#its just. surreal holding it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

straykeedz · 5 months

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When kinktober is over could you do felix x virgin reader if you haven't already? That would be amazing💜

-🏐

felix x virgin!reader for you sweet anon! hope you like it ♡

tw: female anatomy; fingering (f receiving); handjob; nipple play; protected piv sex; loss of virginity; clit play; hints at blood but nothing graphic; ♡

smut, minors dni. 🤨

it was meant to be a 2k words drabble… it’s 6,1k words 🤐

❄️

“This...” Felix starts, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he uses a stick to draw a perfect heart around the two standing figures he just made, “is us.”

A big, bright happy smile spreads on his face as he points at the two little snowmen standing next to each other, holding hands - well, holding branches, technically. Felix looks so happy and proud of his creation - two little snowmen who look like very much like you and him. However, something is missing.

“They’re cute, but...” you trail, before dipping one finger in one snowman’s face to give it two little eyes and then a wide smile. Then, you repeat the same action also on the other snowman. “Now they’re happy too, just like us. Together and happy.”

Felix nearly melts at that because it’s true, you are happy - he’s the happiest with you. He pouts and sniffles, although he’s just playing with you, he’s not actually tearing up. “Sweetheart...”, he whines, intertwining his cold fingers with yours, before pulling you closer. “This is so us - happy and in love with each other. And so cute, too!”, he squeaks, looking at the two now smiling snowmen.

It had snowed early in the morning.

It’s the first snow of the season, and the first snow you get to witness together with Felix. You love snow, and he does too, especially as Christmas time is approaching. Your first Christmas together - you don’t know it yet, but Felix already got you a present, one that is carefully hidden under his bed in a cute package. He can’t wait to give it to you, he’s sure you are going to love it.

He nuzzles his nose with yours and smiles at you. You can’t help but notice how cute he is - with his nose red and so, so cold, smiling at you so brightly it makes your heart melt. Your favorite person in the whole world is right in front of you, and you are dating him - could you be any luckier? You are the one who gets to kiss his lips, to hold him close to you, to run the pads of your fingers all over his pretty freckles - yes, you are the luckiest.

You love him - your heart starts to pick up its pace at the realization. You want to tell him so bad, but every time you try to get the words out of your mouth they’d just get stuck. You love him. You love him. It almost feels surreal, to feel a love so deep and overwhelming in the best way possible.

You abruptly pull away from him only to let out a couple of sneezes, covering your nose and mouth with your hands as you do, and Felix chuckles at how cute you are. Right after you sniffle, he lets out a chuckle and pokes your cheek with his finger, making you shiver from how cold his touch is. “Let’s get inside, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”, he says, intertwining his fingers with you.

“Wait.”, you quickly pull your phone out of your back pocket. “Let me take a picture first!”, you smile at him, before snapping a picture of the two snowmen together - it’s definitely going to be your new lockscreen.

“Wait, I’ll take one too.”, he’s quick to take his phone out of his jacket and do the exact same thing.

“You do know that I could’ve just send you the pic I took, right?”, you giggle as he types the passcode to his house. Then, he pushes the door open and motions for you to get inside like a true gentleman would, even though you’ve been dating for a few months already and there’s really no need for this kid of chivalry between the two of you anymore.

Felix’s house is warm and even though you love snow, you have to admit you like being warm better - you don’t particularly like to be shivering and trembling all the time when outside. You take off your jacket and, even though it isn’t cold inside, you shiver nonetheless from the lack of layers on your body. Felix notices.

“Oh, are you cold?” Felix pouts at you, taking off his own jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You are about to answer him that no, you’re alright, but you shiver once again, involuntarily. “Ah, sweetheart, how about I make you a hot tea, hm?”

You nod, and he cups your face in his hands, much warmer now, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips. “It would be perfect.”, you whisper on his lips.

“Then go to my room and make yourself comfortable under the covers to keep yourself warm. I’ll be there soon with tea and some snacks, and then we can watch a movie or something. Sounds good?”

You nod once more and then hurry to his bedroom. You’ve been there before, of course, and the two of you would cuddle there most of the time anyway since Felix lives with a roommate - that way you can have all the privacy you need without risking being interrupted. Not that there’s much to interrupt anyway - you haven’t taken that step forward yet.

You and Felix have been dating for nearly six months, but haven’t had sex yet. You’d done other things, though, like foreplay and stuff like dry humping, but things never escalated, even though you literally saw each other naked. He’d had his hand in your panties and his fingers inside of you a few times already, and you’d done the same as you both took your time to learn how to pleasure each other the right way. He’d also gone down on you a couple of times and pleasured you using his lips and tongue, making your body literally shake from the intensity of the orgasm that had washed all over you.

He’s more experienced than you. It’s not that hard, being more experienced than you - considering you are a virgin. Felix knows that, and that’s why he never pressured you into anything, and only touched you when you asked him to first - however, whenever he is around you, he still treats you as if you were made of glass and he were scared to break you, and never really initiates things unless he’s one hundred percent sure you are into it too.

Felix’s bedroom smells like something sweet - you can’t really describe the scent, but it smells just like his skin. You smile as you make your way inside his bedroom, taking a look around the room - perfectly clean and tidy as always, his gaming station impeccable, with all of his action figures displayed in a certain fixed order. And then on the bed - a bed made incredibly neatly, lies the plushie you’d gifted him a couple of months before. You are kind of surprised to see it on his bed and not with his other plushies.

“Ah, I told you to get under the covers, sweetheart.” Felix’s voice makes you jolt in surprise, and you turn to look at him - a cup of tea in each hand and a bright smile plastered on his beautiful face. “Sorry I startled you.” he chuckles, “I just don’t want you to be cold or get sick.”

“You didn’t give me time!”, you giggle. “I thought it’d take a while for the tea to be ready.”

“That’s the magic of having a wired kettle, the tea’s ready in no time.”, he giggles, too, then places the two cups on his desk. “It’s still super hot, maybe we should wait a bit before drinking it.”

You nod, then sit down on his bed and take the plushie in your hands. A cat, with small ears and a fluffy tail. You smile at the memory of how happy he was when you’d gifted it to him. “Why is it on your bed and not with all your other plushies?”, you ask Felix, your eyes set on him as he, too, sits down on the bed, next to you.

“Yah, don’t be ridiculous!”, he gasps dramatically - such a drama queen. “It’s not like the other plushies, this one is special. It deserves a more special place.”, he explains, and a shy smile spreads on your face.

“Yah, stop it...” you squeak, embarrassed, as you feel your cheeks turning pink.

“It’s true, though!” Felix insists, taking the plushie from you in his own hands. “You gave it to me, it surely makes it the most special plushie I own. Cannot compete with those lame ones.”, he chuckles, pointing at his plushie collection, on a shelf above his gaming station. “I sleep with it.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “You sleep with it? Like, do you actually cuddle it?”, you ask, kind of surprised.

“Yah, of course I do! It smells like you!”, he quickly answers back, as if you just asked him the stupidest question. “When I close my eyes, it almost feels as if you’re next to me. It helps for when I miss you.”

You could honestly melt right here, right now.

You look at him, mesmerized by how freaking handsome he is - he looks like a dream. Sharp jawline and a perfectly curved nose; plump, heart-shaped lips, so soft every time he presses them against yours in a sweet kiss. Beautiful freckles all over his cheeks and nose - a perfect constellation on a perfect face. And his eyes... the most beautiful you’ve ever seen, of a deep brown color and so, so sweet. God, you’re so in love with him, and you want him to know - you want to tell him, and you want to show him.

He doesn’t know it yet, but you really think you’re finally ready to take the next step - to have sex with him for the first time. You’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and you’re sure about it. You love Felix, and you trust him with something so important to you - so, you want him to be your first. You’ve been thinking about it for a while, yes, but you never felt readier than now. Just looking at him makes your heart hammer in your chest and your head spin, and you feel the physical need to be as close as possible to him.

“Felix?”, you call his name softly, and he snaps his head in your direction immediately, lifting his gaze from the plushie he’s still holding in his hands.

“Hm?”

“Can we get under the covers and cuddle? I’m a bit cold.”

It’s only partially an excuse. Felix smiles at your cuteness, then nods, and in a matter of seconds you both find yourselves under the soft covers of his bed, as he pulls you closer to his body to keep you warm. You fist his hoodie with one hand, as he gently rubs your back over the thick material of your own hoodie, your leg thrown over his lap. Then, he kisses you on the top of your head, and you quickly snap your head up to meet his lips.

“Kiss.”, you pout.

“Want a kiss?” Felix rhetorically asks you, and chuckles when you nod, looking him in the eye.

His lips are warm against yours, and soft - they always are. He doesn’t really deepen the kiss until you delicately tap his lower lip with the tip of your tongue - only then he lets his tongue brush your lips. Your fingers let go of the fabric of his hoodie to cup his cheek as your soft kiss turns into a desperate make-out session. - tongue swirling, lip biting, heavy breathing, your chests rising and falling quickly.

It takes a ridiculously short amount of time before you can feel your wetness pool in your underwear, and Felix grows hard inside his boxers. He’s quick to let his hand reach his crotch, ready to grab his growing bulge in order to hide it from you - he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, he does it every time, thinking you won’t notice, but you always do. This time, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and stop him, and he knows you can feel how hard he is now.

“‘M sorry.”, he mutters, embarrassed, pulling away from the kiss, and you notice he’s blushing a bit.

“It’s okay.”, you quickly say, before crashing your lips on his once more.

Then, with your fingers still wrapped around his wrist, you move his hand until his soft fingers brush the hem of your leggings. You don’t miss the way his breath hitches in his throat. You two already did that, he already touched you down there with his fingers, but it’s been a while now since he last did it. You let his fingers brush the hem, before you let them slip under the waistband, and that’s when Felix abruptly pulls away, looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Sweetheart, are you sure?”, he asks. He wants nothing more than to pleasure you, but he also wants to make sure you really want it.

You nod, smiling at him shyly. “Yes.”, you whisper on his lips. “Touch me.”

Once more, Felix sucks in a breath - your words send a shiver down his spine, and he hopes you can’t feel the way his cock is now impossibly hard in his sweats. You can. And you can’t wait to wrap your fingers around it. You can’t wait to feel it inside of you for the first time.

Felix’s fingers brush your clothed pussy over the fabric of your panties, and it’s enough to make you shiver - meanwhile, he still places a few kisses on your lips every now and then. His fingers touch you right where your clit is, and a soft whimper leaves your mouth as he applies the littlest of pressure on your sensitive bud. You kick your head slightly back, which allows him to attach his plump lips to the soft flesh of your jawline and neck. You feel him smirk against your skin once the pads of his fingers brush the wet spot on your panties. The next thing he does, is hook his fingers on your panties, pulling them to the side to finally touch you properly. Felix’s digits brush your wet folds, and you both moan to the touch as he coats them in your hot arousal.

Felix knows how to touch a woman, he knows how to touch you. He only had his hand down your panties a handful of times, yes, but he made you cum every single time, and it was always a mind-blowing orgasm that left you panting heavily. The first time he touched you, he made you cum from stimulating your clit only. The second time, with your consent of course, he slipped one finger inside, then two, and made you cum from repeatedly brushing your g-spot. The third time, you nearly passed out, because he stimulated both your clit and your g-spot at the same time.

“Can I put a finger in, sweetheart?”, he asks you, leaving an openmouthed kiss on your neck as the pad of his middle finger brushes your folds.

“Hm-hm.”, you hum, nodding your head swiftly, impatient to feel him inside of you.

He slides the first finger painfully slow, but you gasp nonetheless. You can’t help but wonder how it’ll feel when he’ll slide his length inside of you for the first time. Oblivious of your wild, dirty thoughts and your true intentions, Felix starts to slowly pump his finger in and out of you to let you get used to the feeling.

“Another one.”, you whimper, and he has to fight a moan from escaping his throat as he easily slips another finger inside of you.

You feel hot and wet around his fingers, and you’re squeezing them so tight he almost can’t move them inside of you. Instinctively, he thrusts his hips to meet yous like a natural reflex, which allows his hard-on to brush your crotch and makes you both whimper. Felix stops moving his fingers inside of you when he feels your own fingers slip down the hem of his underwear.

“Sweetheart...” a shaky breath leaves his lips when you wrap your cold fingers around the leaking tip of his hard cock. “You do- you don’t have to.”, he whispers, looking you in the eye.

You smile at him, then peck his lips as you squeeze him, making him whimper. “I know. I want to, I love touching you.”, you say as you start to slowly pump him.

Your touch is so different from his own, Felix can’t help but notice. In a better way, naturally. You’re delicate when you squeeze him, slow with your movements as you move your hand up and down his length, gracious when you brush his leaking slit with your thumb to smear his arousal all over his cockhead. Usually, when he masturbates, he does it hard and fast, as his only goal is to cum - when you do it, though, you like to take your time with it, admiring every reaction of his, taking in the faces he makes, the way his lips part and his eyebrows furrow as he’s about to cum. He’s the first man you touched so intimately, the first man you craved to pleasure - you love to see him unravel under your touch.

It’s the same for him - he’s absolutely whipped for the way your eyes roll in the back of your skull every time you’re about to orgasm, the way your toes curl, the way you wrap your fingers around his wrist and look him in the eye as if to say please, don’t stop, not now. And he would never. He loves to feel the way you clench around his fingers as you cum for him, letting out a whimper as your chest rises and falls due to intensity of your orgasm.

As you’re about to do now, after his fingers brush your sweet spot one more time - you’re so close. Initially, you thought about asking him not to make you cum, because you wanted to do it around his cock for the first time, but then you remembered you’d read somewhere that it’s better to be as relaxed and lubricated as possible, so that the feeling will be more pleasant. That’s why you don’t try to hold back or to fight your orgasm as you feel it approaching.

Your hand, slipped under Felix’s underwear and wrapped around his thick, hard cock, stops moving as you recognize the not-too-familiar-yet-still-familiar feeling starting to build up in your lower belly, your legs already starting to shake as they do every time he makes you cum from g- spot stimulation.

“Hm, are you close, sweetheart?” Felix asks you, placing a kiss on your jaw. He doesn’t seem to mind that you stopped touching him.

You nod, already panting. “Yeah, ‘m close.”, you whine, squeezing your eyes shut.

With the right pressure on your g-spot, you cum around Felix’s digits, finally finding your release with a high-pitched whimper that makes his cock twitch. Your walls clench and pulsate around him as you coat his fingers in your orgasm. Still breathing heavily, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his cologne and the scent of his skin.

“You did so well, sweetheart.”, he kisses the side of your head as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your sensitive pussy. Normally, he’d waste no time in wrapping his lips around his own fingers to lick off your arousal from his skin, but this time he’s interrupted by you, resuming your movements on his cock, pumping him a bit quicker now.

“O-oh, love.”, it’s his turn to squeeze his eyes shut now.

You gasp at the new pet name - you already love it. You love him.

You feel him twitch in your hand and he thrusts his hips to meet your movements. “Don’t cum, not yet.”, you tell him, snapping your head up to meet his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you confused as he fights off a moan.

“Why?”, he whines, he must be close already, so you stop moving your hand completely.

Your heart starts to hammer inside your chest, and you swallow the lump in your throat. You’re about to tell him. You’re gonna tell him you’re finally ready to make love to him for the first time, that you want him to take your virginity. You’re thankful you’re lying on the bed right now, otherwise your knees would’ve give in, you’re sure.

“Felix, I...”, you take a deep breath. You’re telling him, you can do it. “I’m ready. I want you to make love to me.”

He sucks in a breath, and his eyes widen, his lips part. “Wha- are you- are you sure, sweetheart?”, he sounds sincerely panicked.

You nod quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re just saying this because of the heat of the moment, you need him to know you’re really sure about this. “I’m sure, I really am. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and... I trust you, and I want you to be my first.”, you take another deep breath. “Felix, I lo-“

“No!” Felix nearly shouts, which startles you. “Shit- sorry, sweetheart. But you’re not doing this.”, he places a kiss on the tip of your nose. Then, he pulls out his fingers from your panties and wipes them off on his hoodie to clean them from your arousal, before he cups your face with both of his hands. Meanwhile you take your hands out of his sweats, too. “You’re not telling me that you love me before I do.”, he chuckles, seeing your panicked expression.

“But-“

“No.”, he whispers on your lips, looking you in the eye. “I love you. So much, and I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. I was going to do it tonight.”, he nuzzles your nose with his.

Your heart is beating so fast in your chest you’re scared you’re actually gonna pass out, and tears start welling up in your eyes. “I love you.”, you finally say it back. “I love you so much, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, too!”, you pout.

Felix kisses your pouty lips sweetly. “I love you so, so much, sweetheart.”

You kiss him back, slipping your hands under his hoodie, brushing his naked back your fingers, and he shivers at your cold touch. “I love you too.”, you kiss him on the lips once more, then gently bite his lower lip, which makes him whimper. “Now make love to me.”

Felix’s heart hammers in his chest, and it’s his turn to swallow the lump in his throat. This is a big thing - he’s gonna take your virginity. There’s no turning back from that, it’s not something that can be undone, like in video games. But you trust him, you just told him that, and you want him. And God, he wants you too.

So he nods, looking you in the eye. “Okay, sweetheart.”

Felix’s fingers grab the hem of your hoodie and he slowly lifts it together with the t-shirt you’re wearing underneath it, exposing your naked stomach. You do the rest, crossing your arms over your torso and pulling it off in one swift motion, letting it fall on the floor. Felix bites his lip once his eyes take in the sight of you wearing nothing but a lacy, see-through bra, wanting nothing more than to swirl his tongue around your hardened nipples. In one quick motion, he sits up on the mattress and takes off his hoodie, letting it fly across the room without a care in the world, which makes you giggle. You slide your leggings down your legs as he does the same with his sweats. He nearly drools once he finds out you’re wearing matching panties, which means he can clearly see the outline of your pussy. Little does he know it’s the same for you - the sight of the bulge in his boxers is turning you on like crazy.

“God, love, you’re so beautiful.” Felix compliments you, voice husky as his eyes take in your barely clothed figure, spread on his bed. He gets closer to you, lying on his side, brushing your cheek with the back of his knuckles. His touch burns on your skin - you want him so bad.

“You’re pretty handsome, too.”, you giggle, biting your lip.

He smiles as well, then leans in to kiss you on the lips. The kiss is not exactly sweet and soft like the other times - this time it’s lustful, hot, desperate, filled with anticipation of what’s about to happen. And then Felix’s lips move to the corner of your lips, then your jaw, kiss you all over your neck until they reach your collarbone, then the valley of your breasts. Without uttering a single syllable, you arch your back, giving him silent permission to unclasp your bra. He manages to do that on the third try - stupid shaky hands. He’s nervous too, how could he not be?

Sooner than later, your bra ends up on the floor as well, falling right next to your hoodie. Felix is delicate when he cups one of your breasts with one of his hands, and he’s even gentler when he wraps his lips around your nipple, wetting your sensitive nub with his saliva. You let out a choked moan when he gives it a long suck and hums against your skin. Then, you feel his hot, wet tongue swirl around it, and that’s when you run your fingers through his hair, delicately tugging at it.

“Felix...”

He whimpers, with your nipple still in his mouth, and it’s the hottest thing ever. You can’t wait to hear the sounds he’ll make once inside of you. His lips let go of your nipple, and you suck in a breath once the cold air hits your skin.

“You make me crazy. You know that, right?” Felix rhetorically asks, looking absolutely fucked out from just sucking on your tits. You find it absolutely cute and incredibly hot at the same time.

He doesn’t wait for an answer - instead, he starts to leave a series of kisses that go from the valley of your breasts to your navel, stopping only when he reaches the hem of your panties. Yes, he can definitely see the outline of your pretty pussy, especially from this angle, and it’s making his mouth salivate.

“Need to taste you, sweetheart.”, he mumbles, kissing your inner thigh, as he hooks his fingers on the side of your panties. “Need to taste this pretty pussy, it’s been so long...”

“But... I want to cum around you...”

Felix nearly has a heart attack.

“Sweetheart, you- you’re gonna be the death of me.”, he chuckles, but he’s serious.

You giggle, propping yourself on your elbows to look him in the eye. “I’m only saying the truth, though.”, you say. “I want to feel you inside of me for the first time. I’ve waited enough.”

Felix really does want to eat your pussy, but he can do it some other time. He already made you cum earlier, so he doesn’t worry whether you’re stretched out or wet enough, because he knows you already are - plus, he’s going to use lube anyway. So, he nods, and then sits on the mattress once again only to take off his underwear, sliding his boxers down his thighs, freeing his hard cock in the process. It’s thick, and it’s hard. It looks even harder than it was before, and a little bit intimidating, but you want it anyway.

“Let me grab a condom.” Felix whispers on your lips before he pecks them quickly.

Felix had bought a box of condoms and a bottle of lube when he first started going out with you, before he even knew you were a virgin. He never really mentioned, especially not after you confessed your inexperience, because he didn’t want to make you feel pressured or anything. He’d bought them just in case, he wanted to be prepared if the opportunity ever presented itself. His hands are a bit shaky as they fish a condom from the box, and then the lube. Meanwhile, you take off your panties, your heart beating fast in your chest. You’re not nervous, nor anxious - if anything, you’re thrilled.

Too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize he’d already put the condom on his hard length and is now squeezing a generous amount of lube on the tip of his cock and on his fingers as well. Then, he positions himself between your spread legs, kneeling between them as he smears the thick lube all over his length - with the same fingers, he brushes your folds, using the lube to coat your entrance as well. He wipes the excess on his thigh, not really caring about the stickiness. Not when you’re right there, lying on his bed, legs spread for him as he’s about to enter you for the first time.

“Are you still sure you want to do this with me, sweetheart?”, he looks you in the eye as he asks you this question.

You nod, and smile at him. “Yah, of course I am. I love you, remember?”

Felix’s heart beats fast in his chest. He takes a deep breath, then swallows the lump in his throat, and aligns the tip of his cock with your slippery entrance. His body hovers over yours, and all of his weight is shifted on his elbow, as he uses his other hand to hold the base of his cock, not entering you yet.

“You ready, love?”, he asks you, pecking your lips once more.

“Ready.”, you take a deep breath.

And he pushes in. Delicately, thrusting only about an inch inside of you, and you try your best not to tense or clench around him as he sinks deeper in you. His hand lets go of his cock and he is now able to balance himself on his two elbows, positioned on each side of your head. He looks you in the eye as he pushes inside a little bit more, but stops abruptly when he feels you whimper and clench.

“Hurts?”, he asks, voice hoarse and deep.

You shake your head as a no, breathing through your nostrils. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just slightly uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable. You only have to get adjusted to his size. “Nope.”

“You sure?”, he furrows his eyebrows, not entirely convinced.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s okay.”, you tell him. He looks panicked as soon as he hears yourwords. “Felix, relax. I’m good, I’m enjoying it.”, you reassure him, nuzzling your nose with his. “You’ll tell me if it gets too much, right?”

You nod. “Promise.”, you smile at him and kiss his lips.

He pushes the rest of his length inside at an excruciatingly slow pace, and the both of you let out a deep moan once he bottoms out. You try to look down to where your bodies meet, and he does the same, biting his lip when you clench around him, your walls squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s not going to last long, you feel amazing, wrapped around him like you’re made for him.

“You feel so good, love.”, he praises you, placing a soft kiss on your bare shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“You feel good inside of me.”, you return the compliment. “You feel so big, I feel so full.”, you whimper.

You chuckle when you see him widen his eyes. “Yah, don’t- don’t say things like that!”

“Why?”, you furrow your eyebrows.

Felix’s cheeks turn pink. “‘Cause I’m not gonna last long if you do.”, he admits, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You giggle, then wrap your arms around his back, delicately scratching his skin with your fingernails. “Ah, don’t worry about that. Let’s just enjoy the moment, alright?”, you mumble, kissing the side of his head, breathing in the scent of his hair. “You’re already making me feel so good...”

But nothing compares to when he actually starts to move inside of you. A shiver runs down your body when he pulls almost all the way out, before thrusting back inside slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of his thick cock parting your folds. Your head falls back on the soft cushions and you roll your eyes back when he does it again, which makes you get goosebumps all over your skin. You quickly intertwine your fingers with his, squeezing his hand, and he stops thrusting.

“Am I hurting you?”, he asks, and you notice his breathing is already heavy.

“No- no, feels good. Move.”, you mumble, focusing on the feeling of having him inside of you. Felix chuckles, and resumes his thrusting. “You can- do it a bit faster now.”, you pant. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, now you’re relaxed enough and are completely enjoying it.

Felix moves a bit faster like you asked, but still not too fast, because he doesn’t want you to be sore later. You squeeze him incredibly tight when he brushes a spot his fingers know well, although it feels much different now that it’s his cock brushing it, it feels more intense.

“You’re so tight, oh my God.” Felix pants, cock already throbbing - he’s not going to last long, he’s so close. “I’m already close, I’m sorry.”

“I’m-“ you’re cut off by a moan “I’m close too. Could you... maybe...?”, you mumble incoherently, hoping he’d understand what you want to say.

He does, bringing two fingers to his lips before spitting on them, then placing them on your sensitive, neglected clit. He starts to rub you there, drawing circular shapes on your throbbing nub, shivering each time you let out a whine or a whimper or literally any other sound. He knows you’re close when your walls start to pulsate around him and squeeze his cock incredibly tight, making it impossible for him to move inside of you and God, he’s so close to his own release... He lifts his gaze to you, looking you in the eye as he continues to rub your clit until he feels your legs starting to shake - that’s how he knows you’re cumming.

“Felix, I’m- I’m cumming.”, you pant, digging your nails in his flesh, holding onto him for dear life as you fall apart with his cock buried deep inside of you.

You throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut as you let the wave of pleasure was over you, and before Felix knows it - he’s releasing too, filling the condom with spurts of his seed as he lets out a deep, hoarse grunt. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t feel bad about finishing so soon, because at least he made you cum too. Still breathing heavily, he lets his head fall in the crook of your neck, kissing your soft flesh.

“Was it good, love? It didn’t hurt too bad, did it?”

“It was perfect.”, you kissed his head, and he lifted his head to peck your lips. “You were perfect.”

He smiles at you, caressing your cheek. “You were perfect, too, my sweetheart.”

He can already feel his cock softening, so he’s quick to hold it by the base, ready to pull out. You wince slightly, realizing you’re starting to feel a bit sore between your legs. He gets up to take off the condom and get rid of it, but as he does that, he notices a couple of red spots on it, and instantly feels bad at the thought he hurt you, even if it was completely unintentionally. He ties a knot on the condom and throws it into the thrash can next to his bed.

When he comes back to bed, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer, kissing your head as he caresses your naked back with one hand. Only then he realises that his heart is still beating fast in his chest - he loves you so much...

“You don’t have to go to classes tomorrow, do you?”, he murmurs, intertwining your legs with his.

You shake your head, lifting your head to look at him. “Nope. Our professors emailed us this morning. They cancelled their classes because of the blizzard.”, you try your best to fight back a yawn. Felix notices and chuckles - you’re just so cute.

“Sleep here tonight?”

❄️

——————————————————————————————-

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985 notes · View notes

teabutmakeitazure · 6 months

Text

Dissimulation Continued

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (modern au)

>Word count: 4.9k

>a/n: childe "leave your degree and be my wife" tartaglia. i dont think anything in this classifies as yan since its just a continuation of the original story but still tagging that since the original is yan. also, i wrote the beginning during my flight lol

Being housemates with a mafioso isn't a very ideal situation.

First Part

Airports are holes in the fabric of time. Minutes and hours are blurred, the signature beeping sound before the limitless number of announcements causing an odd fogginess in your mind. They're surreal but comforting. You are forever a traveller there, only at the mercy of your own mistakes and mishaps.

A familiar hair colour stands out in the distance, rising above the lake of heads. Your luggage trolley is pushed closer and closer to that lake, but instead of relief, only a subtle feeling of dread settles in. It is true that in airports you are at the mercy of your own mistakes, but it is the same for the outside world. The only difference is that simply existing and being alive is not considered a mistake in the former.

The voice you've been hearing through your phone for the past weeks finally greets you directly from the source. Everything is a blur, your eyes focusing on the person who makes way through the busy crowd to get closer as the sounds become exceedingly loud. Slowly, you stop in your tracks, mind still under the haze of indistinguishable time.

The first to go is your backpack, the item promptly removed from your shoulders. The next is the trolley. Your grip on it is gently loosened, and fingers snap in front of your face to dispel the haze from your mind.

"Earth to [Name]? Hey. You alright? The flight couldn't have been that bad, come on."

Your eyes blink a few times, the background chatter becoming more prominent and the face in front of you being focused on by your vision. Words refuse to form on your tongue, so you have to rely on your actions as a last resort. After closing your mouth with mild embarrassment, your eyes settle on his oversized t-shirt. Bare arms greet you when you look for a sleeve, so you settle with grabbing the side of his shirt instead.

It’s still summer. Of course he’s wearing cap sleeves. The display of what one could easily pass off as clinginess causes him to take a step closer, his arm reaching to wrap around your shoulders. You refuse to directly look him in the eye, but allow the arm to slither around you. ‘I am with this person,’ the arm announces. ‘And we are more than what a first glance can reveal.’

“Are you feeling alright?” The arm pulls you inside a half-hug, the warmth of his body comforting with the smell of familiar cologne. “Did something happen?”

A shake of your head is all you can manage, but it is not accepted.

“Hey,” voice low, the arm around you travels upwards to gently run up and down your head. “Tell me. We’ve talked about this. Don’t hide anything from me. I only want to help.”

To yield and share your feelings with someone such as him is not easy, but you do so anyway, surprised at how easily you were able to speak. “It’s something silly,” you say, eyes glued to the floor. “I just miss home.”

The arm strokes your back comfortingly. There is more than just comfort in his voice. There is sympathy. “I understand.” Commiseration drips from his tone, a hint of melancholy behind the way he holds you closer. “We’ll get through it. Don’t worry.”

The hand grabbing the shirt is now wrapped with another, the warmth from both palms and the touch more noticeable than you would have preferred. Calluses are barely felt, but you know they are there. You saw them in detail right before you left for home. How could you ever forget?

With the other free hand, the trolley is pushed along as both of you walk to the exit. You say goodbye to the building and the odd feeling of time passing inside it. A familiar routine and life is welcomed in its stead, but the welcome is short lived.

You both have stopped walking.

“[Name]?”

You raise your head but do not meet his eyes.

“You haven’t looked at me since you got here.”

Pointing out your actions is cruel, but so is your treatment. Thus, you capitulate like you always do. The sight of the familiar dull blues is something you did not want to welcome but you do.

“Sorry.” You try your best to give a smile even if it’s shaky and uncertain. “I’m just… shaken up. I’ll be alright in a few hours.”

Unfortunately for you, the devil has another demand. “Say my name. You haven’t even said my name yet.”

“Childe?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “My name.”

A light bulb shines above your head, and you immediately respond. “Ajax.”

He smiles. “Again.”

“Ajax.”

You’re near the car before you know it.

The sun is setting which paints the sky in a beautiful gradient of red and yellow, hints of magenta red peeking through the clouds. The car’s trunk opens and your luggage is promptly placed inside. Your company for the evening comes to stand in front of you, and your eyes instead go to the constellations of freckles dusting across his cheeks. Diverting your attention to him seems to please him because he’s smiling at you.

“It’ll be night by the time we’re there.”

Your statement makes Childe turn around and face the sunset as well. Somehow the mahogany coloured t-shirt is a perfect compliment to the sky’s colours, his hair glowing a fiery red with the sunset behind him.

“If it’ll be night,” he says, hand reaching for the phone inside his pocket, “you can go home and sleep. You need the rest.”

“No.” Childe turns to look at you, phone in hand, but you continue speaking. “I need to call my mom. She said to call when I reach the airport.”

The questioning look on his face turns into a smile. “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

You raise a brow. “Taking me home?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “With my phone. What do you think I’m doing with my phone?”

Your eyes widen when he clarifies, mouth agape before you compose yourself. “Oi. I’m supposed to talk to her, not you.”

Childe’s thumb presses something on his phone, cheeky grin infuriating you further. “Too late. I sent her a text. I told her I picked you up and that we’re on our way home.”

Mouth having fallen open again, you stomp towards him. Aiming for his phone doesn’t help, for he simply raises it above his head and takes a step back. Thus, you grab onto his shirt’s neckline and pull. The smile falls from his face only to return when he’s barely an inch away from your face, noses almost brushing.

“[Name],” he breathes, eyes staring into yours, “I’m sure this counts as public indecency. Let’s go home first.”

Unbothered, you simply sigh. “I told you. I’m supposed to talk to her. Not you.”

Childe pulls away, his hand gently undoing your grip on his shirt. “And why’s that? Maintaining a good relationship with your family is important.”

“If my mother finds out I’m with you so often, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He blinks, obviously not having understood. “Isn’t that good?”

“No!”

Childe tilts his head, hair no longer glowing in the sunset. It’s starting to get dark now. “Explain.”

With a groan, you humour him, albeit begrudgingly. “She’ll scold me for being too carefree. I don’t want her on my case all the time.”

“Alright,” he whines. “Come on. Let’s go home. You need some dinner and rest.”

The car park’s street lights illuminate the area, and following Childe you get into the passenger seat. With a huff, you look at his smile - that upturn of his lips seemingly always present in front of you - and plop down onto the seat only to feel… ‘something’ under you. Childe raises a questioning brow as you halfway stand up, trying to grab whatever hard object was under you.

It would be a lie to say you weren’t daunted when a heavy, cold metal object sat in your palm.

Like throwing away a scalding hot piece of iron, you fling the gun to the back seat, eyes boring holes into the item as it lays in the back. Almost as on cue, memories of what had occurred pre-departure flood back in mockingly. It was foolish to be even slightly comfortable around him. Have you forgotten your differences?

“Woah! Careful there!” Childe glances at the firearm sitting on the back seat, but quickly turns back to you. Seeing how your chest is heaving as you look ahead, he breathes a sigh of relief. At least he used the safety lever so that it accidentally doesn’t fire. That would have ended badly.

He watches as you pay him no mind, eyes focused on what you can see through the dashboard’s glass. “Hey,” he whispers gently, “I left it there by mistake. My bad.”

You put a hand over your throat, fingers pressed to your right carotid artery. The continuously pumping blood grounds you. It grounds you, but it provides no comfort. Whatever strength remains in you after a long trip is what helps you compose yourself again.

“Let’s just go home.”

Your words are taken as a command, and Chide nods, immediately reversing the car out of the parking space. It’s completely dark now, the sky only illuminated by the moon and whatever stars are visible with the light pollution. As you exit the airport premises, you allow yourself to immerse in the silence.

Head resting against the window, you close your eyes. It’s a shame your family doesn’t know about your new living arrangements.

The first thing to greet you at your new accommodation is silence. The next is the sound of your phone ringing. The bag on your shoulders is eased off as you press the device to your ear, Childe leaving the thing on the sofa. Silver chalice coloured polished tiles stare back at you as you greet your mother while your new mafioso ‘housemate’ drags your luggage to your room.

After reassuring your mother that you have reached home safely, you excuse yourself with wanting to rest, something she respects and immediately cuts the call for. Now, your greatest conundrum faces you with crossed arms, dull blue eyes observing you instead of simply looking. It’s a test. You know it.

Thus, being the good student that you are, you play along. It is absolutely crucial that you do so because there is only one thing that may land you in hot water: your refusal to cooperate. Despite all that, there are boundaries you will not allow to be crossed, no matter how much he insists.

“Are you sure about the guest room?” Childe patiently eyes you as you mull over an answer. Eyes still taking in every minute detail of your body, he doesn’t miss you biting your lip for a moment.

With a meek voice that you know is his weakness, you mutter a yes. “I’m sorry,” you excuse yourself. “I don’t think I’ll be comfortable sharing a room just yet.”

“Well,” Childe tries again, grabbing the backrest of the sofa behind him for support, “maybe we could live in the same room, but uh, I’ll go to the guest room to sleep. Then we can slowly get comfortable with each other-”

“Childe.”

He blinks. “Yes?”

“Please.” You make it a point to slightly frown, just to garner his sympathy. “I promise I’m not being distant. I’m just… not comfortable yet.”

He sighs, the sound bouncing off the newly painted walls. “Fine. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” His commiseration, although begrudging, is welcomed on your end. Thus, to show your gratitude, you walk up to him and pat his cheek twice. The action makes his eyes widen as he looks at you, and you’re again reminded of how simple-minded he is at times. It’s almost cute… if you ignore the other stuff.

“Do you… want me to be next to you while you sleep?” Childe asks. “It’s a new environment for you. M-maybe my presence will help you fall asleep.”

You smile at him, thankful that he’s caring about your comfort. Nevertheless, you’ll be fine, so you decline. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll pass out as soon as I hit the pillow.”

He’s still looking at you like a sad puppy in hope you’ll change your mind. You do not. “Fine,” Childe yields. “Just call me if you need anything. I’ll… wake you up for dinner. You can nap until then.”

Just the thought of bed makes you sleepy, so you nod and head for your new living quarters. Unfortunately, you do not turn to look at your new housemate’s empty gaze.

It takes great strength to open your eyes, even if for just a moment, but you do not bother with waking up. Turning to the other side instead, you snuggle deeper into the cover with the contentment that your mother will come and wake you up whenever appropriate. And she does. The warm hand that rests on your cheek caresses the skin gently, a voice hesitantly calling your name.

The realisation that the hand and voice do not belong to your mother is cruel, but it suffices to instantly wake you up with a startle.

Blue. That is what you first see.

The mattress underneath you feels too hard for a moment, and you feel as though you are somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere you mustn't be. The feeling seems to be a mockery created by your mind, but you allow yourself to breathe before listening to the culprit of your disturbed sleep.

“Sorry.” You give no reaction to Childe’s apology. He continues, “It’s starting to get late, and I didn’t want to wake you up for dinner but decided against that because you probably haven’t eaten in a while.”

You continue to stare at him, giving him a look that says, ‘so?’ but he doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, he has the gall to grab your hand from underneath the cover.

“Let’s eat together.”

Childe ends up receiving a very tired raised eyebrow from you before you actually make a move to get up. However, before he could comment on your tired state and ask you to stay in bed, you have thrown the cover off your body and are already on your way to the living room. It makes him sigh, but he doesn’t complain.

Dinner is late and quiet. It’s around half past ten, but Childe doesn’t mind since you don’t have class in the morning. He took a day off as well, just to make up for lost time. The last time he saw you was weeks ago. Of course he wants to spend time with you.

You, on the other hand, down the home cooked meal without any second thought, brain still on autopilot. It makes you feel bad since you don’t have the energy to compliment his cooking, but hey. He woke you up from a deep sleep. He should feel bad. Nevertheless, the cook shamelessly asks about his cooking.

“Did you like it?”

You blink up at him, responding with a sigh. “I’m too tired to taste it.”

Hands folded over his chest, his portion of food is also gone. “I see. Want to go to bed again? I’ll lay down with you till you fall asleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Childe gives you a look again, one that reminds you just how easily his dull eyes make you acquiesce. Despite fighting it, you fail and give in like you always do. “Okay okay,” you grumble. His celebratory smile falls when you elaborate. “But no getting into bed with me. You can uh… just sit there.”

“Why not?” The tilt of his head is accentuated by his slightly furrowed brows. It honestly reminds you of a kid trying to negotiate a later bedtime with his mother. “I promised you I won’t try anything you don’t want me to.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is?”

Sensing an argument coming up, you decide to steer the conversation elsewhere. There is too much at stake to anger him just because you’re tired, and you would rather not act like a whining child simply to get what you want. No. You are better than his tactics. Better, but not necessarily perfect.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice low and dejected, “I just want to be alone. I just got back from home and everything feels so weird.” You sigh, simply to make a point. “If I was living in the dorms, I would’ve still been in bed. I really appreciate you, truly, but I just want to be alone. Living alone isn’t easy.”

He counters almost instantly. “You aren’t alone.”

“I meant family,” you clarify. “Being away from family isn’t fun.”

A pensive expression takes over his face. Childe actually looks like he’s thinking, the gears in his head moving as he tries to make sense of your words. Though they were only to get him to back off and subtly establish your boundaries, not everything was a lie. Well, some of it at least.

“Alright,” he surrenders. “I’ll sit next to you.”

Funnily enough, sleep comes easy with his presence. The fact had baffled you when you woke up in the morning, but the plentiful rest ceased any thinking on your part.

Like a sponge slowly soaking up water as it’s left over a water stain, Childe has entered almost every part of your life. He has consumed it entirely, trapping you within his confines as every single activity remains scrutinised. You had first thought you were the sponge, but you were mistaken. Childe is the sponge. You are the water he has soaked up and gotten hold of.

The power is in his hands. Though it’s not unpleasant most of the time, his proprietorial behaviour never fails to remind you of the numerous differences in both your personalities and mentalities. At first, you were able to subtly manipulate him like you did when you first got back. Unfortunately, he has either realised your tactic or grown immune to your tired expressions with displeased frowns and sweet pleadings.

You have no idea what to do.

It absolutely does not help that you are under the added stress of your studies and with no means of clearing your mind because you aren’t sure how to go out with your friends. It also doesn’t help that you simply don’t have the time to go out with your friends.

Rubbing your eyes, you cross out the name of a particular course before clicking on the submit button. The word ‘submitted’ appears in front of ‘assignment 3’, and you instantly put your head down on the table. As usual, your laptop’s screen turns off after its three minute timer is up, prompting your mind to start thinking over your next assignment.

There’s around five days to the deadline and it’s an essay. Perhaps having it drip with affectation might impress the tutor. She is one for grandiose after all. All you’ll need is to find synonyms of every other word and make them sound pretentious. Yes, that’ll do. Just make a rough draft and then edit it with the synonyms so that it’s easier to write and organise your ideas.

Wait… you haven’t even done the reading yet. How are you supposed to write it without doing the required reading?

Taking a peek at the clock on the wall, you make a mental note of reading and writing down main points and ideas before bed. That’s the only thing you have the energy left to do. Maybe you’ll watch a movie tonight, forget any academic obligations and let the mistakes take over.

“Sulking? Or tired?”

Your beloved housemate’s voice calls out from somewhere behind. That gives you a very clear idea that he’s invited himself inside the room. The door was closed. You didn’t hear anything.

Without raising your head, you mumble out your reply. “Both.”

A chuckle, and you hear him sitting down on the bed. “Wow. You sound like you need a twelve hour sleep.”

“Maybe I need twenty.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles again, “you’re going to need drugs for that.”

With a sigh, you raise your head, eyes staring at Childe’s blurry reflection on your laptop’s screen. “Maybe a drug cartel-ish business would’ve been easier. How much do you make again?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I don’t really need to keep track. It’s more than enough.”

“Show-off.”

“To be fair there are no drugs involved.”

You raise a brow at his reflection. “Then what is?”

“Hm.” Childe crosses his arms, faking deep thought. “You would have to be assassinated if I told you. Which is obviously unpreferable.”

“Yeah. I’m good then. Keep your secrets.”

He laughs again, louder this time. “Technically, spouses are immune to that rule. You’re gonna have to marry me if you want to know.”

A click of your tongue and you turn to look at him. Your expression is anything but playful. “Keep your secrets.” Now that you see the burnt maroon shirt and black pants, you figure that he just came back home. He’s even wearing his gloves.

“Oh, come on [Name]. I’m not that bad.”

You don’t reply.

“I am…?”

“No comment,” you deadpan. With that, you turn back to your laptop and turn it back on. Quietly, you close the pdf files of your submitted assignment and open the ones relating to the essay you need to turn in. By your estimate, you need to do lots of brainstorming, so if you start right now, you can get it done in around three days.

A hand flat on the table next to yours and warm breath over your ear startle you as you attempt to start reading. “Week six,” Childe reads, “the emotional mind: emotion, reason, and consciousness. Discuss the argument the author of this document has laid out and present your own views on the topic he is discussing. There is no right or wrong answer. You will be graded over your coherency in your writing and skills in identifying any possible discrepancies or invalidity of arguments. Please feel free to contact me or your tutor if you need help. The format is the same as what we discussed in class. Good luck.”

You open the document that is your required reading for the assignment and hear a grumble from Childe. He moves closer to you and instinctively, you lean forward to maintain what little distance there was. Gently, he coaxes your hand off the touchpad and asks if there’s any unsaved progress in the tabs you’ve opened. Once you say no, he closes everything.

After shutting down the laptop, he picks it up and places it on a side table. “Take a break,” he says. “You don’t need to work so hard.”

Tired, you’re almost tempted into listening to him but snap out of it when you hear what he says next.

“I’m going to take care of you, so even if something happens and you can’t complete the degree, you don’t have to worry.”

The statement makes you frown and you clearly show your displeasure with your expression and words. "That's not very nice."

He simply shrugs. "All I'm saying is that there's no pressure on you. Take it easy."

"The kind of pressure you're talking about is irrelevant."

Childe shifts his weight from one foot to the other, hand on a hip. "Is it? In what way," he challenges. "You left home to come to a different country to study. Of course there's pressure to succeed. I'm just trying to ease that."

"No. You're not." You finally find the courage to look straight into his challenging stare, unyielding despite feeling your heart start to beat faster. "You might be trying on your end, but it just makes me feel worse."

Your chest rises with every beat of your heart, the lub dub clearly audible in your ears. Again, Childe shifts his weight onto the other foot. He’s still looking at you that way, and it’s freaking you out. How can his stare be so… overwhelming?

“If you really think,” he says, “that what I say makes it worse, then I’m sorry.”

Out of surprise, you look over his expression but the furrowed brows fail to show any sign of insincerity despite his flat tone. The discrepancy makes you frown again, but you don’t bother explaining the expression to him. “Alright,” you say. With that, you go back to your table only to stare at the empty space in front of you.

There’s eraser dust around the table, your stationery haphazardly lying around and a single notebook open. There’s also your phone and a little packet of salted peanuts to munch on while studying. You hear a deep inhale from somewhere behind you but don’t bother pausing your aimless staring. It’s the sudden physical presence behind you that demands your attention back.

“[Name].”

Be mature about this, you tell yourself. There’s no need to be petty and say something neither of you will like.

At your silence, he continues. “[Name], are you… mad at me?”

Of course not! I love it when you say that you’ve cemented the idea of the both of us together. You start, “Childe-”

“Ajax.”

“Ajax,” you correct yourself, “gosh I’m still not used to that name. Anyway, I’m not mad at you.”

There’s a sound of disbelief that comes from behind you. “You’re not even looking at me!”

“I’m processing not having to use my brain. Give me a moment.”

He scoffs this time. “I don’t believe you. You’re doing the same thing. You’re being distant again.”

“I’m not,” you defend.

“Yes. Yes, you are. I know how this will inevitably go down. You’re going to grow more distant and talk less until there’s a confrontation that leaves you crying.” Childe continues despite your silence. “I don’t want that.”

It forces you to think he’s selfish, that he only thinks for himself when he says that he doesn’t want that, but despite wanting to think so, you know that he says that for you. His countenance gives away what his words cannot, and you still remember the face he made when it had happened.

That pure horror and regret is one of the reasons why despite his actions you still respect this man. Maybe it’s the only reason you don’t scream at him everyday, be acrimonious and cry yourself to sleep over your predicament. He may have taken over your life, but he also undoubtedly and unequivocally loves and cares for you. Even if he sometimes looks at you like you’re hiding something.

You will ignore the occasional watchful eyes in favour of the care he is capable of. Perhaps, or even most likely, it is the only reason why you think twice before speaking when you’re in a bad mood.

“So,” Childe says, a hand now next to yours on the table as he leans closer behind you, “let’s talk it over, okay?"

A question pops up in your mind, and you voice it after pulling your hand under the table. “Talk over what? I was just about to say that I’ll try my best not to do that again. And as for right now, I’m really just processing things. I’m tired.”

“Hm,” he hums. “The offer is still on the table. I can make your life easy. All you need to do is give me one chance.”

You scoff. “Easy? I think my life is easy enough. I don’t have to work, only study. Heck, you even do the groceries and cook more than half of the time.”

“I suppose you have a point.” In one swift movement, your chair is grabbed by the backrest and dragged to the edge of the bed. There, Childe seats himself, satisfied at the eye contact. “But I could make it easier.”

Arms now crossed, you respond to his offer with a question. “What, so you’re a magician now? I didn’t know you had a side gig.”

He laughs, boyish and charming. “Of course not. I’m just telling you what I can do for you. Nothing more.”

The smile on his face unsettles you. It’s one of the scheming ones. The one he has when he’s cooking up something that definitely is not food. Nevertheless, his little ‘clarification’ is met with nothing more than nonchalance on your end.

“Alright,” you shrug. “Thanks for making me take a break. I really needed it.”

He’s still smiling, albeit differently this time. It’s morphed into something more sincere, something more warm and welcoming. The look in his eyes is no way the same. “Absolutely. There’s no way I wouldn’t help you.”

The conversation seems almost over, and you are about to get up to lie on your bed when a demand pauses your movements. “Say my name,” he says. “I love hearing my name from you.”

You know why he asks that of you sometimes. It grounds him, reminds him of who he is behind the red mask that lays next to the vase on the side table. Gloves are peeled off, and hypnotised by the reveal of the long fingers underneath them, you mindlessly give your reply.

“Ajax.”

“[Name],” he breathes.

You are just as breathless. “Ajax.”

Face now resting in his palm, his smile is small but affectionate. “[Name].” Eyes follow as well, turning into something more soft. You finally see the image of someone adoring and can’t help the almost desperate call that slips from your mouth.

“Ajax.”

You do not know who you were calling to.

#childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader

1K notes · View notes

unformula1 · 3 months

Text

hugs, pouting and kisses (LN4 x reader)

valentines day series

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Synopsis: Lando pouting, him regretting it. You kiss him.

“You’re messing up my hair!” He says before pouting and crossing his arms.

It makes you smile more, seeing him like this, it’s adorable. He turns his head away from looking at you.

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It's 3 am and you can't find your friends

I will leave the light on

If you want to come home

I will leave the light on for you

-leave the light on (Johnny Orlando)

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masterlist

word count: 644

valentines’ day countdown: -5

pairing: lando norris x reader

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“I love you.” Lando says, snuggling his head into your personal space.

“Mhm, well I love you more.” You reply, patting his fluffy curly hair.

“No you don’t.” His voice is slightly muffled as his head dives into your chest.

“You’re particularly touchy today.” You chuckle.

You can’t lie. You love it. You love it when Lando just takes away whatever definition of personal space there is and holds tightly onto you.

You hug him back, the positions are awkward but you don’t care, Lando’s touch feels surreal.

His head slowly falls onto your lap and he looks up to the ceiling, beaming from ear to ear. His smile shows all his teeth and it looks innocent and perfect.

You smile at him and stroke his face, ruffling his hair a little. It makes him chuckle, which sends your heart wild every time.

“You’re messing up my hair!” He says before pouting and crossing his arms.

It makes you smile more, seeing him like this, it’s adorable. He turns his head away from looking at you.

You kiss his cheek and he turns back to face you. He doesn’t turn back and continues to pout. You see a small grin sneak its way onto his face but Lando fights to keep it in.

You shrug and lift his head off your lap, getting up from the couch.

A look of horror fills Lando’s face as you stand up and stretch. His eyes widen and his pout disappears. He quickly grips onto your waist and holds onto it, pulling you back, not letting you walk away.

“Don’t go. I’m sorry.” He says, tightly gripping onto your waist.

You give him silence as a response.

“I’m sorrrrrry…” He drags the ‘sorry’, his grip doesn’t loosen, “I won’t pout anymore. I promise!”

You continue to ignore him, taking one step away from the couch.

It doesn’t go well for you as Lando violently pulls you back, making you fall back onto the couch, the cushions breaking your fall. Sometimes you forget how strong Lando is. You turn to face Lando, who looks horrified.

“I didn’t mean to pull that hard.” He looks panicked, as if he’s pissed you off, “I’m sorry.”

You try to keep a straight face but this is too cute. A smile breaks through and the laughs you’ve been holding back finally come out.

Lando’s body stiffens up, his face filled with confusion.

You shift yourself closer to Lando and hug him.

His body relaxes slightly, “You’re not mad?”

You shake your head, “How could I? You look so adorable.”

He smiles and blushes, “Really?”

Your hug tightens, “Mhm.”

He hugs you back. You kiss the top of his forehead which causes his face to flush bright pink.

----------------------------------------------

“I love you.” He says, snuggling with you.

“Well, I love you more.” You reply.

“Debatable.”

He chuckles and you find yourself instinctively looking at his lips. Your gaze is filled with soft romance.

It looks…perfect.

You don’t hold anything back as you lunge at him. He falls backward onto the couch and you gently kiss his lips.

He kisses back.

It’s messy, but it’s tender.

“Okay maybe you do love me more.” He says as your lips pull away.

You smile.

“I know.” You reply, licking your lips.

Lando lets out a rough sounding ugh and pulls your face back in, kissing your lips. You instinctively kiss back. It's definitely passionate on his part.

Your hands run through his hair, messing it all up.

When the both of you are done, you get off him and he sits up. Both of you lock gazes for a second and it’s silent around you. It’s you and him, you and Lando Norris.

“Still mad I messed your hair up?” You ask mischievously.

He shakes his head and lays on your lap. You stroke him.

It’s perfect.

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evera-era · 6 months

Text

heal me. (pt 3)

ellie williams x f!reader pt 1, pt 2

warnings: nervous/cutesy ellie, fluff, yearning, eventual kissing !!

a/n: no mentions of medic stuff this time bc i wanted reader to enjoy life outside of that. also i’m sorry for putting this off, i just wasn’t sure how i felt ab it </3 but here’s the final part !!

“Wow… you really do have the whole collection.” You murmur, lightly grazing your fingertips over the spines of Ellie’s comics.

It was the first time you had been to her house. Well… garage. She wasn’t exactly proud of it either, but it was homely.

“Pretty cool, huh?” She says, watching you. “I’ve probably read it about a dozen times already.”

You smiled, turning and looking at her over your shoulder. She shifts on her bed.

“Didn’t know you were a geek.”

“A- A geek?” She stutters, raising her eyebrows. “Wow, okay. Ouch.”

You both laughed, and you bit down on your lip. “It’s not a bad thing. Geeks are cute.”

You turned to look back at her bookshelf as Ellie’s face flushes. She knew you were flirting with her — it was obvious you were flirting with her — but she didn’t know what to do next.

“Mind if I read the second one while I’m here?” You ask, pulling the sandwiched comic out of its spot.

“Go for it,” She says, pulling her converse off her feet. “You can come sit over here. I mean — if, if you want.”

You grinned, spinning on your heel before plopping yourself on her bed. It was soft, and surprisingly comfy.

“Hey, this isn’t fair.”

“What?” She says, eyes widening.

“Your bed. It’s so nice,” You comment, looking up at her. “How do you just casually have the best bed, like, ever?”

The redhead laughs. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I’m not even kidding,” You sigh. “God. I could sleep here forever.”

As you turn the page and begin reading, Ellie can’t help but look over at you. You were inches away from her, on her bed, in her bedroom. And you said you wanted to sleep next to her. It felt surreal.

She swears she could probably die happy right about now.

About ten minutes pass, and Ellie clears her throat. “So, uh, how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s really good,” You say, still holding the book up. “I think I could get into this series… if you’ll let me, of course.”

“Y-Yeah,” She says quickly. “Yeah, of course. Uh, whenever you want.”

You smiled gently before looking over at her.

“Hey, Ellie?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “Or… boyfriend? Sorry. Should’ve asked.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “G-Girlfriend. And uh, no, not currently.”

“So you’re seeing someone?” You question.

“No— No, sorry. I meant… that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” You say simply, before returning to the comic. Her head swarms as she tries to figure out your intentions.

Was that was your way of telling her you liked her? Shit, or were you just being friendly? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t wanna read into it wrong.

A few more minutes pass as she looks down at you. “Um… and you?”

“Huh?” You say, looking up from the book. “Me?”

“Y-Yeah. Do… you have someone?”

“No,” You say. “I’d be surprised if anyone even liked me. I mean… I’m not all that. But you? You get to go on patrol and look all badass and stuff.”

Ellie blushes, looking down at the ground. “You— you look good, too. Better. I meant… better.”

She wants to kick herself. Why does she sound so stupid when she wants to flirt back?

Nonetheless, you took the compliment with a smile. “Thanks, Ellie.”

Ellie gives a thin-lipped smile, desperately hoping she was better at putting her thoughts into words. And that she wasn’t a total dork.

The two of you had spent the next few hours in her room. The sun slowly began to lower in the sky, painting her window blinds a pale shade of gray. You had gone through two comics at most, as you had spent half of your time speaking to her instead of actually reading.

“Alright,” You nudged her knee. “It’s your turn to tell me a story.”

“Alright, alright.” She pauses. “I have a good one. It’s about my friend Jesse.”

“Okay. Shoot,” You reply, looking up at her.

You realized that you enjoyed watching her. More than anyone you had ever met.

There was a sparkle she got in her eyes when she was excited about something, and her nose would scrunch whenever she described something she didn’t like. It was cute and adorable and god, you wanted more of her.

“…And so while me and Dina were sledding, he slips and absolutely busts his ass.” At this point, Ellie’s smiling, making grand hand gestures as she explains.

“I’m talkin’ full on, face first into the fucking snow! It was hilarious, and—“

She notices your staring, and immediately clears her throat. “Uh... are— are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You say, pushing yourself up from the position you were laying in. You scoot closer, so you’re hovering over her face.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, looking into her eyes. When you’re met with silence, you close your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.

“Sorry… was that awkward?” You cover your face with your hands. “That was awkward, wasn’t it? N-Nevermind. I swear I was listening—“

For a moment, you were worried that maybe you had come on too strong. That just as you began to make a new friend, you had pushed her away, in a rather embarrassing manner. But your fears dissipate when you feel the warmth of her hands on yours.

She peels your hands away from your face, holding them gently. Her fingers were nimble, and rather coarse, but her touch is near electrifying.

“Please,” She whispers, barely audible. And before you have the chance to lean in, her lips have already hit yours.

Ellie’s kiss is desperate; it was something she had been wanting to do since she had first met you. And inside, she’s ecstatic, because she never thought you’d ask her to.

Her lips are warm, and encompassing, and her breath is shallow against your face. She goes slowly as to burn this memory into her brain.

When the two of you pull away, it’s quiet. You were worried if maybe you had changed the dynamic too quickly, but then she speaks.

“I… I really wanted that.” She says softly. You smile, nodding.

“Yeah. Me too.”

You turn your head away in an attempt to ease the fluttering in your chest. Ellie’s eyes are still on you, and she reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair away from your neck.

Your eyes land on the comic cover, and you laugh halfheartedly.

“I, um, barely finished it.” You utter. “The book.”

“Oh,” She says, raising her brows. “You… you can take some more with you, if you want. So you can read them.”

You shrug, looking back over at her.

“Or maybe I can just come back over here.” You add. “So I can read them with you?”

Ellie’s heart skips a beat, and she quickly nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s— great.”

You got up from her bed, putting the comics back. When you turn around, you press your lips together, looking off to the side.

“One condition, though.”

“Hm?” She says, looking back over at you.

“I come over as your girlfriend… not your friend.” You say shyly. “It’s my only rule.”

Ellie grins, standing up from the bed as well. She approaches you slowly.

“Well… you’re leaving as my girlfriend… aren’t you?”

“Am I?” You smile coyly, putting your arms around her neck. “This your way of asking me out?”

Ellie nods, face flushed. She thought it was cute, and a little funny, that you had casually assumed she went around kissing people she wasn’t into. She considered herself way too much of a loser to accomplish something like that.

You giggle a bit.

“Okay, then. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Her girlfriend. Her girl. Ellie can’t help but feel fuzzy at the thought of it.

It sounded good — it sounded right, rolling off of your tongue. She truly couldn’t wait to have you around her arm, walking with you around town.

Ellie doesn’t say anything else, merely smiles bashfully as you lean in to kiss her again.

And even though she couldn’t be sure of the future, she’s sure that in this moment, she wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else besides you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fluff

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five-rivers · 26 days

Text

Cracked Clay Cup

for @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Are you awake?”

Until he heard that question, the answer to it would have been a resounding no. However, he was awake now, so he pried his eyes open to squint at whoever had interrupted his sleep.

“Maybe,” he mumbled into a fluffy pillow.

“Excellent. Then we can start the questionnaire.”

In his opinion, it was far too early for a questionnaire. On the other hand, the creeping feeling that something wasn't quite right was creeping its way up his spine. He levered himself out of his blanket cocoon and into a sitting position. Then he retrieved his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. He wanted to be cozy.

“Questionnaire?” he asked.

“Indeed. It’s not long.”

“Um, okay. What are you doing in, um…” This… wasn’t his bedroom. He was pretty sure this wasn’t his bedroom. Or any place he’d seen before.

He also didn’t think he’d seen the ghost before, which added an air of surrealism to the whole situation.

“Who are you?” he asked, looking the ghost up and down. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in purple, with a hooded cloak thrown around his shoulders. There was a rectangular hole in his chest, and in the hole was a pendulum and clock face.

“That is, in fact, one of the questions I have to ask you.” The ghost showed him the back of a clipboard and produced a pen from thin air.

“Um, that, um.” He frowned. “Who am I, or who are you?”

“Yes,” said the ghost. “But let us start at the beginning. Do you know who you are?”

“Well, yeah, sure, I’m… Um. I’m. I…” It should have been an easy question. It should have been a question he didn’t even have to think about, which is why he didn’t. But he didn’t even have the echo of an answer.

“I will mark that down as a no.”

“Wait, wait,” he said, “what’s going on, who am I?”

“I have to go through the whole questionnaire before I answer your questions, I’m afraid. Those are the rules.”

“I… okay?”

“Do you recognize me in any capacity?”

“Nope. Am I supposed to?”

“Excellent. Next question, do you know where you are?”

He shook his head. “Somewhere in the Ghost Zone, I think.”

“Do you know what year it is?”

“Um. Two thousand five? Or, uh, six?” He shrugged. Something like that. It was a little blurry.

“How old are you?”

“Teenage?”

“Can you describe yourself?”

“Um… Forgetful?”

“Physically,” clarified the ghost.

He looked down. He was covered in blankets and therefore unable to see so much as an inch of skin. He crossed his eyes to look at his nose. “White,” he said, finally. “Probably. And a guy. Is that a physical thing?”

The ghost made a note on the clipboard. “And how would you describe your parents? Your family?”

“Uh. They probably… exist.”

“Very good. Favorite band?”

“Dumpty Humpty. Why do I know that and not my name?”

“Please hold your questions until the end. Favorite food?”

“Milkshake. Kiwi fudge. That’s weird. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“No weirder than a cheese puff and bacon milkshake.”

“Huh. Is it weird that I want to try that now?”

“Somewhat, but not horribly so.”

He gazed at the ghost silently for several long seconds. The ghost gazed back. This was already an awkward situation, but it was getting worse by the second.

“So… what’s the next question?”

“That was the last question. As you can doubtlessly tell, I am now answering your questions.”

He probably should have noticed that, actually. He leaned forward, eager. “Great, so, uh, what’s going on? Why don’t I remember anything?”

“Your memory was removed in preparation for legal proceedings.” Was it just him, or did the ghost seem… displeased about that?

“Uh… that seems sort of backwards, doesn’t it? If I’m supposed to testify or defend myself, shouldn’t I at least remember what it is I’m doing?”

“That would be true if you were testifying or defending yourself.”

“Okay… So… What am I doing?”

“You are the subject of an extensive custody dispute.”

“And… that means I need to get my memory erased why?”

“We ghosts have a different method of settling custody disputes. We prefer it if the child in question decides who to be with.”

“I kind of feel as if that’d also be easier with my memories.”

“On the contrary, memories can often lead to people choosing to stay in unpleasant situations. For example, memories might create a sense of debt, sentiment, or honor that would prevent an objective decision based on current reality.” The ghost said this as if he was reciting the phrase from rote memory.

“That seems… wrong, somehow. Like, there’s a missed assumption or something.”

“Be that as it may be, it is how we do things.”

“‘We’ being ghosts.”

“Correct.”

“Am I a ghost?” This felt like another of those things he should just know, but, as before, he just didn't.

“An unusual kind, but yes.”

“I'm dead?”

“You died, yes. Whether or not ghosts count as dead is a matter of scholarly debate.”

Well. Okay, then. He didn’t know what to say to that. He sort of thought being dead would have more impact, but maybe it was hard to mourn for a life he didn't remember. Or maybe he'd been dead for long enough that he'd already processed all the implications, and that had stuck around subconsciously. Like the name of his favorite band.

That was still weird.

“So… What happens now? Do you lead me out into the courtroom, see who I run to? Do some kind of genetic test? What are the rules here?”

“On the contrary, we have taken measures to keep your biological family from having an unfair advantage based on resemblance. No. What will happen is that, as a trial, you will spend a few days with each group that put themselves forward as potential guardians. They have acquired housing appropriate for a young ghost, and have been… reviewed… to prevent abuses or other troubles. You may leave their temporary guardianship whenever you choose. However, once you leave, you will not be able to return to them until and unless you choose them at the end of these trials. Between the potential guardians, you will stay here with me.”

There were so many troubling things in that explanation that he didn’t even know where to start.

“So… the courtroom thing, but drawn out.”

“I suppose so, if you choose to look at it that way.”

“Right. So, um. What’s my name?”

“It’s Daniel.”

“Great. Okay. Cool.” Daniel rubbed his eyes. Despite all the heart-attack inducing things he was learning about today, he was still half-asleep. Maybe it was a memory-wipe side-effect. “You know, this is kind of messed up. Some kind of weird reverse fairy tale kind of thing. Like that story where someone has to pick the right girl when she’s been turned into a flower and there are two other flowers. Why do I know that?”

“Unfortunately, I am not allowed to give you that information. I am here to tell you the rules and make sure you are… able to do this.”

“To make sure you guys didn’t nuke my brain, you mean?”

“To some degree, yes. But this is also frequently rather emotional, at least that is my understanding. You are handling it remarkably well.”

“Oh, I’m just delaying my breakdown until after I see what I look like. Better to have some idea of what my body is capable of in terms of punching walls and all that.”

“Wise,” said the ghost, with a small smile. “There is a bathroom just through that door if you wish to examine yourself physically.”

“I’ll do that, in a bit. But, first, um. You keep saying we and us. Who is that? Who’s doing this? I mean, ghosts, sure, but more specifically?”

“The legal system of the Ghost Zone.”

“Which is… Who? Exactly? The Observants?”

“You remember that. Interesting. But, yes, they are, for better or worse.”

“And you? What's your position?”

“I am merely a neutral monitor selected by the Observants.”

“Monitor, huh?”

“I feel as though it would be misleading of me to call myself an observer under these circumstances.”

Daniel nodded. “I can understand that. I guess. Is that, um, your usual job? Taking care of kids like this?”

“I’m afraid not. I work for the Observants in another capacity.”

“What capacity?”

“That would be one of the things I am not permitted to tell you.”

“Okay, and what’s up with that? Why can’t you tell me things?”

“I am not allowed to give you information regarding your own past, including contextual information.”

Daniel frowned at the ghost. “That sort of implies that I knew you, though, doesn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Cool,” said Daniel. “That’s helpful. You’re not in the running for my… whatever I should call this. My guardianship?”

The ghost nodded. “That is an acceptable term, but I must remind you that I am a neutral monitor.”

“Sure. Right.” There were other questions he could ask, other questions he should ask, but his brain felt fried. Did he have a brain, being a ghost and all? Or was he just, like… goo?

Yeah, no, he wasn’t going to ask that. He was going to go do something more… concrete. Bathroom time. He was sure it would be just as harrowing, especially with the implication that his appearance had been changed somehow, but he could be brave.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over. He frowned at the cold floor and decided to take the blankets with him. Then, he realized one of his questions had gone unanswered.

“Hey, um. What’s your name? You never did say.”

“You can call me Clockwork. And when you are done in the bathroom, I have breakfast waiting downstairs.”

Daniel heaved himself up and went to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at Clockwork as he went.

This was just… really weird. Should he try to escape? Like, even if Clockwork was telling the truth about everything, this wasn’t exactly what he would call a good situation. But if this was the lie, then what was the truth? The truth was always worse, when people were lying like that.

… Not that Daniel could come up with any specific examples of that. It was more of a feeling.

Soft lights came on in the bathroom as he stepped in. It was… a bathroom. He was sure he’d been in other bathrooms before. This one had a purple-on-lavender color scheme and a large bathtub. The fixtures were brass. In other words, it resembled Clockwork to a surprisingly high degree. Daniel wondered if he lived here normally, or if he’d just been the one to decorate. Or if someone with a sense of irony had decorated it for him.

Whichever. Maybe he’d ask Clockwork about it and see if he answered. It was harmless enough, compared to some of the questions he could ask.

There was also a mirror. He stared at it.

His skin was a sort of tan pink, awash with freckles. His hair was white. His eyes were glowing and green. His ears were long and pointed, curving up around the sides of his face to sit on the top of his head. The blankets were also purple, funnily enough. Huh.

He leaned closer, squinting. What kind of ears were those, anyway? He had to assume he didn’t have them when he was alive and human. Cat? Dog? Fox? It wasn’t an automatic ghost thing, either, since Clockwork didn’t seem to have them, although that hood could likely hide a lot.

If he had animal ears, did he have anything else? Maybe some cool slit pupils? He leaned even closer, over the counter. Maybe? They might be slitted? He alternately blinked and widened his eyes, trying to make his pupils change sizes.

Yes! They were slitted! Cool!

Which put better odds on this being a fox or cat thing than a dog thing. Dogs had round pupils.

Next question: did he have a tail?

He swung the blankets off his shoulders and folded them up so he could set them on the counter. He was, surprise surprise, wearing purple pajamas. But he also had a large, fluffy tail. He petted it. It was very fluffy.

Excellent. He’d always wanted a tail. Well, he’d wanted one for the few minutes he’d been aware there was a possibility he could have one. Very nice. Good feeling. Soft.

It also seemed very unfamiliar.

Precautions.

Right.

The smile slid off his face. Well. On reflection, he didn’t think Clockwork was lying to him, but he really needed to know more about him to make a real determination. Just like he needed to make a determination about his potential ‘guardians.’

This was giving him real adoption scam vibes. Which was weird, because he’d’ve thought that’d be one of the memories they’d erase if they wanted to do that. Maybe memory erasure was just… really inexact. That sounded like a possibility. Maybe there was some other weird scam going on.

Only one way to find out. He washed up, then left the bathroom and navigated towards the stairs.

The stairs were also purple.

Daniel was definitely leaning towards this place being decorated by someone with a weird sense of humor. A non-Clockwork someone. There weren’t nearly enough clocks for this place to have been designed by someone named Clockwork. You had to be really into clocks to name yourself Clockwork.

“Welcome,” said Clockwork, smiling at Daniel from the center of the purple kitchen. “There are pancakes.” He gestured to the table. “And the file next to them has the names of your potential guardians. Why don’t you read through them and see who you might like to stay with first.”

“You want me gone so soon?” asked Daniel, sliding into his seat.

“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you want, but then you won’t get your memories back.”

“I can get my memories back?” asked Daniel, looking up sharply.

“Yes, they will be returned after you make your choice,” said Clockwork. He turned back to the stove. “Hashbrowns? Eggs? Sausage?”

“Um,” said Daniel, who was gradually realizing how hungry he was. “All of them?”

“Of course.”

Daniel turned his attention back to the file folder, then flipped it open. Time to see who he was being… adopted by? Was that the right term here?

The first page had seven groups of names, bullet pointed. It was also done in calligraphy, which was certainly a contrast to the plain manila folder it was stored in.

“Anyone catch your eye?” asked Clockwork, setting down a plate with eggs and sausage on it.

“Does it matter which order I do this in?”

“Not at all.”

“So I could start at the end.”

“Indeed.”

“Great,” said Daniel. “Then let’s start there. After breakfast.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

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