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#if it’s not clear the orange ones are his memories
sea-jello · 1 year
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!!tw vague description of a body burning!!
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what if morro could feel his body burning a second time?
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Last night I had a dream that I only vaguely remember where someone tried to switch hualian and beefleaf but kept failing because too much of Hua Cheng’s character was him being whipped and they didn’t know how to deal with that. I was entirely useless but did find their approach to making Xie Lian gender-fluid interesting (i don’t remember what they did when doing that).
I was basically just sitting there with a sprite I got from a movie theater that was closing (dream right before this one) and being entirely useless as help (but I was entertained)
#emma posts#there were some other things going on at the same time as well#I think someone was trying not to get murdered and we spent half the time on a highway with no car for some reason#my dreams don’t really have a clear plot#a lot happens at the same time#it’s like it has three sun plots at once but one of the sun plots has someone almost dying#I was disappointed when the first place i tried to get a drink had orange soda instead of sprite come out of the dispenser#for some reason I found the gender-fluid thing relatable even though I’m not gender fluid#I don’t even remember how#but in the waking world I only have two sets of pronouns and they are interchangeable all the time#there was also swimming involved at some point but I’m pretty sure that was just because i like swimming#my life was being threatened while i was swimming to escape but I could have probably taken a different route#for some reason the change in depth perception when my glasses were off vs when I was wearing them was even more extreme? like a telescope#I’d say that with my fuzzy waking memory I lost the plot but I’m pretty sure there was more than one to begin with#feel like drawing a picture that is like me: in a beanbag with a sprite watching someone#them: hands in their hair ranting beside their desk#I am half zoned out#but I don’t think i will draw it#them: so much of his character is based around Xie lain#me nodding and going ‘hmm’ while I drink out of a straw in a beanbag chair
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krkiiz · 4 months
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mastermind . luke castellan x reader
maybe the things that led luke to you were never accidental at all
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luke castellan x f!reader . reader is the daughter of demeter . tooth rotting fluff , established relationship , nicknames
note : this is inspired by mother tay tay’s song “mastermind” (one of my fav songs in midnights frr) not edited! sorry for some mistakes. Hope you enjoy <3
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The camp was never silent. Songs of birds echoed all across the painted skies, gallops of pegasus clapping through the fields, chatters of the half-bloods, sounds of clashing swords, shots of arrows. The camp was never silent.
Yet the two of you sat on the edge of a cliff, the camp’s background noises fully muted, too engrossed with each other’s presence as your hands interlaced as one.
From the top, you could see the overview of the camp. As the sun sets on the west, you get the best view of the skies painted in an orange hue, with hints of blue as the moon begins to rise.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” Eyes still on the canvas of clouds, you asked your boyfriend beside you.
“Of course I do, flower.” A small chuckle blew from his lips. “How could I ever forget.” The boy smiled, recalling his encounter with you a few months back.
You tore your gaze from the orange hues to the boy by your side, raising an eyebrow of amusement.
“No, literally. I tripped and got stuck on a vine, and you helped me. It was so embarrassing, I swear, sunshine.” You tilt your head back, erupting in laughter as your boyfriend covered his face that was now as red as strawberries that grew in the camp’s garden.
“That was hell of a first impression, though.” You pointed out. “What were you even doing in the woods alone, by the way?” You asked the boy, curiosity grew in your heart akin to sprouting apples on a tree.
“I don’t know, I guess I felt drawn.” He shrugged sheepishly.
“Drawn? To the forest?”
“To you, flower.” He winked and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Ew Luke, get away or I’ll push you off this cliff right now.”
Luke glowed as he dove into the epiphany of laughters and you joined soon after. “I’m just kidding.” He pinched your cheek softly triggering a frown from you.
“Do you remember the next time that we met?” You tore your gaze from your boyfriend, eyes now settling on the deep blue that was slowly taking over the horizon as the orange tinge melts in the west. The setting sun was truly a sight to behold. But to Luke, no creations of the gods or even titans could ever compare to the beauty of the demigod by his side
Not hearing an answer, you turned your head towards the curly haired boy, the view of his pupils dilating as your e/c hues melted into his own clear as daylight. “Love? Is everything alright?”
Luke now understood how Hades had fall for Persephone as he had found himself entranced by the beauty of another one of Demeter’s daughter before him. The light breeze flushed against your cheeks, how you would always look beautiful even when your hair becomes a mess after training. How your skin glowed in sunlight rivaling Apollo’s children themselves. To Luke, you are his epitome of beauty. Like a single rose that stood amidst thorn bushes. But he has to be careful. One prick is all it takes to let his heart bleed out in his hands.
“Hm? Oh yeah everything’s fine. Don’t worry, darling.” He shifted closer, his fingers grazing yours. “Anyways as you were asking, yes I remember our second meeting. And our meetings after that and after that.” He smiled, recalling the memories.
“We keep meeting up by accident after that first meeting.” He chuckled softly.
You hummed. “Don’t you think it’s weird though? How we keep meeting accidentally after that?” You tilt your head slightly.
“Maybe fate brought us together. Who knows?”
“Yes…” You trailed off. “Or maybe it’s something else.” You started playing with his fingers that was laced with yours, but your eyes remained on him as you observed the slightest shift in his visage.
“What are you saying, flower?”
“What if I told you that…none of it was ever accidental at all?”
Silence engulfed you in the shape of a cold, harsh breeze. The sun was long gone by now. From here, you could see the luminescent glow of Artemis’ vacant cabin, as well as the campfire that brew from the other campers.
Your heart ached at the gap between you as Luke as he slowly untangle your fingers. From outside, you look the same as ever, waiting patiently for his response. Inside however, your head was screaming in every corner, anxious thoughts clouding your thought bubbles as you think of every worst possible scenarios that might happen.
Great job! He probably think you’re a stalker now and wants to break up with you.
Break up? You didn’t want to break up with him! Of course not, you love him and he loves you! … Right?
The storm that was raining all over your thoughts were soon crushed by the slight upturn that formed on one of the corners of your boyfriend’s lip.
He noticed your slightly stiff stance, he took your departed hands once more, knowing it will ease your nerves. “I know, Yn.”
You always loved how your name rolled off his tongue. So effortlessly as it calls your given name with such love, such adoration. Yet it was his answer that got you off guard.
“Really?? You knew, after all this time?”
“You really think you can trick the son of the god of tricks?” He pointed out, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
“This is so embarrassing.” You bury your blood-rushed cheeks into your palms and Luke smiled at the sight, admiring the red hue that settled on your ears and face.
“Hey don’t be! Truth be told, I only found out from the nymphs.” Your eyes lit up at his confession. Maybe your plan wasn’t that horrible after all. “Well I mean that only confirmed it. I had my suspicions about your little master plan after our third time of meeting accidentally.”
Your groan in your hands. “What did the nymphs tell you?”
“That you had a crush on me.” He paused looking at your tomato face. “And that you were too shy to make the first move.” He peeled your fingers from your cheeks, revealing the scarlet hues on your facial epidermis.
“It was impressive though, you little mastermind. It worked didn’t it?” He placed his palms on your cheeks, caressing it like a fragile vase.
You brought him closer, leaning your forehead against his as you brushes your lips on the tip of his nose. “Yeah. I guess it did.”
The demigod frowned as he missed the presence of your lips on his skin. He leant more forward, your noses grazed each other and he finally sealed the distance of your lips with a soft kiss.
The moon shone with a glow more ethereal than usual, the stars map out the skies like seas of glitter. You both dove head first into the epiphany of love. Lips press against another as nature becomes the witness of two demigods’ form of adoration.
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©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023
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earthtooz · 8 months
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x : THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN :*+゚
in which: you are the best thing to ever to childe, but what will happen when you find out the truth about his profession?
warnings: 4k wc, fluff to angst, ambiguous ending huehue, childe is a whipped loser in love, set in canon, reader has undescribed trauma with fatui (ooo), reader is not referred to with pronouns or a gender but there is a mention of 'queen' (it's up to you how you see it), mentions of violence, childe being referred to as 'ajax', argument, both reader and childe cry, aether and paimon appearance!
a/n: this one might hurt. apologies. (girl u know i want ur love...)
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The sun is radiant gold when Childe walks down his peaceful, routine path, away from the bustling commerce centre and towards a peculiar place that he’s called home in Liyue. There are still a million tasks yet to be completed, but for now, his feet take him to the solitude that waits for him at the end of day. 
When Childe arrives at the manor that is his residence in this foreign city, there’s a lifeless kind of calm, the rustling of leaves and flowing stream are the only things to welcome him, but he knows better. Doesn’t need to confirm it when his feet naturally take him upstairs, winding through corridors and towards the balcony that overlooks the horizon. 
The view is very picturesque, overlooking the grandiose Liyue mountains that are decorated with incomparable flora and fauna, but you are there, and he can’t bring himself to look anywhere else. 
You are the best reprieve for his tiring days, and although he will be returning to the Northland Bank to try and solve some of his troubles, the majority of them can be quelled by your presence alone. 
“My darling,” the words slip past his lips without any trouble, and the relief he feels when you turn around and smile at him is insurmountable. Suddenly his hardships dissipate, his lungs are cleared, and his limbs don’t feel as heavy anymore (he can’t think of many people who grin up at him like you do. He hopes you never stop smiling at him like that).
Still, he walks to stand in front of you, and collapses to the floor, resting on his knees by your feet like a faithful jester to his queen. His armour drops and Childe becomes nothing but a man in love before you because there is nothing more human than loving someone more than yourself. 
“Why so exhausted, Ajax?” You ask. 
“The days are bothersome, my love,” he murmurs quietly, slightly muffled, but he then turns his head to look up at you, arms now hugging your calves. “But coming home to you make them infinitely better.” 
“Any good home will bring you comfort,” you deflect, but your words reminds him of a distant, golden memory back in Snezhnaya. The unforgiving, snowy plains had always been his home, the frost that clung to dead tree branches, and the footsteps that he and his siblings left behind in the blankets would were memories of easier times, but here, sitting by you with a chin on your knees, is a memoir of his favourite home. 
The sensation of your hand running through his orange locks take him out of his daydreams, and he melts right into your touch, blood-stained hands completely and wholly attached to you. He commits you to memory, savours the feeling of your warmth against his so he can feel it even whilst he’s away from you. 
Can a home be a person?
He dares to close his eyes. Here, he is safe. Here, he can rest peacefully.
“How was your day?” Asks Childe, stimulating pointless conversation so that he could talk to you and hear your voice that will power him through the tedious night to come.
You begin to talk about the things you had to do today, about the customers you had to deal with, about the errands you still need to run, and all the pressing orders you needed to attend to- hearing it all places an aching weight on his chest. If Childe could have things his way, you wouldn’t need to work at all. You would live life peacefully by his side, without a day of stress as you roam around Liyue Harbour or anywhere else you would want to go, with him holding your arm (would you return to Snezhnaya with him?). 
Alas, life is not so easy nor carefree, but you make it significantly better.
“How pretty is the sunset,” you comment. “Look.” 
He almost doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to put any space between the two of you because looking at the sunset means turning around to face the rays that warm his back, but it’s you who asked him, so Childe turns around and observes the gorgeous blend of colours. He then decides that it’s nothing compared to your beauty.
“Yes, yes, splendid,” the orange-haired agrees, promptly turning back around to look up at you, with a sickening amount of love evident in his eyes. 
“You didn’t even look properly.”
“I’m looking at something much more important right now.”
You shy away at your lover’s blatancy, pushing his face to the side to break his gaze. “Such unabashed flattery, do you have no shame?”
“None! None at all!”
You sigh, a smile creeping at the corners of your lips, timidity teasing Childe as he aches to see more. Reaching for your hands, he intertwines his around them, feeling light as he basks in the softness of your touch that starkly contrast the roughness of his hardened palms. 
His gentle action causes your bracelets to jingle, pure gold and the finest gems of Liyue tinkering quietly against each other. They are gifts from him, he knows because he only buys the best for you. 
“Will you be staying tonight?” You ask. 
His gaze sadly falls to the ground as a regretful, ‘no, I won’t be’ slips past his lips. Tonight, instead of being in your company and resting beside you under the gentle beams of the moonlight, his dedicated Fatui subordinates will be with him instead. The blood on his hands will accumulate and pool by his feet as outstanding debts and scores will be settled, signed with fear and horror as the silence of Liyue sees an unspeakable monster. 
Then, the monster will come crawling to you, fatigued and dirtied with an unrestrained desire to be by your side for as long as time will allow. 
“That’s a shame,” you mutter and Childe winces at the disappointment in your tone. “You work too hard, you know?” 
“It’s just what I need to do,” murmurs the orange-haired, “wish I could spend more time with you, though.”
“It’s alright, as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.” 
He rests his cheek on your knee once more, eyes drooping close. Frighteningly quick, the fatigue he feels from all of his laborious duties catch up to him, latching onto him like a parasite. A nap wouldn’t hurt, 
Nothing can take you away from him, not without a fight. He will bear his teeth, slash his swords until the blades dull, until his bow snaps in half, and until all that’s left of him is a pulp that lies helplessly on the floor, the love pouring from his wounds. Childe only hopes that his last moments are spent in your embrace.
But what will become of this warrior when you’re his opponent? What if you are the one he fights against- what then?
When you wake up one, unassuming morning, you wake up alone. No Ajax to accompany you, the only indication that he was here being the breakfast he had prepared for you that sat atop the counter top. The warmth of the meal lingers, meaning that he must not have left that long ago, and you have to wonder how he knows you so well to guarantee that breakfast is still warm by the time you come down. 
Retrieving a book from the main entrance’s bookshelf, you catch a glimpse of a large box sitting on the entrance table. There is a note beside it, addressed to ‘Traveller’ and signed with ‘Childe’- the name Ajax has supposedly taken up whilst here in Liyue; a merchant name of sorts, he claims. 
You mentally note to listen extra carefully for any knocks at the door, but for now, the promise of a day of relaxation and no work relieves you. Being swamped up in all of your duties meant that you kept forgetting to tell Ajax that you were free for the day, but perhaps you’ll surprise him with a filling and hearty dinner. Work didn’t seem to be all that easy for him either, so you’re sure he’d appreciate the gesture. 
What you weren’t prepared for, however, was discovering a secret that your lover had been hiding from you all this time- in the form of two travellers. 
The anticipated knock on the door came near noon, and two voices from the other side are muffled by the heavy material of the entrance. “Childe said no one would be home, why would you knock?” A high-pitched voice berates.
“Because manners, Paimon!” A male voice retaliates, “even if no one was home, it’s nice to make sure. We shouldn’t barge in without warning.”
“Can you unlock the door yet? Paimon’s dying to know what inside looks like! This property looks so expensive, can you even how much Mora this place is worth! I bet the inside is even-”
The conversation is cut short when you open the door with a soft click, pulling it open slightly. What you’re greeted by, however, is a blond boy with a floating companion, who both wear similar expressions of shock.
“Uh, hello!” You greet with a small smile, feeling slightly awkward.
“Hello, is this Childe’s residence?” The floating one- who you assume is Paimon, asks. 
“You’re at the right place.”
“But he told us no one would be home today!”
“He would be right normally, but I have the day off work. Are you two travellers?”
“Yeah, we are! And who are you?” 
“My name’s Y/n, I’m Childe’s significant other.”
“Childe has a lover?” Paimon’s eyes widen even more if that was even possible. To be honest, this whole scenario was incredibly entertaining. “Since when!”
“We’ve been together for a while. Has he never mentioned me?”
“No! I didn’t even think he could have one with his line of work-”
“-Uhm, we’re kind of in a hurry, I apologise for cutting the conversation,” the blond boy apologises, giving his companion a look before glancing back at you, friendly smile and shining eyes to match his innocent demeanour. “We’re here to pick up something.”
“Ah yes, I did see it. It is rather big, though, could I trouble the two of you to help me bring it out?” You ask, feeling rather embarrassed to bother your guests, but you don’t feel confident to carry the package alone. 
“No trouble at all,” he reassures.
“We can come in, right?” Paimon asks, voice lilting up an octave as mirth shines in her eyes.
“Yes, yes, no need to take off your shoes.” You open the door wider for the two, the floating one flying in first, immediately marvelling at the interior, admiration tangible whilst the blond is a little more reserved, thanking you first before coming in.
What an intriguing pair.
“My name is Aether, and that’s Paimon. I just realised we hadn’t introduced ourselves.” 
“It’s lovely to meet the two of you. Do you do business with Childe often?” Your tongue almost strains at the mention of his business name, but if your boyfriend had appearances to keep, then you needed to try to uphold it too.
Paimon flies over to Aether, joining the conversation. “You could say that. Sometimes he causes more trouble than it’s worth!” 
“That sounds like him,” you huff, an affectionate smile appearing on your face. “The package is right here, but like I said, it seems quite heavy.”
“Allow me,” Aether volunteers, stepping forward to carry the box by himself. He stumbles a little due to the weight, and you hold your hands out just in case.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
The blond merely huffs before shifting the box to one arm. “No need, we’re troubling you enough already.”
“I see. I apologise, if I had known what time you were coming I would have brewed some tea for you two, Liyue has a very fine selection,” you say, fiddling with your thumbs. 
“Aww! Paimon would have loved to try some!”
“Thank you for the offer, I would have liked to try some too, but we are short for time,” Aether explains.
“Then just wait here, I’ll fetch a bag for you to keep on your travels.”
You leave the entrance room before either of them have the chance to reject your offer, and you’re back almost immediately. A new batch you ordered just came in yesterday, so it did not take long for you to try and figure out which one you would like to gift Childe’s… ‘client’. 
“Here,” you hand it to Paimon, who hugs the bag closely to her body. “Travellers need to be at their top shape, right? Hopefully this is something that will rejuvenate you on your journey.”
“This is too kind,” Aether begins, “thank you. We’ll make sure to great care of it.”
“It’s fine! Anyone that is associated with Childe are welcomed here, so long as they’re a nice person that is,” you laugh.
“You can bet we’re the nicest of the bunch!” Paimon exclaims. “I doubt he meets many nice people being a Fatui Harbinger and all!”
A… what? 
Sensing the sudden shift in your mood, Aether’s eyes widen and he tugs at the leg of his companion. “Uh, it was nice meeting you Y/n! Paimon and I will be off now, thank you for the package and tea!” The last statement is nothing but a blend of words toppled over each other as the two practically hurry out of the estate, door slamming behind them in their rush. 
Their abrupt leave didn’t impact you much though, because what did Paimon mean when she said ‘Fatui Harbinger’? Was… Ajax hiding something from you? Or is he Childe? What is the use for a merchant name, anyways? Businessmen don’t usually have identities to keep, but how dire could it be in his industry? After all, second names are only used when wanting to protect yourself from harm, to keep people from knowing who they truly were… a code name for… an organisation like the Fatui to identify them by.
You feel sick, and your hand weakly snakes up to cover your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the table for some sense of stability in your crumbling world. 
Memories come flooding back like a tidal wave, drowning you in the heaviness of the thoughts that clasp around your ankle like anchors. It’s hard to push them away, to ease your mind from the nauseating images that still haunt you to this day: the desperation of your family, the cries, the helpless feeling of being a mere pawn in the game of the Fatui. 
(It hurts to think that you never escaped. After finally surviving through years of hardship, you’ve returned right into the hands of those who caused it, and the thought reminds you of how defeatable you always will be. 
Ajax- Childe, has likely caused devastation similar to the one that wrecked your village years ago. He has blood on his hands, the same ones that have held you tightly against him and stroked your hair. You have kissed his lips- ones that command horrendous acts for others to see through. You love his heart, the same one that probably froze over in Snezhnaya years ago.
You are with someone who has inflicted pain and suffering onto others, and will continue to do so for years to come. But worst of all, you are with a liar, who now makes you question what is and isn’t true.)
Childe returns home at sunset, the rattling of his keys against wood causing fear to crawl down your spine. 
“I’m home!” His cheery voice calls from the front door, and to his surprise, you are sitting on one of the more uncomfortable couches that is merely for decor rather than functionality. “My love, why are you sitting there? There are far more comfortable seats for you-”
“Welcome home, Childe.” 
He pauses in his steps and feels the world stop momentarily. “Darling? What’s with the name?” The Harbinger tries to laugh, but really, you’re scaring him. Very much so. “Come on, you know you don’t need to call me that. Here, I brought back some food that I thought you would enjoy from-” 
“When were you going to tell me?” You’re standing now, slowly stepping towards him as your clothes flow with your every movement. Childe has no time to admire though, not when you and this swirling premonition in his gut is frightening him. 
“Tell you what?” The pit in his stomach already knows.
“Must you act a fool?”
“To what?” He continues because it’s his first instinct to lie. “Darling, please tell me what is troubling you.”
“Please don’t play dumb, I just need the truth, especially now out of all times, are you really a…” you plead, voice trailing off as you hold yourself back from shattering. “You’re not who I think you are, are you?”
“Why do you sound so sad? What happened?” He whispers, beginning to feel the back of his eyes burn as tears invade his eyes.
“A-are you really with the Fatui? A Harbinger, too?” The words fall from your mouth like anvils and suddenly the title that brought him pride and honour through the years dulls. His eyes widen, and the gulp of his throat is all you need to know. 
“I love you,” large, blistered hands desperately reach for you, aching to hold you still because he’s terrified. What if you slip through his fingers and run? What if you go somewhere he can’t follow? “I love you-”
“Just give me the truth, Ajax. I practically know, I just need to hear it from you,” you choke. The call of his name causes him to cave, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping past his lips, crushing you with the weight of the truth. You cry first and like dominoes, his tears follow.
“Don’t cry,” he hiccups through his own sobs, hands locking around your wrists like bracelets. “I hate it when you cry.”
“Childe-”
“It’s Ajax to you,” the Harbinger pleads, grip tightening in desperation.
“I don’t know what you are to me anymore!” You retaliate, “this whole time, you’ve been lying to me when you know about what happened. I’ve told you everything, and you still decide to keep this from me!” You stumble away from him with more force than necessary, bumping into a table nearby and causing the vase that adorns it to drop. A shrill crack echoes through the room, and instantaneously, he rushes to your aid, asking if you’re hurt as pieces of fina china lay on the floor, water pooling around his feet. 
Mixed in the puddle, are the anxieties and worries that come fumbling out of his mouth. He then pretends like it doesn’t break his heart when you scramble away from him. 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, voice strained and quiet. 
“If I had told you, would you have stayed, or would you have ran away?”
Your silence chokes him, filling up his airways with lead as he nervously awaits your answer. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have stayed.”
Childe’s expression glistens with sadness, so crystal clear that it makes his eyes gleam like diamonds deep from the Chasm. “I see.”
“-But I would have appreciated it hearing from you than someone else.”
“Then how did you found out?” He demands, forcing his tone to be soft. 
“If I tell you you’ll go and hurt them,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to happen.” 
With one look at you, it’s clear that you think Childe will hurt you too with the way you cower from him, as if he could ever lay a finger on you or even point a blade in your direction, but the vision hanging on his hip feels heavier than ever. It’s a haunting reminder of who he is, and what he is capable of. 
You feel miles away, how on Teyvat is he going to pull you back?
“Who are you really?”
“I’m yours-”
“-I’m not in the mood for your flirtatious quips,” you snap, hugging yourself. 
“But it’s true, I love you, Y/n, don’t you know?”
“No, no I don’t. I don’t know what else you’re lying about.”
“Oh come on,” he exasperatedly exclaims, “we’ve been together for so long, the day we met you met the real me, as Ajax, not Childe of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. What’s the big deal? Just because I follow the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I’m not the same Ajax you know, Y/n, please.”
“It’s not only that you’re apart of the Fatui, Ajax- the world is grey, there are things I will never understand. I’m upset because you lied. Like you said, we’ve been together for so long, yet I’m only finding out about this now, so what else don’t I know?” Your voice breaks.
He takes a step forward, but you only take one back, maintaining the distance even though the Snezhnaya native wants nothing more than to just hold you, to secure his place by your side because what can he do without you? 
“What else are you keeping from me? What can I trust about you anymore? You say your real name is Ajax, but how can I know that?” 
Seeing you so upset, so glum, so devoid of the light that makes you you causes his heart to cease, his throat to dry, and sheer terror to flood through him. 
Childe’s seen the face of death, multiple times before, yet he’s never been this scared in his whole life. He’s losing you, he can feel it, but what can he do about it? What can he say that could possibly bring you back? (What good is a jester without the throne he was sworn to entertain? You can’t desert him, he will perform a thousand tricks if it enamours you into staying, will sacrifice more of himself to you if it means you will remain here, safe and sound in his arms.)
You are the reason he returns home everyday, to make sure that you are healthy, happy, and most importantly, that you haven’t left him without a word. If he had to, he would have killed for you, fought anyone and everyone until all that remained of him was the warrior heart that beat for you. But he could have never preempted this, nothing could have ever prepared for him to be the reason that you were leaving.
“I need some space,” you murmur, “to think this all through. Give me some time.”
“What? No,” murmurs the orange-haired. “No, no, no, we can talk about this, right?” 
“Talking won’t do anything, I need time alone.”
The idea of being away from you causes Childe to almost sink to his knees and succumb to the bones in his body that ache to beg at your feet to stay. The cry of your name is weak, but so very desperate as he looks at you through a blurry vision.  
You’re walking towards the front door, each step you take is another one away from him, away from the paradise that he’s been gifted. There are many ways he can stop you right now, his options are far from limited and although they are physical, they are all very effective, but he surrenders instead. Drops his weapons as he lets you go.
“How long?” Is all that Childe asks.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, hand reaching for the door knob. 
“No more than two weeks, please.” Childe doesn’t know if he can handle being away from you for even a day, let alone fourteen. 
“I’ll try.” 
“I’ll search all of Teyvat if that’s what it takes to bring you home,” he affirms, clearing through sobs just to get the words out. He doesn’t back down without a fight, that’s just who he is, so his next words are etched with certainty and clarity, hoping to pierce your defences with arrows of undying devotion. “That’s a promise.”
“I know.” 
You shut the door behind you.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
apologies if there is incorrect lore + if anyone is mischaracterised LOL i have only been playing genshin for like a month.
@fallenssun for u :>
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nouearth · 7 months
Text
poolside banters.
dick grayson x male reader.
summary: it's your final day at the summer resort, and dick has a way to end it with a bang.
wc: 3.4k. warnings: resort!au, explicit smut, blowjob (r giving), handjob, frotting, thigh-fucking, public exhibition, humping, body worshipping, muscle worshipping, established relationship, playful bantering, daddy!kink, big dick!dick resort owner!dick, thwaites!dick.
a/n: finally done with my dick grayson smut! it's been so long, and this has been in my drafts for a while. i've been so busy, but i finally came around to it! ahhhh, i hope you guys like it! it's something new since i've been inspired by a certain video (ahem) on frotting.
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Large palm trees sprouted beneath the clear sky and bristles danced in pursuit of the mellow jazz that played from stereos. The summer was cooled by the gentlest breeze, and you could hear the wealthy patrons collectively ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ when the flame of their bodies began to simmer from a hard boil.
Across from you was the vast beach that swallowed the rays of the sun, glistening every pulp while visitors joyfully soaked within the dewy radiance. It was a scene straight from a feel-good film, and you couldn’t help but reflect the smile of fond memories onto your own face as you kicked back onto the lounge chair by the pool. 
The crowd around you was sparse compared to the beach-goers. Most preferred the finite space of the pool to keep their children in close proximity, while others, like you, preferred the light the sun gave out when they read a novel.
Jesus, he’s messing with you! How many times are we going to get back together with this douche?! You scoffed and turned to the next page of your thriller novel after flushing the character’s irrational decision to return to their toxic partner with a soda. 
Upon noticing the orange hue cast over the paper, you figured the next chapter would be better saved for the airplane ride back home. You slotted your bookmark in between the printed pages and set it on the table at your side, finishing the rest of your drink with several fizzy gulps.
“Quick dip before we head in?” Dick’s voice startled you and you inhaled sweet bubbles that started a coughing fit. You turned towards him after catching your breath, laughing when you��ve become infected by the light sound of your boyfriend’s chuckle.
“Oh, so now you want to swim?” Your hand reached over to shackle his dangling fingertips with yours and then hopped off the lounge chair and onto your feet. Quick tugs pulled Dick up, freeing him from the slumber that had captured him hours prior.
“I told you I prefer swimming with no one around!” He was awakened to his senses with a yawn and an overhead stretch, pushing his broad chest out and capturing the cast of light in the process. “Peaceful and quiet, and it’s not like they—“
“—can kick out the owner of the resort, I know, I know!” Your teasing always put Dick in a jovial mood, and he thanked you, like always, with a kiss when you pulled him up. As if he read your mind, or rather scorched his hand against the beating warmth of your skin, Dick slid your button down off your body and tossed it onto the chair.
“But I have a feeling there are limits, y’know!” You continued, leading the short walk to the pool. He stuck behind you, following and listening close with his arms wrapped around your waist. “There has to be something they won’t tolerate.”
“Tolerate?” Dick hummed, letting hands roam around your shoulders and arms first, and squeezing at the firm skin to relieve you of the muscle tension you’ve been complaining about since the airplane ride. “We should test out to see how much they can tolerate then.” Then his hands cascaded towards your bottom, cupping a handful of clothed flesh, but with the way Dick had kneaded your ass, the swimming trunks mind as well had become part of your body.
“Hey, hey—“ You jolted at the sudden touch, then cowered back into his hands because with an arch more; you’d embarrassingly expose how easy and quick it was to turn you on. You could hear him snicker into the back of your neck, a grin spreading wide, and you reached back to swat at his hands. 
“Dick, there’s people…” Your voice trailed off as you looked around, because everyone had gone back in now. Was.
He persisted, the begs only made him curl his fingers deep into your mounds in a similar way he had done to his stress ball. Red; the color of his ball; the color of his frustration when shipments were delayed; the color of assault when he goes out on nightly patrols. His chest rose and pressed against your back and when you reached back to hold his forearm, affectionate and loving; the red burned a lovelier hue.  
Dusk was settling into the sky, and all that was left was you and your boyfriend, and the pool that greeted you in a harmony of gentle waves. He squeezed your bottom, then hips in response, hooking his chin over your shoulder to peer at the solitude.
“That never stopped us before,” The positioning of his hands circled to the front of your trunks, and then past the waistband when the tent seized his hand. He wrapped his large hand around your length, squeezing softly as it grew into his palm, and you sighed. 
It was always easy to give into Dick. 
“Restaurants, parking lots, public bathrooms,” He began listing, remembering the fond memories with his own tent aiding his memory, twitching and prodding your bottom. “…clothing racks, back of the bus, during my meetings—“ Your cock grew harder into the gentle motion of his hand, into the memories that was more so evidence that you and Dick should be banned from traveling in public, pumping you into the familiar stiffness until your trunks felt like they had shrunk when Dick pulled his hand out.
You bit back a groan at the loss of friction, the mesh net of your trunks merely providing sufficient builds to your pleasure when you squeezed and rubbed at your tent.
“Noticed how all of those times didn’t start with me? I don’t know how you get horny so quickly—“
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Look at yourself right now!” Dick defended with a playful sputter, grasping you from the front suddenly and giving your cock a tug.
“Yeah!” You gasped, then laughed when he pushed you back into him, and his throbbing bulge. “Once again, you started it!” Teasingly, your hips pushed back in nonchalant swirls, masking it as a sway of dance while his hands were still kept around you.
“And?” He pushed forward, burying a groan into your neck while you swayed. “I always finish it, too.”
“True…” While your head leaned back onto his shoulder, peacefully swaying under the approaching night, you reached back and snuck your hand down his trunks to feel the source of the constant prodding at your bottom. “I can attest to that.”
“Fuck…” His voice lowered into the side of your neck, clutching at your hips as some kind of control to keep him from fucking wildly into your fist, even if you had tempted him with the tightening of your palm.
Dick grew heavy into your hand. You stroked the weight until it sank deep into your skin, until your wrist exhausted itself, until you were frustrated by the confines of his trunks.
“Back to the chair?”
Dick catalogued the surrounding area. Palm trees barely obscured windows, columns of the thick material enforced onlookers to hide behind them. The risks abound with every scan across the vicinity, yet the feeling of adrenaline surged through his veins, turning back to you with a hankering smile.
“We’re here to test their limits, aren’t we?”
“Fuck.”
“Look at me,” Your eyes swept from corner to corner at every little sound that set an alarm of panic, overriding Dick’s voice. It was quite comical to him, watching the caution in your eyes ignite with every blink while your hand soldiered through, stroking his cock by the pool-side. “Baby.”
“Hm?” After foraging the area clear, you casted your gaze upwards to meet Dick’s doting eyes, and the pain on your knees was suddenly more tolerable. 
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Even though you were always more hesitant to the idea of public exhibition, and Dick’s constant teasings of being caught didn’t exactly help, it always ended smoothly. His hand fell down to the back of your head, petting slow to placate your worries. “I promise.”
“You never know! I just don’t want you to get fired, or worse… open a press conference with an apology, and I’m joined by your side or something.” The thought made him laugh, then a sigh replaced the echoing sound when your lips wrapped around the plump head of his cock, sucking and laving your tongue around the glans reminiscently to the rhythm of the gentle pool waves.
“I did warn you that we’d be together every moment in life.” Dick sucked in the cool air as you took more of him in, freezing a moan into the walls of his throat. You held the base, covering the first few inches of meaty girth with spit and love as you sucked the salt and musk off of him, cleansing Dick with your wandering tongue, and the heat of his groan was enough to melt the ice block.
“And I’m not turning back.” His cock hung over your face when you unfurled your hold around him, kissing the throbbing flesh from the tip to the sticky underside of his length, then to his balls, where you enveloped the heavy sack with sloppy sucks. 
“Mm.” His hips pushed forward and his palm on the back of your head gently applied forward in a silent want to bury his spit-covered sack onto your face. They rolled and dragged across your features with the help of his grasp, and you stuck your tongue out in case it needed a new glow from its endeavor.
Pulling away, you took him in again by inclination. His cock sank into your mouth deeper, and your hand wrapped around the girth that never had the fortunate to have met your tongue. You sucked, bobbing your head up and down while your fist swiveled in pursuit of your lips, coating Dick’s thick cock with the remnants of saliva that your tongue had left.
“Fuck, baby…”
Dick’s hand had left your head now in favor of supporting his habit of crossing his arms behind his head while you worked at his cock. You’d notice it when he felt overwhelmed, stressed, de-stressed, pleasured, or maybe all of the above. Either way, it made your heart jump ten-folds because it made him all the more alluring—pornographic, if you had to be lewd. 
His biceps caught onto the light, flexed when you began playing with his balls while you continued on shoving him down your throat. The light highllghted the muscles that you’d find always yourself latching onto when you crossed the street, when you slept together, when he was frustrated with work, when he’d fuck you into the couch, when you’d ride him on the patio; it was your comfort and seeing the muscles flex under the light, you’d wish you had appreciated it more. 
Him, more.
Several moments later, you pulled away to catch your breath, but before you could do so properly, Dick pulled you up onto your feet and into a kiss, where he whispered his gratification in between soft and doting swipes of his lips. “You suck me off so well, fuck.”
“Yeah? Am I a good boy, then?” One arm twined around his neck, while your other hand dropped to jerk your aching cock, playfully slapping it against his own cock in between sessions before pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips. “Daddy?”
His breath hitched, eyebrows cinched a wrinkle in between, and his face lit up when the words that had come out of your mouth had rendered properly.
You and Dick always liked to try something new every now and then, to add more heat to the flame of your endeavors together, and today was the day you’d let your fantasies come alive. Stemmed straight from one of the novels you’ve been reading during the trip, it was quite ludicrous but your boyfriend didn’t have to know that.
“You’re an extremely good boy, baby…” His forehead leaned onto yours and he stared into the light of your eyes, harboring it for himself as he took your cock into his hand and stroked it to the accelerating pace of his heart. “And since you were such a good boy, how do you think daddy should reward you?”
“Hm…” Your mind ran across many thoughts, but then fell silent upon realization, breaking character when you whispered as if there was an audience watching your performance. “Babe, we don’t have lube—“
“Oh shoot… what about the sunscreen—“
“Dude, did you not read that post about this guy going to the ER and having his dick numb because—“
“Okay, so no sunscreen…”
“Oh!” The lightbulb above your head flickered, and you grinned, pulling him close again as if there wasn’t a brief intermission prior. “Ahem, well… there was something I’ve been wanting to try…”
Dick pressed a laugh into your lips, half-kissing you while a grin remained as you had his curiosity piqued. “What’s that?” His hand maintained the blood flow to your erection, stroking and thumbing the head at times.
Your shoulders rolled back from the tender touch and in midst, took Dick’s cock into your palm and pressed it lower, to where you stepped closer to him, flushed against his chest and Dick held you stable now, and released once it cushioned snug in between your thighs. Your cock pressed up against Dick’s pelvis, and your arms twined back around his nest while his was anchored around your waist. 
“A good boy who’s able to suck cock well, and think on their feet. How did I get so lucky?” He softened another chuckle into your lips, where you inhaled him like oxygen, and fused your affection for each other into one when he began thrusting, slow and short to keep your cock confined against his pelvis. 
“I think you’re just rubbing off on me, if I’m being honest.” Your nose pressed into one another as you held each other impossibly close, buckling into each other’s bodies as Dick sandwiched his thick cock in between your pillowy thighs, your own cock throbbed and dripped with thick pre-cum as it pressed to his body.
“Well, I’m definitely rubbing something.” His hands dropped to your ass, where he began kneaded at the mounds as he stabilized his position into keeping a rhythm to his thrusts. His thick cock rubbed in between your thighs, and he’d groan when you clenched around him, restricting his movements to mere bumps. 
“Shut up—“ You could feel his pre-cum spreading thick along your flesh, and you squeezed once more to pull another delightful sound of him, another drip that layered on your sweaty skin.
In midst, you held his arms tight, admiring his muscles whenever they flexed as he fucked into your tight thighs until he breached through with several desperate plunges, moaning when the cold air met the slit of the sticky head. His body was your rock, your support, as you thrusted your cock over his pelvis. It slid and pressed into his skin as you thrusted, finding a rhythm of Dick’s own hips, and your bodies collectively move together like a dance. Humping each other like animals when you felt close, then slowed at an excruciating pace to a symphony of moans into the night air.
“Fuck me, daddy— fuck.” You begged into Dick’s lips, hissing because you felt your cock become swollen than before, beating red at the tip as if he was the cause of this pleasurable allergic reaction. You humped him desperately, rubbing your cock against him while allowing your thighs to stick to Dick’s large cock like glue. 
“You want my cock so bad, don’t you…” He pressed into you, harder and deeper. It was unfulfilling at first. He wasn’t exactly fucking into anything, but he loved the control he had of your body in this position. Dick clutched into your ass, separating and squeezing the mounds as he maneuvered your body to his liking. “Taking my cock in any way you’d like…”
Back and forth, Dick pulled your body into his and met every plunge of his cock in between your thighs. Occasionally, he’d pull farther for a change of pace, rubbing his cock against you for a brief frot. The stimulation seized drips of pre-cum to layer upon your cock and Dick’s for a slimy friction, mutually gliding over one another. The two cocks mingled, caressed, and slid while you two held each other close until Dick took it upon himself to cushion his cock back in between your thighs and began fucking you again.
Breathless, Dick fucked into your thighs while desperately holding onto your body in fret of letting you, as if he wasn’t the one in control. His nails sunk deep into your ass, but you only took it as his love for you, wearing the indentation like battle scars while you humped into him. Your balls fit the curve of his cock, rolling over the ample shaft with pride, and you rubbed Dick’s chest. Broad, sweaty, and muscular, pinched at his nipples, and then tugged because you needed him close.
Closer than before because you were close. 
“Keep fucking me—“ He slapped your ass once, growling into the open-mouthed kiss, and you jolted into him, fucking your cock against his pelvis at a snappy rhythm. Your thigh clenched from your stance, providing Dick a confinement that was a nightmare to breach through, but when he did, it was incredibly fulfilling and eye-rolling, slipping completely out to repeat the cycle as the addiction for the brief catharsis had only been building.  
Moans deposited into another’s mouth, swallowing and taking each other in with complete rapture, and then withdrew when your chest swelled and stomach pumped with a familiar feeling that had been accumulated through dry-humps and desperate yet intimate endeavors.
“Dick—“ You choked out, clutching onto his shoulders, then his hair, then his arms, because your legs felt weak, wobbly like spaghetti noodles, like all the strength had been lost in your calves when you thrusted for the last time, and relieved yourself in heavy, thick ropes. “F-fuck, fuck!”
A shudder in midst of Dick’s eager and continuing thrusts, you shot cum all over his pelvis, stomach, and even aimed high enough to have stain his chest. Tremors surged, and Dick held you close to keep them confined, but to also selfishly reach his own heaven as he neared his climax within seconds of watching you in awe, emptying yourself all over him.
“Baby, I’m going to come—“ His lips collided into yours for a messy kiss. Tongues chased pink flesh after pink flesh in pursuit of the sweet taste of one another. Swiveled and swirled while Dick violated into you with his big cock, mingled with either sides of your thighs, bruised your ass with his hands, glued his chest to yours with your cum; all of the simultaneous friction built his stomach to bubble in a powerful acclamation. He was as breathless as you were, shaking the haziness in his vision as you fed into the fog with your touch and voice. You stroked his chest, squeezed them, then his biceps, and then his toned stomach, made him feel loved and worshipped as you moaned at the mere sight of his muscles flex and pulsate as his high approached.
“Oh fuck…” Dick delivered several more thrusts into your thighs, you held them close to prevent an opening, before spilling and shooting his thick seed all over your soft yet toned flesh. One load shamelessly came after another, pulling multiple moans out of Dick, and you swallowed them all as you felt yourself layered thick and warm with his cum from beneath, bathing in them as if it was the summer sun. Throughout his climax, your hands maintained its wander, easing the tremors that sent Dick’s body into subtle jolts and goosebumps with cascading warmth and affection, and then kissed him once more, like you always did towards the end.
“You always make such a mess.” Lethargy quickly crept over you, and you practically pushed all of his weight into Dick’s arms as your muscles almost gave out, yawning, but the sticky and thick cum uncomfortably dripping down your legs kept you alert. 
“You seriously cannot be complaining.” He scoffed, stepping back so you would get a view of how drenched his toned body was, kudos to your loads.
“That’s just sunscreen—“
“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!
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pucksandpower · 9 months
Text
Grid Kids: First Times
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: they know you’re their mom … you know they’re your kids … but these are the first times you all say so out loud
Series Masterlist
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Max Verstappen: Champion of the World
The roar of the engines has faded, the race has ended, and the stands are filled with jubilant cheers. Among the sea of fans waving flags, the color of the Orange Army is predominant. Max Verstappen has just clinched his first World Championship.
As confetti rains down, Max climbs atop his car, soaking in the euphoria. His face displays a myriad of emotions: triumph … relief … elation. During the celebratory chaos, he searches for a familiar face, and as his eyes find yours, a calm settles over him.
As you approach, he jumps down and without a moment’s hesitation pulls you into a tight embrace. Over the din, he murmurs something almost inaudible.
“Thanks, Mom.”
You pull back, a bit taken aback. The weight of the single word isn’t lost on either of you. Max, ever the tough racer, has tears glistening in his eyes.
He clears his throat, trying to mask the emotion, “I mean, after everything, you’ve been like a second mom to me. I couldn’t have done it without your support.”
Sebastian joins the moment, a proud smile on his face. “Welcome to the champions’ club,” he jokes but the underlying pride in his voice is unmistakable.
You wipe away a tear, “I’ve always believed in you, Max. And no matter what, you’ll always be one of my grid kids.”
Charles Leclerc: What If
The race is intense, the energy palpable. But in a split second, the exhilaration turns to horror as Charles’ car careens off track, crashing into the barriers. The scene is chilling and the paddock holds its collective breath.
Time seems to stretch endlessly until, finally, the screens show Charles moving inside his cockpit. It's a sign — he's conscious. When he is carefully extricated from the wreckage and gives a thumbs-up to the cameras, relief washes over everyone.
As he is taken to the medical center, your grid kids gather, their usual playful banter replaced by anxious glances and silent support.
When you’re finally allowed to see Charles, his face is pale, eyes reflecting the trauma of the crash. Despite the bandages and evident pain, he manages a small smile upon seeing you.
“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse.
You lean over, brushing the hair from his forehead, your touch filled with motherly concern. “Hey yourself. You gave us all quite the scare.”
He swallows hard, gaze locking onto yours, vulnerability evident. “I thought ... for a moment there ... I thought I wouldn’t ...” he trails off, the gravity of the incident heavy in the room.
You take his hand, offering comfort and strength. “But you’re here, Charles. You’re here.”
He nods, tears forming. And then, in a voice filled with raw emotion, he murmurs, “Thank you, Mom.”
The title that slips out isn’t one of blood or birth but of bond and heart.
You squeeze his hand, “Always, Charles. Always.”
Lance Stroll: Who Needs Wrists Anyway?
After Sebastian’s retirement, life quiets down somewhat. The raucous race weekends are replaced with peaceful moments gardening and beekeeping. But the bond with your grid kids remains as strong as ever.
One evening, a call disturbs the calm. Lance had taken a hard fall while biking and had broken both his wrists. The news shakes you, memories of crashes flooding back. Without hesitation, you pack a bag and book the next flight out to be by his side.
When you enter Lance’s room, you're struck by the sight before you. Both his hands are in casts, his usually playful eyes clouded with pain and frustration. However, seeing you brings a faint smile to his face.
“You didn’t have to come,” he starts, though the gratefulness in his tone betrays him.
You chuckle, pulling a chair beside his bed, “How could I not? I can’t let you starve or wear the same clothes for weeks.”
Lance laughs, “Well, there’s always the option of going commando.”
You both chat, the room filled with light-hearted banter in an attempt to lift the mood. As you prepare to leave for the night after ensuring he is comfortable and has everything he needs, Lance’s voice halts you.
“You know,” he starts, hesitating, “Even after Seb retired, you still ... you’re still here for us, for me. It means a lot.”
You turn back, smiling gently. “Once a family, always a family.”
He swallows, emotion causing his voice to waver, “Thanks, Mom.”
You reach out to squeeze his arm in comfort but remember the reason for your visit. Pulling back before you could hurt Lance, you say, “Get some rest. We’ve got a lot of healing to do.”
George Russell: King of PowerPoint
The rookies sit in the dim room, fidgeting in their chairs, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness. They’re about to receive their initiation presentation by none other than George Russell, now the Director of the GPDA — an annual tradition to welcome the new drivers, give them insights into the world of F1, and ensure they understand the guidelines, all while keeping it light and enjoyable. It’s also an excuse to give a PowerPoint … and George never turns down an opportunity to put his prowess to good use.
George steps up to the podium, clicking the remote to begin his presentation. The slides cover everything from safety protocols to media interactions. But then, a slide pops up with a familiar face on the screen: yours.
The title reads: “The Heart of Our F1 Family”
George pauses, taking a deep breath. “Now, for those of you new to Formula 1, there’s someone you need to know, someone who has been instrumental for many of us drivers, both on and off the track.”
He clicks to the next slide, showcasing a larger image of you, radiant in the middle of a race weekend while giving one of your famous pep talks to the grid kids.
“This,” George says, voice filled with warmth, “is Y/N Vettel. To the world, she’s known for her contributions to the sport, her philanthropy, and so much more. But to many of us drivers,” he glances at the familiar faces of the other grid kids sitting at the back, “she’s known simply as Mom.”
There’s a hushed silence, the emotional weight of the moment evident.
“She’s our anchor, our guiding light, and sometimes,” George grins, “our stern disciplinarian. If you ever find yourselves needing advice or just someone to talk to, you know where to turn. Welcome to Formula 1!”
Lando Norris: Stream and Shout
Lando is live on Twitch, engaging with thousands upon thousands of fans from around the world while deeply engrossed in a racing simulation game — swerving, overtaking, and trying to claim the top spot. Along with the intense gaming, he’s also juggling questions from fans.
“Hey Lando, any tips for new racers?” one fan asks.
“Just keep training, mate. And don’t get disheartened by failures,” Lando replies, narrowly avoiding a virtual crash.
Another question pops up in the chat, “Who’s been your biggest supporter in F1?”
Lando doesn’t hesitate. “Well, there’s my team, my family, and of course,” he pauses as he navigates a tricky turn on his screen, “there’s Y/N. She is ... well, she’s like a mom to many of us on the grid. Actually,” he corrects himself with a grin, leaning closer to the mic, “She IS mom.”
Fans catch on quickly, and the chat floods with comments.
“Mom? That’s so sweet!”
“Tell us more about her!”
Lando chuckles, “She’s just ... amazing. Always there, always supportive. We’ve had our fair share of fun, chaos, and love. If you’re ever around the paddock, you’ll know. Y/N is magnetic in the best way.”
Mick Schumacher: Drunken Adoration
The end-of-season party is in full swing. It is a tradition where everyone lets loose by either celebrating their successes or shrugging off the stress of the competitive year. The atmosphere is electric with loud music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.
Mick has perhaps indulged a bit too much. His usually composed and calm demeanor is replaced with a giddy, slightly wobbly version of himself.
As you navigate through the crowd, ensuring everyone was having a good time and not getting into too much trouble, you find Mick seated at the bar, a glass of something strong in his hand.
“Hey!” you call out, approaching him, “Having fun?”
Mick turns, his eyes slightly glazed but recognizing you instantly. A wide smile spreads across his face, “Hey! You know, you’re really awesome.” He slurs, the alcohol evident in his speech.
Laughing, you reply, “Thanks, Mick. Maybe we should switch to water now?”
He shakes his head, trying to focus. “No, no, you don’t get it. You’re not just awesome. You’re ... you’re like ... my mom. Like, a second mom. But also the first because you’re always there and ... you get it, right?”
You chuckle, moved by his inebriated but sincere confession. “I get it, Mick. And thank you. That means a lot.”
Helping him off the stool, you decide it’s time to get him some coffee and maybe a sandwich. “Come on, let’s sober you up a bit.”
As you lead him away, Mick continues to mumble about how great you are, his drunken words filled with genuine affection.
The party continues but for you, that heartfelt albeit tipsy confession is the highlight of the evening.
You: Sons and Spotlights
It’s a grand evening and the room glistens with opulence. Influential personalities from various fields gather, all in the name of charity and giving back. The annual International Philanthropy Awards Gala is an event where the most generous hearts are recognized, and this year, you’re among the honorees.
As you take the stage to accept the award for your contributions to various charities, the spotlight shines brightly but among the crowd, you spot familiar faces — Charles, Max, Lando, Mick, George, and Lance sitting next to your husband. Their presence is unexpected but deeply touching
You begin your speech, gratitude evident in every word, “Giving back is a principle I have always lived by. We are blessed in so many ways and it’s our duty to share those blessings with others.” As you continue, mentioning the various charities and initiatives you work with, an overwhelming wave of emotion grips you.
Taking a moment to compose yourself, you glance once more at your grid kids and say, “I have had many titles over the years — friend, daughter, wife — but one that has been among the most precious to me is simply being Mom.”
The room seems to hold its collective breath.
“These young men,” you continue, gesturing towards them, “are my sons in every way that matters. Not by birth but by bond. Charles, Max, George, Lando, Mick, and Lance are my source of strength, joy, and sometimes, a bit of frustration,” you add with a twinkle in your eye, causing a ripple of laughter.
“But more than anything, they are my family. And tonight, in this room filled with so many esteemed individuals, I want to take a moment to thank my sons. For their love, for their constant support, and for making me the best possible version of myself.”
As applause fills the room, your grid kids stand, pride evident in their glassy eyes that mirror your own, joining the crowd in honoring you. They might be champions on the track, but off it, they are just sons, celebrating their mom.
Bonus: A Family Holiday
Mother’s Day arrives and you wake to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers on your doorstep accompanied by a heartfelt note that reads:
For the woman who has been a mother to us all.
Touched by the gesture, you make your way to the living room. As you enter, warm smiles greet you and the scent of a homemade breakfast wafts through the air.
“Happy Mother’s Day!” your grid kids chorus, raising their glasses.
Max grins, “We know you’re not our biological mom but you’ve definitely earned the title.”
Charles, holding a tray with a stack of pancakes, adds, “We couldn’t ask for a better mentor and friend.”
Lance, with a card in hand, steps forward, “And we wanted to show our appreciation.”
You take the card, and as you read, your heart swells. It’s filled with their personal messages, anecdotes, and memories — marking the journey you’ve all shared.
George, holds out a gift bag with a sheepish grin, “We thought you might like this.”
Inside the bag is a beautiful necklace with six interconnected rings, each representing one of your grid kids. It symbolizes the bond you share, a connection as unbreakable as those rings.
Tears well up in your eyes, “This ... this is so thoughtful.”
Mick smiles softly, “You’ve always been there, through everything. This is just a small token of our gratitude.”
You pull them all into a group hug, the love and warmth radiating through the room. “Thank you, my sons. This means the world to me.”
And as you all sit down to enjoy the homemade (only slightly charred) breakfast, the simple yet emotional celebration of Mother's Day reminds you that family isn’t just about blood ties. It’s about the connections forged through shared experiences, tireless support, and love that transcends convention.
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melonn-soda · 29 days
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❝ DON'T LEAVE JUST YET ( LET ME BREATHE WITH YOU ) ... ❞
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word count: 968
warning(s): aventurine/ m! reader, nothing that serious (I believe) other than aventurine just not feeling well, comfort (chara. receiving), ooc aventurine?
prompt: aventurine has a rough start to his morning and he really need you to be with him.
notes: short comfort drabble with aventurine bc I feel like it. also I didn't play the new update so I don't have a clear idea on what his past was like. if anything is considered offensive, please tell me so I may change it!!
fem aligned dni
Mornings with Aventurine are usually slow with the reluctance of wanting to get up and the sluggish movements from underneath the warm covers rendering the possibility because you both are just too comfortable. Your lover is usually always first to get up and wake you, though, through lazy kisses on your forehead with a slight brush of your hair. Sometimes, it's you who was to wake him because he was working later than he would've liked and harder than he has before.
So, as the orange and red hues of the waking sun seep past the forest green curtains and flood the bedroom in all its softness, you stir awake and shift against the man who has you in his hold. Eyelids still feeling heavy, you shuffle so your face is buried deeper into Aventurine's collarbone, his arms that settle themselves around your waist tightening then loosening as he begins to rise from his sleep.
Feather-like kisses are pressed against the edge of his collarbone, just to let him know that you're still awake. He sighs into your hair after a while, sounding more exhausted than you would've like for him to be. In a quick decision, you decide it's best to make breakfast today and begin to draw away from him, slowly, as to not startle his barely awake self.
However, you plans are cut short as you feel him yank you back into place, Aventurine's nose finding its place in-between your neck and shoulder, arms wrapped tighter around your waist. You blink, not moving because he clearly does not want you to leave and that means something is terribly wrong.
"Ven?" You whisper, bringing a hand up to brush some of his bangs that are messily covering his eyes away from them, "You okay? Water?" Questions leave your lips, carefully, as to not scare him away, if that were even possible.
His voice cracks, you're not sure if it's because of the sleep or if he's beginning to cry but it cracks, "Can you just stay for a moment? Please? Don't want you to leave just yet.. Need you t'be with me right now." His eyelashes brush against your skin and his lips graze your neck as he speaks, and as per his request you don't move, attempting to press yourself closer against him even if all of you was as close as humanly possible. It was one of those days for him.
"D'you wanna talk about it?" You ask, running your fingers through his hair. Aventurine's head shakes against you because he doesn't feel ready to open up all of his sensitive memories to you. But that's okay, because healing takes time and you'll wait an eternity for him. With reassuring kisses against his hair and soft strokes of his face, you hope that he gets the message that you'll always be there when he needs you most, waiting and ready to listen.
Two hours pass, the sun now fairly high in the sky, making the room brighter. Somewhere in between those hours, you fell right back asleep unknowingly for a few minutes but always awoke to Aventurine still holding you tight (not that you minded). Each time that happened, yours lips pressed against his forehead to tell him you're awake now.
"...Thank you for not leaving." Aventurine mumbles onto your skin, slowly pulling away from you. His face was now visible, saturated swirls purple and green not facing your direction and instead directed at the end of the bed, "Sorry if I inconvenienced you."
You shush him softly, bringing your hand up to his cheek and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone, "I don't mind one bit. You matter so much more than anything else that I need to do today. If anything troubles you, I'm happy to just be there for you. Don't feel bad about asking for some company, Ven." A kiss is placed right between his eyebrows and Aventurine can't help but melt. His boyfriend, someone who treasures above all, is all he could've asked for. So patient, so gentle, so considerate, someone who he knows he could place all his trust in even if his instincts refuse to comply.
And when Aventurine looks into your eyes for the first time this morning, he feels at ease to see that you gaze at him with those same loving eyes as you always do. No anger directed at him because he refuses to tell you all about his life, no disappointment because you feel like he doesn't trust you enough, nothing. Nothing but love.
"I should- um, probably go make us some breakfast." He stutters, making a motion to slip out of his side of the bed. His silk pajamas glide against the sheets smoothly, only to be pulled back and have the sheets tossed right back over his chest, "Huh-?"
"Nuh uh," You quickly deny him, taking one of the stuffed animals on your side of the bed and placing it next to him, "I'll take care of that today, you need to rest, even if you're not tired. I'll call you in sick or something so you can have the day off."
"But-"
"But nothing, Ven," A peck to Aventurine's lips quickly shuts him up, "Just relax, it's the least you could do. You deserve this more than you think you do. I'll make some French Toast for us, yeah?" You tell him, slipping out of bed and your feet sliding into your fuzzy slippers. And with a click of the door, you're off to cooking.
Aventurine stares at the door for a bit before holding your stuffed animal close to his chest, the toy still smelling like you. He's glad he has someone like you in his life. Because of this, he doesn't think he'll ever stop loving you.
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angstmachine-rw · 3 months
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Can I talk about this image from Rivulet's ending for a second?
(edited to add a break because the post is very Long TM)
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If Five Pebbles knows that you are delivering the Rarefaction Cell, Moon pulls this message up alongside the dialogue;
"I cannot run away from my mistakes forever; Please understand." Five Pebbles, what have you done… I've been given so much already, and now you've given all you had left.
Based off of Moon's dialogue, this seems to be an inbox of some sort. We can assume that the orange symbol is basically Five Pebbles' profile picture. Which would mean that the pictures to the side are unread messages from other iterators, some more clear than others.
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Based on what we know of other iterators, it is probably safe to assume that the green diamonds are No Significant Harassment, while the red sun is, well, Seven Red Suns. We also see that Pebbles' message got greyed out when Moon opened it. Now, this is all well and good for understanding another aspect of how iterator communication works, that being that they can basically send emails to each other. However, that brings up a few questions; one, who the hell is this blue iterator?
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This iterator's symbol is a bit different from the rest, seeming to have the third and fourth karma symbol in their profile picture, alongside a diamond in between. There are three possibilities in my mind. I'll go from most likely to least likely:
This is Chasing/Grey Wind, trying to check up on Moon before or after her collapse. This would make sense, based on their dialogue in the pearls.
This is Unparalleled Innocence. Despite being a jerk to Pebbles, perhaps they checked on Moon at some point.
This is Looks to the Moon, sending a message to herself, perhaps in hopes of using the inbox as a secondary form of memory if she is able to access it. The inbox has at least lasted all this time, for as long as the broadcast networks have been down.
My second question would be; what is the content of the messages from Sig and Suns? I believe that, for Sig's messages, they're the broadcasts that we see him send to Moon before her collapse. However, they could also be Sig's attempts to get the slag reset keys to her without needing his messenger to do it.
As for Suns, they could be apologizing to Moon for what had happened. After all, they were indirectly responsible for her collapse.
I suppose my ultimate takeaway from all of this is; I like getting a glimpse at what iterators can do, and how they interface with each other and the world. I also enjoy speculating about trivial things, lol.
Anyways, thank you for reading my ramblings. It means a lot. Now, though, I must return to my work (aka calculus homework :P). Have a good night y'all!
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bywons · 2 months
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𝜗ৎ MIDNIGHT SHENANIGANS! (enhypen)
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⌕ it's midnight, and you both can't catch any sleep, what to do now?
𖦹 pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 2.1k tw/cw. skinship, nicknames genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE!? ) sru's note procrastinated big time on this one :) hope y'all enjoy this!
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heeseung (이희성) 、 both of you are bored, your favourite tv show no longer being able to keep you both entertained or make you laugh till your stomachs ached. it fades into the background, slowly becoming a faint backdrop noise for your half tedious and half weary bodies tangled with each other on the couch.
"'this season just got boring", you yawn, pushing yourself closer to heeseung's broad and warm chest while his hand strokes your back, "i wonder if the next season would be bett—"
"right now the only thing you should wonder about is to get some sleep", heeseung's bored interruption causes he formation of a small frown on your face as you sit up beside him.
"you know im a night owl, hee", you sigh, angling your neck up to meet his eyes looking softly down at yours, "hmm, why don't you serenade me? pretty boy?"
heeseung reciprocates your smirk and clears his throat to sing his lover to sleep, before he can get some himself.
or so he thought. his serenade attempt soon turned to a session of singing competition after you sang the next line to a song heeseung didn't really like.
the silent living room soon gets filled with heesung's serene voice and your attempts at singing, and every time heeseung has a voice crack you mock him, laughing and falling onto his lap. your silly little singing competition continues until you both fall asleep in each other's embrace in the couch.
but nobody thanks the tv show, which still runs in the background and serenades both of you to sleep.
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jay (박종성) 、 you thought your boyfriend jay wouldn't notice your absence or the slow sink and rise of the soft bed mattress beside him, and you would slip away from his loose hold and stand idly in front of the open fridge in the dark, totally forgetting your initial plan.
but then a sudden husky, sleepy, familiar voice startles you, "what are you doing there, love?"
the orange light emerging from inside the fridge illuminates your dull white tee, and accentuates jay's hands around the waistline of your joggers soon enough.
jay presses soft kisses along your neck, whispering, "are you hungry?"
"and bored", you huff.
"then let's cook something together yeah?", jay suggests before putting on his cooking apron and helping you with yours.
you have absolutely no idea on how to prepare the apple pie 'cause after all you're jay's girlfriend! he pampers you too much and cooks everything you like for you, so naturally you stood still in the middle of the kitchen, your time passing by yapping to your boyfriend and handing him the ingredients.
jay adds to your little rants, whilst single-handedly baking the apple pie, but with your little necessary helps tho <3
and when the apple pie is finally done, jay cuts the biggest portion for you, letting you taste it first.
the clock ticks by and the dull kitchen is filled by your hungry munching mouths and lovelorn eyes, jay and you enjoying each other's presence even in the boring hour at midnight.
this is bound to become a memory.
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jake (심자연) 、 "but i didn't watch la la land!" "but i did!"
you guys were supposed to select a movie to watch like an hour ago now, but obviously it can't go smoothly without your usual bickering.
the night grows darker and your usual bedtime is in the long past, it's almost 1 o'clock, and both of you just wanted the movie marathon night to be over already, but not without selecting a movie you both would enjoy. and that seems impossible at this rate.
"be so for real right now, what do you really wanna watch jake?", you are losing your patience by the minute now, you only ever call him by his name when you are either annoyed or fed up by him. your eyes are threatening to close any second and you want to either a) watch a movie and cuddle to sleep with your boyfriend or b) just give everything up and sleep already.
"whichever you wanna watch", hearing this from your boyfriend makes your temper rise even more. and alas, you both agreed on something you both hate— horror movies.
ah yes, bodies huddling together with eyelids dropping to make your visions blurry and indefinite, as if it would make the movie any less scary. jake's arms pull you into a close hug as he whispers, "i t-think we should skip this part babe", to the most important part of the story.
both of you flinch at the low growl from the monster like entity in the movie. and to even make the atmosphere scarier, y'all jumped and screamed— almost waking up the neighbours —when both of you mistook layla's bark as some monster.
"babe, i think we should sleep", and that marks the end of your movie night, not even 30 minutes into the movie and your bodies are covered by the white duvet, cuddling close to each other.
such bravehearts, eh?
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sunghoon (박성훈) 、 as soon as you step back after pressing the record button on your phone, sunghoon comes sprinting and sweeps you by your feet and twirls you out of the recording frame.
"ugh, hoonie!", you whine with upturned lips and kicking feet, with your boyfriend holding you up with his strong arms, "you entered at the wrong moment!"
"did i?", sunghoon was confused at first, but that expression soon wipes off his face when his eyes fall upon your pouty one. he smirks, "i don't think there's any wrong or right moment for me to pick you up in my arms, darling."
your twitching lips betray you. it opposes your expressions and matches your feelings, you couldn't help but smile down at your boyfriend who's already having heart eyes for you, and you feel blood rushing up to the tip of your ears.
"ok but do it properly this time hoon", you giggle. sunghoon lets you down to your feet, watching you run over to your phone again, resetting the tiktok recording.
this time you had to do it right, after all this can't go on till the sun peeks over the horizon and decides to wish you a good morning.
but as they say, third times the charm. this time the tiktok came out perfectly, just as you wanted to; with you looking over to the side before getting snatched away by your boyfriend in a lightening speed, and off the camera sunghoon presses soft kisses on your cheeks, soft hushed giggles filling the otherwise serene room. little affectionate moments meant only for you <3
and now the clock's almost hitting 1 am, hanged above your heads, under which the both of you scrolled past all the numerous, silly tiktoks you filmed. some with choreographies and planned lip syncs, and others just crack videos of you two, which the tiktok community will probably not see.
the night grows deeper and so does your love, but alongside the bag under your eyes </3
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sunoo (김선우) 、 the pink clay mask feels cold on your skin, as you srunch up your face while sunoo applies it on you.
"don't do that, it can leave wrinkles!",sunoo exclaims although he moves his whole face a little too much with the half dry clay mask sitting cold on his own skin.
"oh, so i see how it is," you sigh, making a face full of faux melancholy, "you will not love me anymore once im all wrinkly and old."
"you know that's not true", with a clink sunoo keeps down the applicator on the washroom marble top, he swears he would pull you in the most endearing kiss if you two didn't have this pink moist layer on your faces, "and to answer your question, yes. i would still love you if you were a worm."
"but i didn't ask that question?!" "i know you would eventually."
you smile ear to ear, small wrinkles forming on the corners of your eyes as they squint and curve. sunoo's previous suggestion is completely ignored by you, and he himself doesn't abide by it, striking you a bright grin.
this little skincare session could've waited till the sunrise but what to say, your boredom took over and the next thing you know is doing each other's skincare routine.
"i love this face mask. it's pink and lavender scented", you mumbled to yourself, picking up the container sunoo just put down.
"but i don't smell lavender?", a frown forms on sunoo's face quickly as he scrunched up his nose, smelling the container lid again. and when he snatches the container from you and reads all over it, his eyes circle into horror.
"wait", he whispers, his face falling, "....is this expired?!"
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jungwon (장정원) 、 "I can't sleep", you whisper while rolling over and practically letting all your body weight on your boyfriend laying next to you.
"me too", he sighs, tackling your body to his side of the bed and holding you close.
but the next thing you know is that you have your boyfriends blue and white hoodie on, standing in the middle of a random aisle in the 24/7 supermarket. you watch jungwon surf through the different snacks showcased in the aisle, and no matter how much he would compliment a different snack he would still buy the same chocolate strawberries.
"so what are we here for again?", sighing, you stand next to jungwon as he carefully reads the ingredients on the back of a cookie box, which you don't think will eventually make it's way to the empty shopping basket.
"weren't we bored? plus we can't sleep", jungwon mumbles and surprises you as he tosses the vanilla cookie box into the shopping basket.
"woah", your mouth forms an 'o' shape along with your eyebrows moving up, "what happed to the regular chocolate strawberries?"
"well i guess it's time for a change!", jungwon puts on a smug smile, knowing you despise vanilla cookies. but you are no better. you nod your head and your hands find their way to the mint chocolate ice cream box soon enough, "if you want vanilla cookies then i want mint choco."
"oh that's not happening", jungwon rolls his eyes, chasing after you down the aisle. "if you don't want it to happen then put down the cookies!", you give back an even meaner eye roll.
the supermarket total had six people inside it, including half asleep cashier and a punk teenager trio. they watched you enter and now they stood watching you both bickering, with jungwon insisting on the getting the cookies and you not letting go of the mint chocolate tub.
but at the end the basket is indeed carrying the chocolate strawberries to the counter, with your scowls turned into happy, content faces and bodies clinging to each other in the cold night.
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riki (니시무라니키) 、 you have been urging riki for as long as forever, to go on a painting date in one of those aesthetic eat and draw cafés.
but our guy riki is efficient. he agrees yes, but on a random thursday. at quater to 1 am. in your house. on the already messy floor. instead of preparing for your final terms next weeks, you are busy painting each other in the most hilarious way possible.
"this is gonna be the bestest portrait of you, ever", riki chortles as he gathers his knees upto his chest, hiding his canvas behind them.
"uhh nobody has ever drawn a portrait of me?"
"that's why i'm the best boyfriend", he says proudly.
you already know what's going on on his canvas. last time he drew you, you could hardly recognize yourself except your outfit. you expect quite the same outcome for this time as well.
"ta-daaa~", riki finally reveals his long awaited portrait of you. you giggle at it and crawl your way to sit beside him. this one melts your heart, on the canvas riki doodled you and all your favourite stuff— from sanrio characters to ramen bowls, cats, skirts, coffee cups to even a small nishimura riki at the corner. he chirps, "how is it?"
you reply to him by pressing a kiss to his cheeks, watching them turn redder by the second. "cutest thing ever", you mumble, resting your head on his shoulders.
riki ruffles your hair and presses his cheek on top of your head.
but of course, this beautiful moment had to be ruined because you can't catch a breathe. your phone rings with a notification beside you and when you take a look at it, your back is straightened and a scowl takes upon your face.
"really now?! they preponded the exam!"
"o-oh no baby when is it?", a worried riki asks.
"tomorrow is my calculus paper!"
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© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @aueyi @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaasia111
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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A Fate Inked In Starlight
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Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel
Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.
Warnings - mentions of blood, Eris being gentle 🥺, memory loss, kinda arsehole Rhys?x
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five
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Leaves of red and orange peered down at you inquisitively, and the earth was hard and slightly damp beneath you.
You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting coating the inside of your mouth. The world tilted, a dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.
It hadn’t worked.
Looking about, you drank in where you had awoken, soil and an array of foliage welcomed your sight, dark bark held onto browning leaves, some of which floated around where you sat. Light birdsong and the faint chirp of crickets flittered around you with the occasional crunch of dry twigs that snapped under the weight of the mammals that trotted by, not heading much mind to you.
You were clad in some kind of black armour, a second skin that fit you perfectly as it curved around your breasts and hips, the material splitting open in the shape of lightening across your chest where yellow gems and light hummed. Jewelled metal talons were fitted to your fingertips, coated with dry blood that had worked itself into each crevasse it could. You were sure that whatever you looked like was not a pretty sight.
Something had kept you glued to your spot, swaying slightly from the brute force that had clearly been wrecked upon you. From what you had no idea.
From the distance, you heard the beating of hooves against the hard ground, growing louder with each passing moment before a brilliant white stag exploded into the clearing where you were. It was beautiful, those pools of emerald bore into you, there was terror laced behind them, and the stag readied his attack as he lowered his antlers toward you.
“I’m not going to harm you,” you told the creature with an extended hand, an extension of your surrender, “I promise.”
The stag surveyed you, noting the wild hair that had fallen from a once tightly strung braid, the blood that coated your neck and fingers, the bewilderment in your eyes. No, you certainly weren’t a threat.
“I’m not sure how I came to be here. I don’t know where I am,” you continued, as if the stag would be able to answer any of your questions.
The creature relaxed, taking a tentative step forward to sniff the outstretched talons fixed to your fingertips. He huffed and shook his head, one of his hooves tapping against the ground as another sound entered your earshot.
“Dogs,” you said softly, sadness laced in your rough voice that scratched at your throat. “Go. I’ll distract them,” you turned your hand, exposing your palm to him, he rested his snout in it gently, and only for a moment before he bounded away. Leaping over molehills whilst leaving you alone once more.
The barking drew closer and your breath caught in your throat at the obvious number of hounds that approached your position, perhaps mistaking your blood for that of the stags.
They hurtled into the clearing, the hedges and flowers parting for them as they surged through the air and landed in front of you, mouths pulled back and snarling teeth ready to tear you apart. You shuffled back as they circled you, snapping, slobber dripping from their canines causing your heart rate to beat in your ears. Hitting the trunk of a tree, you sighed, realising there were no weapons attached to the leather holsters at your thighs made your current predicament a lot more complicated.
You wouldn’t dream of harming an animal, at least, you thought so.
A flutter of your heart gave way to gentle excitement when you had seen the stag, and even the dogs despite them wanting to turn you into a meal.
A sharp whistle tore their attention from you, pulling them back to the source as he too entered the clearing. His head was tilted to the side and he examined you with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, assessing if you were a threat or not. Red hair and amber eyes found you, and he approached, splitting his gaze between you and your laboured breathing to the scene around you both.
“Who are you?” His voice was rough but held a stoic calm, the deepness of his words made your hairs stand on edge.
A simple question. Your name. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you stuttered, eyes wide as nothing came to mind, “I, I don’t know.”
You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Wide doe eyes staring at him in bewilderment, he knew your skin would be soft despite the mud and blood coating your surface. The sharp jaw and hallowed cheeks, full pouted lips and an elegantly pointed nose. Too beautiful for a human or fae.
The confusion etched into every inch of your features made the man relax a little, he knelt before you, his dogs happy with wagging tails brushing against his side, “Do you know where you came from?” By the looks of your armour, the blood coated talons, and the cuts dug into the side of your neck, it was clear to him that you weren’t from Prythian. You looked too advanced for his world.
You shook your head, muttering a faint and weak answer to him.
He hummed, reaching to tuck a strand of your dirty matted hair behind your pointed ear. Fae, he noted. Smiling when you didn’t flinch under his touch, he offered a hand to you, it was calloused and rough, but his pressure was gentle and guiding as he helped you from the ground.
“I’m Eris Vanserra, and you’re in the Autumn Court,” he looked down at you through thick lashes and offered a warm smile.
“Eris,” his name fell from your lips and he nodded in encouragement as you familiarised yourself with the sound of it. Yes, you definitely weren’t from his world, if you were, you’d surely cower from his name and the mention of where you were.
A pressure consumed your feet, and you found one of his hounds sat on them, staring up at you with its panting tongue flopping against the side of its jaw, its tail rustling the leaves beneath it as it wagged happily, “That’s enough, Duke,” Eris scolded the hound, rubbing between his ears in a bid to get him to move, “I’m sorry about him.”
“Don’t be. I don’t mind,” you smiled, and he noticed the warmth in your eyes, the molten gold and ocean blue that could have him entranced if he wasn’t careful. “I’m sorry about this,” you motioned the air, the current situation you found yourselves in, “I wish I knew what to say.”
“It’s fine,” he frowned slightly as he peered at the still open flesh on your neck that leaked with every heartbeat, “Let me help you with that.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
Eris smirked, “You’re not asking,” he shrugged as he heading back in the direction from whence he came, adjusting his brown jacket which lay over a cream open collared shirt. You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before, the well fit pants and shirt, the adornment of fine rings across his digits. Eris Vanserra was clearly someone of high standing, and you felt stupid for not knowing. The disappointment felt foreign to you.
The male looked back at you expectantly, his well kept fiery red hair tousling over his forehead, freckles visible as the sunlight hit his face. “Thank you,” you followed his steps, Duke trotting alongside you like a personal guard.
Once you had made it back to Fir Manor, Eris’ private residence that was home to him and his hounds alone, he insisted that you bathe, that it would be easier for the healer to assess the damage if she could tell what was or wasn’t your own blood.
You didn’t need telling twice, you thanked Eris for the spare clothes, a sheer deep red dress, before you slipped into the bathroom and peeled off your second skin, paying no mind to the marks that littered your forearms and torso, the marks that covered every inch of your body.
It seemed silly. To be so trusting of someone you’d just met. But something told you that Eris wasn’t a threat to you. Something had allowed you to feel safe with him.
You sighed as the hot water worked to relax your muscles, the rest of the world fading away into blissful nothingness.
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Rhys was happy.
Finally happy.
A mate and a babe. A family. No danger for the first time in what felt like a millennia.
Rhys watched them, watched his Nyx swaddled into Feyre’s chest as she painted, humming some lullaby to the dozing babe. Light poured into the room from the domed glass and he let a content sigh pass through his lips from where he leaned against the doorframe. Relishing in the sight for a moment longer before retreating back to his office and closing the door with a soft click.
He wasn’t sure where the rest of them were, Mor would be returning from the human lands soon, Cassian and Azriel were surely training, Nesta was probably nose deep in another book in the library with Amren at her side, and Elain was tucked away with Lucien somewhere revelling in their newly accepted mating bond.
Everything was as it should be.
The papers on his desk were too chaotic for anyone else to understand but him, he knew where each treaty lay in the stack, where each letter from a concerned citizen sat, when Az’s countless reports waited for his eye.
Though, one thing caught his eye that definitely hadn’t been there before he’d gone to check on his mate and child. A folded up rip of parchment, singed at the edges with an aroma of wet grass gripping to it.
It reeked of Autumn, of Eris.
Rhys wasn’t worried that the heir had contacted him. They were planning for a better Autumn once Beron handed over his title, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear from the eldest Vanserra at all. Scanning the parchment, Rhys felt his interest grow in the words, the vague message that beckoned him to Fir Manor, telling him that someone had dropped into the forest who Rhys may be interested in meeting.
So, the High Lord of the Night Court stalked through the halls, parchment in hand as the clash of swords and jostling laughter flooded his senses. Then he saw them, his two brothers in their training leathers, wide smiles and bruises that would fade within the hour as they jabbed another with playful words.
“Ah, did you call on Rhys to come and save you, Az? How desperate,” Cassian glimmered, his wings rustling and body keeping guard against Azriel’s oncoming attack.
Rhys stepped between them, holding the parchment in the air between his fingers with a smirk on his lips as Azriel to it from him, scanning the words, “With no memory of where she came from?” Azriel questioned, his shadows curling over his shoulders as though they wished to see what held their masters attention whilst he handed the written words to Cassian who pouted about being left out.
“Do you remember the visitor we had not too long ago?”
Azriel smirked at the memory of the redhead scouring through the caves of Prythian, “Bryce?”
“Yes, Bryce.” Rhys sent a glare to Cassian, no doubt still unhappy at his mates willingness to aid the girl, “She too fell into our world out of nowhere, didn’t she?”
Cassian stopped the thought before it could be shared, “Yes, but Bryce knew who she was and why she came here. It seems this woman doesn’t share that similarity,” he turned the paper over in his hand, like some newfound information was going to be inscribed elsewhere.
From the brief information that Eris had sent to Rhys, the woman who had fell into the Autumn had no idea who she was or where she was let alone how she found herself bleeding in a different world from her own.
“Regardless,” Rhys’ eyes glowed at the hidden message Cassian had tried to convey, that maybe this woman had nothing to do with Bryce and whatever war she was fighting on her shores. Though Cassian did have to admit that it was a coincidence that another soul had floated through into their world. “It needs to be investigated. Azriel, you’ll come with me. Cassian, you’ll stay here.”
The pair knew better than to convince Rhys otherwise, Azriel especially knew better than to refuse and potentially put his home and people in danger.
Another invader had dove into his world, his home, and he’d be damned by the Mother if he let another one trick him again.
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Authors Note
Hi my loves!
It’s been a while. I know I’m usually a Bridgerton girly but I’m kinda obsessed with everything SJM right now.
So, here we are. My first Maasverse fic 🤷‍♀️
I am wanting to write a series on this so let me know what you think! I’ve been out of the game for a bit 🤍
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shotosjupiter · 2 months
Text
I BLINKED AND SUDDENLY I HAD A VALENTINE!
𖤐 sypnosis... you ask them to be your valentine <3
࣪𖤐 note... super fluffy! and al haitham being a little shit
𖤐 ft. tighnari, al-haitham, ningguang, kazuha, and ayato
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𖤐 TIGHNARI blinks at you as you stood in front of him, holding out pink and orange tulips. you had researched them, of course, ensuring they represented love. he cocks his head to the side, as you exclaim, a broad grin stretching on your face, “be my valentine, nari?”
he nods slowly, but surely. despite his quieter reaction, you can tell from the subtle twitching of his ear and the slow pink blush creeping up to his cheeks that he’s pleased. tighnari clears his throat and offers you a bouquet that was tucked behind him, waiting for your arrival. he grasps your hand, gently but clearly asking, “and would you be mine?”
“yes! yes, i would love to be, nari.” you lean forward and press a kiss to his (turning) red cheeks.
𖤐 AL-HAITHAM raises an eyebrow at you. “i thought we were already each other’s valentines.” it sounds more like a statement than a question.
you make a face back at him, “no dummy, you have to ask. that’s how valentines work! what if i already had a valentine?”
“… but you don’t.” he responds, deadpanned.
you gape at him and his pure audacity. “i could! i could- i could be going on a valentines date with that guy right over there!” you gesture towards the general area of microbiology shelves where there’s a few scruffy students, busying themselves.
al-haitham glances back at the scholars, and turns back to you. he huffs out a sigh and turns back to his book, annotating something in the side pages as if this conversation wasn’t something he could be bothered with.
then, a note with a doodle of the two of you and a question: will you be my valentine? check one: yes or yes.
you grin, scrambling to write an answer back.
𖤐 NINGGUANG has already planned everything out since new years. she takes valentines seriously and is not to be played around with in such matters. she had committed your work schedule to memory and had taken the day off to dedicate herself to this mission.
she left a trail of rose petals going from your hallway all way to your shared bedroom. there laid the same petals, shaped into a heart. she had cooked your favorite meal, with the dining table set with even more flowers and your favorite drink. lastly, was a small gift of matching charm bracelets that laid upon the table, waiting for your arrival.
when you had arrived, you had rushed to her side after seeing all the decorations and effort put into this. you cupped her face into a searing kiss and then left a series of kisses all over face. ningguang giggled, pleased to see your happy reaction to her proposal. you grinned at her shyly and offered her her own set of flowers and a small cor lapis necklace you had gotten specifically made for her, asking if she would also do the honor of being your valentine. (spoiler: she said yes.)
𖤐 KAZUHA was a man who had to face a hard decision. which poem should he present you with to ask to be your valentine? there were simply too many choices, too many words, and yet, still nothing had the correct wording he had wanted. what was he to do?
it was one of the few days before valentine’s day where he was sitting by his desk, pushing his brain to find the perfect words to present you, when you came and sat right next to him. you grinned at him slyly, “i have something to show you,” and slid a decorated piece of paper towards him.
it was a poem. a beautiful poem asking him to be your valentine. kazuha looked up at you and smiled with laughter and gentleness in his eyes. “you had beat me to it - but yes. i would love to be your valentine, dove.”
𖤐 AYATO is similar to ningguang in which he had a plan prepared in the back of his head for a couple of weeks now. he had bought a necklace with the charm in the center being a sapphire surrounded by silver. the problem was trying to figure out when to present it to you and ask.
luckily, you managed to unknowingly offer him a solution when you asked him if he would like to take a walk with you around the estate. he nodded calmly, while internally his heart soared at the opportunity. the jewelry box was sat in his pocket always, waiting for the opportunity. now he just had to speak the words.
as the two of you walked, the sakura bloom petals billowing around you, creating an evermore romantic environment. you were chattering about the latest house gossip thoma had told you when ayato stopped and grasped your hand and turned you around pulling you into the net of his arms.
he stared at you for a moment as you fixed him with a questioning gaze in response to his behavior. he cleared his throat and showed you the sapphire necklace he had gotten before gesturing, “may i?”
you nodded and turned as you felt his cold hands delicately clasp the necklace on. the brush of his hands elicited goosebumps to raise by your neck before you heard the raspy whisper, “would you- will you be valentine, darling?”
you turned, a pleased smile on your face before leaning into kiss him slowly. you cupped his face gently, letting his soft lips come together with yours. you broke away from him for a split second to whisper back, “of course i will.”
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comatosebunny09 · 10 months
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kindle [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.
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genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au
warning(s): language, pining, terms of endearment (doll, sweetheart)
part 2 to this. hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading! ❤️
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It’s a date. Or at least, you assume it is. 
Given the way Leon had sauntered up to your desk, all smirking and sheepish, it was only fair to surmise he had asked you out on one. 
Took him long enough.
He came to you through the dull murmur of the office. When the sun crept towards the horizon, bathing your cubicle in an ethereal orange. You were elbow deep in SIR reports, gnawing on the cap of your pen. Irritation rested between your brows. If you glared any harder, the information sprawled before you would surely combust.
Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Dodging chainsaws, claws, and teeth seemed more appealing. You’d gladly take the cool steel of a beretta biting into your palm over that of a ballpoint. 
Thick, work-worn fingers splayed on your desk, drawing your attention northward. You couldn’t help the slight quirk of your lips. Couldn’t parry that pleasant, fluttery feeling in your gut at the sight of him—your partner, that is. 
Leon’s hair was ruffled with errant strands sticking this way and that. Irises glimmered like sea glass, dancing over your features with boyish fascination. His smile was dimpled, and crow’s feet hung to the corners of his eyes. Dark stubble dappled his chin. His tie was loosened around his neck, while his dress shirt lay slightly untucked and wrinkled. It seemed the day had been as kind to him as it was to you.   
You found yourself resting your cheek in your palm as warmth flooded your innards. Fell under his spell, submerged beneath its shadowy depths, unable to resurface. Not that you wanted to. He held your heart in a vice. You cautioned a “Sup?” wincing at how your voice crackled. How you sounded prepubescent, and you cleared your throat to ward off your nerves.
Leon’s replying chuckle was like velveteen. You felt it in your stomach. Felt it play up your spine like a xylophone. You always found his voice endearing, the low gravel of it sticky and dulcet to your ears. 
As if magnetically drawn to them, you watched his lips, soft and rose-petal red, form around words. Your own tingled as you recalled kissing that very mouth a few nights ago. Committed their texture to memory, quelling the urge to touch your lips. Leon’s Adam’s apple bobbed and the tendons in his neck flexed. You instinctively swallowed, readjusting yourself in your chair.
“Not much,” Leon said, shifting his weight onto one foot. Still propped up on your desk in an easy slouch, swaddling you in the aroma of gun oil and teakwood. Of course, his sleeves were cuffed, baring his sinewy forearms. How badly you wanted to touch them. Drag your fingertips down the forked veins beneath, conjuring the prettiest sounds from his throat. “Just checkin’ on my favorite partner.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m your only partner, dickhead.”
“I dunno,” he taunted, standing tall with folded arms. From this angle, it was easy to make out the power of his body. His clothes did little to disguise it. Your throat grew dry, and your voice caught in the bowels of your chest. “Marie over in HR is gunnin’ for your spot.” 
It always surprised you how quickly you could move. How swiftly you could retrieve your stapler and chuck it at him. Leon snorted as he ducked, the damned thing striking a far-off window. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, a youthful crinkle to his eye. 
“Relax, doll. I’m just messin’.” 
You countered with a hmph, clearly over his shit.  
Leon replaced his palms on your desk once the dust settled. Broke the heavy silence by asking, “How’s the admin stuff comin’?” Feigning interest in the documents littering your cubicle, he retrieved a packet, skimming through it with disinterest. Like he wasn’t using you to procrastinate, a pile of pristine, white paper leering at you through his office window. 
With a weighted sigh, you answered, “It’s coming.” A quiet snicker garnered another eye-roll. “Oh, grow the hell up, Kennedy.” 
“Never. You like me like this.”
You cut your eyes at him mid-scribble. Sat your pen down with a definitive clack. These childish games you played made you feel giddy. Like two grade-schoolers in the sandbox, clearly taken by each other. Alright. You’d bite. 
“Says who?” 
It was as if you initiated a challenge. As if you’d stuck out your tongue and said make me. Leon took the bait, inching towards you, huffing out a chuckle. He crept over your desk with the finesse of a jaguar quietly stalking through the bush. Poured himself into your personal bubble, the heat of his body rolling off him in waves, staining your neck, a shiver sifting through your bones. His breath was hot against the shell of your ear. Dizzying as he deliberately exhaled against your skin.
His timbre was dark with mischief as he finally crooned, “Says that dumb little look on your face, sweetheart.”
You’d never punched him harder. 
Leon drew back, gulping down air between a peal of laughter. It became customary for him to torment you like that. To play on the attraction swimming between you, dismantling your resolve and leaking through the fissures of your heart. When the moment became too serious, he often sprinkled in a quip or two to keep you at arm’s length. It was frustrating. How he could act so cool despite the noticeable change in your relationship. 
“What do you even want, Kennedy? I’ve got shit to do,” you sighed, exasperation wading in your tone. Your forehead collided against the cherrywood with a soft thunk. A migraine bloomed on the horizon. Leon’s teasing only served to exacerbate it.
His tone was muffled. Hesitant, rivaled by the idle chatter of your coworkers. “Well, if you must know, I … wanted to see if you had dinner plans?” 
Magma filled your belly. Your eyes shot to him, a sheet of paper comically glued to your forehead. You were acutely aware of yourself, sitting up straighter, smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, fretting over your hair. “Dinner? Uh, m-me? N-no. Well—”
“Cool. Now you do have plans. Seven sound good?” 
Your expression was awestruck. Well, now, this was certainly a new development. You blinked away your confusion, nodding dumbly. Caught a glimpse of a smirk canting Leon’s lips before he stepped out. Before he tapped your desk with finality, maneuvering out of your office space. 
“Wait! Wait, is … is this a date?” you called to his retreating back.
“Take it however you want,” Leon supplied, a hand raised in farewell. 
You sank into your chair once he disappeared within the maze of cubicle walls. Left at the mercy of your thundering heart and flaring nerves. The goofiest of grins lay claim to your countenance. You felt reinvigorated, taking up your pen. Scrawled away like an enamored fool, scanning through the catalog of your mind for what you would wear.             
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<< part 1
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jade-jini · 4 months
Note
HI been thinking abt g!p loser yunjin getting emotional during sex 😭 can i request a somno one where she comes home drunk late at night, looking for reader only to see her asleep on their bed! yunny getting hard at the sight and emotional as she remembers their argument, she couldn’t help herself but touch her gf, soft “sorry’s” and “don’t leave me” leaving her mouth as she fucks reader 😖
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TW: somno, angst, happy ending ig. Dubcon. Dacryphilia. Yunjin is insecure.
Can I give you g!p loser somno Yunjin? Yes. Is it from the same storyline as the previous posts? Hell no. That baby would never. That one is fluffy fluffy this is a completely different one ok? Ok 🤨. After clarifying that…😈
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“Hey, a*hic*nother one, please…” Yunjin said, raising her empty glass, her vision not good enough to catch where the bartender actually was. The guy sighed as he dried a washed glass with a towel.
“Listen kid, we’re already closed. Why don’t you go home already?”
“Home?” Yunjin asked unconsciously, the memories of that day hitting once again.
——————————Flashback—————————
You guys were supposed to get home together after a long day. Yunjin was gonna pick you up after your last class of the day, the orange sky and sunlight hitting against her own hair as she waited for you. She had a nice flower in hand, excited to give it to you. Softly placing it near her nose to smell it one more time, she made herself blushed thinking about your smile once she saw you. However, you were not alone. Her smile dropped right away as she left the flower fall somewhere.
There you were, standing with a friend she very well recognized. It was this one girl from the women soccer team of the university. Yunjin knew her name, everybody knew her name. But she never liked using it, making it clear she did not like this person at all.
“She seems to like you a lot…” she murmured after the first time she saw you talking to Yeji.
“I like her too, she’s a good friend, and she’s friends with Yeojin already so it’s cool” you explained, apparently not getting the message right away.
“Hmmmm, not what I meant but whatever..” she said as her pout got bigger, letting go of your hand and crossing her arms in front of her chest. That’s when you finally noticed.
“Huh Yunjin, are you jealous?” You asked, trying to stop a giggle.
“Maybe? I mean she’s athletic and popular, and you’re so pretty, baby. Who wouldn’t want you? I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you decide you want to give her or somebody else a chance…”
“Omg shut up, that could never happen. I love you. You, Yunjin.” You told her, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. You didn’t have eyes for nobody else but Yunjin, so you didn’t wanna hear none of that nonsense.
“Yeah but still…” she murmured, and you simply sighed and continued walking hand in hand, trying to be extra sweet and clingy to your girl to distract her from those thoughts.
You thought it was cute the first couple times, but then her attitude started becoming more serious every time. It wasn’t your cute girlfriend being a little jealous and protective. It was like a completely different person taking over your sweet girl. You guys have already had more arguments about this situation. They were never too bad.
Until today.
“Oh, hi baby!” You greeted your girlfriend once she met you guys, smiling at her like you did every time, with love and excitement like it was the first time you saw her.
“Hi, Yunjinie.” Yeji tried, as always, to be on the good side of the taller girl. Yunjin just looked at her, nodding at her and humming. She looked back at you.
“Ready to go? Maybe we can go get something to eat at your favorite restaurant before getting home.” She asked while smiling at you only, not wanting to acknowledge the other girl’s presence more than necessary.
“Oh nice! Wanna join us before going home, Yeji?” You asked your friend, knowing she lived very close to your building. Yunjin’s smile left again, rolling her eyes.
“Oh! Actually-”
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be today?” Yunjin murmured, a bored tone that she didn’t try to hide. In her mind, this was the least rude she could be towards Yeji.
“Huh Yunjin…” you warned her, a challenging tone growing in your throat and your eyes telling you weren’t gonna tolerate that.
“It’s ok, y/n.” Yeji said with an awkward laugh, trying to avoid yet another conflict. Unfortunately, she has been present before when your girlfriend showed clearly discomfort with her presence near you. “I can’t go anyways, Lia’s class must be almost done, and we have a date today so…” she commented, a slight blush appearing on the girl’s face. “Anyways, see you later.” The older girl said with a smile, waving her hand as she walked away quickly to go pick up her own girlfriend. You smiled and waved back at her, and once you turned back at Yunjin, her face was still showing she was upset. You shook your head, starting to walk. She followed you behind.
“What, you’re gonna leave me here now?” She asked as you didn’t give her a chance to walk beside you. You rolled your eyes.
“What the fuck, Yunjin?” You asked her as you slowed down a bit so she could catch up. “I’m tired of you being rude to every friend I have. First it was Chaeyoung and Yeojin and now-”
“Yeojin wouldn’t stop touching you! Am I supposed to be ok with that?!” She interrupted you, her voice getting a little louder and shaky.
“And now!” You interrupted her back, making her go quiet. “She barely looks me in the eye when you’re present ‘cause she knows you get easily jealous.” Yunjin scratched the back of her neck as she opened the car’s door for you. Once she got in the driver’s seat, she spoke again. Her voice changing to a sadder one.
“I’m just scared of losing you, y/n. You know that…” she said, as she started driving. You looked at her, examining her face. You could tell she was in distress about this. However, being insecure didn’t give her the right to treat your friends bad. You stayed quiet for a little while as she drove. Once you were walking to your apartment, you spoke again.
“I’ve told you Yeji has a girlfriend, yet you’re still treating her like this.” You heard her huff.
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Excuse me?” You looked at her with a frown, clearly offended.
“If she had a girlfriend she wouldn’t be stuck to your side all the fucking time.” Yunjin said, her voice getting deeper than normal. She was very upset, but so were you.
“Because she’s my friend, Yunjin! Friends spend time together! Why can’t you understand the concept of that?” You told her in the same tone, seriously tired of the constant fighting about such an insignificant thing as you hanging out with your friends.
“I don’t spend all the time stuck to my friends.” she remarked once you opened the door.
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t be making these scenes because I actually trust you. Do you even trust me?”
“It has nothing to do with that-”
“Do you even trust me, Huh Yunjin?!” You asked her again in a louder tone. You were not gonna let her evade this question. Yunjin didn’t like your tone nor the accusations. So instead of processing what she actually felt, she acted impulsively.
“No! I don’t trust you nor your fucking flirty friends! I’m tired of all this!” She yelled, her breathing becoming irregular.
You went quiet, feeling your heart hurt. The girl you loved didn’t trust you. You’ve done everything in your power to show her she’s your one and only. That nobody else comes even close to her in your heart. Yet her insecurities were hurting you both.
“Then go.” You said after you swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes already getting watery.
“What…” she whispered, starting to panic as she felt her heart sink.
“Trust is the most important thing in a relationship, with honesty. If we don’t have that, we don’t have nothing.”
“Oh my god I am so sorry, y/n… I didn’t mean to say any of that.” She tried apologizing, the weight of her words hitting her. Hard. She fucked up.
“If you don’t even trust me, then why haven’t you left?” You asked her, feeling that even speaking was hard at the moment.
“I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. Please give me another chance, baby. Please.” Your girlfriend said, trying to hold your hands but you put them close to you avoiding this, such action breaking her heart a little more ‘cause you’ve never rejected her touch before.
“I’ve been patient and understanding but your jealousy just keeps getting worse. I need some time right now…”
“No! Please don’t.. please baby, don’t say that…” tears were threatening to come out already, her hands trembling at the idea of losing you.
“At least for tonight. I need to think about us, please go Yunjin.” You almost begged, voice getting softer due to the sadness taking over the anger now.
“y/n, please…”
“Just leave, Yunjin. I need some space today, please.” You said, not even looking at her. You couldn’t, because if you did you would ask her to stay and you actually needed some alone time to calm down. You heard her hesitate, but nevertheless her steps resonated in the now empty room.
————————End of flashback————————
“My home doesn’t want me at home…” Yunjin said as she began sobbing again. The bartender, weirded out, tried comforting her after calling a taxi for the young woman.
“Listen dude, I don’t know who hurt you, but you gotta go home. There’s a taxi outside ok? Just tell them where to go and I don’t know, get some makeup sex or something.”
“Makeup sex? Hmm..” the idea of it already causing an effect on her intoxicated mind. She quietly went home, with only the image of you in her thoughts, feeling her friend reacting to it.
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“y/n? Baby are you h*hic*ome?” Yunjin asked once she stepped foot on the living room of your apartment, clumsily looking for you. “I-I’m sorry baby… please I l*hic*love you. Let me show you I love you.”
When she didn’t get a response, she made her way to your shared room. Her messy hair in front of her eyes making it a little extra complicated for her to see where she was going, but she wasn’t that messed up yet. Once she got to the bedroom, she found you deep in your sleep, looking beautiful as ever. She always thought you looked cute when sleeping, but tonight when she noticed how you were using nothing but her big shirt, the blanket barely covering your naked legs, cute wasn’t the word she’d use to describe you.
“God you’re so sexy, so perfect… I could never lose you…” she said as she got closer to the bed, falling sat next to you. The new weight made you move a bit, but it didn’t wake you up. “Please w-wake up, darling. I need you…” she whispered as she fixed her member, that was already getting hard by the view in front of her. Her other hand traveled to your thigh, caressing the skin as she slowly made her way to your ass. With the shirt going up a bit, she could see that you really were using nothing but her shirt.
“You knew I was c*hic*oming, Hmm?” She hummed, getting rid of her jacket and unbuttoning her pants to get her hand inside them, touching herself on top of her boxers. Soft groans escaping Yunjin’s lips as she felt her member getting harder and harder. She couldn’t help but put your shirt a little higher, leaving kisses on your stomach. Her lips slowly going up until she was kissing your chest, going from one nipple to the other. She was straight up moaning against your chest as she slowly sucked on them. With her dick already out of her pants, she needed to have you. She needed to prove to you she loved you always. As she made her way between your legs, she slowly started stroking her cock, licking her own lips before starting to eat you out. Yunjin could feel you softly moving under her, but you were a heavy sleeper. “So good.. tastes so good, baby.” She said as she made out with your pussy in such a messy but sensual way. The little whimpers coming from her as she stimulated both of you, and the little groans you’d let out in your sleep, were the only sounds Yunjin’s ears could catch. “P-please don’t leave.. if you do.. You’d break my heart..” the taller girl said, kissing your thighs, the idea of you actually leaving being an option got her sad again. As her eyes got watery, she fixed herself better between your legs, her member against your now very wet cunt, making sure to get herself wet too so she doesn’t hurt you. More soft sounds were coming from you, similar to the ones you do when awake. Yunjin’s clouded mind was thinking that maybe, if your body was reacting to her like this even when asleep, then you didn’t really want to leave. “Oh fuck…” she moaned as she slowly entered you. “Please don’t leave, I’m gonna miss this pussy too much…”
She started thrusting inside you slowly, sighing as your tight pussy grabbed around her so good every single time. She loved how well your bodies understood each other, and the thought of it being like this even when you’re not awake got her dick twisting inside you. This didn’t stop her from being sad though, knowing that after your argument that day, you probably wouldn’t have accepted this so easily.
“Please…” Yunjin whispered, her voice breaking in between pleads, tears threatening to fall “please d-don’t leave me.. I can be better than them.. p-promise..” she sobbed, the warmth of your body bringing both comfort and sadness, scared the next morning you’d be gone.
“What.. what the.. fuck? Hmmm.. Jen?” You murmured as her rougher actions slowly started to wake you up “w-what are you-”
“Please l-let me do it, if you’re gonna leave..” she said in between sobs “let me have you one last t*hic*ime..”
“W-who said I- fuck~ was gonna leave, baby?” You asked her, confused in between moans. Your hands automatically hugged her shoulders as you felt her cock reaching those spots inside you only Yunjin could ever get to know.
“I r-ruined it.. but please don’t go. I’m s-sorry, y/n. I love you…” she said, her moves now a little softer and slower. However you weren’t angry at her, how could you when she felt so good deep inside you, and her tears making her look so cute and pathetic, turning you on so much for some reason. You didn’t care to understand it though, your mind also getting clouded by desire for her.
“So cute when you cry. Do you feel sorry, baby?” You asked her, grabbing her face. She nodded eagerly, tears running down her face. “Why.. why are you sorry, tell me.”
“Hmmgh y/n.. I’m sorry for b-being mean, and jealous…” she dragged her words, but you were able to make out what she was saying. “S-sorry for not asking for permission first…” her sobs became more intense, but so did her thrusts inside you and you weren’t sure if her tears were more sadness or pleasure, probably a mix of both. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry y/n.. Hmm please…”
“Shhh, keep going baby, don’t you dare stop.” You threatened her, her teary eyes making your pussy clench around her cock, making your girlfriend moan loudly “such a fucking good cock, feels so good…”
“Hmmm fuck… you feel so good too, wanna be inside you forever…” she said as she pounded your pussy so good. Even when drunk, she knew what your face was saying, knowing she was hitting you in a spot you really like, getting you closer. “Like this, baby? D-does my cock feel good here?”
“So good… don’t you fucking stop.. Hmm fuck, baby!” You came intensely as her name kept coming from your mouth again and again, music for her ears. The sensation also making her moan, feeling herself too close.
“y/n, I’m gonna come…” she warned you, but you weren’t done with her punishment. You turned you guys around, holding her wrists against the mattress and riding her “oh god…” she moaned as she bit her lip. When you felt her dick inside you twisting, meaning her orgasm was just seconds away, you quickly got off her, ruining her orgasm as she finished untouched “Ahh! F-fuck.. nooo.. fuck!” She whimpered and cried as her cum ended on her thighs and some on her abs. “Why… that hurt, y/n..” she complained, hissing a bit when a cold wet towel made contact with her skin to clean her.
“That’s what you get for being a bad girl.” You told her, receiving a groan for her. When you turned around to see her, her eyes were still full of tears, a pout on her face. You simply laughed before holding her closer to you. “Don’t worry baby, tomorrow when you’re sober I’ll make sure to take care of you good.”
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kaleldobrev · 4 months
Text
Never the Favorite
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Platonic Pairing: Sam Winchester & F. Reader
Summary: You finally try and set the record straight
Word Count: 844
Warnings: Cursing (1x)
Authors Note: Takes place during season one | Something that always got me, is whenever Sam said something along the lines of Dean being the favorite child. Like Sam, he wasn’t and it was pretty clear so that’s what I based this fic on | Let me know if you like the new way I have formatted | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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It was another classic Sam and Dean argument — Sam telling Dean how he was never the favorite child growing up and how Dean actually was; and how much of a black sheep of the family Sam had felt because he didn't want to go into the family business. It was an argument and a sentiment that you were so used to hearing at this point that you could pretty much recite word for word their replies. The boys were starting to sound like broken records, and you and Dean had only picked up Sam from Stanford a few months ago.
You didn't want to get involved in their argument as you felt like it wasn't really your place, but there was a part of you that started to get annoyed with Sam, because you knew that Dean was never the favorite — Sam always was. You knew how hard Dean had tried over the years to try and get his father's approval, but it was approval that he would never be able to get, no matter how hard he tried. It killed you inside, because you loved Dean for who he truly was, not who he was pretending to be.
But because you had heard this argument so many times, you had told yourself that you were finally going to say something to Sam; to try and stop this argument once and for all.
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Parking Baby and cutting the engine, Dean pulled out his wallet from the glove compartment, pulling out a crumpled up 20 that he won from a poker game a few nights ago. “Gonna grab some snacks. Either of you want anything?” He asked before turning to you. “Want your usual chocolate anything?”
You gave him a small smile. “Yes please. And orange soda if they have it.”
“Getting you the bottle this time. ‘Cause I don’t want another spilling incident like last time with the can,” he said, giving you a wink. “How about you?” He asked, turning to Sam.
“I’m good thanks,” Sam nodded, before pulling out his phone and promptly started checking his e-mail.
“Alrighty,” Dean said, getting out of the car. “Be back in ten.”
As soon as Dean was out of eyeshot and earshot, you sat up closer to the passenger side where Sam was, placing a hand on the back of the seat. “Hey, I know he’s your brother and the whole point of brothers is basically being assholes to each other but, I really need you to lay off the whole Dean being the favorite stuff.”
Sam turned to you, placing his phone in his lap; the look he gave you was of pure confusion. “But he is the favorite. Always has, always will be. I know you probably wouldn’t know that consider —”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you began, slight attitude in your voice. “I’ve been hunting with Dean and your father for about a year now, and let me tell you, I didn’t need to be around for your childhoods to know that you were and are still the very clear favorite.”
“Me? The favorite?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
You rolled your eyes. “Did it ever occur to you why he’s so similar to your dad? Why he barely shows any of his actual interests around anyone but me? Dean wears his jacket, listens to the same music, says the same phrases.”
“But…that’s how Dean always has been," Sam stated. For as long as he could remember, that's always how he remembered Dean, being so similar to their father. Memories flashed before him, recalling numerous times where him and his father sang along to Zeppelin during one of their many insanely long car rides to Pastor Jim's, or how Dean would refuse to go anywhere without their father's leather jacket.
"You really know nothing about your brother do you?" You asked him, slight sadness and hurt entering your voice. You hadn't known for very long, but you had known him long enough for him to start letting you in and getting to know the real him, and not the facade he let everyone else believe. "The only reason Dean acts like your father is because in his mind, if he acts like him he'll get the approval he always wanted that you never had to try and get." You felt your blood start to boil. "So please stop with the fucking favorite argument okay? I'm sick and tired of it."
Sam was silent for a moment, as he's never seen you this angry before nor has he ever seen you this defensive of anyone. As much as he wanted to disagree with you, he knew that he couldn't because he clearly didn't know Dean the way that you did. He might of spent 18 years of his life on the road with him, but he didn't actually know him. "Okay," he finally said, slightly sighing.
"Just...don't tell Dean I said any of this to you okay?" You asked him, slightly patting his shoulder.
"Of course," he said, slightly smiling.
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ferrstappen · 1 year
Text
happy mother's day, sorry for the mess l Max Verstappen blurb
a/n: Charles' version will be posted shortly <3
pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader
you can read more of dad Max and the twins here <3
summary: Mila and Luca Verstappen go rogue during Mother's Day, ignoring Max's plan.
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Max sighed after putting Mila and Luca to sleep, both too excited to celebrate their mum in just a few hours, after spending weeks planning and buying gifts for you.
The living room was neatly decorated with yellow and purple balloons, the twins' favorite colors. Max had multiple red and white roses delivered. Of course that wasn't enough, the three of them had gone shopping for gifts, Max not caring about it being too much and the twins not having to think whether it was or wasn't expensive; whatever reminded them of you, it was bought.
Max knew you didn't really care about the Dior handbag, a long parka from Moncler, maybe you'd like the Cartier bracelet, but only because it was engraved with Mila, Luca and Max's name and date, but they could've had a cheap fake gold bracelet from Aliexpress and you would've loved it just the same because it had their names on it.
You'd also love the assortment of chocolates that would' probably be gone by today's afternoon. It was a situation Max knew too well ever since you started dating. Max was taught by his mother and sister that classics were classics for a reason, never failing to gift you a large box of chocolates on Valentine's Day.
He remembers vividly your first Valentine's, enjoying quiet time on his apartment not really bothering to go outside, wanting to kiss and touch as much as you wanted in the early stages of the relationship, not having to care about people taking pictures, fans approaching Max for a conversation or autograph, the only thing both of you needed was being next to each other. His memory is clear when picturing you wearing one of his shirts after he left the bathroom, the box of chocolates lying next to you and he opened it, suddenly craving a dulce de leche filled chocolate.
It was empty.
Max was surprised that you were able to eat the entire box during the day, but then he learned it was a common occurrence, but he still pretended to get surprised whenever the box didn't survive past midnight.
Maybe he was dreaming, the early stages of your relationship always brought a smile to his face and was the stuff of his dreams all these years later, but he was aware of his surroundings now. This wasn't his old apartment that he after shared with you, this was the penthouse you got after getting married.
And whatever was coming from the kitchen, wasn't your doing since your warm body was perfectly curved against Max; your back pressed against his back, bottom moving against him as you tried to get comfortable after he moved, Max's hand resting dangerously low on your stomach and legs intertwined.
This was one of the few times he rolled his eyes at Mila and Luca, already knowing they were up to something, absolutely not in their room. He was hoping he would get the chance to celebrate and cherish you before the kids had the chance to interrumpt.
Oh well.
Rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet Max followed the shushed voices, English and Dutch mixing as Mila reprimanded her twin for bringing jam instead of Nutella, but Luca responded 'mama prefers jam in the morning, Mila'.
Max crossed his arms, this not being the first time the twins decided to get started with breakfast. They didn't care that Max tirelessly reminded them that he would wake them up and prepare breakfast for you.
"What happened with the plan?" Max asked and noticed how the twins stopped their movements, carefully and slowly turning around to face their dad. "M, any reason why there's a puddle of orange juice right next to you? Lu, do you know why all those tea leaves are scattered on the sink?"
To make matters worse, a panicked Luca dropped the glass he was carrying, the sound booming around the penthouse.
Max asked his son if he was okay at the same time Mila told her brother he was an idiot.
they all failed to hear the hurried steps coming towards the kitchen. Your eyes were met with your barefoot husband tiptoeing around the glass as he told the kids to not come near.
"What happened?" You asked and this time, it wasn't just the twins who ceased their movements and slowly turned their backs to you. this time they were joined by Max.
Silence filled the room as you were still waiting for an answer for the small mess on the kitchen.
The three Verstappen clones looked at each other, mentally planning on what to say next.
"Happy mother's day!"
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Text
— old dog, new tricks
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!werewolf!reader
warnings: smut, lesbian sex, slight petplay, deragadation, topping from the bottom, strapon referred to as cock, wednesday is STILL a sadist, all characters are aged-up
summary: the control wednesday has over you is frustrating. you're put back in your place the second you try to rebel
word count: 2.5k
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“So yeah, since the Furs are gonna be the ones hosting the party, every wolf gets to bring a plus one. There’d be enough of us as it is, we should keep it low. The last time they held a gathering, it ended up... badly,” Enid refrains from going into details, which most likely involved a lot of destroyed furniture and saliva, clearing her throat as she slurps on her orange juice, leaning forward in her seat to gauge your reaction, “It’s free alcohol though! Courtesy of the Scales, so we have to let them in, too.”
Wednesday is sitting next to you, her hands clasped together on her knees, the plate in front of her already clean by the end of the lunch break. Her face is unreadable – but you grin, the thought of having drinks in a nice company of fellow werewolves providing a surge of enthusiasm to finish the school day.
“Sure– “
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to join you, Enid. (Y/n) and I have business for tonight.”
The toothpick you clench in your mouth almost snaps in half.
Enid raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of you, but nods, seeming to take Wednesday’s words as final. It vexes you even further.
The ravenette doesn’t let you say another word. She dabs at her lips with a tissue, caringly grabs both of your trays and walks off. The werewolf’s sky-blue eyes meet yours – she looks like she wants to say something, but the irk in your gaze serves as a good enough warning, and she keeps her mouth shut.
A sigh mixed with an exasperated groan leaves your mouth, and you get up to follow your girlfriend, now staring holes into the back of her head instead.
Recess is over, and with it goes your faux relaxed attitude – you sit with your arms crossed, your knee jumping in an annoyed tick as you stare unblinking at your biology book, almost burning through the paper with your glare. Ajax, who’s unfortunate enough to have to share a desk with you, cowers at the angry aura you induce, the snakes of his hair peeking from under his beanie cautiously.
When your last period ends, you pack your bag hastily and throw it over your shoulder before all but storming out of the class. As you walk through the corridor, you notice Xavier out of the corner of your eye, the brunet artist falling in step with you. When he absentmindedly asks if you’re coming to the party tonight, it takes you all of your willpower not to punch him in the jaw.
The door is slammed behind you as you enter your dorm, your nostrils flaring.
You’re mad. And now that the party is totally out of the question, you need a different way to let out steam.
You don’t waste your time undressing yourself, opting to change for something easy to dispose of and claw into, before you reach for the nightstand, opening the bottom drawer.
The toy inside holds a lot of rather pleasant memories – of Wednesday bending you over the balcony railing, of her driving her hips into you as you all but begged her to fuck you right on the floor of your dorm.
Well. Werewolf heats are known for their feverous intensity. Howling isn’t the only reason one should wear muffled headphones with wolves around.
You grab the silicone toy, quickly tightening the straps around your waist, which surprisingly comes rather natural and makes you wonder why the hell you haven’t thought of doing this before, then tug on a pair of grey sweatpants over the strap-on, glancing at the clock – you still have a few minutes before Wednesday comes back.
You give yourself a once-over in the mirror. The shirt’s neckline is hanging just above your breasts, exposing your collarbones, your hair is disheveled with all the exasperated running your fingers through it you’ve been doing, and the outline of the silicone cock is pretty much visible through your pants. Exactly what you were going for.
The faint sound of footsteps reaches your sensitive ears, and it’s a pattern you recognize easily by now – you step away from the mirror to sit back on the bed just in time with the door creaking open.
“Business?” You mutter instead of a greeting. “I didn’t know we had plans.”
Wednesday freezes in the doorway, eyeing you. Her gaze drops to your pants, and a small, barely noticeable smirk makes its way to her pretty plump lips before its gone like it was a mirage.
“Why, don’t you just sound so eager to spend time with your significant other,” the ravenette deadpans sarcastically, walking over to her desk to abandon her backpack there, her lithe fingers working to undo the buttons of her uniform blazer – slowly, deliberately, the same way she drags her words out as she speaks, completely unbothered, “Would you really rather prefer a... frat party with a bunch of uncivilized mutts?”
She turns to look at you, misty eyes shining with a challenging glint.
“Addictions run in the family. Along with my last name I happen to bear a habit of drinking my stress away,” the mattress creaks in protest as you get up, step closer to Wednesday so that you’re towering over her smaller frame, “That, and valuing my freedom and independency.”
Wednesday doesn’t look intimidated in the least. She looks up at you, her eyebrows raised slightly, “But I can’t really help it. You’ve always been like this – so pliant and submissive,” the girl takes her blazer off, draping it over the back of her chair, never breaking eye contact with you, “It’s just so... entertaining to order you around sometimes, knowing you’d follow every single one of my commands.”
You grit your teeth at her words, partially from irritation, partially because they’re true – Wednesday has had you wrapped around her finger from the first day you met her, and it was a given you’d be so smitten to submit to her every whim. The ravenette’s influence on you is omnipotent.
And now, you’re not sure where it’s coming from, but there’s hot, rebellious fire burning in your chest, and the young woman in front of you is the spark responsible.
“I’m not a dog.”
“Oh? Is my perception wrong, then?”
Wednesday steps closer, her chin raised slightly, and before you know it you’re backing down to your shared bed, the backs of your knees hitting the wooden frame.
“Am I wrong? You’re not my pet, then?” She asks again, “Can you prove it? Can you make me shut up and take it?”
Suddenly you remember what your original plan was supposed to be. You mentally facepalm yourself – Wednesday’s been in the room for less than five minutes, yet you already feel the remains of your pride and resolve crumbling apart and proving her right.
Frustrated, your grasp at her hips, your talons coming out at your exasperation, tearing into her skirt, and turn the small girl around, pressing your mouth to hers hotly.
In a few moments you’re a mess of tangled limbs on the bed, Wednesday’s hands sliding towards the waistband of your pants to slide them down, the cool silicone of the toy pressing against her clothed cunt.
You pull back slightly, hovering over her, your claws catching at the lace of her panties, and it takes you a minute to tear them away – your hands are practically shaking with anger and anticipation. You don’t bother with the skirt, flipping it away for easy access, and Wednesday parts her thighs gently, your gaze subconsciously trailing down to the supple pale skin of her lower body.
Jesus, you want to bruise it so badly.
But no. Not now.
Focus. Focus.
Your hands grab ahold of the plushy flesh, fingers digging in as you part her legs even further, and Wednesday lets out a small sound at the aggressiveness. You’d grin at the small victory of yours, but it’s not really worthy yet – her expression is still unfazed, and you know you’ll have to try harder than that.
Or maybe not, you think as you suppress a chuckle at how positively drenched Wednesday is – of course, you could smell it before you could see the pretty wetness covering the inside of her thighs, and you’re damn sure she knows it, too, judging by the way her jaw tightens before she speaks.
“Do not gloat, dog. That is not your doing.”
Okay, that. That actually makes an angry vein pop on your forehead, the thought of someone else getting Wednesday hot and bothered and gorgeously dripping like this is akin to bothering a hungry animal during its meal.
You align yourself with the beautifully dripping cunt of the small ravenette, pressing your palms into her thighs to keep her still – fuck it, you have to bruise her – and push the tip against the feverish skin, sinking in slowly. You watch her walls wrap around the toy deliciously, the sight almost making you forget the reason for your fury, and an involuntary sigh escapes your mouth as you’re halfway to being sheathed inside Wednesday – the girl herself is silent, except for the wet sound of her pretty pussy taking your fake cock in. You look up to see her watching you with half-lidded eyes. She looks bored.
Her smirk is almost as taunting as her words.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
An irritated huff escapes your nose, fingers digging deeper into her, and in a single sharp thrust you bottom out, your legs pressing flush against the back of her hips.
Wednesday sighs, finally, eyes fluttering shut as all the air is pushed out of her lungs. You wrap your hands around the bottom of her thighs to pull her in as close as possible, and this time you actually grin as the ravenette has to bite back another choked noise, hanging her head back on the pillow and taking a deep inhale.
Then she opens her eyes, meeting yours again. Irritation paints her face at your smug expression.
“Are you getting cocky now, (Y/n)? It was but a mediocre start,” she tuts. “I thought you were going to show me how good you can make me take it. How strong you are.”
Her manicured hand caresses up your bicep, scratching idly.
“Alas, the only thing that’s giving me pleasure right now is telling you you’re not good enough.”
All the thoughts of being gentle and sweet with Wednesday are slapped out of your mind as soon as her words register in your already pussy-drunk brain. With a nearly animalistic snarl you pull out so that the head is barely visible before driving back in, the silicone sinking between her lips, disappearing in a red-hot embrace as you immediately fall into a swift rhythm. Your abdominal muscles contract violently, screaming at you that the pace is too much. Too fast. Too hard.
But you don’t care. You want Wednesday to scream those things.
The ravenette stretches one of her long shapely legs to rest it on your shoulder, the angle pulling you deeper into her with each thrust. You grunt, turn your face to nibble at her ankle through the stocking, making Wednesday shudder.
“You look... angry.” She observes, her words a bit broken, breath stolen by your merciless pounding into her. “Are you angry with me, puppy?”
You growl in response. Her palms reach to cup your face, a condescending smile on her lips.
“For teasing you? Oh, don’t be angry. It is simply the natural way of things. Whatever you do, you will always belong underneath me. Taking me like a good girl. Pretty puppy always wants to be my good girl, doesn’t she?”
You whine, and Wednesday chuckles, satisfied that her words are causing the effect she desired – you melt despite the fact that you’re the one fucking her into the bed, ruining the mattress with how much of her slick is dripping down between your bodies.
“You’re so lucky that I’m letting you do this,” her voice is breathy, and your attention snaps to the way is sounds rather than the words she speaks, “Look at me and say it— Don’t you dare scowl at me.”
Wednesday scolds your bared canines and your furrowed eyebrows, the hold of her palms turning rough on your chin.
“Say thank you. For my letting you be in my cunt right now.”
Her tone sends an array of shivers down your spine – you feel reminded of where your place is supposed to be. It takes some time for you to finally find your voice, your mouth slightly open as you still your hips for a moment, cock buried in Wednesday’s soft heat.
She watches you expectantly. You lean down to press your nose into her shoulder.
“Th... thank you...” You murmur into her neck shakily, hiding your face in embarrassment.
You’ve lost.
The ravenette hums, wraps her legs around you, a gesture of pity and generosity on her part – she knows how much you love it when she does that, the balls of her stocking-clad feet pressing into your back.
“You’re welcome, puppy. Now get back to work.”
Your pace turns slow, meaningful, and Wednesday seems content with the change, her back arching at a particularly strong and deep thrust of your hips, pretty mouth falling open with a breathy sigh, “Oh, mia grande forte cucciola… Trying so hard to make me feel good…”
Her walls flutter around the shaft, her heavy breathing mixing with the obscene sounds of your skin slapping hers.
“Should I cum on you? Should I let you have it just this once?”
At that you perk up, and if you were wolfed out at that moment, you’re pretty sure your tail would be wagging like crazy as you whine a few pathetic ‘please, please’ into her neck.
“I will. I will, amore. But not because of you fucking me so good… Just because I pity you.”
Wednesday brings you closer to her, your chest flush against hers as she tilts her head back, her pussy turning impossibly tight around your cock, a choked moan leaving her burgundy lips, right into your ear, making goosebumps trickle up your neck. You fuck her through her orgasm obediently, wishing you could feel her throbbing around you.
When Wednesday’s hold on you relaxes, your jaw goes slack around her shoulder, her ruined uniform the last thing on your mind as you try to catch your breath.
She sighs with content, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone.
“Good dog.”
There’s no strength left in you to fight the title, so you accept your defeat, leaning most of your body weight onto the small girl and muttering something unintelligible.
“Pull out.” She orders, and you comply, watching as her slick drips down the toy, before the ravenette pushes you back onto the bed, her thighs bracketing your hips. Her warmth against you makes you shudder.
“Now,” her hands reach for the straps, undoing them with masterful precision, “I’m going to reclaim what’s mine.”
The toy is tugged down your legs, and Wednesday licks her lips.
“I hope the ache you’ll feel with every step you take tomorrow reminds you of who you belong to, puppy.”
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