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woewriting · 27 days

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𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘅𝗶𝗮 (𝗶) | 𝖼𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 & 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

you're dying to know what cairo's lips taste like.

tags. mdni! no pronouns used, kissing, slightly nsfw, sexual tension, a bit angst, not exactly a happy ending, sorry... | word count. 2295

part 1 . part 2 | masterlist

Clearing your throat for the 5th time since class started, you tried to look away from the girl that stood in front of the class, paper in hands as she read the words written on it to everyone. The brown eyes would often travel around looking for any reactions that she would entice, from Mr. Miller, to her best-friend, to the rest of the students and finally landing on you.

Cairo gave you a brief smile, but enough to make you blush. The heat wave taking over your body, making you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Sitting in the front row, that close to her, was not the best idea.

As the brunette finished presenting her paper, the professor motioned for her to return to her seat, right next to you. Also not a good idea, but she insisted and it wasn’t hard to comply with her wishes. You swallowed hard, eyes looking at your hands that rested on your lap, avoiding to look at her, being this closed never failed to agitate your heart, especially after her readings.

“So,” Cairo leaned closer, whispering in your ear with a sweet voice. “What did you think?”

“It was incredible, as well as everything you've ever written. You have a way with words that never fails to astonish me.”

The girl let out a small laugh. “Is ‘astonish’ your word of the day?”

“How did you guess?” You retorted in the same playful tone.

You finally looked at her. Big mistake, if you cared to admit to yourself.

Cairo was close, leaning into your personal space as she always did to test your reactions. Her eyes carried unspoken words that you wished she’d share with you the same way she does when working on her writing, but it never seemed to be something that would, eventually, come to reality. She had many things she wanted to share, unfortunately, none involved you.

Not directly, at least.

Feeling your throat dry at the sudden closeness, your eyes darted from hers, down to her lips where a small smile rested, knowing damn well the effect she had on you.

“I can read you like a poem.” She whispered, pulling back to pay attention to the rest of the class.

It was a truthful statement, she can read you as if you were written by a high schooler, with shallow, badly used words that confuses everyone around, including you.

Sometimes it felt like she was interpreting you wrongly, in her own ways.

And that only made you more confused as to what was the feeling you felt when she was beside you. And what she felt for you.

Yet, you burn inside to hear her mind.

The rest of the morning went by like the wind, occasionally blowing on your hair, threatening to rain every second. Like every other ordinary day.

Cairo would spend time either writing or reading in her own world, completely focused on the words she would type on her laptop, stealing glances from you every now and then when Winnie’s laugh got her attention. You pretend not to feel the brown eyes burning your side profile, but the brunette always noticed the way you gulp and bite on your lower lip before returning her attention to her work.

Only then you’d look at her. And it was as if the world was muted by whoever controls this reality, making everything disappear as you gazed at her face, from the messy fringe that covered her forehead to the light-colored dots that were spread on her skin, your favorite one being a small freckle on her lip that you wished to kiss away and steal it for you.

You were dying to know how she tastes, if it was bitter like the coffee she insists is better than any other sugary garbage you and Winnie chooses to drink, or if it was minty like the cigarettes that always rested in her hands. Maybe it tasted like cinnamon because of the gum she carries in her back pocket, or cherries since she loves to eat them when she’s alone at home.

Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Winnie Black and whatever was the subject she seemed excited to talk about, and all you could do was laugh when she did.

Cairo noticed your behavior.

On your way through the trees, you trailed behind her, just admiring the way she would kneel whenever a new insect crossed her way.

“Don’t you think they’re cute?” She asked with glowing eyes, looking hypnotized by the green praying-mantis in her hands.

“It would be more interesting if they could kung-fu.”

Cairo rolled her eyes at your joke, coming closer to you to lay the innocent animal in your own hands, a disgusted feature took over your face once you felt the tickles in your skin.

“If they could kung-fu, you’d be dead by now.” She joked back, walking her way out of the woods that led to the old, empty mansion on the other side, leaving you behind unsure on what to do with the tiny creature in your hands. Luckily, it jumped off on its own as if it had noticed your discomfort.

You laughed to yourself, following her once again.

The old place had slowly become your second house as you stayed there more than at your actual home. With Cairo’s parents out for most of the days on working trips, you’d find yourself more comfortable with the other’s presence as you both worked on your assignment in silence after class.

It was dark outside the window when you let out a sigh of relief, finally finished with your work. Looking over to Cairo, she still had the laptop on her lap, but little did you know she had finished her own homework way before you.

“Do you know what ‘basorexia’ means?” Her voice made you stare at her with a confused aura. You denied with your head, sitting back up on the chair you were in. Cairo took one last drag on the cigarette that rested between her fingers before putting it out on the small, porcelain plate on the nightstand by her bed. She walked to you at a slow, calculated pace until she was standing in front of you. “It means ‘the overwhelming desire to kiss someone’.” She explained, calmly placing herself on your lap.

“What are you doing?” You choked on your voice, trying to back yourself away from her, but her hands firmly on your shoulders and legs resting side by side with yours made you stay in place.

“I want the truth.”

“What truth, Cairo?”

When the brunette leaned closer, you could smell the mint in her breath. Her fingers found the collar of your shirt, touching your neck with the tip of them.

“About what you want.” Her eyes were dark, pupils full blown at the feeling of you so tensed up under her touch. “I see the way you look at me, an overflowing desire that is almost drowning you in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried to play off, but your voice failed you as you looked away from her, focusing on the vintage furniture that decorated her bedroom; everything looked so antique, matching perfectly with the personality of the girl stranding your lap.

Cairo’s hand left your shoulder to lock your chin over her index finger as she made you look at her.

“You can lie to yourself as many times as you want, but you cannot lie to me.” Her thumb brushed softly on your lower lip and you had to stop yourself from sucking it into your mouth. “You think you’re doing a great job at hiding what’s in your head, but your body gives away your true intentions.”

“And how’s that?” The low, curious tone in your voice made the girl lean closer, brushing her lips against yours.

“Your eyes love to travel up and down my body, but they seem to have a strange obsession with my lips.” She licked on them, the tip of her tongue touching you. You closed your eyes for a mere second, but the small tilt on your chin made you open them again. “Your cheeks gain a pinkish tone whenever I lean closer to you and you stop breathing as if the air I let out is toxic. Your hands refuse to touch me out of fear I’ll burn under your touch.” The hand that wasn't holding you in place found yours that were glued to your sides, making them rest on her thigh. “So, I want you to tell me what’s going on inside your pretty little head.”

Cairo Sweet is objective, what she wants, she’ll have it. One way or another. And she had her own ways to justify the means.

Your brain tried to form a single sentence, but the words had left your vocabulary, all it had left was the new word you had just learned: basorexia.

Was that what you felt in your chest?

Once again, the girl proved to be ahead of you, knowing your true wishes. Reading you like an open book displayed on her desk among the others that she devours.

You took one last deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before you let out all that’s been troubling you since you first met Cairo.

“I want to kiss you. But only once, I think.” The girl smiled, reaching out for your other hand so that now both rested on her thighs. “I just want to know what it’s like and I’ve spent enough time staring at your lips that I can’t bear the thought of never finding out.”

“What if I don’t want to kiss you?”

“Then that makes us two liars instead of one.” Your voice was nothing but a lowly whisper, afraid to break that thick tension that surrounded the both of you like the smoke that Cairo blew out of her mouth.

Your hands moved up and down, never trespassing the fabric of her black skirt. You didn't want to abuse a boundary that you didn't know existed, but imagined. Everything about Cairo was a mystery, she spent more time hidden in the words of her books than actually expressing her wishes out loud, it was rare the times she felt comfortable saying them, and when she did, it felt like you were standing in the eye of the hurricane.

Her hands were heavy on your shoulder, slowly moving to tangle in your hair to pull your head back. You looked at her with half-opened eye lids and parted lips as she carefully analyzed you, deciding on what should be her next step. All she knew was that, after the first one, she couldn’t take two back.

Cairo fixed herself on your lap, holding back a heavy breath that threatened to escape her throat at the touch of your burning hands moving past her skirt. You wanted to grab the flesh and move her against you just to hear that sound again.

You watched with hypnotized eyes when she stopped smiling, hovering over you with open lips, her hot breath mixing with yours, but never closing the small gap between the two of you. She was unsure, hesitant, almost as if waiting for someone to push her off the edge of a cliff.

This time you took the first step, your hands held her waist and your torso moved against hers to capture her lips with your own, sucking on her bottom lip. Cairo kissed you with hunger, easily taking control of the situation with her hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you towards her as she pushed herself on you, not even air could go through you.

She tasted divine on your tongue, even more than you could ever dream of, and the sounds that were escaping from her parted lips whenever you tilted your head for a different fitting filled your ears and soon became your favorite sound. When she moaned against your mouth, feeling your nails dig the skin of her waist, you went to heaven and back, your body heating up as if hell embraced you in a tight hug.

Moving one of her hands from your face, the brunette guided yours up, squeezing her breast with a small smile while kissing you before leading it down her body once more.

She was hot against your fingers and it was easy for you to slide them against her slit at a torturous pace. Cairo held your hand steady, deciding to move her hips against you, whining on your lips with eyes closed. Short nails digging at the nape of your neck, a bearable burning on the spot.

Trailing your kisses down her neck, you licked on her pulse point, earning yourself a hoarse moan before she pulled back from you, standing up before she reached the ‘no return’ point.

You nearly screamed at the sudden abruption, following behind her. As your arms were to wrap around her waist, she pushed you down back on the chair with a firm hand on your chest. You stared at her, frustrated and bothered, and she didn’t seem so different from you. Swollen lips, dark eyes and heavy breathing, her shoulders fastly moving up and down. Once again, you were confused with her actions.

The awkward silence that filled the bedroom was loud, screaming inside of your head. You wanted to slap that expression on her face, the one that looked at you with a tensed jawline. Instead, you just got up and took the jacket that rested on the chair’s arm, hearing the flick of her lighter before you closed the door and walked down the stairs, a burning feeling on your chest.

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maybankswhore · 10 months

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Can u maybe do something we're the reader says something like "I feel so safe w u" to bf jj and it kind of js makes him super happy because he knows she has trust issues

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄.

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader , pronouns used are she/her

summary: jj likes knowing he’s your safe place. basically really , really lovey-dovey couple.

warnings: mentions of anxiety , drug use ( smoking a joint with jj on the beach )

The air felt like a blanket as you laid underneath the sky decorations. Staring at the stars that twinkled in the dark , lighting up the high points of your face. Your head rested in JJ’s lap , inhaling the joint that he had rolled for the two of you earlier in the Twinkie , your body feeling at peace.

It was hard for you to relax most of the time. With everything happening , with everything that had happened already , you were constantly on edge. Looking over your shoulder , wondering when the next big wave of disaster would come and wipe you away. You lived in your anxiety , feeling swallowed.

Moments like these were rare. The moments where nothing else mattered. Where you didn’t think of the things that made you sad. Or the things the choices you’d have to make. Your brain felt empty of all things , and it felt so good.

The weed settling in your bloodstream , warming up all those aches and pains that bothered you. Settling the nausea in your stomach and helping you release all those negative energies.

JJ’s presence enveloped you , shielded you from all the bad things the world could create and throw your way. He anchored you to real life , to bring you back to reality when things got too hard. With him , no matter where you were , but especially there— on the beach , in the designated spot the two of you had claimed , was easily your safest and comfiest place.

You were snapped out of your trance , humming when you felt JJ’s calloused fingertips trace over the skin of your face gently. Your eyes fluttered open , looking up at him as he stared at you. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was messy— and looking at him caused your heart to lurch , to feel all the good things being in love could make you feel.

“What’re you thinking about?” JJ questioned , pinching at the scrunched part of your nose.

“You.” You answered softly , reaching up to mirror his actions. Your hands felt every detail of his face , memorizing the way they felt so you’d never forget him , never forget how soft and beautiful he looked even if you’d go blind and never see it again— you’d remember him in the purest part of your soul.

Your answer made him blush , a sheepish smile on his face as he captured your hand and kissed the palm to hide his embarrassment. “Me?!”

“You.”

“About how sexy and hot I am?” JJ joked , making you giggle.

“No.” You shook your head. Sitting up , you crossed your legs and turned to face him , lazily draping your arms around his shoulders. You leaned into him , kissing at his lips softly. He tasted of weed and stale beer , a hint of caramel from the sundae the two of you shared earlier. JJ kissed you back , falling into the way your lips molded with his in it’s own perfect way. Feeling like finding the missing piece to a puzzle you had been working on for years.

“I was just thinking about how I feel.” You said once you pulled away , cupping his cheeks. “How I always feel so safe , so comfortable.” You felt as though your heart was singing. Every book you read , every movie you watched that you used to complain about how cliche they were , how a love like that was only ever in fiction. But it was real , and it was now and you felt JJ heal every part of you that you didn’t know needed healing. He took the bad parts of you and loved them anyway.

Your words had caused a dull ache in JJ’s chest. Not the ache that hurt , but the kind that settled there. The kind he’d only ever feel for you , about you. He always felt like you deserved more because he only had so much to give— but he had never felt more right for you right now. Because to know that you had been able to find safety within in was worth way more than anything money could buy. Hearts swirled in his eyes as he stared at you , taking a mental screenshot of you with your beauty raw— eyes hooded and red , face bare with soft imperfections littered around the skin.

“I feel the same about you.” JJ told you softly , a sweet grin on his face. “I can be whoever I am , in the deepest parts of me that I’m too scared for anyone else to see. You make me feel seen.”

It was just you and JJ there on that beach , under the stars that watched two lovers fall in love over and over again , for as long as they could. For as long as the world allowed.

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danikamariewrites · 5 months

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i took a look at my room and started fantasizing ab azriel as usual. And it got me thinking ab his room aesthetic blended w his mate who is super girly. Like pink covers, satin pillows, baby pink everything. And imagine az with a mate who moves into his room and starts to bring in her own stuff, and he one day walks in and his dark room has pink bedsheets with the cutest stuffed animals. And to the right side of his bed are the weapons he uses to kill enemies. Like the sudden change in aesthetics is comical. He doesn’t even mind he just loves it, he’d ofc never let anyone else in his room, but his mate? yeah she can do whateverrr she wants in here. Could I please request this? Maybe the ic walk past his room and sees pink cutesy girly stuff and their jaw drop

Combined Aesthetics

Azriel x reader

A/n: I think this is so adorable. He would love the pink and all your stuff in his room and have heart eyes every time he sees you sitting on the bed that’s now the bed you share 😍

Warnings: none

You and Azriel have two very different aesthetics as you lovingly pointed out at the start of your relationship. While he gravitated more towards darker and minimal decor you preferred colorful and cozy.

At the start of your relationship Azriel mostly stayed the night at your apartment. He said he was comfortable there, plus he liked all your little knick knacks and decor. Your place felt like home to him. It’s a safe space for him and he feels at peace with you. A warm feeling always rising in his chest when his with you.

Even though his home is with the IC and his permanent room is at the River House with everyone else he can’t help but think of you as home. The first time you stayed the night in his room was when you met the IC. Azriel invited you over to finally meet his family who you became instant friends with which made Azriel very happy to see his two worlds no longer be separated.

Cassian grilled you immediately about your relationship of course. You joke back and forth with him and Rhys making Azriel smile. You and Nesta clicked instantly as well. And you were planning on spending time with each of them already. And of course Nyx stole your heart. The little boy clung to you instantly, wanting you to play with him all night.

Once dessert wound down the two of you headed up to his room. Azriel stopped outside the door gripping the handle so hard his knuckles turned white. You rest your hand on his to get his attention. Az looks at you like he forgot you were there for a second.

He felt like a teenager bringing a female to his bedroom for the first time and mother above did it feel nerve wracking. Az wasn’t nervous for you to stay the night. Truthfully he was embarrassed by how bare and dark his room is compared to yours.

“Hey, you ok baby?” He nods, “Yeah it’s just…I want you to feel at home here.” You sweetly smile up at your boyfriend. “Of course I will Azzy. It’s your room how could I not?” He nods stiffly and pushes the door open. You walk in first, Az follows and turns on the lights.

You stop to take in your new surroundings. Your heart broke at how empty his room is. You knew Azriel was minimal about how much space he takes up, but even in his own room? His personal space? It felt a little cold like his shadows.

The floor was wood, no carpet anywhere. Just a large velvet arm chair and foot rest by the fireplace. A simple clock on the mantle. Thick black curtains cover the floor to ceiling windows and balcony doors. His bed was simple. A black duvet with two pillows resting against the headboard. You were positive that if you pulled the cover back you’d find black sheets as well.

Tears pricked your eyes. You know the reason why too. Which broke your heart even more. It was the same reason why it took you months to convince him to have a section of your closet and a drawer in your dresser. Azriel never wanted to be a burden and take up too much space.

It had been minutes since you moved. Azriel was starting to get concerned. He turned you by your shoulders, instantly becoming concerned by your tears. You answer the heartbreaking look on his face with your own question, your voice coming out small, “why don’t you have anything?”

Azriel just shrugged. You pulled him into a tight loving embrace. Az rubs small circles on your back. “It’s ok love. I have enough. I don’t need material things, not when I have you.” He gently brushes the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears.

You nod giving him a small smile. “I love you so much Az.” “I love you too sweetheart.” He kisses the top of your head, leading you to bed.

——

A year later Azriel asked if you would move in with him. The mating bond had snapped and been accepted and he couldn’t handle the distance from you. Besides, you wanted out of your tiny apartment. This was just a stepping stone until you got a house for yourselves.

“Make yourself at home love. This is your room too, put anything wherever you want.” Your eyes light up at the opportunity to make Azriel’s room homey.

You put your two snow globes from the Winter Court on the mantle next to some other souvenirs you picked up from your travels. You even found stuff Az got from missions in a closet, adding it next to your stuff. A marble vase now sat on a low laying table in front of the hearth. And your pink fluffy arm chair sits across from Azriel’s velvet one.

When he helped you move it in he asked if you wanted to buy matching chairs to which you said no. You love the vast difference in style and want to keep it that way. You said mismatched items made his room feel homey. You wouldn’t say no to buying a carpet though.

A month later Azriel came home from a mission before dinner. He wanted a bath and a nap. Opening the door he found you snuggled up in his large arm chair, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket reading a book.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the ridiculous amount of decorative pillows on the bed along with a new duvet, the plush doll from your childhood and the stuffed animal he got you.

You stared at him apprehensively, not knowing if he’ll be happy with this drastic change of color. You never wanted to disturb his space but you couldn’t have the bed so bare. It made you sad.

Azriel walked over to the bed running a scared hand across the white fluffy duvet. His hazel eyes finally met yours and relief flooded your features. Azriel is smiling at the new change. “It’s like your apartment. I loved everything in there, it was homey. I’m glad you got this.” You clapped your hands in excitement, “Yay! Oh and you’re going to love the bathroom. I got new products and added a few candles. Oh! And new towels!”

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as you led him into the bathroom to point out what you purchased.

——

While Azriel was in his meeting with Rhys you were cuddled up in your chair waiting for him to come back. You had been sitting in his lap while he worked and desperately wanted his warmth back. Now that winter had settled in you were constantly shivering.

Another chill runs down your spine as you unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders. Padding across the bedroom you head down to the kitchen for some hot chocolate, leaving the door ajar.

Cassian whistled while walking down the hall to his room. He glanced sideways into you and Azriel’s room, stepping a few more paces Cassian freezes quickly, turning around and rushing back to poke his head in. The Generals jaw drops as he takes in the brightness of his brother’s room.

He was never really allowed in Azriel’s room. His brother liked to keep his life private and Cassian respects that. However…the door is open and he isn’t going to miss his one opportunity to look around. After finding the pink sheets, the flowery soaps, and vanilla candles Cassian smirked to himself as he took one last look around before leaving.

Turning to face the doorway he jumped at the sight of Azriel. His shadows flowing angrily around his shoulders and an unpleasant look on his face. “What are you doing in here?” Az asks in a dark yet oddly calm tone. Cassian began to stumble over his words trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get Truthteller chucked at his head.

Azriel moved swiftly, grabbing Cassian by the collar of his leathers. “This is me and my mates room. So why are you in here?” He asked again with a more gruff voice. “I-“

“Az?” Your voice breaks him from his anger with Cassian. Your mate whips around to face you, letting go of Cass. “Hi my love. I was just asking Cass what he’s up to.” “Oh,” you say tilting your head curiously. “What do you think of the new room Cass?” You smile up at him hopeful.

“Uumm,” Azriel nudged him. A reminder that if he was rude Azriel would kill him. “I love it.” He says genuinely. “I always thought Az could use some more color and fluffy stuff in his life.” Cassian shoots Azriel a shit eating grin that you miss as you go to put down your mug on the table.

Still looking at Azriel, Cassian continues speaking, “I love the contrast between Azriel’s weapons just layin’ around and your pink sheets.” Azriel pushes Cassian out, slamming the door in his face. Cassian’s howling laughter reaches your ears through the thick wood.

You give Azriel a questioning look. “He had to leave, things to do and all that.” Az says. You nod and giggle seeing through his silly little lie.

“I’m still really cold, can I sit on your lap again?” You give him a small pout which Azriel melts at. “Always my love. I could never let you be cold.” Az sits in his arm chair holding up your fuzzy blanket, ready to wrap you in it. You settle into his embrace and he leaves small kisses across your forehead. If you two could stay like this all day you would be content.

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luvtak · 13 days

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corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters.

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky.

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him.

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away.

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy.

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there.

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own.

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,”

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story.

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking.

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime.

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity,

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.”

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being.

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.”

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper.

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch.

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy.

#felix fluff #felix x reader #felix scenarios #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee felix #felix

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theemporium · 10 months

Note

Auror!reader goes to Azkaban to drop off a prisoner and her curiosity about what happened to her (ex, but they never broke up) gets the best of her, so she goes up to Sirius’ cell.

this was such a good idea! thank you for requesting!🖤

The temptation had always been there, every single time you visited the prison.

You just never had the guts to act upon it.

Aurors never visited Azkaban anyways, at least not the ones that were usually out in the field like yourself. You were more busy jumping from case to case than to worry about guard rotations on transferring prisoners to the hellhole they would spend the rest of their pathetic lives in.

However, this prisoner was deemed a high risk and the Ministry wanted all hands on deck to get him to the prison, which meant a usual Tuesday out on the streets of London instead became a prison visit.

The job itself was easily done. You didn’t have much hassle and the dementors were civil enough to work with as you deposited the prisoner into his new cell, not bothering to listen to the curses and threats he spat your way.

You had no reason to linger in the prison any longer but something was tugging in your gut, something that was whispering today is the day.

The question had blurted from your mouth before you could even stop yourself.

“Which cell holds Sirius Black?”

You knew the looks your colleagues were giving you were odd and you knew, undoubtedly, it would be gossip in the office for the next few weeks until something more interesting came about but you couldn’t help yourself.

You had thanked the guard who gave you the information and promptly nodded to your colleagues, telling them you’d make your own way back before you headed through the windy, cold staircases of the prison until you reached where you wanted.

You stood outside the door for five minutes, unable to move as you stared at the number. You were too far to look in through the small gap in the door. You didn’t even know what to do when you saw him. You had let your gut lead you this far and now you were alone, unsure what to do.

“Go away, Gus, it’s not funny when you just stand out there!” A voice from inside the cell called out and something in your chest tightened at the voice you hadn’t heard in months—not since he had been thrown in this cell.

“It’s not Gus,” was all you said and everything froze.

At first, Sirius thought he was hallucinating the voice. That he had imagined it all like he had done in the first few weeks of isolation. But then he was scrambling up to his feet and making his way to the door to peek through the small gap and—

You were there.

“Darling.”

Your chest tightened further when you saw his face through the bars. “Sirius.”

Neither one of you said anything, both just taking in the presence of each other. You hadn’t been with Sirius the night of Halloween, instead out on a mission for your department. When you came back, you didn’t find him in your shared apartment anymore, but instead were told he had been locked away in Azkaban for the rest of his life after the crimes he committed.

You never got the chance to say goodbye.

You never got the chance to say anything.

“I—“ you opened your mouth to speak but you didn’t know what to say. You thought you knew him, you thought you knew your Sirius.

But it was hard to remember him when you knew the man in front of you ratted out and practically killed two of your closest friends.

“I wasn’t the secret keeper,” he eventually said and suddenly everything came to a screeching halt.

You frowned. “What?”

“I was never the secret keeper,” he breathed out, like a weight had been lifted off his chest for the first time in months. “James—“ A wince of pain passed across his face before he continued. “James never told me. I was never the secret keeper. He said it would be too obvious.”

To the world, James Potter trusted no one but Sirius Black—his closest friend—with his location.

To the world, it could’ve been no one but Sirius Black.

“Who was it then?” you asked, a bite to your words because a bitter part of you wondered if he was just playing with you.

“Peter,” he sneered. “Peter was the fucking rat. He came after he told that bastard and—“

“You can’t expect me to believe you,” you snapped at him. “Peter is dead.” The words felt bitter on your tongue.

“I’m sure he fucking is,” Sirius scoffed before shaking his head. “You know me, love. You know me. I would’ve never…he…he was my brother.”

And some part of you, deep down, knew he was telling the truth. Or maybe you just wanted to believe him. You weren’t quite sure yourself.

“You’ve locked up the wrong person,” Sirius whispered, his voice breaking as he looked at you with glossy eyes. “He’s still out there.”

You shook your head. “We found his remains, Sirius.”

“All of him?” Sirius questioned and it made you pause.

You didn’t say anything.

Sirius scoffed. “Of course not. Because he’s still alive. The fucker is still alive.”

“I should’ve never come here,” you murmured as you turned on your heel, already walking down the corridor as he called out to you.

“YOU KNOW I AM RIGHT! YOU KNOW I AM TELLING THE TRUTH, DARLING!”

And the worst part was that he was right. You did believe him to an extent, you believed that there was more to the story on the events that took place on that Halloween night.

And you promised yourself you’d work out what happened, even if it meant uncovering the ugly truth of your ex-boyfriend or discovering that he truly was an innocent man in shackles.

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elliespillowprincess · 3 months

Text

SHES MY DRUG

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pt 1

pt 2

pt 3

a/n: this is my first ever (kinda) fic so it kinda sucks and is all over the place.. also this one will be a bit longer than the others! i hope to just make this an ongoing series with no real end? idk yet!!! it’s kinda all over the place

c/w: TIME SKIP??, modern au, reader is in med school, biker!ellie!!, rich!ellie… kinda toxic!ellie? angst, addiction, substance abuse, joel’s death makes an appearance, fluff, fem reader, plus size reader, insecure reader, race of reader not specified, smut, strap-on usage (r!receiving), cum eating, spit?, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), breeding kink, TERRIBLY WRITTEN, not proofread

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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ELLIE WILLIAMS

her name is everywhere now. after leaving your town, her music had blown up more than ever before. 2 years had gone by since the two of you shared your last kiss, and for the first few months the two of you texted constantly.

ellie🤭: how’s my pretty girl?

ellie🤭: hoping to come back soon

tours been getting crazy

ellie🤭:

missing you

it felt like a dream, texting one of the worlds biggest rockstars while she was on tour, her sending photos of her adventures. but all dreams end in you waking up.

you: hey wyd?

you: hoping you’re coming back soon

you: hey ellie?

we haven’t talked in a bit

i miss you.

the dream ended. just like that, you were just another girl. after waiting for replies, you decided to move on. this fantasy wasn’t real, the dream was over. ellie was now famous for hooking up with her fans, videos popping up constantly of her leading them out of her concert and onto her bike, just like she did to you.

you were just another girl.

you graduated university as the top scholar in your small town, liliana just behind you. both of you applied to a med school in new york, both getting accepted. your best friend kept telling you you’ll forget her, but how could you? she was everywhere.

eventually, there were some days you could go by without thinking of her. you decided to quit drinking and smoking, and focus on schooling. you got your pleasure elsewhere; hooking up with whatever girl swiped right on you on tinder that day. they always looked a little like her. if they didn’t have that auburn hair, they had tattoos, if they didn’t have tattoos, they were a musician, etc.

“hey, y/n?” you hear a familiar voice say. “wanna go out tonight? i feel like we haven’t gotten to hangout in ages. you don’t have to drink or anything, promise!” liliana practically begs you. it was true, the two of you hardly had any time outside of schooling to hangout, so hesitantly, you agree. she tells you all about this new club that opened, how its invite only so there won’t be too many people, and how there’s surprise private performers. she got the invite from her boyfriend, and was allowed to bring one extra person: you. you decide to use the rest of your day off prior to your later plans to take an everything shower, shaving and exfoliating your whole body. when you get out, you go to your closet to pick out something to wear, still in your towel. your new wardrobe consisted of mainly business casual clothes and scrubs for lab days, so you push them away and dig through the back of your closet. you go through the pile of clothing, until you hit something hard. you grab it, pulling it into the light. when you realize what it was, you feel lightheaded.

it’s her helmet.

tossing it to the back with a pit in your stomach, you grab three random items of clothing, shutting the door. it was exactly what you wore when you first met her: a lacy cami, short black skirt, and a leather jacket. you threw the outfit on, hoping to cover up the old memories with new ones. after you touched up your makeup, you, andrew, and liliana started pregaming. you didn’t want to overdo it, but you also wanted a small buzz for this intimidating of a club. your plan was to leave around 9, it was 8:47. “i’m actually excited, i haven’t been this excited for an event in a while!” you say to the group, feeling a buzz. the three of you are laughing and talking until you get a notification, indicating the uber was there. driving to the club, the driver put on the radio. of course, it had to be her.

the loud music and sweaty atmosphere of the club made you feel dizzy. the only thing keeping you from running away was a tall girl eyeing you across the room. she had short, dark hair, freckles, and a sour face as she looked at you like prey: your type. after a while, you notice she comes up to you, asking if you want anything to drink. agreeing, you thank her and start talking. “where y’from angel?” she asks. “nowhere near here, i used to live in a small town, goldwhit grove?” she looks at you like you’re crazy, rolling her eyes. “never heard of it. hey wanna get outta here?” you look over to your friends, liliana dancing against andrew, and remember how mad she was last time you ran off with a girl without telling her. “i don’t know i’m here with my frie-“ your sentence was interrupted but the screams of the drunken club goers around you as they all flock to the front. looking over to the stage, you see who they’re going crazy over. and of course,

it’s her.

she was everywhere, it was like you couldn’t escape and forget her no matter how hard you tried. she’s stumbling all over the stage, and slurring her words. bras were being thrown at her, and she just had this stupid look on her face. like she was loving it. she was looking around the crowd, for what you assumed to be a girl to take back to her hotel, she made eye contact with you. it felt like the whole room went quiet, even though it was far from it. you wanted to scream, call her an ass, throw drinks at her. but found another solution. turning to the girl next to you, you began rubbing against her, feeling her biceps as she wrapped her arms around you, kissing your neck. you did all of this while making eye contact with her.

“i.. i um… sorry guys.. can’t-can’t perform t’night.” she says, rushing offstage. this makes you smile, knowing you got under her skin. you continued to dance against the stranger to whatever shitty music the club put on between performers. then, it felt like the world went back into focus, your phone buzzing in your hand waking you up. “hey hold on, gotta take this.” you say, lightly pushing the girl off of you and pulling out your phone.

???: what the fuck is wrong with you

who is that???

answer me y/n i’m not fucking around

the unfamiliar messages creeped you out, so you simply blocked the number and went back to the girl, making small conversation. then, another one.

???: don’t block me

can we talk??

come to the bathrooms

rolling your eyes, you type a response.

you: idk who you are but leave me alone

it’s weird

are u stalking me??

another.

???: please

abiding by this stranger could put you in a life or death situation, but all of the adrenaline from seeing ellie and the alcohol made you lose your senses. “hey, i’ll be right back. gotta use the bathroom.” you tell the stranger, making your way through the crowds into the shitty club bathrooms. as you approach it, it seems oddly quiet for a club bathroom. you walk in, and instantly feel a hand grab your wrist, pulling you in and locking the door. “hey what the fu-“

then you see who it is.

confusion turns to shock, shock turns to anger.

“what the fuck ellie? you really think you can just ditch me for 2 fucking years and just be like ‘surprise! i’m back!’” you yell at her, pushing her away. “i’m not playing your fucking games, i feel dumb for even thinking we had something! had me waiting months for you to reply just for you to get with any groupie you come across?” she’s not saying anything, and it only makes your blood boil even more. “are you just gonna fucking sit there? i’m trying to have a good night! i caught fucking feelings for you, you made me feel like i was worth actually fucking loving, and you just threw it all away!” she just sits there, letting you yell. “fucking say something!” your voice becoming weaker, trying not to cry. looking into her eyes, you can tell she’s on something. they’re red and blown out, she reeks of alcohol and weed.

“you’re wearing the outfit.” she says flatly, looking at your outfit. you laugh, actually laugh at her. the fact you just spilt your heart out and all she can do it’s compliment your physical traits. “oh.. oh my god. you- you got problems ellie.” you say with a huff, pushing her away and heading for the door. “i’m leaving, and i’m gonna go back to a girl that maybe actually gives two fucks about me, unlike you.” reaching for the handle, you feel her grab your waist and pull you to her back. “please, don’t go.” you sigh against her, starting to tear up. “let-lemme go ellie..” you barely try to fight her grip. she doesn’t do anything, just breathes you in. “don’t… don’t go, please.” she says softy against your neck, her voice cracking. it feels like you’re melting.

turning around, you look directly at her. “i want an explanation.” you say, wiping tears from your eyes. “you told me you’d come back, you told me you missed me. where did that all go?” you look at her with doe, tear-filled eyes. she just wraps her hands around your face and admires you. “it.. didn’t go anywhere. jus’ a lot happened okay? i just need you to believe me.” your faces are mere inches away, and she’s staring at you with pleading eyes. “how can i believe you ellie? you’re not even sober.” she just wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in and hugging you.

then you start to hear crying- no, sobbing. she sobs into your shoulder, trying to speak but unable to get words out. she casts her spell on you once again, drawing you in and making you hug her back. “just… just tell me what happened okay?” she’s barely breathing, and you rub her back in an attempt to calm her down. “he- he died!! he fucking died!” she says between cries. “who? who died ellie?” you say softy into her ear. “joel! he- he took care of me i- i- was so mean to him!” she cries against you. “hey, hey it’s okay ellie, just breathe.” after a few minutes of her crying, she starts to breathe slower, eventually pulling back and wiping your face. “can.. can we go somewhere else please?”

it was like déjà vu, being back on ellie’s bike. you had her other helmet at your apartment, so she gave you hers instead. you were honestly scared, she looked intoxicated, but she assured you she was fine to drive. speeding through the streets of new york, you arrive at ellie’s penthouse, of course. the walk into the building in the ride up the elevator is quiet, the only noise coming from ellie sniffling.

unlocking the door on the top floor, she lets you in. the place was trash. liquor bottles, pill bottles, baggies with unknown substances, different girls clothes. you were a little disgusted, but ellie ushered you to her room, which was much cleaner in contrast. you hesitate to sit down, thinking about how many girls fucked her on that bed. “no girls have been in my bed, promise.” you hear her voice say, sitting down.

the two of you just sit there, waiting for the other to speak. she finally gets the nerves to, and starts off. “i just wanna say i’m sorry, y/n. you didn’t deserve any of this.” she looks over at you with hooded eyes and continues. “when he… died, i didn’t know what to do- it was when i was in london.” that was around the time she stopped texting. “i just.. turned to a lot of stuff for comfort. i didn’t know what to do- i know it’s not an excuse..” she stares at you, waiting for a response. “thought about you every fucking day. honestly.” your heart starts to melt. “i don’t expect you to forgive me, but let me make it up to you okay?” you nod silently. this doesn’t feel real. “please say something..” she begs. your eyes meet hers and you just word dump everything that’s been clouding your mind for the past two years.

“look, ellie, i understand where you’re coming from. i just.. i need you to know how much it hurt me, seeing you get with all those other girls, it made me feel ugly. inside and out.” her gaze softens and she unexpectedly pulls you in for a hug. “fuck. i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever fucking seen.” she says, her head buried into your shoulder. “everytime i was with any of those girls, i thought about you. anytime i was anywhere doing anything, i thought about you.” her words contrast her actions, but her soft words and tears make you start to believe her.

you hug her back, the two of you laying down in her bed. it all feels so wrong, but so right, she was like an addiction; she was horrible for you but you just kept going back. she softly rubbed your hair, causing your eyes to feel heavier and heavier until you fall asleep in her arms.

fuck.

you wake up, and the first thing you see is ellie. she’s awake already. she smiles at you, a genuine smile. you on the other hand, look horrified. “goodmorning.” she says, pushing your hair out of your face. “how’d you sleep?” you’re lost for words at this point. you start to remember why you don’t drink anymore. “i.. um.. i gotta use the bathroom.” you mutter before getting up, grabbing your phone from her bedside table, and locking yourself in the bathroom. you open your phone.

lili🦄: wya?

you slipped off again

where’d u go?

hello?

dude don’t do this again

ur freaking me out.

is that u that i just saw leave?

i’m following u

who is that?

where are you going??

dude answer hello??

you reply with a spew of apologies, telling her you’re safe and you’ll be home soon. “y/n?” you hear ellie shout from another room. “i made breakfast!” what the fuck? it was like she was a different person, like nothing that happened in the past actually happened and the two of you were a happy couple. you unlock the bathroom door, creeping into the living room. your jaw dropped, it was spotless.

“wow! you uh.. really cleaned up the space?” she smiles at you, plating what looks like eggs, bacon, and toast. “couldn’t sleep. i know you usually wake up early so i slipped out of bed last night and made it back before you woke up.” she waves you over to the table. “come, eat.” you tiptoe to the table, still in your clothes from the club the night prior. sitting down, ellie sets your plate down, along with some water before sitting herself down across from her. it’s quiet, uncomfortable. she decides to break the silence before you start eating. “i’m done with the pills, y/n.” she says bluntly. it kind of takes you by surprise, not the fact that she’s doing it, but the fact she announced it so bluntly. “gonna better myself. better myself for you, us.” she says. her words almost feel like knives to your heart, why was she changing all of this now? “i know it’s late, but i want to be better.” you put a piece of bacon in your mouth, swallowing before speaking. “i’m glad, ellie.” you say softly. the meal remains quiet, but its shifts from an uncomfortable to a comfortable silence.

“hey, i have to go home, can you text me please? for real this time.” you say half heartedly. she puts your dishes away in the sink, nodding. “i’ll take you home, don’t want you in those ubers, they’re not safe.”

the next few months consisted of you texting ellie, again. but this time, she came back very often. as soon as a show ended, she’d be on the next flight to new york to see you.

ellie🧸: boarding the plane rn

can’t wait to see u :)

both of your schedules were tight, but you still worked in time to see each other. ellie often cancelled entire shows just to see you, losing all that money. but she didn’t care, she just wanted you to be happy.

you: i miss youuuu

when r u coming back?

ellie🧸:

rn tbh

it felt like a dream once again, but this time, you had a feeling she wasn’t gonna let go. you hoped she wouldn’t. the two of you hung out constantly, going to her shows and being in the first row, her singing directly to you. going on walks at times square, ellie wearing a mask to hide her face of course. and sleepovers at each others apartments. liliana kept telling you to be careful, to not get hurt again.

not only were you guys talking again, but she was making it very apparent to her fans. saying things like “this one’s for my girl, she’s watching at home. see you soon, sweetheart” before playing love songs. even though you guys weren’t official- you haven’t even kissed since your last one almost 3 years ago- she sure acted like it. she was almost always sober, only ever smoking weed or having small amounts of alcohol before performing to lighten her nerves: never with you.

you were going over your neuro notes in your room, when ellie calls you, and you pick up.

you: “hey! what’s up?”

ellie: “i just got off the plane, gonna pick you up in 30 kay? wear something nice pretty girl, we’re going out.”

you: “what? where?”

ellie: “just be ready, kay? mwah i gotta go!”

the call ends and you laugh at how dumb ellie was, making kissing sounds. you quickly get up to find something to wear and throw on some makeup. you didn’t know how fancy you had to be, so you stuck with a tight black dress, black heels, and the necklace made out of pure gold ellie bought for you a couple weeks ago.

ellie🧸: come outside

her text makes your heart skip a beat, and you go out to see ellie standing next to a car. from your knowledge, she didn’t own any cars; just bikes. she was wearing a fucking suit: white button up that she of course didn’t button up all the way, black pants and jacket, and her dumb converse that completely contrasted the outfit. she smiled when she saw you. “ellie? what’s this?” you laugh, going up to hug her and smell her cologne. “y’like it? had it delivered earlier today before i got home for tonight!” she says with a coy smile. you let out a breathy laugh at the fact she can just buy such an expensive car for no good reason.

“it’s gorgeous, ellie.” you smile at her and she pushes herself off the car, turning around to open the passenger side. crawling in, you admire the inside. it was all black, with silver accents and a large carplay module. the passenger side had some photos of the two of you, and your name was engraved into the dashboard. it looked engraved by the fucking manufacturers.

she shuts your door, walking to the drivers seat, plopping inside. “whatcha think? paid a pretty penny for them to customize that.” she looks at you nervously, hoping you’ll like it. “oh ellie, you didn’t have to do this! you’re so sweet.” she smiles. “i’m glad you like it, babe.” she presses the button to turn the car on, and it unleashes a loud roar. as if she couldn’t get any hotter, the car was a manual, and she knew very well how to use one. the two of you leave the parking lot of your apartment complex, speeding through the buildings. you can help but stare at her, as you never got to see her face when she was on her motorcycle. she was focused; shifting gears strategically without stalling. you just stare at her face, her slightly unbuttoned shirt, her hands: your face becomes warm. “something wrong?” her voice snaps you out of it, noticing you’re staring.

“oh um- i’m fine! sorry..” you laugh quietly. “it’s okay to stare y’know? i stare at you all the time.” she says simply. god, she says everything with no fear. “where are we going?” you ask, curiously. “uhh i think it’s called masa’s sushi bar? heard it was really nice.” your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “WHAT??” you ask her, dumbfounded. “ellie that’s like $600 a person!! i can’t afford that right now i-“ “i got it, don’t worry ‘bout it kay?” she interrupts you. “ellie i don’t need to be taken out to nice places- id love to just sit in one of our apartments and watch cartoons.” you start feeling bad.

“you deserve it, let me take you out okay?” you put your head down, feeling terribly guilty. “hey, don’t feel bad okay? this is what i want to spend my money on.”

the two of you arrive at the restaurant, and before you can open your door, ellie screams “WAIT!” before jumping out her side and running to your door, opening it for you with a smile, reaching her hand out. you can’t help but laugh. “you’re such a nerd, ellie!”

the dinner consisted of the two of you laughing at each other, almost getting kicked out a few times for your loud behavior. “ellie! be quiet! that guy has come over a million times to tell you to be quiet!” you say in a loud whisper. when the check comes, you see the total and feel like vomiting. “$2,457?? ellie you’re crazy! i feel so bad let me give you someth-“ you try to pull your empty wallet out but she stops you, “i got it, don’t worry okay?” she tips the workers a large amount and gets up to grab your purse, and walk you out. walking to the car, she opens your door, handing you your purse before getting in herself.

“i have one more surprise, we’re going back to mine tonight.” she says while starting the car. “another? seriously ellie i dont want you spendi-“ “nuh uh, don’t wanna hear it. you deserve this okay?”

the ride home was fast, and filled with tension. you were nervous for what else ellie had in store for you. arriving at her penthouse, she lets you out and leads you to the elevator. you’re shifting nervously on your feet, and she notices. “what’s wrong?” she asks you, stepping a little closer. “i’m nervoussss! what is the surprise?” “gotta wait, sweetheart.”

arriving at her door, she opens it and holy shit. it was covered in flowers, slow music playing in the background. you followed the trail of flowers to the dining room table: the place the two of you spent countless meals together just basking in eachother presence. on the table, was a small white box. you lift it up, having no clue what could be inside. “open it, princess.” she says with a goofy, excited smile. you open the box, and oh my god. it was a gorgeous golden necklace, with an “E” attached to the chain. it wasn’t obnoxious, it was beautiful.

“ellie! what is this?! it’s so pretty!” you smile at her, hugging her. “do- do you like it?” “like it?? ellie i love it!!” you say into her shoulder. the two of you hug for a moment before she pulls you back, pulling a necklace out with your initial on it from under her shirt. everything feels electric, fuzzy, and warm. “let me help you put it on.” she says, gently grabbing the necklace out of the box. you turn around, lifting your hair, allowing her to clip the necklace around your neck. you turn around to look at her, and she adjusts it so it sits centered on your neck.

“you’re so pretty.” she just stares at you for a moment, admiring your features. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them again before asking,

“can i be your girl?”

it felt like you were floating. her cologne was filling your nose, her eyes searching for an answer in yours.

“i know it’s a lot to ask- i just- i really like you y/n and-“

she’s cut off by you pressing your lips against hers, wrapping your hands in her hair. her eyes stayed open for a moment before the closed, kissing you deeper. she wrapped her arms around your waist, wanting to feel you closer. the two of you stayed there for a moment before you pulled away with tears brimming your eyes.

“yes, yes i’ll be your girl ellie!” you say, laughing deeply and throwing your head back as she places playful kisses along your jaw. “fuck yes, yes!!” she says, laughing with you. the two of you just stand in the dining room for a bit, gently kissing one another before you pull back, leading her to the bedroom.

you grab the collar of her shirt, pulling her ontop of you, kissing her deeply. the two of you spend about 15 minutes just enamored with one another’s mouth, when she notices you squirming, pulling back. “what’s wrong baby?” she asks, innocently. “s’hot ellie..” you say, mascara running and your cherry lipstick smudged. she smiles, dipping down to suck on your neck, leaving dark marks, running her tongue over them to soothe the pain. her lips travel down, meeting the top of your dress. “can i take this off for you?” you nod immediately. “gotta tell me with your words, princess.” you whimper at her request, obliging. “yes.. yes you can take it off els.”

“good girl.” she gently removes your dress, followed with your bra and underwear, leaving you naked under her. “so pretty, my gorgeous girl.” she coos. she begins kissing down your collarbone, and to your chest. she looks up at you as she practically makes out with your boobs, giving equal attention to both of them. she lifts her head, looking at you with lust filled eyes as she steps off the bed to undress, completely naked. you’re practically drooling, looking at her toned abs, perky tits, and the freckles that litter her body. she goes back up to kiss you, before asking, “are you still sure? “fuck- yes fuck els- just… please”

“okay, baby.”

the speaker in the living room begins playing Let the Light in by Lana Del Rey. she lifts your leg, allowing it to limply lay over her shoulder as she slowly lowers her cunt over yours. the sudden contact causes both of you to let out a breathy moan before she begins grinding against you. “so pretty, my pretty baby..” you can barely respond, the feeling of her cunt directly on yours making you dizzy. it feels so intimate, but so right.

“never.. never leaving your side again you understand?” she says between grunts. “you and me- fuck- forever baby.” she’s grabbing at you: your tits, your hips, kissing your face. the air in your lungs feels like it’s being sucked out. “els… please i- more..” you beg. her pace speeds up, her eyes locked on yours. “gonna… gonna take care of my girl ‘kay?” you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “els… m’gonna cum!!” you moan, grabbing at her arms. “me too- fuck- cum with me baby cmon give it to me.”

and that’s all it takes.

your orgasm rips through you, making your vision blur as hers follows right after, riding both of yours out. the room is filled with moans, squelching, and grunts as you both come down from your high. she collapses beside you, kissing you softly and cuddling you. she pulls away for a minute to just admire you. “y/n i.. i love you.” she says, smiling nervously. you can’t help but giggle as you pull her in closer, saying,

“i love you ellie williams.”

1 year later

you were getting ready for ellie’s private concert, wearing the same outfit you wore when she asked to be yours. it was your anniversary, and she was gonna take you out to a nice dinner followed by a surprise after the show was over. “baby? you ready?” you hear your girlfriend say, walking over to her to show her your outfit. “oh my goddd” she gawks over you. “look at my princess.” she says, grabbing your ass as she pulls you in for a messy kiss.

you two were late for her concert.

your heart was so full watching your girlfriend perform onstage. you were right up front, catching each others eye constantly. the sound of squealing girls around you threatened to drown out ellie’s singing. you look around, growing insecure at all the girls throwing themselves at ellie. she was smiling, enjoying the crowd and attention. girls were flashing her, holding up provocative signs. normally it didn’t get to you, but tonight it did.

finishing the concert, ellie’s bodyguards escort you to join her backstage. ellie notices your mood, and asks what’s wrong. “nothing ellie, jus wanna go home.” you reply blankly. “okay.. okay let’s go home yeah?”

arriving at her house, you walk to her bedroom, plopping yourself on her bed. she follows close behind after setting down her bag. “what’s on your mind, you seem sad?” she asks innocently. “the fact all those girls throw themselves at you! i mean, i don’t usually get so insecure, i know you love me jus…” you choke on your tears. “they’re so pretty, els. scared you’re gonna leave me for one of them y’know? i know im not the prettiest, i don’t have the best body-“ ellie cuts you off, jointing you on her bed. “hey, hey. don’t say that okay? you know i only have eyes for you.” she says softly, kissing your forehead. “you’re the most beautiful girl in this world, love. your body is beautiful.” she kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

it was like all your insecurities flew out the window. the two of you were laying on her bed, kissing each other softly. “m’sorry i ruined your surprise.” you say sadly. “hey, you didn’t ruin anything okay?” she reassures you. “what was the surprise?” her face turns a light shade of pink, stuttering. “we don’t have to- it’s was just if-“ you become more interested in what it was. “cmonnnnn just tell meee!” you say, the curiosity killing you. “are you sure? it’s not- if you’re not in the mood-“ “tell me ellie!” she sighs, grabbing your hand gently and placing it over her crotch. your eyes widen and you instantly feel wetness pool to your cunt.

she bought a strap on.

“we don’t have to, sweet thing. we can ju-“ her sentence is interrupted by you kissing her deeply, spit mixing with one another’s. she sat up so you could sit in her lap, her palming the fat of your ass. the two of you already removed all of your clothing besides underwear, the skin to skin contact making you dizzy. the make out session turned sloppier as minutes went by, and you became needier: grinding against her thigh. she noticed, and inquired you about it. “what’s wrong baby? needy for me?” you nod, almost forgetting ellie always wants you to use your words. “want.. want your cock, ellie.” you say, whimpering in her mouth.

“lay on your back, lemme do all the work.”

she helps you pull your underwear down your legs, followed by her boxers just after: causing the strap on to bounce out and fuck was it big. probably 7 inches, extremely thick and a dark shade of purple. you practically drool at the sight of your naked girlfriend in front of you, all strapped up. “gotta make sure you’re ready first, okay baby?” she tells you, gently pushing her fingers into your wet hole. “your so fuckn’ wet, baby. i do this?” you nod aggressively, making her add a second finger. “cmon, mama, gotta tell me with your words, how else will i know?” you loved when she was demanding, it usually only happened when she becomes really possessive.

“yes ellie- fuck! yes it you that made- made me this wet!” you say between moans. after a few minutes, she pulls her fingers out. “suck.” she demands. you oblige, taking her long digits in your mouth and sucking every last drop off. “y’ready? i’m gonna go slow okay?” she says whilst gently pushing the tip in. she goes slow, waiting for you to ask for more before she goes deeper. once she’s all the way in, she’s drooling at the sight of you swallowing the silicone. “can feel you squeezing my cock, baby. fuckkk look at her.” she presses your thighs to your stomach, ensuring she can get as deep as possible. then, it’s like the world is on fire.

she starts pounding into you animalisticlly, watching the ring of white forming at the base of her fake cock. she leans down to suck on your tits, sloppily making out with them as you scratch her back up with your long nails. this time, it isn’t slow or gentle. it’s hot and fast. needy. most of the time, she coos you through your orgasm, going slow and gentle. times like this, however, it’s like she has her mind set on one thing: making you finish. her words become more vulgar.

“fuckkkk look at that pretty pussy baby, she’s just taking all of me huh?”

“all. fucking. mine.” between thrusts.

“can see it poking through your stomach, sweetheart.”

“gonna fill you up, mama. carry my kids?”

the last line makes you moan loudly, as you didn’t know it was something you liked. she smiles, continuing her pace, out of breath. “yeah baby? you like that? want me to fill you to the fuuuuckin brim? dirty girl.” she makes out with you sloppily, drool dripping down your faces. “ellie.. ellie fuck i’m gonna cum!!”

little did you know: she was too.

the base of the strap had been rubbing perfectly against her clit, her pace speeding to make the two of you finish.

“fucking cum all over me- fuck- cream my fucking cock baby. fuckkk”

the two of you scream out, as your orgasms rip through at the same time. all you can hear is ellie saying “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou!!” as you come undone, her fucking you through every last bit of your orgasm. she collapses next to you, pulling out. you whimper at the feeling of emptiness. “i love you so much.” she says, wrapping her hand around your waist basking in the skin to skin contact. “i love you, els.” she kisses you softly, rubbing your plump hips.

“i love you most sweetheart, happy anniversary.”

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #rockstar ellie #ellie x plus size reader #ellie x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie x reader #ellie fluff #ellie angst

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suddencolds · 2 months

Text

The Worst Timing | [5/5]

we made it!!! part 5/5 + a mini epilogue (5.6k words) at long last 🥹 (aka the installment in which i remember that h/c has a c in it in addition to the h, haha.) [part 1] is here!

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written w these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

The world comes back to him in pieces—first the wooden panels of the ceiling, the sloped wooden beams. The coldness of the room, the slight, monotonous whir of the air circulating through one of the vents overhead.

He’s leaned up against the wall, seated on the floor in the hallway, and Vincent is kneeling beside him, his eyebrows furrowed.

It takes him a moment to realize where he is. He had been about to head back to the courtyard, hadn’t he? He doesn’t have much memory of anything that happened after, but judging by Vincent’s reaction, he thinks he can probably guess.

“Hi,” Yves says, for lack of a better thing to say.

He watches a complicated set of expressions flicker through Vincent’s face—relief, first, before it turns to something distinctly less neutral.

“You’re awake,” Vincent says. He turns away, for a moment. Yves notes the clench of his jaw, the tightness of his grip—his fingers white around Yves’s sleeve.

“Was I out for long?”

“A couple minutes.”

Yves wants to say something. He should say something. Anything to lighten the tension, anything to get the point across that this is all just an unlucky miscalculation, on his part. It really isn’t something Vincent should have to be worried about.

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he starts. Really, what he means is, I’m sorry for making you worry about me. “I promise I’mb fine.”

The look on Vincent’s face, then, is something that Yves hasn’t seen before.

“Why do you have to—” he starts, frustration rising in his voice. He sighs, his jaw set. “I don’t understand why you—” He drops his hand from Yves’s sleeve, and it’s then when Yves notices the stiffness to his shoulders, the tension in his posture. He runs a hand through his hair, lets out another short, exasperated breath. “You’re not fine.”

It’s strange, Yves thinks, to see him like this—Vincent, who usually never wears his emotions on his face, looks clearly displeased, now.

“Hey,” Yves says, softly. He reaches out to take Vincent’s hand. Vincent goes very still with the contact, but he doesn’t say anything. “I—”

Fuck. His body seems to always pick the worst time for unwanted interjections. He wrenches his hand away just in time to smother a sneeze into his sleeve, though it’s forceful enough to leave him slightly lightheaded.

“Stay here,” Vincent says, getting to his feet. “Lay down if you get dizzy again.”

Yves blinks. “Where are you going?”

“To tell the others that we’re leaving.”

Yves wants to protest. Dinner is already halfway over. It’s not as if the festivities are particularly strenuous. They’ll probably move inside after dinner, where it’s warmer.

But he thinks better of it. Judging by how exhausted he still feels, how much his head aches, it probably wouldn’t be wise to push it.

“Don’t tell them about this,” he says.

Vincent’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“Aimee is going to worry if she finds out,” Yves says, dropping his head to his knees. He doesn’t want to look at Vincent, doesn’t want to know what expression is on his face. “Just—let them have this night. It’s—supposed to be perfect.” I really wanted it to be perfect, he almost adds. There’s a strange tightness to his throat as he says it, a strange heaviness to his chest.

He knows what it means. If, after he’s tried so hard to do his part, their evening still ends up ruined on his own accord, he’s not sure if he could live with himself after.

For a moment, Vincent doesn’t say anything at all.

“Okay,” he says, at last. “Just stay here.”

And then he heads down the hallway. The door at the end of the reception hall swings shut behind him. Yves thinks he should be relieved, but he finds that he doesn’t feel much other than exhausted.

—

The ride home on the shuttle is silent. Vincent sits next to him, even though all of the other seats are empty. Yves thinks the proximity is probably inadvisable. He opens his mouth to say as much, and then shuts it.

Vincent sits and stares straight ahead, his posture stiff, and doesn’t say anything for the entirety of the ride. It’s strange. Yves is no stranger to silence—Vincent is, after all, a coworker, and Yves has endured more than a few quiet elevator rides and quiet team lunches at the office, but it’s strange because it’s Vincent.

Vincent, who usually takes care to make conversation with him, whenever it’s just the two of them. Vincent, who stayed up through the lull of antihistamines a couple months ago to talk to Yves, until Yves had given him explicit permission to go to sleep.

Yves tries not to think about it. Through the haze of his fever, everything feels unusually bright—the interior of the shuttle, with its leather seats and metal handrails.

The shuttle stops just outside the main entrance to their hotel. Just before he gets to the doors, he stumbles. Vincent’s hand shoots out, instinctively, to steady him.

“Sorry,” Yves says, a little sheepishly. It’s not that he’s dizzy. The roads are just uneven, and it’s dark. “I can walk.”

But Vincent doesn’t let go—not for the entirety of the walk through the cool, air-conditioned lobby, through the hallways to the hotel elevators. Not when the elevator stops at their floor, not when they pass by the grid of wooden doors leading up to their room.

Before Yves can manage to reach for his keycard, Vincent has already swiped them in, scarily efficient. He slides the card back into his pocket, pushes the door open.

“Thadks for walking me back,” Yves says. “Sorry you couldn’t stay longer. You mbust’ve been halfway through dinner.”

“I already finished eating,” Vincent says.

“Even dessert?” Yves says. “I think Aimee got everyone creme brulee from one of the local bakeries. I was excited to try it. Maybe Leon can save us some.” he muffles a yawn into his hand. It’s too early to be sleeping, but his pull out bed looks very inviting right now.

“Take the bed,” Vincent says.

Yves blinks at him. “What?”

“The bed’s warmer.”

There’s absolutely no way he’s going to let Vincent take the pull-out bed in his place, Yves thinks blearily. He’s spent the past couple nights muffling sneezes into the covers—if there’s anything he’s certain of, it’s that he really, really doesn’t want Vincent to catch this.

“I dod’t think we should switch,” he says, sniffling. “I’ve been sleeping here ever sidce I started coming down with this. I’mb— hHeh-!” He veers away, raising an elbow to his face. “hh—HHEh’IIDZschH’-iEEW! Ugh, I’mb pretty sure I contaminated it.”

“We can both take the bed, if you’d prefer,” Vincent says. As if it’s that simple.

Yves opens his mouth to protest—is Vincent really okay with sharing a bed with him?—but then he thinks about Vincent finding him in the hallway—the stricken expression on his face, then, his eyes wide, his jaw clenched—and thinks better of himself.

Instead, he lets Vincent lead him to the bedroom. The bed is neatly made—the covers drawn, the pillows propped up against the headboard.

“Lay down,” Vincent says, pushing lightly down on his shoulders. Yves sits. He peels off his suit jacket, folds it, and sets it aside on the nightstand.

“Hey, I kdow that was sudden,” he says, in reference to earlier. “I’mb sorry you had to witness it. I… probably shouldn’t have pushed it.”

Vincent says nothing, to that.

Yves lays down, shuts his eyes. “You didn’t have to accompady me home, you know.”

Silence. He exhales, burrowing deeper into the covers. “It’s not as bad as it looks, seriously.”

He opens his mouth to say more. He has to say something, he thinks, to convince Vincent that it’s really not that big of a deal. Anything, to assuage that look on Vincent’s face.

But he’s so tired. He can feel the exhaustion now that he’s finally let himself lay down. The bed is traitorously comfortable, with its soft feather pillows and its fluffy layers of blankets, and Vincent was right—it really is warmer.

He feels the press of a hand on his forehead, feels the cold, unyielding pressure. Feels gentle, calloused fingers brush the hair out of his face.

“Sleep,” Vincent says, firmly.

And Yves—

Yves, already half gone, is powerless, when Vincent says it like that.

—

When he wakes, it’s just barely bright outside. He takes it in—the first few rays of sunlight, streaking through the curtains. The bed, a little more well-cushioned than the pullout bed he’d spent the past few nights on—higher up and decisively sturdier. He blinks.

Beside him, seated on a chair he recognizes as belonging to the desk at the opposite end of the room, is Vincent.

Vincent, awake. Yves isn’t sure if he’s slept at all. He certainly doesn’t look tired, at first glance, but closer inspection reveals a little more. It’s evident in the way he holds his shoulders, stiff, and perhaps a little tired, as if there’s been tension sitting in them all night.

He’s reading a book. Whether he bought it at the convenience store downstairs, or on one of the other days when Yves was busy running errands for the wedding and Vincent was elsewhere, or whether it’d been sitting in his suitcase since the start of the vacation, Yves doesn’t know.

“How’s the book?” Yves says.

His throat is dry, he realizes, for the way it makes him cough, afterwards. Vincent’s eyes meet his, unerringly. He shuts the book, sets it down on the bedside table.

“It’s a little boring,” Vincent says. “How’s the fever?”

Before Yves can answer, Vincent leans forward and presses the back of his hand to Yves’s forehead. His touch is unerringly gentle, and Yves allows himself to look.

Vincent’s eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, and Yves wonders, suddenly, if he’s been this worried for awhile, now. If he’s been this worried ever since he’d walked them both back into the hotel room last night.

“I’m fine,” Yves says.

It has the opposite effect he intends it to.

Vincent’s expression shutters. “The last time you said that, you passed out in front of me,” he says, withdrawing his hand with a frown. “So forgive me if I don’t entirely believe you.”

Yves sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. It’s a fair point. “I’m usually more reliable whed it comes to these things.”

“What things?”

“Kdowing my limits.”

Vincent says, “I think you knew your limits. I think you just didn’t want to honor them, because you decided the wedding took precedence.”

He’s… frustrated, Yves realizes. Still. He’s sure he can guess why. Their fake relationship does not extend to Vincent having to look after him, to Vincent having to drop everything in the middle of a wedding, of all things, to take him home. To Vincent having to worry about all this—the fever Yves knows he has, now, and the bed he’s currently taking up—on top of everything else. As if being in a foreign country, surrounded by people he knows almost exclusively through Yves, who, for the most part, converse in a language he barely speaks, wasn’t already enough work on its own.

And Yves gets it. He hadn’t wanted this to happen, either. He’d told himself that if this—this pretend relationship, this pretense—is contingent upon both of them playing their part, the least he can do is be self-sufficient outside of it.

But now—because Vincent is here with him, and because they share a hotel room—all of this is now Vincent’s problem, too, by extension.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asks.

Vincent smiles at him, a little wryly, as if the answer is evident.

“You gave up your bed just for me to steal it,” Yves says, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s really comfortable, and all, but I’mb pretty sure they make these kinds of beds for two.”

“Is that a proposition?” Vincent says.

“Maybe.” Yves thinks it through. “Realistically, probably ndot, until I have a chance to shower.” He’s still dressed in his dress shirt and slacks from yesterday, a little embarrassingly—he should probably get changed. “Speaking of which, I should do that soon, so you don’t feel the need to stay up all night reading—” Yves leans forward, squints at the book cover on the nightstand. “—Hemingway? Somehow, I didn’t expect you to be the type.”

“I’m not,” Vincent says. “Victoire lent it to me.”

“Oh,” Yves says, trying to think of when Vincent would’ve had time to ask her for a recommendation. “Yeah. She’s—” He twists aside, ducking into his elbow. “hHEH’IIDzschh-EEW! snf-! She’s quite the literary reader. Is it really that boring?”

“I can see why people think the transparency of his prose is appealing,” Vincent says. “But I’m fifty pages in, and nothing has happened.”

“Isd’t that the sort of thing Hemingway can get away with, since he’s straightforward about it?”

“In a short story, maybe,” Vincent says. Then: “You are trying to make me feel better.”

Ah.

Yves laughs. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”

Vincent just sighs. “I would be exceptionally unobservant not to notice when I’ve seen you do the same thing all this week.”

“What?”

“Telling people that you’re fine,” Vincent says. “And distracting them when they don’t believe you.”

Yves doesn’t think that’s entirely accurate. It’s not like he was trying to be dishonest. It’s just that it was never the most important thing to address.

“Distracting is a bit disingenuous.”

“I don’t get it,” Vincent says, with a frown. “You’re so insistent on putting yourself last, even when you were obviously—” He sighs. There it is—that expression again, the one that makes itself evident through the furrowed eyebrows, the tense set of his jaw—frustration, and maybe something else. “You’re surrounded by people who care about you, so why not just—”

“There are plenty of things more important than how I’mb feeling,” Yves says.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

But of course it is, Yves thinks. A wedding is a once in a lifetime occurrence. An illness is nothing, in the face of that.

“I promised I’d be there,” he says, because when it really comes down to it, it’s true. He had no intention of going back on his word. “I didn’t want to be the one to let them down. Is that so hard to believe?” He reaches up with a hand to massage his temples. His head aches, even though he’s slept for long enough that he feels like it ought to feel a little better, by now. “It’s already bad enough that I had to drag you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into this,” Vincent says. “I came on my own volition.”

Yves tries a laugh, but it’s humorless. “I made you leave halfway through the wedding dinner.”

“I’d already finished eating.”

“Ndot to mention, you practically had to carry me upstairs.”

“Because you’re ill.”

“That’s no excuse.” Yves wants to say more, but he finds himself beholden to a tickle in the back of his throat—irritatingly present, until he concedes to it by ducking into his elbow to cough, and cough.

When he looks up, blinking tears out of his vision, Vincent isn’t looking at him.

“You should get some rest,” he says, simply.

Yves can tell—just by the way he says it—that there is no argument to him, anymore. Just like that, Vincent is back to being closed off—poised and perfectly, infuriatingly unreadable, just like he is at work, his face so carefully a mask of indifference, even in the most stressful presentations, the most frustrating disagreements. Yves wants none of it.

“Hey,” he says. A part of him itches to crack a joke, to change the subject—anything to take away this air of seriousness. A part of him wants to reach out, again—to take Vincent’s hand, entwine their fingers; to reassure him, again, that he’s really fine.

“I’m sorry,” he says, instead. Maybe it’s the fever that loosens his tongue. Maybe it’s just a combination of everything.

He can feel Vincent’s eyes on him, still. Vincent has always held a sort of intensity to him, a quiet sort of perceptiveness. “I’m not sure I follow,” Vincent says.

“This visit was supposed to be fun for you,” he says. “And now you’re here, stuck in the hotel room because of me, even though today was supposed to be for sightseeing.”

It doesn’t feel like enough. What can he say to make it enough? There’s a strange ache in his chest, a strange, crushing pressure. Yves is horrified to find his eyes stinging. He’s held it together for so long, he thinks. Why now? Why, when Vincent is right here?

But a part of him knows, too. Of course traveling to a different country would be more involved than going to a party, or spending an evening at a stranger’s house. But there was a time when he thought this could really just be a fun excursion for the both of them—half a week in his family’s home country, with someone who he thoroughly enjoys spending time with.

And now, because of this untimely illness—or because of his own short-sightedness in managing it—it isn’t. He didn’t get to stay through dinner, didn’t get to wish Aimee and Genevieve a good rest of their night, like he’d planned to. He has no idea if things went smoothly in his absence. To make matters worse, Vincent is here, having endured a sleepless night, instead of anywhere else.

And really, when he thinks about it, who does have to blame for all of this, except himself?

“I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this,” he says. “So I’m sorry.” He resists the urge to swipe a hand over his eyes—surely, he thinks, that would give him away.

He turns away. It’s convenient, he thinks, that the embarrassing sniffle that follows could be attributed to something else.

“You’ve been nothing but accommodating to me, this whole visit,” Vincent says. “If anything, I should’ve insisted that you take the bed earlier. You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

He says it with such certainty. Yves opens his mouth to protest this—or to apologize, for all the times he must’ve kept Vincent up, including but not limited to last night—but Vincent presses on.

“You spent all of yesterday morning helping everyone get ready, and when I got back, you apologized for not being around—as if the reason why you weren’t around wasn’t that you were so busy making sure everything was fine for everyone else.” Vincent pauses, takes in a slow, measured breath. Yves is surprised to hear that he sounds… distinctly angry, in a way that Yves is not used to hearing.

“And then you showed up to the rehearsal and the wedding, even though you weren’t feeling well. And you still think you have something to apologize for? Are you even hearing yourself?” Yves hears the creak of the chair as he stands, the sound of quiet footsteps. Feels the dip of the bed as Vincent takes a seat at the edge of it.

“You know, after you left the dinner table, Genevieve was talking about how much she liked your speech? Do you know that yesterday morning, Solaine told me how grateful she was that you helped her with fixing her dress? Do you know that when I got lunch with Leon and Victoire, they told me how much time you spent preparing for everything—the speech, and the wedding, both?”

Oh. Yves hadn’t known any of those things, and he knows Vincent isn’t the kind of person who would lie about this sort of thing.

“I don’t get it,” Vincent says, sounding distinctly pained to say it. “How could you possibly think that you haven’t done enough?”

Yves finds himself taken aback—by the frustration in his voice, by the fact that Vincent has noticed these things in the first place, by the fact that he’s deemed them important enough to take stock of. He makes it sound so simple.

“I don’t know,” Yves says, at last. He shuts his eyes. “If it was enough.”

“I’m telling you that it was,” Vincent says.

But Yves knows that he could have done more, if the circumstances were different. If he hadn’t been so out of it during the wedding. If he’d taken the necessary precautions to avoid coming down with this in the first place. If he’d been able to stay through dinner, at least; if he hadn’t needed Vincent to accompany him home.

“You don’t believe me,” Vincent says, with a sigh.

Yves doesn’t say anything, to that.

“I can’t speak for anyone else,” Vincent says. There’s the slight rustling of the covers as he shifts, rearranging one of the pillows at the headboard. “But I had fun.”

Yves’s heart twists.

It’s sweet, unexpectedly. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better,” Yves says.

“When have I ever said anything just to make you feel better?” Vincent says, with a short laugh. When Yves chances a look at him, he’s smiling down at himself. “I mean it. Meeting your family has been a lot of fun. It’s not often that I get the chance to be a part of something like this.”

Whether he’s referring to France, or the wedding and the festivities, or being surrounded by Yves’s large extended family, Yves isn’t sure. But if Vincent is trying to cheer him up, it’s working.

“I can see why you like France so much,” he says, turning his gaze out the window, though the view outside is filtered through the semi-translucent curtains. “It’s beautiful.”

“Today was supposed to be the last day for sightseeing,” Yves says, a little regretful. “But you’re stuck here.”

“In a sunny, luxurious hotel room, with a view of the pool and the garden?” Vincent says, with a scoff. “I could think of worse places to be.”

Staying up all night, just to check up on Yves, more accurately. Vincent must be tired, too—yesterday was already tiring enough. And now it’s morning already, and he hasn’t gotten any sleep.

“Reading Hemingway,” Yves adds.

Vincent looks a little surprised. Then he laughs. “Yes. I guess you’re right. Perhaps it’s an agonizing experience after all.”

The yawn he stifles into his hand, after that isn’t half as subtle as he tries to make it.

Yves feels his eyebrows creep up. “Are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep? There’s plenty of room.” He scoots a little closer to the edge of the bed, just to make a point.

Vincent peers down at the space beside him, a little hesitant. “At 10am?”

“It’d be, what, 4am, back in Eastern time?” Yves says. “By Ndew York standards, you’re supposed to already be asleep.”

“That’s not how it works,” Vincent says, but he dutifully moves a little closer to Yves anyways. He’s changed out of yesterday’s wedding attire, more sensibly, but now he’s wearing a knitted cardigan which Yves thinks looks unfairly, terribly good on him. Yves finds himself marveling at the unfairness of it all. How can someone look so good wearing something so casual?

Vincent smells good, up close. When he lays down next to Yves, pulling the covers gingerly over himself—leaving a careful amount of room between them, but still dangerously, intoxicatingly close—Yves feels his breath catch in his throat.

Vincent is right there, less than an arm’s length away from him, closer than he’s ever been, and Yves—Yves is—

“See,” Yves says, as evenly as he can manage to, in his current state, as if his heart isn’t practically beating out of his chest. He swallows. His throat feels dry. “This bed definitely fits two.”

“I suppose it does,” Vincent says. “Now you can tell me if I’m a terrible person to share a bed with.”

“After everything I’ve put you through,” Yves says, “I think I’d honestly feel reassured if you were.”

Vincent smiles, again, as if he finds this humorous. “Are you sure you’re going to be fine?”

“Positive,” Yves says. “You should sleep. I’ll wake you if I ndeed anything.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” Vincent shuts his eyes.

It’s not long before his breathing evens out, not long before he goes perfectly still. He must really be tired, Yves thinks, with a pang.

Yves, for some reason, finds that he can’t get to sleep. He stares up at the ceiling for what feels like minutes on end, shuts his eyes, all to no avail. Maybe it’s because he’s already slept far more than his usual share. Maybe it’s the jetlag. Maybe it’s merely Vincent’s unusual presence—the strangeness of having him so close, in an environment so intimate.

But when he allows himself to look, he sees—

Vincent, his eyes shut, his eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. From the window, the filtered light gleams unevenly across the crown of dark hair on his head. There’s almost no movement to him at all, aside from the even rise and fall of his shoulders.

And Yves knows what the feeling in his chest is. He’s regrettably, intimately familiar with it.

He just isn’t sure he likes what it means.

—

Vincent—despite falling asleep so quickly—is up before him. When Yves wakes, next, it’s to a hand to his forehead.

“Hey,” Vincent is saying, softly. “Yves. You have a visitor.”

Yves opens his eyes.

He’s feeling—a little better, remarkably. Still feverish, still a little unsteady, but leagues better as compared to yesterday. When he looks over, he sees—

He doesn’t jolt upright, but it’s a close thing. “Aimee!”

He barely has a chance to ask before she’s crashing into him, encircling him in a tight hug. “Yves!” she exclaims, pulling back from him. “How are you feeling? Oh my gosh, when I heard you left early because you were unwell, I was so worried…”

Yves grimaces, turning away. “Sorry, I had every idtention of staying until the end—”

“You came all the way out with the flu!” she says. “I honestly can’t believe you. The fact that you still took the trouble to attend with a fever—”

“It—” Yves starts, but he finds himself twisting away, lifting an arm to his face. “hhEH-! HEEhD’TTSCHH-iiiEEw! Snf-! It’s fide, snf-! I’mb practically recovered already.”

“I should’ve told you not to push yourself when you told me you were coming down with something,” Aimee says, shaking her head. “And you stayed and gave such a lovely speech, even though you weren’t feeling well? When I was talking to Victoire after, she mentioned that you’ve been sick for days and Genevieve—you should’ve said something.”

“I’ll say somethidg next time,” Yves says, a little sheepishly. “Did the wedding go okay?”

Aimee visibly brightens, at this. “It was more than okay,” she says, her eyes gleaming. “It blew every expectation that I had out of the water.”

Aimee fills him in on everything that happened after he left, last night—dessert, the first dance, the cake-cutting; her favorites out of the photos they’d taken after the ceremony (a shot of Genevieve braiding her hair during the cocktail hour; a shot of them leaning in close, for the dance, tired but smiling; a shot of the cake with its multiple tiers, the frosting strung like banners across it; another where both of them are holding onto the cutting knife together and Genevieve looks like she is trying not to laugh; a shot of the bouquet toss, the flowers suspended in mid-air). She tells him about the conversations she and Genevieve had with others about marriage and their futures and their plans for their honeymoon.

Then she lectures him on how he should worry about his health first, next time. She tells him, in no uncertain terms, that she’s fully prepared to give him a piece of her mind the next time he tries to pull something like this. She insists that his health is more important than anything. Vincent stands off to the side the entire time, his arms crossed, passively listening in, but when Yves looks over helplessly, mid-lecture, he definitely looks a little smug.

All in all, she doesn’t seem disappointed in him at all. And, more importantly, she seems happy. Yves finds himself relieved, at this.

Genevieve stops by, too, a little later, to thank him for the advice he’d given her the day before the wedding. She hugs him too, and she leaves him a bag of tea that she promises “is practically a cure to anything—I hope it makes your flight home tomorrow a little more tolerable.” Victoire stops by, with Leon, and Yves resigns himself to more lecturing from the both of them. It’s humbling, a little, to be lectured by his younger sister and his younger brother, though he concedes that perhaps this time, it might be at least partially warranted.

Then Leon opens their hotel fridge to show him the two creme brulees he and Vincent had missed out on, packaged nicely in small paper containers. (“Vincent told me you were interested in these,” he says, and Yves finds himself slightly mortified—but perhaps also a little endeared—that whatever it was that he’d said last night, offhandedly, Vincent had deemed it important enough to text Leon about.)

Later, after Yves showers and gets changed—when he and Vincent eat the creme brulees at the table in the living room, and Vincent tells him that he’s finished the book, perhaps a little masochistically (“it doesn’t get any better,” he says, sounding a little spiteful)—Yves finds himself smiling.

He’s happy, he realizes, despite everything that’s happened. Even with the slight headache, and the lingering congestion, the fever that hasn’t quite gone away entirely. The revelation comes as a surprise to him, at first. But when he thinks about the people he’s surrounded with, he thinks perhaps it isn’t all that surprising.

—

EPILOGUE

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Vincent asks.

“Yes,” Yves says. It’s not a lie.

This time, he’s seated right next to the window, and Vincent is in the middle seat. Yves had offered to take the middle seat instead, but Vincent had insisted(“If you wanted to sleep, you could lean against the window,” he’d said, and Yves had accepted only because it would be better to fall asleep against the window than do something embarrassing, like fall asleep on Vincent’s shoulder).

“It’s just the annoyidg residual symptoms, now,” he says. “I—”

God. He always has the worst timing. He veers away, muffling a tightly contained sneeze into his shoulder.

“hHEH-’IIDDZschH-yyEW! Snf-! I’mb — hHhEHh’DjjsSHH-iEW! Ugh, I’m fine. I feel better thad I sound.”

“Bless you,” Vincent says, leaning over to press his hand against Yves’s forehead. “No fever,” he says. “That’s good. But you should take another day off when we get back.”

Yves doesn’t think taking another day off is necessary. “I spedt the entirety of yesterday sleeping,” he says. “I think I’ve rested enough.”

Vincent just raises an eyebrow at him. “Need I remind you that someone very wise told you to take it easy?”

“Since when has Aimee been your spokesperson?”

“She made a lot of good points,” Vincent says, deceptively unassuming. “I think you should consider taking notes.”

Yves looks at him for a moment. “You’re laughing at me.”

This time, Vincent smiles. “Maybe.”

Yves leans back in his seat, reaching up with one hand to massage his temples. The changing cabin pressure is not exactly comfortable—his head still hurts a little, but he’s flown enough times to know that it won’t be as much of a problem once they finish their ascent.

“Thadks again for coming,” he says, unwrapping one of the small, packaged pillows the airline has left on their seats.

“You invited me,” Vincent says, blinking. “All I did was show up.”

But that isn’t true at all, Yves thinks. Vincent is the one who spent time learning basic French, who met Yves’s family and who spoke with everyone with genuine interest, who bought Yves medicine and water, all while being careful to not be overbearing. Vincent is the one who left the wedding early to walk Yves back to the hotel, who stayed with him the entire day afterwards.

“That’s such a huge understatement I don’t even kdow where to get started,” Yves says. “Thanks for meetidg my family—they love you, by the way. They’re going to be askidg about you every summer from now on, I just know it.”

He can already picture it—June, this year, after busy season is over, if their fake relationship lasts that long. Another flight where they’re next to each other. Another dozen conversations about how they’d met, about what it’s like dating a coworker, about what their plans for the future are.

Perhaps it’s wishful thinking. This was never meant to be a long-term arrangement in the first place. But something about this—about being here with Vincent—just feels so unthinkingly easy.

“It’s no problem,” Vincent says. “The feeling is mutual. I’m glad I got to meet them.”

“Thanks for looking after me, too,” Yves says, with another apologetic smile. “I’mb sure being stuck in a hotel room all day wasn’t how you were planning on spending your last day of vacation.”

“I don’t mind,” Vincent says, sounding strangely like he means it. “I like spending time with you.”

Yves nearly drops the pillow he’s holding.

When he looks back at Vincent, Vincent looks faintly amused. “Is that so surprising? I think I’d be a terrible fake boyfriend if I didn’t.”

“You make a really good one, as it stands,” Yves tells him, sincerely, and Vincent smiles.

Yves looks out the window—where the city beneath them begins to resolve itself into miniature, where the sky stretches where he can see Vincent reflected faintly back at him, from the glass—and finds that he feels impossibly light.

#sneeze fic #snz fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzfic #when i set off to write a slow burn h/c fic i don't think i expected it to be 28k words #this was a journey for me... thank you sincerely to everyone who's joined me for the ride 😭#i am not sure if this specific chapter feels rushed? or if it's too short? (if it does i'm very sorry 🙇‍♀️)#some thoughts... (spoilers ahead; pls read the chapter before proceeding)#1) this installment in particular is something of a turning point in their relationship development (and i hope that's not too subtle)#2) vincent not being like a traditionally 'soft' caretaker and having his frustration show a little more openly is something i've had in my #head for awhile :') it was fun to let that crystallize this chapter #yvverse #my fic

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whateveryouiguess · 4 months

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let me in.| roommate! eddie munson x reader

warnings: angst to fluff, not that serious tho, reader is sad and eddie tweaks bc he’s in love w her lol. no use of y/n, reader is described as wearing a bonnet to sleep. takes place in modern day :)

a/n: heyyy remember when i started this blog five months ago lmao. anyway. college is hard gimme a break. this wasn’t requested but i think it’s Neat. enjoy!

eddie can’t fuckin cook.

he can work the shit out of a hungry man and boxed macaroni but a genuine, effort-given, home cooked meal? forget about it. this lack of talent hasn’t ever bothered him though, he’s not a particularly picky guy (being dirt poor you learn to just eat what’s in front of you till you get full) so his ineptitude hasn’t created much of a hindrance. until now.

she’s not much into sharing her emotions; she’s always there with open arms when eddie falls apart, but she’s never asked for it in return. instead, she resorts to sulking in her bedroom and waiting till eddie’s left the common area to utilize the space. eddie is a grade a eavesdropper, and he wouldn’t put himself above listening through the wall to check on her when he’s especially worried. he gives her the space she knows he wants, doesn’t pry, but when he stays in the living room all day and doesn’t hear her come out of her room once, not even to eat, he knows it’s time to warp some boundaries.

“soup and self care,” she once described her catch-all sadness remedy. she’s used it on him more times than he can count and he knows for certain that it works like a charm (when accompanied by a tight hug over the shoulders and a warm kiss on the cheek, that is. she never misses.)

—————————————————————————

an hour and a half into fucking up a tomato bisque, eddie considers throwing in the towel and just ordering panera, but he worries the sentiment won’t ring true enough if it’s not from scratch. he groans loudly and drops the still warm pot of a soup homage into the sink, wiping the sweat off his brow with the black handkerchief ever tucked into his back pocket. defeated, he slumps against the marble countertop and heaves a big sigh, eyes trained on the closed, sticker decorated door directly across from the kitchen.

it’s just my period.

his poor girl.

i’m being dramatic.

she was so damn strong.

don’t worry about me.

he would give her the world. he had to.

“fuck it.”

ed slides towards her bedroom door, knocking gently. he hears her clear her throat and reinject the pep into her voice as she calls out a strained “yeah?”

“can i come in?”

“i-“ he hears shuffling, her voice gets closer to the door. “what’s up?” the shakiness in her voice makes his palms tingle and his cheeks burn. he’s hurting for her, and she won’t tell him why.

“sweetheart, please let me in. i know you’re not okay and i-i don’t wanna pry, or make you uncomfortable, y’know, i respect your boundaries and all that, but i…” the words leave him as his hand slumps over the brass knob of her door. “i can’t let you sulk anymore, kid.” his throat aches under the weight of the words that leave his lips. he doesn’t realize how heavy they are until he lets them go. “please.” with a quiet sniffle and a slow turn of the knob, eddie’s made privy to the pitch black mess of her room. she’s back in bed as soon as the door is open. tip toeing around her discarded bra and work clothes, a textbook and her open laptop, he crawls into bed beside her, leaving just enough space for her to roll over and cuddle into him. he craves her surrender, but he wants her to do so willingly. his shoulders feel hollow without the acupressure of her arms around him, he wants nothing more than to scoop her up and cradle her like she does him, but he’d rather be a gorgons lunch before pushing her beyond her limits. so, he settles on resting a hand between her shoulder blades and toying with the little curls at the nape of her neck, picking at the fairy knots and brushing them back under her bonnet when he’s done with them.

“i don’t wanna talk.” she huffs, as if he’d said anything to refute her. he just nods silently and rubs her back, smiling she presses herself up against him shyly.

“tomato bisque or french onion?” she coughs a little and sits up, squinting at him. the pale moonlight bleeding from the window and the blue cast of the doordash order screen on his phone lights him up like a freshwater pearl as he smiles at her confusion. “i’m getting panera, do you want tomato or french onion soup with your grilled cheese?” the scrunch in her nose scares him for a second, until she rolls over onto her other side and curls into his chest. the white flag has risen. his arms are quick to find her waist and shoulders holding her tight, tight, tight, to him. a slow, heated kiss to her temple is the nail in the coffin, and he’s sure he can coax her into a face mask or a back rub later on to complete the usual routine.

homemade or not, he was gonna get his girl some soup. he would get her the world.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #modern!eddie munson

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neverinadream · 1 year

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~~~~~~~~~~~~ | M Y I M A G I N E S | ~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~ | M Y L I T T L E S P A R R O W | ~~~~~~

Summary: There is only one thing Christian wants to do when he returns home after the World Cup: meet his daughter for the first time.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes

Song Inspo: Adventure Time - Bry

Warnings: dad!christian, talks of childbirth, mentions of his injury 👀

Notes: I think we are all broody after that photo. feedback is always appreciated

His thumb lovingly strokes your cheek, smiling uncontrollably as you lean into his touch, holding your own hand against his. "You look so beautiful," he hums, dipping to kiss the tip of your nose. You scrunch up your nose, making him laugh. God, how you had missed hearing him laughing. "And tired too- Ow-"

"Never tell her she looks tired," Kelley, his mum, tells, or rather chastises, him, shaking her head as Christian looks back at her. He frowns, rubbing the spot on the back of his head where she had softly clipped him. "Besides, you should try pushing nearly a nine-pound baby out of your penis," she says, setting hers and Mark's cups down on some coasters. You had offered yourself to make them both a drink, but Kelley was quick to shoot the offer down, insisting that you weren't going to lift a finger unless it was necessary for the next few weeks they were staying with you. "See just how tired you might look after only three days."

Christian grumbles under his breath, leaning against the kitchen counter, his face twisting with discomfort. "Okay, got it," he nods, looking away from his parents to watch you hide your smile with the back of your hand. It was a little tic you did when you wanted to laugh at something but didn't think it was necessary for the situation you were in. "Just never talk about my penis ever again, okay?" He resembled a teenage boy who had just been embarrassed in front of his friends.

"Oh, shush," Kelley tuts, shaking her head, and takes a sip of her coffee.

"Why can't we talk about your penis, babe?" You ask, removing your hand, and letting it drop to your side. "Is it..." You take a deep breath in, trying to calm your face as the joke dances on the tip of your tongue. "Is it a sore subject to talk about?"

Christian sighs, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Oh, don't you start," he mumbles, shaking his head as he watches you and his dad share a quick high-five. He didn't know it, but you and his dad had already got all the jokes planned following the painful incident that had happened during the game against Iran. "I wasn't even hit in the balls," he whispers quietly, a slight pink tinge forming on the tips of his ears as he looks to the ground.

"Of course you weren't," you pretend to believe him. Giving his cheek a soft caress, you lean in to kiss the top of his head. His hair had gotten longer in the three weeks he had been gone, and those dark curls you loved so much were beginning to show again. "It's just a good thing we've already got one child," you land another joke, giggling as hid dad laughs behind you, "just in case, you know-"

"Okay, shush," Christian talks over you, holding his hand over your mouth. He grimaces and retracts it a second later, feeling your tongue licking the palm of his hand. "Speaking of which," he mumbles, changing the subject as he wipes his hand down his thigh, "can I meet her now?" His face grows soft as he asks the question, both the excitement and the nerves fighting for a place in his eyes.

"Christian, she's still asleep-"

"I know, I know," he repeats, sneaking his arm around your waist and gently pulling you against his chest. His bottom lip pouts. "But can't you just wake her up? Just this one time?" He drops his forehead to rest against yours, stroking circles into your hips with his thumbs. "Please?"

You cradle his face and shake your head.

"Why not?"

"Because you're never meant to wake a sleeping baby, son," Mark answers for you, "believe me, I learned it the hard way."

"With all three of you," Kelley adds, the quickness of her innocent teasing makes you giggle.

Christian drops his head onto your shoulder and wraps both arms around you, being careful not to squeeze you too tightly. "Pretty please?" He mumbles, and you didn't have to see his face to know he was still pouting.

You snake your arms loosely around him, understanding his urgency to finally meet your daughter. He had only seen pictures of her and a quick glimpse at her over facetime, shortly after he had been given the news that she had been born. All of them had been an upgrade from the final scan photograph he had been carrying around with him. But now he just wanted to meet her.

The real her.

"Okay-" He lifts his head, the pout quickly disappearing for a smile. "-but if you wake her up-"

"I promise I won't wake her up!"

His parents let you go alone, knowing it was important for you two to have this moment alone, and inside the nursery, Christian and you stood beside the cot, both of your hands resting on the edge. For a second, you take your eyes off your daughter to watch him. You watched him blink once, twice, three times in a row, trying to blink away the tears that had brimmed in his eyes the second he laid his eyes upon her. He had turned into a soft, mushy mess in a matter of seconds. You had predicted this would happen the minute you two had heard that you were having a daughter.

She was going to have him wrapped around her finger and he didn't even know it yet.

Removing your hands from the cot's side, you wrap them both around his arm, laying a kiss against his tattooed bicep. His skin was warm and holding a part of him felt like you were holding your whole world in the palm of your hands. "She has your nose," you whisper against him, "and your eyes too." You stifle a giggle, not wanting to make too much noise. "Come to think of it, she's pretty much all you."

"You think so?" Christian asks, his voice cracking. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her.

"I know so," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his arm.

Despite your warning not to wake her up, Christian still reaches into the cot and carefully picks up her relaxed hand. "She's so tiny," he notes, her whole hand resting against three of his fingers. He runs the pad of his thumb over her fingers, studying their delicateness. "My little sparrow," he whispers, chewing the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from crying. He gasps as she slowly closes her fingers around his, making a tiny, chubby fist. "I wish I had been there," he says, stroking his thumb carefully over the back of her fist.

"You're here now," you mumble, reaching above to wipe a tear away, "that's all that matters."

"What was it like?" He asks, trying to decipher the look on your daughter's face as her eyebrows pinched and squirmed together.

"What was it like giving birth?" You ask, looking for some clarification. He hums, nodding his head. "Eh," you pause, taking a second to find the correct words to say, "it definitely wasn't as easy as they make it out to be in the movies." He chuckles at your answer, mumbling, "duh," under his breath. You give his arm a light pinch, giggling when he retaliates with a pinch of his own. "There was some pain - a lot of pain, actually," you continue, "I couldn't tell you why people go through multiple births if it hurts like that every time."

"But it was worth it?" For the first time since stepping into the nursery, he looks at you. A smile forms on both of your faces as you stare back at each other. "Right? She was worth all that pain?"

Quickly, you nod your head. "One thousand percent worth it."

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "I still wish I had been there," he speaks against you. He slips his arm out of your hold and reaches for the back of your neck. Caressing and stroking you with his thumb, he kisses you again. "Are you sure you can't wake her up?" He asks, keeping his head rested against yours but turning to look back at your daughter.

"No, Chris-" A soft whimper and a cry comes from the cot, her hand releasing Christian's finger as her arm reaches aimlessly in the air. A second cry, louder than the first, falls off her lips as she opens her eyes, both big and honey-coloured like her dad's. "Talk about timing, kid," you giggle, reaching into the cot to touch her cheek. She quietens down as soon as she feels your touch. "Do you want to pick her up?" You look back at Christian.

He shakes his head. "Maybe you should do it; I wouldn't want to hurt her." Biting your bottom lip, you hide your smile and swallow back your giggle. "Don't laugh," he mumbles, panning his eyes down to the floor, hiding his blushing cheeks.

"You know, you're not going to hurt her, right?"

"But she's small and fragile-"

"All babies are small and fragile, Christian," you giggle over him. Lying her carefully in Christian's arms, you fix the position of his hand, keeping it resting over his as you glance up at him. "It's important to keep her head supported," you mumble, but you were sure he already knew that, "I don't know how many times this wicked witch of a midwife had said it to me. She had a voice that sounded like nails being dragged down a chalkboard. You should be glad that you didn't have to endure that."

A soft laugh finds its way past his lips but he falls silent when he hears her stirring. "She's even smaller than I thought," he mumbles, chewing on his bottom lip, but it's no use for his cheeks were already damp with tears. "How is she this small?"

You stroke your thumb affectionately across his cheek, wiping away his tears. "Believe me, she didn't feel so small in the moment."

"Charming," he laughs, shaking his head.

Keeping her cradled in one arm, he brushes his finger softly down the bridge of her nose. His touch is soft and sweet and, for a moment, she closes her eyes, before opening them wide again. She looks up at him puzzled and confused, her eyebrows pinched together. Like everyone else she was about to meet, he was a stranger to her.

"Hi, Birdy," he softens his voice as he speaks to her, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips, "you're probably wondering who on earth this strange man is, but I'm your dad." He had waited so long to finally say those three words to her.

You step to his side, leaning your head against his shoulder, with your hand lingering on the small of his back. "She's all you," you whisper, scared your voice might crack if you spoke any louder.

"But she'll be smart like you," he says, giving the top of your head a quick kiss.

"And stubborn like the both of us," you say together, both of you laughing.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to meet you straight away," he apologises after the laughter dies down. He cradles his hand back behind her head and bends down to kiss her, smiling as gurgles, "but I'm here now and I'll always be here." His lips linger on the thick wisps of dark hair, whispering, "always," to her.

You bring your hand across to stroke her soft cheek, your eyes pulling away to look up at the nursery door. A quiet giggle slips past your lips when you spot his mum lingering behind the door, quickly running away as you catch her. "I think your mum might burst in here and snatch Birdy if we make her wait any longer," you joke, glancing up at Christian.

"Maybe that'll be a good thing," he whispers back to you, a glint of something playful in his eyes, "I'd finally get you all to myself."

"Ha!" You snort, shaking your head. "Think again, buddy; my vagina is out of business for the foreseeable future."

He watches you walk away from him, Birdy still cradled in his arms, looking up at him with studious eyes. "And how long is that exactly?"

"Depends," you shrug your shoulders, trying to decide if you should pack on another joke, "how long will your penis stay bruised for?" He looks at you with an expression that lacked emotion and you can't help but bring yourself to smile. "I just wouldn't want you to hurt yourself again," you slip your hands into your pockets, swinging back and forth on the balls of your feet, "we both know you develop the hormones of a teenage boy every time you come home."

He shakes his head. "That's not true."

"Baby, lets not lie to yourself."

He rolls his eyes. "This is going to be a long few weeks if you and my dad are going to keep making these jokes," he mumbles, quickly catching up to you.

Again, you snort. "It's going to be so much fun."

~~~~~~~ | F O O T B A L L T A G L I S T | ~~~~~~~

Football taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @sereshawsbby @greykitkepa

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic x reader #dad!christian

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thatfandomslut · 2 months

Text

I'm Not Your Person

Karen Shetty x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: while I don't think the ship is bad in the sense of this fic Karen/Gretchen is a TW, unrequited love, angst, and alcohol consumption

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Karen Shetty w/ quote 17 and piece of chocolate 8. Or: “I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” w/ unrequited love

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.

(Y/n) sighed as Regina patted her shoulder with a sense of sympathy. There were times when she wasn't as cold-hearted as she could be. She knew how (Y/n) felt about Karen, and she wished that she could help her. However, Gretchen got to Karen first, and now they were a couple. Now, they were in the cafeteria, sharing a kiss as Regina, Cady, and (Y/n) entered to go sit at their table. There was a horrible feeling brewing in (Y/n)'s stomach as she watched this exchange, not knowing if she should leave the lunch room to cry, or if she was going to put on a brave face and be supportive.

She had reminded herself how weird it would look if she didn't show up to lunch. It was a Wednesday, and Karen had texted her to see what pink outfit she would be sporting the night before. It was strange to be hopeful one minute just for your world to come crashing down the next minute. Cady gently patted the seat next to her with a sheepish smile. (Y/n) smiled at the offer as she accepted, not looking at Karen or Gretchen. Even if they had stopped kissing, she still wasn't ready to look either of them in the eye. How did she not know they were into each other? Was she so blind to her feelings that she didn't realize Karen could like someone else? Let alone someone else liking her?

(Y/n) felt queasy and she felt like she could cry, but she didn't want to overly observant honey-blonde that Karen locked lips with moments earlier to realize she was upset about something. That would unintentionally open Pandora's box, and she didn't want that to happen. Especially not now at lunch. Instead, she stayed quiet and smiled over to everyone as they spoke. As her mother always said, "The trick to being happy, baby, is to fake it until you make it." Looking back, this wasn't the best advice but she knew her mom's heart when in the right place when she received it all those years ago. Her mother couldn't predict that she would attach herself to that saying.

"(Y/n), did you hear me?" A voice caught her attention and she blinked when she met Gretchen's eyes. She then realized that all eyes were on her. While Cady and Regina looked on with a bit of worry, Karen and Gretchen held a curious stare. Gretchen's brows furrowed as she looked over the confused expression on (Y/n)'s face. "Okay, so it looks like you didn't. I was just wondering if you needed a ride to the party this weekend. Karen and I can pick you up after our date."

Date. It was like a stab to the chest. (Y/n) was about to decline the offer, but Regina entered the conversation for her. "I'll get her. I wanted to try this new make-up look on her." Regina gave her a nod as (Y/n) glanced over at her thankfully. This seemed to please Gretchen as she turned her attention to Regina, asking about the make-up look. Cady gently nudged (Y/n) in order to hopefully snap her out of any future zone outs. It seemed as though (Y/n) was in and out of consciousness, even if she was fully awake. Who knew unrequited love was an out-of-body experience? In Karen's defense, only (Y/n) fell in love, and she wasn't even aware. So, she was safe from any of the bad feelings that (Y/n) felt in her chest right now.

At the party Saturday night, Regina was giving her several shots. One after another, (Y/n) found herself growing more drunk by the second. By the time Karen and Gretchen entered, their fingers intertwined, (Y/n) was fucked up. "Wouldn't it be crazy if I just told Karen how I felt? Like that would be so fucking crazy, right?' Regina eyed the girl, now realizing her mistake of giving her so many shots. "I'm not gonna, 'Gina. I'm just saying it would be wild." (Y/n) shrugged, leaning into Cady since her balance was so poor. Cady held her up gently as she looked over to Regina with worry in her blue eyes.

When (Y/n) saw Karen alone, she patted Cady on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go to the restroom," she said, declining Cady's offer to go with her. She and Regina seemed to know what she was going to do. But, they knew that (Y/n) was too stubborn when she was drunk. So, they were sentenced to witnessing (Y/n) approach Karen as Gretchen went outside to retrieve something. "Karen, you look great. Do you know something? I'm in love with you. In fact, I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. Isn't that crazy?" (Y/n) slurred, leaning against the wall as Regina came over slowly to grab her.

Karen glanced over and didn't see Gretchen. She sighed softly, placing a soft hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder. "You're drunk," she said as if it wasn't obvious. "And I'm not your person." She stated sadly. She didn't want to hurt someone she considered a friend, but she wasn't going to lie to (Y/n) about her feelings either. Not when she was genuinely happy with Gretchen.

(Y/n)'s face went blank at her bluntness. "I- I know that," (Y/n) felt like the world might be spinning as she looked back to see Regina. "Regina, can we go?" She asked. She looked sober for a moment, even though Regina knew she wasn't. Regina extended an arm and (Y/n) practically fell into it. Karen decided not to tell Gretchen what (Y/n) said when she approached. She didn't want to ruin Gretchen and (Y/n)'s friendship. Instead, she just said (Y/n) was drunk. And though (Y/n) wasn't typically an emotional drunk, she was crying into Cady's shoulder as soon as she saw her.

Cady and Regina took (Y/n) out of the party as she cried, and Regina checked to see where the Uber was. "It's going to be okay, (Y/n). You're going to find your person, I promise." Regina assured her. But (Y/n) wasn't so sure about that as she continued to cry into Cady's shoulder, wishing she said nothing at all.

#karen shetty x reader #karen shetty #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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fairlyang · 4 months

Text

Loser 🏹

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: loser!katebishop x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. kate growing feels towards you, gay panic, slight jealousy, pervy, kate masturbates, you hear her

Loser!katie who happened to be your college roommate because you didn't have any friends at your uni to dorm with. You found out that she usually kept to herself, but when you would strike up some kind of conversation she was a bit awkward.

Soon though with newfound confidence she'd grow some balls and start talking to you!

Eventually getting closer and able to have conversations without there being awkward silences.

And then came the stage where she literally wouldn't stop talking. Ever. She finally grew closer to you and felt comfortable sharing stories, her hobbies, and would buy you food.

Loser!katie who would blab on about her favorite superhero but left out the parts where she works with him and only makes it seem like a role model type of fascination or a fangirl for some actor type of thing.

She also loved telling you about her archery and fencing, but she'd go on longer little rants when you specifically would ask her about them given she filled up your shared room with a handful of medals and trophies.

You'd listen intently which soon made her grow flustered for some reason but you didn't notice. You'd been friends for a good three months since having decent convos back in mid September but it became more in Kate's mind.

Loser!katie who had grown to have a fascination with you. Just like she had opened up, you had as well and she swore she could hear your sweet soft voice for the rest of her life if she could.

She already knew she liked girls but never did she think she'd end up in a predicament like this. Having to live with a girl who you now have a crush on.

She'd stare at all your features while you ranted to her about your day or classes. She admired the way your eyes would sparkle or the way your lips would curl into a wide smile when you were happy.

Every time you'd smile at her, she'd feel her face turn red. Her brain would act as if those pretty smiles are just for her but in reality maybe you were just really happy that day.

Loser!katie who happens to be quite a clumsy girl which was shocking because of the sports she does, definitely wouldn't wanna trip while carrying a bow and arrows.

She once accidentally tripped over a pair of her converse she left out on the floor but to her luck and also disgrace, you had caught her.

Her heart was racing so fast and it felt as if the world was moving in slow motion.

"You gotta be more careful Katie!" You exclaimed and carefully brought her body up to which Kate just gulped and gave you a small nod.

Loser!katie who soon noticed you were starting to go out with guys and would mentally (and almost physically) slap herself for thinking you'd like girls.

That was until she saw you making out with a girl at a frat party you had invited her to.

She instantly grew jealous and annoyed. Jealous because she had grown to like you a lot, more than a friend and annoyed because she didn't even know you liked girls.

Who would've known she had a chance this whole time?

So she got to drinking to distract herself. To keep her mind occupied from the jealousy that was filling her every thought.

Had she known you also like girls maybe she would've asked you out. But that was a huge maybe given Kate would practically be blushing and try to not hold eye contact with you at every conversation nowadays.

Loser!katie who left the party early after taking a handful of shots and nearly fell while unlocking your dorm room.

She went to her bed and climbed on top of it before scrolling through instagram to distract herself even further.

Well that didn't work out for her given you had posted something and curiosity killed the cat, she's nosy so of course she opened it.

She was first met with a fit check, you were wearing a tight maroon bodycon dress and she always tried to calm her horny thoughts from appearing but the tequila from tonight did not help her.

Her eyes immediately went to your cleavage. Your tits were sat perfectly, and that bra was doing them justice.

Loser!katie who couldn't help the arousal that was building just by staring at one picture. She laid back into her bed and spread her legs, hands slowly making their way down as her eyes did on your body.

The dress hugged your curves to perfection and as she was holding the screen to that picture she realized you had posted more. After that was a boomerang of you in the bathroom mirror with your tits pressed together.

Talk about impeccable timing.

She bit her lip and quickly took off her pants and threw them on the floor. She then slipped her hand under her boxers and instantly was met with her slick engulfing her fingers.

Loser!katie who let out whimpers as she lightly rubbed her clit into slow circles, imagining its your fingers over hers.

Her hips bucked up and she's never felt so needy and desperate in her life.

Has she reached a new low in this crush?

Was this too much?

Loser!katie who felt like such a perv touching herself to what you've posted just a few hours ago.

She felt very pervy but that wasn't enough to stop her fingers from going faster.

And it definitely wasn't stopping her from letting your name slip out along with moans.

And it didn't stop her from lifting her left thumb up to see what else you've posted. The next was a video of you posing with some friends.

She skipped that.

The next was a picture with some guys.

Skipped immediately.

But the next made her gasp and then whimper.

It was one big picture of you both at the party that Kate somehow forgot you wanted to take. But also had three other smaller pictures surrounding the bigger one.

The bigger one happened to be one where Kate's arm was wrapped around your waist and your hand was gently on her stomach.

Loser!katie who couldn't help but grin that you included her or better yet post multiple pictures together.

It made her heart beat and she just felt so happy.

Just like how happy you were when you saw she had a shirt that was the exact color as your dress.

You didn't even have to convince her to wear it.

She put it on in a heartbeat.

Loser!katie who was now teasing her entrance as she skipped to the next video to see it was you grinding against the girl she saw you kissing.

She groaned, putting her phone to the side, and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the pillow as more jealousy filled her body.

How badly she regretted not asking you to dance at least.

How badly she wishes that was her in that girl's position.

She'd hold you well and maybe even have touched you, sliding her hand down your back as you grind against her crotch.

Kate slips her fingers inside and keeps her eyes closed. She so desperately wanted to cum thinking of you.

Thinking of you grinding against her while her hands were up and down your body.

You'd look so pretty in front of her, throwing your ass back into her.

How bad she'd want to smack it and then fight the urge to drop down to her knees to eat you out.

She was practically salivating and her mouth was running dry.

She started to fuck herself faster thinking of being between your thighs.

Those thick thighs she always seemed to admire.

The ones she so desperately wanted to be in-between.

Loser!katie who was now fucking herself harder that the only sound besides pure silence in the room were her moans and her sopping cunt.

She tried her hardest to keep her voice down but with her imaginative mind, it somehow believed that you were truly the one that was fingering her.

The poor needy moans she was letting out were only growing louder as her mind played games with her.

She was thinking of you between her thighs fingering her and sucking on her clit while she looked down and held eye contact.

It felt so real.

She brought her left hand down and slipped it under her boxers before quickly rubbing her clit because she could tell she was close.

She wanted to cum for you.

"Please- please please-" she whimpered and added a third finger making her whine as well as squirm.

But she took it all and continued her previous pace.

She was imagining you calling her a good girl while pulling away from her clit. Murmuring sweet praises for her while you fucked her like she deserved.

The whimpers slipped out of her mouth creating a sweet melody that surely you would've enjoyed.

And surprisingly were.

Pervy!reader who was on the other side of the door listening.

It was hard not to.

You'd only heard the desperate pleads of "please" and couldn't help but lean your ear against the door because it would be a missed opportunity to do so.

Having a fine roommate? Sure.

Befriending that fine roommate? Love it.

So now it was simply catching your fine ass friend masturbating and you couldn't deny how good she sounded.

Her moans were angelic and you pressed your thighs together while listening.

Meanwhile loser!katie was so close to the edge, feeling her orgasm coming in when she decides to moan your name again.

She lets out a cry before her whole body started to shake and finally she let it take over, hitting her like a tidal wave and a poor needy mess.

She whimpers out your name and lays further into her pillow, slowing down her pace and moving her fingers off her clit.

Her chest was heaving and her thighs were still shaking. She let the horny thoughts take over once and she ends up with a full body shaking orgasm.

She tried to calm down and slowly opened her eyes then softly slipped her fingers out. She whimpered and took both hands out of her boxers before taking her dress shirt off.

She sat up and grabbed a tee shirt she had left on her little coffee table before slipping it on because she didn't wear a bra.

She then got up and quickly went to the bathroom, washing her hands then went back to her bed.

She went under her blanket and laid her head down before shifting and laying down on her side and throwing her left arm over her body pillow, pulling it close.

She went to sleep soon after that and once you couldn't hear any noise you sneakily went in.

Your face was warm and you were left speechless that she was moaning out your name.

Was she thinking of you?

Is that why she left early?

You walked into the room and walked towards her bed, practically tiptoeing because you didn't want to accidentally wake her up.

You pulled her blanket over and covered her so she wouldn't get cold. You then quickly changed and wondered if your friendship would soon change because of tonight's events.

#Kate bishop #lesbian #bisexual #sapphic #wlw #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop smut

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trendywaifus · 11 months

Note

Ganyu,Ei,Yae Miko and Shenhe with an s/o who’s nervously ask them whether they(reader) could sleep as small spoon while they(Genshin characters) could sleep as big spoon

for the life of me, i can’t think of shenhe or yae’s part! i think i have genshin writer block. ugh, ganyu and ei’s parts were made like last year and for some reason i never finished it. so now, I decided to just cut the two parts and release what i have, I’m SORRY. I haven’t touched genshin in more than 3 months. ):

you awkwardly rubbed your arm, shifting your weight on one leg under the concerned gaze of your lover. ganyu waits patiently with a shy but encouraging smile on her lips while you try and articulate your request without sounding weird. “ dear, is everything alright-? “ “ c-can you hold me tonight? “ you asked sheepishly, glancing up at the half-qilin with heated cheeks. she blinks several times before her face contorts into a bashful expression. “ a-ah. .y-you want m-me to hold you? “ you nodded meekly. she promptly straightens her posture then clears her throat. “ of c-course! i don’t mind that really. let’s go to bed, okay dear? “

with that, ganyu tentatively rests her hand on your back as she guides you to your shared bed. within a moment, you’re tucked under the covers with her, arm stiffly wrapped around your waist and her front pressed against your back. ganyu takes a deep breath which felt cool against the back of your neck, as an attempt to free herself from being nervous. you always tended to her needs without question so she will do her best to satisfy yours back. “ uhm, are you comfortable? do you want me to adjust my arm or reposition my body? “ her dulcet voice asks against your ear.

“ no ganyu, i’m fine, thank you. “ you answered back, smiling contentedly to yourself at how safe and loved you felt in her arms. ganyu hums, placing a tender kiss to your shoulder blade. she likes this. for the first time in a while, the adeptus felt as though she is shielding you from the world in her embrace; she’s your safe haven. she is the protector of both you and liyue so it’s within her contract and responsibility to act as such. “ ganyu? “ you muttered. “ yes, dear? “

“ do you think you can do this again tomorrow? “

“ . . .y-yes. “

before ei had to return back to her plane of euthymia for the night, she wanted to make sure that you’re tucked in bed. the deity insisted that you reside in tenshukaku so guards and the puppet can keep you safe while you slumber. the luxurious bedroom that ei once slept in when she was a kagemusha, had a fine mattress that’d make you want to “selfishly miss your daily routines.”

“ i’m off, dearest. “ she delves down to kiss your forehead before getting up to leave the room, you grabbed ahold of her wrist without warning. when ei peered over her shoulder with surprise from your sudden move, her eyes softens when she discovers the look of bashfulness on your features. “ what is the matter? “

“ if it’s okay, do you mind staying here with me for the night? w-well, i kn-know- “

“ yes, if that’s what you wish beloved. “

she makes her way back to the bed to where your back faces and gracefully slips under the sheets. ei’s lips meets your shoulder for a fleeting moment before her arms finds themselves around your frame. deft fingers intertwines with yours, she hums contently at the warmth and softness of your hand. “ no need to be so nervous to tell me your requests, admittedly. . .i cannot ever say no to you. “ you can practically hear the warm smile in her voice.

#ganyu x reader #ei x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #ei genshin #genshin ganyu

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strkyoo · 6 months

Text

✦ 彡 OCTOBER PASSED ME BY

pairing ; various fem genshin characters x fem!reader — slight fluff to angst w/ no comfort !

warnings ; break-ups?, reader died in some part, a bit of desperation in some part too, light tw on the last part?? (talking abt deaths), gamon (gagal move on/failed to move on) yahaha — wc ; 0.9k

kyo’s note ; awal oktober is like “we fell in love in october” while akhir oktober is “october passed me by”‼️‼️ SO TRUE (im not ok) (i also got lazy at the end u could tell)

〉MASTERLIST〈

i keep the letters that you wrote in a secret place.

when you two were still together, you always bought things that reminded each of you of each other. plush toys, jewelry, matching outfits, and other items. letters are also included—she loves to exchange letters with you, especially when you’re away from each other.

but now, all the things you bought for her are all meaningless. without you by her side anymore, what does these things even mean to her? these things now had no value. the urge to break them and get those things out of her sight is just… too intense. yet, she can’t. she knew your last wish for her was to take care of the things you had bought for her. she hides them in a secret place, sometimes would look at them and gradually think about how these things used to make her smile like a fool. oh, how she missed this feeling— how she missed you.

YOIMIYA, FOCALORS, amber, xiangling, ganyu, KIRARA, LISA, NINGGUANG, keqing.

yeah, i got bitter when you got cold, and could you really blame me though?

you were a sweetheart in her eyes. someone so sweet, soft, kind, gentle. someone who impossibly can do a crime, someone who wouldn’t and won’t break her heart—someone as perfect as an angel.

at least, that’s what she thought before certain things happened between you and her.

here she is—looking at you like someone she utterly despises, despite the fact that she used to swear to the archons that she’ll cherish you and protect you forever. you got bitter from time to time, and she got cold and hurt as a result. well, things changed, right? and she still couldn’t help to miss your subtle smile that always made her forget about the weights around her shoulders.

ARLECCHINO, yelan, RAIDEN EI, shenhe, candice, DEHYA, KUKI SHINOBU.

you know this song is about you, who else could it be?

she wrote a poem about you, about how perfect you are. she sang for you, about how she couldn’t get enough of your love. she takes loads of photos of you, admiring how gorgeous you look from every angle. she would do anything for you. you are the love of her life after all.

but you left her alone. you left her side. words couldn’t express how much this hurt her internally. she couldn’t stop re-reading the poem she wrote about you, she couldn’t stop humming your favorite songs, she couldn’t stop looking at your angelic photos. she couldn’t let you go.

XINGYAN, CHARLOTTE, ayaka, nilou, yun jin, BARBARA.

you were the first to make me feel like i was me.

she never felt any feelings like this when she’s with you. it feels… weird. in a good way. how her eyes softened when she saw you, how her face would heat up, how her heart rate increased, how the mingling and odd ticklish feelings filled her stomach and how the overwhelming feelings slowly destroyed her in the most heavenly way. she can be herself around you, and that’s the only thing she wished to feel once in her life.

but that was the first and last time she would ever have that feeling. she couldn’t feel the same way anymore. she couldn’t love another person in the same way that she loves you. and this was the first and the last time that she would be able to feel love and pain in such a way.

CLORINDE, sucrose, LYNETTE, ROSARIA, eula, mona, KOKOMI, KUJOU SARA, collei, noelle.

i made you my whole world.

she imagined a lovely future for your relationship. she imagined how she’ll wake up right next to you in your shared bed, how she’ll start a lazy morning with you—spending the rest of her life with you by her side.

but fate said otherwise. and it was being really, really cruel. archons above, why would they take you apart from other people? she just can’t imagine a life without you. it’s impossible—it feels like she is losing the sun of her life—the hope of her life. she just wanted you and only you. oh what is she supposed to do without you?

yanfei, LUMINE, faruzan, mona, LAYLA, fischl.

always in the back of my mind, you’ll be my girl.

the combination of all the parts—she did everything and anything for you.

she keeps the things that remind her of you, she wrote poems about how perfect you were for her. you were the first who made her feel like herself—she made you her whole world. you were her everything, her other half… she just couldn’t let you go. she cherishes you dearly, even if death could separate you from her—she would gladly die with you.

NAVIA, YAE MIKO, la signora, jean, BEIDOU, HU TAO.

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated ! ♡

— © strkyoo.

#✦ — kyo’s writing !!#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #x reader #x fem reader #genshin x fem reader #genshin women x fem reader #genshin angst #i couldnt fit all characters on the tags ugrhrhr #genshin wlw #wlw

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Note

Girl thank you so so so so so much for writing yandere!Konig because LEMME TELL YOU I did not know I needed him until I stumbled upon your blog. Reading Just Friends was like a breath of fresh air, your characterization of Konig's character was AMAZING. Seriously, I think you've ruined all other Konig pics for me lol! I loved how unhinged and scary he was but also how caring and kind he was towards Engel <3

BTW have two questions regarding Konig in Just Friends!

1. How old is he in this fic? (apologies if you already mentioned this in the fic I have a terrible memory)

2. At what point in his and Engel's relationship would he finally allow her to look at him without his hood on? What kind of experience would that be for both of them? Also, what do you imagine him to look like? (sorry I'm now realizing this is more than 2 questions)

By the way, I just read Man-Sized and wow that was a phenomenal fic, I gotta say I love love love your interpretation of Ghost's character. I feel like Ghost is a tough character to write but you really nailed him!

Thanks in advance! (I'm gonna go binge the rest of your awesome fics hehe)

Thank you so much sweetie!! You shower me with compliments and I've read your message so many times, it always puts a smile on my face 💕 As for your questions:

1. Considering that this is an AU where König is not a colonel, and because some of his mannerisms are a bit boyish, I’d say König is somewhere around 27–32 in this fic...?

2. Removing the hood completely, even in Engel's presence, is super challenging for König because the mask is not only a comfort object, it's his shield against the world. He can't bear anyone to look at him and what's been done to him, he actually thinks himself a monster (a thought planted in his mind by his father).

I'm actually getting slasher vibes from Just Friends König's relationship with his mask; I don't know if you're familiar with the lore on Michael Myers (Halloween) or Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th), but the mask means everything to all of them and so it does to König. It transforms him into a hero, a soldier, an operator, a functioning human being. Without it he's reduced to scarred, vulnerable, weak man.

So... it will take time before he would take it off and even more time for him to be comfortable with hanging around without it (if that's even possible). But Engel has learned to love his scars, so I'm sure König will eventually lower down that shield when they're alone ❤️

I’d imagine the first times happen when they’re cuddling and Engel lifts the mask to kiss him. Days and weeks pass, more cuddling ensues, and König lets the cloth stay up longer and longer when he sees she’s not repulsed. Engel kisses his scars, caresses his face, tells him that he’s handsome and that she loves him – it doesn’t transform König from an abused, bullied, broken man to someone cheerful and outgoing, but it allows him to at least ease into the fact that there’s someone in this world who doesn’t fear or hate him. He's been blessed with a woman who doesn't think he's a monster, so he is even more convinced that Engel is a heavenly being because how else would she be able to touch and love him like this...?

(3.) I actually shared some pics earlier on what I imagine König looking like, but I'm having second thoughts about it which is why I don't want to share a link to that ask. It may sound odd but it's always been really hard for me to imagine what's under that hood! People seem to have so many different headcanons on what he looks like, I think it's really cool. I have nothing, I wish I had something 🥲 His face has always been just blurred, sensored void to me, the only thing I imagine is that König has dark blonde/light brown hair (he might prefer a short military cut because he's a freak for all things army) and that he has thin lips?

And she even tells him she likes it when he’s without the hood, tells that she likes to see his face and wants to just watch him and kiss him. König will eventually lose the hood more often when he’s with her. It's not for his sake, but hers. If Engel wants to see him, who is he to deny her? It makes his heart and chest tight, but he’ll just have to live with it. Besides, Engel’s lips and touch feel better than being inside that baggy darkness all the time.

#answered #yandere könig #just friends fic

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astranne · 1 year

Text

— APHRODITE; DIVINE BEAUTY

itoshi sae x female halfblood!reader

— HALFBLOOD MASTERLIST

— notes ;

welcome to my first work of my halfblood series hehe. very surprised with myself that i decided to write for sae, but you know what they say… why hot when evil? and he was evil for breaking rin‘s heart :( anyways, enjoy this madness, idk what i've been thinking when writing this nothing so uh yeah...

— genre ;

meet cute but the meeting was actually not cute, manager x famous!character trope

— word count ;

1.3k words

— warnings ;

fem!reader who is fixated on beauty, hints of both being possessive with each other, not edited nor proofread (i finally wanted to post this work dear lord), background story on relationship between sae and reader (there may be a part two to this one)

Beauty was something you held dear. Something you held close, after picking it up as if it were a lost treasure, hidden behind rocks and eons of dust.

Beauty was something many children of Aphrodite loved. They chased after it, they wanted to own it, they wanted to share it with the world. Most of them were satisfied with the classical beauty of a human, their appearance and looks, but there were some with more special tastes.

They chased after beautiful things, may it be clothes, flowers, weapons... people. You did that too. In the youngest generation created by the goddess of love and beauty, you were an oddball. While you admired the appearance of others as well, had an impressive amount of clothes in your possession, you loved especially the beauty of football.

Oh, not the one, where little boys kick a ball between them, of course not! You only saw the beauty in the best, the best football games, the best play, the best goals, the best players. All of them beautiful in their own way, fascinating you to the core and keeping you focused on one task.

With the blessing of your mother, one of the most present gods in the lives of their children, for she is the goddess of love after all, you've made it far already. As a scouter for the European League and the U-20 teams, you've already seen much of the world and saw its beauty and its ugliness.

You've seen glorious football players, still in their youth and unpolished diamonds, ready to shine on the world stage. You've seen them rise, most of them fell, some never quite made it and the small rest... achieved what most mortals couldn't. They climbed high, with steady feet and a strong body, their eyes always on the ball, ready to shoot the next goal, ready to be the next victor.

And when they made it, when they finally made it, the one moment, where everyone was overwhelmed with emotions, with victory, with the beauty of it- then you felt as if you've been blessed with godhood by Zeus, sitting next to your mother and gazing from Olympus, watching mortals to do the impossible.

You may not get high on adrenaline like the Ares kids, when they were bashing their heads in a good fight, or be filled with positive emotions like the children of Poseidon as soon they were close to the sea. Oh no, it was passion, it was beauty, it was love, that fulfilled you like nothing else in this world.

This is why you were here now, watching how boys of your age were fighting for a spot in the team of Royale Madrid Youth. The team had to fill in several spots, but only in the next season, when the eldest would climb to the seniors. They were preparing and they were counting on you, the girl with golden eyes.

It was a stupid nickname, but it was also close to the truth. All the talents you picked and recommended, brought gold in the form of medals home, in addition of more money.

Greedy they were, the mortals walking on earth and you were greedy too. But instead of searching for materialistic things to own, you and many other halfbloods were greedy for the proof of life. And this was yours. Football, soccer, kicking balls. Destroying dreams and futures of foolish mortals and blessing those with your honeyed words who were worthy in your eyes. Not once were you wrong and you wouldn't be wrong this time.

Because when you saw him, you were breathless. You immediately knew- yes, it was him. Pretty he was, beautiful, his face without any mistakes, his hair so soft and eyes so delightful. He instantly had your interest, the Japanese striker called Itoshi Sae.

Passion burned brightly in him, lighting up his face with a beautiful smile when he scored, victory shining in his eyes. But then someone else would come along, older and faster, take the ball and leave him behind.

The light in his eyes slowly dimmed, over the days, over the weeks. Not once you've spoken to him, but you kept a close eye on him, seeing how he slowly seems to be... less. Less beautiful, less passionate, less him. He dimmed, the fire in him slowly going out and it bothered you. Normally you wouldn't care, you shouldn't care, but something about him has awoken the divine blood in you, calling for you to cast your blessing.

You didn't. Not yet, he still wasn't ready yet. He still didn't see the whole world, he still wasn't broke, he was still foolish and naive- Itoshi Sae wouldn't be able to survive the way he was and acts now. He would be left behind, burned out, nothing more, but a small footnote besides heroes writing history.

But there was potential in him, there was potential he would evolve. And maybe you would help him, lead him towards the right path, whisper the right words in his ears.

In the end, you decided to help Sae, taking in the lost lamb and showing him around in the city, showing him the world. His eyes were wide, taking in the beauty of Spain, where the fates have decided for him to be, with you by his side.

His dreams have long been crushed, you had watched them, when another striker had beaten him without even really trying, fully knowing he would kill Sae with his actions. And it almost did. But you caught him, showing him the brilliance of the rest of the battlefield called football and Sae set his eyes on a new goal dream.

You became something akin to his manager and trainer in one, even if he had both of these more than enough. You were there to witness his rebirth, you were there when he started remolding himself, you were there, guiding and blessing him.

You were there when Itoshi Sae debuted as midfield, ascending to the world's best, leaving his burdens in Japan behind and becoming your blessed little mortal.

He was yours and you were his, by his side, always, you followed his path of victory, watched him and how his heart grew cold, until he owned the heart of a true warrior.

Itoshi Sae was one the new heroes, loved by so many, but he only gave his heart to you. You protected it like a treasure, almost possessive, with a keen eye on everyone who comes close to him.

"You're doing it again," he murmurs, not looking at you, but he knows you're standing right behind his seat. The makeup artist, that has been powdering Sae's face for a while now, tilts up his chin and starts applying mascara on his insane lashes. You were almost jealous, if it wouldn't be for the fact that you're a daughter of Aphrodite.

You just hum, typing away on your tablet, planning Sae's schedule for the next three months. There is much to do and you plan to make Itoshi Sae a household name. It was necessary for his career, and while he didn't like doing all these photo shoots and interviews, he could already see the fruits of his hard labor and your manipulations.

He was one of the most followed footballers in his generation, he had more fans than many older football players, which also affected his reputation. Itoshi Sae was the THE Middlefield player everyone wanted, and he could decide where he would go from now on.

"And what if I am?" You ask, and he just lets out a scoff. He can't say anything against it, you're being possessive of him, when he does it too. Keep you close, a blessing of the gods, close to him and his heart.

"I would tell you to stop, but are you going to listen?,” he asks, and already knows the answer. You wouldn't and so you just smirk, drop a kiss on his cheek and leave him behind. He knows you so well.

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ASTRANNE 2023

#blue lock #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x female reader #sae itoshi x fem reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x female reader #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi x you #blue lock x reader #🪐 galaxy milky way

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teddypickerry · 1 year

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Hi idk if you’re requests are open but if so could you write a Nikki Sixx x reader where he confesses that he’s in love with the reader even though they have Ben like fighting. And the reason the have been fighting is because there both in rival bands. Idk man I just thought it was like cute lol

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 !

pairings! nikki sixx x fem best friend reader

word count! 1.8k

warnings! swearing (duh it’s nikki fucking sixx), mentions of sex (again… it’s a nikki sixx fic idk what the fuck you expect)

a/n! i kinda put my own spin on your request, i hope that’s good!! but guys I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE A NIKKI FIC FOR WAY TOO FUCKING LONG SO KEEP THEM REQUESTS COMING BC I NEED MORE OF MY SEXY ROCKSTAR. also can we talk about that photo???? looks can kill bc i am dead.

being in the rock scene as a woman is one of the hardest things to be conquered. or so, that's how it seemed. you couldn't go one day without being mistaken for some crazed groupie who was trying to sneak into the rehearsals. the rehearsals that were your very own, not some man's.

being the opener for mötley crüe was a new level of difficulty. when nikki sixx had asked you to fill in the position for their first world tour, you'd obliged, this gig possibly leaving you to the stardom you'd always desired. plus more time with the bassist boy who you'd had spent way too much time with in the past few years.

it started in '79 when you had just moved to the city of angels with your best friend who had already lived there a few months. when you arrived, she had a guy in her life who was living off her while in between bands. you thought this classified him as a jackass — or maybe she was just naive, but either way, it was a dick move. he ate all of your food, used all of the toilet paper, and had loud sex with your best friend all night long.

it was less than two months that you lived with the jackass before your best friend kicked him out. she had accused him of cheating which you found insane at the time, only to find truth behind that statement the more you got to know the sleazy bastard.

so, for some reason you found yourself at his band london’s show that same week. he spotted you instantly and ever since then — the two of you became an item. not the kind you think, but the kind that would kill the rest of the world for one another. the kind that had so much unspoken sexual tension but never once acted on it. too scared to ruin the relationship between the both of you. so here you were, nearly six years later, doing your hair to go out onstage to open up for his now national selling band.

"axl rose is a bad kisser, i'm just being honest." hannah, your vocalist, shrugged before applying her red lipstick in the mirror directly beside you and your hot roller set. the drummer snorted from the couch as she sipped on something that definitely wasn't water. "that's why you should have chose slash."

"it wasn't exactly a pick and choose, mila." hannah directed at the girl who balanced sticks in her hands before glancing down at you. "what about you y/n, who'd you fuck last night?"

"i left early. i went to the whisky with n-"

"with nikki," mila and hannah finished for you as you pursed your lips and took out your final curl. the two girls shared a look before their was a slight knock on the door. it opened before anyone could say a single thing though. speaking of the devil, nikki sixx stood their in all his glory. his cocky grin directed on his face, taking up the small parts you could see — his jet black dyed hair taking over the rest. he was tanned, probably because of the months in california he spent before the tour. his tanned and tattoo covered chest was wide opened, a jean vest hardly buttoned over him. he looked perfect, as per fucking usual.

"ladies!" he greeted simply with that grin of his. the two girls turned to face him, your eyes still stuck on yourself in the mirror as you started on your makeup. "nikki, you know we could have been naked." hannah spoke simply as her eyes glossed over you for a second before turning back to him, noticing his eyes also stuck on you. "well i knocked didn't i?"

"yeah, then you bolted in here." mila spoke teasingly as she messed around with her drumsticks. nikki glanced at the both of them for a second before turning back towards you, you not even giving him the light of the day. he knew what this was about, this was the very same reason he came to this dressing room.

it all started this morning when doc had ordered you to his office far too early — 9am. which for rockstar time is like 4am to a normal person. so, you went to his office tired and all, from nikki having you home at 4am rather a reasonable time. he had told you the basics of the rest of the tour and added in, as if it was no big deal, that nikki happened to head to your ex best friend's apartment after he dropped you off. because that's where he was that very morning when doc tried to contact him.

your ex best friend (the one nikki had dated that you roomed with) was a sore subject for you. nikki was the only one who truly knew what happeend. it was about a year after she kicked him out, she had crashed one of his mötley house parties that you were in attendance at. he thought it was hilarious at the time and didn't mind another hot girl in his house. but then when she noticed you, holy shit did she go psycho. you had realized later that she did this because she was jealous of you for nikki taking you under his wing, while she was the one who dumped the now successful rockstar.

there were screams of you being his slut who he would drop days later when he got bored of your "cunty behavior." then her saying something about fonzie and then pouring her drink all over your shirt. this kind of made nikki snap. he just went off, calling her a bitch and making her get out. it was the you finally realized nikki wasn't just some sleazy guy who you liked to hangout with. he was your best fucking friend.

so, the idea of him now fucking around with the girl who screamed in your face wasn't your ideal situation. "tommy has a new drum set he wanted to show you mila. and hannah..." nikki scratched the back of his neck as she finished his sentence. "i'm thirsty i'm gonna go get a drink."

"but you have a-" mila started only to get dragged by the arm with hannah's long fingernails out the door. nikki gave her a gracious smile as she shot him a wink and shut the door behind them. you acted innocent as you pampered the blush onto your face, noticing the man slowly making his way over towards you through the mirror. "y/n, babe-"

"i don't wanna hear it, nikki." you stated while you put away your blush and pulled out your eyeshadow palette. the long haired man sighed and pulled up the bench beside you climbing over it to face you. he was far too close to you, not that it bothered you. it's not like the two of you weren't used to being shoved against one another. but this was different. you knew he had spent the morning cuddled up with her. "pretty girl, i know you don't like carly. i know you can't stand her and neither can i-"

"-then why'd you spend the morning fucking off in her bed, sixx? if you hate her so much then stay away from her." you turned to face him, your faces inches apart. you could feel his breath on you as he sighed, placing his hand on your back. "i'm a sleaze, y/n. she wanted some and i was craving it so i went to her apartment. okay? i'm not proud of it," he dryly chuckled. "but i'm not proud of most of the things i do."

"you shouldn't be," you spoke as you brushed the eyeshadow over your eyelids and nikki bit down on his bottom lip. he couldn't process why this pained you so much, yeah he wished he could take it back but that was him. why did it hurt you? "babe, you're making it real difficult to apologize to right now."

you rolled your eyes before packing up some of your makeup and continuing on with your routine. he sat in silence for a moment while watching you, as if you were his favorite VHS tape that he would rewind a million times. even when he didn't understand you at times — he still was in admiration of you. everything about you amazed him. "stop looking at me."

"you make it so hard..." he paused his sentence in his twelve year old self before continuing, "when you look so fucking pretty." he expressed as he reached his hand toward, messing with the side of your tank top before making eye contact with you in the mirror. "nik?"

"hm?" he hummed as he leaned on his other hand, his eyes still locked on you in the mirror. "why? just, why? i know it wasn't just because you're 'sleazy'. you fucking hate carly and that's always enough to keep it in your pants."

nikki seemed shocked by your words but played it off with a dry laugh. the real reason was deep down and he knew it was there. he didn't want it to be there but it was, his friends reminded him of it every goddamn time you breathed. "cause..." he cleared his throat. "i'm a fucking maniac for you."

your head immediately turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to have a smile of relief on his face. as if saying that cured cancer. "i've spent six years knowing you, craving you... and i thought for some fucked up reason if i fucked the girl that brought us together, i'd get over you miraculously. i realized how dumb it was the moment she was naked. because the only reason i ever fucked in that apartment was because i knew you were there. god," he paused to laugh and rub his face. "the first time i saw you, i thought carly was shit. you just... god, y/n. i fucking fell for you and i haven't stopped since then."

you couldn't believe your ears, you would have sworn your heart stopped at your best friend's words. your world stopped, that's for sure. probably when you shut him up and kissed him. it was a feeling you've desired for far too long. his chapped lips tasted so good against your own. and his little monologue tasted even fucking better. "even though you have a shit band, i want you to be my girl." nikki mumbled in between the kiss, making you slap his arm as he pulled away. the cocky grin was present on his face. "even though you have a shit band," you smirked. "i want to be your girl, nikki sixx."

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #need more nikki sixx fics #mötley crüe #motley crue #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars

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