#they hold hands several times love that for them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

larcenywrites · 2 days

Text

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you.

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself.

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly.

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon.

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest.

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead.

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church.

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor.

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven.

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire.

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say.

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments.

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word.

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof.

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding.

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled.

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin."

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough.

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you.

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in.

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going.

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs.

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another.

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember.

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude.

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs.

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist.

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines.

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin.

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure.

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot.

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you.

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh.

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead.

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant.

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear."

210 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 2 days

Text

Make You Mine

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Friends to lovers)

Word Count: 930

Summary: You and Joel have been friends for some time and when he comes to rescue you from a shitty situation all the tension that's been building comes to a head and he takes you home to make you his.

Author's Note: This is a stand alone story but thank you to the lovely @casa-boiardi I wrote a little something for what happens when they get home❤️You don't have to read Where You Belong first but of course you can if you want 🥰All these new pics of Pedro filming have been driving me crazy- in the best way-so yummy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness mixed in with all the yummy, he can't get enough and you can't either, fingering, oral (f rec), p in v

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The door to your house swings open with the force of his push and when he slams it shut he pins you against it, his breathing harsh and heavy as his fingers trace the curve of your jaw.

“I want to go slow,” he rasps, pressing closer. “I want to touch you everywhere, taste you everywhere…”

His free hand rests along the door just above your head, fingers fisted and pressing into the wood as he fights to control himself.

With his name falling from your lips in a whispered plea you drag your hands down his soaked shirt and dig your fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

The rain still falls outside and you’re both drenched, your clothes sticking to your skin. You stay like that for several moments, pressed together with lips hovering just an inch apart.

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “Fuck.”

The words have barely left his lips before he kisses you, dropping his hand from the door and taking you in his arms. He can’t get you close enough and you can feel the temptation in every part of his body, muscles tense as he traces each of your curves.

“I want to go slow…” he says again, maybe to remind himself, or you, before he rolls his hips, and whispers, “but I don’t think I can control myself.”

“Don’t,” you answer, matching his movements and working hard to pull the wet shirt from his body.

He gets the message and releases you just enough to haul if off. His jeans hang low, molded to his thick thighs and your fingers fall to the button, working it open quickly.

When the denim hangs loose, revealing more of his dark trail of hair, you lick your lips and try to tug them down further but they cling to his wet skin.

He hisses out your name when you reach between his legs but tries to focus on tugging the straps of your dress from your shoulders.

Thick fingers fumble for the zipper at your back, finally grabbing hold of the small piece of metal and pulling it down slowly. He steps back from the door and takes you with him, watching intently as he peels the dress from your body.

It looks as if he wants to say something but instead he hauls you possessively back into his arms and kisses you, his lips soft despite the scraping of his beard. His large hand splays at the small of your back, sweeping upward until he cups the back of your neck and tilts your head to deepen the kiss.

Your back hits the door again and you moan into his mouth, still desperately trying to get his jeans over his thighs but he falls to his knees, taking your panties down with him. He looks up at you, his dark hair even more tousled, the ends drying and curling more than usual. The curls frame his face, flushed and eager.

“Just a taste sweetheart. I need it.”

Your fingers thread through his hair and when he rests your leg over his shoulder your knees almost buckle. His kisses are soft as they move along your calf then to your inner thigh and tease you with every inch that brings him closer.

His eyes close for the briefest second and his nose bumps your clit, so light, but the sensation makes your entire body react. His inhale is long and deep and hums with satisfaction.

“Oh my god, Joel.”

The swipe of his tongue is just a tease at first, light flicks that drive you wild and have you begging for more. When you can’t take it any longer you give his hair a sharp tug and he pushes his tongue deeper to taste you, working you over like a man so consumed he can’t do anything else.

His rough beard drags along your delicate skin and his fingers glide up your leg, gathering the wetness between them.

“Yes, yes, please,” you chant, rolling your hips.

He pushes one finger inside you, then another, groaning when he feels you squeeze around them. Your legs start to shake and you pull his face closer.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he murmurs, “show me how much you love my face buried between your legs.”

When he sucks your clit between his lips it sends you over the edge, the rush of pleasure overwhelming and his name the only thing you can remember.

He stands slowly, kissing along every inch of you until he’s upright and holds you in his arms, giving you time to catch your breath. His shoulders feel so strong under your palms and you press your lips to his neck, feeling the wild beat of his pulse.

His eyes meet yours and he takes your face between his hands.

“Joel,” you whisper, gently bumping your nose to his. “Joel, I want you inside me. Make me yours.”

The heat in his gaze matches the burn of your skin and he reaches for his jeans, grasping and pulling until they’re down at his ankles. He settles against you, hard and thick but his touch is soft and reverent with every kiss and sweep of his fingers.

He fills you slowly, holding your stare before he’s fully seated, the breath rushing out of your lungs. Then he kisses you, stealing your breath even more and whispering against your lips, “how the fuck do you do it, sweetheart?”

“Do what?” you gasp.

“Taste even sweeter now that I know you’re mine.”

And you want to be his, more than your next breath.

@lorilane33 @kmc1989 @lizette50 @hiddles-rose @littleseasiren

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #protective!joel miller #friends to lovers

305 notes · View notes

glitterjay · 2 days

Note

i need you to please expand being hee's pillow princess please 🥹😭

⭒ dom!heeseung, pillow princess!reader (fem), head (f. receiving), face fucking, overstimulation, heeseung is rough, dacryphilia, cussing, suggestive content under cut mdni

⭒ c's note: your wish is my command 🫡. reblogs are appreciated!

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks

heeseung had you where he wanted you the most, under his strong arms. you tried to fight back so he could free you from his harsh hold. he was beyond excited to give his pillow princess what she deserved for looking so incredibly cute and small all the time.

he was quite harsh; the grip his hands had on your wrists was definitely going to give you bruises. he was scanning your naked body up and down, licking his lips every now and then.

your eyes were starting to tear up because of the grip heeseung had on you. it was just what he wanted. to him, your face looked far more beautiful when it glowed, but only if it was caused by your pretty, crystal-clear tears.

"already fucking crying? we haven't even started yet."

you were seeing stars spinning at the top of your head. Your eyes kept rolling back, your back arched, and you moaned loudly as heeseung kept eating you out like a starving man. your legs were shaking, but he kept them still with his own two hands. you tried pushing him away, pulling his hair as hard as you could, but he wouldn't budge.

he was basically using you as his toy, not caring how much you enjoyed it or hated it. his priority was to fulfill his dirty thoughts and boy was he doing an amazing job.

heeseung left your overly sensitive clit alone when you reached yet again another orgasm. he was satisfied to see your entire body shaking in desperation as your head sank further into the mattress. his chin was glistening with your juicies, which tasted like heaven to him.

without letting you rest for more than a minute, he grabbed your arms and pulled you up harshly. your body fell on top of his standing figure, not being able to gold yourself up. heeseung loved when you depended on him.

he was quick to have you sitting on top of his face. his eyes were glowing as your dripping cunt was aligned perfectly with his face. he could devour you whole, and he would. "such a filthy whore, still here even when your body can't handle more."

he was right. you felt like you could pass out at any second, but he was a lot stronger than you were. he was the one keeping you there. you were pathetic and helpless, which only turned on heeseung even more.

his strong arms pressed your hip down, so you were quite literally sitting on him. he was quick to start eating you out again, this time with more pleasure as his nose made direct contact with your sensitive bud.

his tongue was fucking in and out of your hole. yet again, heeseung was the one making you bounce up and down. what came out of you were no longer moans, but screams of desperation. your thighs closed on his face, strangling him with force. all heeseung could do was let out a muffled laugh. he was sick to the head.

after hours of torturing you, he finally set you free. by that, it meant leaving you alone in bed since you couldn't move at all. he was the one who put your clothes back on and gave you a peck on the forehead.

his whole aura had changed. it was no longer heavy and scary; it was nice and warm. his dedication was now to take care of you, as if he wasn't the cause of your nearly fainting several times.

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #kpop #hard hours #kpop smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen x reader #heeseung #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut

213 notes · View notes

yurinaa-world · 2 days

Note

hii, may i send in a request for Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine and Sunday with platonic headcanons of them maybe with their child who has a severe illness? Like how would they look after them/attend to them.

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Sunday !Platonic x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: with a reader who has a severe illness + how would they look after you

Warnings: angst to sort of comfort?, spelling mistakes,

notes: I'm sooo jetlagged rn

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Death can come in seconds with a person even realizing but you do anything since it’s already too late. It’s the same in the end, you cry, give flowers since regret means more than gratitude ever could; then just leave and never look back.

Does it have to be the same? Not for you. He'll care even when no one else will, he’ll stay and listen to you cry, even if it’s a childish thing like wanting to see the world instead of being stuck in this awful room with wires attached to your body.

He visits when he can–which is when he’s not on missions–when he isn’t he stays with you most of the time, showing up with bags of gifts but what’s the use if you’re paralyzed, too tired to move yet not enough to finally sleep–at least to be free for a couple of hours of pain–So the gifts are open and sit around your room to make the room look alive.

He ends up sitting with you in silence, watching if your heart rate went up or anything that has drastically changed in your health. He holds your hand and wipes your tears since you always cry since you can barely sleep and your eyes are just so tired that you can’t anymore.

The scarce days that you can even sit up in your bed and gaze outside your window while looking at all the gift blades’ gotten you over the several months you’ve been unable to do anything. Yet now you're still weak and the quick recovery will change to worse in a couple of hours.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

He’s sentimental with you, just watching your face contort into pain as a fit of terrible coughs leaves your throat leaving it burning more than before. It was a complete never-ending nightmare for you until you finally were to be freed when you took your final breath of air.

He tries to bring an upbeat attitude to you, listening to you with contempt about whatever you may be talking about, like your dreams, goals, and wishes; maybe a chance to see life outside of this miserable room–yet deep down no one thinks you will.

He loves to bring you sweets–you can’t eat because most of the time you're bedridden–and toys–you can't play with. It's the duty of the general to make sure every citizen is safe and you mean the same to him even if you are sick–and dying.

You’re his child that's all that matters to him. The fake people's pity along with the whispers and disgusting assumptions. He hates it, he hates what they say is the truth–Since in the end, you’re the one dying, right? So what’s wrong with saying what everyone knows is going to happen.

𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒

Everyone comes to Pencony to have fun and let their dreams become reality yet you’re the pitiful one who must be stuck in your room all day whilst Aventurine is out and about having “fun” you can't help but be a little envious of him, yet you are love more than anything by and you’ll wait for his return as you’ve always have done.

Watching the lights from below your window along with the sounds of everyone having so much—you cut the sounds out since your body is a rotting corpse lying there.

But it’s not that bad!! Aventurine splurges on you whenever he can and wants!! Even if your room is filled with stuffed animals, util your room can’t handle all the stuffed animals, then he’ll get you a bigger room!! He just wants you to feel included in any way he can. Even playing board games with you, or even it’s patty cake.

Your dream is to be like other people. To be a “normal” kid since dreams will only ever be dreams and never be anything good for the hopeful.

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

You’re the child of the great oak family, a prized child even with ruined lungs, hoarse throat and weak rotting body, you’re still his child, the only reason he does the things he does is for your sake.

He always reads you bedtime stories no matter if it is the 100th time reading the same one or the first, your wish is his command. Even if it’s reading you a lullaby no matter how bashful and embarrassed he feels he’ll still do what ask just to see a bright smile on your face.

It’s okay, don’t cry, it's only just a couple of needles. The pain will go away in a second, you can handle it, right? That’s what he always tells you. Comforting you is the most important thing, you’re his everything, watching you cry or whimper at the face, needles, nightmares or anything else then he’ll do anything for you.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail x you #honkai blade #honkai blade x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine hsr #hsr x y/n #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday x you

308 notes · View notes

jinwoosungs · 1 day

Text

{ 165 }

reader inserts.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: pure crack and fluff 🥰

anonymous said: Ever just thought about Jinwoo finding reader reading an Jinwoo x reader fic? Cuz like he's a famous hunter, got good looks, and all so there's bound to be fanfics in solo leveling and then she's trynna exit the tab/app she was reading it on cuz she got caught😆

|| out of time, feat. s. jinwoo

- now i can't keep you from loving her, you made up your mind. -

rain was falling from the sky, painting your world in melancholic hues. as you allowed your forlorn gaze to look out the window from your bedroom was when you heard the familiar chime coming from your phone.

and it was at this moment that you received a text from your boyfriend, telling you to come meet him at the usual café you both tended to frequent at.

you didn’t think about how it was strange that jinwoo didn’t tell you he had finished his mission and came back home to your shared apartment-

you didn’t even think about how it had been literal weeks since you had last heard his voice-

for upon seeing his text for the first time in what seemed like months, all you could feel was a sense of relief and joy.

so your heart began to pound with anticipation, feeling the pinpricks of happiness start to fill your veins as you prepared yourself to meet him-

however, you couldn’t deny the undertones of anxiety you felt at the same time.

after all, this was the first time you had heard from your boyfriend in three months. sure, you saw him on the news that detailed all the raids he had taken part in. the invasion began several months ago, with numerous gates surrounding the city of seoul, and he, along with all the other s-ranked hunters, had been called to action.

but there was just one tiny problem-

hunter cha hae-in was also part of that roster, and that made you feel all the more scared and anxious.

during the three months that jinwoo spent away from you, hunter cha had always been close by-

acting almost like his second shadow as they raided each gate. and each time the news and paparazzi would catch a glimpse of them exiting the gate together, you swore that your eyes could see them holding hands.

throughout his 90 day absence, you convinced yourself that he was simply being courteous with hae-in; that they were just hunters working towards a similar goal-

nothing more, and nothing less.

yet when his nightly calls and daily texts seemed to steadily dwindle down with each passing day, you knew deep down in your heart that something was amiss. your heart no longer felt the warmth of jinwoo’s presence, and each time you looked down at your shadow to see not a single, glowing eye peering back at you-

you knew that deep down, jinwoo’s love had gone stale for you.

your mind rationalizes that it was over before it even began-

but your heart still held on to hope.

which was why you were left running out into the rain, making your way towards the café jinwoo had mentioned. you had hoped that this was a means of jinwoo begging you for forgiveness; for unintentionally ignoring you during those arduous three months he had left you to deal with the various gates-

that he still loved and needed you despite what all the rumors had said pertaining to cha hae-in and him.

yet the moment you entered the coffee shop and had already seen jinwoo settled at your usual table, you felt your heart stop at the mere sight of him.

he was dressed in his usual turtleneck and dark jeans, grey eyes seeming to look down with amusement as he kept texting someone on his phone all while smiling at the screen.

while he was texting, you became achingly aware of how not a single notification was heard coming from your phone-

which had to be more than enough proof that he was speaking to someone else, for the only text you had received from him was the one asking you to come and meet him.

don’t be stupid; you’re just feeling anxious than usual. just… just go up and talk to him already!

so you harden your resolve and take a step forward. jinwoo, sensing you and seeing you from his periphery, quickly pocketed his phone while giving you a wry smile-

a smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes like it normally would upon seeing you. he greets you by calling out your surname, and he didn’t seem to catch his mistake-

but you did.

even when he stood up to hug you, his embrace was awkward and stiff; his arm felt like deadweight to you as it remained utterly devoid of any warmth. he couldn’t even try to maintain such an embrace, already gently shoving you aside while gesturing for you to sit across from him.

you give him an almost robotic nod, taking a seat across from him as an awkward expression paints jinwoo’s handsome features. even now, when you were certain that your relationship with the hunter was on the cusp of destruction, you still found him to be utterly beautiful to you-

“listen, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but first and foremost, i have to admit that this isn’t your fault. that people fall out of love all the time…”

his admission truly was like a knife to your heart, twisting it painfully within your chest as you struggled to even breathe.

“you’re a lovely woman, and you’ve given me the best three years of my life-“

“but i’m not her, is that what you’re trying to hint at?” you quickly cut him off, a sob escaping from your parted lips, betraying your true emotions at this very moment.

yet you refused to let the way the guilt twist his features sway the absolute hurt and devastation you felt.

“how could you do this to me? especially when knowing how… how inferior i felt to her! a-and now, you just confirmed each and every one of my fears!”

“i had loved you when you had nothing; when you were nothing- and this is how you repay me? by throwing me away while running into HER ARMS?! you are the worst, sung jinwoo, and i hate you so much!”

you stand from your seat, eyes filling with tears as it made it difficult to see jinwoo’s expression. not even giving him a chance to speak, you ran out into the storm, hearing the rumbling of thunder as the saltiness of your tears were mixed in with the needle-like rain.

as you felt the rain seep into the fabric of your clothes, your heart feeling like it was being ripped apart from the confines of your chest-

deep down, you wished that jinwoo would come out in the rain and comfort you, seeing your pain while realizing that you were the woman that loved him all along as he brought you within his embrace, apologizing to you and telling you how much he didn’t mean it-

but as you continued to stay beneath the downpour, with not a single ounce of warmth surrounding you, you knew that sung jinwoo had already made his choice when he left you out here in the cold and unforgiving rain.

your relationship with him had run out of time after all…

{ … }

the gasps felt coming from your parted lips came from the genuine tears that streamed down your face as you read your favorite author’s latest work, feeling as though your heart was being ripped into two.

the pain was so fresh, so potent that you liked / sent kudos to the story all while commenting on this wonderfully written masterpiece. while exploring tumblr / ao3, you had found yourself in the mood for angst, one that spoke of unrequited love as jinwoo fell out of love with you-

yet perhaps this story seemed to serve your craving a little too well.

after you sent your comment, you nearly dropped your phone when jinwoo himself bursts out of the kitchen with a look of concern in his eyes. “sarang, what happened? i was going to call you, letting you know that dinner was ready, when i heard you crying.”

mortification was felt coursing through your very veins as you tried to hide the app / website away from him. in your panicked state, you kept sputtering out excuses, trying to hide your phone-

only to end up dropping your device on the ground. before you could even stop jinwoo from taking your phone, he already held the slender device within his hand, grey eyes scanning through the contents of the story you had just finished reading.

“unrequited love; jinwoo x reader; jinwoo x hae-in; angst no comfort- sarang, no way…! you’re into this silly stuff!?”

you could feel the heat dye against your cheeks when you weakly reached out to him, trying to take away your phone from him. you swore, you felt like dying when he kept looking at your phone, actually reading each passage of the insert out loud.

“…your relationship with him had run out of time after all…”

only when he finishes reading did he finally relent, allowing you to take back your phone. with you distracted, jinwoo wraps his arms around your front, earning a light squeak from you as he takes a seat on the couch while placing you in his lap.

a teasing smile paints his stupidly handsome features, and he was drawing comforting circles behind your back while calling out to you, “sarang…?”

you could feel his nose now tracing at your hair, inhaling your scent, but you were too embarrassed to say anything to him. instead, you stubbornly looked away from him, allowing the heat to travel across your cheeks as your skin continued to burn in response for getting caught in the midst of your guilty pleasures.

“why did you wish to agonize and torture yourself like this when you know that this will never happen? that i will always love you, no matter what.” he asks you, but this time while placing a hand beneath your chin. his grey eyes were sparkling with amusement for you, yet still, he comforted you, running his hands through your hair as he waited for your response.

all you could manage was a weak shrug, “uhm… it’s hard to explain b-but, i actually like reading all these inserts that you have. so many fans respect and adore you so much that they spend time writing about you.”

he rolls his eyes while gently poking at your cheek. “and truly, i don’t mind such fan content, since it’s purely fiction- however…”

jinwoo grips at your chin in an even tighter manner just then, “it’s a problem when it manages to upset you.”

“ah, no really, don’t get mad! it’s just the fans’ way of venting and coping, knowing that they cannot date you, so instead of being a crazed and stalking you, they simply write out their daydreams. it’s harmless fun, and r-really i was searching for something angsty to read!”

you defended all the fan fiction writers that existed, knowing that even cha hae-in and choi jong-in had their own fanfictions and inserts as well. now that you were out of the miserable world the story had painted and was currently settled within jinwoo’s warm embrace, admittedly, you felt better.

jinwoo sighs, letting out a groan of your name while brushing his nose against yours, “in that case, how about i make up a story right now to help you feel better?”

he sits back on the couch, bringing you even closer to his chest as you let out the sounds of light giggles. smirking at your laughter, he lets out a hum before beginning his own story.

“once upon a time, the man known as the weakest hunter fell in love with a girl that was pretty much his best friend…”

(“silly woowoo, inserts don’t start out like a fairytale!”)

(“hush, it’s our fairytale.”)

jinwoo clears his throat before continuing, “so this girl was pretty much the love of his life, bringing him absolute joy whenever she was around. he thought he could never change, become better for her, but thanks to a series of circumstances and the way he kept on wishing on falling stars for his dream to come true-

it worked.

no longer was he a man that could not protect the woman he loved. now, he was able to face his own personal trials and tribulations while always keeping the girl in the forefront of his mind. he no longer felt helpless and insecure when standing by her side… he became the man he knew she always wanted and needed…

and now, when the hunter found out how silly his lover was being, reading stories about him instead of realizing that the real deal was better than some fake daydream, he couldn’t help but laugh and tease her!”

he finishes his story with a rich chuckle, making your pout deepen as you began hitting at his chest with your hands folded in a fist, “jinwoooo, stooooppp! you’re just making fun of me now!”

instead of replying to you with words, jinwoo leans in closer to you, pressing a kiss against your pouty lips while still chuckling. “sorry, sarang, you’re just so cute that i couldn’t help but tease you a little.”

basking in your sputtering words, he casually picks you up, taking you into the dining room as he had every intention of spoiling you tonight. first with some of his delicious dinner, then later, with the proof of his pure love and devotion he had for you and you alone…

a.n. - lmaooo reader is the equivalent of “you cheated on me in my dreams, and now i’m mad at you 😡” 😂😂😂😂 this was so much fun to write, and yes, i made up that “angsty insert” at the start.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader

131 notes · View notes

risuola · 2 days

Text

BABY I'M YOURS — GN. READER X CHOSO KAMO

You knew that there's sweetness under the layer of cold and distance.

contents: fluff, fluff, copium, fluff, curseless au — 0,5k words

a/n: okay, so, here I am, fluff-ing my way through the severe devastation. enjoy <3

He was distant.

Intimidating.

But oh so sweet too.

The day you saw Choso for the first time — the day he transferred and joined your class — you were taken aback. He was gorgeous. The cold, but yet somehow warm, look of his face, his slightly droopy eyes and the dark scar that run across the bridge of his nose, reaching both cheeks made him look almost dangerous. He spoke, languidly and lowly, introducing himself sparsely and then, his place was found on an empty chair next to you. A brief eye contact was all it took to render you unable to focus for the rest of the day.

He moved to your college because of his brother and it was the first thing you learned about him. The love and passion that saturated every word he spoke about his sibling were enough to convince you that the icy look on him was a façade and there was much more underneath the edgy emo appearance.

You were getting closer, learning each other.

Class after class.

Week after week.

Evening after evening.

You fed him cookies — homemade — and he loved them. Not one person ever appreciated you more than he did when the levels of sugar in his blood raised. But then, the sweetness of cookies was nothing, compared to his lips.

He kissed you gently, his mouth grazing yours like a feather but you could’ve sworn right here and there, that late may evening, that you never experienced anything more intense than that. His touch was soft, ghosting right above your skin but burning right through it and you wondered if the beat of your heart is loud enough for him to hear, if it’s fast enough for him to notice, to feel what you feel.

“I want you to be mine,” you whispered — pleaded — against his lips, holding onto his dark-plum colored hoodie and not daring to open your eyes, too afraid to see the doubt and rejection in his own.

You felt him chuckle. A subtle shake of his chest, a soft huff of air against your mouth and it felt as if the world slowed down, stopped and nothing else mattered in that very moment. Your chest felt heavy, lungs full and empty at the same time, suffocating. He chuckled, and you wished he didn’t because it meant he wasn’t–

Your lips, until this moment apart, now pressed together forming a line and you forced an exhale out of your nose. The creases of fabric were the only sign of your fingers clinging to him and your hands, now heavy with regret and shame, fell to your sides.

“Silly,” he cooed, wrapping his thumb and pointer around your chin and making you raise your head, making you look at him and he looked sincere. You stilled as the tips of his knuckles followed the curve of your cheek and you didn’t dare taking a breath once he pushed a stray strand of hair back, tucking it gently behind your ear. “You are much sweeter than those cookies you made.”

Funny how you thought same thing about him.

“Choso, I–“

He smiled. A soft line of his lips tilted upwards and yet again he stole your breath away. The pad of his thumb pressed against your mouth, unaware that his beauty was enough to render you speechless.

“I am yours already.”

133 notes · View notes

queen-of-the-avengers · 2 days

Text

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car.

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

117 notes · View notes

scribbledghost · 2 days

Note

HIII if you’re able to do it can you make headcannons on what Simon would do if he saw the reader hurt

Also if you want can you also make some if he saw the reader severely hurt?

Thank you!! I hope you’re having an amazing day, I love your work❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much, friend! I'll split this into two "portions", as it were, one for just a mild injury, and one for a more severe one.

Minor injury:

Kind of depends on the circumstances, really.

Granted, he doesn't like seeing you hurt no matter what, but if it's from something like you wiping out like someone from those "fail compilation" youtube videos, he's probably gonna laugh at you for a bit before he helps you up lmao.

Probably a quick "y'alright, love?" in between some chuckles.

He'll help you up, get you patched up, and let you be on your way.

Don't let him fool you though, he does baby you a bit when you're dealing with anything more than a scraped knee.

Fond of forcing you to just sit back and let him take care of everything in those circumstances, really.

Sprained ankle? Bedrest. Broken wrist? Bedrest. Slept wrong and now your neck's sore? More bedrest.

With anyone else, he's a big fan of the "rub some dirt on it and walk it off" approach, but he tends to favor you. (Gee. Wonder why lmao)

Major injury:

Everyone in the immediate vicinity had better get the hell out of his way if they know what's good for them, because he's hauling you to the hospital.

No, he's not waiting for an ambulance. He'll get you there faster than an ambulance could, anyway. Even if he has multiple cop cars on his tail as he gets there.

He tries to turn on the autopilot in his brain, tries to let his basic medical training take over so he can at least stabilize you somewhat before he takes you. But it's hard when you're lying there, unconscious and bleeding out.

Simon is a wreck as he waits for any word on your condition. Plenty of pacing, with an incredibly short fuse to match. He'll probably call one of the 141 to let them know what's going on, and with a thinly-veiled plea for them to come to the hospital.

A lot of guilt eats at him. Guilt for not being there when it happened, or for not protecting you from it if he was in attendance.

Doesn't matter if it was just a very unfortunate accident, the shame still wracks him.

He thinks back to his family. His mum, Tommy, Beth, Joseph. He couldn't protect them, either.

It'll take some time for him to accept the notion that whatever happened to you wasn't his fault.

Once you're awake, he's... quiet. Contemplative. Spends a lot of time just sitting by your side, holding your hand and rubbing a thumb along the skin there.

He gets a bit more overbearing after you're home. Won't really let you do much for yourself, insisting on helping you with just about everything.

#ghost scribbles #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

102 notes · View notes

venture4treasure · 2 days

Text

“Stickers and stones”

Words: 1263

Premise: Artsy!Reader and Venture. Venture’s expedition gets extended and their flight back home is delayed. They miss their girlfriend.

Warnings: Very brief mention of alcohol

Venture mutely picks at their food, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst their chattering crew. After so many project extensions and flight delays, they finally got a break and flew home. Their team had decided to reserve a private room at a local diner for after their plane landed, excited to have some good food and finally relax with each other before heading their separate ways. Venture was originally onboard with the idea before their trip back home got delayed a whole month. They don’t want to bail on their team, so they forced themselves to stay.

“Oh, lighten up! The flight delays sucked, but we’re here now aren’t we?” One of Venture’s teammates shoves them playfully.

“I don’t have an appetite that’s all, jet lag maybe,” Venture mutters, forcing themselves to take a bit of their food and a drink from their beer.

“You always have an appetite,” someone else points out, “what’s wrong? Do share”.

Venture sighs, “I just miss my girlfriend“.

Some of their crew in earshot awe and coo at them making them shove their face in their hands to save some dignity.

“Why don’t you talk about her, I’d be happy to listen. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

“Well, she moved recently to this city. So, I’m actually only like 30 minutes away from her right now and I feel so robbed! I could be with her right now!” Venture exclaims, “not that I don’t like spending time with you guys, it’s just been a long project”.

Venture continues, “she moved here to ‘make it in the big city’. I don’t really get it, but the idea makes her so excited whenever she talks about it and I want to support her! And, oh gosh, I brought a bunch of rocks in my carry-on with me so I could give them to her when we see each other in case our luggage takes a bit to fly over… she’s just the best and I miss her so much”.

There’s a couple soft chuckles that eventually build into a group laugh. Venture blinks in confusion, they’re not sure why everyone is laughing.

“What?” Venture asks.

One of their colleagues snaps a photo of them.

“What? What’s so funny,” Venture repeats, voice raising in concern – they don’t know their team as people who would make a malicious joke like mocking their love for their partner.

Several people gesture at them to turn around.

Venture screws up their face in bewilderment, but they turn around nonetheless.

You smile brightly at Venture. And Venture’s eyes widen, they kick themselves out of their chair at a record speed to capture you in a hug. You hug back, patting them on the back.

A round of claps goes up around them. Venture releases you from their embrace, but grabs your hand to hold. They spin around.

“YOU GUYS KNEW?” Venture all but yells, there’s no real anger. They’re smiling so wide, it almost hurts.

“Surprise!”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Venture nuzzles your neck, as you smile bashfully, messing their hair, “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too,” you reassure, “also, you’re very sweet.”

“YOU HEARD ALL THAT?” They feign despair, face heating up with embarrassment.

Everyone gets a good laugh at Venture’s cry.

“I think I will be taking this one,” you say towards the table, slinging your arm around them, “thanks for inviting me to do this, and please send me the picture!”

You pull their hand and Venture follows you towards the exit.

“Venture’s a keeper by the way!”

“I know!” You shout back over your shoulder, you can feel Venture groan in embarrassment besides you.

When you reach the side of the road, you hail a cab. You catch up on news from your day-to-day life, and let Venture ramble about their expedition during the ride to your apartment. You admit to Venture that your apartment is small, much smaller than your previous house.

“The location was just too good! And the landlord is very kind to me, but it isn’t exactly a big place,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck, “I hope it isn’t too claustrophobic or anything”.

You unlock the door to your apartment and step inside to turn on the lights. It’s a spacious studio, but it is still a studio apartment so it’s not comparable to the space of a house at all.

Venture steps inside, taking in the decor – you’d hung up paintings and other creative projects on your walls to make them more interesting. There wasn’t much for furniture, you didn’t want to crowd the place.

“You framed these?” Venture asks, pointing at a framed painting. It is their painting and isn’t particularly good compared to yours.

“Of course! You made them for me, didn’t you? That makes it one of the most important things to show off!”

Venture makes a flustered noise at you in response.

You invite them to sit at the dining table, while you pull out something from the fridge.

“Do you want boba? I got some earlier today for you in case you didn’t make it back before all the local places closed”.

Venture gasps when you slide them the drink, it’s their exact order, you would know. They take a sip while you set some sweets at the table.

“Oh!” Venture digs through their bag, “these are for you!”

You settle down as Venture shows you some rocks, some have crystals sticking out of them and others are interesting colours or textures. They share with you how they came across them and why these rocks are the ones they picked for you. You take them, turning the stones around in your hand, appreciating them.

“So pretty! They will be added to my collection,” you announce, pointing at a shelf above your desk that Venture didn’t notice before. It displayed countless rocks you’ve received from them, each one with a decorated note propped next to it – the note entails the occasion Venture gifted you the rock and some personal notes adoring it.

“You kept them all?” Venture is touched, for a moment you think they’re about to cry.

“No! You can’t cry yet,” you exclaim, hurriedly shoving a small box towards them, “my gift for you, you have to open it first”.

It’s a custom painted box – an absolute work of art in Venture’s opinion, they can feel the texture of the paint. They gently shake it and they can feel the knocking of items. Taking great care to remove the ribbon – which you might’ve tied a little too complicated because it looked good – Venture opens the parcel. They stare at the contents, they’re not too sure what it is. It’s your art, they know that by heart from the colours and style.

“Take them out?” You suggest.

Venture tilts the contents of the box into their hand, and realization strikes them. They’re stickers. They flip through them, there’s a lot of stickers and there’s so many designs. This must’ve taken you forever.

“I-” Venture chokes, speechless.

“For you, so you can take something that reminds you of me on your trips,” you smile, “put them on your excavator maybe? I made them weatherproof so if you wanted you can”.

“Come here, right now”.

You get up to move over to Venture’s side of the table and they crush you with a tight hug. You throw your arms around their neck, pressing a soft kiss to their lips.

“You’re the best,” they breathe into your neck, “I love you. I love you”.

Author’s Note: Domestic stories are not my forte. To whoever requested, I hope I did your idea some justice o7

Link to request.

The picture is you standing behind Venture and making silly faces or gestures while they’re confused.

Additional headcanon for this, Venture is one of the younger people in the Wayfinder Society.

#venture fics #venture x reader #venture x you #venture overwatch #overwatch venture #venture #sloan cameron #sloane cameron #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

63 notes · View notes

sanesuki · 2 days

Text

Dimples

Modern AU | What happens when an emo skater meets a clumsy ballerina? Two people with completely different lives. Both with clear interest in one another, too shy to make the first move. Love will bloom of course!!!

No JJK Spoilers!

Choso x Y/N

Word Count : 2.9k

——————————————————————

Choso was at his usual skatepark, doing flips and tricks on the railings. He would come here everyday after his classes were over, only for an hour or two. Ever since he was little, he had a passion for skateboarding. It was his own personal oasis, an escape from the uneventful school life he had. He would spend hours perfecting his skills, it was much more entertaining than studying his class notes. To which he didn't see a point in doing, not to brag but he was a naturally gifted learner. Unlike others he didn't need to constantly study for good grades, he would just spend the rest of his time doing other things. Skating was one of them. When he first started coming to this skatepark, his days kept following the same normal routine. Constantly attempting to learn new tricks, wanting to improve and be better.

He was alone all the time. Though he didn’t mind that. Or so he thought. Many felt intimidated by his presence. He has been told in the past by many of his classmates at school that he should smile more, that it looks more “inviting”. His life isn't miserable, he's okay with being on his own most of his time. But sometimes…. it’s a bit lonely. Of course, at home with his 3 brothers, he is the happiest he could be. He loves them dearly. But they have their own lives, their own friends, and their own experiences. So every morning when his younger brothers head off to school, the house seems emptier. His heart feels emptier.

Maybe all he needed was a friend. Someone to talk to. To spend his time with. But no one approaches him on campus or at the park. Is it the way he dresses? The way he carries himself?

Sure he's been approached several times by some females. But the way they look at him, like some eye candy, always makes him feel anxious. He doesn't like being looked at, like a prize to be won. His heart starts racing, his hands get clammy and his breathing starts growing slightly heavy. Unsure of how to respond, unsure of how to communicate, like the words won't exit his mouth. Why is it so hard for him to say no?

————

He didn’t have the confidence to look at the other skaters in the area. He couldn't look at anyones face, it would make him nervous. Eye contact is the hardest thing, he didn't have the will to hold a stare for more than 10 seconds max. So he just kept his head down. Walking to school, on the train, paying for groceries. Always looking at the concrete floor, counting every pebble he saw along the way. Occasional graffiti on the floor.

To ease his overthinking mind, he always made sure to bring his headphones. Clicking on one of the many playlists he has made over the years on spotify. It didn't take a second thought when he chose to purchase spotify premium, getting rid of those ridiculous ADs that made him jump once or two. Courtesy of his volume being on full blast to get lost in the world of music.

As he listened to the beats of the drums and electric guitar playing, headphones vibrating at the bass, he soon reached the skatepark. Making a beeline towards his usual bench where he sat down his bookbag and made sure to tighten his two spiky hair buns. He took a quick glance around, it was fairly empty today. Only two other skaters present other than himself.

He placed down his skateboard and stretched his legs before he hopped on and warmed up, simply zooming around naturally. Losing himself in the chords and tunes of the songs that followed in and out his ears. For the next hour he did his series of tricks all over the skatepark, and to his surprise he was the last one there. He must've not noticed the other two leaving.

Choso grew a bit tired and checked the time. He should be heading back now, his brothers will come home soon from school and he needs to get started on dinner. Swiftly he grabs his bag, but feels a bit thirsty. With that he reaches at the side pocket and grabs a water bottle. Twisting the cap as he starts sipping the liquid.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a bundle of pink in a building across the street. Thats…. moving? His eyes snapped in that direction towards the other side of the road, out of curiosity. He never noticed before but the building across the street of the skatepark seemed to be a dance studio. Big open window panels, giving a clear view of the inside. A ballet studio more specifically.

That bundle of pink happened to be a group of many ballerinas. He almost choked on his drink when he realized they were waving in his direction. He awkwardly looked around him, to see if anyone else was around. But it was just him. Choso looked over again and saw they kept trying to get his attention. He slowly pointed to himself asking if they were waving at him, and all the ballerinas nodded.

He stood there completely lost, embarrassed and shy on what to do next. He saw them point towards one specific girl in the group of ballerinas. Chosos eyes went to her and she looked to be attempting to hide. She was clearly embarrassed as the other girls laughed and pushed her to the front so she could be seen through the glass.

She looked over at Choso and even from afar, he could see the redness on her cheeks. He could already feel his own cheeks heat up at the sight. She stands out from the rest, despite the fact they were all wearing pink leotards and tutus. He couldn’t see the details due to the physical distance between them but he didn't need to. This girl was pretty. Really pretty.

His daze was broken when he saw what looked to be the dance instructor, walked into the room and started talking. The ballerinas all scurried away back to their spots to resume their dancing.

She stayed though. Her hand slowly moves up as she shyly waves to Choso. His heart raced as his hand moved on his own and slowly waves back. What's with him? He's usually so anxious about interactions with strangers. But the way she looked at him, the way her bun was a bit messy, her small frame and the pink tutu……..

He sees her reaction as he waves back, her cheeks reddening even more as she scurries away when the instructor walked over and teasingly nudged her. The entire room seemed to laugh at her embarrassment, all with good intentions though.

Adorable.

She was adorable.

And he likes it.

Choso was standing in the middle of the empty skatepark, lost in thought until his phone vibrated in his pocket. He sets his water bottle back in the side pouch of his bag and digs in his pocket of his black cargos for his phone. When he examines the screen he sees his little brother Yuji calling him. He quickly picks up without hesitation and immediately hears whining about how hungry Yuji is and wanting to know how long til Choso gets home.

Hearing this, Choso realized he lost track of time. Quickly apologizing to Yuji and telling him that he’ll be home in 15 minutes, then hanging up. Swiftly he plops his skateboard down and gets on it, but before pushing himself to go skating off towards the direction of his home, he takes one last glance at the dance studio across the street.

His eyes scan the group of ballerinas doing pirouettes, looking for that one person. It doesn't take long as she's at the end of the line. Surprisingly her eyes meet his at the same moment and her cheeks redden once again. To his shock, she seemed to be so caught off guard at their little eye contact that she falls out of her pirouette and stumbles to the floor.

It wasn't a hard fall, she quickly stood up and looked ahead the line to see if anyone in her dance class noticed. They didn't seem to. She sighs out of relief and then looks back at Choso. The curves of his lips turn upwards despite his protest and he couldn't help but laugh. He snorts at the scene that just happened, remembering how she fell and quickly got up at the speed of light.

He sees the way her blush intensifies likely out of embarrassment but her lips soon curve upwards as she laughs as well.

Choso couldn't help the smile that goes on his face, it's been a while he's had a good laugh like that. He feels a buzz in his phone yet again, putting all bets it's Yuji spamming his phone on how hungry he is. With that, he waves bye at her. She shyly waves bye to him and he sees the way her soul leaves her body when the dance instructor tapped her shoulder to focus. She quickly apologizes and gets back to it.

He pushes himself to go on his skateboard and it's only when he's about halfway that he realizes he still had that smile on his face.

She was adorable.

————

A week passed by and Choso has been looking forward to skating ever since that day. He would purposefully come around the same time, so he can see her. It seems her dance class is around the same time he arrives at the park anyways. He is embarrassed to admit how many times he fell or tripped because he zoned out watching you dance. Choso was never one to enjoy watching dances, he doesn't ever recall being remotely interested in the matter. But after viewing the way everyone moves in sync with their moves, he couldn't get ballet out of his head. Or maybe it wasn't ballet. But you.

Although you certainly were the clumsy type (which he couldn't get enough of as he chuckled to himself whenever you stumbled on your own two feet) he saw the way you didn't give up. You kept going, picking yourself back up and trying again and again. It was something he liked.

So after occasionally waving to you, when he caught you shyly staring at him. Multiple times by the way. Something came over him. He was never one to initiate conversations. He would much rather be kept in his own personal bubble. But she's different. He wanted to talk to her. To know her. This clumsy ballerina.

He’s had enough of just staring at you from the safety of the park. Choso was never the type to initiate conversation. For some reason today his legs moved on their own. He grabbed his skateboard and proceeded to wait outside the building, knowing your class is about to end soon. He leans against the wall, unconsciously fixing his appearance up. Making sure his spiky hair buns are in place, adjusting his chains on his pants, trying to make sure they’re untangled. Ah shoot, his eyeliner-

Before he could pull out his camera to look, he recognized the females from your class starting to exit the dance studio. Today was the day he decided he'd try to talk to you. He saw the way the other girls gave him encouraging thumbs up. His cheeks flush at the teasing smiles. Was it that obvious?

He took a deep breath and tried hyping himself up, “Alright I got this” he mumbles under his breath.

However, his tough guy act crumbled the moment you stepped outside. As cliche as it was, you were the last to exit. Or maybe it was the other girl's idea and they purposefully planned this. Who knows?

It was the first time he saw her up close. He knew she was on the smaller side as through the windows, he saw she was the shortest one of the class. But compared to his tall size, she was small.

Her eyes glance towards him and he could’ve sworn he heard his heart beating in his ears. She looks completely off guard as she shyly looks at him but doesn't walk away, simply standing there. Choso sees the way her fingers fidget with one another and how she starts biting her inner cheek.

Cute.

"E-excuse me! Uh, you... you got some time?" He said in a soft voice while rubbing his nape. Ah seriously? There goes his cool persona.

“Oh- yes I do… is there something you need?” she says in response as she gives a small gentle smile towards him. It’s his first time hearing her voice and it’s not helping his case. It’s soft like honey, and her smile is so inviting. And he didn't notice before since this is the first time he's up close but….

Dimples. She has dimples.

One of his hands goes in his pocket and he doesn’t know why. Suddenly he’s self conscious and it makes him feel like an idiot. What does he say? He should’ve thought this through, “I-I just…” he gulps “just wanted to say that I’ve been seeing you dance and…. I think you're really good.”

At first he thinks he may have said the wrong thing as he met with silence. But then a brighter and embarrassed smile appeared on her face as her cheeks grew slightly warmer, “oh my god how embarrassing. I'm such a klutz, I'm sure you've seen me fall a few too many times..”

He could already feel himself wanting to laugh. Though he holds it in for her sake. But she seems to notice and gasps. She covers her face embarrassed, “so you have seen!”

Choso couldn't help but burst out laughing and he waves his hand dismissively, “I promise i'm not laughing at you.”

“Yeah right! How lameee” she whines and takes a peek at him through the cracks of her fingers. Her eyes stared at him for a moment as she couldn't help but to giggle alongside him.

As the laughter died down, he hears her speak. “....What's your name?” she says looking into his eyes.

“....Choso” he says suddenly feeling all shy as he remembers what he came here for. He offers his hand to her, “And what's yours?”

“Y/N” she says as her hand slowly takes his and shakes it.

Her hand is smaller compared to his. He has scars all over, proof of his skateboarding hobby and the practices he does constantly. His hand was cold to the touch just as it's always been. While hers is free of any, soft as silk and so so warm.

He wants to continue holding it but he slowly lets go, “Do you live far from here?” he says to her trying to distract the sudden heat in his hand. The memory of her touch.

“Oh like 5 minutes going straight down from here, I usually walk” she says as her hand holds her other hand, like she's also suffering from the lack of physical contact.

“Well I live that way too…” he gets an idea and smiles at her “Ever ridden a skateboard?” he says as he plops his skateboard on the ground.

“Ah I haven’t, I'm too much of a klutz that my parents never even allowed me to get on one when I was younger” she says looking down at his skateboard with awe.

He smiles and gets on it, he looks down at her and offers his hand, “then today is gonna be your first day”. He didn't know where this sudden confidence came from. He struggled talking to new people, yet he's oddly comfortable around her. Maybe she's what he needed all along.

She hesitates but slowly takes his hand. Getting on the skateboard very slow, but when it wobbles a little she gasps and quickly clings to him. His cheeks flush but he says nothing, he wraps one arm around her waist. Making sure to not touch her with his palm and just support her with his tricep, “You can wrap your arms around me if you want, I'm gonna start us off slow now. Just tell me when we reach your house.”

She nods and slowly wraps her arms around his waist as they slowly skate off. She tenses at first but then opens her eyes. Feeling the breeze hit her face, the sun setting in the horizon, as they zoomed past other civilians. It was insane on how she missed out on this experience her whole life, a bright smile on her face as she looks up at him.

“Can we do this again?” she says with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“Mhm any time you’d like” he says looking down at her, secretly admiring her face and those dimples.

————

He was alone all the time. Though he didn’t mind that. Or so he thought.

Choso didn’t know how he lived a life without Y/N. He wasn’t alone anymore. Their relationship only blossomed from that first day he dropped her off home. He understood the importance of laughter. And he couldn't and will never go back. She makes him happy. So whenever he finishes his skate practice, he waits for her outside the dance studio. Everyday. As they skate off holding one another.

They are from completely different worlds. The sun and moon. The Emo Skater and the Clumsy Ballerina.

73 notes · View notes

nightghoul381 · 3 days

Text

Smile for Me ~ Elbert Greetia (POV) x Reader

Entry number 6 in @judejazza's An Invitation to Crown Castle event!

Pairing: Elbert Greetia (POV) x Reader Prompt: Linked Fingers Genre: Hurt/Comfort-y fluff CW: None- Elbie's just a bit of a disaster WC: 1.6k

I wish to do something for you, so that I can see your beautiful smile again. The days have been so gloomy and grey the past weeks I feel as though your smile, too, has hidden behind the clouds.

I’ve done my best to give you beautiful things, and yet none of them seems to be able to keep the smile on your face for more than a fraction of a second. I feel darkness inside when your face is so unnaturally demure.

“I don’t know what to do, Al,” I sigh, staring out my window to where you sit in the garden gazebo, only slightly sheltered from the spattering of rain falling around you. Your eyes are fixated on the sky, a forlorn expression clouding your face and I can only imagine the same is mirrored on mine.

“Haha, you’re quite smitten with her aren’t you? Have you told her that? Have you made her feel the depth of your love?”

“I believe so. I’ve given her several gowns and jewelry to match, yet she still looks so sad. Perhaps they are not beautiful enough…”

I feel Al’s presence move directly behind me, joining me to stare out the window and watch you lament outside.

“Oh dear, she does look troubled, doesn’t she? I wonder, what time have you spent together lately, just the two of you?” Al remarks, his gloved hands flashing two fingers in front of me.

I search my memory but seem to come up short. I’ve run into you a few times and those are the times I’ve given you your gifts, but those moments had been unmistakably brief, with you running off to your room to stow away your present and I to mine as the weather had me feeling particularly tired.

I let out a deep sigh, pressing my hand against the cold glass, wishing to draw your attention to me, yet too unsure of myself to do so.

“Perhaps she’s grown tired of me?” I muse. Surely it must be exhausting having to tolerate my eccentricities. Is this possibly why you’ve not tried on your dresses for me? You may be trying to indicate that you no longer wish for me to see you dressed so beautifully. Perhaps you’re afraid of me again. I don’t mean to hurt you, but the greed in my heart is vicious and unrelenting.

“Elbert, go speak with her. I’ve not a doubt in my mind she merely wishes to be in your presence,” Alfons mutters, a pitying smirk fixed in my direction.

“It’s raining.”

“It’s been raining for several days. That hasn’t stopped you from going out to purchase things, so should you really let something so benign prevent you from going to your lover?”

“If I catch a cold, she’ll be upset with me. Could you have her come inside to see me?” I asked, withdrawing my hand from the window as a chill rushes through my body.

“This is a matter between lovers, I’m not about to jump in the middle of it. Unless you’re inviting me for some fun after reconciling, that is,” Alfons winks and strides out of the room with a jovial laugh.

A fierce sense of possessiveness wells up within me, and I have to fight down the urge to keep you locked in my room, away from the prying eyes of others. Your beautiful smile belongs to me, your debauched expression belongs to me, all of you is mine. You’ve said as much before.

I move to my wardrobe and pull a thick coat and a hooded cloak out to wear.

Silently, I make my way through the gentle rain, coming up beside you and clearing my throat.

“Elbert!” You squeak, whirling in my direction.

“You looked sad,” I state, fixing my eyes on your damp hair. “And you’ll catch a cold.”

“I’ll be fine. You can head back inside if you’d like. I’ll be in after a few more minutes.”

Your expression seems darker again and my heart twists. What can I do to draw your smile out again? The darkness doesn’t suit you.

I find my body moving of its own accord, my long fingers twining with yours and holding fast.

“Your hands are cold,” I mutter, lifting them to my lips and pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles.

“I…” your voice cuts off briefly as I allow my kisses to travel up your arm.

“Your arms are cold too.”

I let my gaze meet with yours and the faint dusting of pink on your cheeks seems to cause my heart to begin beating again. Still holding your fingers, I tug you gently closer, staring down into your dazed expression before sealing my lips over yours. The kiss is quick and soft, but it’s enough to make me feel more alive than I’ve felt in days.

“Your lips are cold.”

Your tongue darts out subconsciously, swiping at your lower lip as you stare up at me.

“Can you warm them up?”

It’s not often I feel the primal need to claim you, to seal my need for you so passionately, lest you forget who you belong to. Yet when you look at me with those desperate eyes, and ask such things of me, I’m afraid I lose myself to those feelings.

I squeeze my fingers around yours more tightly, refusing to let go as our lips dance together, sucking and nipping at one another as if we’re vying for control, to devour one another.

I can feel my blood racing through my veins as you pull away just briefly, just enough to speak.

“I think… I think I’d like to go inside now…” You whisper, breathing uneven and ragged.

I still haven’t seen your smile. You may very well be through with me, and yet your fingers still remain linked with mine as you tug me back toward the castle. Our hands never separate as we hurry through the halls and to your room.

At the closed door, I feel you pull away and an unknown fear grips me. I wrap my arms around you, holding your rain-soaked body close.

“El… I need to open the door, then we can be as close as you wish.”

Was that a chuckle? I glance down and see a shy smirk tugging at the corners of your lips and feel the blackness settled in my heart begin to dissipate.

I allow you to be free from my grasp for just long enough to open the door, after which I bundle you inside, closing the door and flicking the lock to ensure our privacy.

I stare at your face with a serious expression.

“Will you smile again?” I plead, tracing your lips with my thumb.

You seem surprised by my question, a slight frown creasing your brow for a moment. “Of course, I’ll smile again… Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

I press a kiss to your lips briefly, resting my forehead against yours.

“You’ve not smiled in such a long time. Not truly. I tried to make you smile with the beautiful things but the smile faded so quickly,” I admit, a tightness in my chest constricting at the confession.

“You bought them to make me smile?” You ask incredulously.

“Is that so surprising?”

“I thought you were giving them to me because they were no longer beautiful to you, I had no idea you’d been trying to make me smile!”

You blush a bright red, as you lift your hands to cover your face.

“Please don’t hide your face from me,” I beg, my lips beginning to tremble.

Your shoulders shake and I step back in shock. I hadn’t meant to make you cry…

“Shall I leave?” I whisper.

Your shaking seems to intensify as laughter spills out of your hands.

Laughing…?

“Have I said something funny?” I ask, slipping my fingers between yours to pull them away from your face.

Your eyes are clenched shut but your mouth is unmistakably shining with happiness. When you finally open your eyes, you leap up, wrapping your arms around my neck and pulling me into a deep kiss.

I’m afraid I’m unsure of what to do with myself, my heart feels as though it may burst with how quickly my emotions have been changing.

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding, I truly thought that you have been too busy for me, and with the weather as it’s been, I’ve been feeling very lonely.”

“Lonely?”

“I just want to spend time with you. I don’t need beautiful things to make me happy. The loveliest thing I can think of would be time I get to spend with you. So please, don’t leave.”

Your grin is vibrant, seeming to light up the room and restore color to an otherwise grey surrounding. Perhaps this darkness I’ve been feeling… has it also been lonliness?

I think on this for a moment before I feel your hands slide down my arms, twining with mine and pulling me toward the settee before a warmly lit fire.

“Let’s stay together and warm up. Please?” You ask, sliding onto one of the cushions and looking up at me with pleading eyes. Beautiful pleading eyes.

“Smile for me?” I whisper, watching with bated breath. “If I stay will you smile for me?”

Your face cracks into a huge grin and another burst of laughter bubbles up from your chest.

“Of course I’ll smile for you! Spending time with you makes me want to smile.”

That was all? Spending time with me was all it took to make you smile? I feel embarrassed for not having realized such a thing sooner, my face growing hot as I settle onto the cushion beside you.

“All I need to do to see your smile is spend time with you?” I murmur, still mildly in disbelief.

“Yes, Elbert. Being with you makes me so happy, I can’t help but smile.”

My own lips curl up into a pleased smile of my own, warmth filling me with a sense of peace I’ve been craving.

“Then I shall never leave you.”

Taglist: @judejazza @natimiles @aquagirl1978 @candied-boys @themiscarnival

Let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list!

#invitation2crowncc #ikevil #ikemen villains #ikevil elbert #ikemen villains elbert #elbert greetia #ikevil elbert greetia #ikevil fanfic #elbert greetia fanfic

76 notes · View notes

fonksfvcks · 3 days

Note

what d u think idia's aftercare is like? (to an afab)

-idia simp anon (i love your insights sm)

if he does research and knows what aftercare is like then i'm sure he'd do anything to help you come down, but if not, then i imagine it's a little minimal?

he knows to clean up the mess.

he knows to try and hug you (as much as he doesn't like physical touch, he tries his absolute best to make you feel whole with his hugs)

he knows he should praise you, but i think he's very nervous when it comes to that, and you'll end up having to console him later about it because he'll feel guilty for not caring for you to the best of his ability and will probably apologize or cry a couple days later because all he does is think about it.

he'll ask if you need a morning after pill and probably orders one online or has someone pick it up for him so that he doesn't have to face anyone. he knows he did the deed with you and he's embarrassed enough, he doesn't want people looking at him like that.

people say that idia has snacks on hand and probably knows good ones, but that's not lore accurate. idia actually hates eating to a certain degree, and usually eats very easily prepared food (cup noodles, instant stuff), or things out of cans/prepackaged. he thinks it is a waste of time and doesn't enjoy it, so i think he wouldn't really know to give you food and water, as (this is just a headcanon) i imagine he probably drinks a lot of his nutrients via. vitamin water, infused teas, etc. people also say that idia probably drinks energy drinks but as someone with severe anxiety i think he lays off them because they make him think more. his anxiety and love for games and tech keeps him up enough, i don't think he actually needs an energy drink to do the work for his already overactive mind.

back to aftercare, he would let you hold one of his plushies if it helps. mans probably has a bunch of plushies of his favorite bands or characters. if you need a distraction or something, he'll put on a movie and tell you all the lore he knows, or show you music he likes. he'd probably be the type to curate an after-sex playlist so you can be calm but also listen to things he likes and therefore, he can share an interest with you.

to summarize, idia doesn't know a lot about it, but the things he does know, he tries his very best to do. you'll have to guide him and be patient with him, but he'll probably also take initiative and do research if you make it clear you're interested in him and would do it again with him sometime.

#idia simp anon :3 #idia x reader #twst smut #idia shroud smut #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader

53 notes · View notes

katnissdoesnotfollowback · 1 day

Note

i loved reading 9000 rpm and i love the ending you gave them, but i really wanted to read their second time/reunion in more detail. any chance we could get that from peeta's pov?

The following is RATED E for explicit sexual content and explicit language.

***

Peeta waits at a redlight, his heart accelerating the closer he gets to Katniss’s house. He grips the steering wheel and doesn’t even try to stop them this time. The memories that fly at him, of Katniss on top of him, surrounding him. Her wet clothes still clinging to her skin in places, her exhales on his face as warm and humid as the night around them. Her lips kiss swollen and parted as she moved. Bucking on him and driving him to the brink until she’d leaned back too far and they’d accidentally honked the horn.

He knows it won’t be like that. They’re not sixteen anymore. They’re parents. And even though Katniss was his first on that sweltering, rain drenched summer night, she hasn’t been his only. He knows better than to believe that what he felt that night could happen again. And yet, his hands still shake slightly with the nerves of a boy approaching his first love.

Glancing over at the passenger seat, he smiles, and soft warmth flows through him along with the jittery nerves, thinking about the way she kissed him just a few hours ago. The way she so unwittingly handed him back a burning torch of hope.

Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing, he thinks as the light turns green and he drives the last mile. He guides his truck down Katniss’s driveway, not knowing what to expect. It’s late and she may have already gone to bed. He probably should have called first, but he has keys to her garage. If she’s already asleep, he’ll just work on the Mustang until he can get his hopes under control. That won’t be anything new.

Only, there are lights still on inside the house. Several windows glow with their warmth. And as he puts the truck in park, someone steps out of the front door onto the porch.

Peeta forces himself to grab her shawl from the seat beside him and not think about how good and how right it felt to have her in his arms again tonight. To have her lips not only moving with his but so eagerly returning his own pent up need and desire through their kisses.

She’s leaning against the post at the top of the porch stairs as he climbs them. He notices that she’s changed into pajama pants and a loose, comfortable top. He can tell from the soft wispy flyaways from her braid that catch the wind that she’s showered and washed her hair. Did she want to wash his touch off of her skin? Or was it just a regular shower at the end of a long day? She’s wearing an inscrutable look on her face, but he’s gotten used to that. The trick is to get her talking. Then he’ll be able to figure out what’s on her mind.

But she’s already on the porch. Without him giving her warning. Which means she was awake. Maybe waiting for him to call or show up here. She heard or saw him pull up. Which means at the very least, she isn’t pushing him away just yet.

As if in a trance, he holds up her shawl and something flickers in her gaze as she reaches for it. Trying to tease that look into words, Peeta yanks his hand back, denying her the shawl and smiling at the faint annoyance in her expression. Arms crossed, eyebrow quirked up.

“You never answered my question,” she says and his heart thuds with a kick of more hope. So they won’t be ignoring or avoiding what happened.

Buoyed with new confidence, Peeta drapes her shawl around her shoulders and pulls her up against his body. A thrill going through him as she lets him. As she falls against his chest, tilting her head up to look at him. Her hands clenching into his shirt. It’s like something out of his dreams and his breath seizes in his chest as he tries to cool it. To not let his hopes run too far ahead of him.

“What do I want next?” He repeats her question and she nods, humming in assent, and for half a second, he thinks she’s looking at his mouth.

But as desperately as Peeta wants to kiss her again, he wants her to know, more than anything, he wants her to know all the wild, the sappy, the pathetically in love thoughts he’s buried beneath concrete walls and scorched rubber, running away from his own feelings as though it’d get him anywhere. Like he wasn’t stuck on a race track, burning himself in circles trying not to love her.

But with that quick little glance at his mouth and the way her eyes gleam when she looks up at his eyes, the words burst free in a torrent he has no hope of controlling anymore. Not after the way she kissed him tonight.

“I want to wake in the morning tomorrow, roll over, and kiss you awake,” he says and he can hear it when her breath catches. That little sound may be an invitation or a warning, but he still can’t stop the words.

“I want to see Raven run into the kitchen, excited to begin the day and wondering what’s for breakfast. I want to be here when she catches the bus and wave to her from the end of the driveway. Blow her kisses so she knows how much I love her before she goes to school. I want to hold you in the rain, the sunshine, through every season and every step of our lives. I want to whisper in your ear how radiant you are and how you make air scarce every time you smile at me or laugh. I want to kiss you, love you, fall asleep beside you every night. I want to have silly fights with you, over what movie we’re going to watch and then spend the night making you moan my name to the sky instead when we can’t agree. I want to build that car in the garage with you and our daughter, then make love to you on the finished hood late one night. I want to watch Raven grow and blossom and fight for what she wants. I want a chance to hold a newborn baby with your eyes, to be there for every step of that journey, but I understand if you don’t want that. Raven is more than enough. I want to wake up one morning and realize we’ve grown old together, with a fridge covered in art and pictures. So many that we have to start covering the dishwasher or the walls. I want the muck and the grime of life but also the starlight and the dreams, and I want it all with you, Katniss.”

She might as well know it all and if she can’t handle it, if it breaks them and tears them apart for good, he’ll just have to find a way to put himself back together later. She blinks at him once, slowly. And he’s just happy that she hasn’t shoved him backwards down the stairs, when she speaks.

“Is that all?” Her words are soft, quiet, but the smile curling over her lips sends Peeta’s heart thumping madly.

“I figure it’s a start.”

“Well then. Come inside and we’ll get started.”

She steps backwards, her hands in his shirt and his hands still clenching the shawl around her shoulders mean that he has to step with her. He gives her a quiet warning when they reach the door, so she doesn’t trip, but Katniss just leans back against it and it falls open for them.

Once he’s across the threshold, he doesn’t want to let go of her. He’s terrified that the second he drops the shawl, she’s going to come to her senses and push him away again.

Katniss must sense this, or she’s too impatient to wait on him to figure it out, because she leans into him, reaching behind him to fling the door shut. They both wince at the sound and Peeta glances over her shoulder, checking to see who else might be awake.

“Is Raven…?”

“Fast asleep,” Katniss murmurs. “So is Aunt Laverne. It’s just us right now.”

He turns back to her, leaning forward until his nose brushes hers, letting her sultry tone wash over him. Following her step by step. He assumes they’ll be stopping at the couch. Sitting and talking. Maybe kissing and making out, but Katniss keeps going.

In the hallway, he twists his wrists, wrapping more of the shawl around his fists as her hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders. Her fingers toy with his hair and he shivers slightly, watching her through his half closed eyes for any signs of reluctance or doubt.

But Katniss keeps walking them deeper into the house. He can feel her breaths picking up speed as they tease over his parted lips. He wants to drink her down, to live on her exhales as he waits for her to whisper his name or say something, anything, to confirm that she’s already as deep into this as he is. That he’s not dreaming and about to be rudely awakened, alone in his bed and reaching for her where she never is, never has been, and never will be.

He follows her across the threshold of her bedroom and swallows, letting his eyes close and expecting the alarm to go off or his body to yank him out of this dream. He pulls on the shawl as he hears the door close behind him. Her weight falls into him and he feels her standing on her toes, her lips brushing his.

If he’s dreaming, he decides, then he’s going to wring every possible drop of joy from this dream. He opens his eyes to gaze down at her, at the soft way she’s looking up at him. It’s not quite the way she looked at him that night all those years ago, when they were sixteen and a solid finish, some starlight and rain combined to make magic out of the air. No, this look is different. Deeper, somehow. So profound that it pulls him towards her.

Peeta wants to ask her if he’s dreaming or if this is real. Instead, he closes the remaining distance between them. She whimpers slightly and plasters herself to his body. And her mouth. The lips and mouth that sass him over the radio or over the open hood of a car work just as hard now to destroy every last chance he had of keeping his hopes in check. Because she kisses him back, with the same fervor she showed in the garage earlier tonight. Perhaps even more.

It’s too much for him to handle, so he diverts his mouth to kiss over her cheek, to her ear as she leans into him even more and sighs his name.

“Peeta.” The sound of it nearly breaks him as he considers hoisting her into the air and throwing her on the bed.

But no. He’s waited too long to rush this. Instead, he continues to kiss along the side of her neck, inhaling the fresh scent of her soap on her skin and savoring the taste of her. The breathy way she moans and whispers his name. Allows himself to fall headlong into the feel of her pulling on his hair and writhing in his arms.

“Please. Please,” she whimpers and then they’re moving again. Her feet guide them towards the bed. His heart thuds and his already half hard cock throbs to life.

“Katniss, wait,” he murmurs and tries to pull back, scared that if they move too fast, they’ll only ruin this. Certain he’s right when Katniss steps out of his embrace and the shawl finally falls to the floor.

His hands hover in the air and he watches her as she pulls her shoulders back, lifts her chin. “Wait? Wait for what? I’ve waited too long already.”

And with that hanging in the air between them, she pulls her top up and over her head, discarding it on the floor with the shawl. He’s struck dumb with her beauty, just for a moment. Until she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, snapping him out of it.

“Wait,” he says again, stepping towards her and skimming his hands over her exposed skin, her belly now softer, perhaps a remnant of carrying Raven. Her shoulders, which he’s seen before of course, but in this new light, with this new freedom to touch her, he leans forwards and kisses along their ridge. Until she shivers and whispers his name again.

“Wait for me to do that,” he tells her and skims his hands up her back to her bra, even as he bends his head to kiss her again.

As soon as her bra hits the floor, Katniss starts grappling with his shirt and he smiles as they tear it up his torso and he lifts his arms. They laugh when their movements make him elbow his own ear. They’re still smiling as Katniss steps back, her hands roaming over his naked chest and her eyes fixed on where she’s touching. He takes the chance to steal glimpses of her naked breasts. But even that can’t distract him from the shivers and erotic thrill of having her hands all over him. Then her mouth as she maps his chest with kisses. He lets his head fall back then and tangles his hand in her hair, massaging the back of her scalp as she lays waste to the last of his defenses.

Her warm lips pressing kisses to his skin. Her nails scratching at his chest hair. Her tongue darting out to taste his nipples. He takes every second of delicious torment, all the while his desire, his need for her mounting higher, until he’s straining painfully against the constriction of his jeans.

“Katniss, fuck,” he murmurs and curses when she takes a nip at him and lifts questioning eyes to his. He pulls her up and against his chest, grinning when she shivers in his arms and rubs herself on his chest. “You like that?”

“Maybe. Why?” she says and he traces his thumb slowly over her lower lip.

“Because if you don’t tell me, I’m going to find out anyway. I’ll find every little thing that turns you on or drives you crazy. Give me the chance, Katniss, and I will make you sing with pleasure until you’re hoarse.”

With a full body shudder, she leans into him and grins, mischief blinking in her eyes. “Not if I’m busy learning every little thing that turns you on and driving you crazy with need.”

Her hand slips down his body and cups him through his jeans. She gasps comically and smiles when he bucks into her touch. When his grip on her tightens, limiting her movement.

“Are you seriously gonna make this a competition?” he teases. She bites her lip and shakes her head.

“Not a competition. A shared goal. We’re still a team, after all,” she says, right before their lips meld together again. Her hand on his neck and the one on his cock scrambles his thoughts, all he can do is follow her. Follow her lead as she takes a few more steps backwards and then turns them so that Peeta’s the one backing up. He lets her lead, sinking into her touch on him. He’s so absorbed with their kisses, with the feel of her heated naked skin pressed so intimately to his, that he’s unaware of almost everything else until something presses into the backs of his knees and he crumples.

Katniss follows him, straddling him where he sits on the end of the bed, her fingers tangling in his hair and tugging while they keep kissing, exhaling soft whispers into one another’s mouths, touching everywhere and anywhere they can reach. He slides one hand down into the back of her pants and grips her ass enough to pull her tight against his erection. He smiles against her lips at the little squeal in the back of her throat that causes.

“Alright, then. A shared goal,” he murmurs to her as she starts grinding on him. Her eyes flutter and she moans into his mouth. “Like this. You like this. Feeling me hard up against your lips, knowing you do this to me.”

“Peeta,” she gasps, but he doesn’t stop. “You… you like this too.”

“Damn right I do. Would you like to know how many times I’ve dreamt of us like this? How many times I stroked my cock thinking about you warm and writhing in my lap, looking at me exactly like you’re looking at me now.”

His words spark something in her and she twists out of his grasp, not entirely, just enough to kiss down his chest, towards his waist. To push his thighs wider and kneel between them. When she nips at his side, he flinches and leans back, curious how far she’s willing to take things tonight. He bites back a groan as her fingers work his belt loose and then his jeans open. She flicks a burning gaze up at him then and smirks.

“These come off now,” she says and Peeta obediently leans back on his palms, lifts his hips, watches her drag his clothes down his legs. Watches her eyes following the bob and sway of his cock as it lurches free of the removed clothing.

In his dreams, she’s always a little cock shy. He supposes that’s a hold over from when they were sixteen and she hesitated before touching him. Before taking him inside her. But Katniss now is riveted to the sight of him, even as she tugs off his boots and flings aside the mess of his jeans, shorts, boots, and one of his socks. Before he can tease her for her eagerness, she boldly wraps her fingers around his tip and swipes her thumb across the head. He has to bite his lip to contain a loud groan.

And that’s before she lowers her head and swipes her tongue in her thumb’s wake.

“Shit. Katniss,” he warns, his hands fisting the coverlet as she kisses and licks her way down one side of his shaft then up the other.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this,” she teases and he laughs slightly.

“Of course I have. I just wasn’t expecting this tonight.”

“What were you expecting then?”

“Honestly? Some cuddling on the couch. More kissing. Maybe a little under the shirt groping. And the serious need to jerk off in the shower later.”

“So I should back up and—“

“Don’t you dare,” he blurts out and Katniss grins at him. Right before she starts gliding her hand loosely up and down his shaft. The pressure of her touch just enough to make his brain fuzz over with pleasure, but not enough to get him started toward release.

“Why not? Do you like this, Peeta?”

He releases a heavy breath as she presses another almost sweet kiss to his head. His fingers ache from gripping the sheets and he nods dumbly. “Yes. I like it way too much. Your touch on me is…so fucking good, Katniss.”

“Show me then,” she says and rises up on her feet until she can kiss him full on the mouth again, her hand on his cock still lightly stroking him. “Show me how to do this for you.”

For half a second, jealousy streaks through him. The words burn on his tongue, wanting to tell her that whatever she’s done to suck off Gale or Thom will probably work on him too. But that isn’t fair. He knows it isn’t fair. Besides, he doesn’t know for sure that she’s ever sucked their cocks. That’s the root of it, isn’t it? he thinks. He has no idea and it’s always driven him half mad, thinking of her with them.

But another memory rises up to help him swallow and dismiss the burst of jealousy. Audrey on her knees, pushing him up against her front door, working his cock with her hands and her mouth, leaving a ring of bright red lipstick on his cock before he left her to go to work with Katniss one day.

Peeta has no room to complain, he knows. So he lets it take wing and fly from his heart as he caresses Katniss’s cheek. What’s important is that they’re together, here and now, he thinks as he caresses back to the nape of her neck. He grabs hold of her braid and twists once, so her hair is wrapped tight around his fist.

“Kiss the tip again, please,” he says, his voice gruff and foreign to his ears, but Katniss’s eyes brighten and she smiles slightly before dropping to her knees again and lowering her head.

He groans and forces himself to keep his eyes open. To watch her even as the tendrils of pleasure start to burn through him at the feel of her lips pressing another delicate kiss to his tip before her tongue swirls around his head.

“Oh god,” he groans, trying to keep it quiet. His grip on her braid tightens and she tilts her head to look up at him for just a moment.

“Oh yeah, you like this a lot, don’t you?” She teases before she slides her lips down and over him, encasing about a quarter of his cock in her mouth. And it takes everything in him not to push himself further into the deliriously warm wetness of her mouth when she starts to suck.

“Oh fuck me. Katniss. Yes. Just… just like that.”

The next sounds he makes are garbled and unintelligible as she sucks on him and her fist wrapped around his base keeps stroking at a maddeningly steady pace. He can’t see her mouth on him at this angle, only her dark hair wrapped around his fist, his fingers clinging to the back of her head as she bobs and sucks at him. But even that is enough to blow all his long held fantasies out of the water.

And he can’t help it. He lifts his hips into her, pushes slightly, desperate to have more of his cock in her mouth. She takes it, moaning softly and only driving him closer to breaking.

“Ung, Katniss. Please,” he gasps. “Do that again. Moan like that again.”

He curses when she does, gripping tight to her scalp, his body shaking with the need to snap, to fuck her mouth until he comes down her throat. Only a thin thread of control holds him in check enough to pull her off his cock instead. Up towards his mouth until he can kiss her lips. Their tongues tangle wildly and she places a hand flat on his chest, pushing him back and ending the kiss before he’s ready for it to be over.

“Stop it. I’m busy sucking your cock here. Or hadn’t you noticed?” She says with a saucy lilt to her voice.

Where, he wonders, has this side of her been all these years? Another kick of jealousy hits him as he realizes she’s probably been like this the whole time. Just not with him. He’s choking on that jealousy, trying to swallow it down when her smile cracks slightly.

“Unless… you don’t like what I’m doing?”

“Don’t… of course I fucking like it, Katniss,” he says and motions towards his lap. His dick cooperates and lurches in anticipation of her mouth on him again. “You have no idea how much I’m holding back right now.”

“But… you’ve been with women who can probably do this better. Who’ve had more practice than I have.” His pulse skips at that. At her words implying she actually hasn’t gone down on Thom or Gale enough to feel confident in this. He reaches for her with his free hand and traces her lips.

“Doesn’t matter. They weren’t you.” He whispers. “Even when I thought I was in love with someone else, you’ve always been there. In the back of my head. Unshakeable. And I am incredibly aroused by everything you are, everything you’ve done tonight. You could stop right now and this is still the best head anyone’s ever given me.”

She snorts at that, shaking her head slightly before lurching up to kiss him once. “Alright. In that case. Don’t come yet.”

“Huh?” he asks, dumbstruck as she pushes him back so he has to release her, to use his left hand to hold himself up as she descends once again. And despite the pause, bliss surges right back up to where it was before he made her stop. Overwhelming enough to turn him into a babbling idiot, he thinks but can’t stop himself.

“Ung. Don’t stop. Just… please. Feels so fucking good. Katniss. Your mouth is like heaven.”

She giggles around his cock and the vibrations only make him grasp tighter to her braid. They work together, his hand and his words guiding her. Until he can’t do much more than grunt and moan and gasp out her name.

“Fuck. Almost. Katniss. Please?” he begs and then whines when she not only slides her mouth off his cock, but stands up. A tug on his wrist and he releases her hair as she steps back, out of his reach.

Aching and throbbing with need, Peeta curls his freed up hand around himself. The touch does little to alleviate the pain of his denied orgasm. Especially when his grip and his jaw go comically slack as Katniss shimmies out of the rest of her clothes. All he can do is stare at her, frantically memorizing every line, every shadow on her skin, the way her dusky nipples stand erect and her dark curls spiral at the apex of her thighs.

Those curls at least are almost exactly as Peeta remembers them, but the rest of her torches his adolescent memories to the ground. Her hands graze her hips and she bites her lip as they watch one another. She breaks first.

“Oh come on,” she grumbles. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me before.”

“I’m not sure that I have,” he admits. “Not really.”

Katniss tilts her head and takes a deep breath that leads nowhere for a moment. Until she whispers one word. “And?”

Releasing a heavy breath, Peeta reaches for her. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

She laughs lightly at that, but places her hand in his. They’re both smiling as he pulls her onto his lap. As she reaches down between them and guides him straight to her center.

“What? No more foreplay?” he groans as she sinks onto him and Katniss leans forward to get the angle right, then back, taking more of him and kissing the words he’d planned right off his lips.

“I’m done playing around, Peeta,” she whispers, her voice a little strained. “Done with running and hiding. No more games. No more PR stunt fake relationships. I just want you. Ung.”

“Are you okay?” he whispers back as she comes to rest, her face a little pinched as she stops, fully seated on him. Her thighs pressed to his and her hands hooking over Peeta’s shoulders. Her fingers toy with his hair. And she leans forward, until their foreheads touch. But she’s releasing fast, shaky breaths onto his lips.

“I’d forgotten,” she says softly and takes a few steadying breaths. “Forgotten how full I felt with you inside me. It’s… no one else makes me feel like you do, Peeta.”

“How do I make you feel?” he murmurs.

Then her hips start to move in earnest. He grips her ass and helps her move with him, holding his gaze intent on her face, waiting for an answer and desperately trying not to succumb to the overwhelming pleasure of their joined bodies and movements. To the temptation of her head thrown back and her arching back, her breasts pushed up and exposed for him to just bend over and ravage.

“Katniss, honey girl, tell me how I make you feel,” he practically begs and she moans before whipping her head back up and gripping his hair, not breaking her stride or slowing down. No, she speeds up, and Peeta can feel himself racing towards the end. He bites the inside of his cheek as she touches his lips almost reverently.

“Like we were made for each other,” she gasps. Her words tumble out in bursts as she moves her hips faster and harder against him. “I need… I need… need… you... Oh Peeta.”

Her moans have gotten louder. Dangerously loud. Their movements now frantic. He fights back the burning need inside him and reaches up to cover her mouth with his hand.

“Shhh, Katniss you can’t be that loud,” he whispers and she whines, her lips sliding under his palm until his fingers slip inside her mouth. Her lips close around his fingers and she sucks, sending fiery bolts up his arm, straight to his groin. “Fucking… Katniss, stop. Don’t do that or I’m gonna come right the fuck now.”

Her eyes gleam and she slows her motions until she’s just sitting on his lap. He curses again as she sucks on his fingers at the same time she squeezes her walls around his cock.

He grips her braid with his other hand and pulls until his fingers pop free of her mouth.

“You fucking tease. Finish it,” he growls and shifts his hips, just enough to push a squealing soft moan from her throat. But he gets what he wants. Katniss starts moving again.

Flattening her palms on his shoulders, she shoves him, flat onto his back on the bed. Her thrusts turn almost desperately fast and her eyes glassy as he touches her. Caresses her softly all over. The headboard starts rapping against the wall and Peeta begs her, breathless and needy as the edge looms up in front of him.

“No more games, you said,” he whispers. “Make us come, Katniss. Please. Please make us both come.”

She whimpers something like his name and he smiles, relaxing as he feels the first tremors of her release grasping at his cock. Her entire body thrashes on top of his and the sight of her caught in her orgasm, the feel of her body now gripping him tight, rapid and desperate, sends him toppling over right along with her. He sighs out her name and lets bliss carry him floating along for the ride. Shuddering as he empties himself into her.

At last.

“Don’t stop. Don’t. Please. Peeta,” she whines and somehow, addlebrained from his own release, he responds. He digs his fingers into her hips and keeps her body moving on his. Through a few more spine tingling contractions of her pussy on him.

“Take it, Katniss. Take what you want. Keep coming, honey girl. I’m gonna make sure you never again forget how this feels.”

She sounds almost like she’s in pain, her nails raking down his chest and clawing into his abdomen until…

“Oh fuck, yes,” she groans, swaying like she’s drunk before collapsing on top of him.

Wrapping his arms around her, Peeta holds her, pressing soft kisses to her crown and temple, nevermind the perspiration coating them both, as she continues to tremble. Her hands clench and unclench on his chest, tugging randomly at his chest hair. But the short bursts of pain are worth it. Worth this chance to hold her in the aftermath and hope, really hope for the first time in years, that maybe this could be something extraordinary. That perhaps it already is.

He’s still inside her as they catch their breath, and Peeta caresses over her spine, enjoying the way she shivers and hums with content every so often. Although he’s quickly going soft and will probably slip free soon. Which has him thinking about her labia, all swollen and wet from their sex, and his cum seeping slowly back out.

Peeta licks his lips just thinking about her. Remembering her taste from when they were sixteen and wondering if she still tastes the same, or if she’ll taste different. He wants to know. Needs to know.

He considers rolling her onto her back and kneeling between her thighs, spreading her lips and waiting for the first sign of his cum dripping from her before feasting on her, hopefully making her orgasm again. But Katniss lifts her head then and props her elbow on his chest to hold her head up.

“So. I think that was a good start. You?” And then she yawns, her mouth wide and the sound adorably high pitched. He grins and pulls her down for a searing kiss as soon as she’s done yawning.

“A very good start,” he murmurs, setting aside his dirty fantasy in favor of simply holding her for now. He’s been patient this long, he decides. There’s no reason to believe that he needs to rush things or try to cram everything he’s been wanting with her into a few days.

They have time now, he realizes as she shifts on top of him and whispers an invitation. “Stay? Peeta, stay with me tonight?”

#words are peetas thing not mine #smut happens #ten years of fanfiction mania #9000 rpm #9000 rpm nonsense

32 notes · View notes

joenhead · 1 day

Text

I tend to think a lot about Sol as a character - sorry guys Caldwells cartoonish bugs bunny daffy duck charms are my favorite so I knew I was going to love Sol the moment I met him - so Sol often occupies my mind.

I love ducklycule because of just how obvious it is that they care so much about each other. They aren’t complete unless all three of them are together. Sol and Calder defend Callie all the time, try to cheer her up. Calder would do anything for Callie and Sol, he sacrificed himself so that they would be safe. Sol and Callie’s immediate focus was to get Calder back. Jake and Emily mentioned in the most recent mixed bag heartside chat that if Sol got taken by Alexandrite it would have severely changed Callie and Calder’s characters because Sol was the most optimistic of them. Like I know all the naddpod pcs would do anything for eachother (besides maybe bon freres and trinyvale triplets ngl) but ducklycule holds a special place in my heart their soulmateism is off the roof.

I started this out saying I think about Sol, because I do. I think about how before anything, before Albin, Sol was just alone. And then he wasn’t- and I know its a cute thing and that he holds it with pride but he was ‘just’ a sidekick guy for a long time. I think this is where I get a lil fanon-y or headcanon-y whatever its called but I indulge myself in my silly little thoughts about this silly frog!!! This stuff might not be the most accurate to canon!!! IDC!!!

But I just think it’s neat to think about Sol not only standing on the same ground as others for the first time but being valued the way that Calder and Callie value him. Like I dunno just throwin the idea out there of perhaps maybe Sol feeling a little nervous about where he stands with the two perhaps sometimes thinking they look better together just the two of them than with Sol tagging along. Like he’s just the sidekick of two beautiful people who deserve each other and he’s just lucky to be at their side. And then Calder and Callie just immediately showing how not true that is with their actions- like how in the most recent episode they held Sol’s hand to imbue Aryox’s power. And how Callie just understood Sol’s Goonola (trademark pending) markers. And how they wouldn’t be the same without him. I know some of these were bits but Im the kinda guy that gets given an inch and takes a mile!!!!

All in all, viva ducklycule I care about them so much and especially Sol and sometimes a guys just gotta imagine up a hurt/comfort scenario in his head. Thinking abt writing abt it, who knows!!! Would love to hear yall’z ducklycule hcs gimmie plz

#not another dnd podcast #naddpod #naddpod campaign 3 #sol bufo #calder kilde #calliope petrichor #also you could have calder with the same insecurity after Sol and Callie’s make out lie #cute moment of Calder being like “YOU think you don’t belong??? *I* think I don’t belong!#and they’re both like dang..no…we both belong. together. with callie.#and then they all make out the end #can you tell im aro and am making it up as i go #almost forgot #ducklycule

27 notes · View notes

tgmsunmontue · 18 hours

Text

Where do I know you from? 7/?

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX

This one is a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster. Uh. *runs*

PART SEVEN

Rooster has called Maverick over and they’re both staring down at the phone Rooster is holding in his hand, finger flicking through what are clearly pictures and Jake decides to give them some privacy. Heads over to where several versions of himself are talking to Roosters Three and Five, wonders if he should ask the versions of himself if they have any photos of their kids. He can’t miss kids he’s never known though, not like Rooster might miss his parents. Three and Five are glancing toward Rooster and Maverick as well and he wonders if maybe multiple Roosters might want to see the pictures, and that makes him feel bad for Rooster, and even worse about the time he’d brought up his dead father.

“You this Universes’ Jake?” a different Jake asks him, sitting beside him, and Jake nods, allows himself to clink their glasses together as he takes a sip of the drink Six made him.

“Ah, which one do you belong to?” Jake asks, not sure how he’s going to track the versions of himself when he has lost track of most of the Roosters, although the fact that a few have simply not disappeared has helped. How do you make small talk with yourself?

“I’m with that one,” this Jake says, and he gestures with his glass toward Rooster Six, who catches him looking and gives the Jake beside him the sweetest look it makes his heart ache and also feel like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“Oh. Cool,” Jake says, and then Rooster Six is coming closer.

“It was a nice idea, thinking he might like to see photos,” Rooster Six says, and Jake shrugs, because that hadn’t been his intention. He’d thought Rooster could just ask questions. On that thought…

“What are his, uh, your parents like?”

“They’re great. Ridiculously in love and over the top. Mav is worse though, but between my parents and Ice they keep him in line. I’m glad to see Natasha here as well, that I’ve got my best friend by my side in this universe.”

“Yeah, you guys are pretty tight,” Jake muses. “What about you, his parents like you?” Jake asks himself, ignores the roll of eyes Rooster Six makes.

“Yep. They like me. One big weird combined family, and Phoenix combined with my three sisters? They make our lives hell and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You have three sisters?” Jakes asks, surprised, because he has three sisters. Well. Had. He hadn’t thought about the possible similarities between universes, only the differences, and he wonders briefly how Three and Five are going with their spreadsheet.

“Yeah. What’s your damage?” Other Jake asks.

“Katie, Laura and Ivy?” Jake asks, forcing his voice not to break, and fuck, he hasn’t thought this through.

“Yeah! Holy shit! You have three sisters too.”

“Just two now,” Jake admits.

The other Jake looks horrified and close to tears and Jake grits his teeth. It’s been over ten years, but losing his baby sister to a drunk driver will never not hurt. Other Jake is pulling his phone out, tapping it slowly on the bar.

“You want to see?”

He doesn’t know. Laura is frozen in time in his head at seventeen but the idea of knowing she’s out there somewhere, alive and happy…

“Who?”

“Laura. Drunk driver hit her. She was seventeen.”

“Oh shit…” Rooster Six says, then he’s coming around the bar and giving Jake a hug, other Jake is also hugging him, and he’s stiff at first, not expecting the contact but he relaxes into it.

“Show me…”

He sits between them as other Jake takes him through seeing pictures of Rooster’s family in another universe. Then his own family, one not fractured by Laura’s death and he sees nieces and nephews that don’t exist and he feels raw suddenly, like someone has taken a meat grinder to his insides. Their families are obviously intertwined, Phoenix sitting with his sisters, his dad standing by Maverick and Admiral Kazansky and grilling, his mom and what can only be Rooster’s mom sitting back with glasses of wine in their hands. And Laura, older than he’s ever seen her but no less beautiful and alive. So alive and laughing and giving the finger in the photos and Jake’s heart aches.

He chances a quick glance over to where Rooster and Maverick are still sitting, they’re both wiping at their eyes and Jake isn’t sure how they’re feeling, whether he’s done a good thing or not by introducing them to Six. Of course, he had no idea that he was going to be able to whip out a phone full of photos but he’s glad he’s had a chance to see some other version of his sister alive and happy. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, swallows and lets out the breath slowly, centering himself and he slides the phone back to his other self.

“So what do you do? In your universe?”

“I’m a professional computer hacker.”

“What?”

“He works in cyber security,” Rooster Six interjects, rolling his eyes affectionately at the other Jake.

“Oh,” Jake says, not really sure what to do with that exactly, although at least computer hacker sounds interesting.

“Can you… just tell her I love her and miss her.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Thanks.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of himself and Rooster talking surrounding him, although he can hear the others as well, and then he feels a hand clasp his shoulder.

“Javy, hey,” other Jake greets and he hears Javy greet him back.

“This is wild man, so many different versions of you. And I’m your best friend for nearly all of them.”

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Jake says, because a world without Javy in it doesn’t sit right with him any more than a world without flying.

“You know I’m the best best-friend…” Javy says loudly, then he’s dropping to lean against the bar, eyes flicking to Rooster Six and the other Jake. “So what has you guys all looking like you’re at a funeral?”

“Was just looking at photos of Laura. She’s alive where they’re from.”

“Oh shit… you okay man?”

“I will be,” Jake mutters and lets himself receive another hug, this time from Javy, which feels a lot more familiar.

Maverick has gone behind the bar, his arms around Penny and she’s stroking his back and Jake’s too far away to hear anything, but he’s pretty sure she’s torn between consoling him and being annoyed about something and he glances behind him. Rooster Ten and Fifteen, with the Jakes he’s going to assume are also Ten and Fifteen are making out, although he’s going to assume they’ve swapped, because no one is disappearing and they are far beyond the simple kissing stage. He stands and pushes against the bar, heads over quickly.

“Okay. You guys need to go and get a hotel room or something. Penny has a strict no orgy policy in place…”

“You sure you don’t want to join us? The more the merrier you know?”

“No. I’m good thanks. You four have fun though,” Jake says, and he’s glad he has something else to think about.

“Oh we will…”

“Come on, get out of here.”

“Where are they going?” Rooster asks, coming up beside him, watching them leave and his eyes are red from crying. Or maybe the effort of not crying. He doesn’t know. His own eyes probably look the same but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Away. And then hopefully further away.”

“Uh. Okay?”

“What were those Jakes like with you?” Jake asks out of curiosity.

“Fine.”

“Really? Huh.”

“Why, were the Bradley’s so different from me?”

Jake turns to look at him slowly, mouth pursed in thought, not really sure if he wants to go there, because those Roosters had been fine, but they’d also somehow been different from the Rooster standing in front of him.

“Pretty sure you wouldn’t proposition me for an orgy with multiple versions of ourselves…” Jake says, because while he doesn’t think Rooster would do it, he doesn’t actually know him that well. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. You okay? I didn’t know they’d be able to show you photos. Sorry if that fucked with your head or something.”

“I – no. I’m kind of freaked out. But it was good, seeing photos you know? Hard. But good.”

Jakes nods silently, because yeah, he gets that. Hard, but good. He looks around again, can see so many versions of himself paired up with another version of Rooster and it makes something twist inside him, makes him wonder what the whole point of this is. Then he spies a version of himself sitting alone, nursing a glass of something amber colored and he frowns, looks around again and does a head count.

Fifteen Roosters left.

Sixteen Jakes.

Fuck.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #where do I know you from?

26 notes · View notes

seramilla · 2 days

Note

Wait wait...imagine when Velvette is telling Carmilla the news she wants to or just thinks she should do it alone and when Carmilla asks if this is some kind of joke Velvette just has a full breakdown because 'No it's not a fucking joke! Apparently it's real and I wanted to let you know and maybe get some fucking advice cause I'm scared shitless! I know Jack all about being a mom aside from what not to do and now thanks to lust magic I'm apparently having more than one crotch goblin and-' just goes right into a breakdown and possibly a panic attack and Carmilla has to grab her and hold her and talk her down and through it and she's just holding Velvette who lets her for once without a complaint because damnit she's scared okay and Carmilla murmurs how it'll be okay because Velvette will have so much help and advice and she's going to be a good mom

Velvette wanted to tell Carmilla the news alone. She'd thought if Clara or Kiki were in the room with her, she might hole up again inside her mind, and make them do the talking. The truth is, she'd like nothing more than for her partners to be there and do all the hard work for her. But she also knows she's about three seconds away from breaking down. Honestly, she'd rather burden Carmilla with that than see her partners fuss over her more.

Velvette's not sure what she'd expected when she ultimately told Carmilla, "I'm pregnant." What she gets is...surprising, to say the least.

She'd expected...disbelief? Yeah. Anger? Maybe. Being scolded for not being careful? Of course. All of those things would be typical Carmilla reactions. What she gets instead is the opposite of that -- Carmilla goes quiet for several seconds, like she's confused, and then she...she laughs. A really gut-filled, hearty laugh, like she'd just been told the punchline of a joke. That type of sound is almost eerie coming out of this particular woman's mouth. She never laughs like that in front of her. Velvette is stunned.

"You're laughing," Velvette says, stating the obvious. "I come to you, baring my soul, and you're laughing."

"That would imply you're not joking," Carmilla responds. Carmilla lets out a few more throaty giggles, rubbing her eyes, before taking another look at Velvette, who is very unamused. Then Carmilla gets that oh shit look on her face, and actually looks worried. "Aren't you?"

"No, I'm not fucking joking, Carmilla! Why would I even make light about something like this?"

"To get under my skin? That's what you always do!"

Satan, Velvette truly wants to throttle her girlfriend's mother at that moment. She can't blame her for always expecting the worst of her, but fucking damn it! She's trying! She's been trying for months!

"This isn't a fucking joke!" Velvette cries out, taking a step toward Carmilla this time. Her hand goes to her stomach, just to emphasize the point. There are tears forming in her eyes.

"What are you saying?" Carmilla asks.

Hellfire, how can such an intelligent woman be this fucking stupid?

"I'm saying this is fucking real! I don't know how it's possible --probably Kiki's fucking love magic, I don't know -- but this is happening! You're going to be a grandmother, I'm going to be a mother, and I'm fucking scared shitless, okay?! And I thought for once, maybe the great Carmilla Carmine could stop treating me like a child, and talk to me like an equal! You know, instead of assuming I'm always trying to pull a fast one on her!"

Velvette can feel herself starting to have a panic attack. It's like she's an outside observer to her own body, watching herself breaking down in front of her girlfriend's mother. Her head is a jumble of white noise, and her own voice sounds like it's coming from an echo somewhere else down the hall.

"And most of all, I think I just wanted some fucking advice! I don't know the first thing about any of this shit. Heaven forbid I be vulnerable in front of you for once! I just wanted you to tell me it'll be okay, like you would for Clara. That's what moms do, right? Tell their daughters what to do--!"

Before Velvette can finish her thought, she finds herself dragged against a strong, sturdy wall of a person, arms wrapped securely around her shoulders, and her head shoved tightly against a warm chest. Her head is still reeling from her panic attack from earlier, and she almost tries to push against the person who's grabbed her. Until she calms down and looks up, into the scarlet eyes of the woman she had once called her greatest rival.

"I'm sorry, Velvette," Carmilla says, and Velvette doesn't think she's ever heard so much raw emotion in the woman's voice before. It's limned with so much sorrow...anger...regret...maybe sadness? Velvette's not great with reading emotions. But if she has to guess, Carmilla's voice is full of all of those things, and then some.

"I'm sorry," Carmilla repeats, in case Velvette didn't hear her the first time. She squeezes Velvette harder. "Old habits are hard to break. Even for me."

"You mean you're not perfect, you old fossil?" Velvette squeaks, trying to laugh instead of cry, burying her face into Carmilla's chest. Oh, Satan, Velvette's really starting to cry again.

"No," Carmilla says softly. Matter-of-factly. "I'm not."

Velvette's not sure what finally does it. Maybe it's the little bit of validation from Carmilla just then, the feeling of finally being heard, or just the sensation of such a strong pair of arms gripping her body. Maybe it's the sense of safety she feels, or a healthy combination of all of the above.

Whatever the reason, Velvette becomes choked up again. She doesn't sob, or cry out, or act like the baby Carmilla usually expects to her be. She just lets her feelings go, crying them silently into Carmilla's chest, without saying anything, soaking the older woman's shirt with her tears. Carmilla doesn't scold or chastise her for it, or say anything, at first. She just stands there while she does it, letting those motherly arms do what they do best -- absorb all the sadness, trauma, confusion, and fear of a young woman as she falls apart in her arms.

Velvette has always unleashed so much of herself upon Carmilla over the years. Carmilla's grateful for once that she gets to see this side of her, instead of the part that's always trying to fight her. Carmilla gets bolder, and puts her hand in Velvette's hair, stroking lightly with her claws.

"It'll be okay," Carmilla murmurs, so softly Velvette almost doesn't hear it. "I'll help you. You're going to do great. I promise."

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #velvette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #helluva boss #kiki helluva boss #ask #anon #fan theories #velkira #velkira kids au

25 notes · View notes