#at this point it’s not enough to touch grass you need to start growing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neuvistar · 1 year

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JUST FOR TONIGHT.

— featuring ┊ dan heng x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊SPOILERS FOR HONKAI STAR RAIL. (?) dan heng’s dragon form bruh, hear me out on this one, oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, you grab dan heng’s horns as he eats u out like a mad man, um um um pussydrunk!dan heng me thinks, oh my days dan heng’s dragon form omyomymomygodsh, use of nicknames, overall suggestive content || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n. bro god has not been on my side lately i’m not getting anything done I’m so sorry i have a life out of tumblr n sometimes i just poof, so i’m sorry but anyways i reached lvl 40 on hsr i need to touch grass me thinks also this is kidna short but i have an excuse i stopped n kept writing n stopped n kept writing n then rushed it n got lazy wooohoooo (oops)

✦ 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

“y—you want me to what?”

honestly, you should feel guilty for asking dan heng something so absurd, but it was worth it. i mean, how can he decline when he’s faced with a smiley you, all pretty and dolled up, eager for him to please you, and most importantly eager for him to absolutely ruin you. he was kneeling infront of you, those sweet pretty eyes of his gazing straight into yours, blazing with hunger. he leans forward as he slowly began to plant small yet gentle kisses on your thigh, the shy yet lustful look remains on his face. it’s clear that he's enjoying this.. far too much.

“..are you sure you want this?” he mutters in a soft, raspy voice as he stares at her exposed form, his dark eyes are practically burning with the desire he feels towards her as he grew impatient, wanting to taste you right here and now.

you nodded, reaching down to caress his soft dark locks as he melted in your touch, as red spread across his cheeks. “relax, of course i want this, i’m all yours anyway. why do you think i asked you in the first place?”

“i just don’t want to be rough with you. i don’t want to go too far or anything.”

you pause for a moment, the desire in your eyes growing as you smirk at him, slightly tugging on his locks as you gazed down at him lovingly, “what if i want you to be rough with me?” his dark eyes burn brighter, the fires of lust and hunger engulfing the man's soul as he sees how much you want him, craving him, how much you need him, god.. it only drives him crazy.

“fuck.. you’re getting me all riled up, angel.” dan heng bit his lip as you feel his fingers hook into the hem of your panties, slowly dragging them down before suddenly ripping them apart with his bare hands, letting you feel the cold air on your soaking cunt. “hope you can take everything i give you, baby. you’re a strong girl, aren’t you? you should be able to.”

he spread your legs as he held them down, feeling the wetness of his tongue on your slit. he was just getting started, yet sinful sounds came out of your mouth already. you could feel the softness of dan heng’s skin as it rubs against your own, shoving his tongue inside your hole. not a even a few minutes in and he was already slurping up your juices like it was his last meal. you were absolutely stunning in his point of view, he couldn’t get enough of how hot you looked, how hot you looked with the hem of your shirt in your mouth as an attempt to put a stop to the lead sounds you let out, cock throbbing in his pants at the sight. dan heng’s hands slide between your thighs pushing your legs wider apart, feeling your body shiver as his palms brush over your warm skin, a whimper of pleasure slipping past your lips. he was lapping at your juices like it was no tomorrow, rubbing his thumb on your bud at a harsh pace as he works wonders on your cunt, eating you out like some mad man, he wasn’t ashamed one bit. he wanted to ruin you, he wanted you to remember how good his tongue felt, how skilled he really is.

“danheng.. shit..”you reach down, running your fingers through his hair as your hands slowly run up towards his horns, back arching at how well he was eating you out as his tongue swirled around your bud, sucking and nibbling on it. you whined as you held onto his horns for support, feeling him grunt against you as low vibrations rumbled through your skin. he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t hold himself back. he interlocked his arms with your thighs, digging his face into your pussy even more, desperate and hungry for more.

“s—shit.. sweetheart. ‘keep doin’ that.”

he slid two fingers inside your cunt, a warm thickness that was almost enough to make you cum on the spot, overwhelming you with pleasure. he savoured your taste, he wanted more of it. he wanted more of you and your taste as he circled his tongue around your clit, fingers pumping in and out as they slid in and out of you, the lewd sounds of squelching filling the whole room as he crooks them perfectly, plunging them in your deepest areas as wetness began to coat around his fingers, indicating that your orgasm was close.

“d—danheng..”you tightened your grip around his horns, making him moan against your folds as you threw your head back. the feeling of your fingers shaking around his horns drove him to the edge, as if it made something within him snap in a millisecond.. he just love how soft your hands felt around his horns, groaning at the way his cock throbbed when you did so, palming himself gently through his pants. he looked up at you as he saw the way your head was thrown back, the way your legs spread even more as if it was asking him to eat you out even more, cheeks flushed and eyes rolling back to the back of your head, you couldn’t take it anymore. “dan heng.. c-can’t anymore— ‘m gonna cum, please!”

you tried pushing him off of you, which only lead him to tighten his grip around your thighs, pressing himself closer against your cunt as the flicking of his tongue never stopped one bit, he wanted more, way more, more than he was given. he wanted so much more of you, eating you out once wasn’t enough, he wanted to savour in your taste, he just couldn’t.. couldn’t get enough of you. dan heng wasn’t usually this hungry for you, but tonight was a whole different story.

“‘m gonna cum! gonna cum..!” you buck your hips against him, it’s happening once again, that feeling in your stomach. your aching pussy spasmed around his tongue, tightening around him so well so he could savour every single ridge of your insides gazing up at you as you cried out, reaching your orgasm as you squirted all over his face, panting heavily as the blush on your face reddened completely. dan heng pulled away from you, sliding his fingers out of you as well before licking his lips, wiping his cheek with a slight smirk. both of your thighs shook viciously, wetting the bedsheets underneath making a mess.

“look at the mess you made, baby.” he chuckled before leaning down once more, bringing his tongue down to lick your dripping slit once more. “it would be a such shame if you made even more of a mess, wouldn’t it?”

oh yeah, he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more alright.

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #dan heng smut #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr dan heng #hsr smut #dan heng <33 #dan heng in his dragon form bruh holy shit #pussy drink dan heng?? pussy drink dan heng!!!

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seonghwaddict · 3 months

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 010 ] the head and the heart.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au.

chapter warnings. heavy angst, blood drinking, student/teacher relationship (not pedophilia), gore, blood, murder, manipulation, very intense heartbreak, knives, strangulation, mention of metaphorical suicide. word count. 3.6k rating. mature for violence.

　　　　　　　　chapter ix // chapter v // chapter xi

choi san had always been a loving soul.

growing up in a loving and caring family, he had been taught how to give and receive affection well. always caring for his friends and family, willing to do anything to make them happy. he was quick to forgive and forget, quick to assume the best of everyone’s intentions. to put it quite plainly, for many years of his life, he only saw the best in people.

but being so loving had its consequences.

he fell in love too quickly.

at the age of 18, he was sat in his literature class in high school. the teacher hadn’t showed up yet, the students scattered around the class and chatting idly. his seat was by the window, on the third row. the weather was nice, sunny with a cool breeze. he remembered this day vividly.

he remembered this day so vividly because it was the day he met jang sooyeon.

though, at first he knew her as ms jang for she walked in with the principle, introducing herself as their new teacher. absently, he noted she was very pretty, and awfully young to be a teacher. as she walked between the desks to hand out worksheets, his gaze was drawn to a dainty, silver anklet.

it all started slowly; lingering looks and touches that rested on his shoulder for a beat too long. ms jang somehow always found him when he was alone. sometimes she’d offer a book recommendation in the library, other times she’d ask him to stay behind after class for a little chat. one day he walked in with a black notebook, poems and prose scribbled inside. noticing the little book, she asked to take a look inside. but he refused; looking at his writings felt like looking into the deepest corners of his mind, little scraps of his soul etched on the paper with his crappy ball-point pen.

but, somehow, at some point, she ended up inside it, nose practically pressed to the ink as she made sense of the inner workings of his brain. though the compliments were nice, he didn’t think too much of them. but looking back, he should have known better.

over time, her little actions and words had his heart swelling with an all-too-familiar feeling. he found himself seeking her out and soon enough, they met up outside of class, outside of school. first under the excuse of san needing tutoring (a pathetic excuse as his writings exceeded the skills of many), but soon he found himself spending time with her outside of school just because he wanted to. making excuses in the first place was stupid, everyone around them knew there was something going on.

he let her in, he cared for her and let her care for him, showing her parts of himself no one else had seen before. for that year, all his thoughts were occupied by her. his love for her grew incessantly, in ways one could almost call obsessive. he wrote about her in his notebook, learned how to bake so he could make her her favourite treats. he showed her his sanctuary, a little clearing tucked away in a forest of his hometown.

he remembered laying on the grass beside her, staring up at the clouds swirling high above. they talked but he couldn’t remember about what. when you were with a loved one the subject of conversations mattered little compared to being in their presence. he remembered her sitting up, twisting herself to look down at him with a soft smile.

looking back at that moment, he realised her smiles never quite reached her eyes.

still, he was so infatuated with her that he couldn’t see beyond rose tinted glasses.

time seemed to slow and he felt their surrounding fade away as he looked into her eyes, realising she was slowly leaning closer. hands clenching with anticipation, he hitched himself up on his elbows. but before he could kiss her a small reflection glinted in the sunlight and his eyes were drawn down to her ankle. the silver anklet glittering in the light, taunting him.

he knew it was a bad idea. he knew he shouldn’t have said anything. but he still looked up at her and quietly asked her to take off the anklet. when she asked why, that should’ve prompted him to come up with some stupid excuse.

but he loved her. he loved her so much that his heart betrayed his safety, previously unspoken secrets tumbling from his lips as he told her about his true identity. without hesitation, he admitted what he was. a bloodsucking vampire.

at first she didn’t believe him or, more accurately, she made him think she didn’t believe him. but his face stayed serious as his eyes begged to be believed, so she tossed the anklet in a seemingly random direction. and they kissed and they kissed and they loved and they held each other until the sun bade them farewell and plunged bellowed the horizon. when they got up to part ways, he missed the sinister grin on her face as she retrieved her anklet.

and she knew she caught him in her trap.

jang sooyeon was many things. calculative, determined, possibly a bit sadistic. but a fool was not one of them. from the moment she had set eyes on choi san, she knew she found what she was looking for in that school. every progression, every action, in their relationship had been carefully planned out to get her to where she was now—her back to his chest as he leaned against a tree stump in their little hideout.

she rested her head against the left side of his chest, just over his heart, staring ahead at the blades of grass and fallen leaves that danced in the autumn wind. a silence settled over them before she whispered a questions.

“sannie… would you do anything for me?”

“yes, of course. why do you ask?”

“but how far are you willing to go?”

he should’ve listened to his brain, the warning signals blaring at her words. but his heart—oh, his naïve, foolish, utterly hypnotised heart—begged and screamed for him to draw her closer.

“i’d do anything for you.”

“if someone bothered me, would you… would you kill them for me?”

he paused at that, glancing down at her. an almost hesitant “yes, anything for you, my love,” falling from his pursed lips.

all things considered, he should’ve seen it all coming. everything after that conversation felt like a blur up until his next memory. it was the first time he killed someone.

she had told him this man had been bothering her, insisting to spend a night with him despite her saying she was already seeing someone. though he was slightly irked by the smile that threatened to force itself onto her features as he agreed to take care of the man, he was more focused on the fact that another man dared to even look at her with such little respect.

so, after some digging, he found himself trailing behind the same man on a dark street. hood up, eyes fixated on him, making sure not to alert him. san’s eyes briefly moved to the entrance of an upcoming alley, deciding that would be the perfect opportunity.

ten minutes later, he walked out the other side of the alley. the corpse of the man left leaning against one of the cold walls, smothered to death.

had there been any reason that didn’t involve her, he may have felt some remorse. but he was convinced what he was doing was right, keeping her safe from this potentially dangerous man.

and then she let him drink her blood.

when she offered it, he was surprised and declined, telling her that he never expected anything in return for what he had done. but she insisted, pulling up her sleeve and baring her wrist. what more suitable way to pay a vampire than in blood?

when the first drop of her blood entered his mouth, he knew he wouldn’t be able to enjoy bagged blood ever again.

after that it became a cycle. he’d get rid of someone for her and then he’d go back to her apartment and she’d let him suck a few drops of blood from her. his once pure heart was slowly stained by something darker, despite how justified he was made to believe his actions were. he lost count of how many people he went after, but he knew it was slowly driving him to insanity. and even though she convinced him he was in the right for killing those people, his heart kept him awake most nights with those dark memories.

and choi san always listened to his heart.

he doesn’t remember when he brought his concerns up to sooyeon, but he remembers they were somewhere dark. it may have been during the period where he refused to go home. he had brought her to his house for dinner and as soon as she left, his parents wouldn’t stop giving him warnings and telling them that they sensed something dark in her. this led to an argument, ending with him slamming the front door and avoiding them for a month to move in with the love of his life.

he should’ve listened to them.

the tv illuminated the the room as he sat on the couch. he heard her footsteps before she emerged from the narrow hallway of the one bedroom apartment. a towel was wrapped around her hair and her fresh clothes clung to her body in areas that hadn’t been dried properly. he looked at her, trying not to get distracted by the way she sat beside him and pressed herself into his hold. he inched away so he could see her better, the changing light of the television illuminating her wonderful features.

“listen, i… i wanna ask you something…”

“is there something wrong, sannie?”

he paused for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“don’t you think all the killing is unnecessary? i mean, you know i love you… i don’t want to have to do all this just to prove that.”

“oh, but, sannie… these are people that deserve it, they’ve hurt me. would you really want someone to hurt me and get away with it?”

“no! no, of course not. that’s not what i meant. it’s just- it’s too much for me. we love each other, don’t we? we shouldn’t worry about what anyone else does. people bother me, too, but i don’t ask you to kill them.”

“you think that? you think we love each other?”

“well, yes…”

a sharp feeling of dread tugged at his intestine.

“i don’t love you, san. you’re a monster. how could i ever love someone like you?”

she said more, but he didn’t hear any of it. he could feel every fibre of his soul being torn apart; could feel his ribcage being ripped open to reveal that naïve, foolish and utterly hypnotised heart of his. a sharp pain in his chest had him tearing up as if she’d dug a knife into his heart and twisted it in his chest. but he knew she was right. he was a monster and it was a fitting punishment for such a monster.

to want someone so much—to have them in your grasp—and knowing they will never love you the way you love them.

the days after that melted together into a dull pile of memories. he returned home but didn’t tell anyone what had happened, locking himself in his bedroom and skipping meals. he sat on his bed and cried and cried and cried and cried until he could no longer feel anything. his heart had nearly gone numb and he came to the realisation that he would’ve much preferred it if she wrapped a silver chain around his neck and strangled the life out of him.

one time he found himself staring into the mirror, terrified at the person she had turned him into. every time he looked at himself, the same words repeated in his head. monster, monster, monster, you fucking murderer. and he knew it was true. he stared at his reflection, wondering if he had changed enough to turn into a new person, enough for it to be considered some kind of suicide of his persona.

he hated himself. he should’ve listened to everyone, he should’ve listened to his brain. not his no-good, useless heart. if it could even be called that anymore.

when the urge to drink blood lured him out of his bedroom, he found himself in the kitchen opening a bag of a-positive. the familiar liquid slipped down his throat and his hunger was satiated, but not for long.

that night they found out about the blood intolerance, sat in a vampiric doctor’s office after he collapsed and was rushed to the clinic. he thought he was dying, barely hanging onto conscience as his father picked up his limp body from the kitchen floor and placed him in the car. he woke up on one of those hospital beds, his parents, older sister, and his doctor standing around him. the doctor explained that if vampires only drank one blood type for many months, in rare cases it could lead to the body being unable to process all the other types.

something clicked inside his mind. she had killed him. killed his heart, killed his body, killed his soul. she was a murderer, too. he was merely just a shell of who he used to be. the scraps left of his heart and soul screamed for revenge. he had already killed so many people, this was just one more. maybe when she was finally gone, he’d be able to live life normally.

he thought it was odd, really. just a week before he loved her more than anything in the universe, and then he was creeping through her hallways with a knife clutched in his hand. a violent end to his devotion.

the floorboards of the hallway creaked as he crept his way to her bedroom. with a random kitchen knife gripped so tightly in his hands his knuckles turned white, his breathing went shallow. he revised his plan over and over and over again, replaying it in his head like a broken record. nothing could go wrong in the next few minutes, he couldn’t afford any mistake no matter how small. a droplet of sweat melted its way down his forehead and got caught on his brow, he wiped it away with the back of his hand and finally stopped in front of the door, open just a crack.

suddenly, he felt as if his throat closed up; one of the telltale signs of his body’s reluctance to commit this heinous crime. he should be used to it by now, but somehow it felt different when it was the woman he imagined a future with. he swallowed repeatedly, praying the dry tightness of his throat would be eased by his saliva. it took him several more minutes to muster up the courage and wrap his hand around the metal doorknob, pushing the door in as slowly as he possibly could and wincing quietly when the hinges whined

she seemed to be fast asleep, light snores resounding through the spacious bedroom. much like how he revised his plan repeatedly in his head, so did his head telling him to stop. he let his disparity take over as he silently shut the door behind him and walked to the bed like a predator stalking his prey. as his gaze settled on her, a fleeting sense of remorse could’ve swept through him had he been able to see her face, peaceful in her slumber. but, alas, there was nothing to be seen except a silhouette dimly lit by the moonlight beyond the windows.

she didn’t make as single sound as the first stab went straight to the base of her neck, blood pooling around the knife as he sliced through the throat. not a single sound gave away the fact that she was now dead.

he pulled out the knife, the blade suddenly feeling so much heavier in his hold as crimson liquid dripped from the metal and stained anything it landed on. the faint smell of iron wafted into his nose and shot straight to his brain, unleashing some kind of primal urge to continue stabbing at the body despite knowing she was dead. he sunk the knife into any part he could reach—her arms, chest, stomach, shoulders.

once his mind cleared and his rationality returned to him, all he could see was dark splatters surrounding him, staining the bed, her body and his own hands. bile rose to his throat but he swallowed down the bitter taste quickly, stumbling back and dropping the dagger, the ringing of the metal crashing against the wooden floor resonating through his ears. tears pricked at his eyes as he gasped for air. the squelching of the blade as he sank it into her flesh would forever haunt him, echoing through the corridors of his scarred mind.

as he looked away from his bloodstained hands and at her body, he found her head slumped in his direction, lifeless eyes lit by the moon staring right at him. san whipped his body around; he couldn’t stand looking at her any longer. the regret crashed over him like a wave, leaving an icy trail of what-ifs. what if she had been awake? would he have still gone through with it? and yet, as he thought through all the possibilities, he couldn’t help but feel a slight weight lifted off his shoulder.

he made quick work of getting rude of the corpse. wrapping a sheet around her and carrying her out of the building. it was just past midnight, not a chance anyone would be awake. he ducked into an alley and rolled her out of the sheet, placing her in the shadows where she wouldn’t be found. even if she did, it would just look like some angry drunk had done it. those cases were often dismissed by the police. he returned to her apartment and changed the bedsheets.

when the news of her death got out, his family moved away so he could finish the last two months of high school away from the pitiful and prying eyes of his classmates. he hated the way they looked at him when he walked in the halls. he wanted to scream at them.

stop looking at me like that!

like i’m a fucking tragedy.

stop it.

stop fucking looking at me.

after all of those events. he was sure life would never return to his numb limbs. until he met jung wooyoung and kang yeosang in his first year of university. he had pushed them away at first, but upon finding out they had something in common, he accepted their friendship.

with their friendship came five others; kim hongjoong, park seonghwa, jeong yunho, song mingi, choi jongho. they proved him wrong, he could feel alive again. at least with them. it was a rather quick bond, considering themselves a little clan. but as much as he adored them, he knew he would never love some like he had loved sooyeon ever again.

until he was proven wrong yet again. from the moment he met you, he came to the conclusion that there was a reason that old saying—never say never—came to be. don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t love at first sight. but he felt something, a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in years.

he wanted you for his own safekeeping. he wanted your hair to slip through his fingers. he wanted that voice of yours to whisper in his ear, under the bluish moon. he wanted you to rip out his heart and carry it with you in a little box under lock and key.

and as he looked at you now, sitting on the couch with wooyoung and yunho as you laughed and squealed as you played some game with them on the tv, he wondered. he wondered if you’d hold his tainted fingers and kiss his lips. he wondered if you’d love him and his scars and his sickening skin. if you’d love his weak heart and guilty soul. would you love a monster?

when you left, he felt his insides light on fire as you pressed a fluttering kiss to his cheek when you passed him in the kitchen, when no one was looking. since that night in your bedroom, he knew he was doomed.

seonghwa joined him in the kitchen to wash the dishes. san but his bottom lip, trying to desperately swallow down a question that lingered on his mind for weeks.

“you want to say something,” seonghwa spoke over his shoulder, a smile evident in his voice, “say it, sannie.”

“do you…” he sighed and leaned against the counter. “will we ever tell her?”

god, he wanted to know how you’d react. would you embrace them and tell them it’s okay? he wanted to be loved by you so badly his hands trembled.

the question made seonghwa pause, glancing at him and turning off the sink. he took his time drying his hands, eyes turned to the ground. he sighed, walking over to san and placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“she’s special, and i think she’ll come to know about us. but we can’t risk rushing anything. all in due time, san, all in due time.”

with one more squeeze, he dropped his hand and left the kitchen.

[ lilo’s notes ] i apologise for what i have written, though i do hope you all enjoyed it. i also apologise for the long wait, but i really wanted to write something of high quality for my dear readers!! happy new year, please take care of yourselves well <;33

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castiwls · 3 months

Note

back again!! would you do something with sam winchester perhaps where sam does something that makes reader realize that she’s in love with him and then skips to confessing and such?? love ur work SMMM

you are in love - s.w

Pairings; Sam x fem!reader

Synopsis; One coffee changes (almost) everything

Warnings; fluff (lots)

Notes;Tysmm!! I love this idea so much i really need to write for sam more <3 Also I highly suggested listening to 'you are in love' (by taylor swift) while reading this as I kinda based it on that song:)

Masterlist

'Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight The light reflects The chain on your neck He says, "Look up" And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch But you felt enough'

The night breeze was cool against your skin as you settled into the grass beside Sam. “Here.” He passed you a takeaway cup which had been sitting beside him. You thanked him before taking a sip of the warm drink. “Is coffee at midnight a good idea?” you asked tilting your head slightly. Sam shrugged looking over to you. “Not like we were gonna sleep anyways.”

The two of you sat in relative silence, making small talk as you slowly finished your drinks. You felt a small buzz from the caffeine slowly start to warm your body. “Y/n. Look.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sam put down his drink before he pointed up to the sky. As he moved his shoulder brushed yours. You followed his finger and squinted slightly. “What am I meant to be looking at?”

Sam let out a small laugh before leaning slightly closer and moving his finger in a pattern. His finger traced lines in the sky as he spoke. “Perseus was a Greek hero who killed Medusa. After He killed Medusa he found Andromeda who was chained to a rock, her parents wanted to sacrifice her to a sea monster. He saved her and later they got married.” You listened as Sam continued to explain how the two had become constellations and what they meant.

As he spoke you found yourself more and more captivated by his story. His smile seemed to grow as he spoke listing more and more information on the myth. As you watched him speak you felt yourself slowly become more and more captivated by him. The stars reflected off his eyes making them glisten slightly.

A small shiver ran through you as a particularly cold breeze ran through the area.

“Are you cold?” The question brought you out of the almost trance-like state you had been in. You quickly looked away and cleared your throat. ‘No. No im fine.” Sam frowned before moving to take off his jacket. “Oh. Sam you don’t have to im-” He shook his head before cutting you off. “No. no, it's fine seriously.” He smiled as he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders.

His smile sent a slight flush to your cheeks. The jacket smelt like him, something which sent butterflies wild in your stomach. “That's a beautiful story.” You quietly spoke turning fully to face him. Sam smiled and you could have sworn a small blush dusted his cheeks.

After a moment he stood before offering you a hand. “It’s late, we should probably head back.” You nodded allowing him to pull you up.

You stood for a moment mulling over your thoughts. Were you in love with Sam?

It had been a few weeks since the night in the field and your feelings had only grown more. You knew you had to say something soon or you were gonna go mad. The last few weeks had been with seemingly case after case but you finally had time to yourselves.

Dean had wandered off to a bar a few hours ago leaving just you and Sam in the bunker. It was now or never. “Sam.” You called as you walked into the map room. Sam looked up from his laptop with a small smile. “Hey, what's up?” He shuts his laptop and turns his attention to you.

“I uh..I need to talk to you about something.” He nodded before gesturing to the seat beside him. Your hand shook slightly as you sat down and placed your hands on your lap. Taking a breath you tried to push your nerves down before looking up to him.

“I don’t really know how to say this” You laughed nervously, beginning to play with your hands in your lap. You knew you had to say something now or you might not get the chance for god knows how long.

Sam watched you for a moment equally confused and concerned by your behaviour. Leaning forward he took your hands into his drawing your attention back to him. He gently squeezed your hand.

Taking a deep breath you opened your mouth. “I think im in love with you, but I don't wanna make it weird if you don't feel the same way an-” Your rambling was cut off by someone pressing their lips against yours.

It took a moment for your mind to catch up and register that the person kissing you was Sam. After a moment he pulled away moving to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“Took you long enough.” Both you and Sam flew away from each other at the sound of another person’s voice. Dean leaned against the wall with a smirk he waved a hand in your direction before pushing off the wall. As he walked past he clapped his brother on the back before sending you a wink and wandering down the hallway. “Remember to use protection lovebirds.” He yelled before disappearing around the corner.

Sam shook his head as you let out a quiet laugh. “Truthfully,” He started leaning in again. His hand moved to cup your check. “I think I’ve been in love with you since we met.” He gently ran his thumb across your cheek and you felt a slight flush on your cheeks.

His words left you feeling slightly giddy as he connected your lips again.

You’d never been more grateful for coffee in your life.

'You are in love True love You are in love'

#sam winchester #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x you #spn fanfic #spnfandom #jaredpadelcki #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #.mine #.spn #.sam winchester #.req

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teatreeoill · 5 months

Text

|| This Must Be the Place (Nanami Kento X Reader) ||

Reader was Nanami's classmate in Jujutsu High, surprised by his sudden return after many years away. this episode was horrible. I hope we can all collectively heal (or maybe just stop crying) at some point. 1.2 K

It's always easier to start something new than to return to the old. And Nanami Kento believed that too - at least he used to, until the new became a dreadful routine, and the old had crept back into his mind - creating a path back to the Jujutsu world.

He sighs. He does so often these days. It echoes through the halls he remembered a younger version of himself walking around in. It all looks the same, smells the same. These old worlds hardly change.

Almost as an answer to his sigh, the door he was walking towards swings open. "Nanami!" Gojo's voice cuts through the silence in the same way his loud voice always did, grabbing all attention to itself, "Hardly cut out for office work, are we?"

Nanami hadn't expected a long conversation, but hardly a few minutes have passed before Gojo's hand slapped harshly on his back, "There's not much to say, I guess, is there?" The white haired man's grin is as persistent as always, "You don't have to come back straight away, think about it again, if you need to." "I don't need to," Nanami says, fixing the collar of his button-up shirt. He had spent enough time thinking. He breathed out, lips curling up just enough for Gojo to notice. "Stay a while longer today, yeah? Shoko would love to see you, I think (Y/N) would too." And there it was, your name. Nanami had dreaded that moment since the first thought of coming back to the Jujutsu world had crossed his mind. -

Seven years ago.

White tiled rooms, fluorescent lights and the smell of disinfectant had always sent chills down your spine since the day you looked at Haibara for the last time. If only we had the privilege of being as sad as the first time we thought we were sad, you thought.

In the Jujutsu world, there was no hand holding. Sometimes you'd get understanding, sympathizing glances - and on the worst occasions soft I'm sorry's would escape someone's lips. But that day it was hardly enough. You tugged on Nanami's sleeve to drag him out of the room where he'd been sitting since the moment of the incident. In the state he was in, he couldn't protest. A few minutes later he found himself sitting on the training field with his legs stretched out before him, one of his hands grabbing onto strands of grass, mindlessly pulling them out one by one. "You blame yourself, don't you?" You hadn't meant to ask him, but the words had escaped your lips before you could think it through. He didn't answer. You hadn't touched before, but resting your head softly on his shoulder felt almost natural. You thought you should be the one embracing him, telling him sweet, encouraging words, but instead you found yourself comforted by him. With his arm around you and his fingers tracing soft patterns along your forearm, he sat and listened. You stammered along about all the unfairness, sadness and shame, while he uttered the same phrase over and over again.

"I know."

Four years ago.

You were aware of Nanami's intentions to leave after graduation for quite some time, and as a result prevented yourself from growing closer to your only remaining classmate. Nevertheless, for the remains of your time as a student, you tried your best. Get stronger, get better, don't be a burden. Every successful mission had fuelled the next.

Until one mission went wrong. It was a false assessment - the curse was far too strong for you to handle. And even when another sorcerer was sent to aid you, you still felt you barely left the place with your life.

Laying in the infirmary bed, waiting for Shoko, you heard hurried footsteps from the hall. "Are you alright?" Were Nanami's first words when he burst into the room, kneeling by the bedside. He grabbed your hand, it sent shivers down your spine, his fingers still carrying the same warmth and comfort you felt last time you touched on the training field. You only nodded in response. He released your hand to pull up a chair, easing into the relief he felt.

The silence lasted a while before he suddenly spoke. "This year's over soon," He took a moment to breathe before continuing, "I'm leaving."

He had mentioned it before, and you knew nothing you could say would change that, you stayed silent. "Come with me." You lifted your aching body to the sound of these words. In your heart, a sudden urge to say yes. Your mind rushed through its newfound feelings - drop everything, find another life, run away with him.

"I can never stop being aware of the pain curses cause, Nanami. I can't just start ignoring it, it doesn't work that way." You were always too proud.

"Yes, I thought as much." "I'm sorry." You mouth.

The conversation cuts short as Shoko enters the room.

The shock was only natural when your brain had finally registered Nanami Kento's presence in your vicinity. This man, again, in a Jujutsu High building, after he swore he couldn't bear to see it anymore. It's a relief to Nanami when you smile. He thought it's better to come see you first, before the rumors of his return will reach you. "I heard about it from Gojo," You admit, "But I didn't think you'd actually do it." For the first time for Nanami, the old familiarity doesn't feel like tension, but more like a sweet caress.

You strolled out of the building together, the nostalgia somehow acting as a glue, justifying the intimacy you felt. Almost out of habit, you've reached the training field, taking a seat on the stairs leading down to it. The both of you thinking of the same night you've spent there all those years ago. "I still think about him, you know." You find the courage to confess to him, "I find myself thinking the silliest things - what he'd think about some current events, or what comment he'd make about a bad haircut I got." You pause for a moment, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble like that."

Nanami's gaze is focused on the tree line, watching the shade they cast on the grass. He takes off his glasses to wipe them with a cloth. "I always think about him," he says, "I always thought that by this time he'd find the courage to tell you he likes you. That he'd somehow convince you to give him a chance, and like most, you'd find yourself giving in to his optimism."

The memories are painful but pleasant, "I don't think he'd have much of a shot there," You laugh, "I sort of liked someone else."

"Sorry, are you together now?" Nanami doesn't mean to let out a quiet, dissappointed chuckle.

You know what he means, but you can't resist but letting your gaze linger on his face for a little too long, before saying; "Yeah, we're together now."

Perhaps in all jobs, there's nothing much to love. We justify it all with the amounts of money we get, finding small things to rely on while we wait for our vacations. Nanami didn't vacation much, but when you first mustered the courage to press a small kiss on his lips, he thought it just as great as any trip. When his tongue found its way inside your mouth, he thought it better than the feeling of ocean water at his feet. When you first fell asleep in his arms, he swore no country's sunlight will ever be able to radiate such a pleasant warmth.

#jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento #nanami kento X reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you

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mildly-inconvenienced-bat · 12 days

Text

Sometimes I think about my sexuality and the things that makes me uncomfortable, especially being raised catholic

I'm a cis, demisexual, woman.

Going to a bar and hooking up with a stranger isn't something I'd do. But I'm a cis woman raised in a catholic home, so I'm following God's will.

Up until I was 16, I was adamant I'd only have sex after I got married, "losing my virginity" with someone i didn't trust enough to marry didn't make sense to me. But again, I'm a cis woman raised in a catholic home, I'm simply following God's will.

As my faith wavered, I tried to experiment a little bit. Maybe all of this came from my religious upbringing? I barely had flings (like, 2?) during high school, and when I started dating, it took me almost a year to decide to have sex for the first time. It wasn't bad, but having him cheat on me and break up 2 weeks later didn't help. I felt like I should try again, no string attached this time.

I got on tinder and started talking to strangers. Some were very attractive, but tried to get into sexting way to fast and that irked me out. Others took things slowly so we could get to know each other before stepping up to sexting, and it was fun, but as soon as they wanted to meet up for the real thing, I got completely turned off. Yeah, we had fun, but I don't know you enough for that, I don't feel attracted enough.

My best friend set me up with another friend of hers that she thought would suit me, and we did have a lot in common, but when we met at a party and he tried to get us more privacy so we could make out, I swear I didn't feel anything. He was attractive for me, we did hit it off pretty fast, but not enought for that.

It took me a little bit more of trial and error to come to the conclusion I wasn't as allo as other people I knew, and an ace friend to come into my life and help me realize that yeah, I do like the idea of sex, and I do enjoy it on specific circumstances, but no, I'm not easily interested in it. Yes, I do experience sexual attraction, but only for people I trust enough (and parasocial relationships, where I get the false sense of knowing someone).

Church made me feel like I was exactly how God intended me to be, and I know I'm privileged enought to grow up identifying as something "acceptable". But leaving church and finding out I was seen as "prude" for being the way I was, made me feel like there was something I was missing out. Like the only reason I was like this was because I was conditioned to be this way. To the point of having friends try to fix me, because all I needed was to "loosen up"

My point is that sexuality feels like a lose-lose situation; if you have little to non interest, you're "broken", if you have circumstantial interest you're either a prude or a stuck up bitch; if you have higher interest, you still have the chance of being called a slut/fuckboy and seen as unsuitable in the long-term.

Why do we care so much about other people's privacy anyways? What does it change in my life knowing someone else's genitals and sexual life? Like, some people need to get a life, find a hobby, touch some grass and stop sticking their opinions where it doesn't concern them.

#ok to reblog #demisexual #sexuality #acespec #lgbtqiia+#queer community #lgbtq community #i really hope that sharing my experience doesn't go out on a tangent and offend people #again #I'm just sharing some thoughts #does it count as religious trauma if i still feel guilty for trying to dip into my sexuality?#but yeah

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cleverinsidejoke · 6 months

Text

Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

I had fun with this one. It's been fun getting this started, writing characters as best I can, and getting this show on the road! If there are any triggering parts in this, let me know and I'll add on a warning.

wc: 1957

The air in the Angel’s Share had shifted. The drunk Bard’s loud singing and boisterous laughter had dwindled to silence. Diluc looked up from the inventory book, seeing Venti sitting upright and tense, hand wavering just by the bottle of dandelion wine, head inclined at a subtle angle, as though listening to the whispers of an unseen being.

Beneath the mountains of Liyue, Azhdaha ceases his cries as the world around him silences as Teyvat’s internal conflict resolves itself. The earth begins speaking again, indecipherable words that Azhdaha is accustomed to, growing louder and louder, deafening to his sensitive ears.

Zhongli hears it too. Even in this mortal form, he is still attuned to the stories Teyvat says, has grown accustomed to ignoring the senseless chatter of the world. The silence unnerves him.

The entities of the Abyss shift in the ancient halls, quieting as something calls to them from afar. The Princess smiles to herself.

In turn, Foul Legacy claws at the edges of Childe’s mind in a poor attempt at claiming consciousness. It settles for a quiet harmony of Abyssal murmurs. It feels strangely calm for the creature. Too human. Almost religious.

Teyvat has been disquieted, in disharmony with itself. It hides it well. Celestia cannot be allowed to know.

The landing lacks the same harshness that pulled you to this strange world in the first place, instead landing you on the ground carefully, as you would a pet or a delicate heirloom. “So this is real, right?” You look over at Gene, collecting yourself. “We’re in Genshin Impact?” They shrug, looking around with caution.

“There’s the Dawn Winery.” you follow their gaze. Sure enough, there it was. You were on the heightened area near the Statue of the Seven, overlooking Springvale. From here, you could see the great city itself, windmills dimly lit by the moonlight. A crisp breeze blew in, rustling the tall grasses around you. With the quiet surroundings and the peaceful atmosphere, Mondstadt felt nothing short of home.

“I don’t care if it’s Buckingham Palace or Disneyland. I want to find someplace to sleep.” It turns out that being transported into a new world after a long day of stress wasn’t the greatest of feelings. You begin a careful descent towards the road, using Windrise as a point of reference.

“Likewise.” Gene follows, taking hold of your arm whenever your footing becomes unsteady. As Windrise grows closer, so grows your need for rest. You’re soon leaning on Gene for support. The gentle breeze fades as you approach the large tree. The Statue of the Seven looms larger than you expected, even stranger to see in real life. Gene takes the opportunity to touch it. The Statue’s light glows violet in turn. A slow transition.

“Let’s just see if we can get some place at the Goth Grand Hotel or the Church. Surely the sisters can’t say no to us. The poor, helpless outlanders.” Slumping over their shoulder melodramatically, you yawn. “It’s getting too late.” The pair of you make your way to the city, with no real plan. Timmy is absent from the bridge. A shame. You rather liked tormenting seeing the boy interact with his pigeons. But it was late, and thus, understandable that he was absent.

“Halt, strange, yet respectable travelers!” The familiar line wakes you up a bit, your head snapping up to look at the speaker. It’s only Lawrence, accompanied by Swan, guarding the gate. Of course it wouldn’t be Amber. It’s not her duty to guard the gate, after all. “What brings you to the gates of Mondstadt so late?”

“We’re only looking for a place to stay for the night, sirs.” Gene continues to shoulder your weight as they speak to the guards. They offer a disarming smile to the men. That same gentle twist of the lips that you’ve become so accustomed to. A smile that practically begs to be trusted.

“The Church or the Headquarters may have a place for you to stay. Do you know anything, Swan?” Lawrence glances at the other man, probing for an answer.

“I’m not sure. I can escort them to the Church if need be.” Your drowsiness dampens the words, your body growing heavy. Soon, your weight is heavy on Gene’s back, unsupported by your consciousness as a deep slumber overtakes you.

The Anemo Archon had become restless. The dandelion wine was left untouched on the counter, the solemn nature of the bard causing some unease in the tavern. Diluc almost preferred the boisterous and easygoing attitude.

Not that it mattered at the moment though. The tavern would be closing in a quarter of an hour. It was time to begin closing. Diluc began by approaching the other patrons, quietly asking them to leave and informing them that the tavern would close soon. Finally, it was down to Venti.

“It’s almost closing time.” The bard remained still, unresponsive. Then he turned, looking up at the bartender.

“The wind carried news, Master Diluc.” Venti’s soft smile is out of place, unmatched with his quiet tone. “Good news.” He seems to have been waiting for someone to ask.

“News?” He couldn’t deny his curiosity, especially if the Anemo Archon thought it was good.

“The Creator has returned, Diluc! The Creator! And, if the winds are accurate, then they’ve brought another with them!” Venti grinned, standing from his chair. “They should have reached Mondstadt by now. Good night, Diluc.”

The influx of information causes Diluc to stiffen. The Creator? But the holy texts had predicted them to arrive much later. Venti pranced out of the tavern, leaving the bartender alone to his thoughts in the Angel’s Share.

Venti allowed the wind to guide him, whispers fueling his excitement. Following the new Anemo footprint of the Creator, he made his way to the Church of Favonius.

You awoke to the sound of idle chatter. Sitting up, you took in the sight of the well lit interior of the Church of Favonius. Gene’s laughter was what rang out across the church, allowing you to get up and track them more easily. You grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, following the voices.

You had been sleeping on a pew in the back of the church, so it wasn’t all that difficult to walk to the front, where people were gathered and talking. As you picked apart the crowd, you could see Barbara, the sisters, Gene, and Venti himself.

“Oh, Y/N!” Gene waved you over, settling their hand on their neck as they turned their attention to the others. “This is my dearest friend.” folding your arms across your chest, you approach the group, giving an awkward wave. Part of you had hoped it was a dream. The reality was an uncomfortable one to be accustomed to.

“Oh, so this is the esteemed friend you spoke of!” Venti approaches quickly, drawing a subtle flinch from Gene. “Of similar caliber to yourself, Creator?” The final word is what captures your attention. Creator? You had read the stories and Aus. This couldn’t possibly end well, could it?

“Yes. Y/N is from the same realm as myself.” Their discomfort was obvious, in need of something to lean onto. You approach, draping an arm across their shoulders.

“Yep! So… what tales of grandeur are said about you, Gene?” Perhaps if you can find what myths detail them, then you can prevent future danger.

“I’m not sure. I’ve been away for so long…” With a nervous laugh, Gene looks back to the people. Long conversations with strangers, no matter how familiar they seem, had always been a bit difficult for them.

“Do you have any tales, Venti?” You offer a point of conversation to the extroverted bard.

“Of course! I’ll tell you all about it. We’ve even got a whole, ehm... library, for you.” Venti laughed. “I’ll tell you about it when we get there. C’mon!” Approaching the end of the cathedral, opening the entrance to the basement. “Oh, Barbara! Is everything ready down there?”

“Yes, yes!” A rushed voice called back, the stairs creaking. The blonde deaconess exited the basement, curtsying as she spotted Gene. “It’s really you! And your attendant! It’s truly my honor to be present so soon after your descent.” Her words are honeyed, too sweet for your liking. “Um, please come down! We’ve been preparing it for you.” She ushers you down the stairs quickly, the creaking accompanying you.

You’re greeted by the expansive basement, the far ambulatory chambers with statues in the likeness of each archon, another in the likeness of Gene in the center of the apse. The nave has pews closer to the statue, albeit only a few rows. Bookshelves line the walls closest to the front. It is a meager church, unlike what you read about.

“The worship of the Creator is prohibited by Celestia.” Venti pipes up. “In fact, all texts about you were abolished and almost completely destroyed. This is what remains after years of tracking them down.”

“Venti happened to have a collection. After your signs began appearing across Teyvat, the churches and temples opened in secret again. I would say they began happening after the Traveler arrived in Mondstadt.” Barbara smiles sweetly. “You’re more than welcome to come here as much as you’d like.”

“Thank you.” The pleasantries continue as you wander over to the bookshelves, looking for interesting titles and points to research. “The Books of Creation”, “The Heavenly Principles” “Prophecies of the Primordial One”... Each book proves worthy of looking over. Pulling one off the shelf, you begin to read, opening to a note in the beginning. It appears to be a dedicated journal.

The Creator, on their own, is reality. The only god needed to prosper. With their blessings, our nation can prosper. Remember that, Alberr.

You skim through the everyday things, gathering context clues until you begin to read fully.

19.8.

The field tillers are working better than we thought they would. Other nations have expressed concern involving them, but it is a breakthrough that we cannot allow to go to waste.

24.8

Siarri consulted the books the other day. The Creator is due to return from their journey soon. Perhaps they can give us an ultimatum about the field tillers then. I don’t want to give up so easily on the years of work we’ve put into it. It’s worth being outcasted from the other nations.

24.8

Siarri has taken to calling me names.

1.12

The creator is late.

25.1

Khaenri’ah has fallen. Celestia came in with no prior signs of hostility. The archons were there too, fighting with a vengeance. Almost like they were taking something back. Were they upset because their people were inclined towards our ways?

Celestia has been in turmoil since then. Worship of the Creator has been outlawed. Does that extend to the archons? Aren’t they closer to the Creator than us mortals are? Barbatos and Rukkhadevata used to be all for the worship of the Holy one. Maybe the Cataclysm is what caused this change. It caused Khaenri’ah to fall, so I can only imagine what damage has been caused to Sumeru and Mondstadt. What damage it will eventually cause.

We can’t blame anyone. But we can make inferences. I’m going to travel and make as many connections as I can. I’ll get another journal to write that down in.

29.12

To-Do

Buy a new bag journal

Check in with the kids

Document Mondstadt

The journal is gently taken from you, glanced at briefly by the taker, and set aside. “I’m afraid that wasn’t meant to go to the library.” The voice is immediately recognizable. You turn carefully. “Kaeya, Knight of Favonius. It’s an honor.”

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines

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gravehags · 7 months

Text

i must confess to you (i want to possess you)

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: sinister Cumulus, stalking, brief description of fingering, possessive ghoulettes

Words: 991

Summary: She knows immediately upon seeing you that you're meant to be hers.

a/n: Listen I can have a little sinister Cumulus action, as a treat. Prequel to my previous fic fever for the fire, so I def recommend giving that a read first.

~~~

It starts in the garden.

Cumulus sees you on your knees, cheeks flushed and glistening in the sun as you dig your fingers in the damp soil and help Papa Primo plant his dahlias. She watches you from behind a pillar, eyes tracing over what is exposed of your form in your habit. The way your chest heaves with effort, the way you rest back on your haunches and wipe the sweat from your face with a smile.

She knows then she must have you.

Your main duties lie within the confines of the library, so she begins to hang around there more often, making sure to don her mask for relative anonymity. So diligent in your work, brows knitted as you help other siblings find the books they seek, the skirt of your habit hiking up your legs when you reach for a text. Cumulus adores the way you grin at yourself while reshelving books, so often flipping through pages to sate your own curiosity. I want to be the reason for that smile, she thinks hungrily, fingers flexing at her sides, ever-longing to touch you. She knows you’ve spotted her every once in a while, and she revels in the way your gaze lingers on the curve of her breasts and backside. You blush at the slightest provocation and late at night in her room, Cumulus thinks of that blush as she slips her fingers inside of herself.

You prefer to take your lunch breaks in one specific courtyard, one that is quiet and more intimate than the others at the abbey. Often you can be found curled up on the grass under the willow tree, snacking happily on whatever you’ve brought for yourself that day. You are such a lonely thing - you don’t have admirers flocking to you nor do you really spend your time with anyone else. It simultaneously makes Cumulus ache for the need in your heart, while also feeling relieved that no one else but her shows an interest in you. You are, after all, hers.

Soon, though, the observations from afar are simply not enough. She needs to be closer, to watch you unencumbered by the threat of other eyes. The growing desire to have you all to herself spreads like wildfire in her heart. So, one night, she transforms herself into mist and floats through your open bedroom window. When she manifests in her body she gasps upon seeing you. You’re fast asleep on your back, arms lying outside the covers. In an instant she’s at your side, ghosting her hand along your form while never really touching you. She admires the way your hair spills on the pillow as your snore softly, illuminated by moonlight. You are the most beautiful creature she has ever seen and it takes all her willpower not to place her lips on you.

Soon enough.

She watches you for an hour, maybe two, delighting in the little noises you make in your sleep. How desperately she wishes to slip into bed beside you, pull you close until she can smell your shampoo, then slide her hand in between your legs to wake you with a delicious surprise.

Soon enough.

The next day, when talk begins to spread of a little party for the library staff happening later in the week, Cumulus sees an opportunity. She has a plan. She confides in Dewdrop about her desire for you and, with a sharp grin, he agrees to assist her. Cumulus suggests to one of your coworkers that they should invite you and then, perhaps, at some point in the evening, abandon you. The sibling is perplexed but when Cumulus brings the threat of speaking to Papa about the matter, they are more than eager to comply.

The plan is set, all she needs to do is wait.

Cumulus delights in the warm evening air from her spot on the lounge, patiently waiting for your arrival. When she hears heels on the stone floor coming her way, she is filled with excitement and arousal. This is it. You step into the courtyard and remove your shoes, sighing heavily but not noticing her. Not until she speaks up, causing you to jump in fright. You’re irritated but pliable as you join her on the lounge, and Cumulus has to restrain herself from laughing triumphantly when your gaze lingers on the exposed swell of her breasts. You’re so filled with emotion and barely contained lust, it’s all she can do not to grab you and have her way with you on the spot.

But it turns out, that’s not necessary.

You give yourself to her willingly.

The first time your lips touch hers she feels as if she’s hovering ten feet over her body. So long she’s wanted this, and now here you are, so desperate for her. When she slides her fingers inside of you she delights in the abundance of your slick and the way you clench around her. You’re glorious like this, fucking yourself on her hand, and she cannot wait to see you come completely undone. Your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up, so Cumulus decides to finish the job for you, desperate to see you come. When it happens, she feels such an exaltant rush watching you keen and arch on top of her that it’s almost as if she's climaxed herself. You collapse on her, panting and when Cumulus slips her fingers into her mouth to taste you her eyes roll back in her head. You’re everything she’s dreamed of and more. When you tell her that the two of you should take this somewhere else, somewhere more intimate, Cumulus’ heart is filled to bursting.

“I know a place,” she says as the two of you stand, taking you by the hand and leading you towards the ghoul den.

Pretty, sweet, thing.

She has no intention of letting you go.

#cumulus x reader #cumulus x female reader #cumulus x f!reader #cumulus ghoulette #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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ariesbilly · 1 year

Note

They figure it out in Colorado. Standing side by side, ankle deep in Bear Lake, not holding hands because they're in public, but arms pressed together, and that's close enough.

Steve's thinking about all the things he'll have to tell Dustin about when they get home. All the photographs he'll have to show everyone that he took with the camera Jonathan let him borrow. Thinking for the millionth time about staying here. Let's just stay here. Where its blue like your eyes and wild like your soul and it feels like nothing can ever hurt us again.

Billy's thinking about how the water doesn't move. Like someone threw a muzzle on the ocean and dumped it in here. Thinking about how good Steve looks in the gold-green-brown hues, as breathtaking as the rest of the world. Thinks about following the flow of the wind, seeing where it takes them next.

Steve says; "Going home is almost going to be disappointing." Billy says; "Where to next?"

And their words clash in the middle, spoken in unison, sword against shield, and the lake swallows them whole as they look at each other. Because Billy roams free and wild and Steve roams on a leash, a tether point, always turns his nose home for the winter while Billy follows the seasons, runs alongside them.

And.

And when Billy takes him back, he only takes him as far as the sign. The invisible boundary that carves Hawkins out from the rest of the world, like he knows if he steps over it he'll step straight into the same leash. Pulls the Camaro onto the grass, idle, purring, engine on because Billy's not ready to stop yet, and Steve goes back to a home that's never felt emptier.

Back to a home that feels like Billy took half of everything inside. Half the bed. Half the kitchen table. Half the couch.

All of the golden warmth Billy filled the empty rooms with.

Billy sends him postcards. A handful a month, snippets of the world Steve's leash didn't stretch far enough for. Carrying Steve with him. Each of them orbiting each other, doomed to circle but never touch.

The postcards stop after two years.

The sun never really feels warm again.

He loves. He loses. He watches the people that made Hawkins home outgrow it and wonders if places have ever felt like home at all. If four walls and city signs and roads he could walk with his eyes closed were ever really the reason he came back.

He misses the sun.

Maybe it doesn't feel warm anymore because you're always following in someone's shadow, Hopper says over the lip of a beer, their new weekly routine. Maybe you need to stop hoping someone else will lead you to the light and start trying to find it for yourself.

Where do wild things roam?

Wherever the wind takes them.

So he goes. Follows the wind. Drags himself step by step out of the darkness and blinds himself in the light until his eyes adjust. Unclasps the leash and reels until he learns how to walk without its familiar pull.

He finds himself in places he's been and places he hasn't. Finds himself looking at shades of blue and thinking, too dark, too bright, none just right. Chases the echo of laughter and whispered promises that flutter on the summer breeze and pound at his ears in the spring showers.

They collide again in the patchy space between Colorado and Kansas. Like they were both breaking orbit, rushing to meet in the middle. Its been five years since Steve felt the sun and he burns alive in it now, sets alight, scorches his own shadow into the dirt.

Billy wears freedom the way high society thinks they wear couture. Snatched the shade of blue Steve was trying to find and locked it away in his eyes. He's still got the mullet. Its lighter. Part of its dyed blue. He never did get any taller.

Steve's stayed the same. Flowers don't grow without the light.

Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?

Yeah, its me. Don't cream your pants.

Did you forget which way was home?

Nah. Just took a wrong turn for it five years ago. Been trying to find my way back to it since.

Billy smiles, and Steve can't ever remember what it felt like to live in the dark.

This part so true 🤧

Because Billy roams free and wild and Steve roams on a leash, a tether point, always turns his nose home for the winter while Billy follows the seasons, runs alongside them.

AND THE CONVERSATION WITH HOPPER I WILL YELL!!!

#obsessed with this exactly exactly exactly #harringrove #briana answers things

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adobe-outdesign · 1 year

Note

Could you review the snorlax line?

Munchlax is arguably somewhat unnecessary, but to be fair, it does have a unique angle to it thematically if not visually—Snorlax eats a lot but mostly sleeps, while Munchlax sleeps a lot but mostly eats. Combine that with it being more active and actually having its eyes open and it at least has bit of a different personality to it if nothing else.

Visually, Munchlax sports a smaller cream circle than Snorlax and a half-cream face. I'm not overly fond of the way the colors on the face split perfectly along the mouth (I know they didn't want to risk it being too close to Snorlax, but I feel like there could've been cream on the ears or something instead) and I would've liked a bit more definition to the lower body, but overall, it does what it needs to.

Snorlax has a pretty nice design, and fixes a few of the things that bothered me about Munchlax (or maybe Munchlax just broke the things that I liked about Snorlax, seeing as it came later).

The belly being all cream draws attention to the stomach, and the way the cream continues over the head feels very natural. The little V on the forehead also mimics the shape of the ears, which is a nice touch. Its fatness and simple monster design are also appealing—it's very friend-shaped, and it's easy to imagine lying down on top of this guy for a nice nap.

Snorlax is also arguably the funniest Pokemon conceptually, as the entire design is based on one of the game planners, Kōji Nishino, with the joke being that he's lazy and eats moldy food. It even looks like him:

(Apparently Nishino took the joke in stride, seeing as he uses a Snorlax in B2W2.) It was also designed to be a roadblock for the player, though that's not as important.

If there's anything about Snorlax that bugs me visually, it would just be that the paw pads feel like they should've been teal and it bugs me that the forepaws have more claws than the hind paws. That's it, though; otherwise, it's a simple but enjoyable design.

G-max Snorlax really did not need to exist and I would've rather seen Torterra take its spot given the similar concept, but it's not bad for what it is.

Visually, it's basically just Snorlax with plants, but given the concept that's all but inevitable. I do think the red patches compliment the red outlines nicely though, and the tree provides a central focus point (important, given that you can't normally see its face).

Conceptually however, it is pretty funny that it's effectively been lying there long enough to start growing grass, much like sloths eventually become mossy because they move so slowly. This also makes sense thematically as well (unlike something like g-max Meowth, which is funny but conceptually unrelated to the base Pokemon). And, of course, having the route-blocking Pokemon basically form its own route is also pretty clever. It's not overly necessary, but it's at least a fun form if nothing else.

Overall: Munchlax is a suitable pre-evo, Snorlax is friend-shaped and has a pleasant, simple design, and g-max Snorlax has a pretty fun and straightforward concept. Overall, a nice little line.

Also, side note: Snorlax's name is based off of Kirby (yes, that Kirby) in Japan and I think that's funny.

#snorlax #munchlax #gigantamax snorlax #pokemon #pokemon reviews

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 11 months

Text

Magnolia Jasmine

Part 1: Pilot

Warnings: canon typical violence, explosions, some fear, mommy issues, wasps

Word Count: 2400

You are a disappointment to your mother, this you know. Your mother is fierce, beautiful, and brilliant. She is also controlling, particular, and unpleasable. You share the same fiery red hair, but that’s where the similarities end. You take after your dad and his family. Even your hazel eyes are from him. You think your mother secretly resents you for being so little like her. She had never confirmed it, and your dad wouldn’t really talk about it, but you think she had gotten pregnant with the sole purpose of having someone with her abilities to follow in her footsteps. Why else would she have approached your dad, someone who came from a family with plant based abilities, seduced him and gotten pregnant all within the span of 2 months? And as soon as she was pregnant, she broke off their relationship and had a shared custody agreement ready to go. With how you were raised, that’s the only explanation that makes sense.

“Again, Magnolia. You are supposed to be growing a tree, not a rose bush.”

“It’s not working, Mom.”

“If you actually tried, it might.”

“Or maybe, I just can’t grow trees. Maybe I can only do flowers like Aunt Nicki.” You love Aunt Nicki, always look forward to visiting her. She can’t grow without plant material, and she can only work with flowers, generally pink for whatever reason, but she’s kind and she teaches you the different meanings of different flowers.

“You are my daughter, you should be able to do much more than your father’s side of the family can. You just need to apply yourself.”

Your mother had been telling you this for years. Ever since you first started walking, dandelions popping up wherever your bare feet touched the dirt, she had been laser focused on growing your power. You are 12 now, and you can bloom all kinds of flowers, many weeds, and several vining and tropical plants. Your father is always impressed when he visits, but it’s not enough for your mother. She expects you to be able to grow anything she can, or could when she was younger. But in the 11 years you have been using your power, you have never grown any trees, edible food, or even grass. It was difficult for you to grow anything that did not blossom at some point, unless you already had a sample of the plant next to you while you tried.

“I am trying, Mom. I promise!”

“At your age I could grow and manage an entire greenhouse full of exotic plants with ease. You can barely keep some of your sunflowers alive without touching them day and night. You need to try harder.”

You dig your fingers back into the dirt and put all your energy and focus towards growing a tree. So much so, that you don’t notice the blood starting to run from your nose until your mother grasps your wrists and wrenches you away from the ground.

She wipes below your nose with her thumb and shakes her head. “Disappointing. Go inside and clean yourself up. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

You go inside and wash your hands and face. It’s barely 6 and you are exhausted. You sleep through dinner and until your mother wakes you up at sunrise the next morning. You hate summer break. It just gives her more time to ‘teach’ you.

It continued this way for years and you made very little improvement in the diversity of species you could grow. You did, however, begin to excel in maintaining your plants from a distance. Much to your mother’s horror, you could even keep cut flowers preserved at a distance for days longer than was natural.

“I don’t understand why you insist on killing your plants for your own amusement, Magnolia. Cut flowers are just awful.”

You turn your back to her and roll your eyes. “The flowers will die eventually, Mom. This way they can share their beauty with others before they do.”

“I thought I raised you better than this.”

“Aunt Nicki cuts flowers all the time. The plant doesn’t feel pain like we do, sometimes cutting the flowers even helps with growth. You have to prune some things for them to thrive.”

“If you had better control of your power, you wouldn’t need to.”

You sigh, it was never enough for her. Even when you were 16 and began to communicate with bees and hummingbirds and butterflies, she was still disappointed.

“Dad said his great grandma could do it too! Isn’t it cool? They follow me around sometimes, which can get annoying, but they love when I bloom flowers for them!”

“You take after your father’s side of the family too much.”

Looking back, you think that is the exact moment you decided you were going to move far away from her one day. You won’t be a tool to further her sometimes extreme planet first agenda, even if you were powerful enough, you decide that you want your own life.

It had always been a given that you would go to college. Both your parents had their doctorates, though your father often told you his had been more trouble than it was worth. Instead of staying in state for school, you applied to places across the country. You may not have been as powerful as your mother, or a genius like either of your parents, but you are smart. Smart enough to graduate highschool near the top of your class. Smart enough to get into NYU and be granted a large scholarship.

“How do you plan to go? It’s expensive and halfway across the country.”

“I have some money saved, I can at least afford the first year if I get a job there. I wanted to ask if I could borrow some money from you. I plan to pay it back, with intere-”

“Absolutely not. I will not pay for you to leave and go to school that far away. You are supposed to be here, with me, practicing.”

“I am never going to be as strong as you, Mom! And as much as I love the planet and hate how much people are killing it, I don’t want to be an ecoterrorist like you were. I want to go to school and learn and maybe make friends. I want to explore things and figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“Go ahead then. Be ungrateful and leave me here. When you run out of money, you’ll be back.”

Your dad had a much different reaction than your mother.

“I’m so proud of you, Blossom! You are going to be brilliant in whatever you choose to do. Now, I don’t want you worrying about money and working too hard while you’re supposed to be studying and enjoying your youth. I’ve been building a college fund for you ever since your mother found out she was pregnant. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

You are practically speechless when he shows you the account and helps you set up automatic tuition payments. Your mother refuses to speak to you the few weeks leading up to your move in date and you are happy when your dad asks if he can come with you to help get settled.

The years go by fast. You alternate holidays at your parent’s homes and spend less and less time with your mother. You rarely speak to her at all, sometimes months go by without a word. Your dad is better about calling you, but he gets distracted easily. At some point near the end of junior year, you decide you want to open up a flower shop. Thanks to the college fund from your dad, you have been able to save some money during your years at school. After graduation, you spend a couple years working two jobs. One in plant based research and another at a high end flower shop. You even add in a third job waitressing for a while. But it isn’t until your grandma dies and leaves a large chunk of money to you in her will that you are finally able to open up a tiny store just before your 25th birthday.

Your affinity for plants gives you an edge and saves you a lot of time and money. You keep many pots of live flowers growing in your store and in your tiny apartment. Your customers appreciate seeing how fresh your flowers are, sometimes you even cut their selections in front of them.

You aren’t necessarily hiding your power by studying botany and opening up a flower shop. But this is New York City, and there are much stranger things to notice than a girl with a metaphorically green thumb and a downright friendly relationship with most pollinators. People don’t mind that your flowers stay fresh longer than they should and the plants you sell thrive and grow under near impossible conditions. They don’t mind, likely because they either don’t notice or there are much worse things to be concerned about. Things like electricity controlling criminals and flying, goblin-like villains.

It’s not that these were daily concerns, far from it. Spider-Man usually kept people safe and you were happy to leave the crime-fighting to him. Except for today. Today, the news alert on your phone has notified you, a few minutes too late, that Spider-Man has been seen fighting a wasp swarm that seems to be controlled by a team of men through some technological device. Too late, because you are currently watching this from behind a dumpster, having run into the alley the moment the explosions started. It looks like less of a fight and more of Spider-Man trying to stay out of the swarm’s reach while doing his best to thin them out and keeping civilians out of harm's way as the men reek general mayhem. His suit doesn’t seem to be sting proof and even with his extra durability, the wasps aren’t only attacking him. Enough stings can cause serious injury, especially in children.

So on this random day in May, you decide to take your first real dip into the world of vigilantism, in a much different way than your mother had ever intended for you. You tuck yourself closer to the wall and you tightly wrap yourself in a suit of vines, masking most of your face in soft pink petals, and weaving soft thin stemmed flowers through your hair until it is tightly braided and concealed. All this takes you less than 5 minutes, your mother would have expected you to do this in less than 1, but you were out of practice.

The first time you figured out how to use your flowers as clothing, you had been 13. Your mother used to wear costumes made of green vines when she was younger, so you scoured the internet for pictures and then diligently studied the way the vines overlapped and intertwined. It had taken you weeks to form something solid and relatively comfortable over your own clothing, but it had been worth it. That was one of the only times your mother had ever been proud of you.

You take a deep steadying breath, then dash back out into the madness. Start small, you tell yourself. Much of the street has been blocked with cars and debris, preventing people from easily escaping, especially the group of elementary school aged children hiding behind their chaperones. This you can help with. You sprint towards them, crouching once you are close, placing your bare palms to the pavement and summoning sturdy vines, mainly composed of kudzu, and instruct it to twist itself into steps, creating a bridge over the worst of the rubble.

“It’s okay, you can come out,” you wave to the children and their 3 supervising adults. Another blast across the street sends vibrations through the ground and a few screams are audible. The kids are terrified and the adults aren’t much better. “Hey, I’ll keep you safe, all you have to do is climb a few feet and you can get outta here.” You beckon them closer and this time they respond.

Half of them are over the structure when a swarm of wasps notices the movement and charges. I can help with this too, you reassure yourself as you reach out pseudo-telepathically to the insects. We are all nest-hive-friends-harmless. Calm-soothe-safe.

It’s hard to directly translate anything you communicate to pollinators, most often it’s more of an impression or image that you send towards them. A feeling or direction. These wasps are confused, the technology controlling them is sending impulses they don’t understand and your instructions are conflicting. You decide it’s best to send them as far away from here as possible. Home. Go home. Leave-flee-fly-away. Home.

The swarms all follow your instructions, breaking free of the control of whatever tech the villains had created. Another explosion almost knocks you off your feet and you turn to watch Spider-Man get thrown back against the building from the force of the blast.

You have no idea what these guys are after, maybe they just want to blow shit up and kill Spider-Man. You would really like to go back home, but the masked hero isn’t getting up fast enough and the bad guys are pointing their weapons at him.

“Frick, okay, here goes nothing,” you tell yourself as you kneel and place your bare palms on the cracked pavement. Thorny vines of roses reach up from the ground around Spider-Man’s assailants, wrapping around their weapons and yanking them down and to the side until they are no longer pointed at anyone. Spider-Man takes advantage of your distraction and quickly wraps the 3, now unarmed, men in webs, removing any remaining tech from their wrists and leaving them to dangle from the ceiling. You take this as your que to leave, you aren’t needed anymore.

You disappear into an alleyway and remove your plant based suit, before speed walking home as fast as you could.

*****

Spider-Man had noticed you while he was busy dodging explosions and angry wasps. Briefly, he had worried you were another threat, but that fear left once he saw you help the kids and disperse the wasps. It hurt like hell when he got caught between two blasts and slammed his head against the wall. He was preparing to dodge the coming fire even with his bruised ribs and ringing ears, but you had saved him the trouble.

He wishes he could have talked to you or even just thanked you before you disappeared. At least he had a handful of flowers to take home to Aunt May tonight.

******

Let me know if you want to be added to or taken off a tag list! Feedback is the spice of life, any and all thoughts are welcome.

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#peter parker x you #peter parker x ofc #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!spiderman x you #andrew garfield #original female character

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getosuguruswife · 2 years

Text

A WILD AFTERNOON

content : Geto x f!reader, public sex

MDNI

Geto is a gentleman, like yes he will fuck your brains out, rail you to the point you'll feel it in your toes, but he will then massage your feet to make them less sore. He has always loved to fuck, but there's nothing like the pussy of the girl you love, and clearly, the sex with you was the best he ever had since he was so infatuated by you. Now that he knew what it felt like, he never wanted to leave and fuck somebody else ever again, his dick belonged to no one else but you, and he would become your slave if you wanted to. You were very beautiful of course, like a lot of women on Earth, but your energy, your spirit was definitely transcendant, and Geto loved it so much that he felt the need to bury his cock deep inside of you to feel its full power.

You can't say you didn't feel the same way. Looks were one thing (despite Geto's beauty being out of this world), but to be so connected, so in phase with someone's mind was a one of a kind type of experience and your love for him made you eager for sex, for physical touch no matter the time or the place.

The best sex you ever had with Geto had to be in a field. After a long week of work and stress, your boyfriend and you decide to escape on a romantic getaway in the countryside, where his parents own a vacation home. As the weather is perfect to go for a walk, you do so, hands in hands, in the middle of the nature. Once you arrive on a huge grass field where little potentilla flowers are forming yellow dots everywhere, you stop, lay a large cloth on the grass, and sit on it.

It doesn't take long for you two to be all upon each other, tongues dancing in each other's mouth, making the loudest sounds that would gross out anybody that hear it. Geto is always so passionate about his kisses, and while his mouth is against yours, his hand is ruthlessly palming your tit, which makes you mewl in pleasure. He gets quickly on top of you, releasing your tongue from his and ready to lift the flowery-summer dress you wear. Realizing you don't wear any panties makes his dick grow harder into his pants, to the point where it could crack it, and after freeing himself from the then-tight fabric suffocating his package, Geto took his hard and veiny dick out of his pants and pressed open his two large hands on each of your thigh , opening himself a free way to your wet pussy. It has been 2 years since you started dating, and still he is looking at your fat cunt like a wolf ready to jump on its prey, and you catch a glimpse of danger in the bright of his eyes, but that turns you on so much, that you moan without even realizing it. You feel your face getting warmer under your skin once you see your boyfriend smiling from the corner of his mouth, but you know he isn't making fun of you, he loves the effect he has on you, and he was so ready to make you cry his name.

Geto shoved his dick right in between your lips, and your wetness made it way smoother than expected. "So fucking warm and wet for me, ugh baby?"

You were already screaming like a little animal caught in a trap. "Yes baby, you make me so fucking wet." His pink tip is kissing your cervix and it hurts, but that's how you like your sex : a mixture of pleasure and pain, all at the same time.

His hands are still forcing your legs open, and while he is holding his grip, he gets deeper and deeper into your hole, making your whole body move under his pace. At one point he frees your boobs of your dress, and puts his hand back on your thigh. Now that he has full vision of your tits moving from up to down, plus a slight vision on your clit getting pinker and pinker at his thrust, he can hardly keep himself from cumming inside of you. He will though, (because he is gentleman, remember?) and he can't imagine not giving his woman a mind-blowing orgasm before having his.

Eventually, you come to it, grateful that the field was remoted enough for you to scream as you pleased. You're tired, breathless, but you need more, and Geto hasn't cum yet. As crual as he is, he isn't going to let no time for your body to recover from this overwhelming stimulation, and starts grabbing the under of each of your thighs. Once you understand his intention, you surround his neck with your arms and let yourself get lifted by the man. He is now standing up, so tall that you almost feel dizzy into his arms, although you did that a thousand times. Geto's cock is still deep inside of you, and he makes sure for it not to leave your struggling cunt.

"Baby, you creamed so bad on my dick! I have no choice but to fuck you with your own juice now.." He whispers in your ears, making your walls clench around him, despite you thinking it was dead after what he just did to you. Without warning he starts lifting you from up to down, making you jump on his still-hard wood and keeping his promise of fucking you in your own fluid. You hold him close to you, afraid to fall from all this movement, and with your face so close to his, can hear your man's masculine groans right in your ear. You already cummed, not that long ago, but it seems like he is engaging that machine all over again with them growls.

"Yes daddy! Harder!!"

Geto follows your instructions and get quicker with it. This time, it feels like his dick is beating your cervix, and as uncomfortable as it may feel, it's also so fucking good, and you wouldn't want him to stop. He lifts you up so high that you're flying, only to make you go deep down on his cock, and honestly, you don't think you'll ever be able to walk normally after this.

After long minutes of intense sport, it becomes harder to breathe, your hair is sticking to your sweaty forehead, and you know you'll come soon enough. Geto slams his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth once again, and with how strong he is going in your pussy, you understand he is at the edge of exploding inside. You lock your legs around his waist, holding his neck tightly, and the two of you finally explode in a loud groan.

Geto tries to put you back on the ground, but you feel your legs shake as soon as your feet hit the grass. He catches you, amused that you were about to fall, and you give him an ugly stare. After all, he was the one who did this.

You rested a good 30 minutes in the field, needy of some time to get back from the crazy sex you just had, and realizing how bold of you it was to fuck in a place where everyone could have seen you. But as embarrassing as it felt, you knew you was going to do it again.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto smut #geto suguru #getou x y/n #getou suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #jjk getou #getou suguru #suguru geto x reader

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dokuixote · 2 years

Text

falling in love with seventeen’s 97z

☆ LEE SEOKMIN

— you bid farewell to the the harsh chills of winter; frozen hands and clattering teeth are long gone. the grass looks greener, the sky seems brighter, and the air is filled with so much hope for new beginnings you feel it crawl in every inch of your skin. but you, you didn’t need to go through all other seasons of the year to have a bright, sunny spring because this is how dokyeom’s love feels. he first said hello with a shy, sheepish smile and you said hi back with a grin, sparkled by a new yet familiar feeling, as if it’s the first time you stepped on the grass barefoot after locking yourself inside the comfort of your home to protect yourself from the cold. with dokyeom’s kindest eyes and most welcoming smile, you found yourself willingly embrace this newfound freedom. hands accidentally brushing against each other and awkward laughs to cover unwanted silence eventually turn to sneaking kisses on the cheeks (few on the nose), stolen photographs, late night phone calls, and plans for the future that often involve debates on how many dogs to adopt and what to name them. home, since then, was this person who brought himself to you, providing security and solace more than the four-walled concrete you used to confine yourself in. as you spend more days with him, the warmth bubbling inside you grows and grows you start feel his love everywhere, brightness filling up every corner of your of life. he brought light to the parts of you that you’ve never felt brave enough to show before. no fear, fight, or fury could douse the light of twin flames—your love for one another burns still you began to forgot what the cold found in darkness feels like because even if the sun kisses the earth good night dokyeom’s love made you feel brighter than any star.

☆ KIM MINGYU

— mingyu knows the wonders of abandoning careful planning in exchange of surrendering to spontaneity. the man loves to be on the giving end of surprises. he’s the one with coffee in hand when your day starts too early for your liking. he’s the one giving you a ribboned box with the exact necklace you once pointed at as you stroll along the mall together “just because”. he’s the one ringing the doorbell of your house at exactly 12am with a birthday cake on one hand, a string of balloons and a bouquet on the other. he’s the one standing at the door of your classroom ready to treat you to your nearby favorite restaurant after a difficult exam. he’s the one coming over to your house at 2 in the morning when you texted him that you’re tired and on the verge of a breakdown. he’s the one showing up at your house when you’re ill, unannounced, to cook and serve your favorite meal. so see, you fall in love with him like that too—suddenly. he’s always there when you needed him most, and he’d promised to be by your side even when you don’t. you wake up one morning and realize that all along you and mingyu were always somewhere between friends and lovers. all you needed was a little push. you have to admit it’s scary to jump blindly with seemingly nothing to land on to. a chance that it will go wrong, a possibility to lose him, there’s so much to be afraid of. but you go for it anyways, and so does mingyu. as much as he loves surprises, it isn’t, however, a surprise to you that it’s mingyu, the person who has always known how to love you, is the one beside you holding your hand as you allow yourself to fall.

☆ XU MINGHAO

— minghao believes in building a world full of love through art. you can see it in his clothes, dance, photographs, books, and paintings. but his most beautiful art of all is found in the way he loves you. in quiet mornings and tangled sheets you feel his gaze soaking in all your patterns and his touch running over your textured edges, minghao humming in appreciation and wonder. he never gets tired of basking in all your colors—the yellows when he sees your face light up as he spins you around the open space of your kitchen, hues of blues when your thoughts are loomed over by clouds of sadness he longs to instantly blow away for eternity, and the violent red streaks he despised seeing during heated arguments he wishes never happened at the first place. minghao’s love possesses the same intimacy of looking at a framed picasso in the museum. he knows it requires time and patience to see, feel, understand, and experience everything that makes you whole. you easily get lost in his eyes that become the hands reaching your soul with the way he looks at you. the painter’s hands devotes themselves in exploring you because it’s the extension of his beating heart. he created a universe with a language that only the two of you speaks which allowed enough space for vulnerability and intimacy. with all this love you know you won’t find in anyone else, you wonder how he still looks you in the eyes and tell you you’re the one who’s beautiful.

svt x love series: 95z, 96z, 97z

#📝#💎 97z #⚔️#🐶#🐸#Spotify #lee seokmin #seokmin x reader #dokyeom #dokyeom x reader #dk x reader #mingyu #kim mingyu #kin mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 #minghao #the8 x reader #minghao x reader

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