#you know what this has been in the drafts long enough
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our love has always been 10 centimeters apart - aventurine
synopsis: the distance between the two of you is about to close, the distance will be gone, it only takes a few more inches, but he reminds himself that he can’t - he refrains. later on mere inches turn into vast kilometers, going beyond galaxies and planets. years later he finds you again and makes it up to you, closing the distance as he seals it with a kiss; or the two times the both of you were away from each other even though the only thing you’ve longed for was each other, and the one time where the two of you find your way back to one another again.
pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) | wordcount: 2.0k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader cries a bit (tiny bit), mentions of alcohol and “sex” (an idiom = get into one's pants) but no graphic mention of sex + they’re not drunk, kissing, making up and making out (one kiss), tba if i find more, proofreading is for losers (its 4am (cet) i'm just too lazy); oneshot
tags: @azullumi (i swear that grey block with spikes from mario literally looks like "alpha sigma boss. you guys agree right?? prove azul wrong.)
img credits: @/magnolia29 on x!
a/n: i started this draft at like 12 an and procrastinated for god knows how long but yeah!! hope this is okay for what sleep deprived me wrote lmfao
“you seriously still wear that thing?”
aventurine points at the wool scarfs you’re wearing, it hangs a bit loosely due to you not wrapping it around your neck enough.
“yeah, got a problem?” you tease, grinning as you look at him. “it’s the first thing i got from you when i was moved to this department.”
ah right. he remembers the day vividly. they said that a certain member has risen quite quickly in the past few months and will now be moved to his department: the strategic investment department.
on the first day of work, aventurine, like the thoughtful senior he is, came up to you and greeted you, offering you a tour around the building and introducing you to the staff and everyone who worked here. you agreed and followed him as he guided you around your new workplace.
the two of you got along quickly, exchanging laughters and telling each other jokes as the two of you were strolling around the building. he remembers gifting you an expensive scarf, one made out of the finest wool in the whole galaxy. you thanked him wholeheartedly and at that he couldn’t help but invite you out for a drink - like the mindful senior he is, of course.
drinking after work became a little habit for the two of you. sometimes the two of you were able to drag veritas or topaz along, but usually veritas denied the invitations, saying “he doesn’t want to mush up his brain due to the alcohol.” as for topaz she usually came along to look after the two of you, but today it seemed like there was an emergency regarding numby, which she had to rush to immediately. leaving you and aventurine alone.
which led you to your current situation, the two glasses of alcohol in front of aventurine are left untouched, everything that happens right now is done with a sober mind. he can’t put the alcohol to blame.
your hands are close, they're a mere 10 centimeters apart from his. it takes everything inside of him to not take your hand in his and smother it in kisses, but he refrains, he can't - he shouldn't even be thinking about something like this.
your soft lips lean forward to meet his, they're a mere 10 millimeters away from his. you continue to launch forward, he doesn't move away, he can't move - he's frozen. you assume he granted you permission to kiss him. your hand snakes towards his, loosely intertwining the tips of your fingers.
your lips ghost over his - the distance between the two of you is gone, it scares him. he fears he might not be able to return if he goes this way.
aventurine can’t help but pull away from your tantalizing touch, it hurts him. but he’s scared.
he slips his fingers out of your grasp, lurching backwards, uncomfortably shifting on the big sofa and scooting back, to move away from you.
your eyes shoot open, clearly filled with confusion. your lips slightly part open and you tilt your head to the side, irritation is written all over your face.
"s-sorry." he apologizes quickly. "i don't think i'm made for this," he mutters. regret immediately overcoming him and you.
"ah, don't worry. i should be the one apologizing. i'm sorry. i shouldn't have just assumed your feelings. forgive me." you try to maintain a steady tone but your voice and expression betray you. your voice quivers - it breaks, it sounds like you're holding back tears that are about to spill at any given moment.
no, no , no this can't be. it's all his fault. he ruined everything once again, his gift was a mere misfortune, it only caused bad luck.
your hand that was once connected with his slithered away from its previous position, this time you really were gone.
perhaps this is when aventurine realized that the both of you weren't just mere inches apart but the distance between the two of you went beyond planets and galaxies and thus could never be conquered.
the two of you were worlds apart.
it’s been a few years ever since he’s seen you. (there hasn’t been a single day where he hasn’t thought about you.) apparently someone caught wind of what happened between you and aventurine, of course they reported it right away. initially it was planned to fire you, for making a move on one of the ten stonehearts, especially as someone who stood below him.
but aventurine convinced them not to do so, saying he’s also at fault and that they should just make you move departments, perhaps you’d learn from your mistakes. it was successful - he was beyond relieved. he didn’t show it, the only thing that was visible to them was a cunning smile.
behind it, beneath the faux smile, he was clenching his teeth, biting the insides of his lips so hard that they began to bleed (he wishes that you were there to trace the outline of your lips over his once again, mending to his wounds - both, the one on his lips and the one in his heart.) his left hand was trembling behind his back as he awaited their judgment.
eventually you did get moved to another department and aventurine didn’t visit you, too caught up at work and business matters on other planets.
(it’s a lie - he knows that himself, it’s just to avoid you. it’s for the better he thinks, better for the both of you to not meet. he fears that all the feelings he kept hidden inside his chest will return and turn his world upside down once again.)
one time he overheard some co-workers gossiping about “the person who got into mr. aventurines pants” getting sent onto a mission that’ll take several years. “what a pity that they won’t get to see him anymore.” a female voice giggles as the other voice hums in agreement and they walk away.
lies. all lies, it had to be. both that you “got into his pants” - hell it was a mere kiss that the two of you exchanged (not even a kiss because he shied away.) but it had to be a lie that you were sent away right? right? It’s just rumors, just some gossip that people need to pass their time, it can't be.
of course, to his dismay, it had to be true.
his luck was truly a misfortune.
spring has come, the remaining snow melts away and turns into puddles. the skies started to clear up and flowers that were once covered in snowflakes, hidden beneath the white blanket of snow, started to open up again, blooming in their full glory.
but there was another flower he spotted, one that stood out from the others - you. after all this time, he’s finally found you.
this time he doesn't falter.
he runs up to you. pulling you into a tight embrace as he hugs you. his nose is buried into the wool scarf you’re wearing, he took notice that it’s the same one he gifted you back then. your scent mixed with his still lingers on it.
“aventurine?!!” you shout, surprised to see him again after all those years.
“you kept it..” he whispers fondly. huh? you’re confused, what is he talking about? “the scarf i mean.” he says without looking up, as if he knew what you were thinking without having to see what expression you wear or hear your voice and which sound you’ve uttered.
“of course, i did.” you say bitterly. “after all, it's the last and only thing i have left from you.” you whisper, a frown finds its way onto your face.
“no. that’s not true.” he protests, finally looking up. it's just like the last time he saw you, your eyebrow furrowed, your eyes telling him that you’re on the verge of crying - similar to when he rejected your advances. “you have me now.” the words barely above a whisper.
“oh aeons, dont, please. i beg of you.” aventurine is quick to put his gloved fingers on your eyes and rub them softly, collecting the tear drops that are about to run down your cheek. “you know i hate seeing you like this.” he whispers quietly as he removes his glove from his hand and rubs circles over your cold and reddened cheeks.
“i missed you.” you hiccup in between your cries, aventurine continues to catch your tears, he won’t allow you to cry any more - especially because he’s the reason why you’re tearing up.
“pshh.” he tries to quiet you. “ive missed you too, probably more than you know.” as an attempt to reassure you.
“i’m here now, i’ll stay with you, i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he leans forward, this time he’s the one initiating the kiss and you gladly return it. his chapped lips meet yours, kissing you messily. there’s some biting and teeth clashing but he couldn’t care less, neither do you - after all this is what you’ve been waiting for.
there's no distance, no fronts, no walls to separate the two of you. he's never felt this kind of love - your love. he hasn't been held this lovingly for an eternity, this is the first time he actually somehow feels human.
boundaries is a word foreign to the two of you, they've never been there - they never will be there because from the beginning on aventurines heart has only sought after you.
it used to terrify him, the way his heart always seemed to jump out of his rib cage upon seeing you. the louder and faster the pumping got the closer you leaned in - just like back then.
but exactly because of that or rather because of you he discovered a new part of himself, diving into an ocean of emotions that were anchored to the bottom of the water, anticipating the daz they'll be discovered and treasured in one's heart. those feelings were unknown to him until he met you.
"what should i say once we meet again?", "what should i do to prove that i'm ready now and don't fear to love or be loved anymore?", "how can i prove my love to you?"
those questions have haunted him in his restless nights, the ones that made him wake up from his deep slumber where he dreamt of you, forehead glistening with cold beads of sweat, gripping his bed sheets tightly. (all of his thoughts and dreams are filled with you.)
the beauty of this world has always been hidden beneath a window curtain, he was oblivious - blind, just how breathtaking the world can truly be.
but you came along, pulling the curtains away, revealing the outside world to him. you stepped into his life and shattered the glass that kept him confined behind the window.
you confessed your unyielding love for him. you love him - you've always done and you always will - you imagined a future which he was a part of. where the vibrant colors of the sun not only greeted you but also him as he laid next to you, side by side. watching as the rising sun kisses your skin with its tendrils of sunshine.
(he'd follow the rays of sunshine and kiss the same spots they marked, he'd leave a trail of kisses along your body.)
how can he ever repay you for what you've done for him?
a mere thank you wouldn't suffice - not in a million years.
if you were to ask him if he'd give you the sun, the moon, the stars or the whole sky - he would.
if you were to ask him if he'd get on his knees for you - he would, no questions asked. be it when he prays to you, pleas leaving his lips and dripping off his tongue or when he'd kneel down on one of his knees to tie your shoes or propose to you - he would.
if you were to ask him if he'd stay by your side all night or rather all life long - he would. he'd be your light that'd guide you even though the flame went extinct, he'd be your flesh you'd nibble on, he'd be your blood you live off.
he wouldn't hesitate for a single moment, he'd give you everything you yearn and long for in a single heartbeat.
after all, that's the least he can do for you.
@azullumi here extra paragraph again hhihihihuuh anyway when's the stoner!chuuya x stoner!reader fic like where??? also azul i love you a lot. you deserve the best - you deserve the world. i hope you get accepted into your dream uni, get everything you've worked hard for (u deserve it, you're a person full of determination) and yeah convince ur teacher to extend the deadline!!
e/n: it's 4am rn im sooooo tired but yeah here!
© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
#𝓣𝓞𝓞𝓡𝓤𝓡𝓢: works ✯#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#honkai star rail fluff#aventurine fluff#honkai star rail x gn reader#honkai star rail imagines#aventurine hsr#aventurine x you#honkai star rail x you#hsr angst#honkai star rail angst#hsr fluff#hsr imagines#aventurine headcanons#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader
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Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart
Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.
Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader
Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?
Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.
⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚
Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.
Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.
For a while it became something you obsessed over.
Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.
Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.
It all happened so fast.
Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.
His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.
Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.
Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.
But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.
You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?
You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.
It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...
In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.
And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.
He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.
He found you quite entertaining.
Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.
However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.
.
“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.
With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's stupid pep rally and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.
As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.
“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.
As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.
You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.
Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.
The gym erupted in laughter.
“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.
Kooks.
They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.
You remember it like it was yesterday.
You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.
According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.
Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.
They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.
“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.
Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.
Hell. Hell. Hell.
Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.
Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.
You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.
Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.
You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.
“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”
Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.
“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.
You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.
The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.
“How can you all just sit here and party,”you screamed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.
You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.
That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, and they bombarded you with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.
You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.
The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.
“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right? Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.
The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.
“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.
You smiled and flipped him the bird.
Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.
Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.
Like his legs had minds of their own.
“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.
“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.
Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.
And god all mighty
There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.
He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.
“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.
“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.
“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.
Jesus, why did you care?
“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites
You died and went to heaven at this point.
Sweetheart? That wink?
Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.
How he’d talk to you..
“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”
God you really needed to get your shit together.
“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.
He really needed to stop calling you that.
“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.
You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.
“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.
You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, especially to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.
With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.
You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.
You’d never been this close to him.
It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.
You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?
Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.
And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.
In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.
You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.
“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.
Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.
The hot of this breath made your body shiver.
The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.
Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.
The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.
You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.
“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.
Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.
“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.
Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.
“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.
“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.
You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.
“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.
You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.
You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.
Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.
Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.
Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.
Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.
You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.
“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.
Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.
He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.
“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.
“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.
“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.
Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.
Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.
Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.
From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.
.
Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.
You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.
Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad
You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.
Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.
Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.
You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.
You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.
He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.
The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.
You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.
You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.
It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.
After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.
You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.
Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.
He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.
He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.
You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.
You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.
You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.
Fuck you cigarette.
You envied his cigarettes.
You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.
Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.
Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.
You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.
Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.
That being you.
You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.
The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.
As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.
“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.
You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.
“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”
You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what him meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care. You knew you couldn't judge someone based on rumors.
“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for the metal type either,” Billy remarked, assumingly lighting yet another cigarette.
"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?
He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.
“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.
Compete?
“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.
“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.
“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.
You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then asked,
“Come sit,” he said, making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.
“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.
You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.
Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint," he said with a grin.
“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.
You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette. "The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.
"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.
“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.
“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brings me some sort of peace of mind. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.
You smiled at his explanation.
“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.
Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.
You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.
“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”
“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished
Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.
He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.
You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.
“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.
As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.
.
Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.
When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.
“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.
What the fuck?
Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval. He didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.
Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.
Tags:
#eddie munson#stranger things#billy hargrove#dacre montgomery#billy hargrove x reader#steve harrington#steve x reader#nancy wheeler#billy hargrove smut#steve x billy#billyhargroveseries#Steve x female reader#billy hargrove x female reader
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We Have Now
Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader
Warnings: lil bit of angst, suggestive content
Summary: The season is over, the seniors have graduated and the summer has begun. The future holds a lot of uncertainty, but your feelings for Nika have never been uncertain. Is it too late for you?
A/n: I just can’t resist summer themed fics. Also I’m ngl this is NOTT my best work so I’m sorry for that… enjoy anyways.
“Holy shit!”
Through the window of your bedroom you can see the sunset has turned outside an entrancing mix of tropical colours. Pink, purple, orange and yellow mix in the clouds and paint the world around you for a moment, and you know you need to see it up close.
You rush down the stairs and past the living room, where the rest of the team is sleeping on the couch with a movie on in the background.
It had been a long day for everyone, the team had planned to spend a couple days of July at an airbnb in Rhode Island back in February, and the plan thankfully took off.
The day had been filled with a long car ride, various TikToks, loud music, unpacking, swimming and barbecuing. Everyone was exhausted.
When you rush out to the deck you’re encapsulated by the scenery. Sunsets were beautiful, but even better by the beach. The white sand and deep ocean water against the rich setting sky was something out of a book.
After taking about a hundred photos and videos, you put your phone away and just stood in astonishment.
Playing basketball with these girls at Uconn was one of the biggest blessings you’d ever received in your life, and you were going to miss them so much. You often found yourself swimming in old memories at night, memories of locker room conversations, late night drives, shared playlists, loud Friday night parties, shared looks, useless yearning and post game tears.
You’d already gone through your sad feelings at graduation though, and the draft had brought some more light to the situation. You had no regrets whatsoever about your college career, except for maybe one thing. And that thing was on the beach right now.
Nika was laying on the sand, just far enough from the ocean to avoid getting hit by the high tide. She didn’t say anything when you laid down beside her, the both of you just stared at the darkening sky as the sound of waves filled the silence.
“Remember how different things were when we first met?” You finally say after some time.
Nika quietly laughs. “How could I forget?”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Gosh, I thought you were so weird.”
“You were weirder.” She grumbles.
“You just thought all Americans were weird.”
“Because you guys are! I never saw so many overly confident basketball players who were so bad till’ I came here.”
The two of you laugh together for a moment, then it’s quiet again.
Your hand is excruciatingly close to hers, but neither of you move closer.
“Everything’s so different now.” Nika mumbles, almost to herself.
You turn your head to face her. Nika’s side profile is strong, prominent nose, perfect lips, sharp eyebrows and expressive eyes. Her cheeks are pink from being out in the sun. You have the urge to make them pinker, but you shake the thought away.
“Yeah. Everything is different…but that’s a good thing”
Nika nods solemnly, but you can tell she’s thinking hard.
“Niks, don’t worry too much okay? Things work out if they’re meant to.”
She brings a hand to her face, covering her eyes and muffling her voice, which slightly wavers when she says. “What if I don’t make it?”
With this you give in and take her hand, squeezing it tight for a moment.
“Baby they’re lucky to have you. One day with you and they’ll know you’re needed on that team. Everyone else knows it for sure.”
“Says who?” Her eyebrows furrow. “I can’t just assume this’ll work out. What if it doesn’t? What the fuck do I do then? All my work will have been for nothing.”
“If Seattle doesn’t see you as an asset to their team, then I assure you there’ll be another team just waiting for you. Everyone here knows how valuable you are as a player, and the internet wouldn’t let anyone forget.”
She isn’t very convinced, but she turns her head to meet your gaze. Her eyes remind you of a puppies eyes. “Thank you.” She says, sincere and slightly embarrassed. Her hand is still in yours and your noses are almost touching. You wonder if she’d ever talk to you again if you kissed her.
At the thought of that, your stomach sinks. You sit up suddenly, hand breaking from hers. You don’t see how her face drops when you do it.
“I-“ you start, but hesitate. You didn’t want to regret anything like this again. You wanted her to know every thought in your head, even if it had a chance of going sour. “I’m really gonna miss you Nika. More than anyone else, I think.” You finally manage to get out.
She sits up now too, her brown hair blowing in the salty wind, her almost hazel eyes glinting from the reflection of the water, or perhaps something else, something like hope.
“More than anyone else?” She questions you.
“Yeah.” You say, turning to meet her stare. “I’ve always liked you more than the others.”
“Hm.” She says, as if she was expecting more.
The silence is eating at you, you just want to scream out how badly you want her. You know it’s too late, when this trip is over everyone splits. You to your hometown, Aaliyah to Washington, Nika to Seattle, Paige and the others to Connecticut. Still, you didn’t want to live with this in you forever.
“I had a massive crush on you during freshman year.” You utter as confidently as possible.
Nika’s lips part in surprise “You- you did?”
“Yeah. Major.” You scoff. Those days were almost pathetic in hindsight, obvious to everyone but Nika and yourself.
You watch as Nika draws swirls in the sand with her finger. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
“And…when did this crush fade away?” She finally asks you.
You let a beat pass before sucking it up and saying. “It didn’t.”
Nika’s eyes really widen now. You hold her gaze as best as you can. “I never stopped liking you. It just got stronger overtime, actually.”
You almost recoil when she scowls at you.
“Fuck you.”
“What?”
“Fuck!” She rubs her face, exasperated. “You- urgh, I wish you told me. I wish you told me way, way earlier.”
You don’t say anything.
“I wish I knew. Don’t you get it?” She whines, almost pleadingly. “God, if you’d told me way earlier we could’ve…maybe we would’ve..” she trails off.
Finding out that Nika Mühl, your best friend and longest love, also loved you should’ve been the best moment of your life. Instead it had you thinking of everything that could’ve been.
“I was scared.” You mutter. “I was so, so scared, I don’t know why. I wish I’d just told you, but you know me. I never take chances. I pass the ball, I don’t make the shot. I just…I wouldn’t have been able to take it if you didn’t feel the same. So I never did anything.”
She’s close to you now, hand on your knee, face flushed.
“What are we gonna do?”
You stare at her face, eyes darting from her eyes, then lips, the her eyes again.
Her eyes are beautiful. Honey brown, golden in the sun but piercing now at dusk, eyelashes long and fluttering as she tries to make sense of this situation.
You’ve wanted her more than you’ve wanted that ring at the end of the National Tournament every single year. The thought of you wasting time that could’ve been spent pressed next to her, skin to skin and soul to soul? It was sickening to you.
Still, here she was. Eyes begging you for something you’ve dreamed of. The sky now staining the beach a violent pink.
When your mouth meets hers it’s everything you’ve fantasized about. Her lips are full and soft, fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel her lashes tickle your face as you tilt your head just right, her arms get goosebumps when you fiddle with her hair.
Pulling away from her, you can’t help but melt at the satisfied smile on her face.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Nika says. “I just wish it could’ve happened earlier.”
“I’m tired of wishing.” You say, putting a hand on her face gently. “We can’t change anything now. It’s over. But we have today.”
She drinks in the feeling of being this close to you. “We have now.” Nika whispers.
Your kisses are sweet and chaste at first, but it’s getting colder out and you need her warmth. She changes the pace, clashing into you with a sense of urgency now. When her mouth slightly opens and you feel her tongue against yours you know it’s over for you. She can have whatever she wants.
Nika finds herself straddling you now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything that’s happening.
After four years of thinking of her before bed, before letting your hands take care of yourself night after night to the thought of her, here she was in all her glory. Body toned and breathing hard, hair sprawled against her tan skin, fingers untying her bikini top.
She leans into you, but instead of kissing you she puts her mouth to your ear. You can feel her smirk against your skin.
“How much of the past four years do you wanna bet I can make up for in one night?
#Spotify#fanfic#fanfiction#uconn wbb#light angst#angst with a happy ending#rpf#nika muhl x reader#nika muhl#nika mühl#uconn women’s basketball
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just found you, i see a lot of pre and post family with the teefs. what about during? and directly after? how do they care for their partner during pregnancy? especially if its a diffcult one? and afterward when their partners body has changed and maybe they're less confident about the extra weight, softer body, the extra rolls and teh stretch marks that wont go away? how does each bachelor help or make it better ir suddenly realize that is even wrong to begin with? what if they accidentally something bring out that newly found weakness in their partners confidence? ( sorry if youre busy i know you got stuff to do- i just figured youre the person who could slam dunk these thoughts i had)
Have I... GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN JOIN THE TIEFLING HEAD CANON SQUAD???????
ADDED 4/26/24: This might be a rough list, but I hope you all enjoy!! ❤️
OKAY. I GOTTA ADD CAL. I'M ADDING CAL. THIS SWEET MAN IS A TIEFLING BACHELOR AND DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH FAN CONTENT... YET.
And thank you for bearing with me--I know that this ask was sent in a hot minute ago! I'm hoping I answered all of your questions; I got to a point of this sitting in my drafts where I just felt bad about how long it had been there, so I tried to be thorough but I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later. I mostly worked on this when I had a few spare moments between chapters, and then I said "screw it. This is getting done. TODAY."
So, for Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon--let's go!
DISCLAIMER - I do not have children myself, nor have I ever been pregnant. So I shall do my best!
JUST IN CASE - A CONTENT WARNING: While writing these head canons, I did refer to the tiefling's partner as "you." If reading about being pregnant makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please be aware and be kind to yourself. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be creating another head canon list, so if you need to pass or wait on this one, that's absolutely okay. Your mental health is important.
Cal
While Cal's partner is pregnant, he will do absolutely anything and everything to make sure they are comfortable. To say that he is doting is putting things very mildly.
He will make your favorite meals, will go out and get whatever you are craving (late night runs--not a problem), will rub your swollen ankles.
Too hot? He's asking Rolan for a cantrip scroll to fix it. Too cold? He's already piling you with blankets.
Are you feeling sick and nauseous? He's already prepping something for you to eat/drink that doesn't have an offensive smell.
And if it's a hard pregnancy? I don't see him leaving your side. If he does, he has Rolan create a sending stone set for the two of you so that you can reach out to him for anything and everything.
Honestly, he doesn't get far enough for him to even use the sending stones. He is looking for anything and everything to make the pregnancy easier on you. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now because he doesn't want you to lay there in pain.
There may be points where he feels helpless because while he can do things to try and alleviate any physical discomfort, there are just times when he might just grasp at straws.
And, in situations where he can't alleviate your physical discomfort, he will do what he can to distract you.
He keeps his stress managed well enough, but that doesn't mean he won't snap at Lia or Rolan if he is too anxious. If he does get openly frustrated with them, it takes both off guard.
I also think he just holds you. A lot. Part of that is to comfort you, and the other part is to assure himself that everything will be okay.
If his partner is dealing with body image issues after giving birth, I see him being confused. You? The most enchanting person he has ever known?
Cut to him kissing you and holding you whenever possible. He'll ask Lia and Rolan to watch the baby whilst the two of you go on outings when your health permits. If it helps you to hear it, he'll remind you how lovely you are. Frequently. Hourly. Every five minutes? Not quite, but close enough.
Personally, I don't think his doting goes away after the pregnancy. And, if it is too much, it might make you feel like he views you as helpless.
If you give voice to this, he goes into immediate mediation mode. He will be extremely apologetic. He loves you and never wants you to think he perceives you as anything other than the phenomenal person you are.
Rolan
Ugh. My beloved.
He might be more stressed about having a child than you are.
He never anticipated being a father, and that might be for 15+ reasons, but he feels drastically unprepared (even if the pregnancy was planned).
He reads every. Single. Book. On pregnancy. He is the parent who gives himself nightmares when he reads about birthing complications.
Every sign of discomfort that you show is a catastrophe on the horizon.
And if it's a difficult pregnancy? Yeah. Dial that up by five notches.
He is preparing for all worst-case scenarios.
If it weren't for Cal and Lia keeping him in check, he would be safety-proofing everything in the tower.
He crafts sending stones so you can call for him if you need anything. ANYTHING.
But also, he starts shadowing midwives and asking lots of questions. If the worst were to happen and you couldn't reach a professional, he wants to be there to help you.
After giving birth, I see him splitting his anxiety between your health/recovery and the baby's overall well-being.
"The baby sneezed. That might indicate five different lethal illnesses. I'm fetching the cleric."
This is another situation where you, Cal, and Lia might have to remind him that, yes, babies do sometimes sneeze, and not everything that lands in the diaper spells doom.
Rolan might not initially understand why you're feeling self-conscious about any weight gain. Of course you're lovely. Also, isn't that what happens with pregnancies? (His words--not mine).
He assures you that you're lovely, but words might not be enough here. He might shove his foot in his mouth while trying to make the situation better.
But the best thing for him to do is remind you, repeatedly, that you are lovely. And that might not have been something he was accustomed to even saying to you prior to you conceiving. He would assume you knew that he was attracted to you.
It honestly might be the strangest (and most endearing) thing to have him say "You look very lovely today. Yes, even with the baby's spit up on your shirt."
Zevlor
*nervously staring at the tiefling I am the most unsure about writing.*
*cracks my knuckles and cries because it hurt like hell*
Zevlor has been through some of the most heinous things that can be thrown at someone. He is a seasoned soldier. A Hellrider. Surely he can help his partner through pregnancy. After all, there were plenty of soldiers in the barracks who has pregnant spouses. He's heard enough stories that he feels prepared.
He survived the Elturel's Descent. It's possible that he helped safeguard someone who was in the middle of giving birth or guided expecting parents to safety. Maybe he had to fight off the devil's skulking the streets if they caught wind/heard that person enduring birthing pains?
So maybe, he thinks, he has already seen some of the worst births ever. Maybe, he thinks, in this time of relative peace, in this home that he and his love have created, it'll be easier?
My personal headcanon for Zevlor is that he put EVERYTHING into being a Hellrider/paladin. It was his life. It was his every breathing moment. And when he became an oathbreaker, it destroyed him. His life was devoted to protecting others, and he feels that he failed in the worst of ways possible.
He certainly had friends and very possibly family that he would see on occasion, but I think that, if you didn't fight alongside him/live in the barracks too, you very likely didn't see much of him.
So maybe he has heard a great deal about pregnancies. And maybe he knows about the complicated ones--just a bit. But he himself is at a loss for when his partner tells him that they are pregnant.
Is he excited? Absolutely. Is he terrified. Oh yeah.
Regardless of how complicated the pregnancy is, he is nervous. He is worried that he will slip up in all the ways that matter, and he is terrified of letting you down.
He's a soldier though, and he prepares for everything.
He has additional blankets and pillows next to the bed.
Hot and cold compresses are ready to go.
He makes sure that he accounts for your cravings whenever shopping.
He has medicine for when the pain is severe. And when the medicine doesn't cut it, he tries his best to distract you--his mileage varies.
And this man adores you. So after the pregnancy, if you are feeling self-conscious, he will worship your body.
Dammon
I could see Cal and Dammon both being very doting, but Dammon would be juggling the forge and helping you.
If you spent a lot of time in the forge with him prior to pregnancy but find that being in there now makes you feel ill, he will absolutely feel lonelier. He is definitely the sort of person who gets very absorbed in his work, and I think this makes him feel guilty. Especially if he feels like him being there could have made things easier for you.
He becomes a meal prep king. Will cook several comfort meals for you to eat while he is working.
Massages swollen ankles and feet and anything else.
While he might have worked later hours in the forge before, he makes a point to wrap things up sooner to spend evenings with you.
That doesn't mean he isn't nervous--you're about to have a child, and he does worry if there will be enough money.
He worries that if he does slow down, commissions will dry up, and then where will that leave the three of you?
If the pregnancy is difficult, he feels guilty for leaving you alone and looks for hundreds of ways to make things easier.
Eventually, he creates a small sitting space for you near the doorway to the shop itself. It's not so close to the forge that you'll be uncomfortably hot or so close that the smell will make you sick, and he sets up a small tarp to create some shade.
If you helped Dammon in the forge before the pregnancy, he is likely hesitant to have you come back and immediately help. Especially if the birth was difficult.
But what you need, more than anything from him, is time
And Dammon wants to be a parent who is present in your life and the baby's, so he does everything to be there.
But money is still a stressor. And he might worry about you being in the forge again. So he's stressed on all fronts.
And while I don't see him commenting or changing how he treats his partner because of weight change, I do see him being VERY reluctant to have you work in the forge with him.
And this may lead to an argument. You know he is stressed about commissions and being there for you and the baby, but you still want to help.
So Dammon dials it back several notches and agrees that you know your body best. So long as you feel comfortable working in the forge, and so long as you listen to your body, the two of you can start it from there.
And it gets easier to balance the forge and child rearing. While the baby isn't allowed close to the open heat/flame until they fully understand why they must be careful (and until their lungs are developed), you and Dammon create a small swing/play area nearby.
#rolan#dammon#cal#zevlor#bg3#bg3 head canons#bg3 headcanons#headcanons#cw: pregnancy#cw: childbirth#tiefling bachelors#baldur's gate 3#bg3 rolan#baldurs gate 3#rolan bg3#tieflings#bg3 tiefling#bg3 fanfic#cw: dammon#dammon bg3#cal bg3#zevlor bg3#ch: cal#ch: rolan#ch: Dammon#ch: zevlor
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Thingy
Tired. Take it or leave it, it's been rotting in my drafts for a while now.
“Hmm.” Reynie said to himself. “This is probably not good.”
He was standing in the dining room, looking at a glass of what was now very obviously not water. It was clear and about the same consistency of water, but it tasted ever so slightly… off.
He knew enough from living in a house of scientists that he should not be drinking unidentified liquids, but in his defence this one was currently being housed in a regular drinking glass that had been sitting on the table right next to an actual cup of water.
Sticky came racing into the room, holding an erlenmeyer flask. His face fell when he saw Reynie standing there, examining the glass of not-water.
“Oh no. Reynie, you didn’t drink that, did you?” Sticky looked apprehensive, but Reynie took it as “concerned about potential reactions” apprehensive, and not “you just drank something toxic” apprehensive.
“Yes,” He said slowly, “A little. I recognised pretty quick it wasn’t my water. Should I be worried?”
Sticky looked mildly horrified, then slumped into a chair. “No, no. That is, it’s not harmful. But you might want to stay away from Constance for the remainder of the afternoon.”
“And why would that be?” Reynie carefully set the cup on the table in front of Sticky and sat down next to him. His friend quickly grabbed the glass and poured it into his flask, capping it.
“It’s a truth serum,” He sighed, “I was testing out a potential formula that might be similar enough to the compound Curtain has, to see if I could then make some kind of antidote. But I had run out of flasks so I put it into a regular cup until I could come back with this one. I’m so sorry, Reynie.”
Reynie thought about this. “So I’ll have to answer any question truthfully for the next… several hours?”
Sticky nodded ruefully. “It shouldn’t be for too long; this is a much weaker formula than Curtain’s. But, yes, definitely an hour or two. A mouthful is about twelve or so millilitres, which converts to around two hundred and forty drops, or about four hours. But, like I said, this is not as potent as that compound.”
He sighed again. “I really am so sorry, Reynie. I knew I shouldn’t have left it just sitting there like that, but I thought I would have enough time to run and get a flask before anyone came in. This is all my fault.” He put his face in his hands.
Reynie patted his friend’s back. “It’s alright, Sticky. These things happen sometimes. I’m not mad.”
Sticky peeked at him from between his fingers. “Are you sure?”
Reynie gave him a deadpan stare.
“Oh, right. Truth serum.” Sticky remembered sheepishly.
The next forty-five minutes passed smoothly, with Sticky tentatively engaging Reynie in careful conversation, but that became a lost cause as soon as the girls returned from their trip to the park.
“Hello, boys!” Kate crowed, bouncing into the room. “How was your afternoon?”
Sticky looked fearfully at Reynie, who simply answered, “Interesting. How was the park?”
Constance stomped in after Kate, taking great delight in shedding her raincoat with the most drama she could muster. “It was great! There were rain puddles everywhere, and I even managed to get Kate wet.” She smiled, seeming very self-satisfied.
Kate rolled her eyes, but she grinned anyway. “Mr. Benedict wants us to do another memory challenge with Connie here, like that one we did before. You know, where we think of embarrassing memories or secrets and Constance has to try and pick them out? There’s hot chocolate in it once we’re done.”
Sticky looked mortified, but Reynie just smiled quietly. He had been preparing for an occasion such as this for a while, and had a collection of memories that, while certainly not pleasant, wouldn’t be too hard to discuss with his friends.
Constance saw his smile and narrowed her eyes. “What are you smiling about, Reynie Muldoon? Should we start with you first?”
Reynie shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
He waited for Constance to get herself settled at one of the dining room chairs, then folded his hands and looked at her, waiting.
It wasn’t too intrusive when Constance was sorting through his thoughts, especially since she’d been getting better at it. He was focussing on a memory of one time he had spelled a word wrong out loud when he had been called on, but it was still difficult to keep his mind locked onto the memory when he felt Constance moving around in there.
Eventually, she found the image and her face screwed up in concentration.
“You… You’re in class, and I can see writing on the board. You’re… You’re… You’re spelling something!” She called excitedly.
Reynie opened his eyes, smiling at her and letting his thoughts wend free.
But Constance didn’t relax. Her eyes remained shut, and her expression darkened.
“There’s… There’s something else…” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “You got it wrong. You got it wrong, and the teacher… The teacher made fun of you!” Her eyes popped open and she looked at Reynie accusingly. “You got in trouble, and the teacher hit you with a ruler!”
Reynie winced. “Constance, it’s not a big deal.” He muttered, embarrassed that she was continuing to dredge up parts of the memory.
“Reynie,” Kate said, aghast, “That’s not a good thing.”
Reynie looked at her, puzzled. “I know it’s not a <em>good</em> thing, Kate,” He emphasised, “But it wasn’t that bad.” He turned towards the others uncertainly.
Sticky pushed his glasses up, considering. “Well, corporal punishment is generally frowned upon, but there is no federal law making it illegal nationwide. In some states it is outlawed, but in others it’s still completely allowed.” He looked unhappy as he said this, glancing sideways at Reynie.
“It hurt.” Reynie said simply. Then he gasped, covering his mouth with a hand and shaking his head violently.
“<em>What?</em>” Kate was on her feet like lightning, looking furious and agitated. “Reynie, you never say when something hurt you. How bad was this that you’re willing to admit it?”
“I– Uh,” Reynie looked panicked, waving a hand frantically at Sticky.
After a few seconds, it dawned on the other boy what he wanted. “Reynie accidentally drank a truth serum I’m working on!” He blurted out. “He wasn’t supposed to, but I left it out and he drank it and now he’s got to tell the truth for the next… couple of… hours?” He finished sheepishly.
Kate opened her mouth, flabbergasted. “First of all.” She said, whirling on Sticky, who cringed away at the ferocity of her voice. “How do you just <em>accidentally leave truth serum lying around?</em> And, secondly,” She continued, turning back to Reynie, “Why does it take a <em>truth serum</em> for you to be honest with us? We’re your friends, I thought you trusted us.” She sounded hurt.
“I do!” Reynie hastened to say. “I do trust you. I just… I don’t want to talk about the things that have gone badly in the past. I don’t want to have to bring it up, especially not around you guys.”
“But why?” Constance interjected, crossing her arms and tilting her head at him. “You say you trust us, but then you don’t want to tell us things?”
“I want to tell you!” Reynie’s eyes glistened with frustrated tears. “I always want to tell you guys everything. But this stuff, it’s not fun. I don’t want you to be sad or have to think about it. It’s my burden to carry, not yours.”
That took all the air out of Kate. She sat down, looking confused. “Reynie,” She said softly. “Why wouldn’t we want to know?”
Reynie stared at her, utterly bemused.
“I think,” Sticky began cautiously, “What Kate is trying to say is ‘Why should it only be your burden to carry?’ We care about you, and we want to know all the things you’re willing to tell us. Even the bad stuff.”
“Especially the bad stuff.” Constance piped up.
“Okay,” Sighed Reynie. “If you really want to know…”
#mbs#the mysterious benedict society#reynie muldoon#sticky washington#kate wetherall#constance contraire
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Two girls shotgunning albuterol from an inhaler because they both have asthma. Is this anything?
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training wheels.
this is an old draft that i wrote a long time ago, about ellie using the strap on you for the first time. ♡‧₊˚
warnings: strap on sex (r!reciving) , first time , praise kink (for both) , soft and loving dom top!ellie , sub bottom!reader , cock grinding , thumb sucking .
──★ we have to make it clear on the fact that ellie was so unbelievably thrilled, yet so incredibly tentative when she first fucked you with her strap on. she’s been waiting for it, waiting to be the one claiming you from inside. she’s had it sitting snuggly in a box tucked below her bed for a while now, and she’d always eye it, have some sort of stare down with the black box. should she? or should she not? she wondered, but when three of her fingers were scissoring inside of you and you muttered that “please, d- deeper” she knew that fuck it — she should.
──★ so expectably, the first words that came out of her quivering lips when she aligned the silicone shaft with your sopping entrance, were “are you sure? i need to know you want this, please”, and you — being so eager yet so timid, only responded with two fervent nods. clearly, it wasn’t enough for ellie, in fact, it wasn’t enough at all, so her voice got very stern all of a sudden. it was that tone she only uses when she’s commanding someone to do something on patrol, when she’s directing someone on where to go, or showing them how to polish a precious weapon. it carries a deepness to it, raspy, it’s strong and forceful, nothing that falls short of intimidating. it's a different side of ellie, one that you don't know quite as well. “use your words, m’not doing this unless you use them”, and when she notices how you thickly gulp, huffing out a shaky breath from your nose, she soothes you with a delicate kiss on your temple. you whine, that kiss makes you want more. as soft as it may be, it makes you buck your hips inwards and let go of a needy high pitched moan. ellie shushes you with her sweet “i know babe, i know” — and you know that she knows, so why won’t she just put it inside?
──★ perhaps it’s the need to affirm herself that you do want this, or maybe it’s this greed she holds and the yearning to hear you say it. she’s looking deep into your blown out eyes, your dark irises, nods her head twice and waits for your words. meanwhile, whilst she waits, she slides her thumb down to caress just above your clit. she’s circling your skin with a touch to soothe, or perhaps signaling you what she’ll do when it’s inside, she'll never neglect your little button. when you look down, she hums. “words, mhm?” she murmurs. you can tell she’s all tensed up, fighting the urge to just slide it inside because she knows she can, she knows you need it by the way your chest heaves up and down, and by the way there’s a small puddle of slick that formed on the flimsy bedsheet below. moreover, she has prepared you for it, first with her skilled tongue, then with her skilled fingers. “want it, i need…” you whisper, voice airy yet cracking. ellie removes her finger from your pelvis, brings it up to your cheek and caresses softly. “need what, pretty girl, huh? need what?”
──★ truthfully, you don’t really know how to call it, she’s never really referenced it by it’s name, just called it a “thing” you “might need” when she realized how eagerly your hole pulls her fingers inside, and squeezes like she might run away if you don’t. so when you see the deep, dark purple shaft (with two distinct veins on the side) you simply giggle out of inexperience, and a tinge of embarrassment. ellie smirks, looking down at you, then grins with her eyebrows arched up in amusement. “ellie… i dunno, uh, how to call it… i mean —“ and she stops you mid sentence, smacking your lips softly with hers. she chuckles, matches your giggle even, a deep blush appearing on the apples of her cheeks because fuck — what if you laugh, what if you don’t like it, or what if you don’t want to use those dirty words she likes calling her silicone buddy by. “uh… shit babe, it’s, well you can call it…” she stammers, now attempting to stifle her laugh. you look up at her and form a tight line with your lips. your chest’s heaving and stifling giggles because fuck it, she’s cute when she’s embarrassed, and how fucking precious is it that you can laugh with her even in a moment like this. you cunt can ache for her and you can still be silly together and giggle like kids because you trust her and she trusts you.
──★ she buries her face in the crook of your neck, groaning yet giggling and nearly falling on top of you. when her hips slightly buck down, in result of her laughs, the silicone shaft grinds itself up against your slippery slit, and you whine her name so loud her giggles stop like she’s been hit on the face with a rock. now, you can hear her harsh breaths in your ear, loud with anticipation and want, lips resting on the pulse of your neck. she realizes you must fucking love the grinding of it all, so she moves her hips back and forth to grind up against you some more. “uh huh, like that?” she murmurs, and to every whimper she responds with a groan like she can feel it, like she can actually feel your greedy wet lips wrapping around her. she nibbles on your earlobe, making you shiver, and breathes deeply before speaking into your ear. “fuuuuu” she gasps and it’s breathless, like she’s trying to form actual words but they only come out as muffled gibberish. she breathes again, gaining her courage. “my cock… say you want my cock”.
──★ it really is lewd, “her cock” — as if it’s hers, attached to her, as if she can feel it. it makes your tummy tie in knots, makes your throat feel clogged, your breaths come out harsher and bordering on wheezing before you murmur those words. when the mushroom like tip bumps up against your clit, it’s oh so delicious and fuck it — you want, as lewd as may be, you need her cock. “i want your cock, ellie, inside” you cry for her, and she nearly growls in your ear. although it’s bordering on perverted now, she asks you a simple “inside where?”, it makes you hiccup against her skin, and you don’t even realize she’s smiling so bright inside the crook of your neck. she understands that if she eggs you on, you will fucking say it, so she repeats with a raspy; “c'mon, where?”
──★ when it becomes crystal clear to you that unless you voice everything out; she won’t give it to you, and you’re practically clenching in and out over nothing — you whisper “need… ellie, i need it in my pussy, please, please, please” and god, she nearly regrets making you say it because she might burst inside her boxers if you keep begging for it like such a needy girl. she takes a moment to think about it, needy, needy, needy, needy for her, for her cock — needy for her to fuck you, needy for her inside and christ sake you’re begging and she didn’t even ask you to. you’re feeding her ego with every plea, with every quivering breath and you don’t even know it. meanwhile, whilst she’s busy thinking about how to pull back on her goddamn nearing on untouched orgasm, she doesn’t even realize your hand is wrapped around her dick and you’re nearly pushing it inside. when she sees it, she nearly goes cross eyed. she grabs your hand and pushes it up, chasing your eyes with hers. “what are you doing, huh?” she drawls, affirming her dominance with an iron grip on your wrist. you’re actually helpless, caught in the act, wiggling your hips and rolling them upwards. “p-please, ellie!” you beg, and the knots inside ellie’s own stomach feel like they’re tightening more and more they might break like glass. she wraps her own hand around the shaft and nearly pushes the tip in. you wince — and to that ellie shushes. “look at me, jus’ look at me”, and how can you not? she looks so adoring, a squiggly smile on her lips when she realizes the tip damn near slipped from how soaked up you are. the actual noise it makes, moist and sticky, makes ellie whimper out your name. “y’hear that?”, she murmurs and of course you can, in fact it makes you embarrassed but she praises you once more, making the embarrassment nothing but a fleeting little feeling. “sounds so good baby, s’all for me?” — all for her.
──★ she pushes the tip inside, no longer gripping your wrist above your head, intently guiding it to hold her wherever you want. you decide on one hand on her bicep, the other one on the back of her neck. there’s a pinching pain inside of your cunt, but it’s so fucking delicious because it’s her thats creating it — that when you wince it comes out as more of a blissful moan and a gasp. she won’t let you suffer, not for one second more, so she slides her hand down to caress your clit as she pushes more inches in. “mhm, ‘s, ‘so good baby… you’re so good, doin’ so good for me, you got this… yeah? i got you” she’s rambling, searching and scanning your face for any sign of pain or regret, and when she catches that you’re smiling, actually smiling with a tear shedding from your eye, she moans so loud you have to seal her lips with yours or else the whole town of jackson might hear.
──★ the more inches she slides inside, the more ellie lets loose of her gritted teeth. her mouth goes slightly agape, “stay open for me, jus’ like that, fuckyou’resogood” she croons, still circling and toying with your puffy clit from below. your thighs are nothing but trembling and shaking like jelly, body, flesh and brain turning into mushy pink and ellie shaped goo, and the fact that she doesn’t stop with her praising and sweet nothings, repeating how good you are, how brave, and tight — makes your heart flutter inside of your chest. when all of it’s length is finally inside of your gummy walls, she lets it sit there for a few faint moments before she begins thrusting. “just for me, got that? just for me, this is mine, all mine” she murmurs more to herself than to you, but you make sure to affirm her nevertheless. “m’yours, please ‘mo— ‘more”, you’re begging for that sharp friction, for that movement, but ellie needs to treasure this moment so she simply looks down. it’s all inside, it’s her cock that’s inside — claiming you, so she marvels, examines and thoroughly looks at your pussy clenching on her dick like it’s a goddamn work of art. if you squeezed down on her fingers like they might run away, the squeeze you have down on her cock — “god damn” she whispers, might need to take a picture and fucking frame it. finally, she catches your pleading gaze. “gonna move now, babe, c— can i move?”, and you whine, because it’s beginning to feel unfair, so she connects her lips with yours and slides her hot tongue inside. she breaks the kiss, grinning like she won the apocalypse lottery. “mhm, gonna move, gonna give you what you want”
──★ at first, she thrusts agonizingly slow like a snail. moves her hips backwards and doesn’t slam it fully inside, lets the tip hang nearly outside of your entrance and then slowly but deliciously slips it in again. you wail, actually wail for her to go deeper, and it clicks in her head when you scratch her back in a way that makes her hiss. she bottoms out fully, moving backwards and then slides inwards again. she won’t stop looking into your goddamn eyes, then stares into your lips that are now “o” shaped. she’s flushed and she’s biting her bottom lip so hard it might draw blood, but then she asks you “t’feels good?” and doesn’t add that cocky “huh?” that she loves to murmur when her fingers are the ones your cunt is hugging, because she actually needs to know. “mhm, good ellie, you’re so good to me” you praise, which sends ellie into a goddamn frenzy — eyelids fluttering and falling heavy as a deep, throaty chuckle escapes from within. “god fuckin’ damn, how did i even…” then she slams it again, which makes both of you gasp. her right thigh shakes, “fuckin’ get so fuckin’ lucky with you?”, she wont stop cussing, slurring up her words and misplacing her “fucks” and her “fucking”s. the louder your moans get, the braver ellie grows, pumping her cock harder now, milking every thrust and every whimper, “who’s f-f fucking you, hm?” she asks, and her thumb neglects your clit but you don’t even need it anymore since she’s giving it to you so good from within. her digit meets your face, caressing the corner of your lip, which makes you take your tongue out and ellie realizes you want it inside as well. you seem to want everything inside, huh? she thinks. her cock, her fingers, her tongue, her goddamn thumb. she complies out of want, curiosity, how slutty would you look sucking on her finger. admittedly, she’s had dreams about it, about you; bent down on your knees sucking on a popsicle in july, sucking a lollipop as she watches from above. she gazes at your cheeks hollow in as she slides her thumb in and out, but you bite it and she gasps — keep it inside cause you’re about to suck it, then she loses it entirely. “you’re fuckin’ gonna make me fuckin’ cum” she whimpers, she says it like she's scared, like she's surprised or confused because heavens how could it be possible?
──★ knowing that you were about to make her cum untouched makes the coil in your stomach nearly snap. you're prideful now, but your pussy feels like it’s quivering so much you simply don't know and can't grasp on how to be cocky about it like she does. another praise escapes your lips, "love your dick s-s- so so much", and ellie growls, she feels depraved and sick, absolutely pussydrunk and on the verge of a heart attack. her rule, however, is that she cannot under any circumstance come before you do, so she speeds up. grabbing both of your cheeks with her hands, she squeezes them together and coos. "you're gonna cum for me" she commands, so your eyebrows furrow together and your eyes close shut. she's dominating you to the verge of tears, so when ellie tells you to cum, you will do as she says. "g, g- gonna cum, it’s, s'-so much" you warn, absolutely breathless, toes curling inside of your socks.
──★ you could call her delusional or crazy, but when you nearly reach your orgasm, she feels your walls hugging her tightly. fortunately for you, ellie is nothing but talkative. it may be odd, because she’s not much of a blabber mouth, but when she’s inside and you’re being fucked out on her strap, talking you through it is all she seems to wanna do. “can f-feel that little pussy hugging me, fuck, gonna give me a big one? pretty girl? give ellie a big one, c’mon”, she’s relentless with it, fast and chasing her own high, not knowing where to goddamn look — your eyes that scream “i love you” or your pussy that’s begging to be filled up some more, or maybe your lips that are covered with drool. she settles however, on your eyes. you nod profusely, “gonna give it to you… mhm” you hiccup, which ellie deems as nothing but so fuckin’ cute, to the point where she wants to break you in half just to hear that “cuteness” some more. when your eyes roll back to the top of your head, cunt filled to the brim — ellie swears something to herself. she’s gonna fuck you every day. if humanly possible, she would have fucked you all the time. so you give it to her, a real big one, one that leaves you paralyzed, not even moaning — sweet sticky mouth fully agape with a choked up scream of her name. she wants to warn you that she’s about to cum too, but you’re too quick to notice. “cum for me, ellie” you beg in that sweet voice of yours and she cums with a huge , lovey-dovey, cumdrunk smile plastered across on her face.
──★ when you’re done, she cleans you up with a wet towel and kisses you everywhere. then — “i picked up a new book and it has a bunch of pics of cool bugs, y’wanna see?”. you’re fucked and in love.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#ellie x yn#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams x fem reader
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LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON THEM
ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, tecchou
p.s.! ⊹˚. this has been in my drafts forever & on my mind for even longer :< i just want to spoil all of them
DAZAI ー dazai is glowing under all of your attention. the rosy smudges cover his entire face; they peek from beneath his bangs, traveling across his cheekbones and bleeding over the edges of the bandages on his neck. he didn’t know how long it’d been since you first cupped his cheeks, a smile curling his lips when he saw the red painted on yours. getting showered in your kisses was like a dream, and he thinks that if he were to die right now, it’d be even more euphoric than he could’ve ever imagined. he buries his hand in your hair to cup the back of your head, urging you to continue. he shamelessly whines when you pull away, even if you’re still close enough for the tips of your noses to brush. “just one more?” you press your lips to his cheek, but his lithe finger curls under your chin to bring you back to his lips, darkening the pigmented smears on the corner of his mouth. he lets out a dreamy sigh as he looks at you, wiping the lipstick that escaped the outline of your lips with his thumb. “just one more?” he kisses you, mumbling the rest against your mouth. “for real this time?”
CHUUYA ー chuuya had given you his black card for the day, letting you buy whatever you desire with the promise of showing him everything when he got home that night. shopping bags and tissue paper dot the floor; the soft blue eyes that watched you flaunt your new clothes now linger on your lips as you apply your new lipstick. “i really like this color,” your phone camera works as a makeshift mirror, and you pop your lips, bright red spread evenly across them. “i got it because it reminded me of you.” you make yourself comfortable on his lap, placing your knees on each side of his thighs before you press your lips to his skin, warm from his blush. you start kissing along his cheekbone, leaving a trail of stains across his face until you press your lips to his. his bare thumb makes itself home against your jaw, and his ungloved fingers are warm from where they rest on your skin. when you pull away, chuuya’s grin is equal parts lovesick and prideful, and you smile at the marks you left behind. “this color looks so good on you.” he says, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “yeah? it looks good on you too.” you kiss the corner of his lips, watching in satisfaction at how it smudges his skin. he holds you firmly to his chest, hand sneaking beneath your shirt and settling on the dip of your lower back. “you got any more to swatch on me, pretty girl?”
RANPO ー the smile that formed when you first started kissing ranpo slowly drops as his lips quiver and his hands grip at your shirt, keeping you close to his chest. the stains left behind from your lips are camouflaged against the background of his flushed cheeks, pretty pink complimenting the green of his eyes. “so pretty,” you mumble. “did you know you’re the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen?” you think you hear him whimper at your words, and the little noises vibrate against your mouth. his lips are sweet from the konpeito he was eating when you first found him, and you make sure to linger on them every now and then. his grip on your shirt tightens when you pull away, smiling at the collection of lipstick marks across his face. “why’d you stop?” he pouts. “i’m out of space. i kissed you all over.” you tilt your head, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose. “except there.” his hand leaves your side to pull at his loosened tie, and you watch him unbutton the top of his shirt until his collarbones are visible. “there,” his hands settle against your waist once more, tugging you back to your rightful place pressed against him. “now keep going!”
FYODOR ー what starts as one kiss turns into two, then three; you couldn’t resist the urge to keep going when you saw how easy it was to paint his pale skin with your lipstick. you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind as he sits at his desk, grinning to yourself as you trace the marks across his cheekbones with your finger. “what are you smiling about?” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, a slight smile of his own growing. “nothing. you’re just handsome.” he hums, spinning his chair to face you. “does it have something to do with this, i wonder?” he has a knowing glint in his eye as he holds your jaw to trace his thumb along your mouth. you kiss his fingertip from its place on your lip, admiring the way the pigment stains his fingertips as best you can; it's a welcome contrast to the blood from his biting habit. he takes the opportunity to pull your face to his own, kissing your lips as his hands sneak to your waist. “if you insist on showering me with your sweet affection,” his lips curl upwards into a self indulgent grin as he pulls you onto his lap. “you should at least be comfortable while you’re doing it.”
NIKOLAI ー you carefully trace the shape of your lips, not noticing the man who teleports into your room; you hear him before you see him. “boo!” you jump, gaze drawn from your reflection to nikolai’s smiling face, peeking up from behind your shoulder. “kolya,” you sigh. “you almost ruined my lipstick.” he meets your pout with a giggle, squishing your cheeks in his hand. “lipstick, you say?” a gloved finger swipes across your lip, smearing the fresh coat you’d just put on. his visible eye sparkles as he looks down at the fabric, darkened with pigment. before you can realize it, he’s taken your spot at your vanity and pulled you into his lap. he taps his cheek in the form of a request, visible eye crinkled from how hard he smiles when your lips meet his skin. it only grows with each kiss you place, giggling when you brush his hair back to kiss along his jaw. when he looks over your shoulder and catches himself in the mirror, dotted with red stains, he can’t help but wish your marks were as permanent as his scar. he grabs your chin, turning your head so he can press his lips to yours. “i thought you wanted me to kiss you,” your nose brushes his, eyes falling to his tinted lips before he tilts your face upwards to meet his gaze. “don’t be so greedy,” he grins, twirling your lipstick tube between his fingers. “it’s my turn now.”
TECCHOU ー you were especially indulgent with your goodbye kisses today, and tecchou couldn’t find it in himself to mind. he leans into your touch as you tuck his hair away from his face, brushing your lips right beneath his marking. he lets you do as you please, content to stand there as your kisses tickle his skin and pleasantly turn his stomach. “can i have one here too?” he points to his lips, shivering when your hands curl behind his neck as you move to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing back up to his cheek. “i have to go soon,” his voice is as serious as ever, but his lips are pulled into the tiniest of pouts, hands still lingering against your hips. your lips are pressed against his chin when he sighs your name, finally making you look up at him. the red stains scattered across his face match his uniform; the thought of your boyfriend going about his day visibly stained by your affection makes you fill with butterflies, and you've never been so thankful for his obliviousness. you place his hat on his head, straightening the brim. “stay safe today, okay?” you whisper, pressing one last kiss to his lips. he nods, hand falling to the handle of his sword, but his stoic face isn’t nearly as intimidating with your lipstick smeared across it.
BSD MASTERLIST
#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#ranpo x reader#fyodor x reader#nikolai x reader#tecchou x reader#tetchou x reader#bsd imagines#bsd fluff#bsd x you#bsd scenarios#dazai osamu x reader#nakahara chuuya x reader#edogawa ranpo x reader#nikolai gogol x reader#dazai fluff#chuuya fluff#fyodor fluff#ranpo fluff#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖
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THE OLD WAY
pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader
summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.
warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.
word count: 4k
author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)
MY MASTERLIST
City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.
That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.
With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.
Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day.
But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.
Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance.
So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day.
“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came.
You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever.
He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception.
He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him.
However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.
And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was.
For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.
Oh.
Oh…
The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch.
He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.
However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you?
On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind.
He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.
He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was.
Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.
“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.
“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?”
“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”
He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it.
“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty.
The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.
“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”
Leon didn’t think he would get this far.
“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.
“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!”
Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s.
“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.
“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.
-
Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.
Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water.
“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants.
“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks.
And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.
When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have.
“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body.
“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love.
For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body.
A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.
For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.
He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.
Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.
Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.
“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”
And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.
“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”
His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.
“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for.
“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you.
Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.
And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already.
As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.
Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul.
He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper.
“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you.
A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.
You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.
Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.
At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release.
“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling.
At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment.
For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control.
You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection.
“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy.
“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”
He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck.
“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.
In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air.
“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you.
“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.
He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.
“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly.
“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know.
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra.
And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy.
“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”
And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.
“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.
“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”
Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.
“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you.
“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.”
Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb.
It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body.
He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to.
“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest. “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.”
He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.
“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you.
His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.
“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”
Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.
And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.
“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.
The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste.
You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs.
After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach.
Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.
“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle.
“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”
“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.
With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles.
“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright.
“More than okay.”
He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.
“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.
“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”
“Shut up, Leon.”
You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.
💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#resident evil
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˚ · . sweet blue - k. mingyu
summary: your husband’s not very good at asking for things, not even for a shave. but of course, he gets it either way.
pairing: husband!mingyu x afab!reader
genre: fluff, suggestive
warnings/tags: kissing, shaving, mentions of use of a blade
a/n: i took a long and unexpected break from writing and i’m happy to be back <3 this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo long and i finally finished it today. the ending was kinda rushed but i wanted to publish it either way to kinda get myself out of this slump. as always, feedback & likes/reblogs are always welcome :)
the dark colored marble touches the front of your thighs as you inch closer, which surprises you but you try your best not to flinch because of the task at hand. at this moment, you feel like an artist, a sculptor if you will; carefully carving clay with utmost precision. except you’re not a sculptor, and you’re not carving clay. you’re in your bathroom giving your husband, mingyu, a shave.
this was new for the both of you, as mingyu always just shaved his incredibly slow growing mustache by himself. what started all this is him seeing you in your nightstand or in the bathroom doing your makeup and skincare, and he finds it all so amusing. he swears harps and violins play in the background when you’re in your own little world, dusting your cheeks with blush, taking your mascara off, or applying lip balm? lip… stick? lip…. whatever it is that you put on your lips, he thinks to himself. all he knows is that he can watch you do it all day. but he’s also left wondering, how it would feel to do what you do on him.
for some reason, mingyu isn’t able to muster up the courage to ask you straightforward to do his skincare, but he is able to ask you to be the one to shave him since he tells you its that time of the month where his mustache gotten too long for his liking. he comes up with the excuse of not doing the job well enough, and that his face gets all ‘itchy’ afterwards. which is all a lie of course, but it’s enough to convince you to do what he asks of you.
and so you find yourself in your shared bathroom at nine in the morning, standing in between your husband’s legs as he sits on the counter, both of your faces inches from each other. the room is silent but not eery, it’s a comfortable silence. mingyu had joyfully shown you the things he uses for his shaving routine: a cheap razor, shaving cream, some aftershave seokmin had recommended to him, and a towel.
“you really should get one of those good quality razors. not these disposable ones.” you scold mingyu softly, looking at him sternly with one hand resting on his head and the other holding the razor.
“but they’re expensive.” he extends the last syllable in protest, his reply a bit garbled as he tries his best not to move his mouth too much. you know mingyu well enough that he would be pouting at this moment, if only you weren’t shaving his upper lip.
you’re too focused on the task at hand that you don’t bother arguing with the giant sulky man in front of you. you continue making slow downward strokes using the razor, watching the hair slowly disappear. mingyu doesn’t have a lot of hair on his face like other guys but you take your time, making sure to get the job done right. it is, after all, your first time.
your husband watches as your lips contort out of focus; a habit of yours that he’s taken notice and grown fond of over the years. every now and then , you get rid of the hair and cream, swishing the razor in the sink that’s filled about halfway in water. mingyu feels nothing else but happiness and content in this very moment that he’s internally doing jumping jacks.
your resting hand shifts from his head and onto his cheek to get better leverage and mingyu just has to lean in to your touch. he relishes the feeling of your warm hand and then looks at you with adoration in his eyes.
“baby…” you raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what on earth he’s doing this for in the middle of a shave. mingyu doesn’t react to your words but instead shoots you a small derpy smile, and only you would know what he means.
if there’s one thing your husband is good at, it’s getting you to give him your love and attention without even saying anything. there are nights when mingyu comes home exhausted and all he has to do is stand there in your doorway, signalling to you that he wants to be in your embrace. or when you get up earlier than him and you find him just as he’s about to wake up; he’s buried in the sheets, hair all messy, just laying there, silently telling you that he wants a taste of your lips before his morning coffee.
and it’s the same thing he’s doing now. you let out a small sigh as you tilt your head a bit in fake annoyance before you lean in to connect your lips with his. it’s quick but it’s enough that mingyu lets out a hum of contentment. you pull back and he giggles as your lips catches some of the shaving cream, giving yourself a tiny little mustache.
“happy?” you quickly reply, and mingyu catches you to plant another kiss on your lips, placing his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss a bit.
“very.” he says, as he swipes the pad of his thumb on your upper lip to get rid of the shaving cream he transferred onto you. his giggles bounce off the quiet walls of your bathroom.
“now can you sit still so i can finish this little bit that’s left?” you say to him, and he replies with a small nod and a sheepish smile, one that’s big enough that his canines show through. mingyu feels like a sixth grader who just kissed his crush. if the marble counter wasn’t in the way, he’d be kicking his feet.
you finish the small patch of hair that he has left and you proceed to put aftershave on him, assuming it is what you put after one shaves. you put a little bit on your hands and you’re thrown off by its strong musky scent. surely this can’t be good for his skin, you think to yourself.
“babe, you really use this stuff? i think this is way too strong for you.” you say with a worried look on your face. “well… seokmin told me it was good so i just used it too.” he replies.
“well yeah, it could be working for him but for you… i’m not too sure. i don’t know… i’m just worried.” you trail off, getting some tissue to rid your hands of the product and his eyes follow you around the bathroom while you do so. you shuffle back to stand in between mingyu’s legs, “i’ll go get something from my stuff instead.”
he watches as you momentarily leave the room to grab something from your vanity. he waits in the bathroom like a five year old waiting for his mom at the grocery counter. he hears the sound of your drawer open and close and it makes him chew at his lower lip in excitement.
“okay, this should do the job.” you say as you take the product onto your hands and pat it gently on your husband’s annoyingly smooth face. you make sure to cover all the parts that the blade has touched, and your head tilts left and right trying to make sure you didn’t miss any spot.
the way his eyes light up and follow your every move don’t go unnoticed by you. his hands make their way to rest on your hips again, squeezing every so gently as not to distract you.
“aaand, that’s the last bit of it.” you say, tightening the cap of your moisturizer and setting it down on the counter. mingyu internally pouts because the task is done, nonetheless he still props himself off the counter to take a look in the mirror.
“thank you, baby.” he says softly, shooting you a sweet smile as he turns to face you again. his arms snake around your waist to pull you in for a kiss and just when your noses touch, you pause. “you know… we still have a bit of time before we have to head out. why don’t we go back to bed for a little while?”
mingyu instantly picks up on what you’re trying to say and of course he jumps on the opportunity, “yeah?” he questions, and you nod as you wrap your arms around his neck. “well you know i can’t say not to that.” his smile reaching from one ear to the other. he leans down to attach his lips to yours as the both of you slowly walk backwards into your bedroom.
“oh, one more thing.” you mumble, momentarily breaking away from the kiss. “mhmm..” mingyu hums, and you feel it rumble in his chest. “i know you don’t get ‘itchy’ after you shave, it was just an excuse to get me to do it for you.” your tone is playful, and right then and there mingyu knows you’ve got him.
“what-huh? n-yes, i do!” your husband stutters, his ears turning red in embarrassment. “sweetheart, you really expect me to believe that? i know you like the back of my hand.” you reply. before mingyu is able to say anything else, you grab his arm and lead him out of your bedroom. “now let’s go, you owe me a yummy breakfast.”
#mingyu fluff#kim mingyu#seventeen x y/n#seventeen fluff#seventeen#mingyu x y/n#mingyu scenarios#seventeen scenarios#mingyu au#seventeen au#mingyu x reader#luvelve’s
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daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.
or
5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.
cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words
a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm
one.
daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.
his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.
he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.
the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”
daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”
you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”
you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.
you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.
two.
daryl was distracted.
this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.
the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.
earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.
and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.
the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.
“daryl, what do you think?”
glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.
“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”
hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”
your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-
no.
daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”
glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.
daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.
before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”
hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”
three.
the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.
instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.
it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.
he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.
while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.
maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.
maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.
maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.
the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.
“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”
oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.
carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”
daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.
he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.
daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.
you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.
“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”
daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.
by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.
“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"
maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”
“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.
carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.
now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.
he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.
“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.
daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.
“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”
with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.
daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.
you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.
he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.
“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.
you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.
four.
having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.
as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.
deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.
well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.
he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.
daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.
but this.. this was just for him.
your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.
you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.
you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.
“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.
your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.
your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”
and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.
you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.
daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.
soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.
“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”
“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.
daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.
but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.
he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.
no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.
five.
daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.
hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.
the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.
“—harder! put more pressure on it!”
daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.
“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”
and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.
he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.
daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.
as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.
—
this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.
without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.
the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.
“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”
he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.
“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.
your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.
daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.
a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”
“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.
“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.
oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.
plus one.
to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.
you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.
it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.
regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.
eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.
“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.
“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”
carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”
you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.
your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.
it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.
they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.
and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.
and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.
even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.
they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.
they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.
they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.
daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.
your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.
you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.
you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”
daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.
just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”
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I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.
Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.
@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!
Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader
Word count: 5 k oneshot
Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI
A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3
The screams are the worst part.
They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.
Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...
And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.
Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.
Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.
You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.
Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place.
And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.
Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.
The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.
There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.
So, Theseus is dead...
So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.
Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.
You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.
You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)
And your luck is cursed.
The beast shifts.
You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.
“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay.
“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”
He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.
Don’t blow out the candle...
If you blow it out, you’ll die.
It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages.
So you still your breath and wait.
Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue.
And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox.
The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots.
The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.
“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom.
His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.
The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger.
He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…
“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.
And you believe every word he says.
Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.
A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.
Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?
Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.
“I know.”
Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.
But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious.
Why would you say that?
Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?
The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.
There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion.
There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass.
“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.
“...What?”
The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you.
“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”
His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.
He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.
“You think talking will save you, female?”
He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.
But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.
“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”
“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.
And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile.
Why would anyone want to stay here?
You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur?
Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…
“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”
You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you.
“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”
It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.
And the beast accepts.
“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly.
Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.
But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you.
“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.
“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”
He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.
Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?
“You’ll lead me to my father.”
His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.
And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears?
“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”
You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat.
Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to…
The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.
And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels.
Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.
He also wants to touch you.
A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.
He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats.
You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use.
Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?
“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want.
Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man.
“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”
He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone.
Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out.
“Priestess…?” He rasps.
“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”
He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.
“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”
He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand.
He wants you to guide him to his father.
To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.
The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.
“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”
“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”
You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years.
“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”
It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.
If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens.
“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”
His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you.
The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.
“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.
The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.
“Sound like a virgin…”
Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.
“Feel like a virgin, too.”
It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is.
No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.
But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh.
How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out.
You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.
And you’ve gone mad, surely.
You want to touch him too, just to test another theory.
Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.
He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand.
And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission.
Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm.
If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...
In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be.
“So do you, Bull of Crete...”
His gaze flickers.
The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.
It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.
He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…
“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”
You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.
“You must promise to be kind to me.”
“Kind...?”
“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”
Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.
“But... You smell like you want to fuck.”
Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.
“I don’t–How would you know that…?”
The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.
“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to…”
He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.
You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick.
“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”
The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.
Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...
And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.
“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.
“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.”
You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.
You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.
“Lead the way, maiden.”
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STAY, TOO | AETHER
desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him
notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers
Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed.
You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.
“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.
You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”
“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”
You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.
“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”
Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”
What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.
Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.
“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.
When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?
“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.
Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”
“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”
Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”
“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”
Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”
“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”
You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.
“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”
Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.
“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.
For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.
“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.
Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”
You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”
“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”
“I didn’t reject him!”
Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”
You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.
Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.
You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.
And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.
To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.
“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”
“Is that what’s stopping you?”
“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”
Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”
“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”
“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”
“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”
You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?
“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”
You wished that it wasn’t like that.
“Y/N! Are you here?”
Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.
Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.
“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.
You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”
Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”
“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?
“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”
You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.
“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.
“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”
“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”
Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”
You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”
“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”
You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”
Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”
You laughed dryly—good one.
“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”
And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.
His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.
“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.
“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.
He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.
“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”
You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.
Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.
You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”
“Yes.”
You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”
“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”
“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”
“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.
Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.
“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”
Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.
You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.
“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.
You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.
You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.
You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.
“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.
“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.
And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.
You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.
He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.
“Stay,” Aether rasped.
You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.
But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.
You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.
“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”
You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”
Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”
Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”
You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”
You threw a pillow to his face.
He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”
His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.
“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”
You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.
Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”
“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?
Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.
“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”
“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.
Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”
Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”
You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”
Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”
Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.
Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.
“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”
THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh
thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#aether x reader#aether x you#aether x y/n#genshin x y/n
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helloo, just wondering if I could request an imagine for gen z driver and everything that happened last weekend in Qatar! How the heat affected her, and maybe something dramatic and how the other drivers, fans and teams maybe worried about her, thank u sm<3
a random day in my life in f1
pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid
summary: a vlog about our beloved genz!drivers day in the paddock
word count: 2k
warnings: none
note: merry christmas and a happy new year!
thanks for staying with me this year and into the new one :)
it’s not exactly like you asked and i’m sorry for that… but this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, and i just had to like give it some meaning…
masterlist / taglist
The vlogging camera was always secured somewhere in her bags, but she almost never used it. Being overwhelmed fast by all of the other cameras, she didn’t want to create herself more anxiety. But today was different.
„Hi guys!“ Her face appeared on the screen. Much too close, you could almost see her pimples she got from her sweaty balaclava.
The camera swayed and the paddock was shown. „We‘re here in Qatar, it’s beautiful. It is-“, the video switched to her watch „-2pm on a Thursday, that means Free Practice!“
Light music played in the background of the video, but you could still hear the busy paddock. People talking and walking in the background. Sometimes there would even be shouting, but y/n didn’t care, she just smiled into the camera.
„I’ll take you with me through my day! Are you excited? I bet you are“, she smiled. „Uhm, Qatar is a night race, as many of you probably know… but FP1 is still in daylight, which I’m glad, because I can actually see the track and not just feel it-“, she gestures the curves of the track with her hand „-you know? Yea…“, she mumbles the last part.
The video switches to a different setting. y/n now standing inside of her garage: „I have to be careful what I show here, it’s like Hippa in hospitals“, she laughs, „with privacy and all, we don’t want the other teams to know what strategies we’ve been working on.“
„But that’s my car“, she points to the newly polished F1 car, „she got a new look just for this race, can you believe it?“ The camera sways around the car to show off the new design.
„It’s really hot here, make sure to drink enough guys!“ An animation of a glass being filled with water appeared on the screen. „If it works, you should see some water right now“, the young driver grins.
The view changes again, this time to her watch: „We have 3.30pm, it’s time for me to warm up, but I’m actually already very hot, so maybe my trainer will let me off?“ She looks expectantly at her trainer, who only shakes his head no. „Aww man, worth a shot though.“
She placed the camera on the ground to film her warmup. The timelapse shows how she starts to lightly jog on the place. Her trainer starts to throw tennis balls at her. You couldn’t hear it in the video, but he shouts with which hand she has to catch the ball.
The music was catchy and in best with her rope jumping. y/n face was red and she was sweating extremely. She was puffing and breathing heavily. In this humid weather, even inside the cooling garage, it was hard to train. How would she survive in an already 40° hot car, for over 50 laps?
The music stops, so does the timelapse. You can see y/n breathing loud as she laid on the floor. Her head turned towards the camera and she smiles lightly. „Phew, never doing that again“, she laughs.
The video changes again, as y/n walks down the paddock to visit some of her friends: „I’m on my way to the McLaren hospitality. Lando and I have that tradition for Free Practice. We always get a smoothie before, so we don’t have to drink some weird protein shake.“
The view sways around and you can see the bright orange from McLaren. You could hear Lando before he was even in the video. His laugh loud and prominent. „Hi y/n‘s fans!“, he waves into the camera.
„This is Lando Norris, if you didn’t know. He drives for McLaren!“, she explains to her viewers. „I hope they know who I am…“, Lando pouts. She shushes him and giggles.
„What smoothie are you gonna get?“, she asks Lando. „McLaren hospitality has the best smoothies, I swear. Mine doesn’t even have smoothies, can you believe that?“
„Uhm, I think I’ll get the green one, I don’t want to hear anything from Jon, so that’s the only safe option“, he sighs. y/n grimaces, as the green smoothie tastes the worst.
„I think I want the red one, the one with the dragonfruit in it, so I can fly through this Free Practice like a dragon“, she laughs.
Lando rolls his eyes but still has to laugh at her shitty joke. „That was such a bad joke.“ - „But you love me anyway“, y/n grins.
You see y/n full on sweaty and with a red head. „Free Practice is done, it was hot, like really hot, Imma hop into my ice bath for a second and yea. I’ll probably go to the Hotel after to cool down, so I’m fully prepared for Qualifying.“
A shot of the pink rubber duck floating in the ice bath was shown. The duck was flipped and it showed the temperature of the water. 8°C. Perfect for a hot day like this.
„Ohh, I’m almost vaporising“, y/n laughs as she submerges in the water. „My skin is so hot and the water so cold, it’s like I’m the hot metal they put into water, I love this videos, I binge watch them before I go to sleep“, she confesses.
„Anyway, have you seen my pink ducky? I got it from Carlos! I was jealous of his, so he bought me my own temperature duck, isn’t that sweet?“
The next shot was y/n in her hotel room. She was laying in her bed, scrolling through her phone and occasionally laughing. The view was amazing, the sun was setting and you could see so much of Qatar.
„Good morning! It’s Friday then, it’s Saturday, Sunday, what?“
„Welcome“, she laughs, „I’m eating breakfast together with Max, say hi Max!“, Max waves into the camera. „I’m eating Avocado Toast with some Salmon - good fats for my body and Max is eating, actually, what are you eating Max?“
The view changes to Max‘ plate. There was a mix of different things, like some roaster potatoes and beans and some weird, almost wool like thing on his plate. „It’s potatoes, beans and some sauerkraut“, he explains. „What? Sauerkraut?“ - „Yea, I don’t know, apparently it’s good for your body.“
y/n makes a face of disgust and the screen goes black for a second.
„Okay, Q1 and Q2 are finished, got stuck in Q2, but I’m glad I don’t have to start in Q3 honestly, I can focus on the Sprint Shootout later. It’s hot in the car, hotter than usual.“
The scene changes, again to y/n laying exhausted on the floor. From the side you can see Oscar creeping up with a big glass of water. The moment the water hits y/n‘s skin, she’s up and about chasing the rookie.
„Oscar!“ And she sprints out of the view. The screen goes black and then you can see Oscar’s wet hair and two smiley young drivers. „She dumped me“, he huffs. „Into the water“, she says for clarification.
„It’s race day!“, she screams into the camera. „Well sprint day“, she says less excited. „I hate driving in these conditions. It’s way too hot, I’d rather drive on ice than this.“
The scenery changes again, cars driving around the parking lot. „I came here with Charles and Carlos, we’re staying at the same hotel and to save our carbon footprint, with all the excessive driving we do anyway, we thought we carpooled.“
You can see Charles driving and Carlos sitting in the passenger seat. „They wouldn’t let me drive, even though I’m an F1 driver“, she sighs. You can hear Carlos laugh and say: „Have you seen your driving style on the street? No way I would sit in that car.“
The young woman shakes her head and tuts. „You wouldn’t understand“, she whispered into the camera. Charles laughs.
„You know, for you being Australian, you’re still very sweaty.“ - „What? I’m not sweaty, that’s my natural glow“, Daniel laughs. „Natural for sure“, she mumbles.
„What even are you doing? You’ve been walking around with that thing for the past three days“, Danny asks. „I’m vlogging!“ - „You’re what?“, he asks confused. „You’re old, that’s what you are. It’s like blogging but with a video, so it’s vlogging“, she explains with a sigh. The older out of the two just makes an ‚oh‘ sound and laughs.
„I wanted to make a ‚a random day in my life in f1‘ video but it turned out to be a ‚a random four days in my life in f1‘ video.“
Fernando looks confused at y/n. „What?“, he blinks at her. „You know, it should’ve been a video about one day, now it’s about the whole race week“, she explains. „Ahh, okay“, Fernando answers, still unsure what the younger driver tries to explain him. „You wanna say hi?“, she asks him.
„Hi“, he replies. Fernando was not yet in view, but you could hear him. „Into the camera, Nando. You know how this works, you’ve done press and TikTok!“
„Hi“, he says again, this time Fernandos forehead was in excellent view. You could hear y/n‘s giggles as he took the camera out of her hand. „This is for my wife, Taylor, who’s cheating with another athlete!“
The camera was set down and Fernando stood up. „What are you doing?“, y/n‘s giggles continued. „Play Cardigan by Taylor Swift please“, he whisper shouts. As soon as the music begins, Fernando dances and sings to it.
„This is me before the sprint“, y/n looks into the camera and holds up a piece sign, „And this is me after the sprint.“ Face red and puffy. „Athletes sweat, I‘m a real athlete“, she quotes Daniel.
The camera sways to Oscar, who won his first race/sprint. „How do you feel, Mr. Piastri?“ - „I’m hot and sweaty, I wanna drown myself in an iceberg or something.“
„Yea same“, she huffs. „Listen, this race is exhausting. We drive in an unnormal heat, alone in the car it’s 40°C when the outside temperature is like 20°C. But the outside temperature here is already like 40°C, imagine what it’s like inside our cars.
This is for the FIA: I lost like 7kg this sprint race alone, just from sweating. What about you, Os?“ - „I don’t know if I want to say anything to the FIA“, he says lowly. „Ahh, they won’t see that anyway“, she reassures him. „I lost like eight pounds, maybe?“ - „How much is that in kilograms?“, she asks him slowly. He laughs and says: „Maybe 3.5kg.“
„Mr. Verstappen how many kilograms did you lose today?“, she shouts over the paddock. Max halts and turns around to face the camera that was shoved in his face.
„The scale says five, why? How much did you lose?“ - „Seven! Can you believe that?“
„This race really is torture, and we only raced, what, 16 laps? I don’t know.“ - „Can’t wait for tomorrow“, Lando sighs.
The screen goes black for a second again, before the same music started from her warm up at Free Practice. The timelapse begins again and you can see y/n sweating.
Occasionally she sits down to have a sip of water, but her trainer gets her up again. Her face appears wide in front of the camera and she starts to sing the lyrics as the music fades.
„Race day, baby, hoping for a good result today! I feel it in my sweat that I’ve been losing over the past few days“, she jokes.
She gets filmed as she gets into her car, it’s being rolled out of the garage and she makes the shaka with both her hands.
We get a few scenes as she drives past the start line and as she crosses the finish line, the radio messages was overlaid on the video.
„That is P4, baby!“, her race engineer shouted. „Yes! C‘mon! I almost fainted the last three laps, but totally worth it!“
You can see the podium being filmed from the ground. Max won, of course but; „Oscar and Lando! Woohoo! P2 and P3 for my Papaya Boys“, she screams as the McLaren drivers received their trophy.
The video ends with y/n sneaking into the room where they celebrated their podium in private. They were all exhausted.
„You reek of sweat and champagne“, y/n says from behind the camera. All three laugh and Max throws his towel at her camera. The screen goes black.
Comments 3.2K
user i- what was this?
user2 love, love, LOVE the smoothie tradition
user3 qatar should be banned from the schedule
user4 what do you mean, you almost fainted on the last 3 laps? what is going on?
user5 i heard lance almost fainted too
user6 this is cruel, but also love the content
user7 I WANT TO CRADLE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THAT SHE CAN TAKE AN ICY SHOWER
user8 kimi would’ve walked straight to his yacht
user9 nando’s so right playing cardigan
user10 I KNEW YOU, PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AND GIVING ME YOUR WEEKENDS!
youtube this was… eventful?
user11 ariana, what are you doing here?
user12 that’s so old
user13 shut up, they’re probably from all the tiktok edits here on yt
user11 what’s tiktok?
user14 love the new content
f1 wowza, y/n is just stealing our job! next stop: y/n hosts grill the grid
°°°
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#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo#charles leclerc#fernando alonso#genz driver#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x f!reader#max verstappen x reader#female driver#female f1 driver
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Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)
of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚
(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay 😭)
Very affectionate behind closed doors
Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.
A pretty decent cook, to say the least
Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3
Midnight joyrides are the best
Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd
Getting out of bed is almost impossible
The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."
Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist
I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)
He asks for fashion advice, sometimes
Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.
His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch
This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.
Very protective over you
It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.
Acts all tough, but melts when you're around
Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.
Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse
Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.
#✎ ─ nyx fics !#jason todd x reader#jason todd x gn!reader#jason todd headcanons#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x gn!reader#red hood headcanons#dcu#dc comics#red hood#jason todd#bf!jason todd x reader
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Slytherin boys x reader (kinky shit vol.2)
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, orgasm denial kink (?), not proof read, long lost trashy & horny draft from my wattpad era (a moment of silence for that), cringe, enjoy ?
(not that anyone rlly cares, but i thought I’d at least pull this out since i haven’t posted actual writing in 1,5 weeks, vol.1 in case you’re curious)
Mattheo Riddle:
Mattheo was incredibly skilled with his mouth, knowing just where to flick his tongue and how hard to suck on your clit to make you melt. Shaking and squirming, you’d grab onto his curly hair, and he would hold your thighs over his shoulders and bury his face deep within your sweet cunt. Always licking up every drip coming from your precious cunt and sucking his fingers clean after stretching you out.
Eventually he figured that he could make you even needier by removing himself for a few seconds. In response you would desperately pull his head closer to your cunt and whine him “don’t you dare fucking stop now”, but he’d just tease your entrance by slowly licking stripes, so you wouldn’t be able to reach your climax.
It was torture, yet you have to admit he made it worth it. “Please Matty keep going”, you’d plea, “plea- please just pleasee”, you’d just repeat that as often as you could, but he enjoyed seeing you on edge.
Tom Riddle:
It’s his favorite form of punishing you for when you act bratty towards him, or when he’s in an angry mood in general, which is quite frequently. His practice of orgasm denial involves painstakingly long teasing until your cunt is all worn out and until you basically can’t think properly anymore. All your thoughts just revolve around one thing, riding out your orgasm completely without feeling as if something was being ripped away from you instead. Tom always fucks you first, pulling out just when you’re about to cum. Instead he releases himself all over your thighs, and leaves you to your own devices. The more needy you become, the longer he’ll torture you to see your breaking point. He has a dildo his size, which he’ll fuck you with, always pulling out just when you’re about to cum. It was an endless circle, even bringing out tears in you because it’s too unbearable and you just desperately want to experience that intensive orgasm. Usually he doesn’t let you have it though. Because of that you become unbelievably horny during the next few days, wanting Tom to use you and fuck you in any sort of way, but of course he’d rather watch you squirm and whine under him. “Should’ve thought twice before being a brat”/“Only good girls derserve to cum”/“You look so pathetic, begging for my cock”
Theodore Nott:
Instead of the popular silent treatment you gave to Theo sometimes when you were mad, you also enjoyed seeing him all fidgety and out of control. “Please don’t do this”, he’d beg, but it would all be in vain. Once you decided to bounce up and down on his swollen cock, he couldn’t keep it together anymore. You didn’t allow him to grab your tits, nor to cum. Once you rode his cock long enough to get you close, you got off of him and fingered yourself in front of him until you made a mess of the sheets. His cock would just leak precum from watching you get off, but he was gonna try to not disobey you. He wasn’t allowed to cum until you gave him explicit permission. After you rode him, he was most likely a swearing mess, desperate to touch his own cock and replicate what you do to him. “That’s what you get for making me mad”, you’d tell him and he’d apologize about a thousand times. Sometimes, out of pity, you then satisfy him by allowing him to touch himself, but other times he wouldn’t be so lucky and had to wait until the next day possibly. “I swear I’ll never do it again”, he whines or “Please I’ll do anything”
Blaise Zabini:
He knows that you enjoy your orgasms way more when they’ve been delayed because then they’re just so much more intensive that way. So, when you do it, he obviously wants to make you feel good, even if that means making you feel incredibly bad, even if it’s in a good way, for a moment. His cock was big by all means, it stretched you out perfectly and fit you just right. So after he comes inside you, he makes you cockwarm him instead of pulling out completely. This way he’ll watch you struggle to not roll your hips because if you did you’d try to get him to hit your g-spot. Then, all of a sudden, he’d grab your waist, make you straddle him, and control your body movements with his hands on your waist. Blaise will pull down, and thrust into you from under you. You can’t help but let out a series of cries because Blaise pounded so deep into you that you were sure you’re insides would never recover. Although he’s lying down, he’s still the one in control, so any pleasure you get is decided by him. “Not yet babe”/“Hold on a little longer ok” As you finally get to have your orgasm, it’s the most intense yet satisfying feeling in the world.
Enzo Berkshire:
Broken was the only word to describe Enzo when he was suffering from not being able to cum due to having a cock ring on. You used it for punishing him sometimes, for unintentionally flirting with other girls, but also just for fun and to spice up your bedroom activities. It vibrated his inflated cock, but also restricted it from shooting out his sweet release. The entire room would be filled with Enzo’s variations of noises, begging and whines. “How much longer”, he keeps asking while making filthy sounds and “I can’t keep it in anymore please” he’d always plea. Enzo would also always come close to tears, though he definitely enjoyed the sinful mix of pleasure and pain too. There were also several intensity settings on the useful cock ring and any time he’d swear, you put it higher. He was entirely under your control, and anything he did would result in his cock just suffering longer from the prolonged torture. You watched him squirm in his bed, completely naked, and even humping the bed at times to get some sort of friction, but that never ended well as you would set the vibrations even higher. His cock was so close to coming, yet only measly drops of precum came out. It was truly a sight.
Draco Malfoy:
Combined with public factors, orgasm denial is your favorite way of watching your boyfriend struggle to keep it together. Otherwise everyone would find out what an obedient boy he was for you, totally unlike the usual bad boy persona he puts on. When all your friends hang out around the common room couch, near the fireplace, a blanket always covers you two. It’s normal, since everyone shares a blanket with either a friend or partner. The twist comes when you slyly slide your hands all the way down to his crotch and rub him through his pyjama pants first. Draco always inhales sharply, knowing he’ll have to be on his best behavior. He shifts all the time, trying to secretly hump himself on the palm of your hand, acting like a stupid fuck toy. So, to tell him to cut it out, you lightly squeeze his length, sending him a warning sign. He should remember that you were the one in control. When you decide he deserves it, you start massaging his cock, pumping it ever so slowly and circling your thumb over his crown. As soon as you hear the grunts, signaling that he can’t keep it in any longer, you slide your hands out of his pants again and act as you were. Draco’s own pleasure had to wait until you were in private, until then he’d quietly whine “Please let me cum, pleasee”/“I swear I’ll do anything you want”
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys fanfiction#tom riddle#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#blaise zabini x you#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x you#enzo berkshire#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys react
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