes

hillbillyoracle · 3 days ago

Text

Preparing for a Winter Storm

I thought I'd share what I'm doing to prepare for the winter storm that's supposed to blow through on Sunday evening into Monday morning in case it's helpful to anyone. I know a few people got a lot out of my post on tornados and the first winter storm I went through on my own really rattled me so I hope it helps someone.

This wound up being longer than I thought it would be so TL;DR is stay warm, stock up on foods that don't require cooking, know when and how to bail.

The Challenges

Snow and ice cause different but related problems. The ice totals are what look more nasty for my particular area so that's what I'll be focusing on.

With ice there's some key issues I've experienced in the past:

Power Outages - this impacts all aspects of the home, lighting, cooking, hot air, hot water, communication, etc.

Cell Phone Outages - this can make getting help in an emergency very difficult, can make it difficult to search for information you need as well

Pipes Freeze and Burst - pretty self explanatory and also hell

Damage to Cars - tree limbs falling on it, ice can build up and cause issues if there are gaps that allow it to get into internal components, can cause damage to gas lines, driving in hazardous conditions can lead to a wreck, etc.

Trees Falling - Can fall on house, power lines, car, people, etc.

Power Outage Prep

Food

Stock up on foods that don't require any cooking at all. Try to get 3 days worth. I'm getting things like crackers, chips, Bobo's PB&Js, dried fruit, fruit pouches, and peanut butter. You might consider trail mix, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, clementines, etc.

Get paper plates and plastic utensils if you'll be using a back up cooking method. Cleaning becomes infinitely more onerous in a winter storm so it's best to limit it. I'll be using my rice cooker plugged into my Jackery as a backup cooking method. Back up to the backup is an alcohol stove - which you might be able to find for pretty cheap at a camping store. Propane camp stoves are another good option you can find in most Walmarts.

Have a plan for your fridge and freezer. People not infrequently wind up with food poisoning after a power outage because they try to eat food in their fridges and freezers that they shouldn't. USDA recommends you discard all food in the fridge if the power is off for more then 4 hours - this is with not opening the door. For you freezer, the recommendation is 48 hours (for a full freezer). If the temperatures allow for it, you can place your frozen goods outside.

Heat

Layer, layer, layer. Find all the warm clothes in your wardrobe and be prepared to layer up. Socks and hats are particularly important. You do not want to sweat though! If you start sweating take something off.

Blankets galore. Make sure you've got plenty of blankets. If you've got a decent sleeping bag, even better. You can use sheets to help trap a little more air around you like a tent.

Know the signs of cold exposure and know when to call for help. Cold exposure involves more than I can get into here but it's one of those things that can kill very quickly and in a way where people are often too far gone before they notice. Basically if you are cold and having trouble staying awake - call for help.

Know where your local shelters will be. Emergency departments often put this information out on Facebook and Twitter. You can also call the non-emergency line and ask in most places. Keep in mind many won't accept pets.

Grab a spare heater if you can and know how to use it safely. I live in an area where woodstoves are common but my place doesn't have one (yet) so I have a propane heater (you can grab small ones for apartments even). If you have a spare heater, be sure to grab fuel if you're able (tends to go fast). I also have an air quality detector which is extremely important. A lot of ice storm deaths are from people dying of monoxide (and similar) poisoning.

Hot water bottles are a godsend. If you live in an area with propane for hot water, then you'll likely still have it if the power goes out. When I was younger we got through 8 days of no power in the middle of winter in part because of hot water bottles specifically. They're so handy.

Keep a fire extinguisher handy. Even if you're not using a heater honestly.

Power

Charge batteries and battery banks. Pretty self explanatory. If you're able to grab even a cheap back up battery, I would. So many people in past ice storms sat on their phones, drained it of battery, then didn't have it to call for help when they needed it. Even a small boost could be good in an emergency.

Know where your electrical box is. Sometimes power outages can cause issues with breakers. Know where it is in case you need to turn things off or back on.

Have a radio. I mention this all the time. With no power your radio is your lifeline to public emergency broadcasts, weather forecasts, and locating resources. Get a radio. A cheap one is better than nothing.

Lighting

Charge flashlights. One thing a lot of people don't realize about power outages in winter is just how much we've come to rely on artificial light. Have backups to your back ups if possible. They're a safety tool.

Consider a solar light. My solar lantern has saved my ass so many times not it's not even funny. They tend to be very energy efficient - so easy to recharge off of a battery bank - but the you have the option of charging them slowly in the sun you get during the day.

Turn a small light into a lantern. I've used this trick so many times I almost forgot to include this. If you need to take a small light and make it more of an area light, fill a bottle (ideally plastic and 1L+) with water and place the light right on the bottle. This works great for headlamps especially. It'll cast the light like a lamp instead of focusing it on one area, making it easier to do chores and play games in the dark.

Chores to do before the storm:

Laundry

Shower

Dishes

Take out trash

Cell Phone/Internet Outage Prep

Write down important numbers somewhere that isn't your phone or laptop. If you run out of power on either, you still might be able to borrow someone else's phone and call.

If you're unfamiliar with your area, print or buy a map. In the event you need to leave, you need to know your way around enough to get where you're going.

If you have a ham radio license and gear, make sure it's charged and has local repeaters programmed in. Check to see if any will be running any weather nets you can monitor. If you don't have a license, you are technically allowed to transmit if you're experiencing a true emergency so if you have access to that gear also make sure it's charged and you have an idea of how you'd do that.

When the power goes out, use the phone as a phone only. Something I see every ice storm ever since smart phones took over, is people having nothing to do so they sit on their phones and drain it of battery. Or everyone overloads the cell towers and they go down. I am begging you, please, if the power goes out, do not use your phone for anything other than calling for help or checking in with neighbors and loved ones (once or twice a day).

Create an entertainment box. Grab an box. Put in things you can do with absolutely zero power. I recommend playing cards, puzzles, board games, books you might want to read, art supplies, TTRPG (there are solo ones). This way when you start to get the itch to check your phone, you know where to look instead. I know it seems simple but having it prepped ahead of time saves you a lot of brainpower (believe me).

Water + Pipes Freezing Prep

Leave facets dripping and cabinet doors open. Vital you do both. They help prevent your pipes from freezing and bursting.

Find out where your water shut off is. I just found out mine is underneath my house in the crawl space - hurrah for me. Most apartments have much more easily accessible shut offs. Even if you're not certain you can shut it off yourself, know where it is so you can save time and direct someone who can. In the event a pipe bursts, shut the water off immediately and do not turn on water in the house until a professional can service it.

Find a number of a well reviewed plumber (or two) ahead of time. Sometimes cell service and internet goes out. Consider having these written down somewhere other than your phone or computer ahead of time.

Find out how you can flush your toilet with no power. Most people can add water to the back of the tank and still flush. So if you still have water you're good. Some places require a pump that runs on electricity. So find out beforehand. During power outages my family adopts the "if it's yellow, let it mellow, if it's brown, send it down" toilet rule to conserve water.

Consider grabbing a backup toilet option. I keep a five gallon bucket and extra trash bags for just such an occasion (and some cedar chips to help with smell but it's not strictly speaking necessary). Separating liquids from solids also helps with smell. I do this because if a pipe bursts, there's a good shot you won't be able to use your toilet any more. This is also important if your toilet runs on an electric pump and the power goes out.

Damage to Cars

Keep your car filled up to at least a half a tank. This protects the fuel lines and gives you enough gas to get out if you need to.

If you'll be traveling during the storm, make sure you have a winter car kit in the vehicle and know how to flag for help if you get stranded. It's beyond what I can cover here but there are a ton of great articles out there.

Check your levels and make sure nothing is running too low.

Have the number of your mechanic written down somewhere that's not your phone or laptop. Pretty self explanatory.

Trees Falling

I'm gonna be honest, I don't have a lot for this one given my disabilities. I have a plan with my neighbors who are in a better position to use it. You could consider grabbing some extra tarps in the event that you need to cover a window that gets damaged or similar. Basically, just have an idea of where your most vulnerable trees are and keep an ear out for them as the storm progresses.

Hope these spark some ideas for how to prep and stay safe out there!

#weather #wx #preparedness #adulting #winter storm #happy to answer questions #as best I'm able

94 notes · View notes

deantfwinchester · 16 hours ago

Text

Gingerly

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader, same timeline

This one is set not long before the events of "A New Chapter" - before Reader & Sarah pick out Halloween costumes :)

Summary: Early mornings in the first trimester present a new set of challenges for the growing Miller family. Joel does his best to find remedies for their dilemma.

Warnings: pregnancy, so many euphemisms for vomit, so beware

A/N: this one isn't very long. it's lowkey a prequel to the one I'm posting next. Very similar stories at two different points in their lives. <3

Word Count: 1.8k.

____________________________________________________________

You’re spending longer than usual this morning hugging the porcelain. It didn’t take long after discovering your pregnancy for the morning sickness to kick in, and it’s a killer. This is happening more often than you’d like, but at least it’s over pretty quickly most days — just a little eviction of last night’s dinner to make room for breakfast, apparently. Isn’t this kid supposed to make you hungrier? What’s their deal?

Today’s a little different, and you’re left retching long enough to impact your punctuality to work. Gotta send a text to some coworkers to get your class covered. You hate it, but it’s not exactly a willpower game at this point — this kid wants all of yesterday’s food GONE, but your stomach is putting up a fight. Unfortunately, you’re the one losing.

Joel’s wandering anxiously in and out of the bathroom, worrying like hell. He’s going back and forth between sitting with you and rubbing your back —he’d pulled your hair up for you after the first evacuation — and checking on Sarah, making sure she gets ready for school. He’d hovered for a while until the two of you heard Sarah come downstairs, and you insisted he go get her some breakfast, just please don’t tell you what it is. He’s in and out as Sarah eats, and she pops in to check on you and tell you she made him sit down for a minute and eat something too. You shoot her the most grateful smile you can muster on the green-around-the-gills visage you’re sporting at the moment. He’s got a full day ahead as well, and you’d been worrying right back… from your position on the bathroom tile, at least.

When they’ve both finished breakfast, Joel returns to your side, waiting until the last possible second to leave before Sarah’s late for school. You assure him it’s not a big deal, you’ll be okay in a little while. He knows this, and that it’s normal, but it breaks his heart to leave you there on the floor.

“How ‘bout I drop Sarah off and come right back? Tommy can get everybody started at the site, and I’ll just stay long enough to get you to work,” he questions, placing the back of his hand to your cheek to check your temperature again “just to make sure that’s all it is!” before sighing and tucking some loose hair behind your ear. You shake your head slowly, trying to minimize the nausea.

“There’s not really anything for you to do, sweetie. As much as having you here with me afterward makes me feel better, we can’t both be late to work every day for the next month. Maybe longer than that. I’ll probably be fine by the time you get back anyway. Just be a wasted trip.” You huff at the end, hoping the nausea is reaching its end for this morning and you can get up and get ready to leave.

Joel looks at you with a pained expression and cringes at the word month. Just seeing you dealing with this the last few weeks has been agonizing for him — he doesn’t even want to imagine how it feels.

“No such thing as a wasted trip when it comes to you, darlin’. ‘S my job, you know that,” he responds, with a sympathetic smile, and continues before you can rebut. “But alright, I’m goin’. Promise you’ll text me if you’re feelin’ any worse?,” he lifts a pinky to you, and you hook yours right back, turning your cheek when he tries to kiss your lips. You chuckle at his disappointment when his own lips meet your cheek.

“Gross, you do not wanna kiss me right now,” you laugh through. He begs to differ but understands your reluctance. He tells you to hang tight for just a minute before he finally leaves, and returns with an armful of supplies. Next to you on the floor are a water bottle, some plain crackers, some tylenol, and something with bubbles to settle your stomach.

He asks you to “please try and eat a little somethin’ before you leave, baby”, to which you nod and assure him you’ll do your best, trying to get him satisfied as possible and light a fire under him before Sarah’s late for school. He bends down, kisses the top of your head, squeezes your shoulder, and heads out the door to meet Sarah in his truck.

______________________________________________________________

Joel's texting to check on you around the time you get off the floor. You’re nibbling the crackers he left and trying small sips of water like he asked — which he’s reminded you of again — but you’re struggling with it. He calls you as you’re packing your things to leave.

“Hey sweetheart, how you feelin’? Get any of those crackers down for me?” he inquires.

“I’m fine, just about to leave. I ate a couple of them, and I’ll bring them with me,” you respond, trying and failing to keep the exhaustion from your voice. He pauses for a moment.

“Level with me, baby. You don’t sound up for it, you sure we don’t need to talk to the doctor? I can come home, we can go today, I’ll just—” but you cut him off before he can spiral any further.

“Joel. You’re sweet, and I know you’re worried, but it’s not any worse than normal. It’s just sticking around longer today. Yes, I’m still a little,,, blech,,, but it’ll be gone in a bit. I’ll make some tea before I leave, that’ll help,” you affirm. He lets out a sigh that tells you he’s not convinced, but resigned to the fact you’re going to work regardless. Soon enough, he arrives at the site and asks you to keep him updated, which you promise and wish him a good day and an “i love you” to get you both through the day.

______________________________________________________________

You get to work right before the switch to 2nd period, still not feeling great, but stable enough to drive there safely and get your kids started on something to keep them busy. Today’s a good day for a documentary, a worksheet, and a dark classroom. The kids will thank you for it anyway, but somehow still need something every three minutes. That’s at least one thing that won’t be unfamiliar when the baby arrives — even though you have high schoolers.

You shoot Joel a text, letting him know you got to work okay, and that you’ve chosen something to help you take it (slightly) easy today. You hope this message will ease his mind so he can get back to work as well.

Joel responds with a brief message in the affirmative, but he’s still worried sick. He’s seen you deal with this each day for the last couple of weeks, but this morning your voice was shaking and your face was ashen. What if this isn’t just today? What if it’s getting worse? He's afraid you’ll end up dehydrated or won’t bother to eat enough at work. You struggle with remembering lunch on days you feel good, he knows you won’t even bother today, and it’s eating at him while he works.

He decides to surprise you at lunch time with something filling that won’t upset your stomach, and that’ll entice you to eat. He wants to make sure you’re fed today, and that there are some more options at the ready — for your sake and his own. He does a little research and stops by the grocery store to grab an array of plain foods and a bunch of liquids. By the time he leaves there are multiple types of crackers in tow, applesauce packets, a few bone broths, some of your favorite juices and teas, a bag of ginger candies plus a jar of ginger gummy vitamins, and more. He’s no technology wiz, but the man can google up a storm when the need arises.

He rolls up to your classroom’s back door when he knows it’s time for lunch and texts you, grabbing his things and stepping out of the truck to meet you. You walk out to find him with a big bottle of cold gatorade and a takeout bag hanging from his fingers. You muse that the pretty big gatorade bottle looks normal-sized in Joel's large, gentle hands. You don’t even take anything from his grasp before you lean forward into his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He smiles, and wordlessly puts his chin atop your head before wrapping his free arm around you, rubbing lightly up and down your back.

Neither of you has to say a word for him to tell you’re still not feeling 100%, and he’s whispering sweet things while you stand there in his embrace. You hide your face in his chest trying to quell your tears before they start. You know him well enough that this gesture doesn’t exactly surprise you, but he’s so thoughtful that his kindness moves you every damn time. It’s not something you ever felt before Joel, but he’ll never stop trying to get you accustomed, and you know that.

You look up at Joel like he hung the moon, memorizing every warm shade in his bright eyes, hoping your own reflect the appreciation and admiration dancing in your chest. He holds you tight and sits you in the passenger seat of the truck before pulling out the takeout boxes and cracking open your gatorade. The cool, lightly-flavored liquid soothes you in a way water hasn’t quite accomplished today — doesn’t even matter that neither of you knows what “Glacier Freeze” means, it’s effective.

You lean against his shoulder while you both eat lunch, talking to each other and the baby. Joel laughs and praises you for putting on a movie for your kids before recounting the events of his morning. He shares everything he learned from his research, and even more he heard at the grocery store from a couple of older women who saw him contemplating the ginger options by the prenatal vitamins. You imagine him staring intently at bottles in the pregnancy aisle of the Health & Beauty section and laugh, thinking of how his concentration and concern would’ve made the old ladies he spoke to melt. You’re surprised he didn’t get a cheek pinched at this rate.

You sit together until the school bell breaks your reverie and you have to kiss him goodbye. He hands you an already prepped ziploc baggie of even more shelf-stable snacks he bought to keep in your desk to settle your stomach as needed. You grin at him again, shaking your head.

“Joel, this is too much trouble. I can’t believe you did all of this just this morning!” you exclaim, before he scoffs and responds.

“I told you — no such thing as a wasted trip for you, baby.”

51 notes · View notes