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theglamorousferal · 2 days

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Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au Part 2

AO3 Prompt Part 1

(Things get a bit angsty here for a bit, but don't worry, it gets back to some of the cracky-goodness!)

After allowing himself to relax for a bit and actually letting his muscles loosen for once, Jason rose from the bath and rinsed himself off under a piping hot and strong shower. He finished the rinse off with a flash of cold water to focus back up and made his way to the vanity where there was basic hotel amenities. He attempted to style his hair and after at least drying it, pulled on the fluffiest robe he has felt since he first moved into the manor all those years ago.

Fuck. The family. The Outlaws...

Jason put his face in both his hands and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he dragged his hands from his face to his sides. He marched in a lazy manor over to the end of the large bed where he flopped face down. Surprisingly, it wasn't as fluffy as he was expecting and he silently thanked whatever force there was that he wouldn't have to resort to sleeping on the floor or a chair for the familiarity. Though, he turned his head to face the windows, that little reading nook looks like I could easily fall asleep there.

No, stop it. Do I remember the Dimensional Code for home?

Jason contemplated. On one hand, it could be useful, on the other, they could have an entirely different category system here. He spent the next however long trying to remember the dimensional code for his Earth and tracing the swirls of purples and greens out the large windows. A knock startled him.

"Jason? Are you decent?" He stood quickly and pulled the robe tighter together, not quite ready to show his autopsy scars to his soul-owner? A literal goddess? He wasn't quite sure what she was yet.

"Uh, yes, come in, I'm covered." He tried to stand casually next to the bed when he had just been sitting, his hands now in his pockets.

"Hi, so one of my aides figured one thing out about the ritual that is somewhat concerning and also something I probably also should have brought up. Mind if we sit at the window?" She strode in and settled herself with a pillow against the window and waited for him to do the same. Once he was settled, she hesitated for a moment before sighing and looking out the window to the haunting site outside.

"The Infinite Realms has another name, one coined from my Earth." She licked her lips before she spoke again. "It's also known as the Ghost Zone. As the dimension between dimensions, it is also where beings known as ghosts, the Restless Dead, Neverborn, Gods, and all sorts of other beings that thrive off a substance known as ectoplasm reside. As such, I am current Queen Regent of Ghosts." She let him think for a moment before turning to him. "That means I can tell when someone is death-touched." Jason froze. "I didn't mention it before because I know it's super personal, but then my aide figured out that the ritual only worked because of the fact you are and especially since you had spent time here-" She cut herself off as his eyes just bugged out larger with every word that spilled from her lips. "Sorry, I just, I'm death-touched too. I haven't died yet, but I have been around death magic, or radiation, or whatever it is, since before conception. I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know it was deeply traumatic. I can have my healers take a look at your soul and see if it's alright because it kinda radiates a bit how traumatic it was." She bit her lip with one hand raised near her chin.

Jason closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw tight and blowing the air harshly out his nose. He fell back against the window, allowing his head to knock against the glass. It was warm, as though the sunlight was gently shining upon it. "Yeah." He croaked. "Yeah, I died." He said softer. "I was dead for roughly six months." He dipped his head forward to block his face with his bangs. "Crawled outta my own grave." He laughed bitterly. "Spent a while wandering, a while more in a coma." He swallowed tickly. "Got picked up by my dad's vindictive ex and trained for a while to be an assassin." He looked up at her, making eye contact. "She dunked me in this pit of magic shit, we call it a Lazarus pit in my dimension. It cures those near death and kills the healthy. Fixed me up the rest of the way, or at least the scars and issues I had pre-death. I got to keep these." He allowed the top of the robe to fall away, showing the tops of the large y-shaped scar that ran the length of his torso. She gasped, both hands coming to cover her mouth, tears began to form in her eyes. She reached out as if to touch them and stopped herself, her face turning determined.

"I, Jazmine Nightingale, High Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, the Mediator, the Caretaker, and all those other titles." She waved her wrist. "Declare that I will help you however you deem necessary. Whether that be helping your soul, returning you to your dimension, breaking this binding, or whatever. You are currently bound to you, and as such that makes you my responsibilities." She paused in her speech for a moment, thinking. "I mean, you're already technically one of my subjects because I think you qualify as one of the Restless Dead, but we'll figure out your classification when we take you to a healer. For now, it has been a long day. I will have one of my aides come to get your measurements for some clothes, I'm sure we have some around here somewhere that should fit you at least for dinner. The aides can get any style you like and it can be made quickly by the seamstresses we have on staff." At his hesitation she added with a smile, "They work in supernatural means, they will not overwork themselves by making an entire wardrobe in a few hours."

She patted the cushion in front of her and stood. "I will meet you at dinner, it's not formal at all, don't worry about dressing fancy, I'm just still in this getup from 'official queen stuff'" she said with air quotes looking tired. "I'll see you in a bit Jason!"

"Yes, um, your majesty." He stood to bow, the robe making it a bit difficult."

"Just Jazz please, for the love of the Ancients." She said with a pained look on her face.

"Right, sorry," he stammered, straightening, "See you later, Jazz." She smiled softly before leaving him to himself. He smacked his hand to his face groaning at himself before flopping face-first into the bed again. "She's the ruler of the dead and she's so determined and nice, what the actual hell? She's so earnest, it's so cute!" he sat up leaning his elbow on his knee. "Okay, operation Romance Plot is go. She isn't put off by the fact you died, this is good, I can work with this. Okay, so castle, let's go with that aesthetic. I'm thinking let's go with a poet shirt and some black slacks for dinner tonight." He claps his hands in front of him, decision made.

As if summoned by his words, there was another knock at the door. A man with bright sky blue skin and a deep plum butler's uniform opened the door, a measuring tape casually thrown over his shoulders.

"Yes, hello good sir. What aesthetic are we thinking for this evening?" he said in a posh accent.

Jason clasped his hands together. "What should I call you? Would you possibly have a poet's shirt and a pair of black formal slacks for this evening?"

"You may call me Jeeves. Yes that Jeeves. I am the personification of the trope of the helpful butler, and as such my power set includes anything and everything that could help me complete the duties of head butler of the High Family's home. We absolutely do have that attire on hand, it would be but a moment for someone to fetch it for us. Now did you have any ideas about future attire?" Jeeves snapped his fingers and a skeleton manifested in a swirl of dust to obey his silent command to gather the requested clothing.

Jason paused for a moment, considering. "How does the Queen usually dress casually around the castle? I know she said she was from an Earth. I don't know where in the timeline her Earth is from and she mentioned that what she was wearing earlier was mostly for special occasions, so I don't want to look like an idiot." He explained.

"Very good sir, she typically dresses in either a less formal toga if she's to be seen anywhere near the public areas of the castle, her armor whilst sparring with her knights, the High Princes and Princess, and if she is only going between her room and study then her far less formal Earth clothing which is a long sleeved blouse and lightwash jeans, typical of the late 1990's and early 2000's."

Jason thought for a moment. He didn't know how long he would be stuck here, but decided that clothes enough to last a fortnight should work. For all he knew, time flowed differently between here and his home dimension. Decision made, he told the butler what he wanted. Measurements were taken, the skeleton arrived with the requested clothes and Jason was left to change into his clothes for the evening. He still is wearing his combat boots because he forgot to ask for a pair of shoes.

Once changed, he realized that he still probably had a bit before dinner and he walked over to one of the bookshelves browsing the titles. There were several classics that he recognized, his favorite, Pride and Prejudice, was there. There were a few as well with Jane Austen's name, but not titles he recognized. He decided to come back to those later and pulled what looked like a collection of fairy tales from the shelf then settled himself lounging in the window nook to read for the next few hours.

#dpxdc #fanfic #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #sacrificial bride au #get it jason #live out your romance novel dreams #I really want to do more #but it's almost midnight here #and I have work in the am

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springwitch26 · 7 months

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i'm asking nicely: give me what i want (melissa schemmenti x fem!teacher!reader)

summary: you and your girlfriend make a bet about who can last the longest without sex.

warnings: nsfw themes but no smut (yet), sorta humiliation, praise, mentions of overstim and bondage and punishment, explicit language. you and melissa are gay idiots

notes: a little something for your kinktober tastes! sorry it's not the fluffiest story—i'm like mostly aromantic, so i can't write love very well. this is my first time writing with the whole abbott gang, so let me know how i did! this one goes out to the girls who love teasing, light bickering, and sexy dialogue.

it all started with a bet.

you and melissa had been dating for just under a month (publicly for two weeks), and it was pure bliss. every time she looked at you with that playful sparkle in her eyes, you wanted to melt. she cared for you in a way that never failed to warm your heart.

she was passionate, too. her touch was magic. she could just lightly graze your thigh with her fingers, and you'd be putty in her hands. and she made you feel desirable. every time you were intimate, you could tell she was hungry for you. it turned you on beyond belief.

although things were wonderful between you two, you both loved a fight. you both realized this early on, and you'd take turns starting silly arguments for the fun of it. you could never resist pushing each other's buttons.

at worst, it would end with one of you pouting and the other apologizing. at best, it would end with you bent over melissa's lap as she took her frustrations out on you, or with you between her legs making up for being mean, or with her whispering soft apologies in your ear as she bounced you on her fingers...

tonight she had you pinned against her kitchen counter, kissing her way down your neck and relishing in your high-pitched sounds of need. she had been teasing you all day, working you up into a frenzy, and you did nothing but whine about how unfair it was. you would have let it go, but that was before she said...

"you're so easy, hon." she laughed into the crook of our neck, responding to your helpless whimpers. you pulled back and looked at her with wide eyes.

"mel... i am not," you said with a pout. she stared back at you, an amused smirk playing on her lips. god, she looked beautiful like this: her red hair slightly out of place, her full chest heaving, her eyes heavy with want.

"sure you're not," she teased. "that's why your legs are trembling 'n you can barely hold yourself up after a little bit of kissing."

she kissed the tip of your nose and you blushed, knowing she was right. she pressed you harder against the counter, holding your hips with both hands. she gently pinched the skin there, silently asking if she could continue. you shook your head resolutely.

"let's make this more interesting," you said, with mischief written on your face. melissa perked up. she loved bets. "no sex until one of us gives in and asks for it."

"alright, but don't ask me to put money on it. you know i quit gamblin' after i bet ava that jacob couldn't do a backflip."

"he is surprisingly agile," you giggled at the memory. "how about... if i win, you buy me that white lingerie set we saw at the store the other day."

melissa shuddered internally at the thought of her beautiful, innocent angel in such a heavenly set. the image gave her an idea of her own.

"deal," she leaned in close, ghosting her lips over the shell of your ear. "but if i win... i get to tie your arms and legs to the bedposts and make you come over and over until you sob."

you forgot how to breathe for a moment, and your knees nearly buckled underneath you. you contemplated folding right then, but you wanted to see where this little game would lead.

"you're on, schemmenti." you shook her hand, and melissa chuckled at your attempt at a firm handshake. even her laugh got you flustered and needy. you were a goner.

---

you knew melissa would come up with some plot to make you lose the game, but you didn't expect it to happen so soon. the next morning, you and melissa were sitting at your usual table in the workroom, sipping coffee and chatting with everyone. that's when her antics started.

"hey, doll, would you mind grabbin' me another cup of coffee?" melissa asked, handing you her 'tucci on' mug and flashing that irresistibly charming smile. you took the mug from her hands and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before heading to the coffee maker.

you could feel her eyes on you as you stood up, straightening out your skirt that had ridden up a bit too far to be appropriate for school. she continued to stare you down as you poured the coffee and brought it to her. you felt breathless from the intensity of her full attention.

"that's my good girl, thank you," she practically purred when you handed her the coffee, looking up at you smugly through her glasses. you nearly dropped the mug from shock, shooting her a look. how could she be so bold in front of your coworkers? it made you blush furiously.

gregory was the first to catch on, giving an awkward side eye to the cameras at melissa's words. melissa was undeterred, taking a sip of her coffee and making an exaggerated sound of pleasure, causing you to hide your face in your hands.

"god, that hits the spot," melissa said lowly, smirking at her own innuendo. jacob and janine looked between the two of you and each other, trading curious looks.

"oh hon, your necklace is all tangled in the back," melissa said, standing up and positioning herself behind you. "let me fix it for ya."

the older woman leaned down and caressed up your arms, leaving goosebumps in her wake. her fingers then crawled from your collarbones to the back of your neck, where she knew you were sensitive. she pretended to adjust your necklace while her fingers drew lazy patterns there. that, combined with the feeling of her warmth on you after the previous night's denial, had you weak. she sat back down in her chair with a satisfied huff.

at melissa's odd behavior and your pitiful reaction, your friends put it together that something was going on. even barbara gave melissa a questioning look. still, nobody said anything. until ava entered the room. the principal took one look at your flushed face and broke the silence.

"damn schemmenti, what'd you do to this one? i figured you were into some kinky shit, but..." she trailed off.

"AVA!" janine, barbara, and melissa scolded at once. "not appropriate!" barbara added.

"fine, but y'all know i'm right," ava said. she turned to you and melissa. "you better be at happy hour tonight. this looks juicy, and i'm gonna need some entertainment besides janine's dance moves."

you tuned out janine's offended "hey!", remembering the plans for that night. happy hour. fuck. you needed a plan, and a good one.

---

you never thought you'd willingly ask for ava's help on anything, but here you were. you sat in her office with your arms folded, embarrassed to be sharing this with your boss of all people. then again, ava was the probably the only person who knew how to get the job done.

"you really think that'll work?" you asked, mulling over ava's idea.

"obviously. you gotta use that body, girl. i'm talkin' playboy bunny sexy," she scrolled on her phone as she talked, keeping up her usual disinterested demeanor.

"but... what if she's put off by it?" you wondered aloud. ava looked up from her phone and raised an eyebrow at you.

"i don't know if you've noticed, but your girlfriend's a total perv," she deadpanned. your jaw dropped and you stared at her, incredulous. "what, it's true! i see her lookin' up your skirt and down your shirt every damn day. y'all nasty."

she was right, of course. you didn't always catch it, but whenever you bent over in front of melissa, she looked ready to eat you alive. you gave in and started to plot tonight's outfit in your head.

"thanks, ava! next time i need help coming up with a scheme, i'll come to you," you said, bouncing out of the room excitedly.

"run, little lesbian bunny! go get your girl!" ava laughed to herself and went back to her phone.

---

melissa's eyes were dark and narrow, fixed on you in your special outfit. you couldn't tell if she was angry or turned on. probably both.

your clothing was tasteful, yet tantalizing: a strawberry pink crop top with a generous v-neck and white mini skirt (the one that drove mel crazy). a sheer pink slip was draped over your shoulders, giving your body a distinct glow under the bar lights. you had even dolled yourself up with makeup—soft lip gloss and glittery eyeshadow, plus classic eyeliner and mascara—and worn your favorite white heels to match. you looked out of place in the bar, like an angel wandering the earth.

you pointedly ignored melissa as she stared daggers at you. you played with your hair with one hand and held your drink with the other, dancing and talking with jacob and ava. you made sure to run your hands up and down your body while you moved to the music. jacob droned on to you about the color pink and how it's so powerful for women to reclaim it. barbara stood next to melissa, the pair leaning against the wall and trading hushed remarks.

while jacob continued to talk, you made your move. you gave ava a nudge and she nodded, then "accidentally" knocked your water out of your hand—completely soaking your shirt and a bit of your skirt. you stood up in faux shock and finally made eye contact with melissa as you palmed at your clothes (and body).

"oh godddd," you whined, dragging out the sound. two could play at that game. you walked over to melissa. "baby, can you clean me up? i know you keep napkins in your purse."

melissa was salivating. she shamelessly drank in the sight of your body all wet, your tits glistening with droplets of water. the water was icy cold, so the outlines of your nipples were visible underneath your shirt. she was almost too focused on the view to process your request, and scrambled to find the napkins in her purse once she caught up.

"uhmmm yeah, yeah, i gotcha, honey," melissa said in a rare moment of weakness.

when a napkin inevitably got lost in the shuffle and fell to the ground, you knew you had won. you bent over slowly, wiggling your ass subtly as you picked it up. you stumbled backwards as you stood back up, deliberately brushing up against her front.

"i'm so cold, mel..." you turned around, leaned even closer into her, and grabbed hold of her shirt, tracing lazy patterns on her chest to tease her. "i've got goosebumps, feel!"

you took her hand in yours and then placed it at the top of your left breast, where your heart was. the soft skin was indeed covered in goosebumps, and even more emerged when melissa started lightly massaging. she couldn't help herself. you both felt your heartbeat quicken at her touch and shared a look of understanding.

"guess we should get ya home then, huh?" melissa smiled, wrapping her arm around your waist. you nodded, nuzzling into her.

you two said goodbye to your friends before leaving the bar. ava gave you a wink and a lewd gesture as you walked out the door, making you roll your eyes. barbara rose her wine glass and nodded at melissa, giving her a silent "cheers."

---

as soon as the car door shut, melissa grabbed your thigh to get your full attention.

"i quit," she smiled. "and i'll be happy to buy you that lingerie, especially after seein' you in this pretty little number."

you beamed with pride. you had won a competition against melissa schemmenti! and you couldn't wait to enjoy your prize. seeing your face, mel's face broke into a mischievous grin.

"don't get all excited yet, sweetheart. you were pretty bratty tonight, flittin' around and makin' a fool of me in front of all our friends. i really should teach you a lesson, don't ya think?"

your breath caught in your throat as you remembered what she'd promised to do if she won. she had never punished you before. your core throbbed at the idea.

"i guess it's only fair that you get a... consolation prize," you replied sheepishly, grinning from ear to ear as you watched her face light up.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #kinktober #melissa schemmenti x y/n #fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you

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justwonder113 · 9 months

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Showering Lee Know with affection

Bang Chan; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

I wanted to make this a drabble but i have literally no control

Summary: You've been waiting for Minho to make a move for ages, so what happens when he actually does?

Warning: Best friends to lovers. Reader feels anxious but nothing over the top. Some cursing. Reader is a bit on the timid side at first but she gets bold. Minho and reader banter with each other. Worried Minho. Reader is whipped for Minho ( who isn't honestly). Not proofread Word count-2470

A/N - I'm thinking to write " showering him with affection" fic with every member. I will try to write and upload Changbin's as soon as I can. Please feel free to interact, I will gladly hear anything you have to say. Requests are open too, so if you want me to write something I'll do my best❤️

It was one of those days that took your whole energy away, and desperately made you wish you were in bed cocooned in your fluffiest blankets and chill without a care in the world. Thankfully you didn't have that much to do that day, you were just feeling passive. But, unfortunately, you couldn't say the same about your best friend. With comeback being just around the corner he and boys had been working their butts off. You desperately wished there was something you could do to help him in any way, to lessen his burden, but there was so much you could do.

You sighed and looked at your chat with Minho. He had not been on contact for 7 hours now. The last text said that he would text you when he had time but here you were now, still not a word from him.

You looked out the window, the city looked unusually calm but maybe it was because you were feeling bit detached. It was also one of the nights where sleep didn't come so easy. You were feeling sore all over and tired out of your mind but, despite that, you couldn't keep your eyes shut. Maybe it was because you were worried about Minho, maybe it was because you missed him so much you felt like you were missing a part of yourself. It's been days since you last saw him. You knew how busy he could get, especially when he had comback like this, but you couldn't help but worry, more so when you knew how hardworking and perfectionist he was. It wouldn't be a surprise if he, even at this hour, was at the company working his butt off. Sometimes the urge to just smack him was too strong. You both loved and hated these qualities of his-his dedication and sense of responsibility was something to admire yes, but you hated that because of this he owerworked himself to sheer exaustion, you hated that he worked sometimes so hard that he even forgot to eat. In times like this you tried to remind him regularly to take care of himself, also, whenever you could, you tried to bring him food but you could do so much. You were also mad that you had to be so busy you also didn't have time to be as there for him as you wanted. You just had to be loaded with work too.

You sighed yet again and stood up, sulking to yourself wouldn't do much good, so you would at least be productive. Also, maybe if you tired yourself more maybe you would actually be able to sleep at least some hours. You walked to the fridge and started scanning the products, pondering what you could make that would be both nutrtitious and healthy. Knowing your friends they would be mostly eating takeout and junkfood so it would be good if they ate something healthy and homemade. You were sure they woud appreciate it.

You started preparing everything while listening to a true crime podcast your friend recommended earlier. You were getting excited by the second, knowing your gesture would make him happy. The mere thought of seeing him smiling and content filled your heart with joy. Yes, you were whipped for him, but who could be immune to his charms? You felt like you had loved him since forever, you were not sure when you started developing feelings for him, but when you did you fell hard and quickly. Unfortunately for you though, you were a bit of a coward and you chose to stay in the in the comfort zone of friendship, terrified to ruin everything you two had. It was sometimes infuriating, especially when you knew that your feelings toward each other was more than platonic, there was always something more, you knew he felt something for you but neither of you did anything about it. You came in harmony with the fact that you were not initiative person like that, the person who made first moves, okay, but Minho? His lack of action made you withdraw more and it sometimes made you feel like you were deluding yourself.

Sometimes it got tiring tho, waiting and waiting for the other person to at least give you more than a hint that they returned your feelings, something just something! There were even times when you wished he would at least turn you down, so you would have a reason to move on, to stop holding on the moss.

Being this lost in the thought you didn't even realize when your front door opened, you were only startled out of the bones when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. Your first instinct was to grab something to use to defend yourself, but as soon as the familiar scent of bodywash and the hint of cologne hit your nose you quickly realized that your intruder was Minho.

With a hand on your chest and scowl adorning your face you turned in his hold to scold him. "What the hell Minho? What happened to knocking?" You couldn't help but scold, why did he have to be stealthy like a cat?

Any hint of anger died the instant you took his image in. The exhaustion was evident on his figure and he was out of breath, had he been running?, his eyes were bloodshot and he had dark eyebags, he looked paler, and maybe even skinnier too. Had he not been eating at all? You carefully started examining him, worry apparent on your eyes. "Have you been taking care of yourself at all? What the hell Minho? What brought you here? Why aren't you at your house sleeping? Did something happen?.." You were ready to throw hundred more questions but he quickly stopped you by putting his hands on your shoulder, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted.

"Breathe princess." His soft voice made you realize that you vere rambling.

"Oh, okay, sorry." You brought all your attention to him now and Minho decided to flick your head now, you quickly rubbed the place "what was that for you asshole?"

"Where the fuck is your phone?"

" I don't know dude! Probably somewhere here why? "

Minho took a deep breath and glared at you. "I thought I would come by and crash at your place, when I saw that you had your lights on so you were awake. I banged on your door for like 10 minutes, no answer. I call like ten times no answer okay Maybe you fell asleep, but I hear man's voice and something about blood? Thankfully I had your spare key on me or else I would've broken your door now. " You felt guiltier by the second, Minho looked really worried too, you had to lighten up the situation.

"Aww you do love me," you started cooing and you wrapped his frigid body into a hug, Minho made a point to be as much like a stick as he could.

"Why are we friends again?" Minho grumbled but he didn't look annoyed anymore, you grinned and started leading him to a table.

"Because I'm amazing, and you love me and I made your favourite" you dramatically gestured at the food which was now ready and looked good as ever.

"Looks good," he muttered out softly as he lightly patted your hair which he knew you didn't appreciate that much, "Still mad tho."

" How about we cuddle after it? I'll even massage your scalp." You suggest knowing this would crack him up.

And it did he gave you one last side eye but gave up, oriented on food. " Okay deal."

You two ate in silence, not really giving a damn that it was the middle of the night and it was not at all healthy, talking calmly about what you two have been up to while you didn't see each other, with Minho sometimes interrupting both you and himself to say again and again that food was delicious and just what he needed. He told you all about their progress in dance rehearsals, in what parts in choreo he had trouble, of course without spoiling you about the album, loving to tease you as always. Second after second you realized just how much you've missed this, just existing together not having to worry about anything. That's what you loved the most being with him, he made you feel so safe and comfortable, even though you two constantly got on each other's nerves, he was your safe space and you tried your best to be his.

After a while you two were snuggled up in your bed, all washed up and content. You slowly scratching his scalp while he basically laid on top of you, with his head on your tummy. You just loved how silky smooth his hair was, but what you loved the most was sleepy Minho. It was whole another level adorable.

"don't you wanna get under the covers so we can actually sleep?" You hummed out and slightly tugged harder at his hair knowing he liked it. He lazily looked up, eyes half closed, feeling a bit dazed.

"Feel lazy." You couldn't help but smile, "come on babe get up, I promise I won't stop scratching your head." You waited for an answer while he stared at you. You pondered for a second, why was he staring at you like that? You had been addressing each other like couple for a while,(manifesting at it's best) so there was nothing new about that. Was there something on your face? You literally washed it minutes ago. "What is it min?" Minho slightly furrowed his eyebrows and hid his face, "you're beautiful"

You were sure you heard him right but you had to make sure. "What? Couldn't hear you pretty boy." He looked at you with a scowl

"Don't make me say it." You grinned at him.

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?" Minho sighed and got up, he leaned in so that his face was in front of you, his presence intervening with yours, you blinked at him slowly awaiting for him.

"You're beautiful" you felt like you couldn't breathe, he looked so deep into your eyes you felt like your soul was naked, you felt so vulnerable. You smirked deciding to challenge him.

"What are you going to do about it?" You were internally screaming, you saw someone say to do this on internet, you couldn't believe you actually had the balls to say it.

Minho looked at you with dark eyes, his face not giving away what he was thinking, you suddenly had the urge to back down, however before you could act on it he decided to lean in and capture your lips in a kiss.

Your whole world was spinning, was this really happening to you? Was the man you had been pining over for years, your best friend, the man of your dreams kissing you like there was no tomorrow?

His lips felt so soft you felt like you could melt. You quickly put your hands around his neck and tried to return the kiss with the same vigor but you doubted it was possible. Minho was kissing you so passionately it almost felt like he was about to devour you, yet, at the same time, he held you like you were the most fragile thing to ever exist, you've never felt more loved and cherished. And most of all you've never felt more alive than this. You were sure you felt every cell in your body ignite and come alive. If someone were to offer you ability to stop time you would freeze this moment so you could relieve it again and again.

"How come we've never done this?" Minho asked after he broke off the kiss. You were amazed how he was able to talk when you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

" I don't know Min, why haven't you done so before?" You smiled and softly kissed his lips, him chasing after it had you chuckling.

"Must've been a fool, considering I've been in love with you for years" he leaned in again to seal your lips but you willed yourself to break it.

"You love me?"

"I do, I love you." Was it possible to pull a muscle from smiling?

"Say it again" you leaned in now, your fingers carefully fixing his strand of stray hair on his forehead, carefully examining his pretty features, seeing his flushed face had you questioning how would you even look right now.

"I love you" he said your name so tenderly it had you melting yet again. You gave him a wide smile and captured his pretty lips in a kiss again, now feeling shivers run down his body. His hands automatically found their place around your waist, bringing you as close as possible, now you were sat comfortably in his lap, as if it was made just for you. "I'm taking this as a sign you love me back?" God you loved his smile.

"I'll prove just how much I love you all right." You slid your hands to his shoulders and started littering tiny little kisses everywhere possible, his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his jaw his neck while muttering just how much you liked his every little feature, how you loved how kind, sweet, generous, interesting and overall amazing person he was. Of course you used far more adjectives being sure that every positive one could be used to describe him. You wanted to show him just how much you loved and appreciated him.

You only stopped your actions when your lips felt so numb it felt like they would fall off any second now. "Are you convinced now pretty boy?" You asked loving, satisfied with his dazed expression. Flustered Minho was your favorite Minho, you were sure of it. Pink looked so good on him, it was adorable how his ears flushed followed by his cheeks and neck with your actions. He looked beyond yummy. Minho smiled and layed you both on the bed.

" I don't know princess, I think I need some more kisses just to be sure. " Minho shrugged and winked at you mischeviously.

You rolled your eyes but who were you to deny?

After a while you fell asleep, safely cocooned in his arms feeling safe and content, his arms tightly held you close to him as if he was afraid to let you go even for a second, his hold on you not loosening even for a second, despite him being dead asleep, he was so adorable like this. You were sure your heart had never felt so content, he really was your comfort space.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #lee know x reader #skz #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee minho stray kids #lee minho x reader

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cupid-styles · 10 months

Text

sunshine girl*

Harry and Daisy decide to go steady, but not everyone is supportive and Daisy's insecurities are starting to get the best of her.

70s!harry and virgin!fmc | Content warnings: outdated views on virginity and the LGBTQ+ community, pubic hair talk (if it's not your thing that's fine!), drugs, smut!!!! (dirty talk, a little bit of anal)

Word count: 6k (a third part is coming!)

Part one |

"Harry, would you mind not groping my best friend when I'm around?"

A furious blush flowers over Daisy neck at Willow's commentary, but Harry simply rolls his eyes. Five years apart, he's used to his sister's relentless teasing and mocking words, but it's a new phenomenon for Daisy. She's accustomed to Willow always being on her side and treating her with love and kindness, regardless of what she's doing or who she' seeing.

It was safe to say that the newfound romance between Daisy and Harry took some getting used to.

"Willow, would you mind not being such a heartless little brat?" Harry bites, and Willow immediately raises her middle finger to shove in his face.

"I told you guys, I don't care if you're banging or whatever, just don't do it in front of me."

"Enough," Daisy finally speaks up, leaning forward and shrugging Harry's arm off of her shoulders, "I'm gonna stop hanging out with both of you if you keep freaking out on each other every time we're together."

She stands from the worn couch in Harry and Willow's living room, zeroing in on the siblings.

"Willow, you know we're not 'banging' so stop saying that. Harry, try to control yourself a little better. Hug it out and make up by the time I'm back for the shindig after work, alright?"

They both nod their heads, looking like wounded puppies. They're not used to Daisy taking such a stance, but over the past month, her and Harry have been seeing each other more regularly. They immediately agreed that it was important to let Willow know — neither wanted to hide this from her, and while they hadn't expected her to jump for joy, they had anticipated a bit more support.

Instead, when Daisy and Harry were shuttered away in his bedroom, listening to records and making out, Willow treated her like any other one night stand. She flared her nostrils and made impolite comments, always huffing about the way he touched her, even though they weren't even officially dating. Daisy didn't know what they were, but she did know one thing: She was still a virgin, and it gave her insane amounts of anxiety.

It had nothing to do with how Harry treated her. In fact, he handled her with the utmost amount of respect and sweetness. It had only been a few weeks since their first physical encounter, but even then, he'd been so gentle with her — after he made her cum, he guided Daisy's shaky legs to the bathroom and ran a shower for her. She'd felt awkward about taking a shower together, so he sat on the covered toilet seat while they talked about anything and everything. Afterwards, he dressed her in one of his favorite worn-in band shirts, propped her up on his fluffiest pillows, and ran down the street to grab them burgers from his favorite diner.

It was barely two days before Harry stopped into the record store during her shift, asking if he could come over after she was done.

They hadn't gone on any dates yet, but in complete fairness, it was hard to do. Harry worked every day and Daisy often worked closing shifts, which meant she wasn't finished until midnight. On those days, Harry would meet her outside and walk her home. And on the rare occasion when neither of them were working or busy, they were cooped up and tangled between bedsheets, wanting nothing more than to lick into each other's mouths.

Daisy likes Harry. A lot. And she knows that he had admitted to having feelings for her too — it's what caused the whole thing to start, after all — but he hasn't made a move to shift things to relationship territory, and she's too scared to do it. What if he changed his mind? What if he wanted to keep things casual and physical? What if... what if he didn't want to date a virgin?

As she steps into Sam's Records, she sighs and shakes her head, willing the negative thoughts to physically leave her brain. She shoots a small smile at Warren, her coworker who's high out of his mind most times than not. Daisy swears that he emits a permanent scent of weed, seeping from his pores regardless of whether or not he's smoked.

"What's happenin', Daisy?" Warren greets as she slides onto the barstool behind the cash register.

"Not much. How's the shop been so far?"

Warren shrugs his shoulders as he continues shuffling through the shipment box of new records, "Pretty decent, couple of college chicks came in for the new Bee Gees joint. A kid was asking when we're getting the new Styx record, so I'm gonna ask Sam about it later."

Daisy nods and begins to straighten up the front of the store. Warren isn't nearly as organized as she was, but she finds comfort in the routine of piling Rolling Stone magazines, emptying ash trays, and changing out the music. She was putting on Rumours for the billionth time when Warren whistled out, "Dais, lover boy alert!"

She knows before she turns around that Harry's walking into the store. Warren started referring to him as "lover boy" after he saw Harry leaning over the front counter to press a kiss to Daisy's cheek a few weeks back.

Daisy smiles to herself when she sees him, long legs clad in swishy burnt orange bell bottoms and a ringer tee stretched over his chest. A cigarette hangs from his lips but he's quick to remove it when he focuses in on Daisy, a bright grin on his face.

"Hey, pretty lady," he greets as he stubs out his cigarette in one of the ash trays.

"Hey yourself. Didn't I just see you?" She giggles and Harry shrugs his shoulders, his smile shifting to a guilty smirk.

"Yeah, but my sister was there. Wanted to get some time with you without her."

"H..." Daisy sighs, her eyes darting to the front door when the bell jingles, signaling the entrance of new customers. "This whole act is getting old."

"'S not my fault she's miserable no one wants to jive with her."

She sighs and shakes her head. "You have to let it go. In her defense, I was her friend first. Us being... a thing has to be kinda weird for her, don't you think? It's alright for her to bug out a little."

Harry shrugs his shoulders as he lifts his hand to run it through his hair. Daisy had convinced him to let it grow out just a tad bit longer, the ends now meeting the bottoms of his earlobes.

"Whatever, Dais," he mumbles, "You psyched for the joint tonight? It's been a minute since we've hosted."

"It has been, hm?" Daisy agrees, "It'll be groovy as long as you let me play some ABBA."

Harry grins cheekily and lets out a laugh. "Only for my disco queen."

She tries not to blush as he leans over the register to press a quick kiss to her mouth, but not before his lips linger alongside her ear. "Did I mention how totally foxy you look today? My pretty bunny in those tiny denim shorts."

"Harry," she murmurs in fake shock, though the giant smile plastered across her face gives her away. "Go home, you'll get me when I'm done with my shift here, okay?"

"Far out, Dais," Harry says with a grin, stepping away from the counter, "Make sure you walk over with Warren, capiche? You know I don't like you leaving work alone at night."

"10-4, captain."

He chuckles and nods a goodbye to Warren on his way out, a pep in his step as he thinks about spending the night with his sweet little disco girl. Daisy has the same love struck smile on her face.

. . . Sam's Records closes at 11 pm. After that, Daisy has to lock the doors, count the day's earnings, put it in the safe, sweep, and clean up the shop so tomorrow's opening employee — a sweet girl named Penny, who spent the last year following Led Zeppelin on tour — could start the day with ease.

It's helpful to have Warren there, who's quicker at dealing with the cash, and they're able to make it out of the store by 11:45. Daisy's nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet as Warren locks up, feeling as if her heart has strings that are tugging her in the direction of Harry.

"God, you two are really obsessed with each other, huh?"

Daisy sucks her teeth at Warren's comment, though she knows it's all in good fun. He lights a cigarette as they begin the short distance to Harry and Willow's place.

"How did Will take the news that you're banging her brother?"

There it is again — the assumption that her and Harry are just sleeping together. Sure, they do stuff together, but it seems like all anyone thinks is that they're with one another for physical intimacy. And even if that were the case, why hasn't Harry made a move to take her virginity yet?

She swallows roughly at an attempt to push down her insecurities, instead focusing on the cracks in the sidewalk and the thin smoke coming from Warren's cigarette.

"She's warming up to it," Daisy replies, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I think it's been an adjustment, but I can understand why."

"For sure. Willow's always been protective of H, it makes sense that she's not totally digging it."

"It's me, though," she protests, "She knows I won't do anything to hurt him."

Warren shrugs. "Yeah, maybe. But they've always been attached at the hip. Like, when we were in fifth grade, Willow cried almost every day at school and the only person that could calm her down was Harry. They'd call him at the high school and he'd come all the way down every time and the second she saw him, she stopped. They have a special bond, that's all."

Daisy's an only child, so it's hard for her to grasp such a tight knit relationship, but she gets it — she's been living in San Diego alongside the Styles siblings for years now, and she's seen that trust and love firsthand. She doesn't fight Warren on it, instead letting silence take over as they approach the familiar apartment, where Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back in Town" is playing from the interior.

"Looks like Harry still has dibs on the tunes," Warren smirks, stomping out his dead cigarette.

There are a few familiar faces out on the deck, all of who are currently taking smoke breaks. Daisy flashes them a friendly smile and Warren stays behind, likely to make a dent in the stash of drugs he brought in his bag. Nevertheless, she trucks on through the thick smoke enveloping the apartment — as usual, Willow and Harry never keep things casual when they host a party.

The place is flooded with people and it seems like there's drugs and booze everywhere: Girls are dancing in the living room over people snorting lines off the coffee table and the town's Dead Heads are perched on the couch, pupils as large as dinner plates. She doesn't care much for the atmosphere, though she does recognize Mitch, one of Harry's co-workers, in the corner with his girlfriend Sarah, each with cans of Bud Light in their hands.

Daisy is about to make her way over to them when Harry suddenly appears, a large grin plastered across his face when he zeroes in on her.

"Dais!" he exclaims, ambling forward to wrap his arms around her form. She giggles at his wide smile, her insides melting at his excitement to see her. "You made it."

"Of course I did, silly," Daisy laughs, pulling back slightly. He keeps an arm around her waist so their chests are flush against one another, and she notices the glazed over twinkle in his eyes; a true Harry identifier that he'd been hitting the bong in her absence. "Got this shindig started without me, did you?"

"Please, you know my night's never complete without my sunshine girl."

She grins so hard her cheeks ache and he leans forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. "Interested in a little grass, lady love?"

"Sure," Daisy nods, "Where's your sis, though? Wanna make sure I say hey before we spark up."

Harry shrugs his shoulders as his grasp on Daisy's form relaxes. "Dunno. Haven't seen her in a bit."

She sighs and nods, forcing a small smile onto her lips. "Head on over to your fire escape and I'll meet you there in a tick, 'kay? I just wanna find Willow."

She can tell that he's not thrilled by this, but maybe it's the weed, or even her attempt at scolding him from earlier. Whatever it is, he nods, compliant in her ask, and gives her hand a small squeeze before scampering off in the direction of his locked bedroom.

Daisy heads for the kitchen first to grab a beer, knowing she'll need a little bit of liquid courage to meander through the crowded party looking for her best friend. There's a couple making out; one cornering the other, who sits atop the kitchen counter, and Daisy makes a mental note to tell Harry to wipe it down tomorrow once they're done nursing their hangovers.

With a can of Miller in hand, she scopes the small apartment. Normally, Willow and Daisy are side-by-side at these things, splitting joints and schmoozing with strangers. Willow is naturally more extroverted than her; she's always suggesting they play Spin The Bottle or 7 Minutes in Heaven with their newfound friends while Daisy finds a nervous excuse to refuse. She's grateful that she has Harry now and doesn't have to sit there, watching Willow be more courageous than her.

Even on Daisy's tippy toes, the brunette is nowhere to be found. She rolls her lips into her mouth as she decides to check the bathroom, but all she finds is a line of girls actually trying to use it. She meanders to Willow's bedroom, which is always locked during parties, but gives it a try anyway. She gently raps her knuckles against the wood, pressing an ear to it.

"Will? You in there?"

She doesn't think she hears any movement so she tries again, but she can't be sure with David Bowie's loud voice crooning through the apartment. She goes to knock a third time, but the door is ripped open before her hand makes contact.

"What?" Willow hisses out before she realizes it's Daisy. Her eyes widen and she quickly closes the door a smidge, blocking Daisy from looking inside.

"I was looking for you," Daisy says slowly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I just got here and you weren't out there..."

"Um, yeah. Migraine. Sorry."

Willow's being weird, and not just in the weird "I-don't-like-you-being-with-my-brother" way she's been lately. The best friends never have secrets or hide things from each other, but something about this feels like uncharted territory.

"Are you alright?" Daisy asks softly as she reaches out to gently touch her elbow, "Do you need water, or company?"

"I'm fine," Willow quips, "I'm just not into all this tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Daisy doesn't get a chance to ask another question before Willow narrowly slides behind the door, shutting and locking it in a flash. Her heart tugs at the girl. Her gut says that something is off, but Willow's never lied to her before, and she doesn't even want to think that's a possibility. She chooses to believe her and instead makes the short trek to Harry's room, doing their secret knock — three slow raps followed by two quick ones — to let him know that she's here.

Over the past few weeks, Harry's room has become a safe space for her, and she physically feels her worries melt away when he opens the door and pulls her inside. She giggles when he presses her up against the now-locked door, placing his hands on either side of her head to cage her in.

"I haven't had you to myself all day, sunshine." He mutters, leaning forward to gently nip at the skin below her jaw.

"You're insatiable." Daisy mumbles, leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck. She plays at the loose curls gathering there, soft and silky from the shower he took this afternoon while she laid in his bed, reading a Judy Blume book.

"'m not. Just obsessed with you."

Her stomach flutters as their lips make contact. The kiss feels like home — soft and sweet as their mouths meld together, quickly picking up pace as eager tongues dance for dominance. Harry always wins, despite a solid fight put up on Daisy's end.

She puts her hand to his chest and stops them before they get too carried away, though half of her mind drifts off to the orgasm he gave her last night; two of his fingers steadily pumping into her and stroking at the sensitive spot inside, his dirty mouth whispering promises of pleasure into her ear.

"Willow was locked away in her room. She was acting kinda weird... did you guys have a fight before this?"

Harry's lips are spit-swollen and the color of a muted cherry red as he shakes his head. "No, she was pretty jazzed about tonight. We split half a bottle of wine and watched the news together."

"Oh," Daisy says softly, insecurity quickly creeping into her brain.

"I'm sure it had nothing to do with you, bunny. She might've not been feelin' well or something, don't get it twisted in that pretty head."

She nods, convincing herself to believe him. He knew her better than anyone else, and Willow did say she had a migraine. She breathes deeply and allows herself to fall into Harry's embrace, the familiar scent of his cologne, woody and sweet, instantly soothing her.

"C'mon, let's go sit out on the fire escape."

Harry tugs at her hand and she follows him, pliant in his suggestion. They climb out the window and onto the grated structure. It's early September but the San Diego air is still thick with humidity, coating Daisy's exposed legs and arms. She slightly regrets picking out a suede mini skirt this morning, but when she grabbed it, she remembered that it was one of Harry's favorites on her.

It's quiet between them as Harry digs in his pocket for a joint and his lighter. The party sounds miles away now, and Daisy leans her elbows on the steel banister, taking in the inky night sky. Out here, it really did just feel like her and Harry were the only ones who matter.

Harry sparks up and takes a deep drag before passing it to Daisy. She readily accepts it and sticks it between her lips, inhaling with fluttered eyes. She can feel Harry watching her but all she cares about is getting to the relaxed, floaty state he was already in.

"You're so pretty."

"You're so high." She smiles lazily and opens her eyes, handing it back to Harry.

"Maybe, yeah," he smirks, "But I think you're a stunner regardless of how stoned I am."

Daisy shakes her head and he steps closer to her form, placing a hand on her hip. "Lemme smoke you up, sunshine," he mumbles, and she nods. They do this every time — the first time they smoked together, he found out mellow weed highs made her even more sensitive to his touch, and now, he couldn't help putting his hands all over her.

Harry takes a deep inhale of the joint, holds it, and pulls Daisy closer. Their chests are flush against one other as he fits himself between her parted legs, a hand on her hip to keep her in place. She parts her lips just enough for the smoke to form a steady stream from his mouth to hers as he exhales, sealing it with a firm kiss.

As soon as they meet, everything in her body is screaming for him. She needs to touch him, she needs to feel him, she needs to be connected to him.

Quickly, slow kisses intertwine with undertones of want, and it's apparent that Daisy is just as needy as ever, even with mutual orgasms provided on a near-daily basis. Harry wants to tease her for it, but he's a little too far gone now, too; seeing her in the late summer night, sticky skin, a mini skirt, and a poor excuse for a lace top covering her upper body. The warm lust between them is palpable as his tongue pokes around the inside of her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip and squeezing her side with a familiar desperation. She's panting, struggling to keep up, but trying her absolute hardest not to get left in the dust.

"Can I make you feel good, bunny?" Harry breathes into her mouth, trailing his fingertips along her midriff and dancing along the waistband of her skirt. She's ready to nod and provide consent until the big storm cloud of insecurity suddenly overtakes her thoughts, self-deprecating insults about her virginity status becoming the only thing she can focus on.

"Dais?" Harry backs away just slightly, enough to take in her facial expression. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to—"

Daisy refuses to have another bad thought as she cuts him off and mashes their lips together, messy and wet. Her trembling hands find the bottom of his tee shirt; a woman on a defined mission as she pulls the fabric upwards, her palms pressed against his stomach. She goes to peel the shirt off him when he breaks their kiss again, much to her dismay.

"Hey, what gives?" Harry asks softly, leaning down a bit so they're eye level, "Not that I don't love this, but you're moving mighty quick here, sunshine girl."

She resists the urge to huff in frustration, instead letting his shirt fall back down to his hips. "I just... want you, H. You dig?"

Harry chuckles, his eyes crinkling at her attempt at casual sex talk. "Yeah, I dig, but I thought we established that ages ago."

"Well, I wanna like... you know, pop my cherry tonight."

His eyes widen and his hands drop from Daisy's form. He's never heard her refer to her virginity in such a crass way, even if it's the slang everyone uses. Besides the fact, he's shocked she suddenly wants to lose it at a party with nearly 30 people on the other side of the door.

"Dais," Harry's eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, "You deserve more than just 'popping your cherry.' Are you spaced out or something?"

She shakes her head quickly, determined to get what she wants.

"No. I wanna lose it tonight, I'm tired of being a virgin and you haven't made any moves to take it so if you don't want to, it's groovy—"

"What on earth are you on about?" Harry questions, "Why wouldn't I wanna sleep with you? I thought— well maybe I was misinterpreting things but I thought we were, like, going steady, I know I haven't asked or anything but I was preparing to. Honest."

Daisy's face warms at Harry's admittance. She blinks her eyes a few times as she processes his words, her bottom lip dropping open. "I'm... I just thought you've been with so many people, maybe you didn't want the responsibility of being with someone who... hasn't, y'know?"

Harry sighs and nods his head understandingly. Stubbing the joint out on the cool banister of the fire escape, he reaches forward to envelop her form in a tight hug. Suddenly, her senses are invaded by Harry, and she basks in the feel of his arms around her and his comforting scent.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more upfront about what I wanted," Harry mumbles into her hair, "But I do want you to be my girl. As for the whole virginity thing... I never wanted to pressure you. You never seemed like you were in a rush to lose it, and I wanted us to build up to it, I guess. Make sure you were comfortable before we did it. But you'd be totally out of your mind to think I had no interest in doing that with you, baby."

"I wanna be your girl," Daisy murmurs before pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. "And I want you to be my first. I've never felt more comfortable with another person before."

"Yeah?" Harry asks with a teasing smirk, ducking down to look at her, "You're my girl, then. I will be your first, but not tonight. You deserve so much more than a rendezvous at a party, silly girl."

"Shush," Daisy says, growing bashful at his words. "Soon, though?"

Harry chuckles and nods. "Yeah, sunshine. Soon."

. . .

Harry and Daisy spend the rest of the night in his bedroom, high off the joint they smoked and their newly established relationship.

Even when Harry's tuckered out, fast asleep next to her in bed while the party simmers outside, leaving only the too-drunk and quiet trippers behind, Daisy can't believe it. She keeps replaying the conversation in her brain, amazed that he somehow likes her enough to be her boyfriend. She feels so special.

And while his soft snores offer a comfortable rhythmic sound, it's not enough for Daisy to ignore her parched throat. Carefully, she untangles herself from the sheets and tiptoes out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. She's prepared to make a quick trek to the kitchen when she sees Willow emerge from her own bedroom, followed by a blonde girl Daisy faintly recognizes from the neighborhood. She goes to say hi, relieved that Willow may be feeling a little better, but the words get stuck in her throat when the blonde grasps at Willow's hand, spinning her to press a kiss to her lips.

Willow doesn't notice Daisy standing there with wide eyes. She doesn't know what this implies, if Willow's gay or straight or whatever, and she doesn't care. She knows not everyone is understanding and welcoming in that way, and it pains her to think that her best friend would hide such a big secret from her, or receive hatred for the person she likes. She's seen her fair share of same sex hookups at the disco, where men or women try to be together in secret, and she's never thought too much about it. Not until right now, when she sees her smacking lips with another girl right in front of her.

Daisy doesn't know what to say, so she doesn't say anything. Instead, she quickly turns on her heel and goes back to Harry's room, locking it quietly. With a spinning head, she doesn't even notice that he's awake and watching her, his eyes puffy with sleep.

"Y'alright?"

She nearly jumps at the sound of the voice but forces a tight smile on her lips. She doesn't want to — no, she's refusing — to reveal this information to Harry. It's not her secret to tell, if there's anything even to it.

"Yeah. I needed a drink, I didn't know you were up."

Harry hums and stretches his arms out, propping himself up against the mess of pillows behind him. "Come back to bed?"

Her heart flutters at his request, adoring the way the words sound leaving his mouth. Without a second thought, she's climbing back into the cotton wonderland of sheets and pillows, breathing in his scent as he wraps his arms around her body, pulling her closer.

Tangling their legs together, Daisy presses her head to his chest. She places a hand to his stomach and feels his slow breathing. They're quiet for a little bit and she assumes he's fallen back asleep until she feels his length hardening beneath her thigh. She swallows, biting her lip as she contemplates mentioning it.

"Sorry," Harry eventually mumbles out, pressing a kiss to her hair, "Just ignore it, it'll go away on its own."

"We're not even doing anything." Daisy teases, lifting her head to press her chin into his chest. He places his hand at the back of her head and smiles.

"You're in my shirt and a tiny little pair of panties, cuddling me, looking adorable as shit. You get me going regardless of whether or not we're doing anything."

"You like when I wear your clothes?" she presses, sitting up slightly to balance on her knees. Slowly, she splits her thighs to straddle his waist, fitting her core on his stomach.

"Of course," Harry mutters, tugging at his own hair, "You look smokin' in anything, but something about you wearing my shirts..." his fingers dance over the skin of her thigh, lifting up the worn fabric of his Peter Gabriel tee. He zeroes in on the pale pink underwear covering her modesty and he breathes out, feeling his briefs constrict his plumping cock even more.

"And what about these?" she asks, dipping her fingers underneath the elastic waistband of her underwear. "Do you prefer me wearing them? Or do you like when you can see everything?"

"Depends. Think this little pussy is gorgeous regardless... but I especially love when you get so worked up for me that you're dripping in your panties, getting them all sticky with the sweetest little wet spot," he mumbles, thumbing over her clit through the material. "Looks so incredible, I just wanna bury my tongue in you until you can't take it anymore."

"Oh," Daisy breathes out, bucking her hips in a failed attempt for more friction between her legs. Harry smirks as her eyes begin to close. He pauses his movements and lifts his thumb to his mouth, coating it in spit before returning to his original movements, forming light circles through her underwear.

"I bet you'd like that, hm?" He pushes, applying more pressure to the bundle of nerves, "You'd have to push me away. Can never get enough of the way you taste, especially when you start squirting... it's the hottest thing I've ever seen, bunny."

"More," Daisy whimpers, taking a shaky hand down to her lower half. She moves the strip of fabric covering her pussy to the side, revealing her plump, glistening lips. She parts them carefully, forming a V with her fingers, her pearly clit begging for attention.

"Take 'em off," Harry instructs, breathing shallowly as he takes in the appearance of her pussy. When they first started being physical together, she was embarrassed by her pubic hair, explaining that she knew fully grown bushes were "in" but she wasn't sure what she liked. She was nervous about it and wanted to please Harry, who simply encouraged her to experiment with different styles and find whatever made her feel the best. It was 1976 after all, and he was exhausted by anti-feminist rhetoric that would ever make his girl feel bad.

Lately, Daisy settled for a trimmed bush above her lips. It looked manicured and neat, and she discovered both her and Harry loved having enough hair there for him to tug on when he was going down on her. He hadn't yet told her that he was also obsessed with the way her juices stuck around, making her even wetter.

Once Daisy strips her modesty of her underwear, anything's fair game. Harry uses one of hands to firmly grab her ass as he situates her over his brief-covered cock, making her stomach twist with nerves.

"Not gonna put it in, sunshine," he mumbles, his length twitching at the sight of her pussy spread open over his underwear, "Just wanna grind with you a little, alright? Make us both feel really good."

Daisy nods eagerly, rolling her hips against his. She whimpers at the sensation that offers a semblance of the friction she'd been desperately searching for. He pulls his cock out of his briefs and pushes it between her lips, making them both groan out.

"There you go," Harry encourages as he gently bucks upwards to meet her motions, shifting his cock against her clit, "Show me you deserve to cum on my cock. Show me how much you want me to fuck this tight little pussy."

Daisy lets her head lull to the side, her eyes squeezed shut at his dirty words. They always get her impossibly close to coming, feeling as if the pleasure-filled feelings are finally going to bubble over and spill.

They're moving in sync with one another, her hands flat on his chest, moaning at their closeness. It feels so good, and she wants to tell him to slip his cock in, to fill her up and fuck her until she can't remember her own name, but she knows he won't; instead uttering something about it not being the right moment.

"Shit, I'm close," Daisy mumbles out through swollen lips. Her right hand is moving to her pussy to rub her clit in small circles and Harry's jaw falls slack as he watches her. He gives her hip a squeeze and folds his legs at the knee, pushing her down to her tummy so their chest to chest.

"Know my dirty girl needs a bit more to cum, hm?" The question is rhetorical but she nods helplessly anyway, shuttering beneath his grasp. He trails daft fingers to her backside and grabs one of her ass cheeks so her tighter hole is exposed. She groans into his skin but he removes his hand, giving her butt a firm slap.

"Shush, sweetness." Harry instructs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Before Daisy has a chance to whine, he's back to circling the tight rim of muscles, reaching downward to collect some of her dripping arousal from her inner thighs. Daisy can barely focus on all of the different sensations, and once he presses the tip of his thumb into her ass, she's a goner.

"Fuck, Harry—" she moans as her holes pulsate, her asshole squeezing Harry's finger.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, using his other hand to grip her hip, keeping her firmly in place. Seeing and listening to Daisy cum is enough to get him there — his own personal wet dream, he swears — and it's only a few moments after her orgasm has passed that he's spitting out a heavy load from his cock, covering their bellies with his warm cum.

Simultaneously, their bodies come to a stop, and the only sound is their choppy breathing. Gently, he pulls his finger out of her, giving her thigh a small squeeze. He feels that she's slowly starting to go lax, and he wants to clean her up before they go back to sleep.

"Up, sunshine," Harry mumbles against the shell of her ear, "Need to get you clean."

Daisy nods, slowly rising from his chest. She glances down to see the mess they've made and bites her lip, feeling the familiar stirring in her core again.

"And you call me insatiable," Harry snickers, making her roll her eyes. She climbs off of him with sore thighs and he gets up, grabbing a dirty tee shirt to clean them up.

She's quiet and missing the usual glow she has post-orgasm, making his stomach twist slightly. "Everything alright?" He asks, moving the soft fabric between her legs to wipe up her arousal.

Daisy hums, though it's not much of an answer. The second they reached their peaks, images of Willow kissing that girl re-entered her brain. She feels shitty for using Harry as a distraction from what was bothering her to begin with.

"Was... were you comfortable with all that?" Harry presses, and it's only then that it dawns on her that he thinks he's the problem. With wide eyes she nods her head, grabbing her — his — tee-shirt from earlier, sliding it over her body.

"It was amazing, H," Daisy answers, crawling on her knees to reach where he's standing over the bed. She shuffles forward and presses a kiss to his lips, wishing that she could tell him what she saw. "Let's get some more rest. Please?"

And Harry can hardly deny her, especially when she looks so tired and fucked out. He pulls on a clean pair of briefs and climbs back into the bed, taking his position as the big spoon. His body wraps effortlessly around hers, like two puzzle pieces begging to be clicked together.

"Night, Dais." He mumbles, pecking her shoulder.

"G'night, Harry."

Part three | Series masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles fan fic #fanfic #harrys house #harry styles writing #harry styles concept

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koiiiiijiii · 3 months

Text

windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 2)

warnings : smut part with wooin but i tried to make it more sensual then sexy, prob fluffiest stuff i ever wrote, as usual it might be ooc, not proofed read on your own risk!!)🧣💞🦢

thank you all guys for 287 followers!!(i wrote when it was 260!!) i hope my works makes your day a lil bit better and set some mood. i really appreciate all likes, reposts and especially!! comments and replies, in love with @sugardollie-907 @hjunsjoy @cozyunderworld @dialoguestetatet and wildylisa but idk why i can’t tag((( and so so many other people who comment (but i swear this holy five lives rent free in my comment section and it such a blessing🙏🏻)

thank you to every-everyone who supporting me, my works, it’s so gratifying to come here and see all notifications about your feedbacks!! also want to say thanks to all wb authors who ever posted and posting!! another source of motivation and inspiration🫵🏻😌💋💯🎀

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

vinny - a friend’s sister. you were definetely dom's or jay's sister, and vinny was so annoyed by you in the first place. not because of your personality or you annoyed him directly, but you were that "genious" in your sport, and vinny unitentionally compared you to jay jo, who were gifted with talent from birth. he was angry or annoyed to the point of goosebumps, he didn't even understand exactly what he was feeling, but he understood that this was a very strong storm of emotions and he was fixated on you. honestly? when your brother watches your competitions or casually tells about your successes, Vinny records it in his memory and will congratulate you later(dom as an older brother will 100% hype you up, fight me. he would show his phone to hummingbird crew with tearing puppy eyes “look, my lil gremlin winning those competition of hers”🥹🥹)Vinny would rather die by biting his neck than admit his feelings to someone, so it happens accidentally, maybe your chat went further than congratulating each other on winning competitions or your calls to him to find out where your brother is hanging around today. but because you were tired after the competition, you fell asleep leaving the chat open and not responding to his messages, leaving him on read. not to say that Vinny was offended by you, he just snapped at you for 3 days in a row, refusing to respond to messages. you had to take the situation into your own hands and hold his hand after another training and talk. “ta hell you want?” he said, frowning down at you. “just to talk and clearly” - you explained the situation to him and told him why you didn't answer, but since Vinny didn't know how to apologize and he had certain trust issues, it turned into another skirmish. it was evening and it was unnoticeable how the clouds thickened and the rain began to fall, but it didn't seem to bother two of you much because you were standing and yelling at each other for a reason you both didn't understand. Vinny's patience had always been zero, but now it seemed as if he was on the verge of reaching another stage of rabies. while you were shouting at him that you didn't understand why he started this quarrel at all, he just exhaled irritably and unknowingly blurted out “FUCK! because i was worried about you!!” as the argument reached its peak, Vinny's frustration peaked, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and apprehension. yet, amidst the chaos of their exchange, a surge of emotion overcame him, compelling him to act on the impulse he'd long suppressed. with a sudden surge of courage, Vinny closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. eyes met, mirroring the intensity of emotions, as Vinny leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. the rain continued to fall, its gentle rhythm enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. Vinny’s body pressed to yours, rain-soaked and trembling, as the warmth of the spring evening mingled with the cool touch of the rain. in that moment, amidst the soft glow of the night lights and the soothing patter of raindrops, time seemed to stand still. the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two bodies locked in a passionate embrace. as your lips parted, a sense of relief washed over, breaths mingling with the cool night air as you savored the sweetness of the moment. in the gentle caress of the rain and the warmth of each other's touch, you found solace, knowing that despite the storm raging around two of you, they were anchored in the calm of their love. as you kissed beneath the spring evening sky, a sense of peace washed over them, the tension of their argument melting away with each tender caress. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the comforting glow of city lights, they found solace in each other's arms, their love renewed and strengthened by the storm they weathered together.

wooin - fake relationship. he commited it in the first place. since his work wasn’t permanent and he was constantly on the move, hanging here and there, Wooin thought it would be nice to have something permanent in his life. he needed excuse to tell his family why he can’t visit them on weekends - his girlfriend doesn’t feel well. them asking him all this “start a family” questions? sorry, y/n isn’t ready yet. some unforeseen situations? oh, y/n can be his trusted person. something didn't go according to plan? he can rely on y/n, if it isn’t something too difficult or dangerous. as a substitute he will gift you something, or will took you somewhere, thanking you for being his backup. genuinely it wasn’t something like friends with benefits, no, you two clearly share a bond, but it was something on the edge, as everybody thought you were dating. and in fact all this acts, you being his backup, him giving you small gifts, taking you on dates, sharing a bed - it all feels more like a relationship. but you never had this conversation, after another hot sex you could fall asleep together, for sure, but in the morning one of you definitely woke up in an empty bed. of course, it also happened that you woke up together, but in the morning Wooin was simply unbearable, and more often it ended with too caustic jokes. and it was always on the edge, you weren't in a relationship, you weren't friends, you weren't strangers, you were all together at once. at some point, it started to get exhausting. you noticed it first, but Wooin started talking about it first... well not actually talk, but mutter in the crook of your neck… today’s sex was different, the encounter was filled with a blend of sensuality and intensity, both of you asserting your desires while maintaining a balance of power. you bite each other, when it feels like too much, but immediately kissing and licking bite place, each of you tried to get leading role while another didn’t let it happen. today, Wooin's approach was different - not sloppy, fast and erratically, but slower, more deliberate, his touch gentle yet his thrusts firm. you were suffocating in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was drowning in the smell of your hair, your moans, how you trembled slightly from his hands on your chest, hips and neck. Wooin burrowed his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and sniffing your scent. it was intoxicating, that feeling when you were next to him, when his hands slid over your body, your soft sobs, how the emotions on your pretty face changed depending on his pace. now, with his whole body pressed against you from behind, one hand holding your hip, and the other between your head and the pillow, his palm rested on your collarbones. while he was slowly sinking into you, and you were smiling and almost purring with pleasure, he caught himself thinking that he liked your smile. he likes to spend time with you, he likes to use an excuse in front of his parents and call you his girlfriend. his. Wooin liked the idea of you being his. he liked you. along with these thoughts, his pace increased, now he was digging his fingers into your thigh, and the other hand slid to your breast, squeezing it a little harder. you were both lost in your pleasure as you moaned louder and louder, he pressed his nose harder into your neck, whispering something that you couldn't make out. at one moment, he lifted his head, biting your earlobe, and pulling it slightly towards him, in a burst of emotion, he whispered "i like you"*

kwon - stranger to lovers/soulmetes - for the first time it seemed like someone corsed you. you moved to new flat in different district of Seul and now it was time to transport your stuff from old flat. everything started when you recieved message from a men who drove the car with your stuff, saying that he is stuck on a street because there are some stupid cycling competition and usual road is closed. amazing, you already were so stressed and here some cycling competition, but thankfully in the evening you finally recieved your stuff, mostly some boxes, small and big. when you were about to pick another heavy box you felt that it seemed strangely light. when you rise your eyes you saw a young man around your age. you thanked him for helping and he turned out to be almost your neighbor, one floor above and to the left of your neighbor's wall. next time you saw Kwon Hyeok in evelator…and you two were stuck there…for 3 hours…you were about to meet with your friends and, as you learned later, he was about to pick something to eat in nearest market. week later you met him in random cafe, where you decided to have a dinner alone, the owner of the cafe came up to you, saying that all the seats are occupied, but since you are alone, there was an empty place, behind the bar, just next to a guy your age (the old man grinned and has obviously already married you two in his head) so when you sat down carefully and apologized for the intrusion, you recognized that it was Kwon. you ordered your food and few drinks, and had a nice time together. and after a month of such unexpected encounters, you began to suspect 2 things - either fate brings you together, or he is a stalker. thankfully when you ran into each other again in the same cafe and drank a lot more this time, you admitted that you suspected him, and he, in turn, thought the same - that you were weird stalker girl who followed him around, and in that evening you laughed together from many things. when it was time to leave he understood that you were so drunk that you couldn’t even stand straight, so he took you by the elbow, hugged you with his free hand a little bit higher than your waist and led you home. along the way, of course, you mumbled something about how you like one handsome boy and he seemed like not paying attention to you and probably not even interested and why you're still alone…and then, under the soft glow of streetlights, amidst the hushed whispers of the night, it happened. in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal, your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing the bond that had been silently growing between you. in that stolen moment, amid the chaos of the city, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that fate had finally brought you together as more than just strangers in passing.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

* i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to finish this part with wooin, as it already feels too ooc, it was more self inserted, like i was inspired by my latest situationship, bc i was in fucking same situation(it didn’t end well) , and it’s still kinda my roman empire, so i leave space for your imagination… if u don’t mind of course…🥹

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revasserium · 8 months

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to the lighthouse - Zoro and what guides him home

10. to the lighthouse

zoro; 2,320 words, opla!zoro, the fluffiest of fluff, straw hat!reader, established relationship

summary: you just wanted to buy some apples; now complete with a prequel right here

a/n: aggressively adorable, truly -- i have no excuse for this okay. i'm just so freakishly whipped for opla!zoro pls dont look at at me

zoro has never been great shakes at directions (navigation has always been more nami’s thing, and he knows his place in the world), but he’s never needed a compass to find his way home. once, he might have. once, he would’ve wandered and wondered forever and ever, believing the great unknowns of the world to be his compass rose, the horizon his true north, but not anymore. because you see, he’s grown since then — he’s gotten bigger, stronger, more ruthless, more deadly. but he’s gotten smarter too… if only just by a little bit.

he’s learned since then that home doesn’t have to be a place, that it can just as easily be a person.

or, in his case, that it could be both.

“warn me, the next time you plan on getting kidnapped for ransom, would’ya?”

there’s blood on his headband and blood on his shoes, but he can’t quite keep his voice as gruff as he’d like, even as he hauls you bodily onto the deck of the going merry, scowling as you kick your feet in a feeble attempt to get him to let you go.

“it’s not like i was trying to get kidnapped! i was getting apples from the market!”

“yeah, in broad daylight, in a giant port town where all our faces are plastered across wanted posters! even i could’ve told you that’s a bad idea.”

you yelp as he dumps you unceremoniously onto the kitchen’s large wooden table, mumbling to himself as he beings to rummage through the drawers for a first aide kit, slamming cupboards as he goes.

you fold your arms, unable to stop the grin from tugging at your lips.

“did you… just call yourself dumb?”

zoro whirls around, color blotching into his cheeks as he glares, “i — f — you know what i mean!”

he whips back around and slams a drawer so hard the handle breaks; he swears even as you start to laugh, wincing and clutching at your stomach, the skin of your side tender and growing more so by the minute.

“o-ow! don’t make me laugh! it hurts!”

“serves you right… stupid… parading around… not paying attention…”

he slams the first aid kit onto the table next to you, roughly swatting your hand out of the way as he gingerly lifts your shirt to inspect the damage.

“i’m fine —”

“you’re not fine, and quit squirming. i’m not chopper so if i fuck up, it’s your fault.”

you press your lips and hold still, hissing as he carefully dabs at a rather large gash between two of your ribs.

“and i wasn’t parading… i mean, my face isn’t on a wanted poster yet so…”

zoro spares you a single look before going back to his work, “yeah. yet.”

you deflate, inching forward slightly to make his job a bit easier as he continues to clean your wound, his touch now so much gentler than anyone might give him credit for. you watch him with soft eyes, trail the tracks of his fingers as he fumbles with the alcohol soaked cotton pad, daubing at the raw red of your skin. you wondered if anyone who hunted him from his picture on a wanted poster would recognize him now, his cheeks flushed, his brows lightly furrowed, his eyes sharp and steady as tried his best not to hurt you.

“there,” he says, his voice short and rough as he presses his palm over a strip of clean gauze, sealing it in place. he pulls back to admire his handiwork, looking as pleased as he might’ve been if he’d just decapitated an entire infantry’s worth of men without drawing a single sword.

you gingerly tug your shirt back down, your skin feeling much warmer at the places where he’d touched, his palm-print burning like a brand along the expanse of your ribs. you gulp and clear your throat.

“sorry… i — i didn’t mean to.”

“save it,” and then, when you wince at his tone, zoro sighs, scratching at the back of his neck as he leans up against the table next to you, “i know you didn’t. i was just…”

and it’s his turn to pause, to clear his throat and look away.

“sanji… sanji wanted apples for the curry he’s making tonight,” you say, kicking your feet, your eyes trained on the tips of your shoes as they swing up and down in succession — right, left, right, left, right —

“apples in curry? ew.”

“he said they’re the secret ingredient! and — apparently, the better the apples, the better the curry, and it’s — well, it’s fall so they’re in season right now, and nami said this island is known for their apple orchards so i thought — maybe if i went to the market on the first day i’d be able to snag the best ones —”

he cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing passed your surprised squeak before your eyes flutter shut, your lashes tickling his cheeks like moth wings. you can almost taste his satisfied smirk when your fingers curl into the front of his shirt to tug him closer.

“you’re rambling… you only do that when you’re nervous.”

you bite your lip but zoro presses his thumb to your chin, tilting your head up till he meets your eyes.

“why’re you nervous?”

“i — i’m not —”

“hm. you’ve always been a shit liar.”

you try to tug your head away from him but his grip is strong, his other hand casually resting below your waist, his fingers pressing into the soft of your hips, holding you in place.

“it’s… nothing…” but he’s right. you have always been a terrible liar, even worse to the people who know you. and god does zoro know you.

zoro’s grin goes wolfish as he cocks his head, eyeing you as a hunter might his prey, “pretty little liar though… i gotta say,” he drags his thumb along the bottom of your lip, pushing against the plush of your mouth, his eyes going dark as he watches the way your breath hitches.

“but even pretty little liars deserve to be punished, don’t they?” he leans in, breath hot by your ear, his words chasing shivers up and down your spine. you fight back a whimper, knowing that if he were truly to pin you there, there’d be nothing you could do to escape him.

“unless… you wanna tell me the truth?”

you let out a shuddering breath before sighing.

“w-we — we wanted to — to throw you a birthday party.”

zoro pauses, his darkened gaze going wide for a second before he pulls back, visibly confused.

“b…birthday? uh — that’s not till november —”

“i know but… who knows if we’ll be docked by then, and… your favorite season is autumn so…” you shrug, voice small even as you try to duck and hide the blush rushing up into your cheeks.

“so… you went to get apples… for my not-birthday birthday dinner?”

“i mean — your favorite food is rice and… curry goes the best with rice, right?”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, his hand falling to press against your other hip. but before he can say anything else, sanji’s voice echoes in from just beyond the door before it swings open to reveal sanji, with his arms full of groceries and usopp close behind him, nearly running into sanji’s back as he comes to an abrupt stop at the sight before him.

“darling, did you manage to get those apples? y’know if we’re really gonna make this curry, it’ll have to stew for a good three or so hours — oh — my apologies… was i interrupting something? decide to give the lucky man an amuse bouche before his main course tonight, yeah?”

you groan and try to tug away but zoro merely quirks an eyebrow, seemingly unphased.

“why’re you putting apples into perfectly good curry?”

at this, sanji rolls his eyes and hoists the groceries on to the kitchen table next to you, casting zoro a scathing look.

“look man, i don’t question your sword-swinging and you don’t question my cooking, alright? now, if you’re really thirsting to know — the sweetness in the apples gives texture to the curry as it stews, and that’s what makes it so damn delicious when you pair it with the rice, got it?”

zoro scoffs, his hands still planted firmly on either side of your hips even as sanji starts to pull out all the varied ingredients for the meal. behind him, usopp is juggling an impressive number of liquor bottles as he tries to slot them into the drinks rack.

“yeah. we’ll see,” and with a single arm, zoro hoists you from the table and sets you down on the ground next to him, guiding you from the kitchens even as sanji shoots you a salacious wink.

“you’ll be singin’ to a different tune when you’ve had your first taste, moss-head!”

zoro doesn’t grace that with a response, steering you out of the kitchens before yelling for usopp to toss him a bottle of something good over his shoulder.

later that night, when the party is in full swing, he finds you by the carved white railings at the darkened head of the ship, eyes trained on the far horizon. behind you both, luffy is standing on a barrel, belting some old drinking song while nami laughs and sanji swings chopper in a strange, uncoordinated two-step.

“hey,” he says, bumping your shoulder with his.

“oh! hey…” you cast him a smile as he takes another swig from his nearly empty glass.

“why aren’t you —” he jerks his head back towards the swinging, dancing, laughing crew.

you bite back a smile, shrugging, “i was just… thinking.”

“oh. well, that’s not good.”

you slam your shoulder into his but he barely moves, chuckling.

“today… when you saved me from those kidnappers… how’dyou know where to find me?”

you turn to look at him, and for a second, the question almost catches him off guard. he stares at you, as if unsure himself how to answer before he grins, his eyes slipping from you out towards the darkness beyond as behind you both, sanji starts in on a showtune in a warbled language neither of you can understand.

“actually, ‘m not sure… i just… had a feeling.”

you blink, “you… had a feeling?”

“yeah like… y’know when uh — turtles and stuff always know how to get back to the beach where they were born?”

your eyebrows slowly migrate up your forehead this words as you stare at him, dumbstruck.

“zoro… you’ve gotten lost on a straight road before —”

“shut up! it’s not — it’s different though… i dunno how to explain it, but i just… i just knew. something — something wasn’t right and i knew i had to find you.”

and even in the relative darkness, you can see the color seeping into his cheeks. you let yourself laugh, glancing down at the half-finished drink in your own hands.

“i’ll… i’ll always find you.”

you look up at his words, his voice so much softer than you’re used to, the words so much more tender. you look up to find him watching you, his gaze soft and warm, sweet and molten.

“even if it takes me forever… i’ll… i’ll always find my way to you.”

and you wonder if it’s the alcohol, you wonder if it’s the darkness gifted by the moonless night, the prickling light of a hundred thousand stars winking above in the velvet sky.

you nod, raising your glass in quiet acceptance of his words, of this solemn vow that you know he’d never make without the intention of honoring it until time itself has breathed its last.

you clink your glass against his.

“happy birthday.”

zoro laughs, shaking his head, “can’t believe you’re making me celebrate two months early.”

“we can throw another party when its your actual birthday.”

“yeah — just promise me you won’t get kidnapped again.”

you laugh, shaking your head, “as long as you promise that if i do… you’ll be there to find me.”

zoro raises his glass to his lips, “i’ll drink to that.”

you toss your own drink back, feel the burn of it work it’s way down your throat, the fire settling in the pit of your stomach as zoro tugs you by the hand back to the heart of the party, where nami screams and throws her arms round you, pulling you into a suffocating hug and sanji nearly trips over trying to refill your glass.

zoro grins, laughing as luffy wobbles and nearly smashes into the main mast. he lets sanji refill his drink; he lets luffy pull him into a unwilling sea shanty, everyone swaying left and right with the uneven rhythm of the drowsy sea.

and he realizes, not for the first time, though it still sometimes comes as a surprise — that there’s no place he’d rather be. because you see, for zoro home is both a place and a person — the place is here with his crew around him, the ocean beneath them, the world sprawled out like a map at their feet.

and the person… he looks up across the raucous merry-making to catch your eye, to catch a breath of your bright, bell-like laughter — he’s never been more sure of anything else in his entire life that the person… is you.

opla!zoro requests r open LOL (literally idk if i will write anyone else but him at this point but EY if u got a req....)

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valenishere · 2 months

Text

Sagau Idea

I'm not that good with writing YouPoV's so there may be some odd usage of they's and thems then switching to "you"'s. this'll be stock full of typos so be warned

Mentions of injury, implied murder, blood, and implied cult

It's been a long while since I've gotten into Self-aware genshin aus, reading the fluffiest scenes to straight up gore. And theres this concept I saw about where the creator (basically, you) can make any oc come to life and help them out. (this one read it s really good. They also expanded on it go read it too its a really neat build-up on it. this one)

And as a DnD enjoyer as well... there's this idea thats been brewing in my head whenever i think back to it.

What if in Imposter!au where they're being constantly being hunted... after getting cornered in one of the nations (in the Chasm for example) they get desperate and try out an idea they don't think would work.

While resting after being in the brink of death(again) in a place Teyvat has helped you conceal, your thoughts wander. You think, why is there even a Creator? There isn't supposed to be one. That kinda concept just disrupts everything they know about the game. It's a ridiculous concept. In your delirious state, you think, "I wish that just disappears... Then i wouldn't be..."

Then you remebered the curious ability you've recently unlocked in your "adventures". The ability to create characters, with some limitations. It took you quite a bit to adjust to your newfound ability and its caveats, resulting in a few heartbreaking loss on the way.

But as a DnD player, overcoming the death of your beloved characters quickly is a mental fortitude you've developed. And it's handy that you've already made a few characters for your past sessions before landing in Teyvat. It saved you from being one-shotted right from the start.

Although now... You're down to only one left.

"... I'm so tired..."

The mental stress of being in a constant state of danger, paranoia, hunger, pain, and exhaustion have worn you down to a point where you can't even think up of more characters to make up for the one's that have recently passed. You slipped up so bad because of sleeplessness that your last capable party of characters died and a hole was speared through your gut too.

As you lay bleeding on the cold ground, with only a talking mushroom to keep you company, you wrack your brain to put together a proper character but... you really can't. You can't even think straight. Not with the recent information you've found out.

The so-called Creator is now creating their very own characters, their very own people/army, through alchemy, and is now sending them after you, thus increasing your hunters by double. And on top of the already powerful vision-holders (of course they're powerful, you made them that way), you figured... "Ah... I'm fucked..."

Knowing you might as well be as good as done now, you didn't even bother bringing out the last of your characters to heal you. It's not like healing yourself will make you forget about this lifelong trauma--

... Forget?

...

A fleeting thought.

A dumb fleeting thought. A very dumb one at that.

One that will for sure backfire in your face if you do it wrong. And quite frankly, it could spell the end for this world, even for the one they call Creator.

... But it's not like you have anything else to lose.

And so, within the dim light of the mushroom, you painstakingly start to write. Word for word, cramming everything information you know, as deatiled as you can make it into bringing it into life. A character you've never tried making before. Something that could possibly end your suffering. Or make it worse.

You honestly don't know if you're doing it right. After all, you've never tried something like it before.

"What are you making this time?' the ever so curious mushroom asked.

You grin, a manic look in your eyes. "Either my stupidest... or my brightest idea yet."

It's not long befere you finished. You gaze upon your finished product and you have to say... it's even more fleshed out than your best characters. And that quick sketch you drew... you swear those hollow eyes are following you already. That may be just the blood loss talking.

"That's... one ugly worm you've drawn..." The mushroom hums, like it can just see the monstrosity that you've created.

You chuckle breathlessly, looking almost solemn with what you're about to do. Well... it' not wrong. But...

"This is my kid. Their name is... Falseh. Get along well with them... okay?"

0===|>>>>>.

The very ground trembles as the Lord of Geo strides through the dark tunnels, a dark look in his eyes and a spear in his hand. If his presence wasn't enough, the murderous intent rolling off of him in waves is enough to deter any beasts from crossing his path.

The imposter was last seen slinking around the depths of the Chasm by one of the Tianquan's agents. Although failing to execute the imposter the first chance they got with their incompetence, Morax have to commend the Qixing for being able to find them even in the depths of the earth.

For some reason, the land seems to reject his commands from time to time now. He was baffled as to why his beloved Maker is hindering him in fulfilling his given mission but he's just been informed that the land defiance of him is due to the imposter infecting the land with their vile abilities.

Now, he's even more hellbent on making sure to drive his spear through the imposters heart and presenting it to his Grace. He won't miss a second time.

His eyes sharpens as a he a cavern just up ahead, soft blue light spilling through entrance. Tightening his grip on his spear, the power of Geo gathers in his other, ready to skewer someone five times into death if he so wishes.

He steps through the entrance and immediately lands on a figure, leaning prone under a giant glowing mushroom. He relaxes a bit. He recognizes this place. It's a bit close to the Land of Verdure, Sumeru. He needs to be careful. He can't be caught flaunting his power on another Archons domain after all.

Approaching the figure, he gets a bit surprised as they twitch, looking up to him through their hair. They try to talk, but all they can manage are quiet wheezes.

'Oh. They're still breathing. That's good.' Zhongli kneels down beside them, looking them over. They look like they've been dragged through the Abyss and back. Their midriff is bandaged heavily but it's already bled through, forming a pool of their own blood below them. He frowns lightly. It must be quite a big injury if it's bleeding this much.

Wordlessly, he holds a hand over the injury and channels his power. He's not the most profficient in healing, but he should at least be able to stop the bleeding.

Mere moments later, he have plugged up the injury and the figure is now able to stand up.

"Th-Thank you so much Rex Lapis!" they bow down. Or at least, they bow down the best they can without opening their wound. "Any longer and I would've surely perished..."

Zhongli waves them off nonchalantly as he starts to walk back out the way he came. "It's best you get back to the surface. Your injury needs to be properly tended. And I can see that..."

His eyes drifts to the scattered bloody bandages and practically empty backpack. "You've run out of supplies. It is a virtue to you mortals to know when to give up. Remember that."

"Y-Yes sir Rex Lapis sir! I'll get back right away!" they start to quickly collect their things, haphazardly stuffing the bandages and handbook into the bag, being careful of their injury.

The Lord of Geo just watches for a moment before completely leaving, trusting that they won't make any stupid mistake and go back post haste.

After he has left, you pause in your packing, leaning against the mushroom and slowly sliding down with a shaky breath.

"Y-You... didn't you say he and the entirety of the world was hunting for you?" The mushroom hums in confusion, sharing your tension. "What was that? Heck, he was the one that put a hole through you and he healed you!"

You chuckle breathlessly, the manic look intensifying in your eyes as it dawns on you that it worked. That stupid idea of yours actually worked!

And if you can get to the Creator... you can make this whole concept disappear altogether. Forever.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see it. A large mass of hairless flesh writhing about, multiple tentacle-like appendages potruding out of it. It's slithering it's limbs about, coiling around the mushroom and and back again, and around you as well.

But when you turn your head to actually look, there's nothing there. All you can hear is what seems to be muffled humming, an eerie tune listlessly flowing through the air (but somehow, the sound is the most comforting thing ever).

"Oh it's nothing. I think... he just heard something that made him forget."

#chaotic blabbing #spreadingchaos #genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #sagau impostor au #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #genshin isekai #A Creature That Sings A Song That Makes You Forget #shi its already 2 in the morning #I wrote this half asleep so dont be surprised if it doesnt make sense #Falseh is pretty easy to figure out #hint it starts with a false and it has multiple heads that can sing #its a homebrew guy but i really like 'im y'know

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little-star-library · 3 months

Text

Satin Sheets

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader

18+ only (mdni please)

Summary: This is just a short little drabble that I brewed in my head and I couldn’t stop thinking about what domestic life with Astarion would be like and I got ahead of myself with this one. Just some spicy fluff with our favorite pale elf.

Genre/Tags: fluff, spicy, little spicy anyways, soft Astarion, slight Dom Astarion, light teasing, blood, blood drinking, sexual themes

Word Count: 2,000+ words

Astarion has always had a taste for the finer things in life, vampire or not, and he has spared no expense when it comes to spoiling you absolutely rotten. And after all that you and your ragtag group of friendly weirdos have been through to defeat the Netherbrain, he took it upon himself to find the “perfect slice of paradise”, according to him, for the fresh start that the two of you so rightly deserved being the heroes of Baldur’s Gate and such. Even if he still remained to be a creature of the night after killing Cazador and refusing to fulfill the right to profane ascension, Astarion yearned for a new life with you by his side and that’s all he could ever want for as long as you’ll have him.

Now searching for your new home was no easy feat as your bosom companion was rather selective in his choices, but you both settled on a little cottage on the outskirts of the Lower City that was a bit of a fixer upper. With a little love and care, along with a generous amount of gold that may or may not have been acquired in an honest manner, your humble abode began to take shape into the ideal sanctuary that Astarion dreamed of. He made sure to include everything that you both could possibly want even if you insisted that he was all you needed to be happy and content, but he insisted on fulfilling all of your desires one way or another. So over time, you and Astarion worked together to create the perfect atmosphere that encompassed a personal reading nook with floor to ceiling bookcases to house all of the books and tomes you collected during your adventures, a small garden for you to plant and grow your favorite herbs and flowers; along with many rugs, furniture, and paintings to decorate the space. But Astarion claimed the bedroom as his domain to furnish. And who were you to deny him?

To say that he lacked any ambition for interior design would be a severe understatement and it certainly showed when it came to his plans for your shared boudoir. Out of the few rooms that were in the cottage, the bedroom would always be Astarion’s favorite. The room itself wasn’t very impressive to him at first glance, but with great determination there came even better possibilities. In the end, the bedroom felt more comfortable yet quaint in his perspective, but in more of a romantic sense nonetheless. Besides the fireplace, there were a smattering of candles placed throughout the area to engulf it in a dim glow along with furs and rugs that lined the wooden floor so Astarion could walk freely without having to dread about the cold temperature of the floorboards. However, the crowning jewel was the four poster bed that stood in the middle of the room with the fluffiest of mattresses, a canopy of crimson red velvet to shut out the sunlight when needed, and a matching set of the softest satin bedsheets that cradled you in a delicate and tender embrace you would never want to let go of.

“Now isn’t this cozy, darling? I think I would go as far to say that this room is the very heart of the house, aside from yours, of course.” His honeyed words always sent your heart a flutter no matter the subject, but he did have a point. Other than the more obvious activities that took place within those bedsheets, you both spent most of your time as of late in bed lazing around and whispering sweet nothings to each other without a care in the world. It truly was paradise to experience something like this with Astarion, to see him so at ease and be able to feel the warmth and love that you held only for him without any further obligations to chain him down. And like so many other occasions that you’ve shared in your bedroom, that is where you currently found yourself now.

The sun had begun to descend for the day and neither you or Astarion had made any motion to draw open the curtains of the canopy. Over time, you began to adjust your sleeping schedule to be more accommodating to your lover’s needs despite your ambitions to discover a way for him to be able to walk in the sun once again. But in the meantime, the two of you basked in the encompassing darkness because this somehow never bothered Astarion, not like this at least, not when he had you wrapped around his frame as he rested atop you and with his head laying against your chest to listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of your heart.

He always awoke from his trance before you so he could admire your presence while you slept and it always made him melt inside knowing that you willingly chose to be in such a vulnerable position all because you trusted him with your life. You looked so peaceful as you slumbered through the day and he looked upon you with an overwhelming amount of admiration, a soft sigh escaping from his lips at the sight. He thought it was truly selfish of him to wake you, but he yearned to hear your voice and feel your loving caress over his body. Your touch was always so gentle and he could never get enough of it.

As gingerly as he could muster, Astarion shifted his weight and started to litter kisses across your chest, starting at where your heart rested and up to the crook of your neck, nibbling gently at the marks he left behind the day before when you offered to let him feed his sanguine hunger, lingering there for a moment as you began to rouse from your slumber. He continued his trek of loving pecks across your jawline and to your cheeks and across your forehead before you puffed out a long exhale with the faintest smile that signaled his trickery at work. With one last dawdling kiss at the corner of your lips from his, you rose a hand to entwine into the crown of disheveled curls that lay over his head, lightly scratching at his scalp which resulted in him falling back into your arms to lay his head upon your chest and practically purring at your gentle affection.

“Awake already, my love? I hope I’m not disturbing your rest.” The low timbre of Astarion’s ‘morning voice’ reached your ears and it sent a shiver down your spine, but you knew all too well of his intentions as you could feel the smirk growing across his face against you.

“No, not all,” you breathed out. “But I was having such a wonderful dream.”

“Oh, is that right? Won’t you tell me about it?” Blinking away the remaining remnants from your sleep addled eyes, you peer down to find those familiar orbs of crimson gleaming in the dark already locking with your gaze that was filled with his fondness and endearment for you.

“Well let’s see,” you closed your eyes and pretended to recollect on your dreams as if they were fading away, but the truth was that you could never forget those vivid visions that your mind had conjured. This earned a playful nip at your sternum from Astarion and it made you squeal in surprise, the sound of him chuckling in response to your squirming only further tested you, but you didn’t have the nerve to complain. You loved it when he was playful with you like this.

“Don’t keep me waiting, love. The anticipation is killing me.”

You looked upon Astarion once more and smiled sweetly at the sight before you. He watched your eyes flutter with his chin resting against your solar plexus and you couldn’t help but lower your hand from his hair to cup his face, stroking your thumb across his pale cheek absentmindedly as your other hand brushed down his arm that was wrapped around your waist. His smile matched your own and let out an unneeded sigh of contentment as he grasped your hand to place a kiss at the inside of your palm, making your breath hitch slightly at the simple gesture. He truly was a vision both in your dreams and reality, a beautiful and somewhat ethereal being that you would instantly gravitate towards.

“It was much like this actually,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Our limbs entangled with each other’s beneath these sheets, gliding across the bed while we take our time caressing and kissing our bodies, mapping out the spots that made us whimper and sigh with pleasure.”

The thought alone made you squeeze your thighs together in search of friction and you could feel a blush rising from your neck to the tip of your ears. Astarion’s eyes seemed to darken in the already dim lighting at the subject of your tale and you could tell that you had his rapt attention by now as he rose from his position to lay on his side with his chin resting in his hand to stare down at you with a look of growing desire consuming his facial features. That sight alone left you breathless and you couldn’t take your eyes off his own gaze, licking your lips in anticipation of his next move.

“Go on, darling. Tell me everything.” His voice emitted a low growl at the sensation of his member hardening against the soft satin, trying to rein in his control before he lost all sense to take you right then and there.

“I-I remember you taking me into your arms,” you began, a slight chill running down your spine at the hungry look in his eyes. Oh gods, those eyes. You knew that look very intimately. It always made you weak at the knees and if it weren’t for the fact that you were lying in bed, you’d be quite sure that he would have you lying in a puddle instead. Trying with all your might to not break eye contact with him was rather difficult, but you couldn’t stand to not see his reactions. “And you devoured me in more ways than one, as if you were completely starved until I begged you to stop, making me cry out your name while you took your fill.”

Your breath was shaking towards the end of your sentence, but Astarion was quick to silence you as he cupped your jaw in both hands at a better angle and leaned down to take your lips in a tender, desperate kiss. The sensation of his mouth was electrifying to say the least and you froze up in surprise for only a second until you hastily reciprocated his actions. There was a familiar pool of warmth that sank in the pit of your core and it grew and grew into a rising flame when your beloved vampire started to tease your bottom lip with the edge of his fangs and a lick of his tongue, silently requesting your permission for entry. You complied willingly and gasped at the touch of his tongue, the two of you moaning softly as you explored each other’s mouths. He tasted utterly divine in what you could only describe as him with the slight undertone of your blood and a hint of red wine he indulged in the night previous. It was simply intoxicating and you never wanted this moment to come to an end. You were floating in a cloud of bliss with only thanks to his attentive ministrations as you held onto him for dear life, tangling your fingers in the curls that rested at the nape of his neck and tugging oh so gently to tease him even more. This earned you another bite from those gorgeous fangs, pricking your flesh until you felt a drop of blood pool to the surface of your lips which Astarion gladly lapped up, making him groan in delight at the taste of your precious essence. But before you even took notice he pulled away suddenly and rested your forehead against yours, the ghost of his cold instinctual breath entwined with your warm gasps of excitement as you tried in vain to regain your breathing. It was all for naught though as you looked up to Astarion and the oxygen left your lungs to see him panting with the pupils of his eyes blown by his carnal thirst that he only held in his undead heart for you.

“Maybe,” you wheezed. “Maybe I’m still dreaming after all.” A chuckle rumbled from Astarion’s chest at your statement and it made your blush darken at the thought of amusing him. It pleased you to know that you could have these little moments of teasing banter that came as a second nature to you both.

“Perhaps you still are, my sweet.” He quipped back, stroking a few loose hairs behind your ear and kissing you at the tip of your nose. “But if this were a dream, then how does it end?”

His smile was infectious and you were completely enamored by his sultry flirting. He knew you couldn’t stand to be teased by him for so long and he knew which buttons to press to get you right where he wanted you. It was infuriating, but you loved it all the same. Brushing your nose along his own, you leaned up just enough to kiss him briefly and wrapped your arms over his shoulders.

“What if there was no ending?” You questioned him. “What if we stay in this dream forever, in each other’s arms just like this?”

“Oh darling,” he thumbs at the bottom of your chin to catch the remaining blood that dribbled from your lips and sucks it into his mouth, licking it away as you whimpered at the sight. “You had me at forever.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #dungeons and dragons #18+ only #18+ content #fluff #smut #little star library

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

If your taking requests at the time you get around to seeing this can we get some flirty Keegan? My man needs more love and I'm starving for more stuff with him. Maybe some downtime just cuddling and flirting and being relaxed with his s/o at home. Or perhaps some jealous Keegan, a night out and he doesn't like the way someone keeps eyeing his s/o. Your choice. ❤️

Gentle Worship

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: The days when Keegan was home were rare, but always cherished.

Word Count: 5.03k

Warning: Slightly suggestive, pure fluff

A/N: Since these two requests were pretty much the same I combined them, hope you two don't mind. (I'll just tag you, @angsty-microwave, so you'll know right away that I posted this). This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written...Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

His arm was wrapped around your waist, tight and gripping you like you would disappear if he let go. The sweeping sensation of his hand was spread over the skin of your abdomen, nestled under your large shirt, and a calloused thumb moves gently back and forth over any available flesh. Just above the swell of your opposite hip, which digs heavily into the mattress, fingers tighten as you shuffle slightly.

It was early – perhaps too early to be awake – but Keegan was nothing if not as constant as the morning birds who sing their songs outside the window every day. Cascading light was just beginning to crest into the shared apartment, rendering your sheer shades useless.

The only upside to that cheap purchase was that it helped get you out of bed in the morning, even if it was only to find a blanket to throw over the curtain wrack.

Your boyfriend’s bare chest expands over your back and a silent sigh rustles the strands of your hair. A nose is pressed into your neck, a soft nuzzle leaving the flesh of your lips twitching into a sleepy smile. It was rare you woke up with him still home, but quickly remembered this was his scheduled day of leave.

“I know you’re awake,” Keegan’s voice blesses your ears, deep and layered with gravel. You wondered if he got any sleep last night; when you went to bed he wasn’t back from work yet.

The man fixes his grip on you and pulls, and, unbelievably, you end up closer to him. The Ghost presses your form deeply into his body like you were a teddy bear and not a grown woman before he continues. You go willingly, of course, the sheets rippling like water around the two of you as you slide. There was no better space heater than Keegan, and when he touched you, your skin turned to malleable clay.

Smiling, your eyelids keep stubbornly closed as a kiss is pressed into the fabric of his t-shirt you had stolen, just by your shoulder blade.

“How?” Your voice whispers, lips forming a smirk. How had he known you were awake? The answer was incredibly simple – you already knew it, in fact. But it was better when you heard it from him.

Keegan grunts, legs intertwined with yours. Sluggish, his free hand goes to circle around under your neck, leeching onto your throat as you sleepily make a noise at the action – not surprised but more annoyed at the jostling of your head. He doesn’t apply pressure, simply grips you and curls his fingers to find that specific place.

“Pulse,” He says, squeezing for a moment and feeling your heart rate spike before his hand drops like lead. Your face heats, lungs tighten.

Stifling a small giggle, you bring your limp hand up and grab at Keegan’s digits. You intertwine your fingers with his and pull, flipping his hand over and bending his wrist to an angle so you can lay a quick kiss to the burn scar along his knuckles.

He had gotten it shielding Ajax, another Ghost, from debris flying off a grenade blast a long time ago. The damage extended down his arm and ended at his elbow – he always said it was ugly, and from then on you had never gone a day without kissing it. Every part of him was damaged, but you had never seen someone as beautiful as Keegan.

The Ghost shivers at the feeling of your lips, and his breath stills in reverence as you lay another.

To think he knew you so well he could tell when you had awoken by a small uptick in your veins; hear your heart pulse back to consciousness with his ear pressed to your neck, curled around you so tight you didn’t need a blanket for warmth.

The man thinks to himself that even if you were a thousand miles away he would always know how you were just because of how much he cared for you. Like some fucked up sixth sense.

When Keegan was out in the field he often looked at his watch and knew exactly what you were up to – at seven you woke up, made the bed, and entered the kitchen at seven fifteen still in your pajamas. From then on you made breakfast, took a shower, and so on. He could be in a gunbattle with Federation soldiers and his mind would blank when he spies his timepiece.

She’s going on a walk right about now, The Ghost would blink, balaclava bunched over his nose and chin; he would snap back not a mere second later as if he was never distracted.

If anything those moments grounded him – reminded him of what he was going back to when the sting of gunpowder made his eyes burn and his blood thumped with adrenaline. They should have distracted him, made him sloppy, but the thought of you waiting for him turned his focus to razor-sharp. He’s never going to leave you waiting for him for too long, hoping beyond hope that he’s not dead somewhere.

“Welcome home, Kee,” You whisper against the skin of his wrist, and the man seems to remember to breathe as his heart skips a beat in his ribcage, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Keegan hums, expression softening, and the grip on your hip moves back. His callouses leave goosebumps in their wake, scratching your skin so perfectly as they start a journey to the opposite side of your waist. Traveling, the limb tenses to roll you onto your back with practiced ease. Keegan moves slightly, and you half-open your eyes with a grunt of surprise only to be graced with the blurry view of his toned chest, ivory scars you love just as much as the rest of him on full display. Grey sweats sit loosely around his tapered waist, the string united and tickling your navel as Keegan shifts his weight to be above you, knees pushing your legs open. Slumping forward, his hands land right by your head, crimpling the pillow below you and bringing your adoring attention to his eyes.

Gun metal blue, with flecks of pure iron near the center – usually hard and cold, they stay half-lidded and weighed down by the early morning; silken in a way only you knew.

You loved his eyes, how they gave you so much so willingly. It was a feat that others could dream about but never attain as you had.

Keegan’s black hair is ruffled, the longer bits sticking out in a way that reminded you of a black cat who had just gotten into a fight in the back alley. The rising sun caresses his sharp cheeks and makes playful shadows.

Gawking at him would be an understatement, but it wasn’t like the man wasn’t doing it back to you.

Your body was sagging with fatigue, eyes red at the corners and watery. The shirt that once belonged to Keegan was now claimed as your own, baggy and swamping the sleep shorts you wear as if they weren't even on you. But that wasn’t really a surprise anyways – the shorts were barely sizable enough to be considered attire.

Keegan wouldn’t have it any other way.

His eyes travel the expanse of your visible throat, how it bobs as you swallow, tongue clicking; going down he grunts lowly as his gaze lands on your bare thighs and the way they spread nicely around his fitted body and allowed him to grip you where he saw fit.

You were so small compared to him…different. Soft and good. There were times the man was confused as to how this relationship even worked as well as it did because of how starkly contrasted your worlds were. Keegan, when he was away, was silent – so silent people could go days without comment from him unless it was necessary to the mission, so how you got him talking to you at that bar was an utter mystery.

She’s good, Keegan thinks to himself as he spaces out above you, hands near your head tightening into the pillowcase, Didn’t even realize it was too late ‘til she had me in bed with her.

Just as your body started to squirm with anticipation from how Keegan was admiring you with eyes that bleed lust, his weight suddenly drops on top of you without any warning. Going to press his lower body between your legs, your sleep shorts bunch at the skin of his waist; his arms snake under your shirt - groping at any skin available. You yelp as your eyes bulge but don’t say a word as the Ghost situates himself as a gigantic dog would. A quiet moment passes where you hear the birds outside the window, chirping away and calling to their mates, but then your chest jerks in raspy, delayed, laughter; face wrinkling as warmth floods around your all-encompassed body.

You were all but disappearing under him like you were never there.

Keegan smirks from where his head is pressed into the crook of your neck, muttering, “Good to be back…Missed ya.’”

“Hm,” You make the sound in the back of your throat, raising a hand to card your fingers through his hair, “Well, you better have. I made brownies yesterday.”

Itching at his scalp, the man releases a sound akin to a purr, and the grip on you tightens, shoving you down even further into the mattress. By now the sheets had been pressed to the far end of the bed, thrown into a pile you would have Keegan straighten out when he made the bed later. You continue your action on his head as the weighted blanket above you presses light kisses to your sleep-warm skin.

Keegan pours himself into the action – knowing how to tell you everything without uttering a word.

It wasn’t long before your eyes started fluttering again, a delicate sigh falling from your lips as Keegan’s nose slides up your pulse point to your sensitive ear.

“Go back to sleep,” He says, voice so smooth it travels over you like rain and leaves you shivering, “It’s too early for you to be up yet.”

“M’kay,” You mutter, knocking your head to the side so it lightly connects with his scalp, the strands itching your cheek. He chuckles from over you, and you feel it more than hear it, but nonetheless, it leaves a warm fire in your veins as your breath evens; your lungs suck in careful breaths.

You don’t notice, but your hand stays pressing Keegan’s head into you, latched onto the ebony of his hair strands like a lifeline. His hands around your waist squeeze once before they fall stationary – pointedly staying still as his heart beats opposite yours.

And then a slow, steady, silence.

The birds chirp and the sun rises, but in the bedroom, two lovers fall into a gentle slumber that only they could achieve in each other's presence. A strange phenomenon, really, to find a man like Keegan so eager to disappear into a dream – he rarely had nice ones. But, one could suppose that when he was with you the bad dreams never plagued him as they did in No Man’s Land during extended Ops.

Because he never uttered a peep as he, in a pure sleep, nuzzled his head deeper into your neck instinctually.

—

The sun is noticeably more visible, no longer a deep red but rather a goldish-orange that makes it look like the curtains are on fire. There are shadows of flying birds passing by behind the glass, whizzing about to catch insects mid-air before zipping back to their nests; no doubt feeding hungry children.

Groaning your fingers twitch under the cream-colored comforter pulled up to your chin, and your eyes blink open. There’s a moment where you wonder where the weight on your chest has gone before you realize the absence was much more than a force.

Where did Keegan go?

His weight was absent from over you, his defined muscles not heavy on your skin just the way you like. The disappearance of those rough hands carding over your body made you huff, nose scrunching in annoyance. Already you knew he wasn’t in the bedroom or the Master Bath.

Keegan was always silent when he went about, but when he was home you always found him making more noise so he wouldn’t scare you – walking more heavily, closing the cabinets so they made a small thump, even whistling when coming into a room you were in. There were too many broken mugs in the garbage admittingly but, now, the numbers had all but halted.

Sitting up, you rub at your eyes before yawning, stretching your arms above your head, and arching your back before feeling the chill of the air invade your now-shed cocoon. Goosebumps rise as you shift your body and throw your legs out, bare feet dancing just above the wooden floors. Before you were about to graze your toes a grating sound from the kitchen stalls you; freezing your body as it leans forward, hands by your hips.

With twitching ears, you look at the slightly ajar door, eyes wide as your head tilts.

“Keegan?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“Kitchen!” Your boyfriend calls back, and the scraping of a cast-iron pan makes itself known to you.

Smiling, you look down at the cold floor and come up with an idea to keep as much body heat as possible while also making it to your Lover in record time. Throwing off the remainder of the covers you bolt to the door like a deer, pushing it to the side and squealing as the chill begins to enter your bones. Bouncing, you dash down the hallway laughing with a wide smile before entering the joint living room and kitchen.

You see Keegan’s bare broad back at the stove, defined build falling to a tapered waist that begs for your legs to be wrapped around it. He still wears those gray sweats, only held up by the swell of his hips. Keegan’s head tilts to the side, listening to your glee as his hand lowers the spatula to rest on the counter.

What’s she up to this time? He wonders, face blank but eyes crinkling at the sound of your echoing laughter. Keegan loved your laugh – loved it even more when he realized it was only for him to keep.

Taking a step back from the eggs he’s cooking, the man is just about to turn around to see what’s going on, and why you’re running feet are pounding over the floor, but you’re already upon him.

Thumping up the two stairs that separate the kitchen and living room, you dodge the island counter with nimble feet and launch yourself at Keegan’s back.

Grappling like a koala, the Ghost below you grunts in surprise as your arms wrap around his neck; legs over his waist and locking. Reeling back away from the heated stove top so no one gets burned, Keegan’s hands snap back to your scalp and to your thigh. His eyes widen as he whips his head to the side to stare at you. Shock lives in the deep pools of his iris’.

“What the hell are you–?!”

Your laughter interrupts his loud exclamation and the boar of a man pauses under you, fingers at your thigh squeezing the flesh like you were going to fall off of him; as if your legs weren’t clasped around him for dear life. Keegan keeps eye contact, raising a brow in mute exasperation.

“You mind tellin’ me why you thought that was a good idea, Doll? One mistake and you would’ve sent me right into the stove.”

You press your face into the back of his skull, cheeks heating with sheepishness as you nuzzle the strands of his hair, “...The floors were cold…”

A moment of silence ensues, the sizzling of the eggs in the pan the only sound bouncing off the walls. The nothingness trickles before a jerking motion of the body you hold makes you bounce up and down, hands along your form tightening.

Keegan chuckles velvet-like, eyes crinkling at the edges as a small smile stretches his lips. You, in turn, giggle quietly into his skin, peeling your head back just a smidge to look him in the eye with a mischievous glint. The man turns his head back to the pan and releases the hand from the back of your head, going to grab the spatula with long fingers. His second stays on your thigh, lightly squeezing when you lean farther into his back.

He shoves down the feelings of delight that your close contact gives him.

“Smells good,” You comment, chin going to rest on Keegan’s shoulder. It was a wonderful thing that your boyfriend was tall – you had a perfect view of everything below you so long as you used him like playground equipment, “I missed you cooking half-naked in the mornings. Gave me a good view and a meal…” Cheekily, you nudge his ear with your nose, “Sometimes both at the same time.”

You hear the man huff, but the redness that blooms over his ears makes you smirk, half the grip around his neck moving to trail over his Adam's Apple; nails lightly dragging over the scars and burns over his pecks and upper body.

“Careful,” Keegan warns, but the gravel in his voice betrays his enjoyment. As well as the sly tone he takes.

“I am being careful,” You tease, drawing your hand back for stability when Keegan moves to grab the plates from inside the nearby cabinet, “If I was any more careful I’d be you.”

“You’re makin’ it sound like an insult,” He distributes the eggs evenly, sending you a quick glance out of the side of his eye – the makeup of them back to that regular blank slate but still glazed with care – and raised a brow.

You have to choke down the whimper in your throat when he stares at you like that.

“Well, how do I put this,” Looking to the side to hide your burning cheeks, you continue, “You’re the only person who could be you, attractively, Love. I think It would induce a heart attack if anyone else acted like you around me.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean, Civ?”

You laugh as Keegan jostles you, shaking his shoulder so you have to grip him tighter around the neck and waist. He scoffs, but a slight curl to his lips tells you everything you need to know.

The damn bastard likes me hanging off him, You realize, Son of a Bitch.

But you can’t help the way your pulse sings.

Grabbing the filled plates, Keegan moves to the island with you still stuck to his back before striding smoothly to grab forks; carrying you like you weigh nothing to him.

For a man like your boyfriend, you do weigh nothing.

“Off you get,” Keegan mutters, turning around when he gets back to the island so your backside is just above the countertop, “Careful.”

You release your legs from around his waist, flinching lightly at the chill of the granite as your skin connects, and allow the man to turn around with your fingers still locked together behind his neck.

“I think you’ve forgotten something,” You lift a brow in expectation, and watch Keegan tilt his head.

“Forgotten? I don’t forget things, Doll,” He says, but steps closer regardless, placing down the forks on the island with a clink before his large hands go to your waist, pressing heavily into the fabric of your shirt, “You’ve confused me with someone else. Hesh, probably.”

“Hmph,” You roll your eyes, “If I remember correctly you woke up first, so it’s your turn, Kee. And Hesh isn’t that bad at forgetting stuff – he remembers Riley’s birthday well enough.” Smirking, you puff out your chest.

Keegan frowns down at you.

The man’s grip rapidly travels to your back, forcing you right into him with a dig of his fingers and all you can do is gasp in retaliation. You feel his muscles move and writhe with the action, biceps bulging over your side as they shove into your flesh.

“Hm,” Keegan grunts from above, and you feel his chest expand against yours because of it. He leans closer so that his breath hits your lips, and utters sarcastically as his eyes bore into you wide ones, “Alright. But only because my girl asked so nicely.”

Keegan moves his hand to grip your chin tight and angles your head up without hesitation, thick digits brushing your skin before his lips descend and encompass yours.

All of it happened so suddenly that you barely had time to react before he was already groaning into your mouth, guiding your head to the side. Sighing through your nose, your eyes flutter shut as you both move together, and when you dig into the sensitive skin of his neck with your nails you let your teeth graze his plump flesh.

Pulling at his bottom lip, you revel in the sensation of his palms sliding down your spine, going to tighten a hold over the band of your shorts at the small of your back. He opens his mouth for you, allowing your tongue to meet his own. A deep humming in his chest showed his pleasure.

Keegan could never fully describe how kissing you affected him – how it broke down his psyche to the bare essentials that he would use to make you feel good in turn. It was like trying to describe a drug trip, wanting more with a deep ache in his chest.

This really was the best way to wake up.

Grunting and pulling back for air, you pant as your nose twitches. The scent of the eggs was at your side, tempting your empty stomach like a Keegan was testing your willpower. Smirking when the man’s bitten lip comes into your field of view, your boyfriend moves and puts his forehead against yours. His eyes silently urge you to continue what you were doing moments ago, but you pause.

“I’m hungry,” You say simply, eyes sparkling as your heart bounces inside of you; lungs slowly gaining back the air that Keegan had stolen. Ever the overachiever, he doesn’t even look partially winded.

The Ghost’s expression shifts, eyebrows turning in at your comment. He mutters, “I can take care of–”

A finger snaps to his mouth, and you press until the skin bulges out at the sides. Chuckling, you catch Keegan’s fake pouting and less-than-amused expression and use your free hand to ruffle his hair. He scoffs, pulling his head away from your attacking grip.

“For eggs, Keegan Russ.” The man groans quietly, backing up a step, “You perv.”

Your arms immediately gravitate to one of the forks and a plate, legs still handing off the counter limply.

“Tease,” Your boyfriend mutters before squeezing your thigh and going to grab the milk from the fridge. Smiling, you watch his back as he saunters away, chewing the food he had made for the both of you.

—

“Love?” You call from the living room, digging around in the drawer, fingers sliding over the old vinyl records, muttering the names under your breath before pausing, “Where’s My Way?”

“Frank Sinatra?” The man asks from the office where he was finishing up some reports from Elias.

Usually, you would be annoyed by the Ghost leader for giving your boyfriend more work to do on his day off, but seeing as it was only a single file this time, you could stave off the fiery phone call to the Captain.

It’s a good thing Elias’ nice, You think with a furrowed brow, Otherwise, I’d have no problem yelling at him.

“...Third drawer to the right, fifth down just under Louis Armstrong.”

“Thanks!” Following Keegan’s instructions, your dig around and, sure enough, after passing What a Wonderful World you find the blue sleeve depicting Frank Sinatra’s face and smirk, “There you are, lovely,” Muttering, you close the drawer and carefully peel the vinyl out of the protective layering and walk over to the record player sitting on one of the side tables near the couch.

Dropping the sleeve on the coffee table, you set everything up just right and place the needle in the groove carefully, making sure not to scratch it. Soon enough the catchy song is wafting out into the air, leaving you nodding your head along to the late ’60s tune. Humming, and feeling quite content, you turn to go and grab a book and wait for Keegan to be done with his work; your comfy pants and sweatshirt hugging you warmly along the way.

“Thought you hated Sinatra?” Yelping, your heart stutters as your head snaps to the hallway opening, “Called him overrated, if I’m not mistaken.”

Leaning against the wall, Keegan watches you closely, a black tank top on but still sporting those gray sweatpants. It was like he knew that you loved the way he looked in them.

“You need a bell, Kee,” You force out a quick breath, frowning over at the man, “You know that? And I did not say I didn’t like Sinatra – that was The Beach Boys.”

Keegan rolls his eyes but stays where he is, arms crossed as you still hum to the song under your breath. He looks at your clothes, freshly washed hair, and the way the light covers you like a shroud. You looked so simple like that…domestic…he calls the word forward to his mind.

It was one he never thought he would use to describe a situation he was in – not even when before ODIN was fired over the Western United States. Domestic. Try as he could, being like that with you was far better than anything he had ever experienced.

You brought him comfort that he would kill to keep.

Suddenly, Keegan pushes off the wall just as you start to head over to the bookshelf. You had simply expected him to leave and go back to his office; finish those reports so the afternoon could be free.

“Keegan?” You ask as he continues to stalk forward, your legs halting in turn, “What are you doing?”

He stops right in front of you as the song meets the high point and his silent feet pause ahead of you. Looking at him strangely, you tilt your head and smile, slightly confused.

He has to finish work…why is he…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Amusingly creasing your brow, you watch as Keegan tilts his head. He holds out a hand to you, beginning to smirk at the question.

Wasn’t it obvious?

His eyes were burning again, littered with wells of silver and iron that gleam like stars when the warm light hits them. You’re reminded of a story you were told as a child about an immortal prince of starlight, who waited through every century to find the reincarnated woman he loved – the lady only able to remember their lives together when she looked into his eyes.

Now, Keegan was no prince. He was far too covered in blood and gore to ever be considered one…but at that moment you swear he came close to one.

“Dance with me, Doll.” Your expression freezes, breath stilling, before a heavy heat blooms all over your face and neck; ears burning. Watching your boyfriend with soft wonder, your heart beats out of order.

Dance? You can’t help the giddy look on your face, ears twitching, He wasn’t to dance with me?

The music in the background swells as you place your hand in his, feeling his rough callouses and sucking in a breath when he squeezes your limb so gently – like you were made of glass.

Your hands go around Keegan’s shoulders, fingers itching the back of his neck as his own circle your waist. Both of your chests brush, and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating. Humming My Way under your breath, you begin to sway back and forth softly as your boyfriend stares down at you. A smile graces his lips, pulling back to show pristine white teeth.

Those true smiles were only promised to you, and you would have it no other way.

“You’re a real softy, Mr. Russ,” You whisper, setting your head into the crook of his neck and sighing, “What would you do if your friends saw you like this? Slow Dancing? Talking all the time instead of grunting out orders?”

“I’d have to off ‘em,” He grunts, ironically, with his breath rustling your hair, “Can’t ruin my reputation now. Worked too hard for it.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you feel Keegan’s chest begin to rumble, causing you to let your body lose all tension and tautness. Closing your eyes, you let him guide your movements with his own and listen to the sound of him humming to you. The music was lost to the two of you, only absorbed in each other – the feeling of skin and beating pulses.

These moments were rare, but so, so, worshiped. You knew Keegan’s job was dangerous, but, hell, the world was dangerous now. All you could ask was that he came home – not that he would come home uninjured because he almost always would. Your boyfriend was selfless, giving so much and never asking for anything. Worthy of all the love in the world.

And you would give that to him – freely. Because you know he loved you in turn.

You were both the receivers of a gentle type of worship; a blessing that can only be given to a kind of bond that would never be broken despite the limitations of death.

And as Keegan lays his hand under your chin and brings your lips into a kiss, you knew that even long after you were both dead and gone the very bones that live in you would always yearn to be by his.

Keegan was your future, and, so too, were you his; he would always return home just for you.

For this.

For a gentle, unselfish, worship.

#keegan p russ #keegan x reader #cod x you #cod x reader #cod #call of duty keegan #call of duty #cod: ghosts #x reader #female reader #cod fanfic #cod fandom

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chlorinecake · 5 months

Note

Hey can you make something like "kissing I hope they catch us " but for a black reader please?

Hot Cocoa Kisses —⊹ N.RK (西村力) ☕️

Pairing… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ boyfriend!riki x girlfriend!reader

Warnings… ₊˚⊹ slightly heated make-out session, teasing, pet names, fluff, rushed

Words… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 867 -> “Your lips taste like hot cocoa”

It was a chilly winter day when you and your boyfriend Riki sat in the living room together.

Cradled in the fluffiest blankets you two could find, you sat in between Riki’s legs on the couch, reading a manga he received as a Christmas gift out loud as he braided a tiny section of your hair. Not to style it, of course, but just out of pure endearment for you.

“So what’s happening now?” Riki asked, mostly focused on carefully overlapping the three strands of hair he was working on.

“Hmm… I actually stopped reading the words a few pages ago. The illustrations alone are much more interesting in my opinion,” you replied, just as he kissed the center of your scalp, letting you know that he was done playing with your hair.

“Let me see,” he said, taking the comic from your hands to examine it for himself. “Yeahhh… the dialogue is pretty impressive, actually. No wonder a little baby like you only wants to look at the pictures though,” he giggled, tickling the spot beneath your jawline before getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

You weren’t ready to leave the warmth of the cozy couch yet, but you understood that Riki wanted one more thing before y’all continued to spend this lovely winter evening together: Hot cocoa.

Your arms found Riki’s waist as he reached for the top cabinet, grabbing the box of hot cocoa mix from the top shelf.

“Almost forgot about these,” he said, pulling down mini marshmallows next.

You put yourself in charge of warming the milk for your drinks, followed by stirring the cocoa mix into your mugs and then waiting for it to cool.

“Are they finished, yet? It’s not like we’re making “cold cocoa” anyways,” Riki sighed, leaning over the counter on his elbows.

“Well if we add the marshmallows now, they’re just gonna melt again, see?” You said, grabbing one of the cups to take a sip, “I mean, it’s not as hot anymore, though, if you’re just tired of waiting.”

Upon saying that, Riki just stared at you for much longer than necessary, holding back a smile as his eyes glittered with amusement.

“W-what?” You asked, poking him on the shoulder which only made him laugh out loud this time.

“It’s the braid you did, isn’t it?,” you continued with a pout. He shook his head at your words, walking up to you and taking your face in one of his hands, swiping some moisture from your upper lip with his thumb before tasting it himself.

“You had a milk mustache, silly,” he smiled softly, eyes not leaving your lips as he licked his own, leaning in with a soft kiss.

Humming into the embrace, a smile creeped upon Riki's face as your hand found his neck, supporting yourself against the counter for him to only pull you closer.

“Riki~,” you mumbled while disconnecting your lips, “where’d all that come from?” you asked, still in a daze as you felt heat rush to your face.

He bit his lower lip, looking you up and down through hooded eyes as his hands rested on either side of the countertop, caging you in before his intimidating frame.

“Nowhere,” he smirked, pecking you one last time on the corner of your mouth before continuing, “your lips taste like hot cocoa and I just couldn’t resist.”

Playfully smacking your boyfriend’s chest, he released you from his arm cage, watching as you went back to the other counter, shaking marshmallows in both your mugs before sealing the bag closed.

He took so much delight in seeing how flustered you appeared now. You even fumbled with your fingers as you tried closing the bag all thanks to his actions.

“Are you sure you don’t want something cold to drink instead? You seem warm all of a sudden,” he teased, wiping the spilled remnants of sugary mix from the countertop with a napkin.

“Do I? Maybe it’s because you keep looking at me like this,” you teased back, dramatically reenacting the way he looked at you earlier, biting your lip to seal the deal.

He laughed with his entire body, leaning over the counter as soft giggles rumbled from his body. But then, his cocky side returned.

“Is that the only thing I did that got you flustered, or is there more?” He asked, voice deepening slightly as his piercing gaze scanned you once again.

“Hmm… well… you also touched me like this,” you said, cupping his face in your hands, “and then I nearly fainted when you kissed me like there was no tomorrow!”

“No tomorrow, huh? That sounds romantic,” he smirked, trying to mask how giddy you were making him feel in this moment even though the pink hue staining his cheeks and ears made it impossible to hide.

“That’s because it was romantic, Riki,” you smiled lovingly, kissing your finger and placing it on his rosy nose before walking back to the living room, warm mugs in both your hands as you returned to your seats on the cozy couch.

The same place you knew Riki would eventually start to kiss you again the moment you sat your cup down.

❆ Thank you for reading this quick little fic, and special thanks to my bbygirl for requesting this !!

❆ Feel free to check out more cute and fun reads like this at the pinned post on my blog :3

❆ Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @noodlesimp @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @star-yawnznn

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frvnkcastles · 7 months

Text

YOUR HEAD’S ONLY MEDICINE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You and Frank bond over tattoos.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, reader lost a friend to suicide, past self-harm, implied bad relationship with parents, fluff!!!!

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: My god this is SO self-indulgent!! I just really love tattoos and I have one of Frank and I often wonder how he’d react to it so this came to life. Maybe someone else can relate :) Also I know I’ve been very slow at writing your requests but rest assured I have seen them and I am trying my best <33

Only a year ago, a knock on your door near midnight would have sent you to an early grave, but now, with Frank in your life, you had come to expect it. On yet another night when you had already changed into your coziest shorts and fluffiest socks in preparation for bed, the familiar sound alerted you from the kitchen, and with quiet movements, you shuffled to the peephole only to confirm what you already suspected — a bloody Frank Castle awaited on your doorstep.

”Hey, sweetheart.” You were met with his raspy voice once you parted the door just enough for him to slip inside, like a secret in the shadows of the night that you wanted to hold from your neighbors. How scandalous would it be if they found out that New York’s most wanted was your nightly visitor?

”Is it bad?” you asked, well-aware that he wouldn’t be coming to you at this hour if he didn’t need your help. The groan that rose from his throat as he moved to the couch was your answer, and with a struggle, he fought his jacket off of his broad shoulders and revealed the gash on his bicep, his shirt torn where the blood trickled down.

”Could be worse”, he grunted, ”just happened to be nearby and figured you’d do a prettier job than me.” You sensed the deadpan humor in his voice, and it got a grin from you as you trailed to the bathroom where you had hidden your first aid kit. Once you were armed with the supplies, you made your way back to Frank and sat down next to him, curious but concerned eyes inspecting the wound on his arm.

As you lifted your own arm to pull at the loose threads of his shirt and reveal the wound better, Frank’s eyes caught the protective wrap around yours, concealing the new ink on your skin that had turned into an irritated red at the very beginning of its healing journey.

”That a new one?” he acknowledged the tattoo with a curt nod, and for a second, you wondered what he was referring to, but once you found his stare locked on your arm, you nodded.

”Got it a few days ago. Pretty cool, huh?” you smiled while getting back to work, and humming, Frank continued to study the intricate art all over your arm. He forgot all about the pain on his own body as he scanned every piece, the way he had done before, as well. He often got lost in it, and his curiosity about the stories behind them. You had shared a few, but some of them still remained a mystery to them. Sometimes he remembered the thigh tattoo you had mentioned but never shown, and his mouth would go dry at the mere thought.

”Yeah”, he finally replied, ”pretty cool.”

Somehow, it became a habit. Every time he’d visit you, bloodied and bruised, he’d focus on your tattoos, trailing your arms and hands as well as your legs, and on a few special occasions he got a glimpse of the one on your back and just an inch of the one on your thigh. He couldn’t explain the strange attraction he felt to them, but he couldn’t deny that as beautiful as you were without them, they made you… well, you. They completed you, in a way that he hadn’t realized tattoos could do, but seeing you with them was a confusing mixture of adoration and a massive turn-on.

”Another one?” Frank noted the new ink on your shoulder on yet another routine night, and although you knew he was truly intrigued by your tattoos, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the words that sounded almost disapproving.

”Starting to sound like my dad, Frank”, you sang teasingly, and with a grimace, the man mustered a chuckle out, as well.

”Shit, we definitely don’t want that”, he remembered your strained relationship with your parents, before adding, ”I like it. Suits you.”

Smiling, you finished cleaning the gash on his back before offering him his shirt and giving his bare skin a lingering look. ”You ever think about getting tattoos? I think they’d suit you”, you pointed out, unable to resist tracing your fingers down the blank canvas of his body, from his shoulder blades over to his biceps. Frank shivered, and you noticed — although you were both used to you touching him by now, there was a line between medical and intimate that you were currently dancing on.

”Thought about it”, Frank shrugged, licking his lips as he considered whether or not he should continue. ”Thought I’d get one for… uh, y’know. My family. But I dunno, what’s the point?” he elaborated, and looking up from his muscled back, you gave him a sympathetic look.

”I think that’s a sweet idea. It can be very cathartic, you know”, you noted before extending your arm to him and pointing out the small but significant tattoo in the crook of your elbow. ”I got this for my friend after she passed. It helped me process and come to terms with what happened. I managed to let go of a lot of guilt, too”, you explained in a quiet voice. Tenderly, Frank brushed a thumb across the semicolon needled into your skin, and when he met your gaze, he saw the sadness in your eyes despite the smile you flashed him.

”Also… I know you like to punish others but also yourself. And there’s something about the pain, you know? It feels good, in some weird way”, you added before gesturing at the flowers that you had gotten a year ago to cover your self-inflicted scars. ”Helped me stop hurting myself in other ways, at least.”

Nodding in understanding, Frank continued to trace your skin with gentle fingers. ”You did good”, he whispered, before swallowing thickly. ”’M glad you found somethin’ to help you. For what it’s worth, I dunno that you’d be you without all of ’em”, he gestured at you, and with a new, sincere smile, you patted him on the back.

”Well, if you ever decide to get one, I’d happily come and hold your hand through it”, you beamed, and with a chuckle, Frank nodded.

”I’mma keep that in mind.”

After that night, his visits became more scarce. You were friends, sure, but he didn’t owe you anything — so why did him being away for so long hurt so much? It felt sick and twisted, but you missed stitching him up, missed him being a bloody mess on your couch. You found yourself waiting and expecting every night, but eventually, the knocks stopped coming. And soon enough, he didn’t come back at all.

It hurt, and you wondered if he was okay — if he was even alive. You had his number, but you knew it was only for emergencies and you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself. It wasn’t fair of you to assume his world revolved around you, but how had yours started to revolve around him?

A month went by without any sign of him, and then, one day, you came home to a letter on your doorstep. With bated breath, you broke the envelope and unfolded the letter within, and at the sight of Frank’s handwriting and a quickly scribbled ”Hey, sweetheart”, your heart flipped and your lips twitched into an involuntary smile. It was brief but sweet, detailing how he had go into hiding and keep low contact, but with promises to be back as soon as he could. He even told you he missed you, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fill with giddiness at the thought.

And at the very bottom of the page was a haphazardly drawn skull to sign for the letter, and you instantly knew what you had to do.

Two weeks later, there was a knock on your door at midnight, and you leaped in the knowledge it could only be one person. When you did, in fact, find Frank waiting in the hallway, you let your instincts drive you and without hesitation, you threw yourself in a tight hug. You wrapped your inked arms around him and squeezed, fearing he would slip away from you yet again. Frank relaxed into the hug slowly but surely, his arms coming to rest around your waist to hold you against his chest, his lips colliding with the top of your head as you embraced.

”Missed you too.”

Exhaling heavily, you pulled back and gave him a concerned look. ”Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt—”, you began, but Frank cut you off with a shake of his head.

”Hey, ’m okay. Just wanted to see ya”, he admitted bashfully, his dark eyes glancing at his feet and then back to you, ”woulda brought you flowers if the shop downstairs had still been open.”

Heat crawled up your cheeks, and you dodged his gaze as you stepped aside to let him inside your apartment. Without another word, he stepped across the threshold and began shrugging off his jacket, and in an instant, your heart jumped — he planned on staying, then?

”Can I get you anything?” you asked, unexplainably nervous as you closed the door and left yourself in a private space with Frank, the tension high in the room.

”Nah, ’m good”, Frank grunted before giving you a shy look. ”Did you, uh, get my letter?” he questioned, seeming just as awkward as you, and it made you smile. Surely most people didn’t know the Punisher could be so endearing.

”I got it. It was really sweet”, you reassured before stepping closer to him. ”Actually… I kind of… did a thing”, you added, and with a cocked eyebrow, Frank studied your face but for once, he couldn’t read your expression.

”Somethin’ good?” he wondered, and with a chuckle, you shrugged.

”You tell me”, you stated simply before rolling up your sleeve and revealing your newest tattoo — the skull he had drawn for you, identical from the letter, now forever on your wrist, always there to remind you of him and the things he made you feel.

Stunned and speechless, Frank stared at your wrist before looking up at you in disbelief. Softly, he caressed the healing picture with his thumb, sending a chill down your spine as his rough fingertip drew a pattern across your skin. He took his sweet time, and you couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, driving you crazy.

”It’s permanent?” he spoke up eventually, his dark eyes meeting yours, and with a swallow, you nodded.

”It’s permanent”, you confirmed before letting your courage guide your tongue, ”I hope you’re permanent, too.”

Frank looked at you, quiet and contemplative, but eventually, he inched closer to you and reached for your jaw. His thumb rubbed your chin and he deliberately gave you the chance to pull away — but you didn’t. And so, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours for the very first time, in the softest and most tender kiss imaginable. He was careful, as if worried he’d hurt you, and you wanted him to let go of that idea, so you pressed into him harder and kissed him more feverishly, hoping he’d get the hint.

His hand fell from your jaw to your neck, and he craned his head while deepening the kiss, his tongue grazing your lip as he sealed his body against yours. He kissed you hard and with every pent-up feeling he had been holding out on you, and you met him with equal fervor until your lips were swollen and your breath difficult to catch.

”Love it”, Frank breathed out when he pulled away, his stare falling to your tattoo again. ”Love all of ’em. But this one especially. Shit, I’m… I’m real flattered, y’know?” he struggled to find the right words, and with a smile on your pink lips, you nodded.

”I like to immortalize everything that’s special to me”, you pointed out, and with half a smile, Frank cast a shy look downwards.

”About, uh, me being permanent…”, he began, and anxiously, you waited for him to continue. Eventually, he did.

”I’d like that, sweetheart.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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mostmouse · 1 year

Note

Hi I’ve seen your work and love how you write for kyojuro! Can you write a kyojuro x reader where the reader is pregnant and how he spoils her during her pregnancy in many ways *hint* *hint* and maybe a scene where after there daughter is born some bigot says that he “wouldn’t forgive his wife for having a girl” and kyo is like wtf dude and puts him in his place to defend his wife and daughter.

This got away from me a little bit, but I hope you still like it! its a tiny hint of yandere, if you look :)

A Proud Father (AO3)

(Kyojuro Rengoku x f!reader, explicit, threat of violence, slight yandere, 4,100 words)

Kyojuro couldn't be prouder or more in love with his beautiful wife and daughter. He has his little brother and best friend visit as well, and only loses his cool for one moment when a drunkard insults his two girls.

Kyojuro rubbed his hand across your round belly, voice hot as he whispered in your ear. You panted next to him, his chest pressed flush against your back as your leg was curled back over his hip. The fluffiest pillow you had was tucked under your tummy, supporting it as he lovingly rolled his hips against you, filling you up.

Moaning softly, your heavy eyes fought to stay open. “My little flame is so sleepy. It’s alright if you pass out, my love. I promise to take good care of your body and our little one while you’re resting.” You whined at his breathy words, hot kisses trailing the back of your neck.

“Kyo~” He groaned, your voice washing over him like velvet. The both of you moaned loudly as he thrust inside of you roughly, his apologies falling over you as you gripped the pillow next to your head. “P-Please, more, like th-ahh!”

You keened sharply as Kyojuro pressed tighter to you, strong arm winding around you like a tree trunk as he bucked his hips. “You’re tempting me more than you know… I don’t want to hurt the baby, but fuck- you’ve been so insatiable the last few weeks.” His words were in his usual loving tone, his hand gentle, but he pounded you a bit harder. Anchoring his feet and knee, he slipped his swollen thick cock deep inside you.

You gasped under him, moaning wantonly. Hands leaving the pillow, you gripped your heavy breasts in your palms, whimpering as your body bounced. “K-Kyo!” He panted behind you, and you knew he was close. Even after you climaxed twice on his hands, once in his mouth, and only a handful of moments ago, you still felt yourself tightly wound up, mouth watering at the feeling of his cock inside you.

“D-Don’t- ah! Don’t stop! Please, please, please don’t stop!” Kyojuro laughed breathless behind you, arm propping himself up as he fucked you. You whimpered, words slurring on your tongue as you tried to spread your legs wider, almost sobbing as he slipped just a bit deeper inside of you.

He groaned, hand leaving the soft, warm curve of your tummy and instead rubbing your clit with his rough and calloused hands. Panting right by your ear, you cried out as he brought you to another climax, your clit sensitive and overstimulated. Kyojuro bit your shoulder, muffling his cry as you tightened almost painfully around him.

Every night this week had been almost the same routine, though the positions and locations often changed. He couldn’t count how many times he’d gotten you off, and yet you would still look up at him with such pleading eyes, begging him to blow his load inside you and to help you cum.

His hand left your puffy clit, instead gripping the sheets tightly as he helped you ride out your high. The only thing on his mind was making sure you were happy and satisfied, that you felt as beautiful and perfect and attractive as before you were this heavily pregnant. Your cries and moans were music to his ears as he rocked inside you. However, the more salacious your sounds were getting, the harder it was to hold himself back.

With a tight groan, he kissed the shell of your ear. “Where do you want me to- ahh! Fi-Finish, my little- hahh~” Whimpering, he listened as you hummed delightedly, hips moving against his, not quite flexible enough anymore to grind.

“Inside~ Fuck, Kyo, please~” Drool wet the pillow under your mouth, eyes finally closing as your worn out body came down from your continuous orgasms. Your brows pinched upwards as your large husband adjusted you, turning you to be more on your back. You whined, the strain on your belly uncomfortable without your pillow, but Kyo’s voice was hot in your ears.

“Ju-Just for a moment, my love, fuck!” His hands held your hips gently, not enough to leave marks but just to keep you in place. You cried out loudly as he pounded you fast and hard, gripping his hands as you tried to arch your back. “Fuck, fuck! You feel amazing, my sweet little flame- ahh! So perfect around me- take all this cum, baby, it’s only for you.”

He bit your shoulder, moving along your neck and leaving light marks. His hips slammed against yours roughly until he cried out, back arching the both of you upwards. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back and a sudden wave of satisfaction hitting you. You went limp in his grip, feeling his cum pool inside you.

As he came back down, he gently laid you back on your side, readjusting the pillow and your legs before he gently slipped out of you. Laughing at your sleepy whines, he kissed your cheek and the corner of your mouth before snuggling in behind you, tugging the blankets up with his feet. “I’m sorry, sweetness, but I can’t stay inside you like this. It’s not comfortable for you anymore.”

His voice was soft, his legs tangling with yours and holding you just until you fell asleep, then he’d get something to clean the both of you up. He didn’t want you to be sticky and feeling gross, but in the later months of your pregnancy, you were near tears when he was away from you - even a trip to the bathroom was too far for your tastes.

You whimpered, wiggling against him, words jumbled together as you tried to speak to him. Kissing your jaw, he moved down and sucked small marks into your neck and shoulders. “I’ll be right here, I promise. And when you wake up, I’ll be right here as well.”

You sighed contentedly, making other sleepy noises as you snuggled in and gently fell asleep. Kyojuro stayed by your side as promised, only sneaking away to get a cloth to clean you up and some water and snacks.

Then, one fateful sunny afternoon, the big day arrived. Kyojuro was next to you, holding onto you with a bright smile on his face, telling you how great you did and how beautiful the baby was. She had thick blond hair, and wide brows. You had laughed so happily you cried once you saw the little bundle, holding her to your bare chest.

Kyojuro had cried as well, tears slipping down his cheeks as he couldn’t help but smile. He had sent his crow moments ago with the good news for Master and the other hashira to rejoice in. The two of you were quiet now, holding onto each other and passing your sweet daughter back and forth.

The hours went by, and as you slept, he helped maneuver your daughter on your chest, letting her eat before he went and got food for the both of you. He had set up your birthing bed in the living room, piling futons atop each other on the tatami and burrowing you inside of them.

He felt much better knowing that he could see you from all over the house. The bathroom, the kitchen, the outdoors. You were at the center of it all with the newest addition to your family. Smiling to himself, he thought of Senjuro - he hadn’t sent his crow to his little brother, instead he wanted to tell him in person and bring him to your home.

He knew you would be thrilled, you had told him before giving birth how you wished you had your child in your arms already so you could show them off to all the demon slayers, hashira, Master, and especially Senjuro. In fact, you had asked Kyojuro if he could set up a spare room so that Senjuro could stay if he’d like to - as long as he didn’t mind the crying that was sure to come.

However, your sweet bundle so far was a quiet unfussy little ember, resting adorably in her mother’s arms, big eyes looking up at him occasionally. The little girl had your eyes, your nose, and was closer to your complexion than his. Clenching his fists, with an unflappable smile on his face, he went outside silently, leaving the door open so he could still see you as he walked into the yard.

Clapping his hands over his mouth, he leaned forward and screamed into his palms. He was too energized, too excited, too much for the sleeping pair in the family home. Pulling his hair, he kicked his leg, digging up dirt as he grinned almost painfully.

Keeping his eyes on his two girls, he focused on breathing exercises Mitsuri had taught him that she used when she got too excited as well. Counting in his head, he finally felt his heartbeat slow down and his body become just a few degrees cooler. Sighing, his smile softened, new tears clinging to his lash line as he approached the house once more and got another look at the two of you.

After a few days passed, Kyojuro invited Tengen to the home, telling the other hashira they could come soon but to still give his beloved time to heal and adjust. Both you and Tengen were sitting together in the living room, you had finally moved from your nest to a rocking chair and were nursing the baby while he sat in the doorway. His gems clinked in the wind, soft eyes watching you closely and subtly.

Kyojuro had left the house to collect Senjuro from his family’s estate. He had told you he wouldn’t tell him you had already given birth, wanting to see his face when he saw your daughter. Tengen had laughed boisterously, clapping Kyojuro on the back as the two of them joked. Your heart had swelled in adoration, seeing your husband with his close friend and ally, living as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

You were tired, being awake at odd hours feeding the baby as well as the fatigue of giving birth to a human person. “You can rest up, I’ll make sure she doesn’t fall out of your arms.” Tengen’s soft low voice called out to you, and you blearily blinked at him. “Kyojuro and his brother will be a while, Senjuro isn’t that tall after all, he can’t keep up with his big brother’s strides yet.”

The two of you laughed, your baby gurgling in your arms. Looking down at her, you made eye contact with the sound hashira once more, “Want to hold her? She should be tired now that she’s gotten her fill. I wouldn’t mind crawling back into the blankets without her for just a little while.”

Tengen blinked before grinning widely. “I wouldn’t mind at all, please.” He took her gently from your weak arms, huffing in laughter as they fell right back to your sides as you relaxed fully. “She’s so small… By the gods, what an amazing gift.”

You hummed, getting up before sinking down to your knees, crawling into the futon and flopping down. Afterall, there was no need for dignity in front of Kyojuro’s best friend, not when you knew the man had three wives, surely he was used to such domestic antics. Heaving a heavy sigh, your tired eyes fell on the two of them as he sat back down, looking at the little girl in his arms and feeling something stir inside him.

“Isn’t she wonderful? She’s nearly the spitting image of her daddy. I bet he's proud beyond all reason. What did he say when he invited you here?” Tengen grinned, biting his lip to keep from being too loud with a baby in his arms.

“Just that I needed to prepare myself to see the most beautiful little girl this world has ever seen. I bet he was even more awestruck getting to see her than he was with his own brother’s birth.”

The both of you laughed, indeed even at a young ago, Kyojuro was amazed when Senjuro was born. The same sort of amazement probably possessed him as he witnessed his own daughter’s birth. The two of you laughed and chatted softly, Tengen smiling in relief once you fell asleep. He was aware of how exhausted you looked, he had never known you to slow down for even a second, the perfect match for the energetic flame hashira. Turning his attention back to the little bundle, he stroked her short thick hair, admiring her little nose and tiny mouth.

You were right, she was fat and happy and completely easy to deal with. He hoped she would be a good baby for the two of you. Pinching her cheeks, he laughed softly as she batted his hands as if she were a small kitten. Her only other sibling, the cat you and Kyojuro shared, was resting on your blankets, keeping a watchful eye on baby and mother.

Humming softly, he held your daughter as you slept. Slowly, the sun made its way through the sky and he could hear Kyojuro’s voice in the distance. Grinning to himself, he slipped around the corner of the door, leaving one foot out so Kyojuro would notice immediately but still able to surprise Senjuro.

The front doors slid open, the two brothers talking excitedly with each other, as they slipped off their shoes. Stepping up the entryway, Kyojuro smiled softly as he saw you asleep in the blankets. Senjuro smiled, tilting his head, “Should we come back, brother? She looks really tired.”

Kyojuro grinned, catching Tengen’s foot by the open door, “I would think she would be busy, considering…” He let his words trail off, the obvious sign for his best friend as he rounded the corner, blond baby in his arms.

“Considering she just helped this little one come into the world! Say hi to your niece, Senjuro.” Tengen was all grins as he watched the youngest Rengoku brother’s eyes widen as big as dinner plates. Walking up to the both of them, he winked at Kyojuro before sinking to one knee, presenting the little girl to Senjuro.

Senjuro balked, looking up at his brother. Kyojuro nodded, kneeling down and placing an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, “It’s okay, you can hold her. I know you’ll protect her, little brother.”

Swallowing, Senjuro held out his arms, marveling as Tengen placed the baby with him before letting her go. Senjuro teared up, big drops dripping down his cheeks as he looked at the little girl. Sniffling, he looked to Kyojuro, “She’s… She’s your baby. Your child.” Looking down again, he heard Kyojuro and Tengen laugh softly, his brother’s hand resting atop his head.

“Yes, she’s my daughter. And she’s your family too, Senjuro. Should anything ever happen to me… Could I ask you that you show her the same love I would?” Senjuro’s eyes met Kyojuro’s, “I haven’t brought up anything with her yet, I know such a question would upset her terribly, especially so soon after the birth. But it’s something I need to know, for my own sanity. I’m sorry for asking such a thing of you, little brother.”

His eyes were soft as he gazed down at Senjuro, the spitting image of himself - of their father. However, unlike their father, Senjuro’s eyes lit brightly, a flame dancing within them, “I swear to you, brother! No matter what happens, I will always love her and protect her, I won’t ever let anything happen to either of them.” His face was steely in determination, and for a moment, Kyojuro realized his brother had grown much without him being there.

Fresh tears in his eyes, he didn’t fail to notice how Senjuro said ‘either’ of you, and his soul warmed knowing that he would be there for you, too. Hugging his little brother and new baby girl, he sobbed quietly. “I know you will. Thank you, thank you so much Senjuro. I’m so proud of you.” Leaning back he ruffled his hair before kissing his forehead, smiling down once more, “When did you grow into an honorable young man? You make me so proud to be able to call you my brother.”

Senjuro’s eyes welled up once more, and with a laugh Tengen took the baby from his arms, letting Senjuro hug his brother close, the latter lifting him into his arms and laughing delightedly. Tengen turned to face you, hearing you rustle in your blanket fort and sit up. Your hair was a mess, your kimono wrinkled and crooked, but you smiled as if you were the most blessed woman in the country. Though, he supposed you were. Kyojuro was the most amazing man he knew.

Once you welcomed Senjuro, holding the baby in your arms once more and feeding her, the Rengoku brothers were kind enough to cook something for the four of you, Tengen helping where he could, mostly fussing over you as you waddled about, kimono loose and tiredly dazed.

Once all of you had a nice hot meal together, passing the baby around so everyone could get their fill, it was finally evening and Senjuro wanted to go home for a couple days to collect his things before joining the two of you to stay for a bit. Tengen was once again alone with you as the Rengoku brothers left.

You had a nice chat, but apologized as you were growing more and more fatigued after the eventful evening. Tengen assured you that it wasn’t a problem, that he was more than happy to get to spend time with the baby as well, and you couldn’t help but grin. “Kyo always talks about how you’re as close as brothers, so honestly,” You yawned, nestling back up in your blankets, “I consider you family as well, she’ll be so thrilled… to get to know… her uncle Tengen.”

Tengen stood there, shocked expression on his face as you snored softly in your makeshift bed. Blinking rapidly, he looked down at the baby in his thick arms. “Kyojuro’s brother… family… niece…” Expression warming, his heart beat loudly in his chest. Leaning down, he kissed the little girl on her forehead, moving to sit outside on the engawa and looking up at the dusk stars. “Maybe… I could have a big family, too.” Looking down at her, “Would you want a lot of cousins?”

She giggled in his arms, flapping her tiny hands and little eyes watching everything around her. Soft smile on his face, he looked back up to the sky. “Yeah, me too. Maybe I’ll talk to Hina, Makio, and Suma about it.” Keeping one ear out for your breathing, and the other focused on the little bundle in his arms, he let himself get lost in the stars thinking about his retirement.

Meanwhile, Kyojuro waved at Senjuro as he walked out the estate gate. He had tried to talk to his father about his granddaughter, but once again, he was too intoxicated to hold a proper conversation. Wishing him well, he had walked back to the door with Senjuro. Grinning, he closed the gate before taking off.

Sprinting through the woods as a shortcut, he basked in the feeling of being in his uniform again, the comforting weight of his katana at his side. He figured he would do a quick patrol around the area to make sure there weren’t any signs of demons in the vicinity, just for his own peace of mind.

Once he had his fill, he stopped at the night market, shopping around for something sweet to bring home to you and Tengen. Browsing the stalls, he sniffed the air, trying to find something on the wind, possibly. However, in the corner of his eye, he saw a man giving him a harsh look.

Hair bristling for some reason, he decided to approach him, cautious of the feeling at the back of his mind. The man scoffed, taking a swig from the jug in his hand and turned to go down the alley. Kyojuro kept his face neutral, following him before they were out of the general marketplace.

Watching the man closely, Kyojuro smiled, “Hello! I couldn’t help but notice you earlier. Is there something I can help you with, or perhaps, did you need something?” The man sneered up at him, his breath so heavy with alcohol it almost had Kyojuro retching.

“Yeah, actually.” He practically spit the words out, disrespectful glare aimed towards Kyojuro, “Heard you were a big shot demon slayer, and yet all that little whore could give you was some bitch of a daughter. I wouldn’t stand for my heir to be a-” Kyojuro’s vision flashed red, livid anger rising within him in the blink of an eye.

He wasn’t one much for physical violence between humans, but with how this man was acting, he was even less than a demon. Kyojuro’s hand wrapped around the drunkard’s neck, the jug of sake dropping and breaking, splashing alcohol all over his shoes. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he stared at the man, lips in a straight line.

“If you ever speak of my wife or daughter again, in any way, I’ll kill you.” Bringing him closer to his face, his voice turned gravelly, “After all, I’m a big shot demon slayer - all I would have to do is say you were a demon and burn you alive. Nobody would spare a thought about it.”

The man floundered in Kyojuro’s grasp, hands weakly pulling at his as he coughed and choked. “Do I make myself clear?” As the man continued to sputter, Kyojuro’s hand tightened, threatening to crush the man’s throat.

As he nodded, gurgled voice incoherent, Kyojuro dropped him, watching as he crumpled at his feet in the sake soaked dirt. As the man looked up at him, he shuddered as all he could see were Kyojuro’s bright eyes fixated on him, not once having closed or even blinked. “If I ever see you again, you’re dead. Stay out of my way, and stay away from my family. I’ll know.”

With that, Kyojuro turned on his heel and left the alley, stepping back into the clear moonlight. As he took a calming breath, he grinned once more, ruffling his hair as he caught the eye of a stall owner. “Good evening, miss! Do you perhaps have anything for a tired wife who has just given birth to the most beautiful baby girl in the world?”

The lady, flustered by Kyojuro’s good looks and earnest words, forgot all about his dark expression as he walked out of the alley, dismissing it as her imagination. No one paid any mind to the man who went down the alley and didn’t return. Instead, he slunk off into the darkness, hands jittery and mind fogged over with fear.

Once Kyojuro found something for all three of you, he hurried back to his home. Greeting Tengen, whose eyes were mysteriously bloodshot, he smiled as you slept away in the bed. Sitting everything down, Tengen brought Kyojuro his daughter, unpacking the few things for his friend before wrinkling his nose.

“Your dad throw booze on you?” Snorting, Kyojuro took a deep breath, holding his daughter up and kissing her face.

“No. Some drunk in town thought he could badmouth my wife and child, so I showed him what would happen if he ever opened his mouth again.” His words were even, no anger in them, as if he were talking about the weather. Tengen blinked before grinning, clapping Kyojuro on the shoulder that didn’t have his daughter on it.

“Good on ya, tell me what he looks like and I’ll give him a warning, too. Can’t ever be too sure who’s watching, you know?” Tengen grinned, and felt his own anger inside him. He knew how possessive Kyojuro was over you, how he fawned over you, and especially how proud he was of you and now his new child as well.

He wasn’t surprised in the least, eagerly listening to the description of the drunk man who insulted you and his niece. Talking a bit more, Tengen took a bite of the dango Kyojuro brought home, wishing him a good night and then set out. Kyojuro smiled, relaxing and reassured that Tengen would find the man and also rough him up a bit.

Bringing his daughter to you, he set the baby down in her own blankets for tummy time, and quickly stripped himself down, tossing the laundry somewhere else where the smell of sake wouldn’t bother you. Grabbing some dango, he crawled into the blankets, giving another look to his child, before shaking you awake. “Want some sweets, my sweet?”

You laughed softly, not bothering to open your eyes. “Tengen gone?” Kyojuro hummed and you snuggled up to him, “I would love some sweets, maybe even a few kisses as well.” Your eyes cracked open a bit, admiring your husband’s broad shoulders and fit scarred chest.

The flame hashira smiled down at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “Of course, my flame. Anything for you, anything at all. All you need to do,” He kissed your nose, “Is ask.”

#rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #kny #kyojuro rengoku

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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

Text

Only for you

Pairing | Husband!Soft!Ransom Drysdale x Pregnant!Wife!Female!Reader

Word count | ~ 570 words

Summary | Being seven months pregnant is challenging, but suffering from underlying mental health issues isn't helping. Luckily, you have a very thoughtful, loving, and caring husband by your side who will take care of your every need when you can't do it.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Established relationship (husband and wife), Reader is going through a tough time, soft!Ransom is the best husband, all the fluffiest fluff ahead.

A/n | @katherineswritingsblog: Thank you so much for the request for cuddles with Soft!Ransom, I could use some of him after I've been in a downward spiral with my writing and mental health. It may not be my best work, for which I apologize, but I hope you will enjoy it 🖤

A/N 2.0 | This one shot takes place in the same universe as Mommy's good boy. You don't need to have read that one to understand this, but I'd recommend you check it out if you want to!

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Ransom woke up early today, which in and of itself wasn't really out of the ordinary since he's an early riser, but the fact that he's making breakfast in bed for you is exceptional.

He's never been one to be busy in the kitchen, but ever since you've been going through a rough patch during your pregnancy, he's been taking care of you on the days when you can't do it. He's been going above and beyond for a while, but this morning, he'd keep it simple to not overwhelm you.

He's been making waffles with whipped cream, caramel sauce, some strawberries and raspberries on the side, and a steaming cup of your favorite tea.

In the meantime, you've woken up to find Ransom missing, but you're not in the right headspace to worry about it too much, though you did have to make a beeline to the bathroom since your daughter is pushing on your bladder. Being seven months pregnant has its downside, after all.

''Are you awake, Cookie?'' Ransom asks as he pushes open the door to the master bedroom. You let out a content hum from your side of the bed as you sit against the headboard with a few pillows behind your back, your hands softly rubbing your belly.

''Did she wake you up again?'' he asks as he walks in, the tray with food in his hands, and you nod as you give him a small smile.

''Sorry for not getting up yet, but I don't think I can do it today,'' you sigh, but Ransom shakes his head carefully as he puts the tray on his nightstand and bends down to kiss your head.

''You never have to apologize for not feeling well, Cookie. You're not going through an easy time while also carrying her, and I'm more than happy to take care of you in whatever way you need,'' he says, and a smile tugs on the corners of your mouth.

''Since when did you become such a softie?'' you say with a joking glare as he sits on the bed beside you.

''I'm only soft for you and our daughter, Cookie. You bring it out in me,'' he says before you put your hand on his cheek and let him take the lead in a mind-bending kiss, which you happily reciprocate.

''How about some breakfast? I made your favorite,'' Ransom tells you, and you nod, allowing him to feed you some waffles with whipped cream and caramel sauce in between giving strawberries and raspberries.

When all the breakfast is gone and you've drunk your tea, Ransom carefully guides you back under the comforter to ensure you're still comfortable. After removing his shirt and pants, he gets in himself so you can have some much-needed skin-to-skin contact.

''Are you comfortable, my Cookie?'' he asks, and you nod as you let yourself melt into Ransom's touch.

''Can we stay in bed all day? I don't think I can leave now that we're laying like this,'' you ask, and he tells you that he'd love to stay in bed with you all day.

Ransom's hand is lying on your belly, your fingers intertwined with his as you cuddle with him, and all your problems melt away for a little while. You don't have to worry about everything because your husband will take your every need.

''I love you, Ransom.'' ''I love you most, my Cookie.''

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale fluff

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angelic-dew · 1 year

Text

˚₊‧꒰ morning star.☆ ꒱ ‧₊˚ . !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 💌 ୧・request :: do you write for obey me? if you do, can I request Lucifer fluff? I've been craving this man vgfhdghhc if not I understand! Please stay hydrated!!

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 💫 ୧・author's note :: I've been WAITING for an obey me request! I love this game so much and nightbringer! Anyways thank you, I wish the same to you <3

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🌟 ୧・summary + word count :: just a morning cuddle session with your one and only beloved demon + 913 words. fluff.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ✨ ୧・pairing :: Lucifer x G/N reader {you/your pronouns!}

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings :: grammatical errors, nothing else I can put my finger on though!

There you and Mr. Morningstar himself were, snuggling up to each other like there's no tomorrow within the comfort and constellation of his spacious room. The air had a wonderful fragrance of solace looming through aimlessly as he held you tighter in his warm, loving embrace; you were securely locked in one place by your beloved Lucifer.

The fluffiest blanket imaginable was thrown messily on top of both of you, swaddling your bodies as if you two were infants for the first time. His darkly-coloured curtains were drawn neatly, only a small space being left uncovered by the ebony fabric.

Your leg was on top of his, as a matter a fact, both of your legs were in a knotty tangled mess as you two snuggled within the grasp of one another—both of your bodies being pressed up against the other like leeches.

It wasn't often that these times happened, but when they did come, they were irreplaceable and absolutely nothing could come close to these treasurable, precious moments you shared with the demon you loved the most in all of the three realms combined. You were so thrilled and delighted to finally be his one and only lover.

As for the avatar of pride, he was astounded by how a mere human could store such strong feelings of desire, need and love within him. He was definitely not the type to be so keen toward these types of emotions, expressions and feelings, yet you broke that one thing he wasn't very fond of. He can't even complain, you're an angel if we're in a human body; a being of perfection. Every individual one of your curves, imperfections, insecurities was out the door for him, what quality could you possibly possess for him not to love you.

You were his muse and biggest downfall, his anger, sorrow and happiness bundled up into one small being. A distraction and something he had to deal with was what he thought of you from the start. That was all to it. You were some random name he chose from out of a pile of names— piles of names to be exact, which had every name of each human being on the face of the earth. But you, you were picked.

Was it fate? destiny? faith? luck?

He could never put his finger on it directly and pin his point down. Oh, how Lucifer pined to know how could someone as sweet as yourself come into his and his brother's lives for the greater good? You, just by being you worked like magic throughout the house of Lamentation, Purgatory Hall, The Demon Lord's Castle and practically the whole of the Devildom.

You united the beings of all three realms to become one and closer together. You made it so that everyone cooperated and grew fond of each other over the short course of time. By yourself, you'd swear an angel invaded hell, but no. It was just a human, but not an ordinary one.

So, time always went on and Lucifer grew fond of you, shared his life with you and most importantly made you part of his life. A crucial part. You became not a want but a need for him, he could barely cope without his precious beloved by his side, however, he'd never admit that. He would swear to himself to keep that stuffed deep down to the deepest depths of his mind; and believe me, it's messy down there. Reluctantly, he would refuse to ever spill something so sentimental to him.

There was simply too much love bubbling inside of him for a mere human, his beloved MC.

So coming back to his senses, both of your unconscious bodies lay comfortably in each other's arms. Lucifer's eyes were sealed shut, his pale skin hiding away the mesmerizing, glassy, crimson-red orbs which are stored behind.

Soon, the day became one with the night and it was time for morning preparations, you are a pupil at RAD after all and he is the head of the student council. With that being said, he awoke promptly. His pesky eyelids finally moved out of the way to reveal such sleepy yet captivating eyes which contained glints of pure passion stored within them.

He realized the position you two were tangled in, a small, baby-pink blush ever so sneakily and gradually creeping onto his soft, bare cheeks as he was utterly enthralled by the sight bestowed before him in all of its glory.

There you were, sound asleep in the far and wide place of dreamland as he watched you. The gentle, soft rays of sunshine slowly pour through from his window onto your body. Your beautiful, luscious locks of hair resting nicely but messily in a somewhat cute state as your skin gives off a glowing effect due to the sunlight. You were like a gleaming phosphorescence. So alluring and peaceful all at once.

He watched how your body reacted to these conditions, and was still currently admiring your charming beauty. His eyes scanned you all over, from the crown of your head to the sole of your feet, all of it. He could not believe you were still all his! Every inch of you he loved with everything he could ever have in this cruel world. He didn't know what he did to deserve this or how these such feelings came about. He did know something though.

You were his Morning Star and shone brighter than any light. 🌟

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me x mc #omswd #obey me brothers #obey me swd #obey me imagines #obey me drabble #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #shall we date lucifer #lucifer fluff

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suengmi · 1 year

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can you do where boyfriend! skz are teasing w reader but say a joke that hurts their feelings and they realize and immediately apologize and make it up to you (fluff)

hi anon!! ty for being my first ask, im excited to write! not sure if you wanted full stories/drabbles but i hope you like what i did! <3 also i'm a bit unwell and drained from work so pls be kind. took so long because i ended up writing a lot for some.... like a lot OOPS i trailed off a bit to make it more realistic but asjsdkkjasd anyways im sorry if it's not exactly what u wanted ;_; i did my best, plus i didn't want to make it all the same i guess? but yeah about .6k for each member!

warnings will be written below member names!! all under the cut~

warnings for all: not completely proof read but wanted to answer this prompt asap!! i'm half asleep it's 3am pls also all gender neutral!

┋bang chan ┋

context: grocery store is never fun, especially when your boyfriend doesn't know how hard it can be for you. new!relationship, domestic bliss grocery shopping for a night in

warnings: slight ableism??? before he knows??? idk, chan a bit spicy with his words so not complete fluff my b, some cussing, not the fluffiest pls im sorry idk what HAPPENED

word count: .6k

chan grunts at you, eyes rolling, "i told you it's the wrong one you dumb dumb. "

you look down at the japanese curry powder, trying to make sense of the words written before you. you haven't been with chan for long, but he's treated you better than anyone you've ever met. he's kind, giving and always knows how to make you feel better. he knows that you're happier when it rains, he knows that you get angry whenever you lose a game, he loves that you always defeat him at uno and enjoys how you make a week long parade about it. he already loves you but definitely doesn't know it yet.

there is one thing you're still trying to gauge about chan is how sometimes he can shoot first and ask questions later, and this is one of those moments.

chan frowns, pointing at the curry packet in your hand. "this is the spicy one."

"i'm sorry." you say in a low tone, still trying to read the packet but the font is harder to read, "they look the same."

chan snatches the packet from your hand, placing it back next to the seemingly same ones. "well maybe if you read it you properly for once. i had the runs for like 2 days last time. you know me and spicy no agree."

"i can't.... sometimes."

chan turns to you. "huh?"

you take in a deep breath and speak fast, "i have dyslexia."

"what?" he questions confused.

it's then when the penny drops after a moment of silence. realization a wave over him, all the times he told you to read properly, how many times he made tut noises at your replies not having complete context and how he would grunt when you didn't comprehend something.

"why didn't you tell me? there's nothing wrong with that...?" he prods, gaze gentle towards you.

you fumble with your hands, picking at the skin at the sides of your thumb, your mind trying to find what to say. "i dunno."

he sounds so apologetic when he eventually speaks, he wonders how he could have been stupid. it makes sense. all the times you've told him about your ex and how he called you stupid and dumb for not reading well, making fun of you and saying you just don't pay attention. "i made fun of you so much... wow i'm a dick-

"no it's okay" you interrupt him, a small smile on your lips not wanting him to be hurt.

chan purses his lips while taking your hands in his. he looks at your eyes, his own intense and apologetic. "no- it's not okay, i make fun of you so much for thinking you just didn't pay attention, shit, i'm sorry. i joke all the time about how your brain is always else where."

and with that chan knows that he definitely could have picked up the pieces earlier, that you said it to him, without words. "i'm just... fuck i'm sorry."

"i just you know with my ex they-"

chan pulls you in for a tight hug, as if hushing the words you were about to spill, your glasses pushed against your eyes but you don't mind. he smells like fresh baby powder, his own scent you love mixing in with the clothes he's wearing. you know chan's going to make up for it and that he'll do everything to make you feel better. because you love him too, you just don't know it yet either.

﹋﹋﹋

┋changbin ┋

context: changbin loves working out and you love watching him, even if you don't think he doesn't know. freshly known feelings, uni!au, living together in dorm (i know you said !boyfriend but this was too good not to write hehe)

warnings: CHANGBIN SHAMELESSLY FLIRTING ACK, implications of taking a relationship further (physically), voyeur reader lmao

word count: .5k

you turn your gaze over to your friend, housemate or whatever you two had going on was called. you'd never really thought of changbin as someone you'd like, his gentle an soft nature was a contrast to the man currently a few metres away from you. weights in hand and grunts slipping from his mouth. you lean your head back to get a better angle, the veins on his arm revealing themselves. you knew he liked you and you liked him, but neither of you would dare to open that pandoras box. well, not until tonight.

it's a moment later that changbin stops his routine, almost meeting your stare. you raise your brows, attention turning back to the laptop in front of you. what on earth was i doing? you think, pretending to type something into the computer.

"thirsty?" he asks you, pretending he didn't noticed your eyes on him every now and then for the last half hour.

you turn your attention to him "wha?"

he laughs into his chest, stretching out his arms, "you have drool on the side of your mouth."

"i do- i do not!" you say slamming the laptop down, folding your arms on your chest knowing you've been caught.

changbin laughs, sitting down on the couch next to you, "didn't know i owned a dog."

you had no idea he could be this cheeky, making fun of you for simply watching him. after all, you were perving in a sense.

"don't make fun of me! i know i was... watching."

a smile dances on his lips, knowing that you can be sensitive to these things. "i'm sorry." he almost sounds apologetic... almost. "but... it's just too good to catch you out." he says in a slow almost seemingly mocking way.

"stop it." you mumble, facing the other way. "you know i have issues with... bringing this stuff up."

changbin tugs on your ear to gain your attention, feeling bad for making you feel slightly uncomfortable. but hey, you were the one watching. he smiles and says, "i know i know, i'm just teasing. i'm really sorry."

"i know but... please don't, this is hard for me."

"okay okay," he whines, gently lacing his fingers in yours, testing the waters to see if you'd be okay with this affection. "i promise i won't make fun of you, but if you wanna watch feel free to, don't have to be shy about it."

a blush dances across your cheeks and ears, your tummy suddenly feeling a knot of embarrassment grow. "changbiiiin." you groan, planting your face into the couch cushion.

"okay maybe i lied, i'll definitely enjoy making fun of you."

﹋﹋﹋

┋hyunjin ┋

context: you hate feet. hyunjin thinks it's funny. established!relationship, living together

warnings: obvi mentions of feet?? mentions of vomit

word count: .6k

hyunjin knew you hated feet, just how they looked, how they acted and gripped on the damn floor whenever someone would walk bare foot. hyunjin loved walking around the house barefoot, and it sometimes made you feel woozy, just the image of your own feet touching the floor... imagine. you shivered at the thought, sitting down on the couch next to your boyfriend, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch.

you pat your legs, instructing him wordlessly to lay on your lap. he complies without a thought, scooching back and nestling his head into your soft legs. he let's out a gentle "mm" as he settles in. "soft" he coos, rubbing his head a few times before turning his attention back to his switch.

after another episode of your favourite show, hyunjin suddenly brings his feet up, inspecting one of them. "i think i have glass in this one."

"do you need to do that here?" you say in a tone, eyes avoiding the grippers in sight.

"nah can you just check this one?" he says with difficulty, throwing his foot back towards your face. if you weren't so grossed out you'd probably be impressed by his flexibility.

"hyunjin please--" you swat away his foot with your phone, pushing yourself back into the couch.

"nah see in the big toe right here."

"hyunjin! you know i hate feet stop!"

he struggles, folding his body further to get his left foot near you, "babe just look here near the nail."

and that's when you feel a lump in your throat, nearly retching at the sight. the rice dish you had earlier suddenly feeling not so settled.

"oh shit." hyunjin says in a shock turning his attention to you, hearing your strangled noise. "are you okay?"

"no i'm not okay, go away." you say behind your hand.

shit, he knows he did wrong. his seemingly funny joke was definitely taken too far. he feels bad, real bad. he knew you didn't like feet but not this much. it'd never really come into question the time you'd been together, but god he had no idea.

"jeez i'm sorry." he's unsure where to place his hands and fumbles, words not forming correctly.

you sit in silence for a moment before regaining your thoughts. "don't. fucking. do. that."

hyunjin's eyes are pleading, the guilt in his face almost makes you not want to get him back but then realise you can use this to your advantage. you look over at the massage oils on the table and back at him. "i have an idea."

and you know he'll do whatever it takes. he still had glass in his foot, but that wasn't important right now.

------

┋felix ┋

context: felix thinks your tummy is cute, but you're just not used to it.

warnings: mentions of weight, body issues, tight clothing, BUT ITS FLUFF I PROMISEEEE, felix just a silly soft goose

word count: .6k

"come out please." felix begs, head leaning against the door.

you're sitting in the bathroom on the floor, dressed in nothing but your boxer underwear and a tight bed shirt, felix's bed shirt. you can feel the anxiety seeping into your chest, the weight of reality hitting you. you and your boyfriend had been together for only a month, but this was the first night you were staying at his house. it was on a whim, since most of the trains and buses had stopped running. and of course, you had nothing to wear. so there you were, tight shirt and all. you've never been uncomfortable with your body, if anything you love your body. but for some reason the way that felix talked about your stomach irked you. maybe he meant it as a joke? what did he mean? either way you were upset and needed space for a moment.

"please, i didn't mean it like that." felix sighs against the door, "it's soft and i love it."

you cast a sad expression towards the door. still unwavering from your position. why do you have anxiety now about this? all he did was grab your tummy and tell you it's soft like a kitten belly, or how it reminds him of those marshmallows that fold and how much he loves it because it's you, and he loves you.

you hear nothing but the cracking of a knee, felix bending down to put his fingers through the gap of the door underneath. he splays his fingers like a cat trying to get in the bathroom, darting against the tiles.

"lemme in!" he chimes, grunting to get his fingers further in. "i'll get in either way!" he jokes, using both of his hands under door to attack. it makes you laugh. it reminds me of those videos of cats wanting to get into the bathroom, or videos of racoons grabbing food.

"am i close?" he jokes, moving his hands back and forth.

you groan, stifling a laugh as you get up to open the door. "not even." you say, being met with pleading eyes. you look down at him, his hands still pretending to search where the door once was.

but he suddenly swoops you into a hug, hands around your waist, his head pressed into your soft chest, enjoying the smell of his shirt mixing in with your scent.

you relinquish any negative thoughts you have, melting into the hug. "i know you didn't mean it like that but, i think i'm just nervous... because it's you."

he pulls back, arms still wrapped round your waist, probably a bit too tight. "it wasn't a joke, i do love it." his eye are filled with nothing but love and adoration for you, your body an your mind.

"just... choose different words, please... i'm not a roll of marshmallows."

felix pulls back suddenly before gently pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "tastes sweet." he retorts about your statement, ignoring your words before kissing you again.

"i'm-seri-ous." you say between kisses, you feel his his hands digging into your hips.

instead of stopping, he grins, love apparent in his eyes. "my marshmallow."

you roll your eyes, a bit of anxiety still in your throat but knowing he adores marshmallows, you figure it's okay for now.

﹋﹋﹋

┋jisung ┋

context: a park date is cute until you get attacked my a crow, jisung think's it's funny. established!relatonship

warnings: jisung being a weenie, swearing

word count: .5k

the ground collides with your chest, the mud clouding your vision and your new shirt you brought for the date probably ruined. yep, i definitely tripped and yes it was embarrassing. you think, shame in your chest. of all the days, why your one year anniversary?

all you hear is the cackle behind you getting louder, sharp inhales of breath echoing in your ears. jisung has no shame, actively laughing at you stacking it to the ground.

"ahaha! the crow!!" he gurgles still, bending forwards over the picnic blanket, almost choking on his spit.

"jisung!" you yell, getting to your feet, seeing the mess on the front of you. that fucking crow, why did it choose me?

"jisung!" you yell louder, stomping over to the blanket, definitely covered in mud, dripping behind you as you walk.

"i'm sorry babe i'm-" he says between breathes.

you grunt before wiping the mud from your chest, still feeling it covering half of your face. "it's not funny."

"it fucking is."

jisung's laughs come to a halt as he realised you're upset upset, not just whining like you usually do. he notices how your eyes are suddenly pooling with wells. he stands to his feet and gently holds out his hands, "baby-"

"no!" you grumble, pulling your arms away, tears rolling down your cheek. "i just bought this top. now it's ruined." your dejected tone unsettles jisung, instantly feeling bad for making fun of you.

he says nothing, confused on how to react. but he waits patiently, allowing you to let out your feelings. he's always been good at this, always been patient with you.

after a breath you look back at him, red rings dancing around your eyes.

he smirks as he walks over to the mud and plainly sits down in it as if it what he was meant to do all along. you let out a small laugh, your hands wiping the rest of the mud from your face.

"what?" he asks plainly, as if nothing is weird. he grabs a handful of the mud before pressing it to his shirt, and then another handful to his hair, rubbing it in. "what's funny?"

you laugh behind your mud covered hand walking over to him. he smiles up at you like a puppy, knowing that he's succeeded in making you feel better.

and there he is, completely covered in mud, way more than you are and in that moment you fall just a little bit more in love with him. you lean down and press a gentle but muddy kiss onto his lips.

he stares up at you with nothing else to say, just sitting in the mud. you decide to join him, plopping down next to him, hand in hand as you both just sit in silence and completely covered in mud.

with jisung you didn't always needs words, sometimes the things he did for you were enough.

﹋﹋﹋

┋lee know ┋

context: you're getting ready to go out with friends, but your hair has other ideas, established!relationship, living together.

warnings/other: kisses??? idk, cuss words

word count: .5k

"it's not working!" you huff, re-straightening the side of your bangs for the 6th time. minho was confused at first, wondering why you're so upset over something trivial and small from his point of view. but when he looks up from his phone to see you struggling, his left hand still lazily patting one of his cats. he speaks without thinking,

"it's definitely like a pigs tail." he chuckles, looking back at his phone. in his mind, he assumes that he was just making a light hearted joke, thinking it was cute the way you got so upset over something he coined as small. plus, pig tails are very cute if you think about it.

it wasn't until you made a little sob that he noticed how you were actually feeling. you stare in the mirror, realizing it in fact does look like a pigs tail.

"baby-" he let's out a small but gentle sigh, "i was joking,"

"no you weren't. it... does look like a pig tail." you say between a small dejected sob, lips curled down and hands at your side as you avoid the mirror.

"let me help?" he says so gently as he approaches the bathroom door. instead of letting him help, you just melt into his chest immediately, your sobs muffled by his shirt. "i look like shit." you say defeated.

he lets out a light laugh, kissing the top of your head a few times, "you never look like shit, you know... even with your pig tail."

you step back, immediately hitting the tight muscles of his chest with both of your fists, "fuck off i swear." you talk through your teeth, still frustrated but feeling the urge to laugh in your throat.

"there you are," he says pleased at your spice, fighting with you to place a kiss on your temple, your hand starts pushing on his jaw, his lips puckered and ready. "c'mere." he says through your fingers, still pushing his head towards you, his hands gripping at your neck. "let me-- love you."

after a few minutes of roughhouse struggle, you push him back, feeing slightly better. it's in this moment you realize that you in fact do not enjoy asking anyone for help. but you speak, dejected tone apparent. "yeah... please help."

and nothing else is said while he fixes your hair, gently pressing small kisses on your cheeks as he does so. he knows he can sometimes say things without thinking, but he also knows that you sometimes enjoy just as much as he does. it's why you love him and why you two work so well together. after a few minutes he steps back to admire his masterpiece, a triumphant smile on his lips. "hmm," he ponders, "i liked the pig tail better."

"oi, don't start again you little shit" you say as you begin chasing after him, giggles dancing in with his own as he runs down the hall, nearly slipping on the rug. "get back here! you're in for it!"

﹋﹋﹋

┋seungmin┋

context: seungmin needs to shut his mouth sometimes, even if he doesn't know it. established!relationship, living together

warnings: seungmin being a spicy bitch, some playful physical aggression, kissing

word count: .5k

seungmin has you completely pinned under him on the couch as he covers you with kisses, not relinquishing his hold. "how many times do i have to say it?"

you grunt at the fact that he's weirdly strong in these situations, and as much as you struggle against his hold he's just completely powering over you. just the other day you were the one that had to help him open a jar. but thats besides the point. here seungmin is, currently trying to wiggle his way out of the fact that he took a joke too far. you're determined not to let him get away that easy.

you struggle once more against his hold, your legs flailing underneath him but he's just too damn strong.

he lets out a struggled breath, still above you. his hair falling gently from his face, "isn't sorry enough?"

you turn your head to the side, bottom lip pouting. "no."

"baby-"

you tut at him, tone almost darted, "don't baby me! you've lost your rights."

a gentle grin finds itself to dance over seungmin's face, he likes it when you fight back. he likes it when you put him in his place but still give him enough wiggle room to feel in charge.

"okay," he says with raised brows, "you win. i apologise."

you realise this is the perfect opportunity to get him back, for him making that stupid joke about something he knew you were insecure about.

"oh, whats this? kim seungmin, apologising, what was that?" you speak sarcastically. you're still under his hold, but you'll let it slide for now. "sorry i didn't quite catch that after you made me feel like shit for an entire hour. repeat?"

"i... apologise. i took it too far and i'm sorry."

you feel your chest rise, suddenly enjoying the power that seungmin has given to you. it takes a lot for him to admit he's wrong or that he's done wrong, this is just so damn satisfying.

"actually..." he trails off, letting your hands free a second before quickly grabbing the back of your neck. the kiss he planted on you was fast, and before you knew it you were laying back down on the couch, head dizzy from the sudden kiss, "you can't just make me forgive you with kisses." you speak in a semi-daze.

seungmin presses a kiss to your cheek and then a few more to your lips, the taste sweeter everytime. "i can, actually."

yeah, he's absolutely right. wait, what were we arguing about?

﹋﹋﹋

┋jeongin┋

context: jeongin fucked up, and he wants to make it better. fresh!relationship

warnings: none? kissing maybes, TOO MUCH CUTE

word count: .5k

it only took jeongin about half an hour to attempt to make it up to you.

sometimes being with jeongin was hard, as you both communicated in very different ways, it definitely was something you needed to work on. though, the one thing you loved about him is the absolute time and effort he put into making everything just perfect for you. when it came to you, everything he did for you was worth it.

after taking a walk to calm your thoughts, you realized you were still frazzled from the way jeongin teased you and how you ended up crying, resulting in him just left behind in a confused state. sometimes it took a while for the penny to drop with him, but once he got it, he really got it.

you step through the front door of his house, gently removing your sandals to be met with the sound of jeongin jumping up from the couch, hands out in a display. "ta-da!" he yells, it startles you.

you turn to meet eyes with your boyfriend, his face with a stupid grin slapped across it.

"what is-" and that's when you notice the many items splayed across the ground. there's a few towels on the lounge table, a tub of what seems to be hot soapy water, a box of facemasks and some nail polish next to it. the lighting is low and your favourite soundtrack is playing. you notice the scent in the room, jasmine tea, your favourite.

jeongin takes a deep breath in before showcasing his wares. "salon de jeongin"

"babe i-"

he steps forward, taking your hands in his before guiding you to sit down. "cmon" he coaxes gently, his beautiful dark eyes watching your every step. you say nothing as you follow him, unsure of what's happening.

as if he knows you're going to speak, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry."

you marvel at the sight in front of you once more. the fact that he built you a whole salon in his living room within thirty minutes is mind blowing. he knows your favourite scent, your favourite songs and all the products you use. you didn't even realize he had those.

you're still at a loss for words, unsure of where to put your hands or body. jeongin just points to the chair, silly grin still plastered on his face and eyes wide.

you sit down in the chair, eyes darting to jeongin. "does it cost extra for shellac on my nails?"

jeongin pouts in thought, "just a kiss."

"i can do that." you say back at him. and that's all it takes, you know you'll talk later about this and how you can communicate better but this... this was enough for now. more than enough.

"actually," jeongin ponders before leaning so damn close to your face, "i think it's about 4 kisses."

DAMN THAT WAS SO LONG I SPENT LIKE AGES DOING THIS MY BAD, i know it's not exactly what u said but oh well i wanted to make them all different!!!! ty for asking!!!!!! <3

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