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cher-rei · 2 months

Note

Hi👋! I was wondering if I could request a Gavi x reader fluff fic which includes this prompt “I have no idea what I’m doing. Oh God we need a real adult to take care of you”? Basically reader is sick and Gavi says the prompt. I'm new to this blog so I'm not sure if this is how you take requests. Thank you❣️

deep breaths- pablo gavi [ P.G ]

but I promise you this. I'll always look out for you [sparks- coldplay]

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

summary: taking care of you when sick brings more anxiety for gavi than he'd thought.

genre(s): established relationship, fluff, slight angst

[wc: 2.2k] masterlist

notes: I was sick while writing this and I swear I felt the words float off my screen because my head was spinning like crazy. but this prompt was cute as hell so I hope you enjoy it xx

the house was empty— all the lights were still off, except for the blue hue from the swimming pool's lights that could be seen illuminating through the ceiling to floor window in the living room.

a heavy sigh left your lips when you shut the front door, your sluggish strides heavy and painful as you made your way to the couch so you could catch your breath after today's stress.

you were drowning in university work and assignments and have been staying in the library for excessive hours after classes just to get a grip on whatever was piled on you. this was the fourth time this week that you'd gotten home late which gavi wouldn't be happy about at all.

so when you saw that his car still wasn't in the driveway when you pulled up you thanked the heavens and the fact that he was still at pedri's house. he hated when you over-exerted yourself which you were prone to— being the workaholic that you were.

he never failed to give you a heartfelt scolding whenever this happened, telling you that you needed to eat, reminding you to take a break and even resorting to forcing you out of your chair just to rest with him.

but today you weren't ready for that, not with the way that your head was pounding. when you sat down on the couch a wave of relief washed over you and the urge to succumb to the tiredness sat on your chest but you couldn't fall asleep... you just needed to rest your eyes for a minute.

there was excitement in gavi's strides when he got home, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and not let go until the following day. he just missed you that much to the point where he barely said bye to pedri when he left and got straight into his car.

it was 8:24 p.m. so he knew you'd still be awake, probably in the kitchen baking something seeing as it was friday. every friday you could be caught baking something to distress yourself with a smile and the music playing while you hummed carelessly.

but that wasn't the case today because the house was eerily quiet. gavi didn't like that one bit and immediately called for you, seeing as it was dark. but when he got no response his pace quickened only to find you sprawled on the couch still with your clothes on.

not again, he thought and crouched down beside you.

"amor I'm home," he whispered and nudged you slightly, earning a disgruntled moan from you while you took a bit to wake up.

he watched you sit up with slight worry and it was clear that you hadn't planned on falling asleep judging by your confused expression as you looked around, until you were somewhat coherent.

you looked at your boyfriend with a lopsided smile. "hello baby, how was your day?"

"are you feeling okay?" he asked, brushing off your question and put a hand to your cheek. he wasn't pleased with how warm you were and moved his hand your forehead but you tried to pull it off.

you were screwed, to say the least, because you were burning up. before gavi could even say anything about the matter you pushed the fact that you were fine and tried to stand up. horrible decision. a sharp pain ran through your head and you swore you could feel it in your eye sockets.

a painful groan left your lips and immediately gavi was at your side, his hand carefully around your waist for stability in fear that you were going to fall. "oh no. I knew this was going to happen."

hear it comes.

your eyes shut tightly while gavi rambled on about you being sick, saying that you should have listened to him and not over exert yourself because he knew how bad of a toll it took on you. you loved him, but right now was not the time for a lecture.

"pablo I'm fine." you kissed the back of his hand reassuringly but he couldn't help but feel horrible. "I just need some rest okay?"

"I think you need more than just some sleep baby. this--"

you shook your head slightly, looking directly into his eyes so that he could see that you were fine. "--I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going to sleep. there's no need to worry because I'm fine, okay?"

okay? as if. gavi could see right through you and even though he played it off, the second you hopped into the shower he was already halfway to the pharmacy with his phone in hand, his mother on the line for proper instructions.

he's never actually taken care of someone when they were sick before because funny enough he was always the patient. whether it be an injury or the flu you were taking care of him and now it was his turn to be just as gentle and patient until you felt better.

his mother asked him questions in and out— how high was your temperature? were your muscles aching? were you throwing up? all questions he couldn't answer that well because he just knew that you were sick and needed medication immediately.

"uhm she's hot...? I mean she couldn't walk so I guess so. I don't think she even ate enough to be able to throw up."

the panic in his voice had his mother stressing just as much but she stayed on the line until he got back home and wished him luck because she knew just how stubborn you were when it came to being sick.

when he got home you were sleeping, your eyebrows knitted together in discomfort which made him feel horrible. how was he supposed to take care of you like this? he didn't know what he was doing at all.

but gavi pushed it aside and decided to call it a night and left the bathroom light on just in case. he crept in beside you, making sure to place a soft kiss on your forehead that had gotten significantly warmer than last he checked but he didn't bother waking you.

it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, his arm loosely wrapped around your torso and it was a miracle that he didn't wake up because of all your tossing and turning.

beads of sweat began to form on your forehead and you felt light-headed but still tried your best to at least try and sleep. but you just couldn't, not when you felt this uncomfortable and were in pain.

at some point, you got up for some water to try and soothe whatever you were feeling but then the hot flushes started, and you were struggling to breathe. you were an utter mess, dizzily making your way back to bed while the floor spun beneath you.

short of breath you leant against your bedroom door— and the bang must've been loud because gavi began to stir awake, which was the last thing you wanted. he woke up to the empty space beside him and immediately shot up, his eyes squinted due to the bathroom light being on.

you watched his blurry figure get out of bed, not able to make out what he was saying by the overwhelming feeling of pain and discomfort drowning you. gavi pulled you toward his chest, his hand lightly touching your forehead and neck.

next thing you knew, you were sitting on the bathroom floor unable to catch a proper breath because you were so overwhelmed.

gavi was panicking— his heart racing as well as his thoughts because he just didn't know what to do. the closest he'd gotten to taking care of you was when you were on your period, and his routine had already been drilled in for the past two years you've been together.

he'd have your toiletry cabinet stocked, and your snack cabinet never emptied. your heating pads were always at the ready along with your tea. and your most important necessity— him. you took refuge on his chest in your moments of pain, his hand carefully places over your stomach to soothe the pain.

but this was different. he felt useless, watching you helplessly like a lost puppy.

"it's okay amor, I'm here," he said soothingly and set you against his chest on the bathroom floor, but not even the cold tiles could soothe your increasing temperature.

you fell limp against your boyfriend but fought the urge to break down. instead, a painful groan left your lips, one that had gavi holding onto you tighter in fear.

"it hurts," you croaked while trying to steady your shaky breaths.

"what hurts hm?" it sounded as if he was on the verge of tears and that had your heart shattered. gavi was paranoid by nature, especially when it came to you. so you couldn't begin to imagine what was running through him mind right now.

you took his hand into yours and put it on your chest. "everything. everything hurts."

gavi felt your shaky breaths and sat in silence, unsure of what to say— but he needed to get you that medication immediately. it wasn't going to have an immediate effect and he'd probably have to take you to the doctor tomorrow but as long as it soothed some of your pain.

he got up from the floor as delicately as he could, watching as you tried to sit up by yourself which wasn't what he wanted. "come here, angel." he picked you up with ease, cradling your body gently as you wrapped your legs around his waist and rested your head on his shoulders.

while he walked down the stairs he wondered how you didn't pass out on them on your way to fetch that glass of water. his mind flooded with thoughts like this until he made it to the kitchen and set you down on the island.

"pablo," you said breathlessly and your boyfriend immediately got through the last of your medication and set it down beside you, a worried hum leaving his lips.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and held the pills in front of you. you counted 4 and took each one as quick as possible, the water making no difference to the cooling of your temperature when it travelled down your throat.

by the time you were done, gavi had gotten a fresh cloth and began dabbing it on your neck and forehead. the two of you were enveloped in silence— your head spinning but your boyfriend's fingers resting on the small of your back, tracing small shapes on your skin beneath your shirt.

it was when you let your head rest on his shoulder that gavi felt the need to speak up, just above a whisper. "I have no idea what I'm doing right now."

your heart swelled at the sound of his half-hearted chuckle because for someone who didn't know what he was doing, he was doing a great job. he'd been so patient with you from the second he saw you lying limp on the couch. he held his composure and handled you so gently, taking the initiative and making sure that you felt at least somewhat better.

he didn't see it, but you did and were so grateful.

you left a light kiss on his neck. "don't say that amor. sure I still feel like passing out--"

"--are you serious?" he asked in shock, an upset groan leaving his mouth as he pulled away from you. "this isn't going to work."

"no baby--"

he was panicking. beating himself up for thinking that he could take care of you in this state, what did he know? he was only a child. "oh god, we need a real adult. someone who actually knows what they're doing."

you couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his rambling out of sheer panic. it was endearing in a way, your gaze softening at the innocent glint in his eyes because he was just so adorable. you urged him to calm down, your voice was soft and warm as you pulled him closer to you.

"are you not an adult, hm?" you teased with a smile and cupped his cheeks, and to your surprise, he said no without hesitation.

gavi proceeded to go on about how he still had you treating him like a baby, that you took care of him and that he was utterly useless when it came to helping you. of course, you strongly disagreed because you did feel better.

he stared into your eyes, trying to calm himself down while you reassured him. "do you not make me feel at ease? safe? comfortable? loved?" you kissed him on the cheek when he didn't reply.

"exactly, so stop being ridiculous."

gavi melted at your touch, sinking further into the crook of your neck for another moment before he took you back to bed so that you could get some sleep.

you rested your head on his chest, legs over his because you felt the need to be that close to him tonight. you felt sleep finally settle on your chest at the soothing feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

"I love you."

gavi's chest tightened at the suddenness. he shut his eyes and thanked the universe that you were in his life and kissed the top of your head. "I love you too, cariño."

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cat3ch1sm · 2 months

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This is so awkward, but I was wondering if you could write hcs for if the reader called L, Mello, Near, and Matt "daddy" or "sir" or something else along those lines during sex? 😭 (if not that's totally fine I just got a mental image of Mello being like "what-" and I'm seeking other opinions lol)

🐸~ loll!! don't worry i have gotten much worse requests than this, this isn't at all awkward. this request seemed fun lol i hope u enjoy! i love u lots and thanks for ur support<33

nsfw ahead, gn!reader, sub!reader

how they'd react to being called daddy/sir during sex~ wammy boys

matt

~ it just slipped from your lips in the heat of the moment. you had been really hazy and a bit delirious and matt had been deep inside you when it just popped out. and yes, it did catch him by surprise for about half a second since he wasn't expecting it and it wasn't something you'd ever called him before. but in the same half a second he was caught off guard, matt decided he loved it. he doesn't say anything about it in the moment, but it was the way you said it, with your shaky voice barely coherent and your pretty eyes crossed, overwhelmed with pleasure. matt takes it as a sign that he's doing a really good job, and best believe he makes it his mission to get one of those out of you again every time you two get intimate. on the other hand, expect pretty relentless teasing about it. matt both finds it amusing and a hell of a turn on how easily he can get you off, how he can make you just lose yourself like that.

~ "hey, matt, can you get that over there for me?"

~ "don't you mean daddy?"

~ "you are the worst."

mello

~ mello is someone who enjoys being in control during sex. so when you moan that in this pathetic, trembling voice, pleading with tears pricking the corners of your eyes for him to keep going, it's really such a rush for him. the brief moment of surprise at the unexpected title is quickly swept away by the surge of pride, almost arrogant in its nature. you've fully surrendered yourself to him; your pleasure is in his hands; you've acknowledged his power over your body. he'll probably get rougher in the moment, and later on in future intimate encounters he'll outright make you say it, denying you any release until you do, over and over and over.

near

~ although near does usually prefer it when you both are equals during sex, he can't help the swell of satisfaction in his heart when you call him that. after all, he has an ego like every other man on this list, and near gets something out of being at least somewhat in control, even in your sexual encounters where he does normally prefer not for anyone to be dominant. it's not like he needs to hear you say it every time, but near certainly doesn't mind when you do. besides, it means you like what he's doing and he's making you feel good, which is what he wants most.

ryuzaki

~ he probably spends the most time being surprised out of anybody else on this list. he doesn't have anything against it- besides, it would probably kill the mood if ryuzaki paused mid-sex to ask about it and what brought it on- but he just is somebody who likes having answers. so he may or may not literally interview you about it later- did he do something different? is that something that might happen again? what prompted you to call him that? he must know, even if you can hardly even sit up or form a full sentence yet.

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sporeclan · 2 months

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how do you handle genetics if you do at all in your art

Great question! I'm actually quite the cats genetics nerd and typically when I design my own cat ocs, I go for accurate, realistic genetics. Genetics in ClanGen don't _quiiite_ work that way though, and since I like staying pretty close to the in game sprite's patterns, I'm forced to do the genetics for SporeClan with body/fur shape only.

Since we don't have any SporeClan cats with two in game generated parents as of yet, I made a brand new clan and picked a family from there! I usually try to take a mix of traits from both parents, or go somewhere in between. These two parents here are pretty different, so combined with their already wildly different coat patterns, the siblings look pretty different from eachother. I hope you can still see what I'm trying to portray, though!

One of my FAVOURITE things to do when designing families is giving some of them a unique trait, like the fully pink nose Aphidpeak has passed on to Bubblingspeck, or the full back stripe that both Softrock and Jellyfishfeather inherited from Cypressplume. Also, when cats have parents that are agouti(ticked)/bengal but doesn't inherit the pattern, I still like to include things like the dark feet. I also do this sometimes with white spotting, such as the rings on Softrock's tail.

LASTLY, I do sometimes mess with how I portray the patterning.

Usually when I draw most patterns, I'll draw their underbelly colours with my regular brush, giving them harder lines. But with Softrock, I opted to airbrush in her lighter underbelly, a thing I usually only do with agouti cats, as a nod to her parents. I'll also often mess with just how much the lighter colour goes up (for example, Mousegrove and all her kits have a high amount of the lighter colour, while Dawnpelt and Minklake have barely any)

Anyways, I think that's all.... it's all I can come up with for now, at least :') Hope my ramblings are at least somewhat coherent!

#you all have no idea how much i wanted to instantly burst into tears when i saw jellyfishfeather for the first time #looks EXACTLY like one of my irl cats <3<3<3<3<3 #got extremely attached to him so i want everyone to know he turned out to be transmasc and also became jellyfishstar <3<3<3 #chitchat #ask #i had another family and then a kit from this and that one had kits and i wanted to draw them all for Ultimate Examples Gallore #but i am simply too busy right now to do that :[ sad.......#i will do it if theres any interest though

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icallhimjoey · 7 months

Text

Lost & Found

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like?

You had.

But like this?

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them.

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just.

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?”

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,”

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,”

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows.

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,”

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him.

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.”

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.”

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?”

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?”

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”.

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #icallhimjoey #lost & found #lost and found #part 5

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genshin-side-piece · 2 months

Text

Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 2)

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe. Follow up to Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)

There was no way to tell time in this place. Being miles under the surface meant no windows, which meant no real way to track the light. Wriothesley also didn’t seem that keen on clocks, or maybe, he wasn’t keen on them where you were concerned. It was a clever strategy, hiding something as essential as time from you. Without it, you couldn’t gauge how long it had been since Wriothesley had left you. Nor could you know when he would be back. It might be minutes or it could be hours. You could only guess. What you were certain of was that the time you had been allowed was enough to at least feel marginally better. The hangover you’d suffered from thanks to the alcohol and the unnamed stuff had begun to ease. Though you still felt like you’d been struck by a water bus. Eventually, you found yourself capable of leaving the bed long enough to clean yourself up. It was a relief to finally rid yourself of the gritty taste in your mouth. It made you feel somewhat human again, even if it did nothing to change your circumstances. When you were satisfied, you retreated back to the bed, pulling the sheets and light comforter over you. There you stayed, hiding in the darkness. It lured you into the false belief that you were temporarily safe from the storm that was to come. Given your first encounter, you silently hoped that when he returned, Wriothesley would just leave you be. That he would pick on the fact that you cared as much for his rules as you did him and in turn, he would just go. It wasn’t like there was a rush to explain them anyway. You were a captive with no means of escape. From your point of view, he had all the time in the world to explain his expectations for you. His insistence on doing so first thing, when you weren’t even coherent, betrayed the cool facade that he had maintained since. He was excited. He was eager. No amount of sarcasm or dry humor would ever be able to hide that.

Those emotions further betrayed him upon his eventual return. Wriothesley tried to seem amicable, at least that’s what you thought. His true tone was muffled thanks to the blankets. You really didn’t care anyway. You only hoped he would get the message and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he ripped the blankets away from you, tearing away the illusion of safety you felt you had. “Still sleepy are we?” The wry tone in his voice did nothing to help. Nor did the tray of food he had brought with him. The sight of questionable sausage and what you thought was porridge made your stomach lurch. You tried to look at anything other than him or the tray; the walls, the ceiling, the door he had left open. Wait. Your eyes went back to it. The door, Wriothesley had left it open when he had come in. Either he was confident you wouldn’t try anything or he was testing you. It really didn’t matter. The proverbial door was open and you were prepared to take it.

You only gave the disgusting excuse for food one more glance before you threw it back in his face. Literally. Your hands came up in one swift motion, smacking the tray out from under him. You barely had time to register the way the light reflected off the porcelain bowl as it flew at Wriothesley before you made a break for it. Again with both hands, you gave him a hard shove, throwing him off just enough to squeak by and make a break for the open door. Around you, silverware clanged as it hit the floor. Glass and porcelain shattered leaving little cuts on your exposed skin, and a very distinctive grunt followed you as you desperately tried to get away. Wriothesley’s hand in your hair ended any hope of that coming true. You hadn’t even made it a handful of steps when the force of which he pulled you back ripped a scream out of you. One moment you were vertical. The next you were facing the ceiling, back pressed firmly into the lumpy mattress as Wriothesley snatched a hold of one of your wrists. “Oh” He let out a dry laugh, that same dangerous glint returning to his eyes. “You want to fight do you? Well-” With his free hand he reached down, detaching the cuffs from his belt. “Let’s fight.” One look at them told you his intentions. With a garbled scream, you kicked at him again. This time though he was ready. Wriothesley maneuvered his hips between your flailing legs. The best you could do was smack him square in the ass with your calf. An action he seemed to enjoy, based on the smirk he gave you after you landed your first strike. “Give it to me.” Meaning your other hand. His tone was flat, expectant, and generally uninterested. To your horror, your escape attempt had done little to rile him up. Instead, he patiently held out one hand, while the other kept a grip on the wrist he had since locked in his handcuffs. “You’re already going to be punished for refusing your food. It’s only going to get worse for you if I have to reach under you and get that hand myself. Do yourself a favor and give it to me.” You still refused, vehemently shaking your head no. It was a foolish move on your part. You were all too aware of that. The smart decision would be to cooperate with him. To obey him this one time in the hope that he offered you some form of clemency. That wasn’t the decision you made though. Instead, you chose to refuse. You chose to fight. Two things you had been denied thanks to how he’d had you abducted. Two things you were all too prepared to give him in spades. All things considered, It was no less than he deserved. Wriothesley could only sigh at your refusal. He almost managed looking mournful for a moment, but it was short lived. The cocky smirk returned before he could finish his next statement. “You really want me to be the bad guy, don’t you?” Your response was to try to tuck your arm even further behind you, cementing your choice to disobey him rather than concede. “Foolish.” He clicked his tongue. “I suppose you’re really no different than the rest. Seems you’ll just have to learn this lesson the hard way.” There was only a brief shrug of his shoulders before Wriothesley finally followed through on one of his threats. All it took was one pull.

You screamed again, the metal of the cuff around your one wrist digging into your flesh to an extreme degree as he drug your entire body off the bed. The pain that shot through your body was horrific. It felt like he was trying to rip your arm off from the force alone. Nevermind thin cuts and bruises left by the steel he had locked around your wrist. It was a foregone conclusion that he was going to get what he wanted. The force from the pull had wrenched what control you had away from you. Your body flailed in a tangle of limbs as you tried to catch yourself from falling face first onto the metal floor. He caught you, barely, but he made sure that you didn’t land into the pool of gray gunk that was congealing on the floor. Instead, you were wrenched up by your waist long enough for your other wrist to be captured in the steel of his cuffs. From there you were unceremoniously dumped onto a clean part of the floor and left to wait.

There was no quip that followed your escape attempt. No snide comment or even the faintest hint of judgment. Just a cold glare as he removed the longer chain from his outfit. The rattling bounced off the metal walls, causing you to flinch at the noise. While your headache had temporarily subsided, the piercing noise of metal echoing off of metal seemed to bring it roaring back. You whimpered, but only enough so he wouldn’t hear you over the jostling of his outfit. Thankfully he was kind enough to be quick about it, but only because removing the offending chain was easy work for him. The fact that he was punishing you to the point that you felt your ears would bleed was an inconsequential detail. You half expected him to say you deserved it. “I’ll only say this once.” He rotated the chain until he had an end in each hand. “Do as I ask. Don’t make me use force again.” Implying you wouldn’t like what would happen. Considering your present circumstances, you were fairly sure you wouldn’t. He’d already had you kidnapped and personally manhandled you without much provocation. To push him much further, at least at present, might result in a situation that was altogether unpleasant. “Hands” He gestured for you to lift your cuffed hands, which after a slight hesitation, you did. It wasn’t a leap to figure out his next move. One end of the chain found its way around the connecting link of the cuffs, while the other stayed firmly in his hand. “Up.” He moved his hand and you half expected another gesture, but instead he held it out to you, offering it as a means of assistance should you need it. An entirely gentlemanly gesture, from a brute of a man. You ignored it, awkwardly pushing yourself onto your wobbly legs. The effort to right yourself was a struggle. The failed escape attempt and subsequent fight after had drained what little energy you had woken up with away. Your legs felt no better than jelly. Standing on them or worse trying to walk on them would require a specific level of effort that you weren’t sure you possessed. The decision to not eat was a poor one. Even if the food was revolting, you probably should have seized the chance to get something in your aching stomach. At least then you could still the shaking that was quickly working its way across your entire body.

Wriothesley didn’t give you time to fret over it nor did he wait for you to fully steady yourself. The brief show of gentlemanly behavior was forgotten almost as quickly as it was offered. He yanked the chain hard, dragging you through the doorway and into the empty room beyond with little trouble or care. You stumbled, falling to your hands and knees against the rough metal floor, the sharp edges of the cold metal cutting into your exposed flesh even more. The sting from the metal biting your skin made you wince, not that Wriothesley noticed. He kept walking, pulling the chain tighter the further away he got. The silent demand from him was that you keep up; whether it was by walking or crawling. He didn’t seem to mind which. He only wanted you to follow until he ordered you to stop. Then he would move on to whatever humiliation he had planned next. Your cheeks burned at the very thought of it. How dare he. You had half a mind to repay his rough behavior with some of your own, but you weren’t nearly as strong as him. Given his size, you doubted you would be able to shift him. At most, you pulling on the chain or refusing to go any further would be a mild jerk against his hand. An inconvenience for him at worst. Hardly worth the energy or the struggle considering your current predicament.

“Rule number one.” His voice drew you from your thoughts, pulling your attention back to him. He strode to the center of the room, bending down to loop the chain through a d-ring that was bolted to the floor. “You are the master of your own treatment here.” You stared up at him through the fringe of your lashes as he stood to his full height. “Call it irony” He shrugged. “But I don’t like the idea of punishing you. It took quite a bit of work on my part to bring you here. I even paid extra for the deluxe delivery.” Were you supposed to be impressed by that? It was laughable to consider that he expected you to fall all over yourself and thank him for taking such care with your abduction. Yet one look at him told you, that was exactly what he wanted, or rather he expected your compliance as a result of his supposed care of you. A trade. A bargain. An insult. In your mind, if he had the nerve to kidnap you, then the very least he could do was see to your safety during said act. Anything afterwards, like now, was a different transaction. Something you weren’t entirely interested in participating in unless it involved your unconditional release. “So bearing that in mind, I suggest you consider your actions or rather your reactions in the future. I don’t want to get rough with you, but as you’ve seen, I’m not above doing it.”

“My actions?” He didn’t bother to hide his surprise when you finally broke your silence. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall ever having someone kidnapped for any reason, let alone to satisfy my own vanity.” He was quick. Despite his surprise, Wriothesley was able to volley a response back to you or rather he tried too. “That’s not-” You scoffed looking away for a moment. Any excuse or justification would go as far as his own lips. You didn’t want to hear them. You didn’t care about them. Clearly, based on your own feelings, they didn’t matter. Nothing could justify what he had done to you, nor would it justify anything that would happen in the future. You could spend a thousand years with him and still call him a stranger. Above you, he let out a long breath. Your refusal to hear him had given him pause. You could tell those cold eyes were still firmly fixed on your face. He was intently watching every single thing you did. You knew he was. When you finally decided to turn back, your eyes met his. They had never left you. He merely traded the view of your face for the back of your head and vice versa. Beneath the surface, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling within his eyes. He wasn’t as confident as he appeared. Wriothesley had worries, he had concerns. There was even what you felt was a twinge of doubt if you looked long enough.

In turn, his eyes read and judged every emotion, every expression that you didn’t bother to hide. They saw your anger, your confusion, and even your own fear. You hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet, but you were every bit afraid as you were angry. In the span of a night, your life had become the property of someone else. He could do anything he wanted with it. You were powerless in stopping him from doing anything he wanted. Your current predicament was proof of that. “Look, I-” He let out another sigh. “I don’t want our first true interaction to happen this way. Please don’t be like this.” Please don’t fight. That’s what he meant. Just submit to his wishes and desires. Don’t make him beg, don’t make him force you. A not so impassioned plea from a man who was a stranger to you. He was trying his best to placate the fury that was radiating off your body, but the wound he had inflicted with his actions was far too fresh for it to work. “I’m happy to make nice with you. I’ll chalk the escape attempt up to the fact that you’re still adjusting. Perhaps I was being a tad unrealistic with how long it would take you to work through everything. Though-” There was a long pause after that. “in truth I would like an apology. You nearly burned half my face off with hot porridge.” He gestured to the side of his face as some sort of reference. You silently stared back, wishing you had. There was a chance you would have gotten away or at the very least put some much needed space between you and him. “Come on. I’m giving you an easy out here. Just apologize and we can move forward. It will make things easier for us both if you do. Believe me when I say that I would rather spend the limited time I do have with you doing anything else but fighting with or punishing you.” Swallowing, you silently noted that he was in for a rude awakening. “I would rather be at home, in my own bed. But we can’t always get what we want, can we?” A chill washed over the room. You weren’t sure if it was him or you, but you felt it all the same. “Instead I find myself at the mercy of a lunatic!” Your voice shook as the fear began to overtake your anger. The lack of food was fueling your desperation, which in turn was driving both your fear and your anger. You could feel yourself slowly losing control. It was a vicious cycle, which was reaching its conclusion at a rapid place. “I have no intention of playing this sick game of yours.” His entire body sagged in what you could only guess was disappointment.

“God-” He rubbed his scared eye with his free hand. “I truly didn’t think you would be this stubborn.” His hand fell back to his side as he stared at you with fondness. “It’s cute though. I like someone with a little bite to them. Makes things interesting. Still, I was hoping you would get the message right off the bat. But, if you insist we spend this time this way, then so be it. I will be all too happy to give you what you are so eager to earn.” He wrapped a length of chain around his hand, tightening what was left between you and him, pulling your arms towards the d-ring. You had to inch forward on your knees, just to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. “I will, out of the kindness of my heart, forgive earlier. Before I left for my meeting I did tell you that you could be upset with me and in that spirit, I suppose you were only doing as you were told. I can’t fault you for it.” He wrapped another length around his hand, pulling the chain even tighter and you ever closer. “Just now though.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he silently recalled what had just transpired. “I’m afraid I can’t forgive that. Refusals, altercations, and escape attempts are strictly forbidden from here on out. As I mentioned, you are the master of your own treatment. Behave and we can co-exist peacefully. I might even consider special privileges if I’m convinced you’re sincere in your behavior.” Refuse him or fight him or even try to escape him and you would end up where you were now or possibly somewhere far worse.

In retrospect, you knew your current predicament was fairly mild compared to the ways he could make you suffer. Humiliation, starvation, degradation, and pain were only the first steps. There were bones that hadn’t been shattered, flesh that hadn't been marked, limbs that hadn’t been removed. You and he had a long way to go before you reached the point of no return, and that’s if you ever got there. In the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t last that long. He would break you long before you ever got to that point. “Am I being clear?” “What-” Tears stung at your eyes for the first time, closing your throat and forcing you to momentarily choke on your own words. You didn’t want to admit defeat so easily, but what other choice did you have? This was his world. Even if you managed to get free, no one within the fortress or outside of it would help you. He could easily send the guardes or even himself after you. The general population of Fontaine wouldn’t question why a fugitive from the fortress was being hunted. The assumption would be you were just another escaped convict. A threat that the Duke himself felt he needed to personally handle.

It was only then that you realized your disappearance probably hadn’t even been noted. It had been the weekend when you had gone out. Work had been tiresome and the promise of a day off meant you had the chance to blow off some much needed steam. With that in mind, there would be no one to miss you if you didn’t show up the next day. Same for the day after. By the time you did have to return to work, Wriothesley would have had plenty of time to cover your tracks. He could make your disappearance seem quite ordinary. Maybe you had run away to Sumeru, you had been talking about it or perhaps that serial killer got you. Wouldn’t that give your co-workers something to talk about? Maybe no one would even notice. People came and went from your place of work everyday. It wasn’t that unusual for someone to be there one day and gone the next. The reality of that hit you harder than the sedative had. No one could help you. No one would save you. Not a single soul, outside of those involved, knew you were here. No one, outside of the man standing above you, cared.

You choked back a sob as that information sunk in. It was loud enough and perhaps distraught enough that Wriothesley drew his brows together in genuine concern. From your vantage point you could see he wanted to check on you, to ask if you were alright, but he held his tongue. He just stood there, staring at you as hot tears spilled freely down your cheeks. “What do you want?” A pregnant pause followed that. As if the answer was stupidly obvious to everyone, except you.

“I would think that is rather plain.” You looked up at him again through tear stained lashes, sniffling as he moved closer. “I want you.” Your throat bobbed, thickly swallowing the rising panic that was filling your body. You racked your brain, trying to think of any reason as to how or why this happened. How had an excuse me, an introduction, and have a nice day translated into you being in chains at his feet? The encounter between you had only lasted seconds. In your own mind, there was no feasible way a chance meeting could have this result, unless the meeting itself wasn’t by chance.

Your eyes flew back to his face as your mind began to put all the puzzle pieces together. Chocolates, flowers, perfumes, and even lingerie had been sent to you in droves over the course of the year. Your mind whirled, suddenly recalling all the other strange or odd occurrences that had happened, especially in the last few weeks or so. The feeling of eyes watching you everywhere you would go. Strangers scribbling notes when they thought you weren’t looking. Your clothes, namely your underwear turning up missing every time you took your things to the laundress. The door to your apartment being unlocked despite you remembering that you had locked it. God. Your eyes got wider as the full picture came together. A year. Oh god, he had been watching you for a year. “Look who finally figured it out.”

On instinct, you tried to pull away, but his foot slamming down on the chain brought that plan to a decided halt. Your body jerked with the chain, a frustrated whine escaping your throat as you continued to struggle against the cuffs. Escape in this case was utterly futile. You knew that. The chain that was connected to your wrists was firmly in his hand. Even if you managed to get away from him, the room you were in only had one visible door; the chamber from which you had just come. The exit you could not see, the one that would take you to the rest of the fortress was almost assuredly locked. Then there was the fortress itself. A maze of locked doors and heavy bars. If the building itself didn’t stop you, then the guardes most certainly would. All Wriothesley needed to do was raise the alarm and he could have your right back where you were now in a matter of minutes. “You know-” Your eyes met his again, noting the hints of malice that were beginning to swirl in the icy blue depths. “I never believed that you didn’t fully know.” He leaned down, resting an arm on his thigh as the slack portion of the chain rattled in the background. “I told myself that no one was that unobservant of their surroundings.” A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong. Seems like all those nights where my anxiety kept me awake were in vain. You had no clue, did you?” He furrowed his brow, gently chuckling again. “Did you ever think to ask? Did you just assume someone was sending you gifts and that would be that?” You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, maybe leave another scar while you were at it. “Of course I asked.” Since you couldn’t slap him, you tried to add some venom to your voice, hoping it would compensate for your lack of movement. “I spoke to the couriers and the stores. No one knew. They all said the same thing. All the orders had come with the necessary payment by mail via an unmarked envelope.” There had been no indication of where the letters had originated from. The only thing worth noting about them was the simple stationary on which they had come. The paper lacked the ornate embellishment that was associated with the upper class, yet the paper itself was of a high enough quality that you could discern the sender had money. That theory had been further proven based on the gifts he had sent. Everything you had received was from the finest shops in the Court and of the highest quality. They had all cost well above what the average admirer could spend. That had told you that your devotee was at least well to do. Wriothesley, as the Duke of Meropide, was certainly that. “I thought that when my admirer was ready, they might be normal and present themselves properly.” Not have you abducted and brought to the bottom of the sea. “Because that would have gone oh so well.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sure that I’m exactly what you were expecting, hm?” He wasn’t.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the obvious. Wriothesley had been the last person you had been expecting. Worse though, was the thought of the Administrator of the Fortress coming to your door for no explicable reason. Even with flowers in hand, the idea was a terrifying one. The Duke of Meropide wasn’t exactly a celebrated figure in the eyes of the citizens of Fontaine. While his rise to prominence certainly made him an enigma, the few that knew what he looked like, tended to avoid him at all costs. To see the Duke or any officers of the law on your street was often a sign that trouble was soon to follow. If you had known that Wriothesley was your admirer or if he had shown himself to be interested in you in a normal way, it was entirely likely that you would have run. Even knowing that you had committed no crimes in the eyes of the law, the risk of having him so close was one you didn’t want to take. The goal of every citizen was to avoid the fortress and all of those associated with it. You weren’t excluded from that. “See the dilemma?” Your first reaction was to fix your eyes to the floor, while you felt the first twinges of embarrassment creep their way up your neck. “Kid- kidnapping isn’t exactly a viable solution.” You raised your eyes to him again, trying to make that sound as harsh as possible. “Neither is this, for the record.” He just laughed. “If we’re adding things to the record, then throwing hot porridge in the administrator's face isn’t exactly the smartest of moves. Neither is disobeying my orders or trying to escape.” You squirmed, stupidly pulling on the chain as your own frustration spiked. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” He laughed again. This time, his laughter echoed off the walls, hurting your ears.

“You hadn’t done anything wrong.” Until you threw the food in his face, and kicked him, and disobeyed him, and tried to escape. “I don’t think I need to list the crimes for you. I’m sure you’re aware.” Crimes? Your mind whirled at the very mention of the word. It was inconceivable to think that you had done anything wrong.

Fresh tears stung at your eyes as the frustration his words caused you, washed over you. No. It couldn’t be. You were innocent. He had abducted you. He had tricked you. You weren’t his prisoner. “But as the administrator of the fortress, it is at my discretion on how you are punished.” Wriothesley stood to his full height, reaching for something in his pocket. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t have time to deal with that.” He produced a medium sized lock, which was promptly attached to the chain and the d-ring, forcing you to hold your position at his feet. “I have more meetings. I suppose for now-” He mockingly thought about it for a moment. “Your punishment can be that you get to think about how you’re going to make it up to me or maybe, you reconsider your attitude. If not, then perhaps I’ll have to get slightly more strict with you.” From your vantage point, you watched his eyes drift away from you, focusing on something behind you. There was only one thing that could be; the room you’d woken up in, the bed. “Seems cruel to consider.” Your eyes went wide at the thoughts that were running through your head. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “I’d hate to do it.” Wait. “But maybe I was too nice at the beginning.” No. “Maybe I’ll just leave that with you though.” His focus came back to you. “Based on your expression, you get my meaning. Persist on your current path though-” His tone developed a steely, authoritative hardness to it that you didn’t like. “And perhaps I’ll go against my better judgment and make you earn things like a bed and hot food, at least until I can be assured that you don’t need too. That’s if I can be assured at all.” You blindly shook your head as you realized this man intended to keep you indebted to him for the rest of your life. “No? Well-” There was an odd chuckle that followed that. “Tell you what.” A long pause stretched out between you. He waited, oh so patiently for you to finally look up at him before he opted to continue. “I might be inclined to go easy on you. If you decide you’re ready to behave.” If. It had the same inflection as before, though this one possessed more doubt than its predecessor had “Let’s test the waters. I’ll give you something easy, something simple. I bet you couldn’t take more than that, could you? By now, I’m sure you’re feeling a little drained.” There was a brief moment where you thought to challenge him on that. Drained wasn’t the right word for it. Exhausted maybe? Famished and dehydrated; absolutely. In your mind though, you believed you could take all he threw at you and more, but your cramping stomach and oncoming dizziness told you otherwise. Your body had been taken to its physical limit. It couldn’t handle anything more; not without getting food into you first. “Let’s try… you giving me a smile again. That seems like a simple thing. I’ll even sweeten the deal. Give me a smile and I’ll bring you a little something to eat. I bet you’re pretty starved by now. Some fresh bread or maybe even some fruit, surely that’s enough to get me a smile?” It shouldn’t have been. In any normal circumstance, it wouldn’t have been. Had you been back in the court, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. But here, in his world, you didn’t have that luxury. Here he could determine every detail of your life, including when you ate next. Considering you had already gone a day, you briefly wondered how cruel he could be. Wriothesley ran both hot and cold. His reactions shifted between the two with frightening regularity. It made him difficult to read in a situation like this, which was why you had to consider your answer carefully.

There was no winning here, you knew that. Wriothesley had stacked the deck against you long before your kidnapping and arrival. Now he’d dealt you the losing hand he’d prepared for you. If you refused, would he cave due to his own feelings for you and bring you a meal anyway or would he demand an even higher toll for your next meal? Would he let you starve if you refused to pay that price? How many meals would he allow you to miss before the inevitable happened. How many could you stand to miss before you yourself gave in? Upon further review, a smile was easy. It was simple. It wouldn’t tax your fatigued state any further. You could just give it to him to make him go, but again that carried risk. Once meant always. Always meant forever. There would never be a time where you would be able to refuse him without running the risk of being punished. One frown could send you right back to where you were. “Well?” You didn’t want to.

“I-“ You drew in a slow steadying breath, trying to calm the emotions that were running through you. At this stage, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to lunge at him and you wanted to do it, all at once. You couldn’t though. Even if you felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t give in just yet. For now, you had to remain in control. “I hate you.” Above you, he released an incredulous scoff.

“Believe me, I’m aware.” His nonchalance about this whole thing only served to irritate you further. He was acting as if everything that had happened between you was a normal thing. As if he kidnapped and manhandled and humiliated people everyday.

“So why should I smile at you if I hate you?” You swallowed as your eyes found his again. He towered over you, giving the answer very little thought.

“Because I asked you too.” You hated how his tone sounded almost thoughtful. “Let me be perfectly clear, unless the world is about to end or you are deathly ill, I will be your sole companion here. That means you will rely on me for everything.” And the fruits of that reliance were determined based on how well behaved you were. In his words, you were the master in your own treatment, which meant you decided your own fate. “We can keep on this path, if you like. I can play the mean warden just as easily as I can the affable fellow. It makes no difference to me how we get there, just so long as you understand we will get there in the end. One day those defenses of yours will crumble and that anger you currently feel will give way to something else.” Was he implying you would fall in love with him? “It happens to everyone down here. Some get angry, some are perfectly fine with it.” “I will never be fine with it or this.” He smirked again, a gentle spark of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We’ll see. I tend to have a pretty good handle on people, especially when it comes to how they’re going to react to certain things. You’re no exception.” His head tilted slightly. “But keep telling yourself whatever you need to keep that fire in you burning. I’m beginning to find your anger endearing. You’re cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” He chuckled, his smirk growing larger when the sound only served to make you angrier. “Maybe I’ll lock down the pankration ring one day, just so we can spar. It might be fun to turn you loose for a little while, if for no other reason other than to get my hands on you. But I suppose that depends on one thing?” You let out a heavy breath, grinding your teeth in mild frustration. “What?” “Will you smile or not?”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #yandere wriothesley #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin fanfic #yandere genshin impact fanfic #genshin fiction #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fiction

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lumienyx · 6 months

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Hi! Could you write some soft BDSM featuring gn Tav?

i saw 'soft BDSM' and my brain immediately went to lightning play, i have no excuses sorry. hope you enjoy💙

soft shocks

Rating: E | Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader | Words: 1,321

Tags: Gender-Neutral Tav, Smut, Plot What Plot, Light BDSM, Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, inappropriate use of magic, lightning play, listen Astarion gets… creative in the bedroom, that's it that's the plot

Read on AO3 or continue under the cut ↓

~~~

You feel the first kiss of pain against your hip, a sizzling sensation trailing soft shocks along your skin.

The moan comes unbidden, and you find yourself leaning into Astarion’s touch, chasing that tantalizing feeling of pain and pleasure bleeding into one. Flashes of lightning flicker around Astarion’s hands, a gentle sting following in their wake up your sides as his fingers move to hover above your chest.

“All right, darling?” Astarion asks, even as a smirk tugs at his lips. “I warned you it would hurt.”

“’s amazing,” you gasp, your voice straining with want. “Please.” The magic still reverberates along your skin with a welcome warmth after the momentary soreness.

“I do so love it when you beg.”

“Ah. ”

It's not electricity that pulsates through Astarion’s fingers now as he starts playing with your nipples—there’s just the heat of magic coating his hand. But even just the promise of pain sets you alight with tingling thrumming along your limbs. He squeezes, and tugs, and caresses as you writhe under his weight, relishing the cool skin against yours which runs white-hot in comparison. You press your hips against his, pleading silently now as coherence slips away. All that’s left for you to voice are wanton groans and breathy gasps amid barely understandable whispers for more and please.

Astarion only grins at you, satisfaction and mischief lighting up his eyes.

He kisses you then, tender and languid in contrast to his touch.

He teases your lips with his tongue before pulling away, too quick for you to catch him back into a kiss you crave more of.

You moan as he mouths down to your neck to place playful and painful bites that almost sink into your skin but not quite, while his hands set the rest of your body on fire.

There's the lightning shocks that follow Astarion’s touch as he strokes the inside of your thighs, the bottom of your belly, your hip bones, anywhere and everywhere save for where you want it most. And maybe your begging is enough for him—maybe it’s too much—but Astarion grants your wish soon enough, at least in part. He times the bite on your neck that finally does break skin with a featherlight electric shock right above your groin that stokes your arousal even more. So much so that it's the absence of him inside you that hurts most, not the sting of lightning and not the bite.

And as he drinks, you hope he leaves another, deeper mark. Evidence of his claim on you. You lean into his mouth, feeling the fangs lodge in further, harder. You feel light-headed already, and it's too much yet not enough. It’s exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure, how your body yearns to fight for survival while your mind craves to give in to Astarion completely.

You love how he drinks so deeply and hungrily from you, how his zeal betrays the coy smirks and the teasing, revealing just how much he wants you, too. The thought draws a chuckle out of you—and you get a flare of lightning along your side in retaliation as Astarion withdraws.

“Whatever is so amusing, sweet love?” There’s a teasing hint of a playful threat in Astarion’s voice, even as he breathes somewhat shallowly. “Do share.”

His hands still thrum with magic as they’re stroking and kneading where he knows you’re most sensitive. There’s barely any presence of mind left in you to talk, yet you manage,

“Wondering how long you can keep this up before you lose control,” your voice weak and trembling. Honestly, it does always sound so much better in your head.

Astarion huffs out a laugh in turn. “As long as I need to get you to beg.”

“I already did!”

“Maybe.” Astarion leans in to mouth the words against your ear, making the sensitive skin there prickle from the cool breath. “I’d like to hear it again.”

“Astarion—”

“Again.”

“I…” Surrender is sweet when it’s him that you fall to, completely unarmed against that piercing gaze. “Please.”

“Please what?” Astarion drawls, voice low and silken, almost a whisper.

His pupils are blown so wide there's just a thin red rim around them, his face slightly flushed from the blood he’s drunk, lips parted and streaked crimson. His eyes show it all—he’s lost in the pleasure just as you are lost in him.

“Please, please, please fuck me.”

Astarion doesn’t make you wait anymore—maybe he can’t, either. He makes such short work of getting rid of his trousers and mounting your legs on his shoulders, you can’t help but think maybe there's a chance he can get lost in you, too.

You've long been ready for him, aching with it. That simmering heat is now fire searing from your core to every nerve in your body as Astarion slides inside you, agonizingly slow, as ever careful not to hurt even as you both crave the connection. He stretches you wide, fills you perfectly like you were made to fit one another. You pull him closer, urge him deeper, and he says something about you being oh so eager—but you’re too far gone now to discern the words properly.

The only sound you really hear is just the raw, crispy-sweet cadence of Astarion’s voice.

The only sensation you can focus on is all the places your skin touches his.

His lips once more paint your neck with lightning-bright kisses. There are the hands digging into your hips, no doubt lovingly bruising them for tomorrow. There’s the feel of him buried deep inside you, fucking into you faster and harder with each thrust.

You’re completely gone by then, split in-between tingling touches, sharp kisses, searing bites, and the slick slide of Astarion’s cock inside you. It feels so hot—too hot, too good—overwhelmingly so. He whispers sweet nothings against your skin and all you can answer with are broken moans and whimpers.

The release hits you hard and sudden, knocking the breath out of you as you clench around Astarion and dig your nails into his back. Your limbs seem to lose all control, trembling and twitching as you ride it out. But Astarion is still moving inside you, the friction building up the heat all over again. You squeeze your eyes shut against the onslaught—you can’t—you’re too sensitive—you want to tell him, but all that comes out is another choked groan as your body keeps singing with the orgasm he doesn’t let end…

“That fast, darling, really?” Astarion’s voice is the first thing you hear when you come to. Then your heavy panting mingling with the stray whimpers that still escape as you shudder from the aftershocks. “Still with me?”

“Mm,” you try, still catching your breath. “Think so.”

A cool hand covers your cheek. Astarion runs his thumb against your lashes, coaxing your eyes to open.

“I did promise to take you apart, didn't I?” Astarion tries for a coy smile but you see the desperate need glinting in his eyes, the slight trembling of his hand that’s gripping you by your side. Like he’s hanging on to the last vestiges of his control.

You're only coherent enough to reach up for a messy kiss, thrusting your tongue into his mouth and savoring the closeness, the taste tinged with hints of salt and iron from your own blood. He’s still hard and heavy inside you, shifting as you move but staying motionless himself, waiting for your next move. You purposefully tighten around him, then, satisfied by the muffled groan it earns you. You grip him by the waist, pulling him closer, impossibly deeper.

“I believe,” you whisper against his lips, “you promised I’d forget my name by the time you’re done with me. I still remember mine,” you tease him.

“My sweet.” Astarion’s lips curl into a wicked grin. “I'm only just getting started.”

~~~

thank you for the read💙 would love any and all feedback if you liked it :3

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

@satanicspinosaurus, @tallymonster, @tragedybunny

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #gender neutral reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion fanfic

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fatuismooches · 9 months

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Just thinking about reader getting hurt while out doing commissions or something and Dottore absolutely seething silently... Reader is just out gathering materials, nothing unusual. Until some random fatuus come along. Now I like to imagine Dottore tries to keep their relationship somewhat secret? For they're safety and simply for privacy, so most people don't know that they're Dottore's lover. Now, they didn't exactly expect some random agents to come up to them, and especially ones that don't seem so friendly... (I mean, maybe standing around in the cold all day doing nothing gets you rather bored and tempermental...) They probably try to talk it out politely, but the agents simply don't give up, either out of boredom to annoy someone or they accuse you for sneaking around (Since they look like a normal citizen.) Of course, being Dottore's lover, they're by no means weak. But one of the agent's still manages to land a good hit on them with an electro delusion, and they're on the ground before they know it (I doubt being struck by lightning is very nice...) Thankfully the other agent's saw the commotion by the camp and came over, fatui agent's don't typically beat up their own citizens without good reason... Fastforward and they're being held in a medical ward. One of Dottore's subordinates recognizes them and immediately informs him. (To which he is seething. The scalpel that was in his hand was bent backwards from how hard he was gripping it.) Everyone can only clear the path for the harbinger as his footsteps echo through the halls. He insists on taking care of they're wounds, and despite all the atrocities he's ever committed with his hands, those hands are so gentle on them... He will find out who hurt them, no matter if they want to tell him or not. And this doesn't apply to just being physically harmed. Someone made them cry? He'll strangle whoever did that and make it hurt. (All while the clones comfort you of course! <3) And I also think in the akademiya he was the same, but his anger wasn't really as quiet... He would chastise you whenever you got clumsy in a fight and end up injured, scolding you and insulting you while patching you up (He is horribly worried about you getting fatally injured, he just has no idea how to express it without being mean) Some so called scholar won't leave you alone about extorting you to do their work? He'll dig up dirt on them and ruin their lives. (He will deny having anything to do with it.) (This is so long... I really didn't mean to, but I'm really bad at getting my thoughts out in a short manner. I hope at least some of it is coherent, your Dottore works always makes me bounce off the walls <3)

ADWUIDEUD OEEDN ITNDDD WHTAT THI IS MAKING ME BOUNCE OFF THE WALLS TOO??? I don't even know what to add, it's already so good 😫

Unlike Dottore, you can't stay cooped up in a lab all day, you like to get some fresh air (even if you're getting hit by some angry snowflakes) while running some errands for him so the clones don't have to bother doing them. Most people just thought of you as his average assistant, which was good considering Dottore doesn't have the time or patience to deal with the gossiping or rumors regarding him and especially not you (also definitely not the other Harbingers...)

Unfortunately, that has a drawback, which is the fact that some Fatui liked to mess with you since they thought you were a mere easily replaceable assistant. You've dealt with some in the past and sent them on their way, not telling Dottore because you wouldn't want to waste his time with unimportant things like this. This time, however, you weren't so lucky... fighting in such a snowy and slippery landscape was not your expertise... and you ended up with a rather nasty wound. You've gone through worst, but it still hurt, you know?

When Dottore is interrupted from his research, he's initially upset but as soon as the words fly out of the agent's mouth in a hurried and terrified manner (because everyone is scared to even be in his presence much less report to him) it appears like all of that annoyed energy is gone as he asks the agent to repeat himself. And it feels like the room has dropped in temperature, the Doctor's face expressionless as he easily snaps the scalpel, the clanging of it to the floor making the agent's face pale. Dottore doesn't even waste time killing the agent as he simply leaves to go to you. (That subordinate is crying himself to sleep later 😭)

Literally all noise in the camp stops as soon as the 2nd Harbinger comes, he takes one look at you and just takes you out of there (his lab is far more equipped than this pitiful place) It's been a long time since Zandik tended to your wounds, you usually never get hurt since you're quite careful or you always have a clone, so it's a bit nostalgic and heartwarming to feel his hands being so tender... cleaning and applying a salve... wrapping it carefully himself, etc 🥺 He won't press you for answers, because he'll find out he did it really quickly anyway and kill them with no remorse or emotion (he's such a silly!)

UGHHHH AKADEMIYA DOTTORE MY FAV <3 100% correct nonnie 🤭 His lecturing and scolding you hurt you MORE than the wound 😭probably 😭 He would go on and on about wtf were you thinking, you shouldn't have done that, you need to be more careful. Only this is how he expresses his worry since he doesn't know how to cope with caring about someone this much so he just resorts to mean words in hopes you can somehow translate "do you want to die, fool? how can you jump in there like an idiot?" to "you scared me and i don't want you to do that again, i don't like seeing you hurt"

Zandik is a good liar... until the topic of ruining someone's life comes up! You just know he had something to do with it. But... the idea of him sacrificing sleep to make the life of your harasser miserable, instead of using the time to do research, that's how you know you've got him 🤭💖

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #i am absolutely so in love w the idea of dottore going even more batshit crazy when his partner is hurt #bro would literally not let ANYTHING slide #even if someone merely looked at you in the wrong way or distastefully ur done. wiped from existence.

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pennylime · 5 months

Text

been on that world trigger brainrot fr (also a theory below the art) (long post)

I have a whole au living in my brain abt if yuma lives lmao. Maybe I'll sketch or talk abt it if anyone's interested.

Also, a theory I've been keeping to myself for years bcuz it's probably wrong:

Amo is the black trigger assassin. HEAR ME OUT !! I can't be the only one who's thought abt this at least a bit, right????

1. We haven't seen Amo's black trigger yet.

For triggers being so prominent, why haven't we seen Amo's? During Afto's invasion, we could have seen Amo's trigger, but we only got to see the aftermath. We also have no idea how he came into possession of it. We know it's VERY strong and VERY destructive. Kind of like an assassin we've heard of, yes? The assassin tore Yuma apart in a second, but it was only in like, small blasts? for lack of a better term. So the two are different in that aspect, but it's also been years since then, so Amo could have the room to improve.

2. Yuma hasn't met Amo yet.

Yuma has met like, almost everyone? Or has heard or seen them in passing? We've seen most of the squads, and were seeing more in the away missions test right now, and how they fight, their motives, and their skill level. Like, Yuma knows Amo exists, I'm pretty sure Amo knows Yuma exists, and yet they haven't met. Somehow. Seems kinda sus to me.

3. Kind of stupid, but Amo's hair and the assassin's is a little similar lmao.

Self explanatory. They do look different, but there's a three year difference, so yea.

4. We know next to nothing abt Amo.

We know his age, what he looks like, that he's anti-social, and doesn't really know how to reign in his power or that he really cares to. BUT we have no idea who is parents are, or WHERE he came from, or even when he joined border (that I can remember). He could be a neighbor, but he very may well be not.

5. We don't know what the assassin looks like.

We could chalk it to Yuma's memory, having the flashback being from his perspective and only seeing the assassin for a split second, but it also leaves a TON of possibilities of who they can be.

All of these put together COULD be deliberate. There has to be a reason!!! Like, waiting for a big reveal. Amo's mysterious nature really puts him up to be anything. But it really could just be that they haven't met yet because of simple reasons, and Amo is just some normal kid with a black trigger.

Like, this theory popped into my head one day as a what if, and since then, I've been running with it lmao. A lot of it is speculation. But I know that it can fall apart pretty easily, so I won't be surprised if it turns out I'm completely wrong.

But I also won't be surprised if I turn out to be right 😎

I hope I explained it at least somewhat coherently 😭

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idyllic-affections · 6 months

Text

MORAL INJURY — a non-romance genshin impact series. ♫

act i, chapter i "silence."

➤ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS :: it's quiet. it should not be quiet. why is it quiet?

➤ CONTENT WARNINGS :: mild depictions of blood, human experimentation, dottore is always his own warning 🙏 (he is there for. literally only 2 seconds LMFAO), use of painkillers in the form of pills, etc.

➤ WORD COUNT :: 2.8k.

➤ AUTHOR'S THOUGHTS :: it's hereee 🤭 thank you all sm for your ongoing support in the lengthy amount of time i took developing this series.... i don't remember what anon originally sent the request that inspired it (i believe it may have been 🐱 anon?), but nevertheless, i hope that anon is astonished in the best way possible seeing what their request has gradually evolved into! this chapter is largely worldbuilding, so dialogue and lore will improve starting chapter 2. also sorry to disappoint you guys. natalya isn't real i made her up for the plot 💔💔💔💔 a little note, be sure to click around on the words and symbols that are underlined at the top of this post! the word MORAL INJURY will take you to the series masterlist/navigation post, and the music note will take you to the spotify playlist.

➤ TAGLIST :: @zeldadou, @umgatochamadopercyval, @starryshinyskies, @lucid-lilium, @pookiebearcave, @lesanyanyas. contact me through messages/asks/etc non-anonymously to be added.

"It's quiet today."

It was merely a murmured observation, perhaps nothing more than a thought that was accidentially spoken aloud, more or less directed at the only other… conscious and coherent individual in the room.

In their many years of employment, there was never anything that unsettled them quite like silence did. The lab was never completely quiet. There was always something to occupy the air—whether that be the absentminded flow of conversation between them and their Lord, the distant bickering of his Segments, or something far worse like the screams of the lab's more permanent residents. They supposed it wasn't entirely quiet; the periodic clicking of metal against metal was… present, but not enough, and the shuffling of the papers they were handling was hardly adequate. It was still too quiet. It was hardly ever this quiet. If it was, usually…

Usually it signalled unfavorable conditions.

"Hm. Does that disturb you?"

Some of which were tolerable—some unfavorable conditions could be dealt with, given the person dealing with them had enough skill and grace to do so, like the death of a promising test subject.

Some were less managable.

…But perhaps it had nothing to do with them today, given how little hositility Dottore held towards them. They couldn't quite place why it worried them so much, then.

"Somewhat," they admitted. "It's hardly ever so quiet, no?"

Their gaze flickered to the map of Teyvat haphazardly hung on the wall. Blue thumbtacks pinned in various spots on the map—some in the further reaches of Snezhnaya and others all the way in Sumeru or Inazuma—indicated mission distributions.

Ah… they supposed the silence could be attributed to that. Come to think of it, they hadn't seen any of Il Dottore's other segments that day in particular.

They were thankful, then, that at the very least, the looming silence was not due to some circumstance they needed to be concerned about.

The silence in its entirety returned. Dottore—this Dottore—was rarely much of a talker; that is, he hardly ever held a conversation with them. They could practically hear the seconds ticking by in the quiet.

One, two, three… five… seven…

It didn't last too long.

"[Surname]."

At least there were no unfavorable conditions to manage today. The death of a test subject, the failure of one of their coworkers…

"Yes, my lord?" Their gaze flickered from the desk they were busying themselves with organizing to the cold, metal examination table. The woman on it looked half-dead. Poor thing. "How may I be of service?"

Today, there was nothing they needed to fix. Good. They weren't sure if they were really in the mood to deal with one of their coworkers' failures. The death of a test subject would have at least given them time away, time to themselves, while they sought out an adequate replacement—the failure of a coworker, however… Archons, in that case, they'd have to deal with a pathetically snivelling agent begging through the tears for them to help repair whatever fatal error was made before the Second ever had a chance to find out about it.

"Clean her up, will you?"

No, they weren't really in the mood to deal with that; it was as taxing mentally as it was physically, given that the kinds of mistakes leading to their coworkers to break down sobbing tended to be… larger ones.

(For example, the time when Krupp accidentially wrecked beyond repair one of the Ruin Guards that the Segment he worked under was fixated on. They spent one of their free days seeking out a replacement and even then, the difference was still noticeable.

At least Krupp is still living, despite the fact that they threw him under the bus—so to speak—immediately upon being confronted about it. They're certain he's still sore over their alleged betrayal… but the last time they checked, they had absolutely no completely safe or trustworthy allies, so they're unsure of what "allyship" Krupp is always nagging about.)

Anything else, any other job or request, would be more favorable than having to fix something like that.

"Very well."

As they were finishing up with the mess on the desk in front of them, they noted that the click of heels gradually grew more distant. Then, a door opened and shut with a slight echo.

Just like that, the Harbinger was gone.

A deep sigh left through their nose. After being certain he was gone, they called out with a relatively light tone, "Hey, you alive over there? Don't die on my watch. You know that'll get me in trouble."

The unsettling silence returned, and for a brief moment, their heart sank into the endless pit of their stomach.

Was she actually gone?

Then, with a cough and a wet splatter that made them grimace slightly, the woman replied.

"Haha. Very funny, [Name]."

"Just making sure you know that your actions have consequences."

"My actions?" she huffed incredulously. Despite her tone, a tired smile played on her lips as the lab assistant approached her side.

They gingerly brought a hand up to her face, brushing the hair that was sticking to her forehead away with their calloused fingertips, causing her to flinch but she made no attempt to pull away. She was sweating. Worrying, but not unexpected. "Yeah. Your actions."

Again, that vile silence that they so despised returned.

"Are you cold at all? Having chills?" they inquired softly, leaning down to examine her face more closely—most importantly, the size of her pupils. It would indicate if she were suffering any brain injury. Thankfully, it didn't seem like she was. "Please describe to me your symptoms in detail."

"Right, yeah… um," she hesitated, clenching and unclenching her fingers in what seemed to be an attempt at pushing through the pulsating ache rhymically striking her whole body. They ran a hand up and down her upper arm soothingly, encouragingly. When she drew away from their touch with a pained sob, their chest squeezed, but they said nothing and obliged by her wordless request, withdrawing their hand from her arm. "It's cold," she managed, though her words were heavily strained.

They hummed.

The Pyro delusion secured on their hip emitted a pulsating red glow, and they slowly raised their open palm to her forehead. The steady flame produced by their delusion hovered just above her skin, where it could not burn her or harm her any further than she already had been. "Better?"

She nodded wordlessly. For a moment, she sat in the silence, simply basking in the warmth of their palm.

A point came, however, when the hushed whispers of the long-deceased deities—audible to their ears alone as the sole user of their delusion—used to craft the weapon at their hip grew utterly overwhelming. They swallowed thickly, fingers twitching with barely-restrained ill intent above her face. She did not seem to notice.

"Natalya… symptoms?" they reminded as gently as possible, lowering their hand—much to her dismay; Snezhnaya was cold and unforgiving, and the Doctor's lab was hardly any warmer than the outside was. Their delusion was the only warmth she had. For them, the whispers thankfully dissipated as quickly as they arrived. It was as if those voices had never been there in the first place. They tried not to focus on what they might have done to her if they hadn't withdrawn. "I need to know."

"Everywhere hurts, [Name], I can't… I can't think straight…"

"It's alright. Don't worry. I'll just put down the normal symptoms people have after… that. Do you need painkillers?" they whispered, as if afraid that, should their voice be any louder, it would shatter the fragile, shivering woman.

Of course, another concern was that someone may hear them offering something they shouldn't be.

"Do you have any?"

"I do"—they offered her a weak smile, standing up straight once again—"I always do. I don't have water available, though. Can you dry swallow them?"

"Yeah, hand them over, honey. Don't worry about it."

"Alright."

For a moment, they fished around in one of their pants' pockets. Then, they pulled out a small plastic bag. Inside were two small pills.

'I'm running out… I'll have to get more at some point.'

"Here," they murmured, gently opening the bag and handing her the two pills. They shoved the little empty bag back into their pocket. "Take them quickly, before someone walks in. I'll start stitching your incisions once you do."

"…You can't wait until they kick in?"

A wave of regret and guilt washed over their chest.

"I'm sorry. I have a meeting with Lord Beta's assistant soon… you know, the segment that runs Haeresys? I can't wait that long. The risk to my safety is far too great. Maybe if it were someone else's assistant, but… we all know what Lord Beta's track record looks like, and worse, I have to run basic maintenance on Lord Sixth later, since Lord Dottore isn't available for some god forsaken reason…" they sighed. "I'm really sorry. The things I have to do today are just… too important to risk delaying."

Her eyes, hazy and vacant, were filled with a sudden life as she came to and realized the situation she was in.

It wasn't over, she had realized.

She stared back at them shining with nothing but gut-wrenching terror. Her gaze was quick to flick away from them, however, so they couldn't linger on it for too long. It was probably for the better. Lingering on things like that was never particularly healthy.

"Right… okay. I understand," she reassured sincerely, before shifting slightly so that she was at least sitting up on her elbows. The strain on her abdomen made her wince. They were quick to support the majority of her weight, curling an arm under her back. Thankfully, the thin layer of cloth draped over her body provided some kind of reprieve for her overworked nerves, and their touch did not seem to affect her as terribly. It was then that she brought the pills to her lips and swallowed them without so much as a complaint. "Thank you for the medicine, [Name]."

"Of course." They reached for disposable gloves as she cautiously laid herself back down. "As usual, as a general rule, you are free to scream or cry or damn me to hell and back. I would not hold it against you. I know it hurts. Whatever helps you manage your pain, save from squirming—please try to be as still as possible—is permissible. You are not being disruptive. You are not being uncooperative. You are not being difficult. Scream if you must. It's okay. You are human and in unreasonable pain. It's okay. I promise."

Her eyes glittered with the sheen of unshed tears—they briefly wondered if it was because she was afraid of the prospect of more pain, or if she was afraid of them.

They sincerely hoped it was the former.

With as much gentle tenderness as they could muster in spite of the way she was looking at them, in spite of the utterly betrayed expression on her face, they gingerly cupped her face. "Okay?" they whispered. "You're okay. You'll be okay. I will take care of you, okay?"

Her hoarse voice came in a raspy whisper: "Okay. Do what you need to do."

They nodded, withdrawing their hand. "Remember: deep breaths. It will be okay."

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

There was never a time during which they could honestly and confidently assure victims that "it would be okay."

Nothing was certain. The concept of "being okay" was never certain. All they ever did within this aspect of their job was lie. It was… regrettably, part of what made them so skilled.

(A much younger Fatui agent in their unit once, with an awestruck expression, told them that they made their job look effortless—looking back on it, they're certain that she meant well, that she meant it as a compliment, if anything. They ended up shooting her a nasty glare, however, that ultimately contributed to her transferral to Tartaglia's unit, a work enviornment with much lower stakes. They sometimes felt bad when they looked back upon it.

…But perhaps it was for the best. If she could not navigate their complex social cues, only the Tsaritsa could possibly know what might happen to her if—when—she came into contact with Dottore or any of his Segments. Everyone in his unit did, does, and would at one point or another.

So, yes, perhaps it was better like this. Tartaglia was far more forgiving, after all.)

To lie to the test subjects and put them at ease… it was all they ever did. It was all they could ever do, because they knew that the majority of those people would not live long. Lying was an unfortunate but necessary skill in their career.

Subsequently, dissociation was also a hell of a skill to have in a career such as theirs.

They could not afford to let anything weigh on their conscience—not guilt, not regret, nothing. Nothing could weigh on their mind, for if something were to do so, they would end up putting themselves at risk. Performance, work related or otherwise, often dramatically falls when one is troubled.

In truth, they could get away with more than what others could. Small slip-ups, simple errors, accidents that didn't lead to any serious damage to any research—these things were often overlooked with a hypothetical slap on the wrist.

…Of course, that didn't mean they were ever going to voluntarily push their luck. They would much rather dissociate when their mind deemed it necessary than risk suffering severe punishment.

Knowing when to detach was surely what kept them sane. It didn't make their job any less horrible—it just made it managable enough so that they could keep it. In their position, at their rank… quitting or losing the job they had was not an option. Maybe if they worked under another Harbinger, it would be, but for them?

(They should have submitted a transfer request when they first joined the Fatui. It was far too late for that now, but they still lamented the fact that—against their better judgement, and against the warnings of older, more experienced agents who knew firsthand the horrors that went on in Dottore's unit—they did not at least try to switch divisions.)

Losing their job was a death sentence because the only reason they would ever lose it was if they did something punishable, and quitting may as well have meant the same, depending on the mood the Second was in at the time.

Knowing when to detach was surely what kept them alive.

Halfway through their cleaning and stitching of her open wounds—they briefly had wondered what could possibly be so urgent that Dottore could not have been bothered to finish what he had started, but it was not their place to ask or question—she had fainted, which was… better than her being awake, at least. She likely would not recall most of the process when she woke up again.

After checking for a pulse, just to be certain that nothing problematic had happened to her, they sighed.

As they pulled their disposable gloves off, they turned the latex inside out so that no blood got anywhere else… not that it would have mattered, they supposed. The lab was bloody and they would have to sterilize it all regardless, since the janitor had seemingly disappeared under mysterious conditions they did not want to think too deeply about. Still. Anything to make their job even slightly easier.

…The lab would surely fall apart without their guidance—or, at the very least, the deaths and "disappearances" of their coworkers would tragically skyrocket.

With quick and purposeful steps, they strode down a hallway branched off of the main lab towards a pair of heavily guarded doors. Four agents lingered there armed with delusions and guns. They all seemed to stand up a bit straighter as the lab assistant approached.

"Hey, listen, I'm going to need two of you to take Natalya back to her room," they instructed, absently fidgeting with their uniform as they rehearsed the rest of their day's schedule internally. "I've got places to be, otherwise I'd do it myself."

One of the agents rolled his shoulders—perhaps in preparation, though Natalya was not particularly heavy even in a state of complete unconsciousness—and nodded.

"Sure. No problem, [Surname], but what's her number?"

"Hell if I know"—they shrugged—"I call them by their names, not their numbers. Everyone knows that. Check the tattoo on her wrist. That's what it's there for, no? Look, I'm running short on time. Just… do what I've asked, okay?"

The agent threw his hands up defensively, and they rolled their eyes, crossing their arms and leaning most of their weight on the wall.

"Don't be dramatic," they scoffed. "I'm not going to gut you."

"I don't know. You might if you're in a bad mood," he accused. Well, they weren't going to before, but now they were considering it… "Anyway, no need to get short with us. Really, [Surname]. We'll handle it. What do you take us for?"

"I have a million reasons to be short with you all. Just get it done, please."

With that, they turned on their heel and left.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! written by aphelion & banner by @lucid-lilium. do not plagiarize, copy, ai train, or otherwise use my work -☆

#: [ moral injury! 🌸 ]#genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin platonic #platonic genshin #genshin series

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roseykat · 2 years

Text

TITLE: Loss of Inihbition

WC: 1.5k

PAIRING: Hyunjin x reader

WARNING: minors DNI, I am and will be posting NSFW SKZ related content in the future and I know I won’t be able to regulate and monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please just don’t engage with it or my page whatsoever. Much appreciated.

TAGS: choking (m/receiving), oral fixations, established relationship, masturbation, there isn’t any use of pronouns but the reader has been described with a clit.

SUMMARY: Hyunjin wants to watch you get off while his fingers are in your mouth.

NOTE: hello, I’m Rose. I’m not exactly new to writing smut but, let’s just see how this rolls.

Hyunjin has never really been the type to tease. He’s a person who is intent on giving you what you want because he loves you and doesn’t like to see you suffer. In that sense, you’re not a brat about it, or more that you don’t need to act like one when he’s willing to give into you.

Not that you would be one in general, at least you don’t think. Not until today when Hyunjin, for the first time, decided to not fully give you what you craved.

What started off as the usual movie night on Friday, turned straight into something from a niche porn scene. On the couch in front of the TV, you share a warm blanket with Hyunjin curled up at his side. His arm had been draped around your shoulder, occasionally massaging your scalp or playing with your hair. He’d sneak a kiss on top of your head every now and then before things began to escalate.

At first, you hadn’t noticed that Hyunjin’s eyes had been fixated on you instead of the screen for a while. To really grab your attention, he’d ask for a kiss which you melted right into his request. From then on, his lips would never leave yours, luring you deeper into his trap.

The movie playing in the background drowns out, converting into white noise as you focus entirely on Hyunjin who lets the blanket softly fall to the ground and shifts you onto your back.

“Hyunjin,” you murmur when he breaks away from the kiss. The anticipation of what you think and hope is about to happen is put on pause when he regrettably stops the situation from advancing any further.

“Let me watch you,” Hyunjin mutters against your lips. “I want to see you get off by yourself.”

You blink at least several times before you can even fashion a coherent sentence in your brain. It’s not that it was an embarrassing task to perform, but you were somewhat…floored to hear what Hyunjin desired.

You’ve done this countless times without him there, but never when he’s right beside you and watching like a hawk. It makes you feel shy and partially helpless when he’s not participating with you.

“Can’t…can’t we just-“

“Maybe afterwards,” Hyunjin interrupts, already thinking two steps ahead of you.

The word ‘maybe’ didn’t sit right in your vocabulary. If this was the direction that things were going to head down tonight, you hoped that ‘maybe’ would turn into an affirmative ‘yes’ at some point. Complying with his need would possibly guarantee that. So, you obey.

Your hand slips past the band of your shorts and underwear then down to your clit, now fully aware of how wet you are to the touch. Not even five minutes of making out can already have your insides subliminally reeling with the subtleties of what this man can do to you.

A small whine escapes your mouth as Hyunjin peels himself off of your body. As he goes to lean back, he takes the ends of both sides of your pyjama shorts, slowly tugging them down to your ankles, leaving you exposed in your underwear and hoodie.

Your cheeks immediately flush with heat while he smiles faintly, too absorbed in the way you were touching yourself, almost as if he were possessed.

“Don’t be shy baby,” Hyunjin prompts softly, noticing that your hand stopped moving. “Think about what I usually do to you if that helps.”

It did.

His advice drains your hesitation as you begin to envision the myriad of occasions where Hyunjin has brought you to multiple orgasms. Your brain coils with torrents of feverish memories as you continue to touch yourself. One that springs to mind was Hyunjin’s birthday.

After showering him with well-deserved gifts, you were set on giving him the time of his life in bed until he suddenly turned the tables. By the end of that night, Hyunjin had bent you over the counter and finger fucked you until you were shaking and dripping on the tiles of the kitchen floor.

“Hyunjin,” you swallow hard, air hitching in your throat.

“That’s it,” he encourages.

Attempting to hold back your moans was a futile move, not when Hyunjin’s avid ears can effortlessly pick up on your staggered breathing. The faster the pace, the more he knew you were close to the edge of an orgasm. Only then did he lean over you once more, placing a chaste kiss on your parted lips before noticing that his long and spindly fingers hover in front of your mouth.

You understand his idea undoubtedly, but regardless of the euphoric haze that gradually submerged you, one thing that became apparent was that Hyunjin didn’t sport any of his rings. Based on that, you couldn’t help but wonder briefly if this was all premeditated.

Not that it mattered.

“Open,” he says to you, his fingers still waiting patiently. You swallow first and catch your breath before your mouth welcomes them in.

The warm heat encapsulating around Hyunjin’s fingers makes his dick twitch in his pants, almost easy enough to make him come untouched if he’s not careful. Seeing and hearing the lewd sounds you make when you begin to suck has Hyunjin’s mind swirling, making him dizzy.

It takes him twice the amount of restraint he needs to refrain from touching you altogether.

He continues to leave that job to you. Your fingers are enough to satiate that primal need to have Hyunjin inside of you - they’re not enough, but it does the trick. Sooner than later, the build-up of pleasure takes shape, balling in your lower abdomen as it makes you squirm under Hyunjin. Your free hand quickly grips at his forearm, nails digging into the skin.

“So good,” he praises in a sweet, dulcet tone.

His eyes refuse to leave your body, they never drift from your contorted face or where his fingers disappear into your mouth. They pet and glide easily over your tongue that yields to them so perfectly, glistening and coated in saliva. You try your best to suck on them even though you’re too crazed on trying to come.

It’s not long until you become frantic, rabidly chasing the tail end of your orgasm that you only wished Hyunjin would do for you. The intense sensation makes you feel deranged, so much that your free hand goes from gripping and clawing at Hyunjin’s arm to somehow finding its path to the sides of his neck.

Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over with pure hunger and greed as you increasingly add pressure to squeeze. It’s not the first time you’ve choked Hyunjin, in fact he was the one who initially rallied for the idea in the early stages of your relationship.

It was a swift discovery into his treasure chest of kinks that was not only subtle but insanely effective on him.

His eyelids flutter as you moan and whine around his fingers just watching him enjoy this as much as you are. You continue to rub repeatedly over your clit in a heated and messy frenzy while the fabric of your underwear soaks through.

Hyunjin barely blinks in fear that he’s going to miss watching you writhe in pleasure when suddenly, your eyes screw shut as you bring yourself to the peak of an intense orgasm.

Long, loud strings of whimpers and mewls shoot vibrations through Hyunjin’s fingers and into his hand. He wasn’t able to explain why but it felt strangely good - nothing in comparison to seeing your body shudder and shiver uncontrollably when surges of pleasure swell throughout your insides.

He retracts his wet fingers that still linger along your lips, smoothing and rubbing over them. Your chest heaves up and down, long before it finds a steady, calm rhythm.

Hyunjin breathes hard and heavy too with a feral glint in his eyes after your hand falls from the sides of his neck, landing beside you. The other one, still down the front of your underwear, is brought up by the help of Hyunjin, who as if he’s totally unhinged now, takes your middle and index fingers in his mouth.

The sudden action has your eyes widening, “H-Hyunjin…”

You go to pull your hand back, wildly flustered about the fact that Hyunjin is sucking every bit of your essence off of your fingers. But he stills you with a sharp stare before he’s done, leaving a trail of spit connecting from your fingertips and his lips.

It’s obscene and lewd, yet the beautifully demented part of Hyunjin’s brain wishes he could’ve taken a photo of it. Maybe next time.

“Sorry,” he swallows. “You look so pretty when you come…I couldn’t help myself.”

You were utterly speechless yet not entirely surprised at the same time.

Hyunjin has never really been one to tease, but you forget there are times where he can be maniacally and incessantly aroused. Thinking about it makes something spark inside you once more. It makes you excited to feel it since Hyunjin has yet to have his own fill.

NOTE: I strictly do not permit any copying, editing, rewriting or remakes of my work nor do I allow them to be uploaded to any other site or social media platform. Tumblr is the only site I will be using to post this type of content so if you see it elsewhere, then it has been stolen.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x reader

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kierancaz · 7 months

Text

Crowley Having To Be A Dad For Once (Crowley Comforting Yuu)

I don’t know what this is, I was just really bored and it happened so if it sucks I’m sorry. I used they/them and she/her pronouns throughout the whole things, idk neither sounded right if I used just one set of pronouns so I just used both T_T.

Also yah ik Crowley is ooc bc he’s basically a deadbeat uncle but this is MY fic and I’m a SUCKER for parental Crowley and the idea of him not really being good at it at first but as he grows to care about Yuu more he becomes more willing to try and be a good parent for them.

No trigger warnings, ig this is fluff? Uh probably not very good but it’s ok I still hope u like it. Oh and this takes place at the end of Book 6, also reader is referred to as Yuu.

It was finally over. Everything was finally ok. Grim was back with Yuu, all of the people who had been brought to Styx were back in their dorms, a little banged up, but safe. Yuu was finally home with the people they considered their family.

Crewel, Trein, and the others had given them a major scolding when they got back. Being sure to pull Yuu aside into the headmasters office to yell that them specifically, but Yuu couldn’t find it to be mad or even upset with their scolding. Yuu couldn’t be upset when she felt cared for again. The only one missing from that meeting was Crowley, but Trein as assured that he would be back soon. Which brings us to where they are now.

Grim was in Pomfiore sleeping soundly, but Yuu was standing in the wreckage of Ramshackle. Staring the remains of their only home here in the face. She knew it was bad, the remembered it all from the Chirons attack, but somehow seeing everything destroyed after the dust had finally cleared after the whole situation made reality hit that much harder. She took a deep stepping through the door looking around at all the damage.

“Yuu!” The ghost came speeding toward them, they couldn’t hug her so instead the just zipped around her a could times. She laughed, the ghost coming to a stop in front of them, “we’re so happy you’re back! We thought you guys were leaving us for good!”

“Where’s Grim?” One of them asked looking around with concern, the others followed suit like maybe he was just hiding.

“Don’t worry he’s fine, he’s back in Pomfiore sleeping off his big adventure.” Yuu chuckled and the ghost relaxed and smiled, happy to hear their little friend was safe and sound and would be back with them in no time.

Yuu looked around again, at the huge holes in the walls and ceilings. At the stray cauldrons that had broken the floor and the way the stairs that lead to her bedroom were completely destroyed. She pressed her lips into a line, tears starting to well up in she eyes.

“Yuu? What’s wrong?” One of the ghost asked. And that’s what did it, she broke down crying.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out wiping her eyes and trying to breathe even. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry your home is destroyed, I’m sorry I can’t do anything about it—”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s not you’re fault.” One of the ghost said. Yuu just shook her head, crying to hard to say anything coherently. There wasn’t much the ghost could do besides remind her it wasn’t her fault the house was destroyed and that it’ll be rebuilt and everything will be ok.

“Yuu?” The new voice made her go still and the ghost silent. Turning around Yuu saw none other than Crowley standing in the doorway.

“Oh- Headmage- I, uh,” Yuu struggled to wipe their eyes free of tears and steady her voice. She hiccuped as she tried to breathe but with a deep breathe she was able to sound at least somewhat normal. “Sorry headmage, is there something you need?” She asked, turning to face him fully.

“I- no. I was just making my rounds on campus to see the damage. Trein informed me Ramshackle was badly damaged, I can see he was quite right.” Crowley said as he walked through assessing the damage, stoping when he came to stand beside Yuu.

She chuckled weakly and sniffed, tilting her head down and swiping at her eyes again. “Yeah… yeah, sorry.”

Crowley gave a questioning hum, “what’s there to be sorry for?”

“I- I don’t know… just am,” they said, their voice quiet.

“Yuu,” Crowley said. His voice more gentle than usual, more concerned. “Are you alright?”

There was hardly a second after Crowley asked before Yuu practically launched themselves at him, throwing their arms around him in a tight hug. Crowley stumbled back with surprise, his arms raised awkwardly like he didn’t know what to do with them.

Yuu was crying again. She just felt so powerless against everything. There was nothing she could do to fix her dorm, there was nothing she could do to stop the Chiron’s from taking the house wardens, nothing she could do when they took Grim. All of the feelings she had been pushing down for the sake of staying focused during the whole Styx mess finally boiling over.

“I- I guess I’ll take that as a no…” Crowley said tentatively.

Yuu apologized again, but couldn’t seem to bring herself to let go of him. Why him she had chosen to break down in front of she didn’t know. It’s not like he had ever been a comforting figure in her time here, or even a very useful one. But slowly, unsurely, Crowley hugged her back, patting her head in a soothing manner. It was enough to make her want to cry even harder.

It was silent between them for a while, with only Yuu’s sniffling and hiccups to be heard. After a few moments Crowley seemed to relax, trying to be gentle as he hugged her back and pat her head, telling her that it was ok and Ramshackle would be fixed and her and Grim would be back here in no time at all. He didn’t know how he would do that but he would get in contact with Styx and work something out, after all they made this mess.

After some time Yuu let go, stepping away from him and wiping their tears and taking a deep breath. “Are you… ok? Now?” Crowley asked, Yuu nodded.

“Better… thanks.” The air was slightly awkward. Crowley didn’t exactly know how to recover to his normal ‘aren’t I so gracious’ personality after watching his most situationally unique student have a full break down.

He cleared his throat before walking over to them and placing his hand on their back, guiding them to the door way. “Why don’t you go back to where you’ll be staying and get some rest. You do have a place to say until Ramshackle is fixed, correct?”

Yuu nodded, “yeah I’m staying in Pomfiore…” there was a long silence, like maybe she wanted to say something else. But she didn’t. “Thanks, I’ll, um, see you in class.”

Crowley nodded and watched as they left down the steps before calling out them. He only spoke when they stopped and turned to face him. “Don’t worry about Ramshackle. I’ll handle everything and make sure it gets fixed,” he said spreading his arms, “after all I am very generous!”

Yuu just blinked at him for a moment before breaking out into a laugh. After some time they had grown to find Crowley’s antics annoying, but after the moment that just happened his usual return to form was much welcomed. She waved at him as a final goodnight and started her walk back to the mirror chamber feeling much lighter than she had before.

Crowley was left with his many thoughts standing in Ramshackle, but he didn’t dwell on anything for to long. But he would check on the prefect and Grim officially tomorrow, that he made sure to promise to himself.

Yuu snuck back into Pomfiore, back into the empty room she was staying in. Grim was exactly where they left him curled up on the bed under the fluffy duvet. She smiled as they climbed into the bed, curling around Grim to cuddle him as he snuggled sleepily back into their arms. For once though, they believed Crowley would follow through on his word with Ramshackle, and that everything would be alright.

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