#“you are more precious to me than the air i breathe or the sun on my face”

[jaembun]

you know that you feel the same.

late night beach walks are always good for stolen kisses！⠀⸻⠀huang renjun x gnr ⠀ fluff mayb a little suggestive ⠀ wc 1k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀i miss him.. i need him so bad… im just a man

the beach sands were cooler underneath his feet without the bordering-on-too-hot sun to warm them.

there was barely any other person in sight, only the faint sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the crowds talking and laughing amongst themselves back in the square, far behind him now. the only person he could really see was.. well, you. right by his side, hand clasping his tight. your body heat was enough to keep the cool breeze blowing through the night air away, even if it was only through your interlinked palms.

you were taking him.. somewhere. “the beach” was all you insisted on giving him, despite all his attempts to wheedle more information out of you. so he’d let it be, had met you outside your apartment and let you lead him downtown, through the square—to where you were now. sand underneath his bare feet. all the music and dancing and raucous conversation of the city left behind, if only for a little while.

renjun would’ve been content to simply follow wherever you went, walk as far as you wanted, until either you both got too tired or the sun started to peek over the horizon again, but it seemed you had other plans.

a sudden tug sideways had him stumbling, mouth open to protest, but all his words were silenced when he was tugged closer, closer, and then you were kissing him like he’d been wanting to kiss you again for what had felt like weeks. your back was against one of the larger rocks decorating the shore, having let go of his hand to grip the thin fabric of his shirt tight in one of yours, the other slipping under to hold onto his hip. another wave hit the shore, another song started to play, and it was all he could do to lean in further and kiss you back, hands skirting from your waist to the nape of your neck; fingers light on your skin.

you kissed until you were dizzy, until it was hard to breathe. until renjun could taste the lemon of the whiskey sour you’d had at the bar a few hours earlier, the cherry garnish on top. even with the tightness in his lungs, he couldn’t help but chase after you when you pulled away, the sound your lips made when they finally separated bringing heat to his cheeks, skin burning too hot even with the cool air brushing against it. all he could feel was your breath on his skin. no words were exchanged between you for a minute, his fingertips coming to shield the back of your head from the rock you had your back up against.

“what if you hurt yourself, stupid? be careful.”

his voice was raspy from disuse, the sound of it only making his cheeks flush redder. the only things he could see was the fire in your eyes and the white of your teeth as you grinned at him, the hand on his hip squeezing just slightly for a second, another.

“better me than you, baby.”

he tried to glare, but he doubted it came off as very intimidating—not when his lips were kissed halfway swollen, not when the only thing you could probably see in his eyes was devotion, not when he was still holding you like something precious, something he didn’t want to lose.

“just—“ his words were stuttered, arms wrapping around your shoulders. trying to pull you even closer, to mold you into one. “shut up.”

the grin was still wide on your lips, even when he pressed forward to cover it with his own. you were mouth-to-mouth, lips brushing with every word you spoke and he swallowed. “yes, sir.”

kissing again. everything else quietened around him, fell to the wayside. it felt desperate, a last-ditch attempt to stain his lips with your memory before he couldn’t anymore, like he’d die if he didn’t. and he couldn’t stop, pulling you back in after only seconds apart, gasping all sorts of words lost to the night into your mouth and moving his hands all over your skin. 

it felt like climbing to a crescendo, adrenaline racing through his veins, heart beating a quickening rhythm in his chest. renjun didn’t want to fall. he wanted to ride the high for as long as you’d let him, until the tide lapped at your tangled legs in warning and the sun started to break through the night. 

your hands—both having crawled under his shirt by now, tracing hearts and stars and senseless patterns, the letters of your own name on his skin—tightened around his hips again. “junnie.”

he refused to open his eyes, even when he felt your smirk under his lips. he pressed light little pecks to it anyway, trying his best to breathe you in. “we don’t have to—we can take it slow, you know. if you want.”

renjun shook his head, eyes finally cracking open to meet yours. it was his turn to smile, to stroke gently over the nape of your neck again and watch you shiver under the touch. “what if i don’t want?”

silence. waves, music, laughter, your mingled breaths. a helpless shrug on your part, hands thoughtlessly massaging his skin again. “then i guess we don’t have to. i was just—i don’t know. i was caught up in my own head, i guess. are you gonna kiss me some more, then, huang?”

yes, fuck, of course he was. you didn’t even have to ask. he’d kiss you all day, all night, every second he could spare. sometimes it was a little hard to believe he was even allowed to. you were everything—even while stumbling up the stairs half-drunk to your apartment, even tripping up over the uneven cobblestones that lined the pavements leading downtown, even with your eyes a teary mess and your hands clutching at his skin too tight.

so he did just that. leaned in and kissed you again, again, again. away from any prying eyes. hidden away under the moonlight, tucked in too close to one another, barely any room to breathe—exactly how he liked it, with you. it was perfect.

but then again.. he was starting to realise that he thought anything that involved you was. and the fact that thought didn’t scare him was maybe the most frightening thing of all. for now, though, he could keep kissing you until you couldn’t anymore, and leave the thinking for later.

#⠀⠀⏖ works ⊹ ᶻ ⁺⠀⠀ #⠀⠀런쥔 ⠀ ⟡⠀⠀ #huang renjun #huang renjun x reader #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #RENNNJUNNBNNNNNN

[ask-the-sagents]

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Agents 3,4,5, and 8 are now available for questions!

(Translation for Roxie in the tags 🥺❤️)

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #agent 3 #agent 8 #agent 24 #translations are as follows: #“fuck it” #“i really hope this doesn't ruin what we have” #“you are more precious to me than the air i breathe or the sun on my face” #“i just cant imagine my life without you and i-” #yeah so eden can change her ink color again they the power of gay #also ignore the inconsistencies in the art i was too tired to fix them lmfao

[soapycheeks]

— take care of you

1k words you sat there wrapped up in each other's presence, a gentle breeze brushed through the room, caressing your faces and stirring your hair. in the distance, the faint sound of gunfire echoed, serving as a sobering reminder of the world beyond that room. he cradled your face in his hands. “love…” he mumbled. “i should take you back to base…” he began, only to pause as his fingers gently traced a small cut on your cheek.

“let me treat this first…” he took your wrist and led you to a nearby table, carefully making sure you were seated. he returned moments later with a medkit, then took a seat next to you. carefully, he cleaned the wound on your cheek, his touch as gentle as a whisper. the silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by a few muttered curses under his breath as he saw just how deep the cut was.

after he had cleaned up your face, he gently cupped your face in his large hands once more. his thumb gently traced over the cut, a tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward and chastely kissed the corner of your mouth, then your chin, before returning once more to your mouth. his touch was as warm as the heat of the sun, a stark contrast to the cold metal of his dog tags and watch.

his thumb slowly glided down your chin, tracing a path towards the valley between your collarbones. his touch was gentle, almost ghostly, yet it sent tingles coursing through your entire body. his eyes met yours once more, the depths of his irises as dark as moonless skies. the intensity of his gaze almost made you feel vulnerable, yet there was a sense of safety intertwined within the tumultuous storm.

he leaned in further, capturing your lips with his own. the kiss was tender and slow, like the unfolding of a morning blossom greeting the dawn. it spoke of unspoken promises, whispered words, and a devotion that ran deeper than any river or ocean. his lips molded against yours, seeking the taste of your flesh as if it were the essence of life. his tongue gliding over your lower lip in a silent plea for you to let him in. as you relented, his tongue gently parted your lips and met yours in a gentle dance with delicate care. his touch was unhurried as he explored the sweetness of your mouth, and he tasted you with a fervor that was matched only by the fire kindling between you.

his fingers gently traced along your spine, drawing shapeless patterns that sent shivers of pleasure radiating through your body. each touch was like a tender kiss, the warmth of his fingers igniting a fiery path of pleasure. it was as if your body had become a canvas, and his fingers were the brush, painting a masterpiece of ecstasy upon your flesh.

“simon…” his name rolled off your tongue like a gentle caress, and it was as if his entire being melted with each syllable. the way you said his name, with such affection and reverence, it was like you had spoken the most beautiful words to him, each one more precious than the last. he couldn't recall a time when his name had sounded as sweet, and it made his heart ache with contentment.

his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, gently pressing his lips to the pulse point of your flesh. the subtle scent of his musk mingled with the fragrance of your skin, creating an intoxicating blend that stirred a primal hunger within him. he kissed the hollow of your collarbone, then along the curve of your throat. inaudible whisper escaped his lips. “let me carry you to your room.”

“but i can walk by myself.” you assert, he gave you a loving yet slightly exasperated look. there was no way in hell he would let you walk after all that.

“not happening,” he murmured firmly, his hands gently gripping around your legs. “you’re injured and tired. besides, i’m carrying you.” he lifted you up effortlessly, scooped you up into his arms, cradling you as if you were the most precious treasure he'd ever laid his eyes upon. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before turning and walking toward your room. he navigated the halls as you leaned against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat providing a soothing backdrop to the silence that cloaked the base. the rhythmic beat of his footsteps and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a sense of tranquility, while the smell of gunpowder and sweat clung to his shirt.

he carried you through the dim, shadowed corridors of the base, and soon reached your room. unlocking the door, he gently carried you inside and then closed the door behind him, before setting you carefully down on the edge of the bed. as he stood over you, he gently cupped your face in his hand, studying you for any signs of pain. he knew that you were strong, but he also saw how tired you looked and wanted to take care of you. he bent down and gently removed your shoes, his touch soft and caressing. once your shoes were off, he lifted your feet up onto the bed and gently tucked you under the covers, trying to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

he kissed your forehead once more, before moving to the other side of the bed. carefully, he slipped in beside you, and then wrapped his strong arms around your thin frame and pulled you close. “rest, love.” you nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a soothing lullaby. it was as if the beat of your own heart were synchronizing with his, creating a symphony of two souls coming together. he gently ran his fingers through your hair, trailed up and down your back, tracing slow patterns to soothe you and help you fall asleep.

it wasn’t long before he heard your breathing slow and knew that you had drifted off to sleep. his eyes tracing the gentle contours of your face, your lips were soft and supple, and they look faintly glossy of the cheery lip balm you'd applied, your eyelashes fluttered as you drifted in and out of sleep — you looked ethereal.

i'm a sucker for kisses

#mills's written #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #call of duty #modern warfare #cod imagine #simon ghost fluff #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #writing

[xerotiny99]

2 AM Call // Our Precious #1

2 AM Call (Our Precious series #1)

M.list ┃Next Part

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: dom!yunho, sub!reader, suggestive, sexting, phone sex, a lot of dirty talk (seriously, really filthy), masturbating, etc...

Note: if any of the above-mentioned topics trigger you then you can click off. :) also, do not proceed if you're below 18.

An Extra Note: this is a mini - or - a long series, and I'm too lazy to make a different book for it. Hence, I'll be adding all the planned/written chapters of this series in this book. It'll be in second person pov, but instead of writing [y/n] — cause I'm too lazy, really — I'll be writing Angel. So, the reader's name is Angel for this series. This series revolves around polygamy, which means the reader will be involved with ot8; the chapters will unfold slowly from the beginning and follow a storyline.

Gist: being in your sophomore year of college, you meet a very cute and handsome bookstore clerk. You happen to exchange numbers and on the same night, he's all you can think about. When you decide to ring him up, it's 2 AM and both of you have different things on your minds.

Word Count: 5,471

Lehninger.

Lehninger.

Albert Lehninger.

Principles of Biochemistry.

         You grumble under your breath, shifting your eyes chaotically around the shelves of hardcover books aligned in alphabetical order. The wooden shelves feature biochemistry books, and out of all these, you needed only one, which apparently was too hard for your eyes to search. Scorching sun outside is far less preferable than the air conditioning of the second-hand bookstore you were in, so you decide to stay in and pass a few more minutes looking through the books.

Maybe, you could find something worthwhile in store, perhaps something other than textbooks and thesis unrelated to your university work. Sighing, you bend over slightly to grasp the titles inscribed on the spines of several other books.

"It could be here, maybe." you thought to yourself.

"Hi, how can I help you?" a cheery yet raspy voice cuts through your thoughts, "are you looking for a specific book?"

Your attention turns towards the humbly speaking man, and once your gaze falls onto him, and his smile, you hold your breath. He was...ethereal; clad in a beige coloured cardigan and a white turtleneck under it, the man's demeanour was stoic and poised yet friendly and warm. Towering over and looking down at your petite stature, he smiles widely, politely waiting for you to reply. You take a minute longer to stare and notice all finer details on his face; his porcelain skin, pretty pink lips, a straight nose—almost sculpted, and his innocently shaped doe eyes just boring into yours.

There it goes without saying, you were drooling over him. He was attractive, no doubt, but the way he offered you a benign smile made your heart lurch a bit was far more beguiling than his looks. In all seriousness, it had been more than a minute or two since you had been silently checking him out; you had failed to notice the heap of books he was holding in his arms before, but now that you do, you mentally groan at his bulging arms with prominent veins on the back of his hands.

"Hello—"

"—yeah, no. I mean, I was actually looking for...Lehninger—um, biochemistry?" you stutter and ramble, lastly stringing your words into a question.

"Oh, wait. Give me a minute, I'll check it in our database." Carrying the books in his hands, he nudges you to follow him with a nod.

You do cluelessly follow him but enjoy the view of his rear; you really needed to snap out of it! He guides you to the front desk where the cash register was situated, and a computer was stowed away on the other side of it. Thump the books go, having been put down on the desk by him before he leans over the computer to type. Standing on the other side of the desk, you watch him do the work, with your arms folded over your chest.

In the heat of the moment, you're reeling back to checking him out; silverbluish hair styled in a mullet, the puffy strands kissing the collar of his turtleneck, his eyelashes batting every two seconds at the blaring computer screen—you bite down on your lip when libidinous thoughts swarm your mind. His hands, those sleek fingers pressing down the keys on keyboard...how good would those feel as they're pumping in and out of your cunt.

"Oh, okay. Got it!" he squeals softly, turning to you, "looks like we've got one copy of the sixth edition. Would that be alright?"

You flinch, snapping from your thoughts and realising you really needed to get laid, at least to get your mind straight.

"Ah," you take some time to comprehend his words, "sure. I don't mind, to be honest. Only need it as a reference for my assignment."

"You could've issued this book at the university library, why didn't you?" he asks, stepping out from the counter and guiding you back to the wooden shelves.

You look at your feet, stumbling behind him, unsure of what to say. "I believe it's better to have a personal copy instead of issuing it from the library since I'm going to need till my senior year. Couldn't afford a new one, so I thought why not invest in a second-hand."

He heaves out a gentle chuckle, halting his steps in front of a shelf. "That's fair. So, Horizon University?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Got a scholarship and everything...how did you..."

"It's the only university close by, and I'm in my senior year there, well, at the end of it—only one more month left till I graduate." he starts rummaging through the racks in the shelf to find your book. "Dance major."

"Sophomore year here, zoology major." he hums, looking at you and pulls out a thick book from the shelf. You continue in a hushed voice, "I've still got two years left in that hellhole."

"You don't like the university?" he questions, as a matter of factly.

"No. Not really. Not that I know I can't make friends for fucks sake," you state.

"You haven't met the right kind of people yet, it's fine. You will soon." he flashes you a toothy grin. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good." you whisper, "I'll hopefully vibe with someone soon, can't be alone all the time."

"Like I said, you will. Hang in there," he reassures you with his smile going deep in his cheeks, "I'll ring this up for you, come on."

By the cash register, you pay the respective amount while he puts the book in a paper bag having the store's name printed on top of it.

As he hands you the bag, he chimes, "there you go."

You take the bag in your hands, but don't leave just yet; you didn't want to leave him. Drawn to his charismatic presence, you stay behind for a long second. You're staring into each other's eyes, intently lingering onto the disguised inklings in either of your minds. The space around you seems so suffocating, heavy and laden with thick air. In the pit of your stomach, there's an urge you want to act on, you want to tear your gaze away from him and continue on with the rest of your day.

But you can't.

And your heart doesn't want to, thinking there's a possibility of you engaging with him on a romantic level.

From the corner of your eye, you watch his lips twitch into a tiny smile; he scurries his hand on the desk and pulls out one of the store's business cards. He has a sharpie ready on him, and scribbles something on the back of the card.

"Just in case, here's my number. Give me a call, or a text. Would like to hang out with you some time," he slides the cards across the desk to you, "I'm Yunho, by the way."

You take the card and slip it in the pocket of your dress; yes, you wore a clingy summer dress with pockets because pockets are a lifesaver.

"My name's Angel."

"I look forward to hearing from you, Angel."

And you did find something better in there, other than books.

The day rolls by as smoothly as it should, after leaving the bookstore you make your way back to your dorm room in the university to keep the book in your room and grab your laptop as you decide to spend the rest of your morning in the campus cafe. Musty notes of coffee linger in the air while you save Yunho's contact into your phone and work a little on your assignment. All your lectures, you whiled the time thinking about Yunho—his face, his voice, his fingers, his body—you were starting to realise how reprehensibly had this man taken up every fraction of your mind.

You weren't complaining, though. But it was proving to be very distracting amidst your lectures. Coming back to your dorm room, lethargic from the humdrum day of lectures and practical work, you lay in your bed. Mindlessly, you pick your phone and go through your socials, especially Yunho's. He has to have an Instagram page at least. And to your surprise, he does. You come across a public account with few of his photos. You didn't get to see much of him however, as the photos were mostly of him either looking away from the camera or hiding his face behind his hands. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you lock your phone and go on about the rest of your day.

As night dawns in, you're back in your bed after eating dinner. You've done all of your nightly routine and are freshly showered. You wear a dark brown cardigan over your black lingerie; really not in the mood to change into sleepwear because of the buzzing heat of summer. Again, mindless thoughts pop in your head and you grab your phone to check any texts from your nonexistent friends. It's not like you didn't have any friends, you didn't prefer to make friends—regardless, you did have one friend in the entirety of your university. He was a bunny-eyed man with deep brown hair, and a baby yet stoic face; Choi Jongho. But you spoke to him occasionally and only interacted when needed to.

Opening the messaging app on your phone, you almost make sure to have a double take when you see Yunho's name at the top with very recent messages from him. Yep. It was him. You checked it twice only to be sure and it was his contact number. Stifling a squeal, you open your chats.

Yunho: Hey! Just wanted to make sure you got to your dorm room safely. And how's that book working out for you?

[Sent 22:39 pm Read 1:06 am]

So, he needed an excuse to text you. How adorable.

You: Hi Aren't you quick to text me? ^^ It's alright. And... The book makes me want to hit my head against a wall.

[Sent 1:07 am Read 1:07 am]

Yunho: Ouch :( I have no idea what works in biochemistry. Sadly. But hang in there! And ofc Thought I'd keep you company since you're a loner.

[Sent 1:09 am Read 1:10 am]

You: I have friends, mister!

[Sent 1:10 am Read 1:12 am]

Yunho: Yeah You do Imaginary friends don't count.

[Sent 1:12 am Read 1:13 am]

You: I do have a friend! Don't underestimate me.

[Sent 1:14 am Read 1:15 am]

Yunho: "a" friend I'm not tbh But who's this friend?

[Sent 1:16 am Read 1:17 am]

You: He's in my department We've got couple of classes together

[Sent 1:17 am Read 1:18 am]

Yunho: well then I'll let you talk to him

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:19 am]

You felt a pang of pain bubble in your chest, but your mind couldn't figure out why you were hurting over his response.

You: Why do you sound mad?

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:35 am]

Yunho: I'm not :)

[Sent 1:35 am Read 1:36 am]

You: k.

You roll your eyes and blink away the weirdness. Now, your silly anguish had been replaced with anger and frustration. In fact, you wondered why you felt so silly about this ordeal when he was the one to initiate texting you. They say men have a golden rule of texting, that is, they'd wait three days until texting. But it turns out Yunho was little too eager to talk to you. Shaking your head, you sit up straight in your bed and puff your cheeks. Your eyes glaze over your reflection in the full-length mirror in front of your closet.

An idea sparks your curiosity, and you smirk to yourself. Bringing your phone back in your hand, you angle it at a specific point to get your entire body in the frame. You take a mirror selfie, perched by the edge of the bed, your cardigan loosely hanging over your shoulder to expose your lingerie and a good amount of your cleavage, your hair flowing down on one side of your shoulder, and your eyes remain emotionless. Having no perceivable clue of your behaviour, you slump yourself back in bed and purposely send the picture to Yunho. You wait for a minute to pass when you text him back.

You: *sent attachment*

You: Oh god! Didn't meant to send it to you. Can you delete it, please?

[Sent 1:45 Read 1:45]

Yunho: Oh ... Well I saw it. And it's only fair if you... *sent attachment*

[Sent 1:46 Read 1:47]

You feel the buzz in your head, upon checking out the attachment he sent you. Thinking it'd be a normal photo, you didn't pay too much attention to it, but maybe you should have, and you did exactly at your second take of the photo. It was him, obviously; he was sitting in a gaming chair, legs widespread, wearing his loose sweatpants under a haze of dim lights of his room. One of his hands held his phone as he clicked the picture, while the other palmed his crotch. And then you saw it, his boner, protruding from the sweatpants. You mentally tried to gauge his size by the pronounced outline on his pants. And you were impressed.

The heaviness in your head grows when you notice his sly smirk in the photo, and the bulging veins on both of his hands; he wanted to rile you up, just the way you did. Though, if there could be a difference, you did it out of spite and he was doing it to get back to you. Squeezing your thighs together, you tried to control your urges, the same stupefying urges you got when you saw him in the bookstore this morning. The suppression of your desire leads to you heaving out a deep breath, wanting to get back at him for ruining your peace with that photo.

You: someone's all worked up. what were you thinking about?

[Sent 1:50 am Read 1:51 am]

Yunho: Just something Or someone

[Sent 1:51 am Read 1:52 am]

You: I wouldn't mind taking a peek in your head ;)

[Sent 1:53 Read 1:53]

Yunho: Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about?

[Sent 1:54 Read 1:55]

You: Yes Unless you don't want to.

[Sent 1:56 Read 1:57]

Yunho: I'd be the one to ask you that Are you sure you want to know?

[Sent 1:57 Read 1:58]

For some reason you could picture him with a conceited smile on his face, still sitting on the chair and his legs wide apart while he rubs his cock through his sweats.

You: You like teasing don't you?

Yunho: Oh I love it

You: I'll tell you what. I've been thinking about you since the morning

Yunho: Hmm Likewise I've been thinking about all the things I'd do to you if you were here with me

You: and what would you do?

You draw in a sharp breath, chest heaving up and down when your mind fogs with the thoughts of him doing filthy things to you.

Yunho: For the starters... I'd gently kiss your lips While ripping the buttons off your sweater Taking it off Letting my hands roam your body

Reading his texts, you pull at the buttons on your sweater, one by one and eventually shrugging it off from your body. You tremble slightly as you proceed to text him with one hand.

You: Go on...

Yunho: I'd pin you to the bed Make sure your hands are above your head Kiss you so hungrily. use my hands to feel all of you. And take off whatever that's remaining on your body Id tease you a hell a lot Fukc Ferl your bdy shuddre under mine when I drg my fingerss down to yor wet pussy Pusj my fingers deep in you knuckles feep Make you mewl as my fingers pumped in and out ... Fuck I want you so bad

That was the point of no return for you, you were deeply invested in this game, in this stupid act of desperation where all you could think about was his texts. It brings your colourful imagination to mind, visualising his texts as you rub your fingers on your now-aroused cunt through your dripping wet panties. you noticed the typos in his texts, probably from him typing with his one hand while his other remained busy. 

Taking a deep breath, you rest against the headboard of your bed, your legs spread a little to make it easier for your hands to rub you. You bite your lip, thinking more of him, thinking of his sleek fingers sawing you out while he's knuckles deep in your cunt.

You: I want you too So so bad I want your fingers in me I want you to loosen me up nice for your cock to pound into me

You finally decide to push your panties to the side, while ghosting your fingers over your clit before you let them submerge in your heat. Your arousal coats your fingers as they slick back and forth, at a steady pace, in your cunt. Your mind is already long gone to the end where you were only yearning for him to make you feel good. Noticing how your phone hadn't buzzed for a long time, you shift your attention to it and instead of his texts, you see him calling you. Hesitation knocks at your door, but you're too far gone from rationality to think about it. As you answer his call and press your phone to your ear, you hear his ragged breathing. It brushes your ear and tickles you, springing up goosebumps on your skin, as though he was right next to you in your bed.

"You really know how to make a man all worked up, don't you?" he hisses, "don't worry, princess. I'll make you feel good."

You take in another deep breath through your mouth, bringing your fingers out of your cunt. Hovering them over your chest, you push the cups of your bra down and grope your breasts; you pinch your nipples, fondle and knead your tits to get yourself in the mood. He doesn't know about it, but your fantasies run wild—with him as he fills his hands with your tits, groping and fondling them, maybe even more.

"What is my Angel doing right now? Are you touching yourself at the thought of me pinning you down to the bed and fucking you relentlessly?" he asks, and your mind pictures it word to word.

"Yes. I want you to—I want you to fuck me foolish—make me—make me see stars—while—while your cock rams into me..." you stutter, struggling to strip yourself out of your lingerie.

"Pretty filthy thoughts for a beautiful face like yours, Angel." His tone is teasing as he continues, "wanting a stranger you just met to do all these vile things to you...you're a cum-slut aren't you?"

Dirty talk was never your cup of tea, it made you cringe internally but there was something about Yunho's deep and sultry voice that made you wet, insanely wet. You bite your lip, conscience half gone to the sound of his trembling breathing, and rub your clit—the sensation only brings butterflies in your stomach, because in your mind those were his fingers and not yours. In your mind everything you did to yourself was replaced with him, and it was enough to get you started.

Biting back on a moan, you reply, "yeah...I want you to—I want you to do all the vile stuff to me."

You hear certain shuffling in the background alongside a long pause and then, your ears catch up on his soft little grunts. Nothing prepared your imagination for what you were thinking; him in his bed or just in his gaming chair, with his cock out, stroking himself at the thought of you.

"Your—your wish is my command," he growls, his deep voice resonating in your ear, "would love to finger your tight little cunt, drawing out these pretty moans from your mouth..."

You slide one finger down your slit, and eventually ease it in your hole; it brought discomfort at first, a little, but when you started moving it deep within you, you felt your walls clench slightly around it.

"Fuck...yes, I want you to spread—spread me open with your fingers."

He did not need to know that you were fingering yourself, your voiceless grunts and whispers were enough for him to imagine it. Picturing you plunge your fingers into your cunt, he increases the pace of his hand stroking his cock; though, he keeps himself steady. He couldn't really help himself and gradually increases the rhythm of his movements.

"Add another finger, baby." he mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back against his chair.

You oblige, adding another finger in your hole.

"How does it feel?"

"Good—feels good, Yunho." You mewl his name, scissoring your fingers inside of you.

"You're doing great, princess. Now, curl your fingers..." he manages to squeak out in a whisper, pumping his cock with busy motions.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically to your moans, and you do as he says; curling your fingers inside you, you feel a certain warmth lingering in your stomach. You were getting close to your climax, without even having to anything more—the knot strikes a jolt of tightness in the pit of your stomach, and you moan out loud. Really loud.

"I want you to feel me, Yunho." you breathe out, aroused. "I want to feel you too—feel your cock sliding in and out of me—fucking me good with it."

"Oh baby," he goes silent for a second, focused on stroking himself, "I'll fuck you good—I'll fuck you till you're begging for me to stop..."

"Ah fuck," you arch your back off the mattress, trying to chase your high.

Your fingers plunge in and out, increasing tension in your stomach and gut; your tightness was gradually easing up, and so you decide to insert another finger in. The stretch stung, however, pleasurable, making you whimper his name out loud.

"Yunho...!"

"Yes, baby, I know." he winces in diversion. "Hold on a little longer, I'm close—I'm close too."

He breathes out, increasing the pace of his hand; his cock slick with his precum and it spreads along the shaft as he continues to pump himself. You could hear the strain in his voice, indicating you, he indeed was close to his own climax; you were too, knowing your fingers were hitting your sweet spot every time they thrusted in you. Keeping your phone on loudspeaker, you set it on the nightstand and use your other hand to rub your clit. You increase the pace of your fingers, flesh squelching, your juices lightly lapping against your fingers—the knot tightens delicately in your stomach as your tempo remains constant.

Yunho bucks his hips into hands, composing himself as he thrusts his cock into his hand, thinking about your tight cunt. He has a colourful mind too, picturing himself rocking his hips so that his cock hits all of your deepest parts. His lungs convulse, fighting the urge to moan but it breaks out of his lips anyway. He moans your name, shaking and struggling to hold his phone next to his ear—he does the same as you, sets his phone aside while keeping it on speaker.

"Such a dirty little slut, fingering herself to the thought of my cock thrusting into her," his voice gives you a push, fuels your soul with the fire it lacked. In retrospect, he needed something too, to tip him off his edge as he fucked his hand. "Fuck...needs my cock to make her happy..."

"Yes, please," you cry, tears rolling down the side of your face as your fingers do their work.

Your high was approaching you, so close, almost there. The limit to hold it in was past the point, he could say something and you would be riding down your orgasm—you needed him, his voice, his words. On the other hand, Yunho's patience was running thin, he wanted to finish it off—feeling the warmth of his hand pushing him to his edge, he smirks to himself and throws his head back.

"Are you close, princess? Cause I am..." he grunts.

You nod your head, pursing your lips together to make a gentle sound of humming. You didn't realise it yet, but you were bucking your hips to your fingers, letting them curl and slip in deep inside you; grinding your hips against your fingers, you let out a satisfied groan—the tightness in the pit of your stomach comes undone. Rummaging your hand to hold the headboard behind you, you brace yourself as your high washes over you with a vehement intensity. You let our shaky breaths, well beyond being breathless, as your fingers slowly make their way out of your heat. Your chest rises and falls, tremors spread under your skin with your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

"Fuck, princess..."

His groan is a little static, coming from your phone as it leaves your imagination to run wild. You picture him slumped in his chair with his load spurting out to stain his lower abdomen and clothes. In reality, Yunho breathes through his mouth, letting it fall agape when his high comes crashing down onto him. He had never felt such rush of satisfaction by only indulging himself with you on call; he had never felt himself cumming so hard for anyone with any real action, but here he was, panting and shaking, stroking off his climax as he grimaced at his hand full of his cum.

There's a long moment of silence between you two, and in that silence, the post-orgasm clarity sinks deep within you. The thought of you being so indecent with a man you met in the morning, not even knowing him for more than a day, brought some coherence to your mind. Though, the best is to let it go and keep it in your bounds of inadvertent thrills of late night.

Your body feels languid, and tired; wondering the same for him.

"That was..."

"It happened in the moment," Yunho breathlessly pronounces, "we're just two strangers who have nothing to do with each other, right?"

"Well..."

You sit straighter in your bed, staring at your phone as you bite your lip; you were waiting for him to speak.

"Well what?" he mumbles, a sly smile stretching his lips.

"I thought...never mind. I'm way over in my head." You shrug it off, pulling the sheets over your body as the embarrassment drowned you out. "It's fine, we'll pretend this never happened."

"What? Are you crazy?" his voice is much clear now, with the obvious tone of bewilderment. "Gosh, Angel. You don't know how hard I came for you. I can't pretend this never happened; instead, I wouldn't mind giving us..."

He trails, dragging his words in a whisper with hopes of you completing him. "...giving us a try, like just keeping our relationship exclusive to sex?"

"If you're down for it." he mumbles, "I don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with."

"I'll think about it."

You smiled to yourself, thinking about that possibility. When the sun rose to a new day, you found yourself pondering. Not exactly in the 'deep venture' of it, but you just kept your mind busy with Yunho's proposal and thought of the consequences if you were to ever agree to it. Friends with benefits with a soon-to-graduate hot senior? That sounds tempting, a lot, it also fuels your infatuation with him. But on the other hand, you didn't want to go down that road with him. There were second thoughts in your mind, of course there'd be—you maybe, sort of, liked this man, after all, he does give off the vibes that he'd be a great boyfriend. You didn't want to ruin that possibility with him.

The rest of your day goes as scheduled, you attend a few of your lectures in the morning. Currently, it's afternoon and you have last of your classes to attend. Amidst all the excitement and stress, your friend, Jongho texts you, asking you to get him your lab-coat for his practical class. You find him standing in front the chemistry department, smiling and engaged in a chatter with someone else. And upon noticing it from afar, the person who he was talking to was Yunho. It was such a contrast, both were happy-go-lucky kind of guys, but Jongho seemed more innocent than Yunho (after the night you had spent with him, it was hard to picture him being anything but innocent). You could make it out from his tall built, and silver-bluish hair styled in a mullet, regardless with his back facing you. Hesitation stricken, you somehow manage to make your way to him; because Jongho had already noticed you even before you turn around and run away.

"There she is!" Jongho glees, and Yunho turns around, meeting your eyes. "Thank you so much for bringing it, I really despise prof. Yuen when he gets all judgmental about 'forgetting' to bring a lab-coat to his practical class."

"Hey, no worries," you smile at him, handing him your lab-coat. "I have his practical class day after tomorrow, till then the coat is yours." You laugh it off, awkwardly glancing at Yunho.

Jongho notices the out-of-ordinary ogles you made at Yunho, chiming in, "oh right, Angel, this is Yunho. I live with him and six other guys. But that's not important and ummm.." he looks at Yunho, scratching the back of his neck, "she's Angel, my only friend in this university."

Yunho smiles warmly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he does. "Oh so, it's her you can't stop chattering about?" he chuckles lightly, "and what do you mean 'your only friend' aren't we your friends too?"

Jongho rolls his eyes, "you guys are nothing but a pain in the ass. Just today, in the morning Wooyoung and San drank all the milk and kept empty containers back in the refrigerator. I had to crunch on cereals before heading out for my morning classes."

"So, are you tainting all others because of those two individuals?" Yunho retorts.

You purse your lips together, ineptly crossing your eyes between them; you were aware of Jongho's living condition, but you could have never expected Yunho to be one of his flatmates. It was true, Jongho lived with seven other guys from the university, some of them having a full time job, and at times he would complain about them to you. Though you never really focused too much on what he had to say, or even catch their names.

"Uhhh..." you trail, offering them a tight lipped smile.

"Angel, come on, back me up." Jongho grumbles.

"I can't say anything about your flatmates, Jongho." The chestnut-haired man rolls his eyes, and you continue, "but I've always listened to your rants."

"I bet you're a good listener, Angel." Yunho taunts you, "and an even better friend to him."

"She is," Jongho breaks out in a smile. "Hey, you should totally come over on Thursday. We've got a game night planned."

"Uh, Jongho, I don't think I'd want to play board games with eight guys." You mutter under your breath.

"Who said we play board games?" Yunho says, drawing his brows together. "Though, it'll be fun for a while, having a girl over."

"Yes, Angel. You should consider it. Just—just think about it okay?" the enthusiasm in Jongho's voice isn't hard to ignore. "Now, I've got a class, so I'll see you in a bit."

With that he disappears, leaving you and Yunho stranded alone with nothing to talk about or a lot to talk about.

"What a lovely coincidence," Yunho begins, smiling at you, "the girl he talked about was you all along; well, he painted a pretty picture of you in our heads."

"I see Jongho as anything but more than a friend." you pout, "and this game night, should I even consider coming?"

"Well, it depends on you, princess," he smirks, "it depends on whether or not you could keep your hands to yourself. Because I'll be there."

"Oh, don't put yourself on a high pedestal, mister." You roll your eyes, "I'll think about it."

"Don't you have a lot to think about already?" he steps closer to you, towering over you as he leans close to your ear, "I don't think I can go on without touching you for the entire time you'd be there, so really do think about it."

He straightens up and mumbles one last time before leaving you completely high and dry.

"And if you do come, I will really fuck you senseless."

Next Part ┃ M.list

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #smut

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {7}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your mother finally gets the truth out of you regarding Max. Warnings: 18+ only, swearing, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

The double bed was definitely not made to accommodate three people, even if you were all spooning, so you found yourself sneaking out at sunrise. You hadn’t been able to sleep with the thoughts running through your head, wondering why Max couldn’t have been more like your mother. You weren’t worried about waking Lando as you climbed out from between them, since you didn’t have an air horn on you, but you were careful not to jostle Charles who was a much lighter sleeper.

After changing into a pair of leggings and a sports bra, you found your airpods and shoved the Aura ring back on your finger before taking a lap of the village. You quickly settled into a good pace, feeling the rhythmic slap of your trainers on the pavement and timing your breathing to match. It cleared your mind and gave you a focus on something other than everything else that was happening around you. For those precious minutes you didn’t think about Max.

So far you had managed to avoid talking about him with your mum, though that was mostly thanks to being blindsided by your relationship status - it had been enough to distract her for the rest of the day. You weren’t so sure that luck would last another 24 hours but you would certainly try.

“Just leave her be, she’ll come in when she’s ready.” Your mother had been watching you all morning from her spot on the window seat, a cup of tea in hand. After Charles had woken up he had joined her and watched curiously, wondering why you were in the garden. “Avoiding me,” she said with a knowing smile. “It’s funny that the only times she would willingly do her chores were when she was trying to hide. It was a dead giveaway, but I never said anything. It was just nice to not have to ask her to do them.”

Charles chuckled as you battled to trim the agapanthus with a pair of rusted and blunt shears. “Should I offer to help?”

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, checking the time on her watch. “She’s nearly done.”

Charles quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the progress that had barely started to make a dent in the long drive.

“Fuck,” you hissed as you the slimy residue that leaked from every cut leaf made your hand slippery and the shears fell from your grasp, narrowly missing your foot. You went to wipe a wayward hair that fell onto your nose but the sun caught the shimmer of slime and you jerked back with a groan, instead trying to blow it out of your face. You grew more irritated as the hair remained where it was tickling your nose and the urge to sneeze built up. “Fuck this shit.”

Abandoning the garden, you marched up the path and kicked your filthy shoes off before storming through the house.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mother greeted jovially. “Lovely day for a spot of gardening.”

“I’m calling Mr Newberry,” you grumbled on your way to the bathroom. “He can sort that mess out.”

You felt slightly calmer after washing away the slime and the chlorophyll that stained your fingers green and that feeling only grew when you found Charles waiting with a coffee made just how you liked it. “Busy morning?” he asked after handing over your elixir of life and taking his payment with a quick kiss.

“I’m just trying to help out,” you said with an innocent shrug. “I made a list of things that need fixing around here and if I don’t make the phone calls they will never get done.”

Charles tried to hide his amusement but when you narrowed your eyes at him he couldn’t stop the smile from breaking through. “Your mother knows you so well,” he laughed as he leaned in to whisper, “She knows you are avoiding her.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Yes, she does,” he assured you, running his hands along your sides before he kissed your forehead. “Just talk to her, amour.”

A shirtless and sleepy Lando stumbled his way into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he made a beeline for the two of you. You placed your mug on the table before he reached you and let him fall into the middle of the embrace as his eyes fluttered shut again. He must have been burrowed under the blankets because the heat radiating off him was almost hotter than the blistering shower you had taken.

“Why are you awake?” he mumbled against your neck.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“She’s being a coward and avoiding her mum.”

That made Lando battle his exhausted state and force his eyes to open as his forehead crinkled with a frown. “Why?”

“I’m not.”

“Because she wants to know why that person-we-can’t-mention-for-another-eight-days keeps calling her.”

“You can say his name,” you grumbled. “Max Verstappen, World Champion, Number One. Prodigal Son. Cunt.”

Your mother gasped as she entered the room with a fresh brew of tea. “I should wash your mouth out with soap, young lady.”

You winced at the reprimand. “Oops, turns out we can’t say his name.”

“This has gone on long enough, take a seat - family meeting,” she ordered as she pointed to the table. Lando and Charles took a step towards the door but your mum tutted. “You’re a part of this family now too, gentlemen.”

“Should I put a shirt on?” Lando asked as he looked down at himself. “Or shorts?”

“Please don’t.” “Please do.” You spoke at the same time as your mother, both of you sending each other slightly irritated looks. 

“Two Spitfires, Char, there’s two now,” he whispered under his breath as he went to get dressed. He obviously had been in a rush and blindly pulled clothes out because the tense atmosphere wasn’t enough to stop Charles from grinning at the sight of Lando in his Ferrari shirt.

Seated at one end of the table, you faced your mother while your poor boyfriends were the buffer between. Lacing her fingers together, she stared back at you and made that heavy sigh that every parent could which immediately induced waves of guilt. You didn’t even have anything to be guilty over, but it happened anyway.

“What happened with Max?”

You crossed your arms at the direct question. “This is why I don’t bring people home.”

“What happened with Max?”

“Nothing.” You dropped your head to the table with a thud as her penetrating stare became too much to look at.

“What happened with Max?”

“Fucksake,” you groaned as her persistence won over your impatience. “He called you a whore…well technically he called me one too, but it doesn’t matter. He disrespected you, mum, so instead of calling you what he can do is he can take his phone and go fuck himself with it.”

Lando covered his mouth as a quiet squeak slipped out behind his apologetic smile and you reached out with your foot, running it up and down his leg. You felt bad for subjecting him to this drama when he was as introverted as they come - not that anyone would guess after seeing him on tv. Charles seemed to just take everything on the chin and not a lot fazed him at all, but like you he was reaching out to soothe Lando under the table too. 

“I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry,” you said as you started to push your chair out.

“Wait, please,” your mum asked quietly as her face softened. “He shouldn’t have said that, sweetheart, and I’m sorry that he did. I’m assuming it was after he found out about the three of you?”

You all nodded sullenly and she sighed. “It’s a shock, that’s no excuse, but it was a big shock. Maybe you should talk to him? It’s been a few days, he’s had time to think and reflect. You might be surprised.”

“Have you ever heard Max apologise?” you asked Lando and Charles. Both of their eyebrows furrowed in thought before they shook their heads. “See, Max doesn’t apologise, and I have no interest in hearing anything else from him.”

“As long as you’re doing it for yourself, honey, and not on my behalf. I have been called every name under the sun, but it's water off a duck's back. Don’t miss out on the opportunity to repair the relationship for some vindication for me. He’s your brother and you have missed so much of each other’s life already.” Your mother sighed again as she saw you had heard her words but they hadn’t broken the wall you had built. “Just think about it.”

She rose from the table, walking around it to rest her hand on your shoulder. “Just think about it,” she repeated before she left the room as you sagged in your chair like a puppet whose string had been cut.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out to see your reflection broken on the screen. It still hadn’t been repaired from the last argument you had with Max when you accidentally cracked it. Perhaps it was a good reminder to keep.

Unlocking the device, you saw the notification from family share - alerting you that your location services were in use. 

“Fucking cunt,” you groaned before hearing your name from the other end of the house. “Sorry! Can I call him a prick?”

Lando laughed and this time Charles joined in as your mother ranted to herself about your language. You couldn’t help that you grew up around mechanics and drivers, they were the most foul mouthed bunch of people. 

Reaching across, Charles took a look at your phone before updating Lando. “He tracked her.”

“What do you want to do?”

Five minutes ago you would have ditched the phone and packed the car. Five minutes ago you might have threatened harassment. Five minutes of talking with your mother changed everything. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you dropped your head in your hands until they were pulled away. You could wear a blindfold and still know exactly who was holding your hand, recognising their touch and feel with the familiarity of intimacy. “What do you think I should do?”

“I’m not ready to forgive him for how he spoke to you, amour,” Charles shrugged. “If he was my brother, I honestly don’t know if that would change anything.”

“I’ll follow your lead, baby,” Lando said as he lifted your hand to his lips. “Whatever you decide. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you look really good in that shirt,” you said as you looked at Charles for confirmation, his smirk evident. “Really, really good.”

“I always look good. Stay focused.”

“I am focused. I am going to call the gardener, and someone to fix that bloody pavement. Then, maybe, I’ll think about what to do next, it’s not like he’s going to be knocking down the door right this minute.”

Both of them turned to the door expecting to hear it knock and you rolled your eyes. “He’s not the bogeyman. He just likes to think he is.”

You took your phone back and opened the family share app, selecting Max’s phone and watched as it zeroed in on the pin drop. “Shit,” you sighed as the blue dot moved along the street. Leaning back in the chair, you craned your neck to see out the window and caught sight of an Audi SUV pulling in the driveway. “I take that back. Can we run?”

Click here for chapter eight.

#charles leclerc x reader x lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc x you #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

[wesstars]

love, at second glance

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: that’s what you do when you love somebody else… wc: 1k tags: all characters 18+; no ghostface au. angst, horribly excessive use of italics (seriously, everything in italics is either a quote, a thought, or actual emphasis. it’s terrible) a/n: what’s up y’all (title from 715 - CR∑∑KS by bon iver)

masterlist

Tara wondered when it all began.

You and me, me and you.

A mantra that used to be comforting, it now left her mouth dry, mind frantic. 

Sometimes, when it got real bad like it did today, she’d drive out to your—our—deserted garage, and look up into a pitch black night, blinking away tears. It was easy to scream at the sky: how could you forget about me about us about milkshakes shared about distances closed about how I love you and love you and love you—but to you, she’d say nothing.

She couldn’t say anything, while you basked in the glow of a new hand to hold. It was all over in a helpless shrug. That was it, and really, it wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s fault. You couldn’t help it, Tara reasoned, you weren’t cruel. Even at the very end, you were endlessly kind. Commitment was a choice, but love, love happened to you away from Tara and she couldn’t do anything but watch.

Tara switched the engine off, leaning back in her seat. The stars shone barely brighter than the city lights. It was strange, the way that when she was on the brink of losing everything, the world looked that much more beautiful. Every breath in that particularly cold winter felt like it was being swallowed up by the vastness of air itself, precious in its scarcity. 

“But I love you.”

You said nothing for a moment, a troubled little frown twisting on your lips. “Tara, I—”

“I love you.” She heard, rather than felt, herself repeating it. As if stopping you from speaking would make that cold reality any less crushing. “That’s all.”

It was odd, Tara decided, to go online and see your life in the pictures she used to be part of. She put her phone down. From tide pulls to seasons changing, there wasn’t exactly a world where she envisioned herself going on without you. There was something in that sinking feeling, like you were holding her down with a hand on her chest, when she saw you laughing with your friends, with anyone, a smile so brilliant it couldn’t possibly have Tara as the cause. 

You’d always wanted a little cabin in the woods (“not in a creepy way,” you’d insist) surrounded by mist, and it would always be raining. “You’re the only sunshine I need, Tara Carpenter.” She could still hear the way you’d tease her, lying on your side next to her, tracing the bridge of her nose with your fingertip. So easy it was, to tumble back into those shining memories where absolutely nothing would go wrong, you wouldn't let it, because she was yours.

The top floor of the lot was empty, and the moon spilled onto the windshield, into the empty passenger seat. She was lucky, you both were lucky, to have even come as close to the sun as the two of you did. Tara knew, deep inside herself, that if she just let it all go, she would be okay. The blood would rush back into her fingertips—you wouldn’t be there to massage the feeling back into them, the way you often did on winter nights like this—and then she would be okay.

Tara thought that she remembered too much for someone so hurt. Your hand on her thigh while you drove, wiping her lipstick off your cheek, the way you seemed so so so unhappy when you sat her down for one last time. You didn’t even look the same then, like you were somebody else, you weren’t hers anymore. It was getting colder in the car, but Tara didn’t feel anything but the searing coil of shame. 

Sunkissed March found you and Tara lying side by side on a picnic blanket, sodas losing their fizz as time forgot to move the two of you. A breeze ruffled the leaves, and if she really listened, Tara could hear the frogs in the nearby pond. You loved it here—you said it reminded you of hot summers spent in the countryside, the days as long as wildflowers. Not half an hour ago, you were braiding together the stems of daisies into a lush crown. 

“For you, Queen Carpenter,” you said in a posh accent. “A gift from your humble knight—each braid represents a ‘forever,’ and each flower is an ‘always.’” You set the crown atop Tara’s head, kissing the tip of her nose as she rolled her eyes.

“And what has compelled my knight to bring me such a gift?”

“Only all of the love I carry for you, your majesty.” You scooped her up in your arms, smiling as she giggled, rolling the two of you over to settle into the knolls of grass.

There was a certain bravery in the way your fingers wrapped loosely around hers, the way the heels of both your shoes made indents in the dirt—proclaiming, we were here. Even in her doze, Tara could feel you there, each moment stretching on like strings of eternity, unfailingly. 

The moment did end, as moments do. The crown, dried and shrunk, still hung from the rear view mirror in the car. The daisies themselves were long gone, but the dried stems had somehow stayed bound together. Tara’s head dropped into her hands, eyes sore and red. She’d thought so much and so often about where the two of you went wrong, she felt like she had turned over every stone in your path, ones that didn’t carry with them the weight of a goodbye. Tara would give anything to even know what it would take for you to stand in the sun with her one more time.

The abrupt knock on the window should’ve startled Tara more than it did, given that it was four in the morning in an empty parking lot, and she was supposed to be all alone. But all she could do was watch with wide eyes as the knock came from you, at your tight lipped smile. She rolled down the window, unable to feel anything but shock as she took in your mismatched shoes with untied laces, your shirt way too thin for the cold night. You weren’t looking at her, guilt evident in the hunch of your shoulders. Your voice comes out exactly as she remembered it. 

“Hey… can we talk?”

--

a/n cont'd: don't super feel like i like this but writing it came naturally so

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #fanfiction #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter fanfiction #reader #reader insert #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #angst #lgbtq #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #tara x reader

[bunny584]

For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter II

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Songs of Solomon 8:6-7.

As newly appointed Duchess-To-Be, you have much to learn. Etiquette, conduct and eventual motherhood are the pillars you are expected to live by. Because who cares about your choosing?

The Chapel, tended to by a mercurial Priest, is the perfect refuge.

…right?

Pairing: Geto x female reader

A/N: The is dedicated to the artist ( @captainsalsaa ) I mean look at our fallen Angel. His tears. His frustration. Dear GOD.

To the artist: I stared at your piece, then heard a specific song on my writing playlist then wrote the entire last scene in one sitting. To date, it’s my favorite scene in my author’s portfolio. I hope I did our fallen Angel justice. Thank you for creating this 🤍

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CHAPTER II: Hello, Father.

“Awake early, little dove.” 

Warm hands caress your shoulders. A welcome contrast to the chilly nautical dawn. The sun still has a ways to go, but songbirds have begun their wake up call. 

“As are you, Arella.” 

Your eyes float to your favorite maiden standing above you. No more than a handful of years older, but with a heart for you as if she raised you from birth. 

“It’s my duty to tend to you, is it not?” 

Soft laughter harmonizes with the nightingales. A quick kiss on your forehead before her warmth disappears off the balcony —  undoubtedly to go retrieve a treat of some kind. 

She’s not wrong. 

Technically it is her duty. 

But Arella is your blessing. 

Matting and kneading your surroundings to fit your needs. Eager to dampen the growing pains of settling in a new home. 

Constant hellos. 

Permanent smiles.

Not too wide, like a promiscuous woman. But not too tight, like a cold prude. 

Rooms to tour. Hands to shake. Garments to pin and tie and lace around your lungs as if your God-given ribcage was a frivolous extra not needed for life. Not needed to breathe. 

Breathe.

Your lids screw shut. Pulling in as much of the balmy, saltwater breeze gliding up the steep rock face along the overhang. 

Much like he did. 

The Chaplain. 

His hair cascading down his back in the same way poets monologue when inspired. His eyes a mural of what the Gods paint when they want to show off. 

The way earth acquiesces to his touch as if he is the Creator. The birds choose to perform for him every morning. And the ocean exists to bathe him. 

You cannot decide if the sorbet sunsets are created by the Chaplain. Or if the Gods fight over who gets the honor of painting him a new one each evening. 

“Sleep still escapes you, precious girl.” 

It does, but not for the reason she thinks. 

“You worry too much, Arella. I’ll adjust soon.” The tea she brought you is delicious.

The both of you cross back into your quarters. The stagnant, perfumed air suddenly suffocating.

“I would like to go to the chapel garden.” 

A quiet declaration that stills your handmaiden in her tracks. Then a small grin blossoms on her beautiful face. Fussing with your bedding. Wiping away evidence of your sleepless night. 

“For the flowers that bloom, little dove? Or for the God that tends to them?”

The blood in your veins runs subzero. 

“Arella! I am engaged to be marri—“

“Of course you are. But eyesight isn’t a sin.”

Another moment of feigned irritation before you burst into a fit of childish giggles. The both of you no better than school girls, covering your mouths, stifling your laughter. 

“I just wanted to see you smile.” Arella gestures to your extravagant dresser across the room. 

“In the second drawer you can find a casual garment. Come back with at least one hour to prepare for Mass.”

     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

A hummingbird chaperones your walk to the church estate. Dulcet hums drown out the rattling heartbeat between your ears. 

This is harmless.

It is not a sin to take in Earth’s natural candy. To appreciate God’s gift to humanity.

In all of his majestic glory. 

Your eyes dart around as if your thoughts are a tangible scroll. Written in ink for the world to see.

Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no one around. 

Just you. Your fluttering companions (both heart and bird). The waking sun. God above and his plants swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. You’re safe in your mind. 

Until he decimates all logical and reasonable train of thought, that is. 

You should be angry. Infuriated. That no one adequately prepared you for seeing the demigod for the first time. Even now, you question whether he’s flesh and blood. 

Maybe an illusion? 

The Lord playing tricks from his throne? 

The mirage before you halts your paces. You can’t help but question your level consciousness. 

Because this must be a dream. 

“Oh, don’t be cruel.” 

Words slip out of your mouth, currently ajar. It’s not your place to chastise the One above, but come on. 

Your eyes taste the Chaplain for a second time and this course is even more decadent than the first. 

There he stands. 

A raven waterfall down his broad, muscular back. Half of it tied away from his face. Olive skin so rich the surrounding plants pale in comparison. Russet brown working pants hang loose around his tapered waist, but snug around his thighs. Various tools hooked in the belt loops. Heavy mahogany work boots match the worn leather gardening gloves fitted to his hands. 

His hands. 

Reaching for thorny vines plaguing his hydrangeas. Even at your distance you could detail each muscle fiber in his arm tense and release with every pull and toss.

Pull and toss.

Pull and toss. 

You would have gotten lost in his rhythmic trance, if it weren’t for the symbol branded in charcoal sprawling his back. The emblem peeks through his thick hair, every now and again. 

A spear? 

No.

A trident. With waves snaking up its stalk along his spine. 

His gravitational pull is overwhelming. Your feet move with more stealth than the King’s Guard.

“Working on the Day of Rest, Father?” Casual, measured. 

“Duchess,” Saliva pools in your mouth. His smile teases your ears before he graces you with it. 

“I have to start being more careful about my clothing.” A playful glint in his eyes. 

“Especially now that I’ve been blessed with a fellow greenskeeper.” 

He is a man of God.

And would never insinuate anything impure. 

But that doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around his words steeped in a baritone potent enough to rumble the ground beneath you.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word that I was coming.” 

“This palace belongs to you, Duchess. You are welcome here at any hour.” His hand captures a vine and tosses it into the pile without his eyes ever leaving yours. 

You are weak.

And greedy. 

The way your gaze drops to his arm. Desperately etching its contours into memory. Seconds, maybe minutes pass before you realize you were gawking. And the Chaplain just let you. 

Head cocked to the side. Soft smile ghosting his full lips. 

“Would you like to finish the tour of your new playground?” 

“Y-yes. Of course, please.” Stumbling over the uneven cobblestone in your voice, you turn away to begin the coordinated stroll. The Priest slides his arms into a linen button up. Lazily fastening two center buttons only. 

He informs you of the work that has already been done, what’s left. Where the soil is richest, where it is the most acidic. How the sun hits certain flowers at each hour of the day.

Brilliant. 

With complete command over God’s bouquet. The sun following him wherever he steps.

“Did you enjoy your swim today, Father?” Both you and the Priest come to a slow stop. One of his angular eyebrows raised.

“I’m dry, Duchess.” He responds with a low, hypnotic chuckle. 

Heat floods your cheeks. How could you be so presumptuous?

“What gave me away?” 

Your knees nearly betray you. The razor sharp grin on his face could cut glass. 

“You were born for the ocean. Or rather, the ocean was born for you.”

Your statement is greeted with blaring silence. 

Lava in his gaze. Singeing every part of your face it touches. His expression is like a foreign language. 

“I—I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Clearly I have much to learn about social graces.” A meek apology bubbles out of your lips. Desperate to fill the space between your bodies. 

The mercurial man shakes his head slightly. Thawed out from your statement, he reaches over and plucks a stray lilac petal resting on your crown.

“My father used to say the same.” He muses, looking away for the first time. 

“Your father! Is he—“

“He was called home some time ago.” This smile is soft. Reminiscent. Polite, but his mind clearly elsewhere. 

“Oh Father Geto, I’m so sorry.” 

A foot in your mouth is not enough punishment for your indecency. Why would you go prodding like this?

“Don’t be, I’ll see him again. Soon enough.”

“Not too soon, I hope.” The statement draws a stunned gaze from the Chaplain. Eyes dancing between yours. 

“Time to prepare for mass, little dove!” Arella’s melodic call tethers you back down from outer space. 

You flicker over to her with a ruby dusting over your nose and cheeks. Like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar before supper. 

“Happy Sunday, Father!” Arella calls out, cheshire grin on her face deepening your crude blush. 

“Indeed, Arella.” He returns the greeting while keeping his eyes on you. 

“Send my regards to the Duke.” His voice lowers, for your ears only. With a nearly imperceptible edge to his tone. 

“Happy Sunday, Duchess. We have a counseling session scheduled late afternoon, yes?” 

A statement of pure black and white fact. And yet it travels down your spine and settles between your legs. Wet heat dampening your thin negligee.

“Yes, Father. Happy Sunday.”

     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

Mass was miserable. 

Your corset laced tight enough to meld your two lungs and beating heart into one entity. To say the neckline strangled you is putting it mildly. Cold, uninviting pews dug into your skin at every turn. 

Wretched. 

But the worst of it wasn’t the thin, oxygen-deficient air. Or the shards of glass that slid down your throat with every swallow. Even the jaw pain from tensing your lips in a well-mannered smile for two hours straight was tolerable. 

The worst part of it was him. 

The Priest mesmerized an entire congregation to an ear-splitting hush. 

His first Sunday mass since appointment and nearly everyone in the country and every surrounding province stuffed into the chapel. 

So desperate for blessings from Father Geto. 

Could you blame them?

His voice danced in and out of the pews listlessly. 

Soothing fussy children. Adolescent girls and their mother’s alike — utterly smitten. Adolescent boys experienced their first “I want to be like him” with their fathers sitting right next to them. Husbands glanced feverishly at the women in their lives. 

He had to have noticed it. And yet, he floated above it all the entire service.

Above you. 

Refusing to gift you those eyes that put Vincent Van Gogh to shame. No matter how much you shifted in your seat and straightened your spine.

The Priest spoke to everyone in the room but you. 

Did you read him wrong? 

Did you misinterpret your budding friendship? 

Does it…should it even matter?

Your irritation is palpable. Innocent bystanders are caught in your friendly fire. Including Arella, who changed you out of that horrid costume. And sweet Noel, who ushered you into the seating area — just outside of the good Father’s office.

You make a mental note to send treats to the tender-hearted alter boy. And to apologize profusely to your handmaiden. 

“You are a million miles away, darling.” The sound of your betrothed tows you out of the storm clouds. 

You flicker over to the Duke. Emerald green eyes, high cheek bones — handsome in a way that is characteristic of everyone native to your new home.

“I’m right here, Ezra.” 

“Are you, sweetheart?” The back of his hand caresses your cheek. 

“Mmhm.” You offer your future husband a weak smile and kiss on his cheek. His eyes  faltering slightly, undoubtedly hopeful for lips instead. 

“Good afternoon, Duke and Duchess Ahriman.” 

Father Geto’s velvet greeting encases you both. If Ezra’s arm didn’t guide you to stand you would have been paralyzed in your seat. 

“Father Geto, a pleasure. Thank you for seeing us.” Ezra offers a genuine smile and handshake. Buying you a few extra seconds in your mind’s safe haven.

The Chaplain is tight lipped. Professional. He returns the handshake firmly. 

“Pleasure is mine.” 

Ezra shifts slightly on his feet. Straightening his spine and dropping his shoulders. Your eyes bounce between the Chaplain and your fiancé.

“I must say, Father. You are even more handsome up close. I speak for the men in this country, thank you for taking the vow of celibacy!” The words spill out of the Duke. Unknowingly thinning the air. 

The Priest chuckles quietly, dropping his eyes briefly before landing them on you. And it feels like you could double over.  Your core temperature skyrockets under his smoldering gaze. 

He, the archer. You, the bullseye. 

“Let’s get started, shall we?” 

Ezra laces his fingers in yours, taking the two seats directly in front of the oak desk. A leather bound notebook and pheasant feather pen are neatly arranged — with your names on the first page.

Blue flame rises from your toes to hairline. You might as well have been sitting naked. With how exposed, how vulnerable you feel already.

“What will we be covering first, Father? Something about how wives should obey their husbands, right?” Ezra is light-hearted. Meant to be said in jest.

But he finds himself being the only party in the room laughing. 

The Priest rolls the ink pen between his fingers. Allowing a deafening silence to coat the walls. His expression is neutral, but eyes ablaze. 

“If the man in question is worthy of submission.” He starts. A low, ominous rumble. 

“Uh, yes. Of course.” Ezra responds, shifting in his seat. 

But the Chaplain does not stop. Intent on making a point, he leans in. Pen whirling lightning fast between his long, deft fingers. Enough tailwind to launch across the room, if he desired.  

“If the man in question would give his life for his wife.” Volcanic eyes linger on you, then back to your fiancé. Ezra’s palm finds your thigh. You gnaw on your inner cheek to avoid flinching away. 

“If he would love her like Christ loves all of his creations unconditionally. Unselfishly. Irrationally.” 

“Yes, Father. I understand.” 

“Only then, should she submit.” His serrated tone could split chromium with ease. 

“Of course, of course.” Ezra wisely accepts defeat. 

He presses a short kiss on your cheek as an apology that you didn’t ask for, nor do you want. 

“Mmm.” A forced acknowledgment of the Duke’s affection through your pinched lips. Barely able to move under the Father’s microscopic gaze. 

“Now then,” Father Geto clears the boulders in his throat. 

“Tell me about your love.” 

The question stuns both you and the Duke. Looking to each other sheepishly because neither of you chose this.

War is young men dying and old men talking. And your life path is no different. Dictated by conversations between the powers that be. 

“We’ve only met a week ago, Father.” Your honesty drives both of his eyebrows upward. 

“A week ago?”

“But we are hoping you can teach us.” The Duke, overeager and excitable. 

“Teach you…?” Father Geto muses. You can’t quite interpret his tone, or minimal response. But your heart flutters all the same. 

He is thinking something. And what you would give to get a glance. To be let in. 

“Perhaps guide us?” Ezra gives an unintentionally painful squeeze on your thigh. You fail to muffle the tiny whimper. 

The Priest’s eyes laser down to where your fiancé’s hand lays. Chest rising and falling dangerously slow. 

“Right.”

Your eyes trail upwards as he stands. Closer to God than to you from this point of view.

“Duke, Duchess. You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies.” 

His fingers dip the unused pen back into the ink cup. The edges of his leather bound notebook coming together. Seemingly without any notes, but an entire script from this session swirling in his mind. 

“My schedule is incorrect. I have another commitment. We will reschedule, yes?” Said with a finality that sends chills crawling down your spine. 

The two of you stand. Another handshake between the men. A restrained nod for you.

Just as quickly as you were let in, Father Geto shuts you out of his office and his mind. 

     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

Suguru presses his forehead against the shower tile. Warm water raining down his loose mane. Soothing his sore, overworked limbs. 

Today was maddening. 

He nearly destroyed his vestment the minute that God-forsaken counseling session ended. Seeking refuge, he took to the coast. 

And the sea provided anything but peace. 

She was angry with him, tonight. 

Curt. With unpredictable currents. Rip tides at nearly every turn. She tested his adaptation without mercy.

Just like that night.

“I’m going to stay on board, brother!”

Suguru flickered over to the silver-haired deckhand. An unfamiliar reservation opacifying his nearly translucent, iridescent eyes. 

Brother in name, technically. 

Their bloodlines were oil and water. He was a high born. Suguru was born unworthy of a beggar’s pity. 

But, bloodlines were inconsequential when their souls were instep as one. Both handed to humanity on the same night. During a thunderstorm already inscribed in history books.

‘The Tide of Eternal Requiem.’ 

It brought complete devastation. Crops destroyed. Families torn apart by tragic accidents inland and at sea. 

Then fate struck. 

Within the same hour, a voltaic boy, with a halo that put the clouds to shame and diamond eyes that could draw truth from murderers was born into the loving embrace of his parents. 

And Suguru was born with a crown so dark that the raging midnight appeared bright. 

With eyes as ominous as the sky above. 

Gunmetal grey, accented by an eerie violet swarm. Dormant volcanoes, threatening eruption. His birth mother abandoned him in an alley. Driven by fear that he was a bad omen from the Gods. 

“Ahhh, Satoru come on. Since when do you shy away from a few waves?”

Suguru teased. Already well into the process of shedding his work gear. 

“Zeus is the one rumored to be my father.” His counterpart flashed a knowing smile. 

“Poseidon doesn’t watch over me like he does you, Suguru.”

A tsunami couldn’t keep Suguru from his home. Much less a little rain. 

They were 3 miles away from the shoreline. Using his God-given ability, Suguru regularly acted as their scout. Performing his own reconnaissance then alerting the incoming ship of safe or turbulent terrain. 

“Almost ready to go, son?” 

His chosen father came up behind him. Suguru knew there were tears lining his meek eyes before turning to face him. 

“Dad.” Suguru sighed, fully disrobed now. Just his muscular frame and a compression suit. 

He met his father’s concerned gaze. Always like this during sea storms. Quiet prayers written all over his gentle features. 

Despite the worry, he never once attempted to convince his oceanic boy to stay on board. It would have been too cruel.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve traversed angrier swells.”

“Suguru, take care of yourself when I’m gone.” 

Elder, worn hands landed on his shoulders. Nearly too high for his reach. Suguru cocked his head to the side. 

This goodbye was different. 

“Stay on this path. For me. Albeit straight and narrow, there is a wonderful view. This is all for you, son.” 

Both men glanced to the Persian gulf. She thrashed against their vessel. Swaying their catch left and right with the intention of taking her creatures back. 

“Where is this coming from?” A genuine question from his younger self. Unable to read between the lines. 

“Can’t a man just speak from the heart?”

The melancholy smile didn’t meet the wrinkles of time decorating his eyes, but they shared a laugh anyway.  Suguru turned away but was promptly drawn back. 

“My beautiful boy.” 

The fisherman cradled his son’s face. Swimming in the eyes that Suguru once hated. The eyes that convinced his birth mother to abandon him. 

“Make it to shore, son.” Suguru rested his head against his father’s neck. Taking a slow, sweet drag of his scent.

Oak. 

He always smelled like oak. It was one of Suguru’s favorite things about him.

“If Poseidon calls—“

“I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Mischievous grin plastered on Suguru’s face. His father planted a kiss on his cheek, pushing him towards the end of the boat. As he always did.

Then the Gulf wrapped him in her hostile embrace. 

She was irate. 

Vicious tidal waves. Rapidly shifting currents. Even her creatures knew to settle below their usual depth. Suguru cursed the fact that he was born with useless, human lungs. Unable to withstand the pressure of the Midnight Zone. 

Within minutes his long, lean frame was riding her whims without a shred of control. Tossed around like a rag doll. At her complete mercy — or lack thereof. 

This was the first time he struggled to tame his element. A muffled groan bubbled around him. Serrated edges of long coral stalks dug into his back. Stark white foam whirled around him. 

Aerated waters. 

Suguru could barely maneuver against the waves pummeling his core. Searing heat traveling up his spine. His lungs demanded oxygen. 

The boat. 

The boat would never make it to shore. 

Desperate, furious strokes of his arms meant nothing against her unrelenting grasp. Effectively pinning Suguru to his underwater cross. 

A piece of chewed plank wood whizzed by his face. 

Followed by another. 

Then another. 

And Suguru watched his nightmare materialize before his eyes. Mustering his last oxygen reserve, he bellowed against his closed lips.

As if she hadn’t already ignored the cries of his fellow fisherman. 

Even still, he screamed so loud his ribcage should have vaporized. But ushering him to a watery grave at that time would have been too merciful. 

Suguru blinks out of the harrowing memory. The steeping tea takes at least two layers of epithelium off his esophagus.

Fucking, hell. 

He can’t seem to escape pain today.

The swim was excruciating.

Mass was dreadful.

Watching that boy’s hand lay on your lap was grating. 

Suguru’s mind drifts back to you. Your thought washes over him like baptizing waters purifying that which is impure.

The gleam in your eyes when you asked about his morning plunge. Barely a week and your pulse on him is already this precise.

Do not covet, Suguru. 

He scoffs to himself. Shaking free of your tempting spiral. 

This ‘straight and narrow’ path is proving to be more challenging than he let on. 

“Would you be proud, Father?” 

A whisper of accusation at the end of his inquiry. Suguru would give his arms, his eyes…his life to hear his father’s voice on the other end of his questions, once again. 

“Did He tell you?” 

Roaring silence. Of course. He knows that. He expects it. 

But it angers him all the same. 

“Did He come to you in a dream??” Suguru echos louder. More frantic. Punched out in a way he can barely recognize. 

“Was the reaper at His left, my heart on the right?!” A weak sob slips through the crack in his baritone. 

Yet another pain. But this one is tart and blurring his vision. 

“Did you KNOW? D—did you know that day was your last?!” He hisses through a salty stream.  Storming out to the garden to escape the walls collapsing in on him. 

Suguru’s eyes laser to the remaining thorny vines along his bed of hydrangeas. Without a second thought he wraps them around his bare arms. Staining the plant and his freshly bathed skin with crystalline tears. Once its thorns sufficiently bury into his skin he rips it away from the soil with all his might. 

“Bastard. I’m your SON.”

Warm metallic drips down the hills and ridges of his arms. Collecting in the flower bed. 

Is he cursing his earthly father? 

His Heavenly One? 

Or the Deity that brought this grief on him in the first place?

It hurts. 

An unforgiving pain. 

Much like the thorns in those rapids. Much like the inconceivable burn from his lungs begging for expanse. The time limit, even for him, ran lethally low. 

Well exceeding his father’s time limit. 

Poseidon stole from him that day.  

A callous trade for Suguru’s continued existence. 

“Why didn’t you…I—I should’ve been there.” 

Guilt eviscerates Suguru’s remaining resolve. Tilting his head up, he lets the salty crystals rain down his cheeks freely. 

The full moon cradles his face with the same warmth, the same adoration his father’s hands used to. 

Suguru accepts its celestial kisses for a moment before burying his face into his bloodied palms. His damp locks curtain his flushed face. Protecting the world from his unruly sobs.

“I’m here.” Barely audible words escape through desperate grabs for air. 

“I made it to shore, Dad.”

E/N: Oh hello, don’t mind me just sobbing. Also, guest appearance by our glorious Blue Eyed Babygirl King™️ If you need me, I will be in witness protection before Gege finds this since it’s a crime to be a S*toru lover. 

taglist: @blkkizzat @rotteneyess

#jjk fanfic #jjk angst #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfiction #jjk suguru #jjk x y/n #suguru smut #suguru fluff #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #priest geto #poly satosugu #geto angst #geto fluff #jjk fic #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n

[justporo]

Like a cat in the afternoon sun

A/N: Idk, I just vomited up this drabble because I needed to get into a writing headspace I guess. It's not proofread because I need to get to other stuff but hope you enjoy a short drabble about Astarion enjoying his time in the sun. ~~~

Astarion lay relaxedly in the grass. Arms behind his back, to prop up his head to better soak up the warm rays of sun on his face. His legs angled and one ankle placed on the knee of the other leg. He drew lazy circles with his foot up in the air.

You could swear you could even hear a delighted sigh and see him take in a deep breath before he loosened it with his chest visibly falling slowly. He'd told you he didn't need to breathe once. But it seemed that filling his lungs with air before letting it all out again with a contented hum still had as much of a relaxing effect on a vampire as it had on you.

Just a few weeks back you would have never thought to see him like this - soaking up the sun like a cat lazing about in the afternoon. But Astarion had made leaps with feeling comfortable around you and the others - maybe even trust you.

At first his eyes had always seemed to flit around, watch everything and everyone to always pick up on possible threats as early as possible. He was still terribly scared and distrustful mostly. Of course he was. Your adventure was far from over and your quest for a cure far from done. Not to mention that freeing him from his master had climbed up very high on your list of priorities too, now that you knew of the horrors he'd had to endure before all this.

But somewhere in between he had found these moments to take a break, however short and small it might be. Just some room to breathe. A spot to bask in the warm daylight he hadn't felt on his skin in more than 200 years.

And a way to open up, let you in - if only a little, one small step at a time.

You tiptoed over to him, careful not to disturb his moment of peace and knelt down next to him while paying attention to not announce yourself by blocking out his precious sun.

It was delightful to see him like this. A warm feeling filled your chest as you watched him enjoy a quiet moment. If it was up to you, you'd find a way to always offer him moments like this.

In a sudden urge you felt you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips.

The vampire hissed and immediately went to push himself up, eyes flying open. But he relaxed again when he realised it was just you. He simply clicked his tongue in disapproval and sank back down again and closed his eyes once more.

That also might have been part of the process: some time ago you might've had a dagger between your rips now.

"You're blocking my sunlight, you little scoundrel," Astarion said in annoyance but with a smirk that told you that he was just messing with you.

"Sorry," you simply said and watched how the vampire observed you with one of his ruby eyes opened again.

"It will probably happen again," you continued when he had just closed his eye and settled in for sunbathing again. Lightning quick you pressed another kiss to his lips.

But this time the rogue was prepared and his arms quickly grabbed you and pulled you to his chest and held you there. You yelped.

"Rude!" the vampire exclaimed and wrapped his arms around you.

"I fear you need to be punished for your crimes," Astarion continued and wiggled you around in his arms until you were snuggled up against his side, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

"Oh?" you simply made as you tangled your legs with the vampire's.

"Yes, laying with me until we have to keep going to teach you not to disturb a vampire enjoying his rare moments of sun," Astarion explained and squeezed you close to him to show you that there would be no getting away.

"Sounds fair," you replied and snuggled a little closer still while you felt the rumble of Astarion's soft laughter shake through your body.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3 #drabble

[liliacamethyst]

So apologies if in advance this is in anyway triggering but I had an idea for a great angsty reveal and all I ask is to be heard out

It involves a miscarriage scare, not that it happens but the scare happens. Here’s the bare bones prompt:

During a mission Sun Spider (ie us) got really bad cramps and is of course terrified that she’s having a miscarriage. As soon as she’s able to she rushes to her place and sets up the ultrasound. (I was kinda thinking the reader were a doctor or nurse of sorts, or at least know another spider who is that would keep the secret.) She wanders the wand and begs that the baby is okay, finally breathing a sigh of relief when she hears the heartbeat and sees her tiny one. Unbeknownst to her Miguel had followed her….

Ahhh this is so angsty and good. Thank you so much Jesse! I thought it would be perfect to combine it with this comment by @fleeingdawn-blog1 :

"Imagine him being FURIOUS that you slept with someone else, the screaming and all the vitriol he would spit your way. Then the dawning horror when he slowly pieces it together and feels his world fall apart around him."

So, because you guys are amazing and have even more amazing ideas, here's another alternate reveal Drabble:

In the middle of an intense mission, you feel an agonizing pain in your lower abdomen. It's a sharp, cramping sensation that doubles you over and forcing you to stop in your tracks. You clutch your stomach, dread sinking in. No, it can't be... Please, no.

You have to leave. You have to get home.

Making some vague excuse to your fellow Spider-people, you swing off, all while trying to ignore the terror building up inside of you. “Please, please let my baby be okay,” you whisper to no one in particular. You had never prayed so hard.

You're careful as you swing, each movement precise so as to avoid jostling too much. As soon as you reach your apartment you rush inside, immediately heading to the hidden medical room you've set up.

You're not a doctor, but you're resourceful. You had to be. You had to protect your baby.

Setting up the ultrasound, your hands tremble with anxiety. You take deep breaths, trying to stay calm for the sake of your unborn child. Picking up the device, you slowly move it across your belly, your eyes glued to the screen, your ears straining to hear that precious heartbeat.

And then you see it. The tiny flicker on the screen, the reassuring beat that echoes through the room. Your baby is alive. The relief washes over you like a wave, tears prickling your eyes. You breathe out a shaky laugh, one hand coming up to cover your mouth.

"You're okay... oh, thank god, you're okay," you whisper, tears streaming down your face. You continue to stare at the screen, memorizing every curve, every line of your tiny baby. You're so wrapped up in your relief and joy, you don't hear the door creak open.

Miguel, who had silently followed you, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He's staring at you, at the screen, at the clear image of your unborn child.

As Miguel’s gaze moves between the ultrasound screen and you, something inside him snaps. His face contorts, his nostrils flare, and his eyes flash with a fury you have never seen before, turning even more red than usual.

“What is this?! Who is he?!” Miguel’s voice fills the room as he points toward the screen.

“Miguel...” you start, but he cuts you off, his voice now a roar.

“WHO’S IS HE? DIME!” Miguel’s words are like knives, slashing through the air.

You’re cowering back, tears streaming down your face. “Mi... Miguel, please, just...”

“WHO ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH, HUH?” He's practically spitting the words at you, venom dripping from every syllable.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” he bellows. His eyes are wild, his rage all-consuming.

“I... I didn’t... you...” You’re stuttering, trying to get the words out, trying to tell him the truth, but his anger is like a tidal wave, overwhelming you.

And then just like that, in the midst of his rage something changes. His gaze flicks to the ultrasound screen again, and his face goes pale. The room is deathly silent except for your ragged breathing and the rhythmic beating of the baby's heart on the ultrasound monitor.

He blinks. Once. Twice. His voice drops to a whisper. “How... how far along...?”

“Three months,” you manage to whisper back, choking on your tears.

His brain races, the timeline whirring in his head. Realization dawns on him like a cold sunrise.

“Is it...?” His voice is barely audible, a ghost of its former fury.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, Miguel. It’s yours.”

#miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #angst

[sorcerous-caress]

Heyyy!! Could I request the companions taking care of a new baby + a toddler while their partner recovers?

Taking care of the kids while you recover

[Fluff, marriage, raising kids, nb!reader]

[Astarion, Wyll, Gale]

I'm not feeling the best rn so I did just three, i hope you enjoy anon.

Astarion

Seeing that this is your second baby together, he feels less out of his element now. He is more confident in his ability to care for this little bundle of joy with pointy ears cradled in his arms.

He almost doesn't recognise his own self these days. When did his sharp edges grow so soft? When did he become so tender, and when did his eyes become so round and happy?

When you proposed to him that day in the underdark, when you presented him with a modest ring that made him go speechless. He has seen many more glamorous ones, much more expensive ones, but somehow, this simple band with the most precious gem completely took his breath away.

That's how he ended here on this cozy couch with a silver haired toddler running around enthusiastically. Astarion calls them over to gently wipe some crumbs from their face, looking at their innocent adoring eyes.

They had your eyes, he couldn't help but squeeze their adorable cheeks and give them a kiss on the forehead like any dotting father would.

Him, a doting parent? That idea would've made him choke with laughter some years ago.

The ring glimers on his finger as he holds the newborn baby closer to his chest, humming a soothing melody in elvish for his second child. The first stared at him from the side with a pout.

His child was so obvious with their emotions that Astarion couldn't help but chuckle, "Jealously isn't a good look darling, come here." With that, he had another kid cuddling up to him and demanding a lullaby too.

Astarion obliged, relieved that his presence seemed enough for his children at the moment while you were recovering. Part of him was anxious about what if they only wanted you? What if they weren't as attached to him as he thought?

He was never happier to be proven wrong in his life.

Wyll

The sun shines brightly through the thin white curtains in the kitchen. Wyll is mixing together a baby formula on the counter, measuring the right amount on the spoon as he scoops away the extra powder from the top.

Adding the powder into the baby bottle, he gently shakes the warm bottle. The sound of light footsteps approach him in a failed attempt of stealth as a toy wooden sword is pressed against the back of his legs.

"Surrender!" A high voice calls from behind him, his very own kid with determination in their eyes as they press the dull edge of the sword more against Wyll's pants.

"Oh noble hero, may I know what crime am i being accused of before I surrender?" Wyll plays along, a smile painting his lips.

"The crime of!!" His child starts with confidence, "of...." trailing into uncertainty as their grip on the sword falters.

Wyll is patient as he lets them have the time to gather their thought. cleaning and wiping the counter down.

"Of not giving me food!"

"Didn't you just eat your breakfast after stealing my breakfast?" Wyll scooped up his child up in his arm, holding him with one hand while carrying the bottle with the other. His kid kicked their feet in the air as they dropped the wooden sword.

"But dad!! That was hours ago, I'm hungry."

"I clearly recall it being minutes ago."

Moving to the living room where his youngest laid peacefully sleeping in their small rocking bed, Wyll let go of his hold just as he sat on the couch.

Climbing into his lap, the most adorable brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "I want pancakes please" stretching on the end of the word, his kid whined.

With a defeated smile, Wyll agreed to it. Knowing you'd scold him for spoiling the kids too much if you were here right now, still he was weak against them. Somehow, his own kids were more persuasive than any devil this warlock has ever encountered before.

Gale

"There you go, all dry and clean" he said as he started to put on the baby bear onesie back on the giggling infant in front of him, their small hands gripping on Gale's beard with surprising strength as he zipped them up.

Yet the discomfort barely mattered to the wizard, he happily let them play with his face as he admired how adorable they looked in the fluffy animal custom. Smiling and giving their belly a soft kiss to make them laugh even louder.

The loud crash from outside the room barely phased him either as he kept coddling the infant, calling them endearing names and cradling them in his arms. "Papa's here, no need to fret."

"MR.DEKARIOS!" Tara's screech followed shortly after, "your presence is required immediately!"

Still too busy entranced by how adorable his child was, Gale took slow steps out of the room, contouring harmless light tricks to impress his youngest.

The sight that met him was one that would've probably given his younger self a heart attack no doubt, the countless torn pages of books thrown around the floor, the spilled ink and the crumbled magical scrolls.

But as the years went by, he found himself mellowing out much more. Very few things phased him by now, especially with how ironic life tended to be. The fates must be snickering right now. to give him a kid with wild magic in their veins, brimming with sorcery from such a young age.

You usually kept them in line, Gale was too guilty of being an enbaler as you've put it. It's not his fault he thought his kid was the coolest person in all the realms.

"Books are for losers!" Ah, there they stood, his own flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos of papers and magic, a potted plant.

A talking potted plant.

"Did your magic surge again?" Gale could only feel amusement as he leaned down to pick up his child, making sure to hold it far away from his other child so they don't nibble on the leaves of their sibling.

It seemed like both his cat and his child prefered to continue their argument. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense before! Mr.Dekarios, would you please get your spawn in line." Tara, his beloved elegant tressym, was flying around him in an attempt to smack the plant with her soft paws.

With a giggling wobbling infant on his right arm and a potted plant polymorphed kid on his left, Gale effortlessly casted the necessary incantations to reverse the polymorph while avoiding Tara's claws.

A poof of sparkling light filled the room as a full toddler replaced the potted plant, Tara blinded by the light, crashed into them and they all stumbled down onto stacks of torn papers.

The three of them buried under the pile, only the fluffy bear onsie wearing emerged unharmed on top.

#♡Gale #♡Astarion #♡Wyll #♡Fluff #♡marriage #♡raising kids #astarion x reader #gale x reader #wyll x reader #fluff #wholesome #raising kids #marriage au #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader

[tired-but-willing]

Seriously No rush and no pressure but please continue to bless us with some poly Ronal/Tonowari x reader shit 🧎‍♀️

I’m down bad for them especially after reading your “tattoos” 🫶

Morning Light

Pairing: Tonowari & Ronal / GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,520

Warnings: So much fluff I had to question if I should delete some. No spoilers for the Way of Water.

Summary: The world is changing around you, but for now, in your home, there is peace.

Light streamed in through the woven walls of your home. You had yet to open your eyes, yet you knew the sun was waiting. You felt the warmth of it on your closed eyelids. With a long yawn, you stretched, extending your legs to their limit to bring life back into your tired body. You attempted to roll over and found your plans thwarted by a weight resting on your waist. You itched to investigate it, but you were so tired. You reached up and nudged at it with your hands. "It" was an arm. You wrapped your fingers around it the best that you could and lifted it up into the air. A puff of air disturbed the strands of hair atop your head.

"What are you doing?" Tonowari rumbled from behind you, halfheartedly trying to pull his arm from your grip. He had been comfortable before you decided you wanted to capture the limb and wave it around aimlessly.

"You are heavy," you replied. "Crushing me."

He let out another puff and successfully escaped your grasp, returning his arm to its rightful place, wrapped around your middle. "Enough drama."

"Drama?" Now you opened your eyes. Indignant, you turned over to face him. "I am not dramatic. You are heavy. You are so-"

"What is happening?" Ronal, who had once laid with her back to your chest, was now awake. She sat upright, her eyes still lidded and drowsy. "Why are you talking? It is early."

"The duties of a Tsahìk begin early," Tonowari stated. His tone made it obvious that he wasn't serious. From where you lay, you could see how his eyes sparkled with mirth when he addressed your mate.

"The duties of an Olo'eyktan should be silence." Ronal's retort was quick. She had a fast working mind and a tongue that was somehow just as swift. Even with your back to her, you could feel the look she shot Tonowari. Then the netting beneath you dipped and she laid down once more. You felt her arm slip around your waist and gasped, finding that you were effectively kept from moving once more.

"What did I just say?" You asked. "Heavy. I can't breathe."

"You can breathe fine," said Tonowari. "We are close. I feel your breath."

You very pointedly took a gulp of air, no longer breathing. He was right; you were lying so close that he could feel your every exhale on his chest. So you simply wouldn't exhale. He stared down at you.

"Are you serious?" He asked. "What is this?"

"No acting like children." Ronal abruptly squeezed your middle, robbing you of the precious oxygen you had stored in your lungs and forcing you to breathe normally again. When you tried to hold your breath a second time, she jabbed her fingers into your side, ripping a laugh from your throat as she exclaimed your name.

"No!" You shrieked between fits of breathless laughter, reaching down to push at her hand. "Ronal! Mercy!"

"Why?" She caught your hand with her other, which you hadn't seen coming. "You are behaving like a child."

"This is childish!" You wailed, tipping your head back so you could attempt to get a look at her. "I have done no wrong. It was him!"

"Him?" Ronal stopped her assault on your sides, letting you catch your breath. "Is this true, Tonowari?"

"I have never behaved as anything other than an adult," he responded, leaning forward and kissing the top of her head. You were fully prepared to joke about how you felt left out- fake whining and all- but he was one step ahead of you. He kissed your head as well, silencing your future complaint. "It is not something that sounds like me."

You rolled your eyes, exaggerating the movement just to be sure that he saw it. "The clan may think that, but I know better."

"Do you?" A playful grin came to his face. You had no time to reply before he retreated from you, his arm slipping away from your waist. Suddenly you missed it. Sure, it had crushed you into the netting, but it was a comfortable crush. You sat up, bringing Ronal with you, as she had yet to let go of your middle. She seemed perfectly content to hold onto you as you went about waking up.

Who were you to complain? You were content with it too.

"Come back," you commanded. "It is cold."

"It is morning," he replied. "The sun will come soon."

"I miss you."

"Do you?" He glanced back at you and Ronal. "Maybe I will come back. In exchange."

"In exchange?" You narrowed your eyes. To your left, Ronal had begun to busy herself, no longer engaged in the conversation between you and Tonowari. Her fingers traced the numerous tattoos on your arm. Tattoos which she herself had done. You could remember each of them. You shuddered, the reaction instinctive as her fingertips brushed your shoulder blade.

"In exchange for an apology." He sat down across from you. "I feel slighted."

"You are slighted."

"____." His expression carried only amusement. His lips were curved into a smirk that was reserved for only you and your other lover. To the clan, he was a tough but benevolent leader. A strong man with a gentle heart. For you and Ronal, there was only gentleness. Only love. That love carried a playfulness that you loved, and you wouldn't quite admit that you wish you saw more.

Ronal's hand touched your lower back, remaining there. Your posture went rigid. Her palm was warm on your skin. Warm, but rough. Her skin was worn from years of hard work as both Tsahìk and a hunter. You loved it; you didn't need physical softness. You only needed her and Tonowari.

Tonowari, who you knew you would not be receiving until the stubborn man got his apology. With a dramaticized sigh, you dipped you head.

"I am sorry for slighting you. Come back before I freeze to death."

He laughed. The sound was a low rumble that came straight from his chest. He scooted forward and joined you once more, reaching up and cradling your face in a hand. His palm was close to the size of your head. It was easy to lean into it, basking in the warmth that his skin gave off. Amusement brought a smile to his lips.

"Better?" He asked.

"Much." You leaned in with a satisfied smile of your own, brushing your lips against his. "Stay."

"Always," he responded. The kiss that followed was nothing short of perfect. Kissing Tonowari was something out of a fantasy. No matter how long you had been lovers, and no matter how many times you kissed him, it always felt as though it was your first. He was impossibly gentle, holding you like you were something that could shatter should he make a wrong move. You were far from fragile- something both of you knew- but you still enjoyed being handled with such care.

Saying you separated from the kiss when you were satisfied would be a lie. If you had it your way, you could kiss him forever. But there was another factor to take into consideration; that being you wanted to kiss Ronal too. You doubted anyone would blame you if they were in your position. Your lovers were simply flawless. You would spend all the time in the world with them if given the chance.

Ronal's hand dropped to your waist when you turned your head to her. At the same time, Tonowari took the hint, removing his hand from your waist and settling it on your thigh instead.

"I see you have everything sorted out," she said wryly. You scoffed, playful.

"I am good with negotiation. I learned from the best."

"Certainly not him."

Tonowari squeezed your thigh gently, making his indignation known. "I am plenty good at negotiating."

You laughed and pat his hand. In truth, he was wonderful with negotiation. Wonderful with his words. Others naturally liked and trusted him. The other villages respected him greatly. You couldn't be prouder. Yet, you weren't going to focus on that right now. Your sights were set elsewhere.

"I can show you," you offered. "I am very good at it."

"I learn through experience," said Ronal. She sounded like she was on the verge of laughter, causing you to almost dissolve into a fit of giggles as well. When you kissed her, you were still smiling against her lips from your joke.

You spent the morning like that; lazily exchanging affections with both of your mates. All of your duties could wait. Tonowari could hunt in the noon. There were no sick for Ronal to see to. And of course, with your Olo'eyktan permitting it, there was no need for you to hunt yet either.

There were duties to be completed later on, but for now, for this moment, there was no need to worry. There was peace in your home, and in your village. You would do whatever it took to be sure it stayed that way.

#avatar the way of water x reader #avatar 2 #tonowari x reader #tonowari x ronal #tonowari #ronal x reader #ronal #request

[moronkombat]

Straight to it, Bi Han finds his wife dead 😘🥰😍

tw: character death, afab pronouns used

god this ask is blessed

Wind blows lightly, the breeze is warm and pleasant. Loose strands of pure ebony wisp past the curve of a cheek bone while eyes just as dark look to a gathering of flowers so perfectly planted. Bi-Han watches as petals fall limp and wrinkled, flora beginning the end of its life. There's a hand holding his, so much smaller than his own, yet the weight heavier than any mountain.

He hears her speaking and notices her adoring smile. She is beautiful, really, a grand masterpiece of humanity's kindness. Bi-Han loves her more than he can love anything else. She knows this, he never has to say it. He need only look upon her and his heart shines through his gaze.

They stood together in their garden as they always did before Bi-Han had to go. This their own little sanctuary where time stops. They should have never left that place.

Heart pounds in his chest, legs carry him faster and faster. Blood has spattered and drenched him while he runs through hallways that seem almost endless. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This meant to be between him and the Tengu and yet they have pulled that which is most precious to Bi-Han in its horrible grasp.

Ice continues to pierce those who stand in his way and the blood is so heavy upon his skin. He cannot stop, he must find her. Bi-Han knows the Tengu have her, they had told him as much. Their bodies are ripped and torn as the frantic man searches for his kidnapped wife.

The corpses have led him to some place dark but her light still shines through. There she stands, held by hands Bi-Han wishes to slice. Her eyes...she is terrified. She quivers and shakes while tears dirty her face. Bi-Han rages, an internal war erupts. Beast like eyes stare at the one who holds her from him and fingers twitch and become frigid.

"I'll kill you..." Bi-Han rasps through his bloodstained mask and everything within him begins to shake.

The Tengu looks at him, unafraid and resilient. He hums something that Bi-Han doesn't catch before eyes begin to crinkle into a smile.

"I know." He says. "But I will destroy you."

No! Bi-Han lunges forward, the ice that runs in his veins manifesting into life. Life really is a fickle thing. Blades catch the dimmed light of the room and beam with the strength of the sun. Sharpened and refined metal cuts through the air before it embraces flesh. Ribs begin to crack, blood begins to pour and her shriek lasts only but a moment before lungs are lacerated by a Tengu's wrath.

Blood flies through the air and paints a man most terrified. Droplets of her warm and scalding blood find themselves colliding onto Bi-Han's cheek as he reaches forward for her. Eyes widen while hers begin to fade dim. There's a scream. One inhuman and broken apart. As she falls, ice cuts through her attacker's throat and a life is ended.

Before that wretched Tengu body and even hit the floor, Bi-Han is cradling his dear wife who gasps and writhes in pain. His eyes look over her, blood is pooling from her wound even as his hands attempt to stop it.

"No, no, no, no-" Bi-Han panics, cold hands covered in burning crimson as a palm lays against her chest. "It's going to be alright, it's going to be okay-"

She knows he is lying but her words cannot form. Too trapped by the gasps for breath and cries of pain. Her blood is spilling faster now, it falls from her lips and runs down her chin like a flowing stream. The visage of him begins to blur until there is nothing but an obscured void.

"Stay with me now...!" his words all she has left to cling to but even they begin to echo and fade.

Her gasps, her pained whines...they are gone now. She is gone. An empty body is left in her place, limp and heavy. Bi-Han's eyes dart around her, a hand coated in red cups her cheek. He called out her name but she merely stares back at him with hazy eyes and bloody lips. Bi-Han's trembling body now crumbles apart and he cradles her just as he did when they were alone in that very special garden. The garden they never should have departed from.

He cries, he wails, begging her to speak to him, to hold him like she always did. She cannot, her body no better than the corpses he left behind. There's hurried clatter, the sound of footsteps approaching. Two younger brothers stand in the doorway, staring at the sight they should have never seen.

They stand together, Tomas and Kuai Liang looking at each other. Both are unsure of what to say as they watch their eldest brother sob and hold onto an empty husk of what was once the love of his life.

Bi-Han's mind is lost to him. He begs and pleads for her to awaken; he screams in the agony of pure destruction. The one he cries for cannot hear him. The wind blows lightly, the breeze cold and haunting.

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #bi han #mk1 bi han #bi han x you #bi han x reader

[mae-falling-in-may]

My Little Flower | The Darkling x Fem!Reader

I wrote this just after finishing the season 2 of Shadow And Bone, it broke me so like it's a bit of a comfort fic I guess ? Just the way Aleksander was possessive of Alina made me feel things and I'm sorry about this... just a few heads up, I'm no Alina hater (I love her) I just needed to add a bit of tension in this, and also this is the first time I fully write smut AND that I post it on the internet. I'm very self conscious about smut because huh, I'm not the best writer in the world and english is not my first language. I still do hope you'll like it, I had fun writing it !!

Pairing : The Darkling x Fem!Reader

Warnings : very light spoilers, SMUT, jealous reader, kinda possessive!dark!aleksander ? established relationship, claiming, oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (protect urselves pls), p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, 18+ only MINORS DNI!!!

Summary : Aleksander comes back from the dead, you feel your heart drop when you see him, darker than ever, the scars on his face making you feel weak. He's determined to get the sun summoner, and you're scared that he's drifting from you, but he will show you who you belong to.

Words : 3k

He came back. The one who held you with just one finger, the one who could get you on your knees just with one word. General Kirigan, your General. Hearing what happened in the Fold with the sun summoner and him, broke you. Hell, you didn't know if what happened between you two meant something to him, but you would do anything to make him feel at least something.

My little flower he called you, away from all curious glances. That was the nickname he gave to you, and you held it. You answered it, maybe he called you to have you by his side forever, only for his plans, maybe it was just all an act, but heck, you fell deeply. You fell so deep that nothing would ever make you betray him. You wanted to be with him until you'll be killed in the field, or even just died at his own hands. Whether it was love or a crazy obsession, seeing him alive made your heart much lighter than it was before. You clenched your fists, dangerously planting your nails in your own flesh to keep you from running to him.

His silhouette, his voice, his dark gaze, and his newfound scars, everything about him made your breath hitch. All you could think of right now while he was walking towards other grishas and you, were absolutely disgusting thoughts about how you would go under him to help him relieve himself. You unconsciously held your breath while he was walking towards you. He approached dangerously, all of your body was calling you to be at his service. You gasped for air when he spoke to you.

"My little flower." He whispered, really close to your face so no one could hear him talk. "I'm glad that my most precious Grisha is here." 

You didn't manage to form a proper sentence, you were just stuttering words, and Aleksander saw how you were so emotional. You could only whisper the words: "You're alive.", before bursting into tears. He gently took you into his arms and shushed you.

"It's okay, little flower. I am back, and I'll need you more than anything for what we'll accomplish. Come and join me after dinner please ?" You could only nod while letting your tears drop freely.

~

"I need the Little Saint, you need to locate her, quickly, I want every information you have on her or anyone who's with her, you hear me ?" The tension in the room was heavy, all you could do with your fellow Grishas was to answer "Yes, General." You all waited for him to dismiss every one of you, and with a flick of his hands, he did. They left the room, as you stayed and waited for anything that he could ask you to do. Anything. You heard him shift into his armchair, and when you let yourself stare at him, your mind raced.

She was the one that caused all of this, seeing your General in this state made your heart clench. If only she listened to him, or you had been her, your General wouldn't be suffering like that. A deep cough startled you and your gaze got on Aleksander again, he was sick. You rushed towards him, obviously worried. You kneeled before him, putting a hand on his back and the other one on his knee.

"My General, are you unwell? What happened there ?" The shakiness of your voice betrayed you. 

"Flower." He whispered. "I… It's my new power. The nichevo'ya, they're shadow creatures. They defend me when I'm in danger." He locked his eyes into yours, dark and full of fatigue. You felt him drifting off from you. An explosive wave of emotions passed through you when he looked at you. Was it worry? Hatred for the Sun Summoner? Jealousy? Or just everything that you felt for the General was crashing down deep into your being. You gulped, your mind going from one worry to another, then you asked him quietly.

"Is there anything I can do, my General ?" He lowered his head and waited a bit before answering. "I fear that I do not have a solution for my state right now, flower. I just need… The Sun Summoner, Alina…" He stopped himself, what for? You didn't know, but everything collapsed around you. He didn't need you, the nickname he gave you meant nothing. All you could do was make him feel a bit better about this. You'll bring him back Alina, you swore on your life that you'll do anything for him right? Then you'll do it, even though it will hurt more than you admitted. 

You stood up, he looked at you, confusion and worry in his eyes. You tried to compose yourself and explained.

"I swore on my life that I'll do anything for you, General, if you want the Sun Summoner, I'll bring her back to you, even if I have to die trying to." You waited for an answer, an approval, anything, he stayed silent. You finally turned to leave the room, the sound of your steps resonating on the walls. You didn't want to leave, you wanted to stay, but hell seeing him like that hurt. You were about to open the door and leave when he stopped you with his voice.

"Flower. Please." You heard him stand up, and slow steps coming towards you. "You're the only one that can help me right now. Are you rejecting me? Your General ?" You felt tears building up again, you didn't know how you could tell him how you feel, having him obsessing over his Little Saint was so painful. But did you really have your right to speak up about it? You were just a Grisha, like any other Grisha here, you weren't her, yet you wanted to be her. You faced him back, letting your tears drop freely over your cheeks.

"How could I reject you when I'm not even yours, General? I know you need her, and I know I'll never be her, I've accepted it. Let me accomplish this for you, my General." You sounded hurt, exhausted, and deeply in love. He was dangerously approaching you by now, and for the first time in months, or hell maybe even years, he spoke your name. Not calling you Flower, like he loved to, just your name. He whispered it, and it felt so good on his lips. He cupped your face with his hand softly making you look at him, he seemed hurt.

"You don't understand. Yes, she is the Sun Summoner, and yes, I need her for every reason I already told you. But, what she is not, and will never be, is my precious little Flower. And you know who this is right? You, you belong to me, and I belong to you. I'll never deny that I wished you were the Sun Summoner, so we could accomplish everything together." Even with this, you couldn't believe him, your mind repeated to you that you meant nothing to him and that you weren't her. Even with his hand on your cheek, you couldn't let yourself breathe for him.

"Please, General, don't make me hope for something that I'm unworthy of." Something seemed to snap inside him when he heard the word "unworthy". He abruptly put his arm around your waist and pushed your body towards him with his hand on your back. The hurt gaze he wore before turned into something different, into something frightening.

"Do not use this word to qualify yourself, my flower. You are way more than that. You're my most precious Grisha, my most precious ally, and my dear, dear, friend." His words were spilled like tasty poison, so dangerous but yet, so good. You couldn't help but whimper under his touch. You knew how Aleksander could be possessive, but you simply refused to let yourself believe you were in his catalog. 

Hearing you whimper satisfied him, he let a small smile creep on his face, and he slowly buried his face into your neck. "If you don't believe my words maybe I'll need to show you who you belong to, flower." He kissed your neck, making a path towards your jaw, then your lips. He made sure to dry your tears before kissing you, you sighed into him, your arms making their way to his shoulders. You felt helpless whenever he touched you like this, thinking of nothing more but to please him right now, in this room.

He broke the kiss that left you both breathless, he took a moment to look at you, your eyes, your face, lips, jaw, and neck, and he felt you burning for him. He loves the hold that he had on you. "To bed, without your clothes, please." Even if he would love ripping out your kefta from your body, to expose all of yourself to him, he couldn't, he already had to deal with the million layers of his outfit. So he just followed you to the bed, while you were removing your boots, then your kefta, and then everything that went under it. He was getting rid of his clothing too, but getting distracted by how beautiful you looked for him, his hands stopped doing what he originally wanted to do, and your voice interrupted the silence.

"Do you need help, General ?" You were almost fully naked in front of him, a wave of arousal went through his body, making wearing pants uncomfortable. He nodded at you first, then when you were getting rid of his first few layers of clothes he spoke again.

"Please flower, tonight, only call me by my name. Can you do that ?" You eagerly nodded while you were getting rid of his final upper layer, revealing his scarred torso to you. You let your fingers trail on some of them, wanting to kiss every bit of scars he had on his body. He smiled, loving your admiration and worship, he missed it. He took your wrists in his hand and smiled down at you. 

"I know how much you love to worship me, flower, but not yet, you'll do it when I pump my cock deep inside of you. Right now I want to have you at my mercy and show you who this beautiful body belongs to. You hear me ?" You nodded, unable to form more than one word because of his power over you.

"Words, flower." He removed the last bit of clothes that kept you from being naked, exposing you to him. You stuttered "Yes, I understand Aleksander.", that seemed to please him a lot. He pushed you onto the bed, making his way on top of you. He still had his pants on, enjoying the friction of the fabric when his cock was getting bigger with arousal.

"This time it will be me who worships you. I'm going to taste you and make you scream." You whimpered, while he was kissing your neck, making his way painfully slowly toward your breasts. He kissed them softly before trailing down to your stomach, then your hips. He guided you to open your legs for him and found his hands gripping the back of your thighs. He kissed the inside of your thigh before finally making his way to your perfect already wet cunt. You were this wet since the intense kiss you shared earlier, and the more you felt his touch, the more you would be needy for him. 

He first lapped your pussy, to take a taste out of it, then completely buried his face into it. You weren't ready, it's been so long since you felt any kind of pleasure down there, you gasped and moaned, already on the verge of screaming. And he was just getting started? You knew you were about to break under him. The obscene noises of him tasting all of you made your head spin. He was eating you out like he wouldn't be able to do it after. The tip of his nose was making friction with your clit, and his tongue inside of you. He groaned under you, you were delicious, and he would not get over how delicious you tasted. 

Your moans and the noises he made by tasting you filled the entire room. He was almost tongue-fucking you as you felt your release build-up. You struggled to align proper sentences, just letting out the same words, "Saints, please, Aleksander". He loved how his name sounded on your lips when you were about to come for him, but he would be sure to make you scream it. 

"I'm going to make you cum for me, flower. I want you to scream my name when you do. I don't care if anyone hears, they'll just know who you belong to. You're mine, flower."

He then sucked on your clit and took two fingers to pump them inside of you. You screamed at the newfound sensation of his fingers, and your back arched while you were begging for a release. You were so desperate for him and it made his cock ache under the layer of his pants. He wanted to stop right here and bury himself inside of you just to feel you come around him. He sucked your clit even harder and teased your folds with his fingers. His other hand squeezed your thigh as he felt you crumble under his touch. He knew you were close, you were already losing your mind, and the moans you let out were incoherent at this point. 

“I know you’re close, flower, cum for me.” You screamed his name while hanging onto the bed sheets. The heat of your orgasm flew all over your body, your back arched and your legs were trembling. The delicious feeling of your release was overwhelming, you soaked Aleksander’s face. He pulled out his fingers slowly and kissed one last time your clit, then your cunt. He straightened up so you could see his face better, his hair was a mess and he was panting. He crushed his lips onto yours hungrily, making you taste the mix of your juices and his spit. You moaned against him, your hands finding their way to his groin. You stroked the length of his cock through the fabric. You wished he was fully naked right now, so you could feel him completely. He hummed into your lips and helped you get rid of his pants.

He broke the kiss to fully remove his clothes, which was a relief to both of you. He felt uncomfortable with the hard-on he had since he had first kissed you. And you, you wanted to please him, to have the taste of his cock on your tongue, to suck him so good so he could not think about anything else but you. But you knew it wasn't part of the plan today. You saw his cock already so hard and ready to be buried inside you. You bit your lip at the thought of it, you haven't had anyone since he left for the Fold with Alina, and god you missed him.

He went back once he was fully naked to kiss the corner of your lips. "I know what's on your mind, flower. You missed me, haven't you ?" He continued to kiss your cheek, your jaw, and your neck while placing himself between your legs. You felt him lightly stroke the tip of his cock on the opening of your pussy which made you moan. "Oh, Saints, yes I've missed you Aleksander." You felt him smile on your neck while caressing your body until his hands found your hips. He faced you once again and looked at you fondly with his dark eyes. 

He licked his lips, seeing you desperate for him, he knew you were about to beg for him to fuck you. He didn't even wait for you to say a word that he pumped into you. The feeling and the heat of his cock were oddly overwhelming, and you felt you could cum right here. "I'm gonna fuck you so good, my flower." You couldn't help but moan a please, to indicate that you needed him to move. He smiled and started to thrust into you painfully slowly. 

The rhythm he gave was making you feel every inch of his heat inside of you, you were almost trembling. But you wanted more, you begged once again and put your arms around his shoulders. "Please, Aleksander, I need more." Hearing his name falling through your lips while you were begging felt so good. He let out a curse and started to move into you harder and faster. Both of you loved being in each other's arms so you were on the verge of losing your minds.

The room was filled with your moans, the sound of both your skin slapping on each other, Aleksander's light panting while he was thrusting into you, and the obscene wet sounds of his cock going in and out of your soaked cunt. You wanted this moment to last forever, to have Aleksander all for yourself. The sound he made while fucking you was pushing you closer and closer to your release, and he felt it too. "Flower come on my cock with me please ?" You could only nod, overwhelmed by these sensations.

"I want to fill you up, love, can I ?" It was the first time he called you that, you couldn't even process the name you just wanted the both of you to cum. You almost screamed "Yes, please Aleksander.", you were so loud for him, so good to him, you'd never let him go. 

The wave of your orgasm reached you when his thrusts became erratic. Your cunt clenched around him as he finally got the release you seek. You felt his hot seed splashing into you, while he reached to kiss you again while filling you completely. You moaned against his mouth, enjoying everything he gave you. 

"You're mine, my little flower, mine only."

#shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #reader insert #the darkling x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling smut #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes

[tokkiwrites]

FAWN HEART, PART ONE : The night's desire.

dark!joel miller x f!reader

summary: After a few months of being together, you move in with your boyfriend, 'Adam'. His landlord, Joel Miller, takes a special liking to you.

tags: murder, stalking, spying, mention of abuse, mention of blood, violence, age gap, vulnerable reader, stalker joel, mentions of abusive relationship, pet names, she/her pronouns (let me know if i missed anything.)

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ staring my first series ever !! of course, I will continue it only if this first part does well ( so no spice for now!! ). for now, we're starting off a bit mild, & I'm leaning more on the double storylines . this is short with only 1.5k words, but it's a little gift since i was gone for so long. sorry if it sucks! remember, requests are opened, and your feedback matters the most to me 🐰

【commencing】 : a heart as soft as the embrace of spring. She welcomed everyone with open arms, seeing the best in people, and never turned anyone away, no matter the pain. Her kindness boundlessㅡ she gave without expecting anything in return. But this gentle nature often left her defenseless. she continued to believe in the goodness of others, her fawn heart resilient and unwavering, oblivious to those trampling on it. her fawn heart, her weakness.

「may 04th ㅡ O2:08 AM」

he didn't know her. didn't deserve her. the nerve he had saying he loved her when he doesn't know what love is...he doesn't know what kind of love she needed.

so when he left for work every night, her true love would sneak in. Joel wasn't the romantic type, but for her, he'd do it all. he'd sit there, watching her sleep, staring as her soft lips puffed out when she took her shallow breaths as she slept - how her lashes laid so perfectly onto her cheeks.. that's all he could do - stare. no touching. It killed him. how that asshole could do all that he pleased to her and how she would accept almost nothing in return.

she was sweet. bitterly. her soft, gaze a testament to the trials she's been through. she could've had so much more, yet she chose this moron. Joel couldn't understand why? not just why she chose that - but why everything when it came to her. why? everything about her, she was an enigma. when Joel first set eyes on her, that's all he could think of. why? and how? how could he have lived so long without his angel by his side.

that was 6 months ago. Tonight, it's a little less cold outside- its may, and the summer smell fills the air, as branches sway next to the window in a tireless dance. cars sound in the distance, as late night chatter of the streets fill Joel's ears and her scent his nose. drowning - suffocating him in the anticipation that maybe for one night he'd have her. he never wanted to scare her - to hurt her. she's precious, a porcelain statuette he had to have. Joel was adamant. kissing her only with his gaze, he got up only as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, and the chickadees started their long-awaited song.

「june17th ㅡ O8:42 PM」

late again. he's always late, letting her wait with no sign for hours. it was his birthday, not that Joel cared, but the thin walls provided him with utmost soundㅡ any and all sounds.

she was crying, and he didn't want to budge in making it weird for her, but his heart twisted when he knew she wasted tears on a shit-head like Adam.

but he let his heart get the best of him, and maybe, just maybe, this was the moment when he let his heart dictate, and she finally realizes that she's better than that. better than Adam. Better for Joel. He makes his way to the apartment next door, thinking if he should be honest with her or make up a lame excuse like late payment on utilities or donations for a new front door. He knocked twice, his palms sweaty. This girl made him feel all giddy like a teenager again, heart racing, his dreams full of her. The door cracks open, revealing just half of her red, puffy face with make-up pushed around.

"Y-yesㅡ"

"Hey, there, Iㅡ is everything alright, fawn darling?" his eyes furrow, a weight settling down in his stomach. he couldn't stand seeing her like this. her eyes finally reach his, a glint of gratitude glimmering within them. "hi, Mr.Miller. I'm fine justㅡ" she sighs. "Adam bailed on me.. again!" she tries to laugh it off, wave it as a joke, but the pain in her spirit is apparent. "Sorry if i was, you know... crying too loud. I'll keep it down -"

"fawn...darlin', you know-" Joel's gaze softened "you know you can always come to me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on. As corny as that sounds, 'm all here for ya." looking down at her, he dares not break eye contact.

"Thank you, Mr.Miller.."

"I told you to call me Joel, didn't I?" he tsks, straightening his back. "I feel too old when you call me mister.." Joel admits, in a playful manner. "Got it. Joel." How it rolls off her tongue like honey. how he wants to lick off every drop and indulge into her like the powerful drug she is, so deeply coursing through his being, wishing he'd hear her scream his name underneath him one day. "Right, so- if you ever want anythin'.." he scratches his rough beard. "I'm one door away."

"Thank you, Joel." she steps out barefoot, throwing herself into Joel's arms, hugging him whilst her sweet perfume envelopes them both. Joel breathes inㅡ so close. At last, the hug is broken, and she scurries back inside, leaving Joel stuck in his fantasy.

"My sweet fawn."

「july 3rd ㅡ OO:35 AM」

"Why so hostile, little bird? I thought you liked it when i touched you like this.. a little rough." he rasped, voice scratching at her chest like a knife. "Adam, you're drunk. let's justㅡ get inside." she manages to huff out as her palms lay flat on Adam's chest, pushing him away. "Baby- c'mon, be a doll."

"stop, Adamㅡ stop!" you could hear the frustration in her voice, and the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.

he couldn't just stand there and witness this. he'd regret it forever, unquestionably. " 's everything alright here?" Joel tries to play it cool. He doesn't want to let off too muc. Hee doesn't want it to escalateㅡ for her to get hurt.

" Mr.Millerㅡ"

"Yeah, none of your business, man. Just leave, okay?" Adam scoffs, staring down the hallway where he heard Joel's voice, thinking to himself,'what this old geezer was doing up so late'. "careful, boy. don't want ya to hurt your pretty lady, ok? just makin' sure everything is -"

"yeah, i fucking said everything is alright, so mind your fucking business, dude!" he spat "Jesus, man." Joel does nothing but smile. Does this Adam guy know what he has gotten himself into? Surely not.

He stretches his neck, making it crack as he takes one step closer to where the couple was. By this time, she was already starting to panic, soft pleads leaving her mouth as that jerk held onto her frame, shaking it up whilst he threw rude remarks towards Joel.

"Let go of her, boy."

"Fuck outta here, old ass. Don't make me come to you, I'm not nice when I'm drunk."

"Oh, I know." Joel promptly comes closer so that only a part of his face is visible by the light of the moon shining through the large window.

"Adam, let's just -"

"Quiet, bitch!" With a swift turn, Adam managed to deliver a harsh backhanded slap to her head, the pounding pain sending her a few steps back, right into the wall. "See, if you weren't here I would've gotten some pussy tonight. But you had to show up." Adam laughs, shaking his hand to recover from the hit. "You a knight in shining armor, or what?"

"You apologize to her, before I rip your fucking legs off and shove them up your sorry ass." Joel was calm. he tried his hardest to not run towards her, embrace her in his tight armsㅡ but he had other plans for now.

"Spare me the threats, old man. one wrong move, and your whole body dislocates." Adam laughs hungrily, shoving joel. or at least attempting. " I don't even know why you care so much. This bitch was onto me the whole night, but when its time to finally get the dick she shys away." he raises his arm again, oblivious to the knife Joel had aimed straight to his jugular, all this time, impatiently thirsting over the thought of Adam's blood gushing onto him. At first Adam is confused, but as he catches a glimpse of Joel's dark grin in the moonlight he finally realizes― he'd been stabbed.

with one palm over his mouth, joel grabs Adam closer, the knife slitting further into his flesh, now reaching his ear.

"You gotta know how to respect your elders, boy." Joel sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, staring deep into Adams eyes as he retracts the knife and promptly shoves it right between his eyes, with enough force that you could hear a faint 'crunch' sound. "ㅡand your lady." In a failed attempt to reach for the girl that was frozen in place, Adams pathetically tries to grab onto her dress as he collapses to the ground.

everything is silent for a moment.

So she stood there, watching as the blood from the splayed body pooled at her feet, the only sounds bouncing off the walls that bathed in darkness were her short breaths and slow steps approaching to where she practically turned to stone.

"'s alright, baby fawn . he can't hurt you no more. i promise."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader

[justfangirlstuffs]

Heart of Glass

A friend of mine finally talked me into reading LDR and this was the result. Takes place after chapter 13. LDR belongs to @spadillelicious

At your wit's end, you decide to try and have a normal time with Sun before opening hours.

cw: suggestive

You x Sun

wordcount: 2040

You came into work feeling a little more rested than you have been in the past few days. You chanced taking a quick glance around for Moon but the janitor was doing a good job of making himself discreet, and you couldn't exactly blame him given recent events. A knot formed in the pit of your stomach and you rubbed at your temples. 

You missed the days when your greatest concern at work was customer service, or not making a total fool of yourself while skating, or… confessing to your crush. It was beyond agonizing how your world had gone from bright and sure to being filled with shadows of uncertainty at every corner overnight. And each day the shadows seemed to grow bigger and more numerous. It almost made you wish you could go back to the days of blissful ignorance before you knew the horrible, horrible truth.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Sun chirped from behind you, causing you to jump nearly a foot in the air. He placed both hands on your shoulders to steady you before you could fall over. “Careful there. You don't even have your skates on and already you're unbalanced.” He gave a soft, playful chuckle in your ear that made your heart squeeze in your chest and your breath catch in your lungs. 

“M-Morning, Sun,” you forced out, trying to simulate even a sliver of the cheer he was radiating..

“You're here early  again  I see, perfect. That means we can get more practice in. I'll make an expert skater out of you yet,” Sun declared, giving a spin and winking at you. 

You gave a soft snort in answer, doubting his claims. Your clumsiness on wheels aside… A dark thought pervaded your mind… would you even live long enough for that to happen? You stared up at Sun, seeing the eagerness in his body language, the way he was practically bouncing in his roller skates, the way his eyes were lit up with excitement and anticipation. He was eager to get you on the roller rink. His dance floor. 

You considered him, and you considered one of your more recent conversations. His confession about the mixtape, how it meant everything to him, how he’d kissed it and handled it like the most precious of treasures. A part of you desperately wanted to believe his words, that he would never hurt you, that he wanted to keep you safe and protect you. But your mind was still swirling in a fog of doubt and fear. 

After what you saw him do you didn't know what to believe anymore. You didn't want to think that all those months of you and him had been a lie. But if they had been… would he really be trying so hard? And then another thought occurred to you, a crazy and possibly insane thought. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to keep Sun endeared to you. If his feelings were really as true as he claimed, then perhaps keeping him on your side might be the smart thing to do. You felt like such a scuzz for even thinking that but it wasn't just about self-preservation on your part. You really did miss your friend. Your Sun. 

“Not this time,” you said, straightening your back and puffing out your chest a little bit. “This time we're going on to MY dance floor.” 

Sun stared down at you, his eyes widening in surprise as he blinked at you. Clearly, you had caught him off guard. “Oh?” The sound was drawn out, laced with intrigue, and his rays gave a little spin. “Do tell. Where is this said dance floor?” 

Swallowing down all of your nerves -and they went down as smoothly as a thick wad of dried bread, with no water to wash it down- you took Sun by the hand and pulled him towards the DJ booth. He gave a soft giggle clearly intrigued as he let you tug him along, his roller skates gliding easily along the floor. When you got to the DJ booth you began flipping through the vinyls looking for the record you had in mind. 

“Skates off," you told him. 

Once again Sun was taken aback by your request. “Sunshine, this is a skating rink,” he reminded you. 

“Oh, what's the matter?” You asked, throwing him a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk. “Afraid I'll show you up?” 

Sun laughed and it was the first genuine laugh you heard since... you shook your head. No you couldn't let those thoughts frazzle you now. Not when you had a good flow going. “Someone is feeling daring today,” Sun remarked, and he sounded pleased as punch about it. “All right, then. We’ll play by your rules.” 

While Sun changed out of his skates and into his casual footwear, you searched for a particular vinyl. It didn’t take you long to find what you were looking for, and once you got it set up, the music started and Heart of Glass by Blondie began blaring over speakers. You turned to face Sun and then you begin to move your hips to the music, doing a shuffle as your elbows and knees popped to the beat. 

Sun gazed at you in utter awe. “I didn't know you could dance, sunshine. You've been holding back on me!” 

Normally you didn't, normally you were too embarrassed and self-conscious to dance in front of others. But if this helped you to mend some kind of bridge… 

“Once I had a love, and it was a gas,” you sang as you swayed your hips. 

“Soon turned out, had a heart of glass,” Sun continued as he joined you, shuffling his feet, his limbs moving with a flawless elegance that was so enviable.

As it turned out Sun was just as graceful off the roller rink as he was on it. He matched you move for move and even had the cheek to embellish on some of them. Clearly trying to impress you, and probably also show off a little. Halfway through the song, Sun caught one of your hands and spun you around before pulling you into a dance of his own. With one hand holding yours and the other on your hip, he rocked and swayed your bodies together in time with the music. Your heart surged in your chest a mix of fear and something else. Excitement? Giddy? You decided not to look at it too closely and just enjoy the music and the rhythm that your bodies were making. 

The two of you spun and danced around the small space and you felt a little bit more in control without the skates to put you off balance. Sun did a good enough job of that to you as it was all on his own. At one point Sun had spun you around so that you were face away from him, and you were acutely aware of his hips gently grinding against yours as your back pressed against his chest. It was only for a moment, maybe two, but it caused you to fluster enough that you nearly had a misstep as Sun spun you back around to face him, his smile perfectly bright and innocent.

Despite your nerves, you felt yourself actually having fun. “Lost inside, adorable illusion and I cannot hide,” you sing softly. 

Sun continued the next lyric. “I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside.” You heard his voice quiver a little at those last few words, his voice becoming almost pleading.  

He pulled you a little closer in the dancing and once again you felt your heart being clenched in your chest. A thought occurred to you just then. (You’d been having a lot of those lately.) What if Moon wasn't the only victim here? You saw how Sun acted around Afton, how whenever the owner came by Sun distanced himself from you. Maybe… maybe Sun acted the way he did because he had to. 

Was that stupid of you to think? Was that naive of you to wish that that was the case? At any rate, you couldn't allow yourself to fully believe it as much as you wanted to. There was too much doubt, too many holes in this gruesome picture that you found yourself a part of unwittingly. But in your heart of hearts you wanted to hold on to that hope that the Sun that you knew, the friend who had always been there to brighten your day and bring a smile to your face, you wanted to believe that that was the real Sun. 

The two of you finished out the song, Sun slowing down the dance as the outro played until he was just gently swaying you with him. Holding you close so that your heart was practically hammering against his chest plate. 

“I missed this,” he murmured against your hair. “I missed us.” 

“Me too,” you said, allowing yourself to be honest. 

Sun began humming, but not to the tune that was playing. It was a different song entirely. A much older one. “You Are My Sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray~. You'll never know dear how much I…” His whole body shuddered, his sun rays twitching and his words seemed to hitch. 

You stared up at him, your mouth agape. “S-Sun?” It was a question, and you still weren't sure you wanted to know the answer. 

Sun slowed the both of you to a halt, staring down at you with those pale eyes that seemed so… vulnerable at the moment. His hands reached up to cradle your face and your cheeks were hot against his cool silicone and metal digits. 

“I know you're still… uncertain. But unlike you, there is no doubt in my mind about how I feel.” 

He leaned down and in a panic, you closed your eyes too scared to back away or to move forward. But instead of a touch on your lips, you felt his smile press against your forehead in a sweet and affectionate gesture. 

“Not to worry, sunshine,” he said softly. “If… when that happens, it will be because you wanted it.” 

Your heart swelled and you almost wanted to cry. So many emotions and thoughts and feelings were swirling around in your head, distorting your reality and making you dizzy. Were you a terrible person for leading him on like this? Were you an even worse person for still loving him as much as you did? You opened your eyes to look at him but before you could say or think to say anything, you heard a distant banging on a door breaking the mood. 

Sun glanced over to the front doors, an unamused laugh emitting from him. “Looks like we have some eager beavers this morning. It's still ten minutes til opening.” 

Sun parted from you and you had to fight the urge to reach out and grab his windbreaker to stop him. He slipped his roller skates back on and flashed you his trademark grin. “I'll take care of things, sunshine. Why don't you go grab yourself a cup of coffee real quick? I made you a fresh pot.” 

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a smile. And for the first time in a while, it didn't feel forced. 

“No, thank you, sunshine.” He lingered in the doorway, gripping the door frame tightly. “I really needed this. More than I think you'll ever know.” 

With that, he skated off to help the customers, all while singing the song that was playing “The tide is high but I'm holding on, I'm gonna be your number one~.”

You collapsed down into one of the swivel chairs, needing to catch your breath from the whirlwind of the last several minutes. For just a short while things had felt normal again. It felt like you had your friend and crush back. The hope in your heart, once a little seedling, was starting to grow, and you were wondering if it was too late to root it out. You just prayed that Sun would keep his promise. Because the hurt at his betrayal would kill you long before a bullet from his gun.

#fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #sun x y/n #sun x reader #cw suggestive #love death and rollerskates #here's hoping I didn't totally butcher Sun's character #this story man #i'm emotionally compromised over these two broken bots #but i felt like this song REALLY suited the situation damn near perfectly #wrote this because after all the hurt I needed some self comfort #feel like i'm setting myself up for heartache with Sun but I will hold onto hope #justfangirlwritings

[passcode58]

...

Not Requested |

Fluff |

High School Gojo x reader |

Warnings |None

You'd woken up to see the sun went down. After the day of festivities you wanted some silence, and bask in the ambiance. As a sorcerer, this was a rare opportunity to enjoy the good in life so you wasted no time, throwing on your beach hells and a coverup over your purple bikini. As exited the room and gaze at the moonlit beach, you spot Gojo Satoru sitting alone on a couch looking off into the distance, his striking figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Under the dim light he looks so heavenly, all by himself and uncharacteristically silent, but otherworldly all the same. As you draw nearer, you can't help but be captivated by this heavenly essence and the arrow cupid shot at you hurts— he was simply too good for this world, especially his mesmerising eyes despite the burden it brought upon him. Your heart flutters with anticipation as you approach him slowly, wanting to make your presence known without startling him.

"Hey there, handsome," you call out playfully, your voice carrying on the gentle ocean breeze.

Gojo turns to look at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but it quickly transforms into a charming smile. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite tease," he quips, his tone laced with amusement. You chuckle and stop in front of him, within arms reach and lean down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "What are you doing here all by yourself, precious?" you ask, genuinely curious.

"I'm just enjoying the view," he replies, his eyes gazing out at the vast sea and the shimmering moonlit waves. You know its more than that, though, with the way he taps his finger along the back of your thigh, he squeezes gently before taking a palm and pressing it to his lips, your heart melts. It doesn't take much for him to continue naturally. You were his comfort, you were his home."For once, I feel like I have a family. The people at Jujutsu High and Riko, they mean a lot to me…you know? You guys…are the first people to treat me like I'm more than six eyes, that I'm more than just Gojo." He's distant, just a bit. His eyes land on your form, and your breath is taken away, for the millionth time. Your heart swells with affection for him, admiring the vulnerable side he rarely shows— as in rarely. "You do have a family," you say tenderly, reaching out to lightly touch his hand. "And I'm part of it too, you know."

Gojo gives you a playful smirk. "Oh, really? Since when did you become such a sap?"

You laugh, not missing a beat. "Since I met you, Gojo. You bring out the best in me." He laughs, spreading his legs as an inspiration for you to sit, and he holds your leg, lightly passing his palm along it. It's then you realise his infinity is off, and you keep that in mind.The two of you engage in light banter and teasing as the night goes on. There's an undeniable romantic tension between you, and you can feel the air shift…it's dark, the moon is out and the ocean breeze caresses your hair. You're still in your bikini— and he tugs on the sting of the bottom piece. It's such an innocent act, his attention is on you completely and you know that. You enjoy flustering him by brushing your fingers against his cheek, kissing his nose or playfully ruffling his hair, revelling in the way he stammers for words, something that rarely happens to the ever-confident Gojo Satoru. 

But— even amidst all the teasing, you never hesitate to lend him a helping hand when he needs it— not that he does— whether it's in a battle against curses or simply providing a listening ear when he's troubled. Your flirty and hot persona never overshadows the genuine care and concern you have for him. He's your best friend, after all and you were more obsessed with him that he could ever know.

As the night deepens, you find yourselves sitting closer together, your knees almost touching. You gaze deeply into his pretty eyes, your heart pounding loudly in your chest— you just have to say something you can't do this. You can't hide this anymore. "You know, my gem," you say softly, "you have the most captivating eyes I've ever seen. They're like galaxies, filled with endless wonders. I could never get tired of them."

Gojo seems taken aback by your straightforward compliment, but he can't help but be enchanted by your sincerity. "And you have a way with words," he replies, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "You always leave me speechless."

Smiling, you lean in closer until your faces are mere inches apart. "I've got a question for you," you whisper, your breath mingling with his.

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Ask away." But you didn't know what to say, your mind blanked out and you didn't know what to say. He knows though, he knows, so he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender and passionate kiss. It's so weird because you never imagined that Gojo Satoru would accept your feelings. You never imagined that this man, this god before you would fall for you. He lets out a breathy whimper, and the moment it reaches your ears you could feel yourself grow weak and you collapse into his arms, hands buried in his hair as he grabs your waist. The moment is everything you fantasised about and more. In your dreams he was more dominating but here he's soft and tender. Your heart soars as you realize that your feelings are truly reciprocated, and you revel in the newfound joy that fills both your hearts. You have always admired Gojo Satoru, but now you have something even more special – a deep and passionate connection that goes beyond friendship. When you finally pull away it's silent. "Fuck— I just— this is…God you're so pretty."

"And you're so handsome."

"Oh baby I know, but you? You are just out of this world." He makes you smile, and he leans in to kiss your cheek, then your chin, along your jaw, your ear—

"(Y/n), I want to be your one and only."

"You already are."

…

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