#today is the worst day of '24 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 7 months ago

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mindfuck. | sunday (hsr)

𖤓 tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, established d/s dynamic (implied to be 24/7), extremely submissive!reader, soft dom!sunday, mindfucking in a sense, extremely horny telepathic communication, sensation play (pain + pleasure), intesne, overstimulation, oral (f!recieving), penetration, misuse of aeonly abilities, very lovey-dovey in an insane way, lowk mutually codependent lol, 18+

𖤓 wc ; 4k. (this is.. wow)

𖤓 a/n ; this was not written with canon in mind. this was written with heart-eyes and wet pussy. if it does not make sense with his canon abilities, it is not my business !

everything in this dynamic is very consensual but sunday pushes reader a lot so it gets intense for them. they have aftercare !! but they are both insane so please be cautious!! i dont think it warrants dark content but it is . wild.

He won't put on airs in front of you.

Maybe it's because your lovers, as he describes it. Not partners because that implies equal control, not something so juvenile as your boyfriend. Lovers. Sunday refers to you unilaterally as his lover. As his.

As his lover, he remains ruthless. He doesn't lie though. He's frank with you to the point you wonder how he lies so easily with everyone else. He shows you the vulnerability of his grip strength, the intensity of his feelings for you. Sunday loves you. He won't put on airs about this.

Sunday loves you, so there's no need to worry about anything. Don't worry about the bed you sleep in, the clothes you wear, the things you eat. Sunday won't put on airs about wanting to let you have freedom. He doesn't even pretend like he'd be happy if something caused you to leave. He wouldn't tell you to find someone else should you grow sick of him.

Be with him. Let him love you. He'll carve something out of his heart and keep you there - conform to his ribs and listen to the sound of its beat. You're his lover. All his. Bone, blood, faith, religions - all his, always.

When Sunday is in a bad mood, you can always tell. Though his face remains indifferent - he's harder on you than he is usually. He's not often in a bad mood and the difference might look minor to anyone else. And identifying the source of his mood is arduous, because often it's him thinking himself into a corner. The worst of it comes when he convinces himself you want to leave him, even when you assure you have no such intentions.

Sunday is twisted. You know that. But you willingly handed him the chain to your leash. It's no doubt you're just as rotten.

His mood, though usually magnanimous - can become cold and ruthless and brutal on days like that.

There are three things that tell you that Sunday is in a bad mood when he visits your room today.

First, that he's meeting you in the real world and not in the dreamscape. Sunday doesn't like reality. If he's meeting you there - it means that he is wanting affirmation you are real despite everything, which is not a sign of him being very level-headed.

The second is that he's being affectionate. He comes to your door and kisses you on the lips before making you greet him. A deep kind of kiss, shared between average people. Lacking control and precision - all want.

The third is that he takes off his clothes when he closes the door behind. He makes you sit on the bed like always, but doesn't join you in his full attire. He doesn't make you get naked and come sit in his lap while he still has his suit on.

You have a routine about this after all. Sunday comes, makes you sit at his feet until he's pleased with your begging - makes you cum to the point of delirium than murmurs softly until you've sobered again. He'll talk to you afterwards. Lays in bed next to you and strokes your hair with absent fondness only after affording you pleasure. Only after paying him your worship.

But he skips the step entirely today and undresses. He's never undressed without you asking him. Always a reward.

You want to ask what exactly has him this desperate, but you're almost afraid to know. It's so unusual it jars you.

He has his back turned away from you on the bed where you sit. You're naked with the exception of a choker. Sunday is undressing in front of you, all without you asking. It feels like something you shouldn't look at, though he hasn't forbidden you from it explicitly.

You peek anyway, pushing away the guilt.

He undresses himself neatly. Slides the silk of his gloves off and lays them flat on the armchair nearby. He shrugs his white coat off, follows it. His fingers are beautiful and soft outside of their confines, and they unbutton his shirt dexterously. Off with his vest and his other attire - once his top half is bare he turns to you.

Despite yourself, you try to level your enthusiasm. You look down at the bed underneath you, only listening for his footsteps. Instead you find the hardness of your heartbeat, rising into your throat.

Your skin feels hot. He hasn't even touched you but you're wet, albeit afraid of what any of it means.

You feel your pulse quicken impossible when his hand brushes along your cheek. His fingers are long and slender, his nails as pristine as the rest of him.

"Look at me."

And so you do, picking your head up to gaze at him. His expression is unreadable, but different. "Is everything okay?"

That seems to shock him. He smiles that time, comfortably. "Everything is fine. Something came up. I thought I'd come see you."

"Oh well, I'm glad you came to see me," You say quickly and he smiles again even softer. "But, well. It's different."

"It is. Is that a problem?"

"No, no - I just. Are you upset?"

"Not with you," He's quick to assure. You love him, you think. It's things like that that make you love him. "Something annoyed me."

"Is that right," You look up at him and look closer. "Can I help you?"

You feel it then. There's a shift in his demeanor. He's pleased with the question, with your attitude. You feel his hand nearly tremble as he strokes you fondly. "You want to make me feel better?"

You feel strange. Skittish. "Y-yes. If that's alright."

"Aren't you very generous?" He replies. It sounds like praise, makes your stomach turn. "There's something I'd like to do with you. Will you allow me?"

You're not sure why he's asking. "You don't need to ask my permission for anything."

He shivers at that. You think he does. It's brief enough that you miss it. His eyes lid, thumb smoothing across your lower lip. "That's right. You're all mine, aren't you?"

You nod. "Uh-huh."

He smiles at you. Laughs, pleasant and warm and rich. It's an unfamiliar sound - almost carefree. It makes you happy to hear but you try not to let it show so he doesn't get conscious of it. Still, you smile. Stare down at the space underneath and glance at his naked torso and flush all over again.

"Then, allow me," He sits next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He grabs your hand tender and guides you into his lap. The amount of contact is so much unprepared, your knees feel weak. He allows you to straddle him, guides your arms around his neck. You can feel his gaze on you and you squirm but don't move.

"You're very nervous." He points out.

"You're," You feel like the Penacony will fall from underneath your feet "...touching me."

"You're so ruined already, over that?"

You nod. Of course you are. It's Sunday's body you're touching. He never allows you this much unless you've done something to please him greatly. Unless his mood is good. You're used to the silky cloth of his gloves even when he fucks you on his fingers, your cunt dripping onto his nice suit even when he's pleasuring you for hours. He reminds you of the miles between you doing that. A show of power.

So of course the sudden change in that distancing is alarming. Arousal keeps spiking every time you remember. It makes you feel stupid. You're touching his warm skin, seeing the sinew of his shoulders and the way he's built. His core soft and stable, everything dusted with rosy hues. He's slender and beautiful and elegant all over so of course you're wet between your legs, achy and unnerved by just how much your pussy seems to pine after his touch.

Your brain feels like it'll pour out of your ears, the words barely forming to speak.

"It's too much."

He doesn't say anything in reply. His fingers snake between your legs where you're stood on your knees - sliding down slick folds, tentative and amused. "You're so much wetter than usual," Then, with a breathlessness to his voice "Is it really making you feel this way to see me half naked?"

You lock eyes with him. You can't make yourself out in the reflection of his eyes but his face changes. It doesn't matter what you can see, because you know you look desperate. You can never hide how you feel from Sunday, but especially not like this. Vulnerable, you nod curtly - mouth fallen open.

"It's okay," He coos, which are not the words he normally chooses. He normally says that you'll be alright - which is different from this. Restlessness makes your skin prick. "Do you want to know why I'm in a bad mood?"

You nod.

"I thought of you running away," He says, which is typical. But it's too much for it to be just that so you wait. "Going back to your home planet to never return. It wasn't pleasant but I couldn't stop imagining it."

"...Was that really all?"

"Really all? Do you think there's something that would displease me more than that?"

"You really want me to stay with you." You say, less than ask.

"I treasure you," He murmurs, his voice is low. Cold, even - underneath layers of possession. "You are mine to treasure."

"Of course but," You want to look away from his eyes but you find that you cannot. "So much? Do you really?"

He smiles again. It doesn't reach his eyes. "More than you'll ever know." He reaches for your hand and holds them, smiles as you gasp. His lips brush along your knuckles. "So you'll trust me, won't you?"

"Yes. Whatever you want."

"Such dangerous words."

You don't ask he means by that. It wouldn't matter. Wouldn't make it any less true. The tight space that Sunday has carved for you is yours no matter how suffocating. It's yours and you would do so much to please him.

Sunday lets his fingers walk up the curve of your spine. You shiver, watching him. He's pleased somehow, and that's good you think. It's better than him being angry. His hand stops at the nape of your neck, cupping it and rubbing his thumb along your pulse.

"Let me in,"

You don't know what that means until you feel it. Two sensations press against you at the same time. Sunday's abilities - halovian and not. Your eyes close tight at the pressure in your skull, but Sunday's hand in the physical world soothes you. He's reaching you in two ways - two different ways. You know them now.

His powers feel different from his halovian abilities. His powers (or THEIR powers, you suppose) are piercing and needlepoint - never completely pleasant or intended to relieve. He uses them only occasion, and never for too long. The invocation is usually a test of some kind. Even as he mutters the words against your neck now, they illicit that kind of response. It makes your body pulsate. It's pain that only he can deliver and heal - pain that he gives to you, that is yours. It's not harsh enough to incapacitate.

But it's strong enough that the back of your teeth chatter. Your muscles pull, lurching forward to collapse in his arms. Like a hot iron searing your tongue - like a needle going through the softest part of it. Your first are closed into tightly as you allow him inside of your very being. Penetration that outweigh physical, violates you to the core and carves you out tenderly. You're awake and alive and ruined beyond whats mortal. It's not so intense usually. Allowing him to sink in the hollow blankness of your mind and dig his sharp claws into the soft matter. Jolts of electricity spatter along your insides - your mouth open with drool sliding down both end. HE is inside of you. HE intends to control you until he decides to stop.

You open your mouth to speak but the pressure is too strong. Another sensation follows you, then - just after you get used to the first. It's different. It's the gift he was born with, the pleasant throb of halovian telepathy.

You feel your jaw go slack at the overwhelming difference between pain. Complete, unyielding euphoria.

You moan. Your physical body reacts - your clit throbbing so hard it stings, making your entire lower body like it will melt off of you. With a shaky inhale, you feel the full breadth of Sunday's internal emotions. Possession and adoration knit themselves together and move like a caress over every inch of your body. Lightheaded from the pressure, your breathing strains.

There's not a single part of you Sunday is not touching intimately - fingers and palms and tongues. His physical hands, soft and placating rub your pussy and drive you to hysteria. His voice is whispering you words of comfort - to trust and hold on. His emotions twist and dominate yours and everything in you sings back in obedience. You want to cry. And you think you will after your adjusted enough to remember where you end and Sunday begins. If that ever happens. If it's possible experiencing the weight of this.

You're boneless underneath his touch. Your physical body and sensations reach heights far beyond and in true, utter desperation you call his name. You're not usually so spoiled but it's too much and you need him. "Sunday. Kiss me."

You can see yourself almost in third person. His laugh is smooth but breathy, as he lays you down on the mattress and leans over you. He kisses you as you've asked, long and deep - and doesn't pull away even as you lick desperately at his lips. Your nails are clenched into your hand, making them bleed.

He speaks to you clearly.

"You love me don't you?"

The words barely make it out of your mouth. Your heart is pounding. It's not like you can lie like this anyway, but you never would. "Yes. Yes, I love you."

He must feel it. Feels you as much as you feel him because he laughs near jovial and kisses you again. His soft lips slide against your shoulder, your collarbones. "Yes. I love you too. But you know that."

Yes. You do know. There's no way you couldn't.

Your entire body feels weak as Sunday lowers himself further and further. His mouth, warm and inviting - leaves open mouth kisses across the entire expanse of your body. Your nerves feel fried, like they're getting pulled like weeds and laid out.

You know what Sunday's mouth feels like well, but like this is too much. Too much to fast, your spine arches off the back of your bed as his breath ghosts over bare cunt. Gasping, you reach for the sheets behind you. No awareness of your surroundings can save you from it.

Ruthless as always, you feel his tongue slip against your folds and lose sight of the remaining threads of your consciousness. Sunday uses his abilities to stabilize you, says something about how you can't pass out yet. You whine at the back of throat but don't tell him to stop. He praises you for that with another long stripe against your clit.

Sunday is good at knowing your body. Pristine and precise to the point of being scary. He lays his tongue flat and latches himself on you, angular in leading you to your orgasm. Your body is so impossibly sensitive that he barely goes for a minute before you feel yourself shuddering in that familiar desperate way. His feelings come in a wave after that, a pink hue in your eyelids as he expresses his unending praise even after your incredibly premature orgasm.

"Sorry," You mutter, barely breathing as everything swirls inside of you. Your stomach flips. He puts his hand up to hold yours. "Didn't ask for permission."

He laughs at that, bright and pretty. He's pleased with you. You're practically vibrating from need. It's alright. You don't have to ask today."

"Are you...aah...sure?"

"Yes. It was polite of you to ask." He praises, and kisses the inside of your thigh. He licks your pussy again this time with deliberate slowness and you cry out his name. "You're so wet for me. So sweet. Should I use my hands at all or do you think you can take me as is, hm, my love?"

"Give it to me," You slur, unsure if you can hold out on it much longer. "Please, please, please."

"No need to beg. I do like to hear it though." He says, mostly to himself. He kisses you as another wave of sensation enraptures you and leave you limp. You feel it all again, strong to the point of feeling numb. Piercing pain followed by overwhelming, lovesick euphoria. Your body goes limp against the bed, fingers curling into the sheets.

Sunday coos at you. He guides your arms around his neck and guides your hands to his shoulders. "You can hurt me a little."

"Don't want to hurt you."

"I want you too," He says, and you think if you were sober enough it'd feel like a confession. "It's alright. You'll never be sharper than I can handle."

You whimper but concede, letting your nails dig into his flesh hard to keep yourself together. Sunday whispers praise against your neck as you go through the impossible motions of it. It's so much longer than he'd normally put you through his and your body is pushed to it's limits. You know that but he seems pleased with you. You want to please him.

"You're doing well." He praises, softer than ever. "A little more. Just a bit."

The world could be ending outside around you, but you would be completely clueless to it. The only thing, the only thought, the only consideration you can make towards Sunday. His adoration does not feel like the flicker of a candle, but like ball of light curling around itself. It is tight, and hot, and always at risk of exploding itself into something cosmic and unreachable. You wonder if it is possible to love too much, but tell yourself that isn't true.

Even as love makes a mess of you in the physical and metaphysical and all else. Even as it flays you open and guts you and licks you until you are all but hollow yearning, you don't think he loves you too much. You just think that he loves you. If Sunday is all the concentrated light in the universe, you are the eternal darkness meant to make him whole. Your love for him just as deep, like a void that never ends - certain, inevitable darkness.

Your tongue feels heave in your mouth as you kiss Sunday again. A lonesomeness comes every minute you spend apart, even brief. Sunday does not leave you alone for long.

Even as he prepares himself to feel you deeper, he whispers and talks to you. Placating praise leaves tears welling at the corners of your eyes but you nod and listen anyway. You wait for him.

"Take a deep breath." He tells you. He positions himself over you again - though you can barely see or understand as you open your eyes. You blink rapidly, trying to get a sense of his expression even as your mind is gripped at the corners and pulled taut at every edge. Color clouds your vision - hazy making your eyes glass over as you attempt to pry them open. Sunday appears before you like an Aeon in all their glory, beautiful and divine. You sniffle at the sight of him, whimpering at the sensation of his hands on your thighs.

"I love you," You whimper at the touch of his cool hands on your hot skin. "Love you,"

"I know," He says, sliding his cock along your folds with such unwavering affection it makes you gasp. The tip throbs along your clit, sticky with need and you whine. "Shh. I'm here."

You allow him whatever he wants. Your head feels full. Nodding, drunk and floating - you squeeze your eyes close as you feel the tip of Sunday's cock push through you. You wish you could see it better, though you've seen it before. Long and pretty, red tip and neat hair at the base. The sensation makes your tummy flutter, your hands up to his shoulders.

Your pussy weeps at the feeling of him finally entering you, something deep in your body begging for him. Your throat closes, eyes watering at the sensation of being so full as he starts to move. Slow but sure, not intended to pain you - restrained. Everything is full. Heart, body, mind - every inch of you harbors Sunday like he's made you in his image. Your lower half throbs and thrums, a euphoric outpour making your legs wrap around his waist. You don't want him to move. You want him to carve himself in you and stay forever.

Tears fall helplessly as he bottoms out. His waist is pretty, you think - as you see where his meets yours. You see his cock sheathed inside and your mouth drops open. Sunday grinds against you, hot as it touches your sweet spot. Never-ending in his chase to please you.

"Sunday," Your voice is hoarse as he moves his hands to rest between your bodies, thumb brushing along your clit. "I'll cum."

It's more than that. You think if you start, there's no way you're going to be able to stop. The thought frightens you almost. Sunday is quick to assure you.

"It's okay," He tells you, and keeps moving and touching to bring you to the very precipice without any mercy at all. "I know. Your body is mine and it's what I wanted. So," He glances up at you with as mile. "Give me what I ask of you."

Your lips form into a pout because you know you can't say no to that. You wonder why this is what he wants from you, but your brain is too scrambled to even try to deduce it.

Feeling an orgasm this way isn't something you've ever experienced in your life. You can't imagine you ever will again. That much pleasure and sensation, life-ruining - feels like falling through space with no assurance of when you'll crash. Just knowing it will come eventually. Your entire body lurches forward at the full sensation, bursting at the seams. Everything around you melts until you're left with nothing but hot white pleasure racketing along each of your exposed, frayed nerves. You fall away and into nothing. It feels so good you can't speak, can't think, can't do anything but let that nasty sob leave your lips in complete and utter ruin. You cry for Sunday - teary, snotty, pathetic, and you want to beg him for something though you aren't sure it's mercy.

He fucks you through it. The repetitive sensation of your body being fucked while you're lifeless makes your ears ring but Sunday fucks you anyway. Fucks you meaner than you though he was capable of, fucks you precise. Lets his cock fuck into you with such force your cunt is forced to remember him until death do you part. You can only feel Sunday. Every atom of you his, his his.

You spend so much time in that high, you barely know when it stops. Sunday fucks you to his own orgasm and you feel that inside of you too, which only makes you cry longer.

You know it's over when Sunday starts to pull away and you feel unimaginably hollow. Even though it was so hard on your body for the entire duration, you find yourself exhausted when you start to sober up and open your eyes. You see Sunday before closing them again. He is as beautiful as always.

You think you must pass out for a bit, because a breach of time comes where you see nothing but darkness. When you're awake - you're in a bath in the hotel bathroom.

Sunday has not left your side when you're awake again. He looks worried as he sits on the edge of the tub and waits for you.

The water is warm and comfortable. You are tired and very, very hungry. Sunday looks at you but doesn't realize you're awake even as you gaze at him. He seems sad and that saddens you.

"Sunday? Everything okay?"

His eyes open wide when he hears you speak. Your voice is barely there. He's still naked. You blink. "You're not wearing clothes."

He stares at you for a long, long time. And then, afterwards, his bare hand comes up to your cheek and cups your neck. He kisses you deeply, tenderly and it makes you sigh a little to feel. It's unusual. He laughs against your lips.

"I wanted to bathe with you," He says after a long while. You widen your eyes. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, uhm," You nod feeling self conscious. "That's fine."

"And," he holds your hand in the soapy water and lets his thumb smooth against your finger. "Let's eat together. After. Okay?"

You smile to yourself. "Uh-huh. Okay."

You love him you think. There's no such thing as too much. No matter how it would look to anyone else. You think Sunday loves you too. Enough to ruin you completely and put you back together again.

#sunday hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr smut #writing tag #ive gone completely insane #he is so complicated and i am so insane #they're so insane for each other HDFNJKFD

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 month ago

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Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie au #robin buckley #steddie ficlet #steddie spooktober

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pearlymel · 2 months ago

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Ooo I know! It's just a little thought

What if capitano and y/n had their first fight in front of their kid?

"I told you I'm fine." You try convincing your ever so worried husband for the nth time.

The thing was, ever since you gave birth to your daughter, it's like he had a leash on you, not in a bad way. Capitano only wants to protect you and his daughter, and knowing his position as the fatui Harbinger, it had become difficult to keep an eye on both of you 24/7. So he trusts that you would tell him everything by the end of the day.

Capitano's protective nature was both endearing and infuriating at times, but you often appreciated his care. Today, however, his overprotective streak was starting to get under your skin.

The argument started as a simple disagreement about a minor decision, but had quickly escalated into a fiercer discussion.

"i want to keep you and our family safe." He said firmly, and he wishes you'd stop there to understand him.

"I only brought her with me to the market so she can learn how to socialize with people, and for her to experience picking treats with me."

"You were fine this time." he retorted, his voice taking on a slightly higher tone. "But what about the next time?"

You grit your teeth together in frustration, because really, this is getting ridiculous. "Maybe if you didn't think so much about it—"

He doesn't even let you finish before he speaks back, "How can I not think about it? Every time you leave this house, every time you're out of my sight, I can't help but worry." He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, it's rare that he's ever arguing with you, usually when you're upset with eachother, he usually stays quiet.

"You don't understand. My job has shown me the worst of Humanity, the things they're capable of. I just want to keep you safe." Capitano holds on both sides of your arms, "i trust my men enough to accompany you. But i can never be truly sure that you're safe without me." He's upset, you know it by the way his eyebrows wrinkle together.

But you're not convinced just yet, "our daughter wants to go to the park sometimes. Do you know how many times i had to stop myself from refusing her everytime she frowns at me?"

Capitano's expression hardened again at your words, his jaw clenching tightly. "The park is dangerous," he argued back while applying a bit more pressure on your arms, "It's too open, too vulnerable. There are too many unknowns, too much that could potentially harm you and our daughter."

"It's not like we are going to die." You bluntly respond and it makes his eyes widen, even the sentence makes him shiver. He's one and only fear, not seeing you both because of one mistake.

Just as he parted his lips to answer back, a faint sound—a sneeze coming from the corner of the closet. One you recognise so well that it makes you stiffen in your place, and you notice Capitano pressing his lips into a thin line.

You both turn your heads until met by the little girl attempting and failing to hide on the side of the giant closet.

"she's watching," you whisper, glancing back at him and he nods before sliding his hands off you.

"You can come out," he called gently, his voice softer than the previous argument.

He knelt down on one knee as she stepped out from her hiding spot, his eyes wide with innocence and remorse for the argument she had witnessed. "Come here." He encouraged her, his arms opened slightly for her. And she hesitantly walks at first before taking confident steps towards the comfort of her father's embrace.

You join them after, kneeling down at their level and your husband opens his other arm to squeeze you in with them. Capitano's arm wrapped around her small form, holding her close against his chest.

"I'm sorry you saw us arguing," he murmured, "We didn't mean for you to hear all that." You continue softly.

Your daughter's head turned towards you, her eyes filling with tears as she heard your apologies. She looked between you and Capitano, her lower lip trembling slightly. It's like children can mimick their parents current emotions.

"Your mother and I just had a disagreement. We didn't mean to scare you."

"is everything okay?" She whispers quietly while fidgeting with her fingers together, "Yes." You both instantly respond.

her expression is still uncertain. "We promise," you reassured her again before he gives further more reassurance "Everything's okay, angel. Mama and papa are fine. We're not mad at each other. We're just... going to talk things through, okay?"

She then starts slowly nodding, "that's my brave girl." His lips curl upwards as he strokes the strands of her hair.

"and we will take you to the park."

Your daughter's eyes widened, a small gasp of happiness escaping her lips. She looked up at you, her eyes seem to sparkle even.

Meanwhile, Capitano's eyes narrowed at your declaration. He shot you a warning look, silently reminding you of his previous disagreement.

"... With your father of course." You laugh quietly and his shoulders seem to relax, "fine. We will all go."

"yay! Swings!" The little girl grins while excitedly holding her hands together.

"well, aren't you weak for the little angel?" You whisper to your husband, giving him a small smile, already having forgotten about your argument.

Capitano holds you both closer to him, as if relieved to have this little family in his life, the only thing that makes everything more bearable, "she has me wrapped around her little finger, just like her mother."

The link to my short capitano series :p

#you can read the series in my masterlist !!<3 #GUYS NO HE'S NOT ACTUALLY ROTTING 😂🙏 (😭)#il capitano x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #il capitano #capitano x you #il capitano x you #genshin impact #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers

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