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#I hope you love it bc it was a joy to write
ctallena · 2 days
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Hello Dear! I wanted to make a request for main 4 (from South park obvs) where their S/O meets their family's for the first time if that's okey (you can ignore Cartman if you'r not comfortable with writing for him its okey, I get it LMAO) <333
Also I recommend you do the list of things and characters you will and won't do as fast as possible!
Sorry for possible grammer or spelling errors, English is not my first lenguage :))
sure sweetheart!! ill try to do the list as fast as i can, thank you <3 also i get the grammar, english isnt my first language either, everyone starts somewhere and its okay :) also i made the reader female and no cartman, i hope thats okay!
⋆ F!READER MEETING MAIN 3'S FAMILIES FOR THE FIRST TIME :
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✩ — STAN !
at first i feel like it was supposed to be just his mom you would meet
stan does NOT want you to meet his dad.
what if you think stan turns out like him? he doesnt want u to leave him bc of that :(
so he picked a day his dad wouldnt be home on purpose
turns out he actually was home so u met both his parents..
sharon loved you! she thought youre so kind and a perfect partner for her son😭
you didnt talk really much with randy bc stan tried to keep you away from him. i guess randy was just glad that stan isnt "funny"
shelly was actually excited to have another teen girl under the roof
she says youre "meh" but enjoyed meeting you
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✩ — KYLE !
my boy was nevrous bc i feel like sheila has some high expectations
higher than kyle..
even tho its his partner😭
she just wants her son not to end up in drugs or smth
when she meets you shes actually obsessed with you!
buttttt, she still keeps an eye on you
just mothers instinct, but she still likes you!
i guess gerald just went with whatever sheila said, but he thinks youre nice
they definitely want you to come over more
i almost forgot that ike also exists
ike is that type of kid to disturb you two every second no matter what youre doing
he just wants that attention from teenagers
imagine how cool he feels hanging out with 2 teens?!?!!!?!!
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✩ — KENNY !
his parents made some "drunk" talk with you😭
"life's good? yeah?"
no but fr now
kenny tried to get his parents to stay sober for the day you would meet them
but oops they forgot and drank a little
just enough to still luckily remember that they met you
although you didnt talk much with them bc kenny dragged u to his room
and guess what
U MET KAREN
omg dude. karen is so in love with you fr
atp kenny is jealous
its basically the same thing with karen and with ike.
the only different thing is that kyle probably tells ike to go away or sum while kenny actually agrees for karen to stay
he sees how much joy you bring her!!
if karen is happy then kenny is happy too <3
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gimme more requests ygssss
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rosieofcorona · 5 months
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All We Do Not Say
Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕
There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down. 
In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again. 
At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning. 
But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.
Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others. 
Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep. 
Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.
It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone. 
It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.
That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark. 
Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people. 
No trees, no light. No sky. 
Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them. 
He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness. 
On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.
Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday. 
He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else. 
Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before. 
Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep. 
It starts the same way every time. 
Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself. 
He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light. 
Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet. 
A voice comes to him out of the darkness.
“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.” 
“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.
“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection. 
“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.” 
She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes. 
It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.
Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest. 
Perhaps, he thinks, another never has. 
“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.  
“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.” 
There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him. 
Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.” 
“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”
“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.” 
It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking. 
She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible. 
“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.” 
“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.” 
Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”
“If you’ll allow me.” 
Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct. 
“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.” 
“Like this?” “Like that.” 
The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned. 
He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch. 
Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved. 
Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin. 
The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…
“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”
“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.” 
She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his. 
Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?
Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance. 
“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.” 
“Do you want me to stay up with you?”
Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always. 
He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”
“And how long is that?”
“As long as I’m able to concentrate.” 
He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold. 
A focus worth holding, at last. 
“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says. 
“None at all.” 
Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.  
Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.
For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this. 
“Thank you, Gale.”
Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.
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swordheld · 8 months
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how did u choose your username?
oh, this is a fun one!! i think i considered being swordtold at first, for that very ancient myth vibe of the sword being this narrative tool for adventure and structure and physical time, the parable being passed down through the centuries until it meddles into modern day rhetoric and ideology – a kind of fantastical tool, a spark of magic, of possibility.
i like the arc of the story of a place being physical / having it be held by time and hand alike, wearing with the years and having it become something different to each holder, each reader, each experience fantastical and individual.
having that kind of physicality to it; swordheld is the action of taking up and holding the sword yourself, choosing your own narrative, leading your own story. self-identity has always been something i struggle with (a novel concept i know, i know), so it felt right for this blog, since most of my older blogs before this one have been just me silently reblogging and never really posting anything myself, and i wanted this to be the change to that.
i've always had trouble wranging my social anxiety, esp. on the internet, and previously thought that keeping my words to myself helped keep the timeline cleaner, in a way, no messy thoughts for others to sort through, especially ones i believed no one would want to read anyway? but it never felt right, keeping myself apart from it all, esp. not in the way i so avidly enjoyed reading others' posts and additions, keeping their words close to my heart.
i wanted it to reflect that this was a space i was holding for myself? and i'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but this - this i think i got right. i love being here, on this blog, and the joy that it brings me. everyone else enjoying it too has been a wild ride that i never expected, and still surprises me, one that brings a little extra thrill to my heart whenever i think about it.
i had other urls that i liked, but i didn't want this blog to be tied directly to any of my fandom/story interests, since i wanted it to really just be a sort of archive of artistic inspiration and resource, like a little library or museum. i use them now as lil sideblogs of more niche interests now, which is rather lovely.
it hasn't always felt like it fit perfectly, the way that i'd like, but for some reason i can't think of really wanting to change it anytime soon. it feels mythic yet modern in a way that feels like puzzle pieces finally slotting into their place, something my own and inspirational to me, like a lantern i'm holding to make my way by. my own kind of light, if that makes sense – a star i know by name.
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kotaerukoto · 3 months
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Hey everyone, before I go to sleep I just want to say again how grateful I am for everyone bearing with me while I've been so slow recently. Work's been exhausting, I've had a lot of family occurrences, just stuff happening. I think I've realized why getting words down, why writing the characters I love so much has been so difficult. I think I'm going to start experimenting with my writing style again, try out the old way I wrote, and see if that feels more natural to me-- I think I've been trying to constrain my writing into something more "typical". Just wanted to say that before I drop replies tomorrow that have a different style than usual (as in the past year or so).
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love-songs-for-emma · 6 months
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they say that "time heals all wounds" but i honestly think that upping my anti-depressants has done more for me
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miiuusagi · 2 years
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@goldenlaquer HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! ❤️
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nulltune · 1 year
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suuper late but i'm just here reading the tags from shi aka @ardenssolis 's post and i-
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rosyblooom · 23 days
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I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️
when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau
PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶
creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others
charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️
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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍
username all time favourite wag ! 🥰
yourusername ❤️❤️
(liked by author)
username ly girl🫶
username oh she won😩
username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳
username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him
username real
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others
yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂
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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️
yourusername love u so much🥹
username queen🫶
username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌
username that's bc 27 IS young lol
charles_leclerc belle👸
yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧
username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername
yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌
iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗
yourusername my girl 🤍
Three weeks later...
tmz_tv
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liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others
tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.
In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.
During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.
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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes
username a literal ray of sunshine🥹
username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶
username this doesn't feel real...
username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛
username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(
username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔
username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕
username sending prayers to the family 🙏
scuderiaferrari
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liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others
scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.
This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.
Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️
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8 months later...
Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.
If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.
As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.
A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.
Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.
Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.
He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.
The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.
Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.
“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.
“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”
Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”
Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”
“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.
“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”
Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.
“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.
“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”
“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”
“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.
"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."
Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."
Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."
Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”
Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.
“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”
Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.
Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.
“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.
Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”
“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”
Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”
Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”
The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.
A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.
“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.
Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.
“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.
Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”
Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.
“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”
“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”
He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”
“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.
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f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others
f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.
Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.
We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.
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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves
username right?? so respectful🫶
username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready
username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲
username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭
username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕
username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls
username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!
username 😭😭😭
4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44
1K notes · View notes
yourmidnightlover · 2 months
Text
the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
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you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
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taintedcigs · 1 year
Text
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✦ STRAWBERRIES & CREAM | steve h. x reader ✦
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wc: 2k+
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! swearing, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, princess, etc.) p in v, praises!! lots of praises! degrading if u squint really really hard but not really!! slight dom!steve, but mostly soft!dom!steve, sub!reader, kind of a breeding kink, creampie, steve is v horny, aftercare!! shitty aftercare bc i suck at writing endings JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI!!!
summary: you make steve a strawberry cake, and steve wants to return the favor.
authors note: FIRST TIME WRITING STEVE SMUT IM EXCITED!! im so very sorry about the shitty ending and the shitty aftercare, i had shitty men so i cannot write good aftercare OKAY!!! nah im jk hope yall enjoy it, PLS PLS leave me some feedback they r my joy and hope!! ALSO COME TALK TO ME IN ASKS, OR SEND ME PM IM V FRIENDLY I LOVE TALKING TO PPL okay that's it enjoy!! mwah xo, em💌
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steve loves it. he absolutely loves when you do something for him, he adores the pretty smile you give him when he tells you how much he loves whatever it is you did for him.
but he can't help but get horny, so fucking horny when you do something for him. anything. when you bring him coffee at work, he's hard as a rock. when you take care of him after a stressful day, he's grateful, so grateful, but his bulge is tightening his pants.
and right now, when he sees you in your tight little sun dress as you're holding out a strawberry cake, his favorite, he knows he's about to explode.
he groans, actually groans as you dip your finger in the frosting holding out your fingers in front of his lips, his cock is strained in his pants, he needs you, and he needs you now.
his gaze remains attached to yours as he sucks on your finger, the rich flavors engulf his mouth, and he makes a popping sound causing you to rub your thighs together with the way his gaze devours you.
'what d'ya think?' you give him a small smile, excited for his feedback as you spent the entire day working on steve's favorite cake.
'tastes so fuckin' sweet, darlin' he murmurs as you giggle, looking up to him all doe-eyed, and steve swears you're doing it on purpose.
'do you like my surprise?' you ask, your eyes are lit up with hope and steve is putty in your hands, he adores the way your face is covered in flour, and he's quick to swipe it away, admiring your features.
'i love it, baby, you made this just for me?' he teases, his soft hands cup your cheeks, and you nod quickly, melting into his hands.
'mhmm, just for you stevie.' you murmur as you plant a kiss into his palm, and it's so soft, so fragile that steve feels perverted by the way he's thinking about you.
but he's desperate, so fucking desperate that all he wants to do is bend you over the counter and thrust into you till you scream out his name, making you cum over and over again while he watches your pretty face contort.
'wanna taste some too, stevie.' you whine as you point towards the cake, steve's pants tighten at what you're insinuating and he bites his cheek, his fingers dip into the frosting as he holds it in front of you.
you are quick to take his hand in yours, licking the frosting as you suck on his finger, all while holding your gaze with his, and you can almost see his pretty chestnut orbs become dark and lustful.
'you have no idea what you're doing to me, princess.' he sucks in a breath, 'fuck.' he almost groans and you look up at him all innocently.
'my pretty girl.' he murmurs as his lips crash into yours, they taste like strawberries and cream, he's gentle but rough, and so very needy.
'need you baby, need you s'fuckin' badly.' he groans into your lips, 'stevie...' you whine, pleading.
'what does my pretty girl need?' he cooes. 'you. need you inside.' you whine, so needily, so prettily that steve has no choice but to take care of his girl.
before you can comprehend it steve is quick to bend you over the kitchen counter, pressing your head on the cold counter with one hand while the other one is quick to unzip his pants.
'i got you, baby... i'm gonna give you everything you fuckin' need, princess.' he flips up your dress, groaning at the sight as he gives you a rough slap on your cheeks, making you yelp.
'shh, princess... you can take it, mmm? my good lil' girl can take it.' he lays a messy kiss on your back, giving you another slap as you whine again.
'p-please... need more, need your cock, stevie...' you plead, and steve pouts. 'such a needy lil' baby, are ya?' he mocks, and you nod, you want— need him.
his tip is leaking with pre-cum as he gives it a few tugs at the sight of your ass cheeks being covered with his handprints, he smirks, smugly. 's'fuckin' gorgeous...' he murmurs, he tugs at your lacy panties, dragging them down your thighs.
he's slow to kiss every inch of your thighs, he spreads them apart, placing sloppy kisses in your inner thigh from the back as your breath hitches, 'stevie...' you murmur.
'you say my name so pretty.' he praises, 'tell me what you want, doll.' he's teasing now as his lips come close to your pussy lips, but never close enough that you get what you need.
'p-please, stevie, your hands, your mouth, your cock, anything...' you plead, doe-eyed, and steve knows he could never say no to you.
'pretty baby, you know i would never say no to you if you begged for me like that, hmm?' he cooes, standing up now, cowering over your figure, his eyes are glazed with lust, you can't see him with your ass pressing onto his hardened cock, but from the tone of his voice you know how worked up he is.
his fingers are rough as they pinch your clit, causing you to whine. he slips one finger into your soaking folds, going deeper and deeper as you cry out, begging for more.
'is this what you wanted, sweets?' he murmurs, his lips are on your neck, sucking, nibbling, marking you in any way that he can.
'yes, yes!' you whine, steve's fingers are fast as they work in and out of you, his mouth is on each part of your body, almost. you can feel his thick cock, pressing harder against your ass, and it is driving you crazy, you need him inside of you.
'n-need more, stevie. need your cock.' you plead.
'does my good lil' girl want my cock inside?' he cooes, mockingly, making you nod frantically, 'yes, please stevie, please!' you cry out.
'what my pretty girl want, she gets.' he murmurs as he lines his angry tip along your entrance. he holds his cock with one hand while the other has a tight grip on your waist, then to tease you further, he starts tapping his leaking tip against your aching clit, letting out a hum.
you whine at the movement, feeling empty. 'such a pretty fuckin' sight, my gorgeous girl.' mewled groans escape his pretty lips, without letting a whine escape your pretty lips again he thrusts his hips into you in a quick movement, causing you to gasp at the feeling.
with both of his hands, he grips your waist, sheathing his cock inside of you slowly and more steadily now, bending you over further as he works his cock inside of you making you moan and whimper beneath him.
'f-fuck, princess. i'll never get used to how well this tight cunt takes me." his voice is raspy.
"so fuckin' warm.' he groans, his head thrown back as you feel your tight cunt stretch with each of his movement.
he sinks deeper, and deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt, making sure that you feel every ridge, every inch of his cock.
he brings one of his hands against your head, pressing you further into the counter as he thrusts further into you, causing you to suck in a breath when his ridge pushes against your clit again.
'harder, stevie, p-please...' you cry out and steve groans at your words, the way you beg him for more makes him squeeze his eyes shut with pleasure.
'my needy fuckin' girl.' he groans as he removes his cock from your warm pussy, and it almost causes you to whine because of the emptiness, begging for him to fill you up, but before you can steve pushes his girthy cock inside of you again, deeper, and harder.
all the thoughts leave his head, the only thing he cares about now is how you are bent over beneath him, begging for more, crying out his name as your ass jiggles each time he holds a tighter grip and shoves his cock inside of your tight hole.
all he cares about is how warm and tight your cunt feels, and all you care about is how well he fills your hole, so big, and his cock is ridged in all the right places that make you scream out his name.
he's not slowing down as he keeps up his thrusts, he wants you creaming his cock, screaming out his name as he fills your walls with his load.
he wants to ruin you and put you back together all at the same time, he wants you desperate, begging to him to let you cum, over and over again, until your clit is so sensitive that you cannot handle it anymore.
the room is filled with steve's curses and his praises, 'takin' me so well sweets.'
'such a good lil' girl for me, aren't ya?' and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other.
'need to cum, stevie. can i please cum?' you plead, whining still, and steve tries to slow down to not let you cum, but he can't help himself, his movements are still quick and he cannot control his pace when you teasingly arch your ass against him, causing your tight cunt to engulf around his cock, he throws his head back in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut.
'f-fuck, baby, doin' so well for me, you can cum for me, babygirl.' he cooes as he bites onto your shoulder to hold himself from spilling his load into you. 'cum for me sweets, cream my cock.'
'i wanna feel you, princess. i wanna feel every fucking inch of this sweet pussy.' he groans as he strokes into you over and over again.
your warm cunt clamps around his cock, steve feels you release through his cock as you cry out for his name.
steve can't hold it in anymore, your pretty whines, the way you moan out his name, and the 'o' shape your pretty little lips take as you orgasm around him is enough to get him to empty his balls inside of you.
's-shit baby, can't hold it in much longer.' he curses.
'cum for me, stevie. wanna feel your warm load inside me.' you whine, praising him, and he groans loudly.
with a final thrust of his lips into your soaked warm cunt, he spills his seed inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse inside of you, it's warm and fills your hole to the brim.
steve groans loudly, and it's so blissful to your ears, he's so beautiful when he's loud and whiny, you think to yourself as your head is filled with nothing but steve.
he collapses on top of you, putting all of his weight onto you, hugging you from behind as you can hear his heavy breathing, still cursing as he praises you.
'my good lil' girl, pretty lil' baby.' he murmurs as he kisses your shoulders, when he's sure that every single drop of his cum is inside of you, he finally slips out.
he turns you around to face him, and you collapse in his arms, feeling dizzy, you hum. 'you're s'good, stevie.' you murmur weakly and it causes a smug chuckle out of steve, he gives your forehead a soft kiss.
'let's get you cleaned up, sweetheart.' you gaze up at him as he picks you up, carrying you with his strong arms.
his honey-glazed eyes are mesmerizing as they look down on you, you adoringly admire his features. he's so pretty after he cums, his beautiful hair lays messily on his forehead, and he has the most adoring gaze.
'wanna take a bath with me? so we can clean you up, pretty girl?' he asks, and you nod. 'mhmm, please.'
he carries you to the bathroom, and you let your hands run over his face, admiring his beauty marks and his always-perfect hair.
'so pretty.' you murmur as steve places you down, running the shower as he chuckles at your comment.
'thank you.' he hums as he places a kiss on your forehead, it's gentle and filled with endearment.
'for what?' you ask, confused.
'for the cake, for the coffees, for all the little things you do for me. and for caring about me, always.' his hands are soft as they cup your cheeks.
'i love you, pretty girl.' he murmurs.
'i love you too, stevie.' you giggle as your lips softly graze against his.
3K notes · View notes
awrkive · 7 months
Text
[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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azullumi · 9 months
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“something about you” ; genshin men
summary — it hasn’t been that long since the two of you became a couple, first time in simple things occurs and how does he react? ; you call him ‘love’, accidentally or intentionally, for the first time, and he’s absolutely whipped for you.
includes — various genshin men (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, established relationship, they’re very very inlove with their s/o, also might be ooc bcs in not sure if the others fit in one of the scenario ; scenarios/multiple in one
note — finally i got to write something 1! also another one coming later i just need tk sleep
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“love, can you give me that?
“sure.” he’ll answer without a moment’s hesitation, handing you what you need and it is only then that he’ll process what you have said before he could even focus back on what he was doing earlier.
“wait.” he pauses, turning to you with a confused look on his face. he isn’t entirely sure if what he heard was correct or just his mind playing tricks on him but he hopes that he wasn’t dreaming. you hum, eyebrows raised at him and he opened his mouth, “can you say that again?”
“say what again?”
“like what you said.”
you furrow your eyebrows, baffed, “...can you give me that?” there was a slight intonation in your voice indicating your confusion in this matter. while he was out here in front of you with a mind completely jumbled and thoughts roaring in the lack of certainty, you were there standing in front of him with a perplexed expression on your features as you couldn’t understand him.
“no, i mean– before that.”
“before what? you’re confusing me.”
“you know what i’m talking about.”
“no, i don’t!” you immediately object. you don’t know what in the world is he trying to say. you’re just trying to finish some of your tasks and he’s trying to make you repeat what you said which you already did. “i genuinely don’t know what else do you want me to say. it’s not like i said something that–” your words from earlier played quickly inside your head, the first one, to be exact.
“oh.” you falter, “oh.”
he notices the realization trickling through your tone and expression, “yeah… so do you know now?”
“i just did that, didn’t i?” he nodded and you sighed. “and what’s the big deal?”
“it’s a big deal! that was the first time.”
“seriously, love?”
“you did it again!” his eyes sparkled, ears perked up as a smile beaming with joy was plastered on his face. excitement was evident on each and every corner of his being.
“oh, dear…”
“was that meant to be me or…” and you only made a small gesture at him for him to shut his mouth in which he did. although, you couldn’t contain the small curve that tugs on your lips.
“but will you call me that again?”
“no,” and he groans despite recognizing the deceitful timbre in your words.
childe, itto, kaveh, heizhou, kaeya
“okay.” 
it was just a single word, a four-letter one but you couldn’t ignore how his tone sounded rather… cheery and though in normal occasions, you wouldn’t mind nor even notice but right now, there was some hint of an unfamiliar feeling on it. it’s like he’s plotting something. then he spoke up once again as he brings you what you were asking for, “here it is, love,” adding an emphasis to the endearment that he just called you.
“thank you?” you failed to hide the bewilderment in your expression as well as your voice but he only smiled at you and replied with the same tone as the look on his face, “you’re welcome, love.” 
a brief silence ensued between you two as you nailed your gaze at him, trying to decipher his guise and take a loot at the inside of his mind and he seems to find amusement in your attempt; he doesn’t break his demeanor which infuriates you more.
you grumble and he chuckled, “what’s wrong, my love?”
“you.”
he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head for a bit. “why? what did i do wrong, my dear?”
but realization creeps up to you, albeit in a slow manner as if you were still taking it in and accepting it; it was similar to a snail climbing up your leg, uncomfortable and hateful. “did i just call you…” and he nods with the same smile that he has since earlier, an affirmation to your suspicion.
“i really did?”
“yes, you did, love.” and though it’s just one word, a single-syllable one word, with the way he uses it, it feels like a frying pan being repeatedly hit on your head. oh, so that’s why you were feeling off about his air earlier.
“why? is there a problem, love?”
“stop that.” you already feel embarrassed enough and yet he’s here prodding into it and making it worse by teasing you. he laughs, short and soft, then replies sweetly, “there’s no need to be shy now, is there?” he approaches you, hands swiftly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him, closing in the distance between you two. you couldn’t speak, not like he was giving you a chance to do so.
“it sounds so pretty coming from your mouth.” so you should call him like that more often.
childe, ayato, kaeya, pantalone, wanderer
he stiffened up, processing what you said and you didn’t fail to notice it especially when you had your hand out and empty for almost half a minute–there was no sign of movement from him either–, expecting for him to place the thing that you’ve been asking for on top of your palm. you turned your head towards him, calling out to his name and snapping him out of it. 
“the book, please?”
“oh, right.” he laughs rather awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck before proceeding on doing what you had asked him. finally, he places the book in your hand but he still seems to be in a trance, eyes distracted, and you couldn’t help but to worry.
“are you alright?” concern drips from your voice and he hummed, eyebrows raised as he feigned a look on his face that says he’s fine. “oh, yeah. i am, i totally am. i’m just a little bit distracted.”
but you know him all too well that he wasn’t telling you the truth. you didn’t respond, gaze trained at his face in silence, seeking for a falter in his fake expression and he breaks; he doesn’t like how well you can read him as if he’s an open book–not like he hates it, however. sighing, he spoke up once again, “you just called me ‘love’ for the first time,” and it’s probably an accident, those words died out on his throat.
“i did, yeah but it wasn’t an accident.”
astonishment fills his face, “oh?”
you hum, nodding your head before you speak in a soft voice. “does it…” your voice trails out and you fidget with your fingers, “...bother you?”
“no, no, it doesn’t.” he’s quick to protest, shaking his head in a panic as if he’s afraid that he might have accidentally hurt your feelings. “it doesn’t bother me, it will not. i actually love it.”
“really?”
“really.” he spoke firmly but gently and he placed his hand on top of yours, fingers snaking through yours and perfectly fitting with your own as if it were two puzzle pieces. he whispers, “my beloved.”
honestly, you could call him with a sweet endearment or a horrible one and he’ll still get the butterflies.
thoma, kazuha, diluc, baizhu, kaveh
he hums, quick to finish the request you have asked him and giving you what you needed before returning to what he was doing prior. it makes you wonder if he really heard what you said, choosing to ignore some, or a single word or maybe he did hear it and he just doesn’t care. you tried to give it a try, calling him not by his name but by an endearment, a sweet yet simple one but there was no reaction from him. 
unbeknownst to you, however, everything was a complete opposite to your thoughts.
he’s thinking, like not just some thinking but deep thinking, deep, deep thinking as if he’s contemplating a decision that could cause the end of the world if he doesn’t think of it properly when it’s literally just a word, 4 letters and 1 syllable. god, you have him on such a tight hold that you have him losing his rationality over a 2 consonant, 2 vowel term.
“you okay?” he was pulled out of the train of his thoughts and he hums, nodding. “i’m fine. i’m just thinking of something.” of what you said. he distracts himself with something else, continuing the task that he left off earlier and trying to finish it–gods above, he just wants to hear you say it again.
“just call me if you need anything.” you say and he only inclined his head as a response. it was quiet once again, a little bit tense but you could manage, in some sense, it was also comforting and peaceful (honestly, you were doing everything you can to not think of what he’s thinking because he’s been oddly silent and you just couldn't understand him).
however, he’s thinking, still. i mean, aside from confessions and simple ‘i love you’s, it’s the first time he had heard you call him in an endearment and that one at that in a rather casual setting: you have asked him for something, that was it. the way you said it sounded so natural, so smooth, as if you have practiced saying it multiple times–in which, you probably did but he doesn’t know of. he just can't wrap his head around it and he fears that his thoughts are going to come out of his mind at this point, it was loud and muddling the insides of his head.
love.
he repeats it inside his head.
you’re going to be the death of him, at this point.
alhaitham, xiao, zhongli, albedo, cyno, tighnari
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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facefullofsadness · 2 months
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I'm gonna combine all 3 of these bc they're all kinda the same, hope u anons enjoy!
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content - sub!yunjin x dom!reader, smut (phew let's see, cunnilingus, edging, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, some corruption kink, some g!p reader)
wc - 970
a/n - the first anon is real, never escaping writing huh yunjin! am I complaining though? nope! love my rockstar tall hot perfect gf! lemme write her as a literal sub this time LOL
okay so sub yunjin.
I stand by the whole auditory thing, she loves sound. so not only does she love hearing your moans, her moans, the lewd sounds coming from her cunt, any of the above, but also dirty talk. you love to rile her on by whispering naughty things in her ear and watching her body stiffen.
she's not sensitive and loves foreplay. 70 percent of having sex with yunjin is foreplay, her relishing in the feeling of your skin touching her's and the pleasure gradually building the more you proceed. this way, when you get down to actually fucking her, her body is so incredibly responsive.
dropping to your knees to push her skirt up and panties to the side, sliding your tongue against her slit and filling your mouth with her slick, yunjin moaning out into the hot air surrounding you two. her thighs tremble on either side of your head and her hand threads through your hair, the other hand holding her skirt up to let you do your thing.
loud, responsive, and needy. yunjin whimpers with every swipe of the wet muscle trailing her clenching hole, hips jerking with every brush of your tongue against her clit, and whining your name like it's the only thing she can coherently remember in her brain clouded with lust. pleas for more leak from her lips when you tease her because oh my god is it amusing to see her so ruined by your touch.
and the joy it brings you to see her cry out for you when you deny her another orgasm, her body thrashing and tears welling at her eyes because you're so mean :( needs to cum so badly but you won't let her because "baby, I'm so sorry but you don't deserve it yet."
"I've been such a good girl though, please please god please let me cum. I-I can't take it anymore...!"
you bring your hand to cup her cheek and use your thumb to wipe her tears, cooing as she rubs her thighs together to suppress the orgasm, "you know I can't cum if you don't do it."
"I know my love, just hang in there," you shoot her a warm smile to comfort her as you plunge three long fingers into her pussy, making her scream out and tears trail down her cheeks.
forcing her legs open and smacking her ass if she dare close them. mumbling absolute nonsense as her hole sucks your fingers in more and more with each pump, her eyes rolled back and hands clutching the bedsheets. you'd keep aggressively fingering her until she'd squirt all over your hand, arm, and the sheets, continuing till she's completely overstimulated and forcing another orgasm out of her, giving her all the climaxes she had been begging for minutes prior.
alternatively in a g!p reader world, you'd pull out your fingers, denying her another orgasm and forcing a sob to escape her throat. you pull back from her and hover over her shaking body, tears staining her cheeks, hair absolutely tousled, hands clenching at your shoulders enough to hurt.
"wanna cum baby? need it? tell me, tell me how badly you want me to fuck you until you cum."
yunjin cries, pulling you in to bury her face into your neck and beg, "y/n-ie please! it hurts so bad! fuck me! ruin me until I fall apart, please please... use your fingers, bury your tongue in me, fill my pussy with your cock, just please!! it's aching!!"
your eyes darken and lip slides into a smirk as she trembles under you, begging to be fucked senselessly, it would be a shame if you didn't listen to her! and so you did!
kissing her tear-stained cheek and whispering a reassuring okay into her ear before pulling back and resting the tip of your cock against her entrance, swiping up and down to collect enough of her wetness.
looking yunjin in her watery and pleading eyes before slamming yourself into her, a scream ripping from her mouth. her moans deafeningly loud with every intense thrust of your hips into her soaking hole. you pant into her ear and she grips onto you for dear life. her cunt clenches onto your throbbing member and it's difficult to move with every stroke, but you power through because she feels so fucking good, taking everything you give her so well.
she blabbers incoherently and murmurs continuous thank you's as you ram into her with no mercy, your pace impossibly fast. the sheer amount of slick and spit on and in her pussy makes everything so easy and pleasurable that you can't help but to feel like exploding soon. you hold her legs wide open and push deeper, bottoming out into her and feeling her cervix on your tip, making her throw her head back and your nails sink into her plush thighs.
you continue to rail her, completely pussy drunk and obsessed with how corrupted yunjin looks under you, a shell of the former confident hot girl you knew. nothing but a fuck doll, begging to be ruined by you. rubbing your fingers against her clit and watching as it sends her over the edge, her legs wrapping around your waist, her hands digging into your back, her throat sore with another scream erupting from her throat, her cunt gushing with cum against your pelvis. you cum deep inside of her, spurting out ropes of white liquid into her, filling her to the brim with your seed.
both of your guys' legs shake with pleasure as you fall on top of her borderline lifeless body. she's panting and gasping, trying to grapple onto air as you lick along her neck, tasting her sweat and smirking against her shoulder, her squirming with every action.
a/n - pretty short bc there's no concept behind it, it's more just headcanon/thoughts!!
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allysunny · 2 months
Note
Hiii! Could you do 14+n with Bruce? 🤭 I know it takes a lot of effort to write but the fact that word count is a lot is not only bc he is bae (he’s the only man ever actually) but also bc YOU are suuuper talented. It’s insane. Anyway, than u in advance ❤️
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“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me” + Pregnancy + Bale!Bruce Wayne
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Words: 4.1k words
Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, a bit of crack (Bruce is so funny he could be a stand up comedian), Alfred is also hilarious, lots of protective Bruce and Alfred, it's just an overall very fluffy and sweet fic!! Not proofread though, so if I forgot anything, let me know!
A/N: Hey everyone! Here's another entry from my 200 Followers Event! This was so fun to write oh my god!!! I am a firm believer in the fact that Bruce Wayne would be an amazing partner, and a very fun person to be around. I truly think he'd have the most beautiful relationship with his partner, and I tried to convey it here!
So, I hope this was up to your expectations, and that you love it as much as I do!!!!
ᴬˡˢᵒ ᵒᵐᵍ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿˢ, ᴵ'ᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ʸᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵛᵉʳʸ ʰᵃᵖ���ʸ, ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿ!!! ᴰᵃᵐⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᴮᵃˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱᶜᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˡᵒᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ ˡᵒˡ
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The first thing you thought as you walked down the stairs of Wayne Manor was “We should get an elevator”, followed by “I’m never walking down these godforsaken stairs again”.
You weren’t lazy, not quite.
It was just extremely hard doing so now that your stomach was as big as a basketball.
You reached the bottom of the stairs and leaned against the marble railing, sighing deeply.
“Look, I love you, I really do. You’re my little bundle of joy, and you’re not even here yet,” you mumbled, placing a small hand on your stomach to support it. “But you need to give your mommy a break, alright? I can barely walk, and your dad wants to put me in a wheelchair. And we’re stubborn, baby, we are. So, we gotta prove to him we’re still capable of doing things on your own. Thing you can do that?”
You were met with a weird sensation; one you’d felt countless times before. Your baby was kicking. You didn’t think that to be a coincidence – you liked to assume your child was replying to whatever you said. You spoke to him quite often, mumbling about your day, telling him about all the things you did at the Manor or whenever you were out and about. Bruce was pretty sure you were already the baby’s favourite since he seemed to calm his kicking fits pretty quickly whenever you spoke to him.
You smiled at your bump and caught your breath, making your way towards the living room.
Alfred was in the kitchen, brewing a small cup of tea. He placed it on top of a silver tray and came out of the room. Once he got a good look at you, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and he hurried to place the tray down and rush to your side.
“Madam Wayne, what in the bloody hell are you doing?” he asked, taking your arm. Alfred, just like Bruce, had taken a liking to assuming you weren’t even capable of opening water bottles by yourself. “I thought I told you to let me know once you came downstairs.” His tone was stern, but you could tell apart the layers upon layers of care.
“Alfred, if I take you up on that offer every time you make it, I’ll become spoiled. That’s not a message I want to pass on to my son,” you replied with a soft chuckle.
Alfred led you to the couch, where you sat down and groaned in relief. You were about 8 months pregnant, and absolutely huge, and everything felt terrible and uncomfortable. Bruce doted on you immensely, but you just wanted it to be over, wanted to get this baby out of you and into your arms.
“Your son is the heir to the Wayne name, Madam. I believe he will grow spoiled whether you like it or not.”
“Bruce will not be spoiling our child, Alfred,” you scoffed, “You know I won’t let him.”
“No one said anything about Master Wayne.” Was his reply, paired up with a cheeky grin.
You chuckled and tried leaning over to fetch the cup of tea Alfred had prepared. He of course did not let you, grabbing it before you had a chance to. He handed it to you with a soft “Here you go” and a cheeky smile.
Ever since you’d gotten pregnant, it was like Bruce and Alfred alike had made some sort of devilish deal to take upon themselves every burden and chore of yours. You were no longer allowed to do laundry, help Alfred with the dishes, tend to the garden, you weren’t even allowed to cook dinner for your husband anymore.
Instead, you were told to rest and not worry yourself and not tire yourself out.
It was annoying when Bruce did it, although you knew he had the best intentions at heart, but it was even worse when Alfred did it. Alfred, of all people. Your partner in crime, your close friend, the one who teamed up with you against Bruce, the one who made sure to always keep you in the loop of whatever was going on, the one person you knew you could trust in a sea of snobs and fake smiles (aside from Bruce, of course).
You often joked he’d betrayed you, no longer joining you to prank Bruce or get him to leave his office or his cave. No, now, it was the other way around, and you felt like you’d been stabbed in the back.
“One day you’re going to wake up, and I’m going to be shopping all by myself, far away from the both of you,” you sighed and sipped from your tea. It was your favourite and tasted as lovely as always – Alfred was almost like a magician.
“And risk giving Master Wayne a heart attack? What a loving wife you are.” Alfred replied smugly. “I guess true love really does manifest in the strangest of ways.”
“You’re a viper, Alfred,” you sighed. “A vicious, sneaky little viper.”
“Happy to be of service, Madam.”
You groaned.
That’s another thing you’d lost after the pregnancy – the privilege of having Alfred calling you by your actual name as opposed to any fancy titles. It had taken him a few years and a lot of begging from you; you were far too tired of “Mrs. Wayne” and you considered him more than a butler, but rather a friend, so why couldn’t he just address you by your name? And you’d managed to do it. Little by little, Alfred was calling you by your name, ditching the titles.
That was, until you said you were pregnant.
Now, not only you were back to titles, but you were also Madam.
When you’d asked Alfred why the sudden change, he said, “Not only you are Mrs. Wayne, but you are also carrying on the legacy of this family. You are Master Wayne’s wife, and now the mother of his children. It would be informal to refer to you as anything less than that.”
Safe to say, you were screwed.
You loved your guys, you did. Alfred played a huge role in your life, being friend and confidante and a father figure all at once. And Bruce was the love of your life.
But sometimes, all you wanted to do was strangle both to death.
“If you need anything, Madam, just call.” Alfred said before standing up.
“You know I won’t.”
“I know bloody hell you won’t, but I’ll be here nonetheless.”
You smiled and grabbed the book that was by your side, deciding on some light reading. The sun was shining brightly and casting a warm glow over the vast living room of Wayne Manor. You smiled at the sight. You loved peaceful afternoons like this, where the sun warmed your face and tickled your feet, and you could relax for a bit.
Today though, you were simply trying to pass time until Bruce arrived.
He was taking you out for a stroll in the park later, something you’d been begging for a while now, and you couldn’t wait.
It’s not like he kept you locked up inside the Manor – not at all. You were not a prisoner he held captive. He was just protective. Bruce had lost so much in his life; now that he had you and you were giving him a child, he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you weren’t taken from him as well. He did not forbid you to go outside or carry on with your usual life – he was simply careful. Ever since you started showing, Alfred was to accompany you anywhere you needed to go, along with a bodyguard Bruce had hired just for you.
Bruce knew how cruel Gotham could be, and how vicious journalists and paparazzi could act just for a scoop, so he made sure to try and keep you safe, even if he wasn’t there to do it himself. And you had to admit, he’d been right. More than once had paparazzi tried to get pictures of your baby bump, or tried to interview you while you ran errands or shopped. It was draining, and you partly understood Bruce’s paranoia with your safety.
When you hit the 7-month mark and your belly had considerably grown in size, he was more alert than ever. You couldn’t leave the house without being accompanied, and if you wanted to go out at night, you had to let him know where and with who in advance. Not to control your every move (well, kind of to control your every move), but just to keep you safe, should he be out as Batman and couldn’t go out with you. And how could you not understand where he came from? Everyone knows poor Bruce Wayne’s story. Losing both his parents at a young age, being away from his own city for so long, leading an extremely lonely life all these years. He was not going to lose the one person that had brought him so much joy and hope for the future.
At first it had annoyed you a bit. “I’m pregnant, Bruce. I can still do things,” you had told him.
But one night, you caught him in your bedroom, shaking and crying. Earlier, you’d been intercepted by a few journalists – fanatics, more accurately – who’d cornered you against a wall and bombarded you with questions, even going as far as touching you, pushing you and pulling you so you’d be near their microphones and answer their questions. Bruce had been fetching your drink from a coffee chop nearby, while you waited for him outside (the line was long and it was bustling with activity, and Bruce did not want you near all the confusion), and he’d only caught sight of you when he came out, drinks in hand, and spotted your teary eyed expression, trying to get away from the reporters. The drinks were forgotten and spilled all over the sidewalk once they hit the floor, and Bruce was by your side in a flash, yelling at them and threatening them repeatedly. You were quick to hold onto him, terrified, and he wrapped his arm around you protectively, a cruel expression on his face.
And later when you got home, you’d caught him crying. You’d walked up to him and asked if everything was alright, and he had begged for your forgiveness. He kept mumbling about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten there on time, about how terrible of a husband he was, leaving you all alone on the street, and about how you didn’t deserve him.
You’d sighed and pulled him up to kiss his lips softly.
“You’re an amazing husband,” you’d whispered in the quietness of your bedroom. “The best I could have ever asked for. And you have nothing to apologize for. It’s fine. We’re fine. Please don’t beat yourself up over it, I beg of you.”
Bruce had taken your face in his hands and kissed you, promising without words to do better, to be better. You kissed him back, assuring him no promises were needed.
The following morning, every news channel was flooded with reports of numerous journalists being fired due to the harassment of Bruce Wayne’s pregnant wife.
You’d looked at Bruce over your coffee, and he’d smugly ignored you.
Bruce had taken the news of your pregnancy extremely well. Of course he’d moped and worried for a while, commenting on how he had a duty as Batman, but also as your husband, nearly trying to figure out a way to split himself into two jus so he was able to take care of both, but a serious talk with Alfred (which you overheard partially by accident) sent him on the right track.
From that moment onward, Batman wasn’t in the picture as much. He did not give the mask up altogether – Bruce wasn’t going to stop trying his best for the city, and he had to make sure the tabloids did not put one and one together (even though no one in the public eye would ever guess the Bruce Wayne to be the Dark Knight) – but his mind was always on you.
And perhaps it was a good thing because Gotham seemed to be flourishing. Crime rates had gone down, and people walked a bit more safely at night. It was a breath of fresh air, knowing that Gotham could be transformed like that. Besides, Bruce did not want to worry you. Worry and stress were terrible for the baby, so he promised he’d do his best to give you none.
So far, it had worked, and your relationship had never been better.
Speaking of the devil, Bruce walked inside the living room, loosening the knot on his tie. His face looked tired, and sported a frown, something that you picked up on almost immediately.
“Good afternoon, handsome.” You smiled at him, and could see the way his shoulders visibly relaxed, how his feet moved towards you like second nature, the way his frown was quickly replaced by a smile.
“Good afternoon, beautiful.” Bruce sat by your feet and took your hands in his, as he usually did. He bent over to kiss you tenderly and place a quick peck on top of your belly before asking, “How’s our little peanut doing?” He rubbed soothing circles on your skin, and you melted into his touch, as you often did.
“Very active, as always. Hasn’t stopped kicking and won’t let me walk two steps without expressing its discontentment.” You huffed, before realising the words that had just left your lips. “But I’m fine,” you were quick to add, “Extremely fine, and we can totally still go for a walk in the park. It’s fine. I’m fine. Honest.”
Bruce eyed you curiously, and you recognised in his eyes the look he always gave you when he was trying to read you. Right now, you assumed he was trying to figure out whether you meant it or not.
“I swear. I’m fine. He’s just active. Come on, help me up. Let’s go.”
“Darling, are you sure?” he asked, lovely brown eyes filled with so much concern it made your stomach churn a bit. You hated seeing him like this. You knew it wasn’t your fault though – neither was it his. He was just a good husband. “If you’re tired, we can stay in. Watch a movie, order some takeout maybe – “
“Bruce, I promise,” you repeated, cupping his jaw. “He’s just active. Takes after his father.”
“Whoever that may be,” he joked, earning a chuckle from you.
“Now, help me up. I’m huge and want to go for a stroll with my husband.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Bruce helped you stand up and wrapped his arms around you. He brought you close and kissed you properly this time, lips trailing over yours as his tongue explored your mouth. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks and you smiled into the kiss, sighing in delight.
“Are you trying to distract me, Mr. Wayne?” you asked, peeking through your lashes.
“Maybe. Is it working?” he replied.
“Maybe. But not entirely. Come on. The weather is really nice today, and I really don’t wanna miss it. I’m going to get extremely upset with you if you kiss me out of going for a stroll. And you won’t like me when you’re mad.”
“I already don’t,” Bruce gave you one last peck and took you by the hand, leading you to the garage.
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Bruce had to admit, the weather was nice.
The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot to scald either of you. Birds were singing (something he had never heard before in Gotham), and flowers were in bloom. It was the perfect afternoon, and he was extremely glad he’d taken it off to be with you.
Speaking of you, you sat next to him, eating strawberries, and admiring the view in front of you. You loved this park – it was where you’d first met Bruce – and came here often, relishing in the pretty scenery and the calmness of it all. Gotham could be bustling with energy and light and noise, and while you’d come to grow fond of it (after all, it was home), you also appreciated those moments of quiet you managed to steal whenever you could.
“What about Benjamin?” you asked, turning to him. You were as radiant as ever, the light of the sun bathing your face in an ethereal glow. Bruce was sure that if angels existed, this is what they would look like. He caught sight of some strawberry juice dripping down your chin and collected it his finger, taking it to his mouth afterwards to lick it clean.
You wrinkled your nose.
“That’s disgusting.”
“Oh now, is it?” Bruce asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m pretty sure last night, you asked me to – “
“What about Benjamin?” you repeated. Only this time, slightly louder, and with heat spreading across your cheeks.
Bruce chuckled and moved closer to you so he could steal a kiss. You tasted like strawberries and love, and he wanted to freeze this moment forever.
“Benjamin.” He repeated once he pulled away for breath, lips inches away from yours.
“It’s sweet. We could call him Ben.” You said with a soft smile.
“Benjamin when we’re angry.”
“Bruce!”
“You’re going to have my child; do you seriously expect him to be an angel?” He asked with a quirked brow.
“Ah, so now it’s your child.”
“It’ll be yours every time he gets in trouble.”
“With a father like you, I wonder if there’s ever going to be a time where he doesn’t.”
The two of you laughed and Bruce swore his heart was going to burst from all the love he felt. For a long time, he’d led a mostly lonely life, going to parties, and pretending to be a womanizer, a new model or actress on his arm whenever his photo was taken. It was sad, but necessary if he wanted to keep his Batman persona a secret. Only Alfred was allowed in, seeing as Bruce had no living relatives or any close family. He had Rachel, of course, but they didn’t speak as much as they used to, seeing as she was now engaged to Harvey Dent.
And then you came along.
And his lonely, monochrome life was turned upside down and splashed with colour.
Events and galas were now much more enjoyable because he had you by his side to talk to, kiss whenever no one was looking and make fun of all the high society extravagances he did not associate himself with. No longer did he wake up to silky white empty sheets, but a lovely woman who snuggled close and kissed his jaw and made him giggle and laugh and feel loved. So very loved.
“Anyway, I’m not sure I like Benjamin,” he said, tugging a lock of hair behind your ear and taking the opportunity to run his fingers through your radiant face. Up close, he could see the details of your face, the way your lashes framed your pretty eyes, how they sparkled in the sun. You were the loveliest woman he had ever laid eyes upon. “Any other ideas?”
“Theodore? We can call him Theo.”
“Theodore?”
“Nathaniel. Nathan.”
“I am going to divorce you.”
“All it took was bad baby names? Crap, I would’ve done this way sooner if I knew that’s how I got to get rid of you.”
He snorted and stole another kiss, cupping your cheek with his palm. You were man and wife, but most importantly you were friends. You were his best friend, his greatest confidante and partner in crime. There was no awkwardness between the two of you, never had been beside that small nervous feeling on your tummy during the first few dates. After that, you both became inseparable, and all nervousness was out the window. That’s why you could joke around so much – you trusted each other.
But of course, these were all jokes. Bruce worshiped the ground you walked on, and you loved him more than your own life. No matter how many jokes you cracked about situations like this, you were deeply in love with each other. At first, Bruce was a bit unsure about the jokes. He was afraid that deep down, you would mean any of the things you told him. But after a lot of reassuring, he realised it was simply your friendship blossoming even more. You were still friends. Only now, you were married.
After a while of kissing and stealing a taste of the strawberries you’d been eating earlier, he pulled away and smiled.
“Actually…” you started, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Scary stuff.”
You chuckled.
“About a name.”
“Doesn’t make it less scary.”
You pushed him jokingly and he kissed you once more, swiping his tongue over your lower lip and earning a sigh from you.
“I wanted to run it through you first.”
“Alright, hit me with your best shot.”
You took a deep breath and nodded once, before turning to face him again.
“Thomas.”
It took a while for Bruce to react. Thomas. You were thinking about naming your son Thomas. Like his father. He felt a flurry of emotions surge within him. First, he felt melancholy at the reminder that his father wouldn’t be here to watch his grandson grow. Nor would his mother. After that, he felt hurt. His son would grow up without a regular family. And then, all of the pleasant and positive emotions settled into his chest and he found himself smiling. He felt gratitude for you. He was so grateful to have you by his side. And then he felt happiness. Pure, sheer, raw happiness. He was so happy to be your husband. So lucky. So grateful.
“Thomas.” He repeated.
“Thomas. Tom.”
“Tommy.”
“Little Tommy Wayne.”
“Thomas Wayne.”
“Junior.”
“Junior?”
“Yeah, I mean,” you gesticulated, “After your father. Junior. Is that not how it works?”
“I think I would have to be Thomas in order for our son to be Junior.”
“Really? I thought you just added that to whoever. Thomas the second, then.”
“We’re not naming our son Thomas the second.” Bruce scoffed.
“Technically, he’ll be Thomas the second, you know.”
Bruce laughed again, and you smiled. How you loved seeing your husband smile. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Bruce was a beautiful person. Not just a beautiful man. A beautiful person. He was kind and caring, and extremely funny, and even though no one else in Gotham knew, he risked himself nearly every night to keep Gotham City safe. He was perfect. And all you ever wanted was for him to be happy.
The day you told him you were pregnant, you were sure your heart was going to burst with joy at the sight of him. He hugged you tightly, kissed your breath away, opened the windows and screamed out loud that he was going to be a father, wept a little, kneeled in front of you and kissed your stomach – the whole shebang.
And it almost made you weep with joy, because if your beloved husband was happy, what else could you possibly want?
“I love it,” he murmured, and you could spot the vulnerability in his gaze. It made you melt. It made you feel special, because you knew you were one of the only two people who Bruce allowed himself to be vulnerable with. Made you love and treasure everything you’d built together even more. “Thank you. I think it’s beautiful. Thank you so much. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. Have I ever told you this?”
“You have. Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it, though,” you smiled and sat up straighter so you could take his jaw in your hand. He turned his face and softly kissed your palm, which sent butterflies flying in your stomach – or perhaps that’s just your son. “I love you too, Bruce. So much. And I love our little family. Even if we haven’t gotten to meet our little Tommy yet.”
“I love our family too,” Bruce replied, before stealing another kiss. “And I’m sure we’ll be immensely happy. I already am.”
“Me too.” Another one.
The two of you remained like that for a while, talking, smiling, giggling, and stealing strawberry kisses from each other (not that you needed to steal – you could take anything from Bruce, and he wouldn’t mind) and watching as the sun slowly set, bathing Gotham in soft twilight.
And you knew, as the breeze blew, and you sat next to the man you loved, that the world could throw just about anything your way. Unknowingly to you, he was thinking the exact same thing. And as you looked into each other’s eyes and smiled, you knew. You knew that as long as you were together, you would be fine.
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A/N: And that's it! I know the ending is super cheesy, but I just love happy and cheesy endings... They make me all warm and fuzzy inside, and Bruce definitely deserves one!!!
Alright!!! I'll see you guys on my next drabble!!!
I hope you have a wonderful day ahead!!! <3
439 notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 3 months
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hello helloooo! I’m back with another fic idea if it interests you ✨so little Nyx is old enough to go to school maybe like kindergarten-ish age? And one day the IC is eating dinner and Nyx is like “I have a mate!” And obviously he doesn’t but still Rhys and Feyre are like WTF and then read his little bby mind and find out he’s just infatuated with his teacher. (Nyx gave her a cookie that he baked with the help of Elain which she ate and now he thinks they’re mates bc he’s too young to understand that that’s not how it works) and then during a school carnival or gathering or cute kindergarten level graduation the IC attends with Nyx and ofc Azriel is there. He doesn’t even know who Nyx’s teacher is but then he sees Nyx dragging a young female over to him where he introduces her to him, proudly saying “this is my mate!” And she just laughs but then the bond snaps for her and Azriel. And then fluff ensues from there with everyone trying to explain to Nyx that she’s not his mate and that she’s Azriel’s to which he takes forever to understand. He keeps trying to give her treats and flowers so that they’ll somehow be mates. Azriel becomes public enemy #1 in Nyx’s eyes because he stole her from him. And then fast forward to when Nyx is older, maybe finally with a mate of his own and they tell him the story at his wedding and he’s so embarrassed about it. could def see this as an OC fic but x reader works just as well!
Infatuation
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I love writing little baby Nyx 🥺🥺🥺
Warnings - Nyx being a bit of a menace to society *well Az*
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Nyx was beaming. Bouncing as he ate his dinner, little wings flapping every so often.
It wasn't unusual. Being surrounded by this much love, this much joy, this much devotion had made the little heir the happiest of babies, then a happy toddler, and now a happy 5 year old.
He picked up his little cup, sucking on the straw and took a big drink as Rhysand and Feyre shared a look. He set it back down with a satisfied lip smack and went back to his mashed potatoes.
"Alright, I'll bite," Cassian put his knife down. "What happened at school today?"
"I met my mate," Rhysand's face dropped at his son's little confession. "And she's perfect, and nice, and prettier than mommy."
Feyre hid her laugher behind a mask of concern before gently digging into Nyx's head.
There, as Nyx thought about his mate, was Miss Arianna, legs crossed as she read to them on the floor. Her black hair was tied up in two buns with pieces framing her face. She had a big smile on her lips as she read in different voices from the children's book.
Feyre and Rhys, despite their status, sat on a waiting list to have Nyx in her lessons. She was highly sought after, her students were all advanced for their little ages, and she allowed time in their schedules for naps. Something many teachers felt was unnecessary.
Rhys had loved you the moment he made the choice to ignore his morals and enter your mind during their interview.
You didn't care who they were.
You didn't care about their status.
You cared about the faelings.
You took children from every walk of life in Velaris. The poor, the rich, high fae, low fae. It didn't matter to you.
Rhys and Feyre both shared a look and chuckled. "And who is your mate, Nyx?"
He sighed with a dreamy look in his eyes, mind now flashing to you comforting him after he got hurt at recess, "Miss Arianna. I gave her a cookie, and we shared it, so I'm a taken male now."
Nesta had her hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling. "Well," Cassian started before a slap came to his thigh, warning him to let Rhys and Feyre take care of this gently. "You did better than Auntie Ness. She offered me a stale biscuit."
"Your mom made me a can of soup. Worse can of soup I've ever had. Lucien, what did Elain give you?"
Lucien smirked and leaned back, hand on Elain's pregnant stomach. "A five course meal with dessert."
They were all hoping Nyx would understand the implications of what they were saying, but the far-off look and content sigh told them he didn't.
A few weeks later, the inner circle and all of their partners and mates were at the school's end of the year celebration.
The grass had been packed with games, little events for the children, vendors charging nothing for sweets and foods at the kindness and generosity of the High Lord and Lady.
Nyx had long abandoned his family. Opting to run and play with his friends. Cassian and Nesta stood with their daughter, looking over the schools information sheets and the application to join Miss Arianna's class for next year.
"Mommy!" Feyre turned at the voice, beginning to laugh as Nyx dragged his teacher behind him. "Mommy! You were supposed to be behind me!" The heir tapped his foot, Miss Arianna looking away as she hid her smile at his little antics. "I had to bring her all the way over here!"
Arianna and Feyre held eye contact both of their eyes sparkling and knowing where this was going. "Mommy, this is my wife and mate, Miss Arianna," he pulled her to Mor and Emerie first. "This is my Auntie Mor and her wife Emerie." He didn't wait before ripping her to Amren and Varian. "Aunite Amren and Varian. You'll like Auntie Amren. She's real smart." She was pulled to Rhys next. The two adults shook their heads, smiling. "This is daddy. You can call him.... uh. Daddy?" He pulled her to Cassian and Nesta. "Auntie Ness and Uncle Cass," he looked around brow knit in confusion. "Where's Uncle Az and Clarissa?"
Rhys patted his head. "Ris wanted cotton candy, so Az took her to get cotton candy. Why don't you go play too? Then we can talk to your wife."
They watched as Nyx ran off. Clearly not looking to play but trying to find his missing uncle. "I tried telling him, but he's so attached to the idea of us spending the rest of our lives together that he doesn't fully understand."
They all laughed. "We tried too. He told us that we didn't understand."
"Strange. He said to me that the bond didn't snap right away for you either, High Lady, so he'd find the Suriel to tell me, and I'd feel it after that."
A soft pout came to Feyre's lips. "He doesn't understand why you won't be their teacher next year."
Arianna's face fell, the fine features morphing into sadness and longing. "I introduced them to Alexios and even had him sit and answer questions during round up day. I can talk to him. I'm so sorry. I wish I could keep them until higher level learning. We just-"
Feyre hugged her, stopping the unneeded apology. "We know. Cassian and Nesta were hoping to get Clarissa in your class."
"And we were hoping to hire you for private tutoring," Rhys, like his son, was not ready to let Her go. He had spent countless nights looking for ways to keep Nyx in her classes. "We would pay you well."
"That wouldn't be necessary," she turned to Cassian and Nesta, a big smile on her face. "Would you like to see my room? I'll have a different theme next year, but it will give you an idea of my environment."
"Lead the way," Cassian held Nesta close. Watching the two females interact, inserting questions as they walked into her classroom.
The Inner Circle all went to find food and place to eat, enjoying the small screams of joy and laughter around them. "She's really pretty," Emerie started slowly. "Maybe we should hook her up with Azriel. He hasn't dated since Gwyn."
Varian visibly flinched at the mentioned of Gwyn. "Does he still hate Tarquin?"
"Yes," they all answered together.
Azriel joined them seconds later. He was carrying Risa and holding Nyx's hand. "She crashed. Where's Cass? I'm going to take her home?"
Rhys motioned towards the schoolhouse, pulling Nyx to him and telling him to sit and eat. "Arianna offered them a tour of the classroom. A quiet place out of the sun might perk our niece back up, too."
Azriel nodded, carrying the small illyrian into the school house and following his shadows. He could hear melodic laughter and Cassian's loud voice, pausing at the doorway as his niece stirred and snuggled back into him, whispering for daddy. "He's right here, princess."
Nesta motioned for Azriel to join her. His jaw dropped at the sight of the classroom. It was a domed open glass ceiling, but the second it he entered, it began filtering light. "It knows she's sleeping," that voice had his shadows dancing. "I enchanted my room for my students so they're always in a comfortable environment. Never too bright, hot, or cold."
The room was filled with toys and exotic stuffed animals for snuggling. It was decorated like a rain forest from the continent, and an occasional call of something wild could be heard. "I suppose you enchanted all of this too?"
Azriel didn't look her direction, a look of shock and amazement going Nesta's way. Lady Death nodded eagerly, her eyes almost watering. She'd be heartbroken if Clarissa wasn't here next year, Azriel realized.
"Is this the little potential enrollee?" She walked over to Azriel, and nothing else was heard in the room. They didn't hear Cassian or Nesta respond, they no longer heard the soft sounds of animals and birds calling in the distance.
It was like everything in Azriel's life fell onto a new axis.
Arianna was his mate. The female he'd spent forever looking for.
And his nephew was obsessed with her.
Arianna spoke first, "We can't tell Nyx."
Azriel nodded. "I'll get banished to Mother knows where if we do."
Cassian looked between them before smiling, "Did you just secure my daughter's spot in her class? What kind of Aunt wouldn't teach her niece?"
Nesta smacked him hard, smiling from ear to ear. "Have dinner with us tonight? We share one of Rhys' and Feyre's houses with Azriel. He could fly you up for dinner, and we could all get to know each other."
"Only if you want that," Azriel nodded the second the sentence left her lips. "As, am I allowed to be blunt now?" They all nodded. "I was going to take her regardless," she turned to Nesta. "Morrigan scares me. It's why I took Nyx, too."
Arianna held Azriel's hand tight as they walked to the Riverhouse.
They had spent the summer getting to know each other. Going to coffee, to dinner, on long walks along the Sindra. It had taken all of a month for the two of them to decide this was serious, and they both wanted to move forward with the bond.
But that meant telling Nyx, who was still very much infatuated with her.
Azriel sighed as he grabbed the handle, "Ready?"
She nodded, hand stick folded delicately on his bicep. "Only if you are."
Azriel pushed the door to the lavish home open, smiling at Rhys and Feyre, who were waiting for them. They, Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel, had all decided the best way to do this was over a full family dinner.
"Uncle Az!" The shadoesinger stiffened. He had thought they would at least get to the table before the little heir appeared, but the Mother must have had other plans.
He came bounding into the room before stopping at the doorway with a loud gasp.
Azriel had never felt more like chopped liver as Nyx ran to his mate, hugging her legs. "Uncle Az brought my wife to dinner, Daddy!"
Rhysand scratched the stubble he had allowed to grow out due to his days being spent caring for Nyx as Feyre sat the throne. "We should all go sit on the couch, buddy. We need to talk about something."
Arianna allowed Nyx to pull her with him, looking back at Azriel with tears in her eyes.
He had discovered during their time together she had a Cauldron gift, one that had never been trained and just thought of as a personality trait. Arianna was an empath. She felt the emotions of others so deeply and could manipulate them if she tried.
It explained why she was so attached to children and them to her.
It also made her very useful in stressful situations. "Just breathe," Azriel mouthed as they all followed.
"Oh shit," Nesta whispered quietly. "We're doing this now?"
Rhys nodded. His eyes were already lining with silver as he sat across from Nyx with Azriel on one side and Feyre on the other.
The room was very quiet until Azriel spoke. "Nyx, Miss Arianna and I really need to tell you something, and we need you to try to stay calm." The shadowsinger sent a silent prayer to whatever Gods would listen and watched as one of his shadows held Arianna's free hand.
"Miss Arianna is my mate. I asked her to marry me."
The heir's face morphed into a little look of betrayal, his eyes starting to water as Rhysand and him held eye contact. "She's my mate, though."
Nyx looked at Feyre, hoping for support before looking back to a defeated Rhys. "I'm sorry, buddy, but She's Uncle Azriel's mate. Do you remember me telling you about the thread that connects me to Mommy?"
The heir cuddled closer into Arianna, glaring hard towards Azriel. "Why are you so mean?"
Feyre gasped at the question, immediately grabbing Azriel's hand. "Nyx!"
"He's trying to steal my wife!"
Arianna was in tears. The heirs emotions were overwhelming. She took over the conversation, blocking everyone from Nyx by taking both hands and sitting on the coffee table. "Nyx, honey, I'm so sorry, but Az and I are mates," they all felt the small tinge of magic shift. "I know this is hard for you. Your feelings are so valid, and it's difficult when you feel something this deeply to let go of that notion. It's hard processing such big emotions."
She wiped one of his tears. "Your mate is out there, hun. And she's wonderful, kind, smart, and closer in age than I am to you. You two will have so much more in common, and you will find joy and happiness in her that you never will in me."
"But she won't be you," Nyx sobbed heavily. "We're supposed to spend forever together."
She smiled softly. "And we will. You will always have me in your life. We will always be friends."
He glared towards Azriel, and Arianna turned his little head towards her. "You are hurting his feelings. Uncle Az loves you. We've spent a lot of time talking about how to handle this because he knew it would upset you, and it hurts his heart to see you so sad. You don't want to hurt Az. I can see if in your little face."
Nyx still glared at Az. "What if you two break up?"
"You'll be the first to know, bud," Azriel said softly.
"Good."
"Good," Azriel repeated.
"Fine."
"Fine," the heir smiled as his Uncle teased him.
It was then that Nyx decided to dive on Azriel, the Illyrian coming out of them as he started a tickle fight. "She was mine first!"
Azriel was laughing, holding the smiling boy close to him and allowing him to win. "And now she can be our. We can make her go places with us, bug her while we fight with our training swords, do pranks."
The heir stopped, that dimpled smile coming back out. "Prankies?"
Arianna's face fell as everyone started laughing. "Wait. What?"
Azriel smiled at her, sending her his love as Nyx whispered in his ear.
"We good?" She mouthed to him. He nodded, holding Nyx close. She stood to go comfort Rhys and Feyre, only for a shadow to trip her. "AZRIEL!"
The heir and shadowsinger ran off laughing as the other couples watched Arianna with shared grins, "Don't worry, sweetness," Cassian helped her up. "They're just getting started."
.General tag list:@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager
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karajaynetoday · 3 months
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hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes
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it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.
thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖
READ PART TWO HERE
READ PART THREE HERE
word count: 2.8k
Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here
You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 
And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 
You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 
You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 
You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.
The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 
“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 
“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 
“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.
“Encouraging what, exactly?”
“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 
“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.
“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 
Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 
“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 
“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 
“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”
“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 
You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 
You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 
The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.
You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 
You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 
Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 
I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST
Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x
Xo
It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 
The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 
“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 
You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 
The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 
Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.
The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 
Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 
The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 
Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 
“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 
“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 
“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.
“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 
You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 
“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 
“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.
“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 
“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”
“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?
“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 
“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 
Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 
“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.
“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 
“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 
“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 
Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 
“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 
You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.
 
“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.
You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.
This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 
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