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#g's writing
sharktofu · 3 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Compilation of Final Fantasy VII Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair & Cloud Strife, Sephiroth & Cloud Strife Characters: Cloud Strife, Rufus Shinra, Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII) Additional Tags: Zack Fair mentioned, mentioned one-sided Sephiroth/Cloud, Tifa Lockhart mentioned, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Good Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Zack Fair Lives, mentioned tseng/reno/rude, Possessive Rufus Shinra, Idiots in Love, Jealous Rufus Shinra, Cloud is a tease and an asshole, 3+1, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Cloud Strife Is a Little Shit, Cloud Strife is a SOLDIER, no beta we die like zack
Summary:
Three times Cloud changed his surname (or shared it), and one time, when Rufus changed it for him.
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wannabepapa · 1 year
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ngl u three r pretty damn cute. but if u want prompts i love when someones gotta birth quietly in the same room as ur baby daddy or other people. feel free to make it about u three if u want
Shit. Not tonight—not when we were supposed to be at this wedding for the next six hours. I thought it was braxton hicks that I had been dealing with for the last two weeks and didn't mention it. Except I was very wrong when I felt my first actual contraction wake me this morning. Luckily I was able to sneak out of bed not long after to the bathroom.
"You definitely picked the worst time little nugget." I mutter, a hand groping around my tender stomach. I had dropped days ago with no labor in sight. It wasn't uncommon for pregnancies to go past the due date so none of us worried when mine passed by. The wedding didn't seem like it would pose a problem at that point, now I'm not so sure. I knew I should have told Marin or E right after they woke up but we had hours before it was push time. First baby and all everyone said to expect to be in active labor before even thinking about going into transitional labor.
Sitting through the ceremony had been mildly uncomfortable—the cramping had gotten old as it took my focus away from the actual ceremony and left my stomach aching. I feel someone's head nuzzle against my neck, pulling me from my discomfort if only for a moment to kiss their head. A hand reaches over the apex of my bump and I see the little cuddle bug is E which elicts a soft smile. He loved the belly and the little nugget that made me turn into a beached whale so much. It was endearing to see how attentive and loving they were to the baby, especially after twenty weeks when the baby started moving.
"You okay?" they whisper low enough only I could hear. His hand rubs my belly absentmindedly—likely in attempts to rouse the babe from their slumber. Right as I was going to answer my muscles contracted, distorting my stomach as it squeezed my room terribly tight. My suit jacket had thankfully hidden how boxy it became though my restrained grunt raised E's and Marin's attention. Her hand founds its way to my protrusion quickly, snaking under the panels of my jacket to feel around curiously.
"Are these real contractions?" her tone is hushed but I can hear the concern lacing it. We had two whole weeks of false contractions that had us all walking on eggshells. Compared to what I was dealing with now those were a breeze. I didn't want to look Marin in the eye and lie—it felt so wrong to keep this from either of my partner when it came to the health of our baby.
"No" my stomach twisted with guilt. It was still early, I could pull this off. The climax of the contractions came and went to bringus back to the finishing of the ceremony. They graciously helped me stand from the folding chair as the newlyweds walked down the aisle with bright smiles and joyful laughter. Everyone clapped and hollered for their happy union before slowly they all filed out after the pair to head to the reception. More sitting and dreading of the next five hours pretending to have fun while my unborn child is rushing to be born.
Hour one was easy to play along in fake excitement. I was too big to go on the dance floor and everyone was milling about to greet everyone. Some friends and family came over to check on me, giving the bump a rub for good luck while gushing about how handsome I looked. This would be a piece of cake.
Hour two took a turn. I seemingly had a hot fash and had to shed the jacket to not feel as if I were suffocating. I looked a mess—shirt clinging to my chest thanks to the sheer size they became over the course of nine months and my back slick with sweat. Baby hairs were pasted to my neck and forehead, beading sweat dripping off me as everyone around was too busy dancing to pay enough mind.
E and Marin had been on the dance floor for the last half an hour throughly enjoying themselves. Every time they came in my line of sight, seeing them laughing and holding each other, made me wish to join them. With how cumbersome I became early in pregnancy there were many things we couldn't all do together—dancing being one of them. At home I would sit in my rocker surrounded by pillows while I watched them slow dance looking so in love. It was a dream.
"Shit." I groan quickly, gripping the edge of the table as my body was rocked again. Three minutes, that's not good. I could feel th frustration of the baby as they were crushed again, knowing full well I was going to get the crap kicked out of me for messing with their comfortable home. Both hands are rubbing circles around the tight orb begging for the pain to end so I could get to the bathroom. My body was slick with sweat and clammy from the stress of labor. Through the stabbing pain I force myself to stand, a hand holding my painfully low middle that threatened to topple me forward. No one was focused on me—they were all going about the hall, laughing gleefully as if there was nothing to care about. I out myself in this position so there was no pity.
Grunting, groaning, just about any noise you could imagine to come from me tumbled out as the slow penguin shuffled commenced to the bathroom. The pressure having built throughout the night brought tears to my eyes with each movement. My hips were on fire, a deep ache in my pelvis was going to drive me crazy. I felt both stubborn and woefully needy for help as my eyes scanned the dance floor for my lovers. Finally making it to the French doors to lead out to the hallway something inside me popped. "Oh shit."
Color drained from my face as my heart began pounding in my ears. No sight of them. They had to be somewhere, but where? Frantic hands reach for my phone in my soaked pants to send and SOS. I had to bite back an animalistic growl as the text was sent into the group chat. Hopefully one of them had their cell to see where I wondered off to. I couldn't stay here but I also didn't know if I could get out the door to make it to the bathroom. It felt like something was threatening to split me in half, the intense pressure building deep within as I grit my teeth to hold back. I barely managed to put my full weight against the door, unsteady feet trying to make purchase in the tiled hall to privacy. I came up short when my knees buckled just outside the door where I caught myself against the door jam. Tears were freely falling as I felt a burning pressure that forced my body to push. No baby. Wait for mama and daddy, please wait..!
I don't know whose arms hooked under my armpit to haul me from my hunched position or how I had suddenly been blinded by a harsh florescent light. No thoughts were important right now. I had staved off labor for too long. I needed to keep pushing now. I held onto whoever was my savior, using them as a counter weight to fall into a deep squat to push again. My clothes felt constrictive—were they this tight earlier today? I was being suffocated by my clothes with some stranger that has to witness someone giving birth. Poor thing.
"Lock the door Mar." Wait. I know that voice. My eyes, unfocused and blurry from stinging tears and sweat, look up to see E. My darling partner with his concerned face looking both terrified and focused all at once. In another moment I hear the lock of the door latch and clicking of heels rushing back to us. Marin— I take a heaving breath before a blubbering sob slips out with incomprehensible apologizes for lying. They both hush me gently, two sets of hands making work getting my sweat and waters soaked clothes off. This wasn't exactly in the birth plan but it didn't matter right now. I had both my partner—the loving parents to this nugget—holding me in their arms as we sway in place waiting for another contraction. I was going to be scolded later. That's okay, they're here now. I'm not alone.
My breath hitched as another burning urge to push overcame me that put me down in a low crouch again. E held fast with Marin kneeling behind me to rub my back, both whispering encouraging words as I put my all into this push. The baby's head was slowly inching its snail pace down my birth canal—I was so close. I could feel myself spreading farther than I thought I could handle. Whimpering and begging for it all to stop I felt soft hands press into my lower back to massage the aching muscles. It was euphoric, a kind gesture that gave me some more to anchor myself for this final push. Letting out a guttural scream I bore down with the little strength I had left, the baby rushing downward until their head fully crowned to spread me painfully wide. I gasped in surprised at the sensations—it was the worst I had ever felt but it was all worth it. We were having a baby. A perfect symbol of our love that would be the stepping stone of our huge family.
"The head, I see the head!" I hear her choked with emotions. She cupped the head with both hands while my body shook in effort. Now I needed to be careful. Little pushes, can't let myself tear and scare anyone. It took all my remaining focus and energy to only let myself push bit by bit. I felt the head bulging out of me, the nose moving and pressing down me, until finally it came to climax with the head finally popping free of me. "Oh my god look at all that hair..!"
In minutes the baby was out and whimpering when I collapsed into E's arms. I felt so empty now and weak. One second I was being cradled then the next I was resting against someone and something was put into my arms. No, not something, the baby. They were bundled up in my shirt wriggling and whimpering at the new world they were brought into. An absolutely perfect little being was in my arms, I was surrounded by the loves of my life who were crying and cooing at our first born, and everything was absolutely perfect. Except the hollow feeling in my belly that made me ache.
"I want another. As soon as possible."
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chaos-mybeloved · 2 years
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So I did a thing... I wrote my first fic!! It's stevetony (which I also found weird but I've been on a Tony Stark kick so I'm not really surprised). Check it out, if you want!
Summary:
Steve Rogers and Tony Stark don't run in the same circles, they don't even go to the same college but that doesn't mean Steve doesn't know who Tony is. Once upon a time, Steve used to think he was the only one who truly knew who Tony was. But that was before. Back when they were scrawny kids playing spaceships on the playground. Back when Steve used to draw just for Tony and Tony used to smile just for Steve. "Well, hello gorgeous. Where're you running off to?" and Steve, Steve knows that voice, could never forget that voice if he tried. It's a little slurred from the alcohol but it's still Tony. Or Steve and Tony are childhood friends turned strangers that have been given a second chance. As long as everything goes according to plan.
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thoughtkick · 9 months
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I hope one day we can forgive each other for not being what we wanted each other to be
Kriti G.
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It's good and cool to give your characters a single simple, straightforward, non-urgent, super-achievable goal that shouldn't really cost anything or hurt anyone, make that the driving factor for most of their decisions, and then have the Plot do everything in its power to stop them.
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cherrywrecked · 4 months
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bite me — yu jimin.
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summary: reader's favorite time of the year is halloween, her favorite mythical creatures are vampires and her fuck buddy, karina, has a developing biting kink.
cw: g!p idol!karina. vampires. aphrodisiac. rough sex with rina. pussy slapping. dirty talking. no condoms. dom!karina.
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halloween was long far done, but to you, every day was halloween. i mean, it is your favorite time of the year; anybody could be anyone. you can be a sexy doctor or nurse, a slutty firefighter, a cheerleader, hell, you can even be a fucking vampire. everybody could wear whatever we want with zero judgement and that's what you liked about halloween best. but i honestly you won halloween 2023. you were so committed to it, you even got vampire fangs. crazy? maybe, but your sexual partner loved it best. she only saw it online, but still, who's crazier between the two of you?
karina had been away for a few months for their tour and unfortunately, you weren't together last halloween, but she's now home for the holidays, and it wouldn't be karina if she didn't have anything prepared for me when you got to her apartment. the moment you walked inside the pad, all you could smell was the enticing scent of a dark, elegant and sexy perfume—it was scented candles. it was all over the hallway, as if forming a path for you to walk through. just a few steps away from me was her table and there was a glass of wine atop of it with a note which read, “come straight to my room after you're done with this.” you took your time with the wine, but as soon as you were done with it, you went straight to her room which you didn't have a hard time looking for.
there, karina was sitting on a single couch, a leg crossed over the other. she looked stunning with her black jeans and tight crop top that hugged her beautiful frame. “took you a while since i heard you enter.” she said as she got up from the couch and slowly walked towards you. “it's been a while.” she whispered, face close to yours. she looked so pretty but you started feeling lightheaded and moreover, hot. “karina, why the fuck do you have your ac off?” you asked to which karina only laughed at. she took another step closer, and another, until she pushed you in her bed.
“oh, sweetheart. still as gullible as the first time, aren't you?” she smirked as her index finger traced your chest down to your cleavage through your black lace top. her touch brought shivers down your spine, moreso when she ripped your top open. she was scaring you as you've never seen her like this. “the wine... did you put something in it?” you muttered, biting on your lower lip to bite back the whimpers itching to escape as her fingers played with my nipples. karina smirked, humming. “smart girl, why, is it taking effect already?” you blushed and sure enough, it was. your body was aching for her. instead of replying, you pulled her into a hungry kiss, one arm snaking around her neck as if locking her body close to yours, whilst the other roamed around her body, eventually taking her top off, leaving the both of you now topless.
you felt karina run her tongue along your lips which you then parted and let her in—your tongues danced, fighting for dominance, but you both know she'd win. you can feel yourself get so turned on and wet through your panties just by the kiss. “rina, i need you.” you whispered when she brought her lips to your jaw, tracing the kisses down your neck. she didn't reply, she instead used her hand to cup your womanhood through your panties under your skirt, eliciting a long moan from you. her hands feel so soft against you, you needed more.
moving your hips, you started to hump her palm, palming myself as she kissed your neck, nibbling on patches of your skin to mark her territory. “you enjoy this, don't you? look at your slutty waist, moving on its own.” she chuckled lowly against your ear before pulling away only to take the remaining pieces of clothing off your body. your nipples are so hard and you could already feel your wetness dripping down your cheeks. it's the first time you felt so horny, so needy and all you could think of is her— you wanted her.
“karina, please. i need you. fuck me, mhm? i'll be good. please.” you said as you reached out to hold her. karina only slapped your hands away and roughly spread your legs. she got in between them, her knee pressed against your cunt. you mumbled another profanity and karina's face got closer to you. she only stared at you; “move.” she commanded and you instantly knew what she meant— your hips automatically moved on its own. as if rubbing your clit against her thigh wasn't enough, karina started to slap your mounds alternately. it was too much, your moans started to get higher with every slap. as your skin gets redder with every slap, karina's smirk grew wider—even more when she took notice of the fangs you've had done.
knowing your mounds are already sensitive, karina pulled you in and put one of your nipples into her mouth, licking, sucking and lightly nibbling on it as she played with the other with her hand. karina felt your body shiver, and with one hard suck, your body collapsed on top of her. “you love being a slut for me, mhm?” karina whispered against your skin, earning a loud, whining from you as a response. karina, she thinks—no, she knows she owns your body. she knows it even more than you do, so it wasn't hard for her to know when you're already close to cumming. not saying another word, she used her free hand to palm your clit, making you bury your face against her neck, but the moment she slipped two fingers inside of your hole swiftly which pushed you over the edge, cumming, biting karina's shoulder. she winced it pain, yet groaned from the painful yet pleasurable feeling of your sharp teeth against her soft skin. “rina, rina—!” not even letting you compose yourself, karina started to thrust her fingers in and out roughly of your entrance. collapsing on top of her, pushing her over the bed, your body wiggles, pushing your bottom more against her fingers, grinding against her palm.
“t-that feels s-so good—fuck. more, please! mommy, please, more.” it was the nickname that sparked something in karina. she pulled her fingers out, rolling your bodies over. now with her on top of you, she kisses you on the lips, letting her tongue graze over the sharpness of your fangs. “wait here.” she says as she pulled away, leaving you breathing heavily and still, needy. you started to play with your nipples, tears forming your eyes as you grind your hips against the empty space karina was once were. rubbing your clit, you moaned out her name, and as if on queue, karina was back, naked and a lubricant on her hand. “naughty girl, who told your to touch yourself?” she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, as she opened the bottle of lubricant, smearing some over your sensitive clit, the coldness of the gel making you shiver. hovering over your torso, her dick sticking out, poking against your mouth. “suck.” with sparkly eyes, you looked up at her as you opened your mouth and took her in. you sucked, licking along the tip of her cock, earning a low grown from karina. “mhm, you take me in so good.” she said before thrusting her hips, forcing her full length inside your mouth, deep throating, suffocating you. she pulls herself back, a string of your saliva and her precum trailing from your lips and her tip.
“karina, i need you to fuck me, please.” your voice was weak and shaky, almost sounding like you're about to cry, but it was just from karina teasing her tip against your clit and your entrance. “yeah? beg for it.” karina laughed menacingly while you could only while as you reached your hand out for her, the other pressing her length against your cunt. “rina, baby... mommy, please. please, please! i'm your good girl, please, fuck me.” karina loved it. she loved hearing your voice so needy, she loved looking at your desperate eyes, she loved that you were so desperate for her and only her.
karina didn't waste any more time and slid her length inside of you, making you arch your back while letting out a long, loud moan in pleasure. karina didn't move, letting you adjust to her length, but she let out a chuckle of amusement as you desperately reached your hand for her, eager to hold her—touch her, as if her body's not against yours just yet. karina started to roll her hips, making you wince yet moan out in both pain and pleasure. god, you were so wet for her and karina loved that atop of it all. with or without the fucking drugs, the both of you knew that only she can make you this fucking turned on. karina started to thrust in you, moaning your name every time her length completely disappears inside your cunt. her dick is so big that with every thrust, she hits every fucking spot possible and it's making you insane. you feel so lightheaded and nothing but senseless begging and chants of her name spilled out of your mouth.
“fuck, baby, you're so wet.” she groaned, slapping your cunt in between every word, each slap making you squeal louder and louder, eyes rolling back. “c-close... i'm soso close, rina!” you announced so fucking loud, karina had to cover your mouth with her palm. “cum with me.” she only replied, putting more force into her thrust, each thrust feeling slower yet so much deeper as your walls clenched around her length. karina used her free hand to rub your clit, heightening your pleasure. forcing yourself to open your eyes, you looked up at her through your lust filled eyes as you brought her hand to your neck, choking yourself with it as you get closer to your high. karina took the initiative to do so, making you smile, biting your lower lip and holy fuck. in karina's eyes, you looked the hottest lile that. god, that stupid vampire fang of yours.
feeling a familiar knot forming, karina drops and pushes her mounds against yours, letting your nipples rub against each other. “cum inside—inside! please, i want to feel you, rina! breed me. fucking breed me, please, please—!” through your moans, you managed to beg for her. at this point, karina could only think so little, she wanted you. she wanted you to have her and nobody else. “i'm cumming, baby—fuck. cum with me...! fuck, i'm cumming!” with your face buried onthe crook of her neck, you wrapped your legs around her waist, not wanting her to pull away, chanting her name along with strings of profanities in between your moans. soon enough, the both of you are cumming—karina shooting her load inside of you at the same time you clenched your walls around her length, making her groan out loud. with your teeth dug on her neck, leaving a mark, karina threw her head back, moaning your name in pleasure, whilst your body squirms and trembles under her.
heavy breathing and whispered profanities were shared as you both laid next to each other. "you're mine, understand? you're all mine." karina muttered as she kissed your lips, hands once again roaming your body. "one more."
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hehe, this took a while. i got so sick during the holidays, so i couldn't really post it. anyways, happy holidays, my kitties!
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riaki · 5 months
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nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader
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wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends
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i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!
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satoru hates arguing with you.
it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.
it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.
of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.
but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.
it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.
it was small. barely worth fussing over.
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he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.
a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.
"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.
his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.
you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.
"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.
(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)
you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.
he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.
you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.
"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.
you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.
"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.
he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.
then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.
"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.
his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.
(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)
but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.
"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.
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the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.
and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).
a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.
but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.
you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.
"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"
"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”
...
he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.
maybe.
a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.
it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.
"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.
"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)
his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.
you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.
he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.
the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.
what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.
eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.
wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.
despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.
and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.
"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.
"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."
you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.
"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.
(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)
"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.
"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.
you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.
he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.
you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.
you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.
you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.
you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.
"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.
even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.
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its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !
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ryukatters · 6 months
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9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men
pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader
a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔
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“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me," your best friend scoffs. 
It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean. 
"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."
"They're...nice."
He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”
You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow. 
"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."
"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects." 
You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated. 
He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right. 
"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"'s fine."
"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”
You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes. 
"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."
"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?" 
You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance. 
"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.
"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks. 
"I do," he professes without missing a single beat. 
"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?
"Because I've felt it," he hums. 
“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?
“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.
“I…”
“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”
That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.
“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”
Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder. 
There’s a pregnant pause.
When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain. 
“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”
You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours. 
“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?
Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.
“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”
Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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sharktofu · 4 months
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It's my birthday next week-
I don't think I have a (fan)base big enough for this, but:
It's my birthday next week, so is there some fic from me You want to read?
Something I talked about or teased, or maybe something You (dear citizen) thought of and want to see it in my writing style?
I can do oneshots or a new chapter for my already published story. (PS. I started another account for my ATEEZ-fics if someone's interested.)
My birthday is on the 11th, so lets give ourselves time to 13th, hm?
💚💚💚
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A pro censorship candidate is running for OTW (owner of AO3) board, please vote to protect the archive of our own.
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entomolog-t · 1 month
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You know what I wanna see??
Borrower stories where the human isn't just your everyday citizen.
Borrowers who realize they're living with a particularly dangerous psychopath, a spy, some mystical being they didn't realize existed, a mad scientist, ANYTHING.
I want the borower to feel like the normal being compared to whatever frick frack is going on with the human.
I want it to be incredibly weird when they meet.
Like both of them catching the other in the act of something they definitely weren't supposed to see. Both of them being utterly baffled by one another.
Forget the single sided "human realized borrowers exist"
I want a duel sided ball drop moment.
A killer caught in the act by a borrower-
An alien taking off their disguise and just hearing a tiny scream from under the furniture
A spy catching a tiny being rummaging through very confidential documents and immediately thinking this is some wildly advance spy tech
A scientist finding a tiny being staring in horror at the experiments locked up in their lab
A vampire getting caught drinking blood by a curiously tiny lil human
JWHFDLKAFHKL
Goodness- I need WEIRD borrower stories.
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thoughtkick · 21 days
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The person who broke your heart can never fix it, remember.
Kriti G.
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perfectquote · 1 year
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I hope one day we can forgive each other for not being what we wanted each other to be
Kriti G.
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keferon · 3 months
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…..I genuinely can’t remember the exact size difference between Rodimus and Thunderclash hahaha. And I’m too lazy to search for a panel with them standing next to each other👍
Anyway.
@lush-specimen and their Over My Dead Body fic made me love this giant metal teddy bear. I couldn’t help but draw him:>
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libraryraccoon · 2 months
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A Penguin And The Angel Of Death
Gift for : @deadghosy
Gender : Penguin
Pronouns : They/Them
Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.
TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.
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How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.
Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.
"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.
Friendship. Instantly.
He was your platonic soulmate.
I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.
The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.
“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.
You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.
Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.
"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.
“Yo bitch.”
They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.
"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.
You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.
Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.
Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.
Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.
Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.
You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.
Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.
Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.
You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.
You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.
I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.
I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.
It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.
It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.
They had a party to celebrate it.
No one can fuck with you.
Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.
Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.
Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.
And it works.
I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"
Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.
The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.
Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️
Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.
Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.
But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..
Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.
The best moments are those of hugs.
Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.
Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?
I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-
You are always in the middle of family hugs.
Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..
LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.
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jybyls · 25 days
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Middle of the night
Request by anonymous here
Warnings: pure smut, g!p!reader, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, edging ig, i think that's all
Words: 1.4k
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Tara's POV:
It's currently 3 a.m. and I've been awake for an hour now, I can't sleep for one really specific reason:
I'm horny.
I woke up at 2 a.m. after an erotic dream with my girlfriend, and now I can't get it out of my brain. I need her now, but I feel kinda guilty waking her up for this. She won't get that mad if I do wake here up, right ?
Ah, fuck it, she'll eventually forgive me.
“Hey, love, wake up.” I nudged her arm softly just enough to wake her up. “Baby ? What's wrong ?” Her eyes slowly opened, but she quickly sat up, analazing my body. I could read panic in her eyes, so I immediately calmed her down, not wanting her to think something bad happened.
“Don't worry, nothing bad happened, it's just... I'm horny.” I looked at her eyes, biting my lips waiting for her answer. She let out a small laugh as her body relaxed. She slightly shook her head before looking back up at me. “Oh my god. Are you serious ?” She asked still in disbelief that I woke up her because of my horniness, “Yes, very serious. I need you to fuck me, y/n. Please.” I could tell she was trying her best not to break the eyes contact, but she misserably failed and looked away.
However, my eyes didn't leave her face, only waiting for her to look back at me. When her eyes were back on mine, it took her a few seconds to breathe out her next words, “You're crazy, Tara.” She looked away once again, but this time, I held her chin with my fingers to make her look right back at me. Even with the darkness of the room, the only light being the moon reflection through our widow, I could still see how red she became, and I planned on making her redder.
“Then, fuck the craziness out of me.” I whisper in her ear, I couldn't help but smirk at her reaction. Her eyes widden and I could feel her face heating up on my fingertips.
Isn't it insane how someone can look this flustered, and yet that same person can take your ability to walk away ?
“So ? What do you say ?” I teased her a little more, which seemed to have unlocked something in her brain because she finally gave me an answer.
“I'm down.” Without missing a beat she got on top of me and kissed me, our tongues fought for dominance, but I eventually let her win (the woman has too much ego), her hands were rooming around my body quickly undressing me, leaving me with just in my panties. Her mouth left mine to press hot kisses all over my skin. I let out a breathy moan when I felt her mouth on my right breast, she was being taking her time but my hunger was too big for her little games so I gripped her hair harshly to pull her more into me.
She moaned at the sudden action. Her moan was surprisly loud until I realised pushing her into me and also made her bulge jerk against my thigh. She repositioned herself between my legs, and this time she started to grind against my still covered cunt, my hips instantly followed her mouvement. She switched from my right breast to the left one, giving it as much attention.
We were grinding against each other like dogs in heat. Our make-out session was initiated again after she left her marks everywhere her mouth went. I was starting to get impatiant, the need to feel her was becoming unbearable, I let my hand travel down inside her grey sweats pants, rubbing her through the fabric of her boxers, she instinctively jerked against my hand.
“Tara,” She breathed out, “let's stop the teasing, alright ?” For this once she looked straight in the eyes, lust and desire being the noly things I read in them, I can't resist to that look and she knows it.
“Alright.” I whispered, fuck she can be intimidating. She kept her eyes on mine as she slowly goes down to my private area, using her teeth to take my panties off. She carelessly throw them somewhere in the room before going back between my thighs, I could feel her hot breath on my clit, making me shiver under her. She didn't waste any more time and started attacking my clit, sucking, biting, nipping, kissing it, she was already starting to abuse my pussy within 10 seconds of her mouth on it. Her eyes never left mine during the entire process until now her focused was fully on my swollen cunt.
Not that I'm complaining.
She pushed my thighs higher to have better access to my entrance. She suddenly slammed two fingers inside of me, I screamed out her name but hushed myself up with my palm. Her fingers were moving with a rentless pace inside of me, her mouth was still sucking my clit like it was her last meal.
“Fuck you taste so good, love” She hummed into my pussy, I couldn't even process what she said my mind was too lost in pleasure to even care.
“Fuck, yes, keep going, baby !” I moaned out, she went harder, so much harder the bed started to move with me. I was getting close, my back arched off the matress of the bed, my walls squeezed her fingers thighly, my eyes rolled to the back of my head, my body started to shake but she pulled out before I could cum. Leaving me confused and frustered.
“What the fuck, Y/n ?” I asked, clearly annoyed. She didn't answer the way I expected her too, she just passoniatly kissed me. I obvsiouly kissed her back until I felt something streching me out deliciously. That definitly wasn't her fingers. She swallowed my moans before disconnecting our lips, “Satisfied now ?” She asked breathing as heavily as me. “Yeah, ve- very.” I whined as she went faster not really letting me give her a proper answer.
She buried her face in my neck, and she grunt next to my ear, which turned me on more if that's even possible. Her groans turned into moans when my walls wrapped her length tightly. My nails digged into her shoulders, her cock twitched as she whined quietly. She held herself up with her hands on my hips, the new angle gave her a chance to go harder and she didn't miss that chance. I wanted to hold into something as I started to sob soflty. I tired to keep my arms on her shoulders but her thrust were too powerfull for me to keep my arms there, so instead I held her hands the best I could.
“Oh god, Tara, you feel so good, love.” I heard her groan out. My only answer was a moan, but that was apparently enough for her because she went faster, causing me to moan louder, which I guess woke up the neighbourhoods. None of us give a fuck though.
“Fuck ! Yes, keep going, baby.” I was getting close, I know she was too. I could feel her dick throbbing inside of me, her thrust became irregular, but deeper.
“Tar, I'm close.” Her right hand moved next to my head. Her other hand was holding the back of my thigh because my legs were slowly giving up the hold they had around her waist.
“Me too, babe, 'm gonna cum.” And with that we came together, moaning if not screaming each other's name. Her thrust slowed down, she softly kissed me to distract me from pulling out of me. I whined at the emptiness. “Wait here a sec.” She pecked my lips before getting up, I smiled to myself like an idiot looking at her.
She came back with a wet towel and glass of water, and she gently cleaned me up, kissing my thigh as she did it. I patted her hair, smiling down at her. She smiled back at me, coming up to me kissing me with pure tenderness. She pulled back to hand me the glass of water, then looked at me like a lost baby.
I laughed at her face and cupped her cheek. “In the first drawer, baby.” She opened the drawer I was mentioning and took my birth control pills, I hummed a small 'thank you' as I swallowed the pill.
She helped me get under our blanket, and she pulled me closed to her to kiss my nose. I giggled at her action before doing the same to her. “I love you.” I mumbled, “I love you too. Good night, sweatheart.” She whispred.
I closed my eyes, satisfied that I got what I wanted. I quickly fell asleep with a content smile on my face.
I'll wake her up in the middle of the night more often.
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I think that's the first time I've written a g!p!reader. What are we thinking gays ?
Have a good day/night. Love ya <33
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