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#Hidden words written(Anonymous)
multis-sermonibus · 11 months
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bright ube: if you could live in a book, tv show or movie, what would it be? (Kakashi)
♥ send a shade of purple. ♥
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"Would it be too obvious if I said the Icha Icha series? Because that's what I'm picking!"
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teamatsumu · 4 months
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the best bad decision. (iwaizumi hajime x reader)
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summary: “wrote a confession for character A, accidentally gave it to character B instead” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions
word count: 2.3k
warnings: fem!reader, swearing, oikawa is insensitive sometimes, fluff
tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
event masterlist
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You liked to think you weren’t one to fall into stereotypes. But every once in a while you did something that reminded you that you weren’t different from everyone around you. Like right now, standing hidden behind the corner of this building, clutching an obvious red envelope in your hands, waiting for the volleyball team to shuffle out of their club room so you could sneak in and slip the envelope into a certain boy’s locker.
So you had a tiny little crush on everyone’s favorite boy, Oikawa Tooru. Sue you.
Your ears were on high alert, staying as still as possible so you could focus on the voices drifting out of the room. You were a bit farther away, since you wanted to be hidden, but if you strained yourself enough, you could make out the sounds. You tried not to make yourself tense, afraid you would wrinkle the envelope. You had been so careful with it. Making sure you didn’t smudge any words as you wrote, perfuming the paper afterward. You even used that expensive wax and seal that you bought only for journaling purposes. You wanted it to be known that you made an effort.
All for him.
It was hard not to fall for someone as charming as Oikawa. He was tall and handsome, he was always so nice, always welcoming to anyone who wanted to speak to him. He was beyond talented. You could watch him play for hours. You did watch him play for hours. At the end of the day, you were just like all the other giggling, blushing girls who admired him.
The only difference is that you had never gone farther than admiration until now. You had never spoken to him, never greeted him in the hallways, never made him anything to eat like girls often did. You had watched from afar and basked in the warm, bubbly feeling that comes with having crushes.
But now here you were, slipping him a letter with all your feelings written on it. You were going into this not expecting him to accept the confession. You hadn’t even put your name on it. It was anonymous. God knows how many of these he got on a daily basis. And with Valentine’s Day approaching, you were sure his locker was overflowing. What was one more, right? You were doing this for yourself more than anything else. You needed to get these feelings out because they were overflowing in your head.
You were shaken from your thoughts when you realized the locker room was completely silent by now. You listened closely, giving it another few minutes. No shuffling, no humming, not even a peep. The coast was clear.
You could feel your entire body shake as you turned the corner and stealthily hurried to the club room door. You couldn’t let anyone see you going inside, so you quickly opened the door, slipping in and sliding the door shut behind you. You let out a sigh of relief.
Then you turned around, and your eyes met wide chestnut ones.
Oikawa was standing next to an open locker, a half folded shirt in his hand. He had probably been mid fold when you had barged in, staring at you with those big browns, mouth slightly open. Thick silence stretched over you both as you stood frozen, not even blinking.
Oikawa’s eyes drifted down to your hand, the very obvious, deep red envelope. His lips twitched before a smile took over them.
“Hello there.” His voice was lively. “Is that for me?”
You tensed at the sound of his voice, your panic finally catching up to your brain as you gulped around the knot in your throat. “No!”
He raised an eyebrow at that, tilting his head a bit. A lock of his hair fell over his forehead. “No?”
“No.”
Another silence, awkward as anything. You couldn’t move at all. You felt like you were frozen in place. Every muscle in your body was pulled tight. You had never anticipated that of all the people who could catch you in the locker room, it would be Oikawa himself.
“So who’s it for?” He then asked, eyes darting between your face and the envelope. You felt your face burn, heating up so much it made you dizzy.
“It’s-” Your mouth was so dry. You had no saliva. None. Not a drop. It felt like you were incomprehensible. Could you even speak? Or was it all gibberish? Were you spiraling now?
Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god-
“It’s for Iwaizumi-san.”
Oikawa blinked at that, and you realized you had caught him off guard. Well, he wasn’t the only one. You had caught yourself off guard too. It seemed that, in the midst of your panic and staring at Oikawa, the only other person you could name was Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi Hajime. Oikawa’s best friend. Seijoh’s ace. Someone you saw just as much as Oikawa considering they were attached at the hip. No wonder when you had to think of someone, you thought of him.
“Well now I’m truly shocked!” Oikawa sounded jovial, placing a hand on his hip, his half folded shirt crumpled in his other hand. “A confession for Iwa-chan? I never thought this day would come!”
Your mind raced and you tried to scramble your thoughts together into somewhat understandable sentences. But you had just dug this fresh hole for yourself and you didn’t know what to do to get out of it. In fact, at this moment, there was no getting out of it. You had to go along.
“Y-yes.” You managed to blurt out, not knowing what else to say, looking anywhere but at him, who was steadily growing more and more amused by the second.
“You have to give it to him!”
Your head snapped up, and that’s when you realised what true panic was. What you had felt so far was nothing compared to the shitstorm your brain was experiencing after what he had just said.
“Come on.” Oikawa threw the shirt carelessly into his locker, slamming it shut and fast walking to you. With one grip on your forearm, he tugged open the club room door and proceeded to speed out of it, dragging you with him.
“W-wait!” Your voice trembled, and you doubt he even heard you. You felt like your whole mouth was stuffed with cotton. You tried to lock your legs into place and break Oikawa’s momentum. It was not happening. He was way stronger than you. You tried to pry his hand off your arm, but his grip was vice-like.
“Oikawa-san!” You basically shrieked like a hyena, finally breaking through right outside the Seijoh gym. You snatched your hand away.
“I can’t!”
Oikawa stared down at you, blinking owlishly. You bit your lip.
“Oh.” He breathed, and you saw realization wash over his face. You froze. Had he figured it out?
“I get it.” Did he?
Then he promptly turned around and cupped his mouth with his hands, leaning in through the open gym doors.
“Iwa-chan!” He shouted.
You gaped at him, struggling to even comprehend what was going on in his head. But that was the least of your worries, because trudging footsteps sounded and then the boy in question was standing in the gym entrance, scowling down at his friend.
Oh no. Oh, this is bad. This is so bad, I’m so screwed-
“Look!” Oikawa pointed at you, or more accurately, he pointed at the envelope in your hand. Iwaizumi followed his gaze, and you saw his scowl drop as shock colored his features.
“It’s for you! Can you believe it?” Oikawa let out a cackle, leaning an arm against the gym door. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
Iwaizumi looked genuinely incredulous, like this was something he hadn’t dreamt of in his wildest dreams. Later when you looked back on what happened, you would be surprised that despite being friends with the most popular guy on campus, Iwaizumi did not get much attention. He lived in Oikawa’s shadow, and he liked it that way.
Right now, his feelings were the least of your concerns though.
Finally free from Oikawa’s grasp, you lunged forward, slamming the envelope against his chest before turning on your heel and absolutely booking it. There was no other option. You couldn’t give that shit to Iwaizumi. You also couldn’t give it to Oikawa and say you had lied. It couldn’t get any more humiliating than it already was, so you might as well run away.
Very active fight or flight response, one might say.
Oikawa watched your back as you ran full speed, one hand holding the envelope he was so unceremoniously handed. He turned his attention down to it when the flowery scent hit his nose, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Aw, she perfumed it too! How romantic.”
He grinned up at Iwaizumi, whose ears had turned red. Iwaizumi’s scowl deepened as he stared at the shiteating grin on Oikawa’s face. But he didn’t stop himself from taking the envelope Oikawa handed to him, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest.
………………..
When you tried to convince your mom that you didn’t really need high school when homeschooling was a perfectly viable option, she told you to suck it up and there was no way you were dropping out. You didn’t know how to tell her that your life in high school was pretty much over. How could you show your face in any place where you might run into Oikawa or Iwaizumi?
But alas, you could only take one sick day before throwing yourself back to the wolves.
You were jumpy the whole day, paranoid that somehow everyone knew what had happened two days ago. But your day went by as normal, unaffected by the storm in your head. You should’ve known your peace wouldn’t last. At lunchtime, the one person you had been dreading the most was standing before your desk, looking down at you expectantly.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
Well. This was it. The one thing you were hoping and praying you could somehow avoid.
Iwaizumi led you outside for some privacy, finding an empty bench overlooking the school’s running track. You sat stiffly by his side, waiting for him to speak.
“I read the letter.”
You closed your eyes and nodded, coaxing him to continue. You knew the contents of the letter. You had mulled them over in your head ten thousand times yesterday. You had not written Oikawa’s name. You had talked only about how you felt about him and the thoughts plaguing your head. You knew how easily Iwaizumi could have thought it was about him and not Oikawa.
“I’m sorry.” You blurted out.
“For the confession?”
You hesitated. “For how it all played out.”
That was vague enough.
Iwaizumi let out a breathy chuckle, and you looked up at him. “I think I should apologize instead. Oikawa can be a bit of an insensitive jerk.”
You felt your lips twitch into a smile, shrugging. “He kinda steamrolled all over me.”
Iwaizumi groaned, running a hand through his spiky hair. You followed the movement with your eyes, gaze pausing on how his bicep flexed. Something in your heart stuttered.
Up close, he was extremely attractive. His skin was smooth and clean, and his hair looked soft despite being so short. His jaw was defined and his eyes were striking. When he looked at you for longer than a beat, it made your insides squirm.
“I’m sorry about him. He told me he found you in the club room. I’m sure you wanted to do it anonymously. He shouldn’t have dragged you here. That wasn’t cool.”
You smiled at how considerate he was being. “It- It’s okay.”
“And I’ll make him apologize to you too. Promise.”
His lip ticked up in a crooked smile. You couldn’t help but stare. You watched him grow a bit nervous, rubbing the back of his neck. A little habit?
“I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me sometime?”
The question caught you off guard. You knew how Iwaizumi perceived you after the contents of that confession. You had just not anticipated that he would want anything to do with you. In your slurry of thoughts, you realized you had still not told him that the confession wasn’t for him. You stared at him, wide-eyed.
The sun beat down on your heads, casting harsh shadows on his face. High cheekbones. Strong jaw. And those same captivating eyes. You couldn’t remember ever appreciating him the way you were right now. Oikawa’s light was so bright it made Iwaizumi almost invisible. But here and now, it was just him. No distractions, no takeaways. Just Iwaizumi in all his glory. And it was making your heart skip.
“Okay.” You breathed.
Iwaizumi positively lit up at your words, straightening his back. His features smoothed, his eyes widened and a smile took over his face.
“Cool!” He blurted out, before clearing his throat. “That’s uh, I mean. Great. That’s great.”
You giggled as he stumbled over his words, endeared by his reaction. Your heart and mind both told you this was the right decision. With Oikawa, it was a puppy crush. With Iwaizumi, something told you it could be so much more.
Years later, when you told Iwaizumi about the exact intentions of that letter, and how you were beyond grateful you hadn’t given it to Oikawa, all he did was cackle while the Argentinian setter whined about how he had missed his chance.
He was joking, of course. He was the proudest best man ever at your wedding. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
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yunopouts · 8 months
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scream - l. jeno
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-> lee jeno x fem reader
-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)
-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)
-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.
-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!
-> word count: 4.2k!
-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!
safe! master list
mature! masterlist
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“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.
“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume. 
Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen. 
“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink. 
“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl. 
Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.
The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.
For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.
Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.
As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.
Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.
Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.
As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.
Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.
Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.
Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes. 
The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.
You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’. 
“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.
The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen. 
Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.
The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.
As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.
Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands. 
Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.
His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.
His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive. 
While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on. 
You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.
He looked like he was starving.
And starving, he was.
Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it. 
Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out. 
As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.
“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”
Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth. 
Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try. 
Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it. 
You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand. 
“Stop.” Jeno told you.
You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.
“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle. 
You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil. 
Oh…
Not one;
Not two;
Or three;
But six.
Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package. 
“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow. 
Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”
And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.
“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere. 
What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long. 
Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers. 
“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake. 
You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”
The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.
With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace. 
Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven. 
“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.
Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it. 
And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears. 
Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.
It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp. 
“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.
When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.
“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.
The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind. 
Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe. 
Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all. 
The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh. 
You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.
Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply. 
The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it. 
So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane. 
Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you. 
“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him. 
His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore. 
He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop. 
It was just too good to stop.
So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.”  Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet. 
He couldn’t fucking believe it.
His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some  liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.
As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs. 
Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”
“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff. 
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cameronspecial · 28 days
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Could you write a Rafe Cameron x curvy/chubby middle class reader fanfic where reader starts receiving love letters and gifts from a secret admirer called your mr right or something cheesy like that and she requests help from the pogues help in finding this secret admirer. Later she finds out that her secret admirer is none other than Rafe Cameron (her “handsome enemy”) after him interrupting her and a guy because (he’s super jealous). She confronts him on it(thinking it is some cruel joke of his; trying to get the chubby/curvy pogue princess to sleep with him and talk bad about her afterwards to his friends. Rafe has been in love with reader since the day he met her and flirts with her which always leads to bickering mainly reader being sassy and sarcastic with him and him just eating it up with a smirk. This confrontation leads to love confessions, breeding and praise kink/smut
Mr.Right
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: SMUT
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.6K
Masterlist
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Y/N never thought Mr. Right would be none other than Rafe Cameron. It doesn’t make sense. After years of the two of them being in opposition, she can’t believe he is the one who has been sending her love letters for just as long. She remembers the excitement of finding the first letter. 
She had been living in the Outer Banks for three weeks and she couldn’t believe someone was interested in her, especially because no one had shown any desire for her in thirteen years of living. Most of the boys she has met didn’t like that she was sassy and sarcastic. They preferred girls who would go along with their every word. Sure, her friends, her fellow pogues, weren’t like everyone else, but she knew they all had a crush on Kiara, which was understandable to her because JJ, John B and Pope had known her forever. So, when she found the messily written letter signed by Mr.Right saying that she had a fiery personality and was the most beautiful woman Anonymous had seen, she couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach. It was the first time someone had considered her a woman, even though she had her first period two years ago. As the years went on, more and more letters came in, sometimes with gifts, and her self-confidence grew. She would use the letters as a reminder of who she really was whenever the dick boys at school would mock her because of her weight. 
That is why when she pieces together the identity of Mr. Right, her mind reels at the thought of Rafe being the one to help boost her confidence. It can’t be him, not when he has been the one to poke at every button she owns. Nevertheless, it can’t be more clear to her as she processes the words he says. “Don’t touch Fireball again,” Rafe threatens the man who she was dancing with. The nickname is one only used by one person in her life and it can’t be a coincidence that Rafe used it too. Suddenly, the butterflies plummet to their death into her stomach acid. Of course, Mr.Right is him because the letters aren’t genuine love letters. They can’t be. Instead, she is sure that he is using them as a cruel way to mock her and she can imagine the years he has spent laughing over her naivety. He has probably hidden from the sight of her mailbox to watch her happily open the letters. He must have loved it whenever she would do one of her dorky dances in excitement. 
Fury forms in the pit of her stomach and she goes to the one mode she is used to when it comes to Rafe. Confrontation. 
Rafe watches the loser walk away from Y/N with his head hung low. Rafe’s satisfaction is short-lived as she grabs his shoulder to spin him to look at her. “You are a cruel man to play that sick joke for six years,” she yells in his face. His eyebrows meet and his head tilts, “What are you talking about?” She laughs with a shake of her head. “Don’t play dumb with me, Mr.Right.” She punctuates the alias with bunny ears. The pseudonym illuminates the reason for her anger and he is quick to understand that she thinks his letters were a joke. “They aren’t a joke, Fireball. Every word I said is true.” He doesn’t see a reason to lie. He has been found out. She scoffs, “Why would I believe you? All we’ve ever done is be at each other’s throat and you would take any chance to blow my fuse.” He steps forward so that she can feel his breath fan on her face. The mintiness of his breath mint hits her. “Because every single fibre of my body yearns for you and it is impossible for me to hide it. That’s why I had to write to you,” he growls at her, not in anger but in passion. His words cause a wetness to form between her thighs. She is definitely going to feel it when she walks away, her thighs rubbing against each other will cause it to spread. She doesn’t back down, “Like I can believe you can feel anything other than anger. I bet most of the girls you have slept with faked an orgasm because they couldn’t take how furious you look while fucking them.”
“So you have thought about what I looked like while having sex?”
“Ha, yeah, totally. Just about as much as you think about me.” 
His eyes darken and his mouth dips so it presses against the shell of her ear, “Then you must see me every time you are in bed with someone because you are the only person I imagine when I’m cumming. And I’m willing to prove it.”
His hand wraps around her wrist and she doesn’t protest as he leads her through the busy party to an unoccupied bathroom. He slams the door, locking it before pushing her forward so her clothed breasts press against the counter. His hard-on digs into her bum. He unbuttons her shirt so she can see his toned abs through the mirror. She says nothing whilst he grabs the bottom of her dress and pulls it off. The bulge of her stomach that is revealed makes her want to shy away from him. She has seen the other girls he has slept with before and she doesn’t have anything in common with them. He tsks, “Don’t do that, Fireball. I want you to see every sexy part of yourself while I fuck you dumb.” Her hair is in his grasp and he yanks her head back so it is beside his. He kisses the spot below her left ear. She gasps when his other hand goes down to her thong and he rips it off. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spots him shoving the used item into his back pocket. His thumb finds her clit and he begins to rub it clockwise. Their eyes meet in the mirror. “See this. This is what I imagine every single time I come,” he mumbles, speeding up the pace of his finger until she cries out that she is coming.
He watches her with pride as she recuperates from her high. She decides to provoke him, “I don’t believe you.” His nostrils flare and he tugs on her hair a little hard so his mouth can drop to her neck. He begins to nibble on her skin. “You want to play, then I’ll play.” He uses one hand to remove his jeans and his boxers, gripping his large length. She watches with hooded eyes as he pumps cock. He gathers some of her cum between her legs and smears it across his dick. She bites her bottom lip in desire. She catches his smirk from the side of her eye. 
He steps forward and the tip of his penis flicks against her entrance. He teases her for a bit, chuckling when she whines at him to do something. He obeys her command and slams into her at full speed. His thrusts are fast and harsh, hitting every spot inside of her that she needs. She lets out tiny squeals at every jerk forward. “I don’t know why you can’t believe that I think about you. I mean look at you,” he orders. His chin motions to the mirror and she observes her reflection. “Every single part of you is a work of art and I’ll be damned that you can’t see it.” She can’t form any words, too focused on the pleasure he is providing her. His hand goes back to her bud and he rubs it in synch with the movement of his hips. Her toes curl in her heels. God, she hates and loves that he knows what he is doing. “Aww. Is my dick so good that you can’t think of anything to say? It’s okay, I’ll fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you’ll be able to recognize your beauty. I’ll have to admit it once you see how adorable our kids are,” he teases. Her walls clenches around him and he takes notice. “Hmm. You like that idea, don’t you? It’s okay, Fireball. I always knew you were a beautiful slut inside.” She reaches back and shoves her fingers in his mouth, “Shut up would you, I’m trying to imagine Zac Efron.”
Rafe lets out a breathy laugh and grabs her left ankle to place it on the counter, allowing him to be deeper inside of her. Her breasts bounce in a way that hurts a little as he brings her closer to the edge. “He won’t ever get to see you like this, Fireball. This is my privilege and if I have to fuck a cuteass baby into you so that gets the message across, then I will.” He accentuates his next sentences with a thrust each. “Only I get to have my head between these thick thighs.” Thrusts. “Only I get to grip these soft hips.” Thrust. “Only I get to call your stunning self mine.” She moans at his words, feeling herself tighten with each promise. “Repeat what I said,” he commands and she does. Her release is brought during her repetition and she collapses against the smooth counter. 
She pants with her cheek stuck against the marble. His dick spasms inside of her and his cum stains her gummy walls. He leans down so his chest is pressed against her back. “So, who am I to you?” he questions in a pant. She gives him a tired smile, “Mr.Right.” 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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imaginariaarbor · 2 years
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k8luvsu · 2 months
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“ are you jealous? “
ft. Nanami Kento (from JJK)
plot: f!reader is gifted a bouquet of flowers, from someone that’s not Nanami Kento (your boyfriend)
Nanami Kento x f!reader
comfort / fluff
warnings: f!reader being called “love”, “darling”, “baby”, there’s physical affection
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Nanami Kento would understand, you’re perfect, you’re divine, words really can’t express your beauty in and out. You deserve all the flowers in the world, of course someone else would admire her asides from him. So why can’t he get over that fact? Why is he so bothered by the fact that you were gifted flowers? Maybe because that’s his thing. Maybe because you’re his, you’re his lover. He can’t bear the thought of someone else sending you flowers..
He finally had the courage to confront you, to communicate.
“Love?” He murmured quietly as you sat next to him, your head on his shoulder. The brightness of the TV’s screen reflecting in your eyes as you looked up at him. “Hm?”, you responded.
He cleared his throat, trying to not make it awkward, but it probably already is, “Well, see.. uhm..”, he uttered shyly, you nodded as a gesture for him to continue. “I don’t like the fact.. that.. that someone is sending you flowers that’s not me.”, he finally confessed. You make a small smile, in your point of view, it was very obvious, how the past few days he kept sending you your favorite flowers in a bouquet with a short letter attached to it which was written by him, how he’s being more protective than usual, how he’s expressing love and affection in so many ways than before.
He’s trying to prove to you that he’s the only man who can gift you beautiful flowers, he wants to be the only man for you. To be the man. He can’t bear of the thought that one day, someone will replace him in taking care of you and loving you. No. It just has to be him, no one will ever understand how he’s in love with you, obsessed with you, head over heels for you. Which is why, he has to be the man to give you flowers and spoil you.
“Ken, are you jealous?” You giggle, those gorgeous eyes of yours staring into his, if only you could see the faint blush on his cheeks, “Well, what if I am? I’m the only man who can give you flowers, my darling.” He grumbled and looked away, too embarrassed with the fact he’s actually talking about his jealousy towards something like this. “I know, I know,”, you pause, “can you look at me, Kento?” you said in a sweet tone which he can never say no to, your index finger was under his jaw, its impossible not to resist you. With a sigh of defeat, he looks at you with his eyes that has love for you, and only you.
“The flowers you give me are the only ones I’ll accept, I can’t promise you that the anonymous person who sent me those flowers will stop what they’re doing, but I want you to know that I won’t accept it. M’kay? The bouquets of flowers you gift me are unique— sure, other bouquets will have a small card, but your bouquets are the only ones with actual letters attached to it, that’s how I know its from you.” You tell him with a soft voice, placing your hand on top of his and rubbing your thumb on the back of his palm to reassure him. He sighs once more and replies, “You always know what to say, baby.”, he smiles slightly, placing a few kisses on your forehead and hair.
BONUS:
“If something as a different guy sending me flowers makes you jealous, what if Gojo-san sends me flowers?” You tease him with a mischievous grin
“I just hope I won’t go to jail for what’ll happen next, of course, I’ll just have to come up with a plan secretly and somehow not get caught—“ He replied with a hum, yet you could see his eyebrows furrow as he drinks his cup of coffee
“Kento! You wouldn’t,” You gasped dramatically and mockingly, but there’s a smile hidden underneath.
“Well… Gojo knows better than to do anything to or with you, I don’t care if he’s the strongest, he can go to other girls,” He chuckled and smirked
“Fine, fine. Whatever. Can we watch Netflix now, pleasee?” You plead him, pouting as you cling onto him
“Of course, darling. Anything you want.” He kissed the back of your hand and gave you the remote with the handsomest smile.
THE END
reblogs and likes are much appreciated, thank you for reading !! <3
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umnitsa · 7 months
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Dark Room
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Summary: There's a dark room somewhere in the QZ, where people desperate for some human contact meet each other for some anonymous sex. The Miller Brothers decide to enjoy it, to your pleasure.
A/N: This is just porn. Absolute, shameless porn, I hope you enjoy it. Well, I enjoyed writing this so much I'll probably write more parts. <3 Banner from @cafekitsune
Written with unholy eagerness and no proofreading!
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader x Tommy Miller
CW: Sex, piv, anal fingering, no condoms (this is a loving fantasy and I didn't want to write them, but hey, please do not do that!)
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“I can’t believe I’m letting ya drag me into this.” Joel muttered under his breath, his hands on his pockets.
“It’s a good way to blow up steam, and I know you feel weird about paying for sex.” Tommy shrugged, bumping his shoulder against Joel. “It’s a dark room. People go in and fuck in the dark, that’s it. I prefer that to glory holes, it’s less awkward.”
“I can’t believe ya…”
“Don’t be a prude.” Tommy interrupted, chuckling. “We’re healthy men in the fucking apocalypse. There are girls inside there, and they want sex as much as I do, why shouldn’t I take advantage of the situation? Give them what they want, and have my fill?”
Joel shook his head, chuckling low. Tommy was right, it wasn’t a bad idea. No fuss, no mess, no names. Just an encounter in the dark, and some relief between adults. Joel found himself hoping to at least get a good blowjob from this.
Tommy guided him through the dark streets, and into a building.
The hidden speakeasy had low lights, a soft music coming from a corridor, blocked by a dark fabric. Tommy greeted the bartender, exchanged a few words.
“It’s in there.” Tommy pointed at the fabric. “My friend told me it’s slow today, but there should be someone inside.”
Joel nodded, awkwardly. Tommy placed a glass of some indistinctive alcohol, and Joel downed it quickly. He wanted this to be over.
“What if I don’t want it?” Joel asked, shifting on his feet.
“Just step away and leave the room.” Tommy said, matter of fact, placing a second glass in front of Joel. “Wait me here.”
“Ya so sure ya’ll get some.” Joel chuckled, drinking the second shot, shaking his head.
“I’m just not afraid of admittin’ I’m horny, desperate and I just can’t stand my dear hand anymore.” Tommy shrugged, drinking from his glass. “C’mon.”
The sudden shift of luminosity blinded Joel for a second, making him blink and grab Tommy’s arm. As he adjusted to the darkness, he realized the room wasn’t that big, long benches against two walls. The music was a bit louder inside the room, just enough to discourage conversation. The slick sounds of a blowjob came from somewhere to the left of Tommy, making Joel suddenly interested in the proceedings. Tommy moved straight to the shadow standing alone in the corner, Joel in tow.
You smiled, as they entered; the flash of light as their entered giving you a glimpse of their faces. Your friend caught the first person that came in, with your blessings. You didn’t feel anything when he came in, but now, those two? You want them.
You felt a hand on your hip, and the first one leaned, until his lips were over your ear.
“I’m Tommy, this is Joel.” His voice was soft, gentle. You shivered, as he brushed his lips against your ear. “Just so you know what to scream.” Tommy’s hand slid down your arm, holding your hand gently. He placed your hand on his chest, the flannel soft under your fingertips. He dragged your hand down, until your fingers hooked on his pants.
Joel shifted, awkwardly; you extended your hand in the dark, landing your palm on a large, bulky chest. You moved your fingers, sneaking them between the buttons, just to find an undershirt.
You grabbed their shirts, tugging on them until the men were side by side, twin shadows standing over you. Kneeling, you nuzzled Tommy’s legs, as he opened his pants, fast. Your mouth descended on him, one hand on his thigh.
Tommy’s fingers combed your hair, gently, until he cupped the back of your head. He stayed still, scratching your scalp as you started to suck. You were able to hear his moan under the music, as your tongue slid around the head.
“So good.” Tommy shuddered, grabbing Joel’s shoulder, his knees suddenly weak from your suckling.
Your hand slid over Joel’s thigh in the darkness; he tensed, as you rubbed higher, along his cock, feeling it harden fast under your hand.
The music was loud, but not too loud; the slurping sounds of your eager mouth were audible, if they focused enough. Your free hand insistently rubbed Joel through his pants, your fingertips tracing the head resting on his hip. You grabbed him tightly and moaned, which made Tommy grab your hair and thrust slightly forward.
“Jesus, woman.” Joel muttered under his breath, opening his pants quickly. He wrapped your fingers around his thick cock, squeezing over your hand with his massive one. “Goddamn.”
Tommy chuckled, and pulled from your mouth. He leaned and patted your cheek ever so gently, holding one of your wrists with one hand.
“Go on, babe, give my brother here a little sugar.” He wrapped your fingers around his cock and thrusted gently, your saliva serving as lube.
Joel bucked into your mouth the moment he felt your tongue against his cock.
“Fuck.” Joel exhaled as you moved your lips and tongue around the head, suckling. His big hand cradled your face, his fingertips caressing under your jaw.
You moaned, his hips jolted forward.
Tommy released your hand and crouched beside you.
“Ass up, babe. I wanna taste you. Keep your mouth on him.” His soft voice echoed close to your ear. You whimpered softly, unfolding your legs and trying to stand up. Tommy tugged on your skirt, making a happy sound when he realized you were not wearing panties.
Joel’s hands moved, keeping you steady as you stood up, your lips around his cock. You grabbed his hips; he leaned, cupping one of your breasts, as he cupped the back of your head.
Tommy pushed his face against your pussy, from behind. He grunted softly as he felt your wetness against his face, nuzzling until his lips brushed against your clit.
He mumbled softly, his lips brushing against your folds; you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, gushing against Tommy’s lips. Joel tugged on your hair, turning your face up. Joel kissed you, intensely, slowly, his hands sliding against you, bringing your hands to hold his cock, while Tommy pressed his face into you, suckling on your clit eagerly.
Tommy’s thick fingers slid into you, making you moan against Joel’s mouth. The fingers, wet, moved to rub circles over your asshole. His fingers pushed into your ass, you could feel Tommy spitting into your hole, two fingers gently splitting you open. You whined, Tommy’s thumb sliding over your clit.
Joel moved to speak into your ear, his soft beard scratching against your cheek. You whimpered softly against his cheek, close to his left ear.
“Tell me, what is he doin’?” Joel asked, nibbling on your ear, both your hands on Joel’s cock.
“His fingers…” You whined, tightening your fingers around Joel’s cock. “He’s fingerfucking my ass.”
“…and you’re enjoyin’ yourself. Dirty little thing.” Joel kissed your cheek, then slid his lips over yours. “Do ya wanna take us both at the same time?”
You whined, Joel’s low voice vibrating through you. Tommy sensed your spasming and suckled on your clit, pulling your orgasm from you, making your whole body shake.
“Shhh, babe.” Tommy muttered against your cunt, feeling your strength melt from your body, your legs weakening, fast. “Look at that.” Tommy pushed his tongue against your pussy, moaning as your muscles spasmed, in the last waves of your orgasm. “She’s gonna need to sit, Joel.”
Joel chuckles, low, hugging your body against his, giving you support as Tommy stands up. For a moment, the three of you stand still considering the next step. You heard Joel’s breathing deeply, his arms around you.
You guided them both to the bench, unwilling to let go just yet. Tommy grunted, as he bumped his knee. You giggled, placing his hand on your hip, so he could feel you bending forward, one knee on the bench. You pushed Joel to sit in front of you, balancing yourself on your forearms, crawling over him, until you felt his cock, warm and moist, against your cheek.
With one swift movement, you sucked him into your mouth, as far as you can, pushing your hips high, against Tommy’s hands. He quickly understood your silent begging, the head of his cock notching into your hole. He pushed in slowly, grabbing your hips, squeezing your flesh, a string of curses coming from his lips. You whimpered, pushing back, as he picked up speed. His fingertips teased your asshole.
“Wish I had some lube, so I could fuck your slutty ass.” Tommy whispered in your ear, making you squeeze him. “Fuck, you’re dirty, babe. I wanna come down your throat.”
You nod, pulling Joel from your mouth and kissing him gently before standing. Joel’s hands caressed your body as you turned your back to him, pushing Tommy to sit.
You felt Joel’s fingers sliding between your folds, slowly, exploring. You felt like he was mapping you with his fingers, and it made you shiver, eyes rolling back. Tommy held your head and thrusted forward, his cock almost too much; it felt as if he was teasing your gag reflex. It felt surprisingly good, you could only whine. Tommy’s cock spasmed between your lips, his hips thrusting unevenly. He was close.
Joel rubbed lazy circles over your clit; your legs were so tense you trembled under his touch. Tommy tugged on your hair, trying to signal he was going to come, giving you space if you wanted to pull back. You were so lost in lust you just wanted to drink him; so you sucked. He spilled into your mouth, with a shuddering moan that vibrated through his body.
“Fuck.” Tommy muttered, breathless, sitting in front of you. He adjusted himself into his pants, quickly, then touched your hands, caressing up your arms, until his hands were back on your hair. He leaned, so you could hear him. “Good girl… So good to me.”
You nuzzled him, moaning softly, until you felt Joel’s arm wrapping around your waist, propping you up. You felt his cock lining up, then pushing steadily into you. Tommy licked your neck, his fingers on your nipples.
“Not gonna last, honey… ‘m sorry.” Joel growled, deep hard thrusts slamming his hips against your ass. He thrusted just right, hammering that spot that made you explode. You felt an exquisite agony, and then fire shot through your body, splashing against his thighs, drenching his jeans. “Jesus, woman…” Joel repeated himself, in awe, then pushed himself from you, his cock pulsing, come falling on the floor between his feet.
You crashed into Tommy, your legs weak. He chuckled, adjusting your skirt, then hugged you tight against his chest. You closed your eyes, sighing.
“Thank you, babe.” Tommy said, against your forehead, caressing your body. His big, large hands rubbed and squeezed, heavy and soothing. “Haven’t felt this good in a while.”
“We should keep her.” Joel said, just loudly enough to be heard, after he sat beside Tommy, his hands caressing your ankles.
“See? He likes you and he doesn’t like anybody.” Tommy chuckled in your ear, as Joel’s hands rubbed and squeezed your legs, massaging you.
“I don’t know.” Reality came crashing over you. Just strangers in a dark room, who shared a moment of anonymous pleasure. Even if they introduced themselves.
“Imagine what we can do with some more time, some privacy and more comfort.” Tommy tempted you, his voice sweet. He kissed your lips, holding your chin, a lazy, sensual, slow kiss.
“I will.” You started to stand up, trying to distance yourself from the attraction you already felt for them both; good orgasms tended to do that to people, and you just had a couple of great ones. Of course you wanted more. You wanted to see them, and hear them clearly. But you couldn’t deal with the complications. You just wanted the relief.
Joel seemed to be accustomed to the dark; he stood up with you, his hands moving up your body, until he wrapped his arm around your waist. He kissed you too, deeply, his dominance making you whimper.
“Can we meet here again?” Joel asked directly, his grave voice making you tremble. “I would come back for you. We would.”
“Same day next week.” You said into his ear, unsure if you are even going to come back. Something deep inside you wanted the chance to find them again, though, and you just couldn’t help yourself.
“Lookin’ forward to it.” Joel kissed your neck and released you. You could see your friend was still busy, so you just ran out of the room, towards the bathroom, to wait for her.
Part of you hoped they were too disoriented with afterglow to see you through the flash of light as you pulled the fabric, deep down, you wanted them to find you somehow.
You decided it would be worse if you waited in the bathroom, you could find a dark corner. Your paranoia was spoiling your afterglow and you really deserved some pleasure in this fucked up life.
You cleaned yourself quickly, going back to the bar. You were lucky to get the perfect table. Your curiosity kept your eyes at the entrance of the dark room, in hopes they hadn’t already left. You couldn’t deny your curiosity.
It didn’t take long for them to emerge together. Joel was the bearded one, older, rugged. He had an impressive profile and a perpetual scowl, that made his lips look pouty. His hair, salt and pepper, sticked everywhere. Tommy was younger, his hair darker, slicked back. He looked like an angel, brown, expressive eyes and thick lips. They really looked like brothers.
Both gorgeous.
You felt an irresistible pull towards them, consequences be damned.
They moved slowly, wide steps, relaxed only in the way someone well fucked can look.
You knew right there you would come back for them.
459 notes · View notes
talesofesther · 1 year
Text
love the way you love me
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Summary: You navigate through a relationship with Wednesday, slowly discovering the tenderness of her love.
A/N: This is a valentine's day special. It's not even valentine's day where I live but Tumblr got me in the mood for it, so I wrote one of the most heartfelt stories I've ever done I think. Soft!Wednesday because I said so. <3
Masterlist
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"Wednesday," you gasp. It falls on deaf ears.
Your eyes are closed. You can feel surprisingly warm hands sneaking under your shirt, lightly clawing at the skin there.
"Wednesday," you try again, the words are muffled against burgundy lips.
Your hands can't help but bury themselves in silky black hair.
She's addictive. She'll be the death of you.
And she's going to love every minute of it.
"You talk too much," Wednesday whispers against your mouth, her lips brushing yours.
You kiss the words, causing your nose to bump into hers before you pull away, "Weems will have my head if I'm late again today because of you."
If you try to tell this secret to anyone, they won't believe you. In some sense, you love it. She feels yours to keep, only yours.
She pulls back, hazy dark eyes piercing into your soul. All lightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. She's divine.
"A well-worth sacrifice, don't you think?" Wednesday ducks her head, partly hiding herself behind her bangs after she says it.
A year ago, when she first stepped foot in Nevermore, she promised she wouldn't get attached or fall in love.
For a little over two months, her growing feelings for you have been proving her wrong.
Hidden behind closed doors and dark corners, you managed to get her cold heart beating harder than ever.
She despises it, and at the same time, can't get enough of it.
You bring a hand up, your thumb brushing away the smudged lipstick on the corner of Wednesday's lips.
She leans the tiniest bit toward your touch against her own volition, her nails making half-moons on your skin.
"You're a bad influence on me, Addams."
You can feel the shape of her smirk under your fingertips.
"It's what I do best."
Once a year, Nevermore's hallways gain a burst of color to them. What usually is all dark wood and grey stones, takes on extra shades of pink and crimson red; paper hearts are stuck to the walls and roses cover the gardens of the school. All in time to strike a cupid's arrow through the student's hearts for valentine's day.
You walk beside Bianca on the quad, smiling softly at the pink ribbons that decorate the outside area.
"I think I already regret offering to help with the roses," Bianca complains with a huff, "valentine's day is only tomorrow and we already have more than one hundred of them to deliver."
Her frustration makes you chuckle, an 'I told you so' lingers on your tongue yet you refrain from saying it. "Look on the bright side, you're helping to spread the spirit of love," you tease.
The siren scoffs. She comes to a stop in front of a red table, 'Nevermore's roses' is written on the bulletin board just above it in cut-out pink letters.
It's a tradition as much as it is a popularity contest in the school. Every year, students would send their crushes a red rose; some are bold enough to write a note declaring their love, some prefer to remain anonymous.
Bianca received more than ten roses last year. You got one, but Enid's proud smile had let you know it was just her attempting to soothe your heart; not a secret admirer.
"When are you gonna tell me to deliver your rose?" It's Bianca's turn to tease you, a grin playing on her glossy lips.
"Not today, that's for sure," you cross your arms over your chest, gaze skimming over the quad until it lands on a certain Addams girl; she's glaring at the colorful ribbons that adorn the walls as if they just committed unspeakable crimes.
You find yourself unwillingly smiling just at the sight of her.
Bianca catches your staring, she leans in closer to your ear, "I bet she would swoon."
You push her away, giggles escaping your lips and heat coming to your cheeks, "shut up."
Bianca joins in on your laughter, both of you unaware of watchful dark eyes on you from the other side of the quad.
It's in times like these, that Wednesday realizes that you've softened her.
Her pinkie is hooked with yours. You gently swing your joined hands back and forth. Your eyes are mostly focused on the sky, on the trees of the park, or on the buildings you see as you walk through Jericho's streets.
You drag Wednesday with you when you bend down to pat a dog or walk a little quicker to point out a pretty bird. No matter what, you don't let go of her.
Wednesday should be annoyed. In the beginning, she wanted to be. But she's not, and as the days go by, she's made her peace with the fact that you have the power to soften her.
She has never craved someone's presence, until she had a taste of yours. It's something Wednesday will take to the grave with her, but she secretly cherishes these little moments.
You end up stopping at the Weathervane for coffee as a light drizzle starts falling outside.
You sit down at the booth first, and Wednesday hesitates for a beat before deciding to sit beside you and not in front of you.
She orders coffee. You order hot chocolate. It's peaceful.
After you take the first sip, Wednesday feels your pointer finger tapping her thigh, and maybe that's why you're her exception. You don't push, you don't force, you're willing to love her the way she likes to be loved.
And no one can love Wednesday the way that you do.
It's new, and her chest still tightens in anticipation; but Wednesday turns her hand anyway, palm up, telling you it's okay.
Your fingers thread between hers, intertwining your hands together in a tender grip. Your thumb brushes her skin, and you lift her hand to your lips, placing a feather-like kiss on her knuckles.
Wednesday feels the warmth of your breath.
She loves to be loved by you.
When Wednesday is just a sip away from finishing her coffee, she finally breaks the silence; "what were you and Bianca talking about earlier?"
"Hm?" You turn to look at her, not sure what she's referring to.
Wednesday gulps down the remains of the bitterness of coffee still on her tongue, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable under your gaze. "Today in the quad, you were laughing."
"Oh," you recall with a faint smile, "it was nothing, we were just talking about the valentine's day tradition."
Right. Wednesday furrows her brows in thought, subconsciously squeezing your hand. That ridiculous tradition.
She never cared for it. Valentine's day was pathetic in her eyes and any traditions that came with it usually made her sick to her stomach.
But this year there's a break in the pattern. You.
"Do you care for it?" Wednesday finds herself asking.
"Valentine's day?" You purse your lips, shaking your head softly, "kinda? Not much. Bianca does though, and she thinks I should too."
Wednesday inhales sharply, you see her blinking a couple of times. Too many emotions swim behind her eyes for you to put a finger in any of them.
She can be fragile sometimes. It's rare, but it happens. She's been hurt once, the fear still lingers like a poorly healed scar. You think that's the reason why whatever you are to each other, doesn't have a name yet.
It's that look in Wednesday's eyes that makes you sneak out the night before valentine's day. You don't care about labels, but you do care that Wednesday knows what she means to you.
You find yourself going to the greenhouse, praying to every higher entity that no one sees you or Weems would never let you live this down. You rummage through the many rows of plants for the one that always reminds you of the raven-haired girl.
Next, you find Bianca, she opens her dorm room door for you with an annoyed tilt to her brows. She's in her pajamas and was clearly ready to go to bed. But this can't wait.
"Sorry," you utter quietly, sweaty hands tight around your flower, "but I think you were right."
Bianca's gaze shifts from you to the flower you're holding; Wednesday's name is tied around it with a black ribbon and hurried writing on paper so it doesn't get mixed up when the students go to deliver all the anonymous roses at the end of class. A knowing smirk comes to Bianca's lips as she rolls her eyes endearingly.
"Though, I think this one would be more fitting," you can feel heat coming up to your cheeks as you extend the flower to her.
It'll break the tradition, but she's worth it.
The next morning couldn't have dawned soon enough. It should be a day like any other, but you can't help the fluttery on your chest as you skip down the stairs of your dorm.
Wednesday is waiting for you just beside the doors that lead to the quad, in your own little private space, just shy of meeting the curious eyes of your peers. Her hands are buried in her pockets as she leans on the wall, her leather backpack resting by her feet. She straightens her posture when her eyes find yours.
You think she feels it too, the shift in the mood.
You stop in front of her, taking in her neatly made braids, the tie that's just a little loose around her neck, and her big doe eyes. Your fingers itch to hold her. "Hi Wednesday," you breathe in adoration.
The corner of Wednesday's lips tilt up in the ghost of a smile, her nimble fingers reach out to hold your jaw so she can press a gentle kiss to your lips.
Contrary to what others might think, her love is always tender. Your hands find her waist, tugging her body closer to yours in an embrace as you reciprocate her affection by pressing your lips firmly to hers; and you feel her melt against you.
And it's in the way that you are able to strip her of her defenses, that Wednesday sees her lingering piece of hesitance; the reason she avoids naming what you have together. Saying things out loud means making them real.
If she tells you just what you do to her, she's allowing you to break her if you ever leave.
But maybe you'll prove her wrong on that too, and she hates to admit that part of her longs for it.
It's after lunch that Wednesday seeks you out again, a bit of urgency tugging at her heartstrings quickens her steps.
She's able to hear her own heartbeat in her ears as she has a staring contest with the door that leads to your room. Her skin is hot and prickly under her clothes because of how fast she walked, or maybe it's because of what she's thinking about doing.
Three soft knocks sound on your door, and she waits with bated breath.
You turn the doorknob to see Wednesday on the other side, she has one hand behind her back and the other holds a Black Dahlia; the one you choose.
You bite back a smile.
"Bianca delivered this to me after class," Wednesday tells you, raising a brow, "told me to be nice."
Her tone gets you chuckling, "for the record, I didn't ask her to say that," you tell her.
Wednesday hesitates — she seems to do that a lot around you — her lips hovering before any words come out. The orange light of the hallway is casting a golden glow on her. "So it was you?"
You nod timidly, gesturing for her to come in. When she does, you close the door to your dorm, and the familiar bubble of intimacy finally settles around you.
"I know you don't care about today," you start, your hands already slick with perspiration. "But I wanted you to know how I feel anyway."
Wednesday catches the hidden words in the way you're looking at her; the 'you're it for me, it's you and no one else' that goes unsaid.
No one has ever looked at her the way that you do.
A beat passes, a beat where, for the first time, she hopes you can see what she doesn't say too. Because what Wednesday feels for you, she doesn't feel for anyone else.
She stiffly extends her hand to you — the one that's been behind her back since she arrived — holding out a little sunflower for you to take. She refuses to meet your eyes, her usually pale cheeks and the tip of her ears now burning a soft shade of pink.
Wednesday clears her throat, clearly bothered that you're not taking the flower and she has to say it; "I don't need other people to deliver mine."
Your heart melts. You both broke tradition.
Gentle as ever, you take the flower from her, your eyes crinkling on the sides because of your smile. You bring it to your nose to feel the perfume, humming appreciatively.
You take a step closer to her, your socked feet bumping her boots. You hear the catch on her breath when you push aside a few strands of her fringe, your fingers lingering on her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"You're growing soft, Wednesday Addams," you had to tease.
A glare is thrown your way, her features hardening the slightest bit. It gets you smiling more, you lean up to plant a kiss on her forehead and delight in the fact that she tries to follow when you pull away. "Thank you," you whisper.
Just say it. Wednesday urges herself, shooting down her ego and the unpleasing twist in her stomach at the prospect of voicing her wishes. She grasps your free hand with hers then.
"I would-" the words feel heavy on Wednesday's tongue, but she forces them out before any second thoughts could take them from her;
"I'd like to call you mine… If you'd like to call me yours too?"
And now you're just looking at her wide-eyed, your grip on her hand becoming slack. You're not speaking, you're not moving. Wednesday doubts you're even breathing.
She shifts uncomfortably in her stance, feeling smaller by the second under your eyes. It's unnerving.
"You don't want this," Wednesday mumbles, and she despises the way her voice cracks in the middle of her sentence.
In the same heartbeat, you finally answer; "I want this," your hold on her hand returns and you tug her closer still, "I really do."
Wednesday blinks a couple of times until her eyes can find a place to focus on your face. She gulps; "don't make me regret it." It's supposed to be a threat, but it sounds more like a plea.
Your forehead rests against hers, her fringe tickling your skin as you feel her soft breathing ghost over your lips.
"I would never."
Wednesday feels more than hears your words over her lips. And she believes you.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @simp4wanda26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @thenextdawn @trishatheotaku
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munsonluhvr · 4 months
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THE CANDY GRAM CONSPIRACY (DAY #1: LOVE LETTER EVENT)
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contents: SFW (light cussing). Steve, your secret admirer, sends you a candy gram with a compelling message. word count - 2k
notes: happy first day of the love letter event. I'm soo excited to share this, and all the other fics written for this event, with you. happy love week! - Helen
love letter event masterlist
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“You’re an idiot, Steve.” Dustin Henderson says, shaking his head as he stands with Steve at the candy gram table. “She’s going to be totally freaked out if she gets a message from someone anonymous and you think she’s going to want to show up to the restaurant? Dumbest way to waste ten dollars.” Steve fumbles with his pockets, searching for the paper bills he made sure he brought to school for this exact occasion. Finally, Steve grasps the money in his pocket, pulling it out swiftly and handing it to the girl behind the table. “But she’ll find out it’s just me, I mean I think she already knows I like her.” 
“Steve, you’re completely missing the point.” Dustin says. 
The girl running the candy gram table puts Steve’s money in the metal lockbox, taking a pen and a note card to give to Steve. As she listens the two boys converse, she can’t help but roll her eyes. “Write a little message if you would like. It’ll go with the candy gram.” 
“It’s going to work, Dustin, you just watch.” Steve says, glancing at Dustin. Steve bends down, strands of his hair falling across his forehead. He sticks out his tongue between his lip, captured by concentration. 
From afar, I watch you shine,  In every step, a dance divine.  Though hidden deep, my feelings soar,  In this secret, I adore you more. 
Your presence, a joy that lights up my day, Secretly admiring in every single way.  So, here’s a small poem, a whisper, a sign, Of a love that’s deep, and ever so fine. 
Love, Your Secret Admirer (Meet me at Enzo’s, tonight, at 9)
Steve leans back, positively satisfied by his poetry skills. He hands the small notecard to Dustin who takes it in his hand, his eyes pinched in analyzation. After a minute, Dustin drops his hand, his face expressing how impressed he was; he hands the card back to Steve. “I didn’t know you could write poetry.”  
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You slump in your desk chair, your elbow resting on the tabletop, your chin resting in your hand. You watch as the candy gram girls pass by your desk, showcasing that you’re one class closer to realizing you were an idiot for thinking Steve Harrington would buy you a candy gram. 
It was your fourth class, only two periods left in the day, and you had only received three candy grams: one from your parents, the other two from your best friends. Of course, you were grateful for the ones you got, you loved the thoughtful gifts from your parents and friends, but was it so terrible to wish Steve would demonstrate that he feels the same way as you do? 
You and Steve were friends, of some sort, existing in an ambivalent grey area. Steve and you had experienced many ‘close calls:’ your lips brushing his once or twice, a couple kisses here and there, and many, just so many, instances of touches on each other’s arms and hands that lingered for a little too long. However, Steve never told you he liked you, never made the effort to ask you out. 
You’re zoning out in class, whispers going on behind you as girls receive candy grams from their boyfriends or friends distracting you from your geometry class. Just as your mind is going around the bend to being mad at Steve, about to promise to never talk to him again, a presence next to you jolts you out of your mind. A girl with long blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, a chubby cheek smile on her face, places a tiny, plush teddy bear holding a small bag of conversation heart candies on your desk. “It came with this,” the girl says, placing an envelope onto your desk as well. She saunters off quickly, squeaking ‘bye’ to your math teacher, closing the door behind her.
You sit still, your eyes trained on the teddy bear that stares back at you. It’s white, pink hearts scattered across it’s body. It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 
For a moment, you’re excited again, the potential of the bear being sent by Steve sending your hopes soaring up to the sky. You tear the flap away from the body of the envelope, sliding out the small note card. Your eyes scan the page, flying down to the bottom to find Steve’s signature – except it’s not there; ‘Love, your Secret Admirer. Meet me at Enzo’s, tonight, at 9’ is in its place. You frown. You look above the signature line, your eyes reading a poem scribbled across the page. Your heart swells, pulsing with toothachingly sweet emotions. Who wrote this? 
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As you put your textbooks into your locker, exchanging them out for the textbooks for your next class, your best friends Rena and Steph are bent over the secret admirer note. “Listen, if you don’t want whoever wrote this poem because you’re stuck on Steve, I’ll take him.” Rena says, shaking her head as she begins to read the poem for the third time. 
“And he’s taking you to Enzo’s. My dad told my mom he’d take her there for their wedding anniversary, my mom got super dressed up and everything, and he made them leave and go to Benny’s Burgers instead because it was too expensive.” Steph says, glancing up at you. “Aren’t you curious to find out who sent you the candy gram?” 
You shrug, closing the door of your locker. “I guess but I just don’t understand Steve. We have all this tension between us, but he won’t ask me out. Do you think he’s seeing someone else?” You ask, frowning. 
“Who cares? You have someone writing you poetry and you’re giving a fuck about Steve?” Rena says with a scoff. “That head of hair lost his chance, now you have someone confessing their love for you through poetry. Say ‘Sayonara Steve’ already.”
You pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Steph wraps an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to her, while shooting a look at Rena for her abrasiveness. “How about this. Rena and I will come over later and help you get ready for your date – it’ll be fun, I promise.” 
You nod, leaning into your friend. “Come over early, I’ll need a total makeover.” 
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“I wonder who it could be?” Rena says, a fistful of your hair in her hand, a brush in her other hand. You sit at your vanity table, your hands resting on your lap as Rena strokes the brush through your hair, dividing sections of your hair to begin styling it. “Maybe it’s that Gareth guy, he’s always staring at you from across the cafeteria.” 
Steph laughs from across the room, her body stretched out across your bed, one of your magazines in her hands. “Gareth wouldn’t have the balls to write poetry and send it to a girl.” 
You sigh listening to your friends create conspiracies about who wrote the note, making fictitious reasons for the secret admirer to go such lengths to ask you out. You were curious too, your stomach twisting with anticipation. What if you didn’t like who the secret admirer was once his identity is revealed. “Are we sure this isn’t a prank?” You ask, beginning to worry. 
“That would be one expensive prank; I had to empty my piggy bank to send you both candy grams.” Rena mutters, beginning to put pins in your hair. 
Steph hums. “It’s not a prank, y/n, just someone who’s trying to be unique with asking you out to dinner.” 
You sigh again, staring at your reflection. You notice your pout that’s settled on your mouth, the disappointment of no candy gram from Steve bumming you out. Maybe this was a sign to let Steve go, allow others into your life. You take a deep breath, deciding to change your attitude. 
“What do you guys think I should wear?” 
At the same time, Rena and Steph begin to ramble, Steph getting up from her seat on your bed to flip through the hangers in your closet. Rena steps away from you, looking at her work on your hair: your hair is half up, half down, framing your face perfectly. She hums, satisfied, and picks up some of your makeup on your vanity. “I think you should wear that pink dress; you know the one that goes to your mid-thigh, the little bows on the shoulder.”
 “This one?” Steph says, pulling the exact dress out of the closet. “It’s perfect, you have to wear it, y/n.” 
You look over your shoulder, smiling as you nod. “You’re right it’s perfect.” 
Nine o’clock comes around faster than you were prepared for, your friends climbing into Steph’s station wagon to drive you to Enzo’s. The ride over was short, bringing you passed downtown Hawkins, the dark streets illuminated by the lit-up streetlights. Your stomach twisted with anticipation and nervousness, the emotions rising up in your throat. In several minutes, Steph pulls up to the front of Enzo’s, the grand sign hanging above the restaurants entrance.
“Be brave!” Rena says, turning in the passenger seat to look at you in the backseat. “You look stunning, whoever it is will be blown away.” 
Steph turns to look at you too, an encouraging smile on her face. “Give whoever it is a chance, the poem was amazing, they might surprise you.” 
You nod, unlatching the car door. “Thank you guys for everything, I would never look this good if it weren’t for you both.” 
They laugh waving goodbye to you. You shut the car door behind you once you’re out, propelling yourself towards the restaurant door.  “Don’t forget to call us and tell us everything when you get home,” Rena exclaims, hanging out the passenger window. Steph begins to pull away from the building, Rena waving until she pulls herself back into the car. And you’re left alone. 
Your friend’s advice echo’s in your mind; ‘give whoever it is a chance.’ No matter who it is, you’re going to have a good time tonight, appreciating the kind gesture of a sweet poem and an amazing dinner at Enzo’s. Your friends had put a lot of effort to make you feel good about yourself, preparing you for such a unique situation. With one last deep breath, you pull the restaurant door open, immediately greeted by the mouthwatering smell of Italian food. 
The restaurant is dark, and busy, Valentine’s day proving to be one of their busiest days of the year. The tables are all crowded, the low hum of conversation passing through the building. There is a glow that illuminates the inside, candles lit at every table adding a soft, romantic essence. Your eyes scan the tables, in search of spotting a familiar face. Your fingers grasp each other, your digits squeezing together with nervousness. How will you ever find your secret admirer?
Just then, the room goes dark, your sight blinded by a pair of hands that cover your eyes. You didn’t know if you should scream or jaw your elbow backwards into the person that stands behind you. Your shoulders ease when a familiar voices murmurs into your ear. “Guess who?”  
You smile wide, spinning yourself around. Steve stands before you, wearing a crisp tux, his hair slicked back, a flower bouquet in his hand. “Steve?” you say, throwing your arms around him. “You sent me the candy gram?” 
Steve nods, his arms wrapping around your torso. “Were you hoping it was someone else?” 
You shake your head, leaning your body against him. “No, I was wishing it was you.” 
Steve leans back from your embrace, brushing the back of your hand across your cheekbone. “You look absolutely beautiful, y/n.” Steve says, his eyes taking in every inch of your face. “I should have asked you to be my girlfriend sooner, but I wanted it to be special. Asking on Valentine’s day seems cliché, but I liked the idea.” 
Your eyebrows raise, your mouth opening slightly. “T-To be your girlfriend?” 
Steve nods, flipping his hand over for the pad of his thumb to brush across your bottom lip. “Will you?” 
Leaning on the tip of your toes, you push your lips into Steve’s, doing away with all the ‘almost’ kisses you’ve had with him. “Of course, I will,” you murmur against his mouth. 
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stayteezdreams · 7 months
Text
And His Name Was Death {Part One}
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Summoned
Plot: What happens when you accidentally summon death himself, and he decides he doesn't want to leave?
{Part Two}
Pairing: Death!Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader
Requests: "I thought I saw something" + 'You meet Death himself, and he seems to have a crush on you.' + 'The creaking of an old door' + 'Accidentally summoning a demon while decorating'
Requested by: Anonymous; @tumbleboof and @amalialoved
A/n: yeah...I enjoyed writing these requests so much it turned into a series.
Warnings: Mildly suggestive content. Mentions of death (obviously)
Words: ~5.3k
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Joy radiated through you as you rifled through the various decorations you had picked up on your recent trip into town. You could never resist decorations, especially Halloween decorations.
Between the festive scented candles, candle holders, themed mugs, fake webs, and candy, your counter top was covered in your new purchases.
Your eyes drifted to the last bag as you delicately pulled it open. Lifting out the object wrapped in brown paper, you unwrapped. Smiling softly at the old book, you ran your fingers over it. It had clearly been heavily used and was obviously quite old. The cover was engraved with barely legible markings, in a language you guessed was Latin, or at least similar to it.
Flipping through the pages, your eyes scanned the various blocks of text you couldn't understand, as well as random sketched pictures ranging from plants, to weapons, and what you assume were various monsters.
When you had gone to the antique store, you didn't really intend to buy anything, but when you spotted the old book sitting on a shelf, somewhat hidden behind an old lock box, you felt almost drawn to it. For a moment it felt as though you recognized it, like it was yours, but obviously you had never seen it before.
When you picked it up, you couldn't ignore the desire to buy it that bubbled up, so you did just that. You convinced yourself it would be a good Halloween decoration, though it did cost more than the other decorations you had bought combined. Something you would be convincing yourself was a good idea for a while. Though you feared you would just end up regretting it later.
As you reached the last page of the book as you quickly flipped through it, you stopped as you saw two handwritten passages on the back cover. It was in ink but had obviously been written a long time ago.
You ran your finger over the top passage as you wondered what it was. It was written in another language, but you found yourself muttering the words out loud as best as you could.
When you finished the first passage, you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you and you closed your eyes, shaking your head softly as you opened them again. The dizziness passed, and you hummed to yourself. After a moment's thought, you figured it was because you hadn't eaten yet.
Your eyes drifted to the second passage, but before you could read it, you jolted as you heard a loud fluttering sound similar to wings coming from behind you. Looking back towards the hallway, you furrowed your brow.
'Did a bird get in?' You thought to yourself as you made your way cautiously towards where the noise had originated.
After checking every room and making sure no windows were open, you wandered back to the kitchen, no bird being found. You shook your head, thinking maybe it had just flown past the window and sounded like it was inside.
Your eyes locked on the book and you frowned, pausing in your steps. It was now shut, though you swore you hadn't closed it. As you walked back to the book, you felt goosebumps rise up your arms and neck.
Instead of opening it again, you set it up on the counter beside the cauldron candy bowl. After sparing it one more curious glance, you continued to set out the decorations, only stopping when there was a knock at your door. You grinned to yourself as you quickly padded towards the door, knowing your friends had arrived for an evening hangout.
One Halloween movie later, you all stretched and joked as Yeosang and Wooyoung argued over the next movie to be put it. San made his way to the kitchen to grab some more candy, and you heard him call out to you a moment later.
Looking back at him, you saw him assessing the old book, "What's this?"
You turned around and smiled, "Isn't it cool? I found it at an old antique shop. I thought it would make a cool decoration."
"It's creepy." Yesoang commented as he looked over to see what San had.
"That's the point." Wooyoung said with a scoff, causing Yeosang to glare at him.
Seeing San suddenly look back further into the house, you followed his line of sight. "What?"
He slowly looked back at you and shook his head a bit, "I thought I saw something."
You felt goosebumps rise up your arms again but ignored them. "I thought I heard something earlier, like a bird got in, but I couldn't find anything."
"Want me to look?"
"Sure." You said with a soft nod, watching as he made his way into the back of your house.
As you watched him disappear, you got an odd feeling in your stomach, like a knot starting to form. As you began to rise, feeling as though you should follow him, he came back out with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I didn't see anything."
"Huh." You plopped back down, feeling a bit of relief wash over you, though the knot in your stomach still remained.
"Maybe your house is haunted." Wooyoung teased making you roll your eyes.
Though, when you spared the book another glance, and your mind flashed back to it being closed when you swore you left it open, you almost believed his words.
As Yeosang put another movie in, after winning against Wooyoung in rock, paper, scissors, and San had his fill of candy choices, you tried to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts.
Your thoughts however were only distracted for a short time, as you caught onto an unfamiliar figure in the TV's reflection as the screen went black momentarily. It was only for a second, but you swore someone was standing right behind you.
Not wanting to freak yourself out, you slowly turned your head, finding that the room was empty behind you. You stared down the darkened hallway, as you felt as though you were being watched. Looking back at the book, you took in a deep breath.
"Are you sure there was nothing when you looked San?"
San looked over at you, noticing you peering back at the dark area of your house.
He frowned "Yeah I'm sure, why?"
"I don't know" You hesitated, "I just...got a weird feeling."
Yeosang had now paused the movie and he and Wooyoung looked back down the hallway as well.
San stood up tapping Wooyoung's leg, "Come on."
You looked over at them as they all stood up, "What are you doing?"
"We'll check everything, so you can feel better about it okay?"
You smiled at him as you stood up as well, "That would make me feel better."
He smiled and nodded as you all walked through the house, checking every closet and every room. Yeosang checked every door and window until you were satisfied.
You sat back on the couch with a sigh, "Maybe watching horror movies when I know I live alone isn't such a good idea." You joked, making the others chuckle.
"Or, maybe I was right." Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows and you smacked his shoulder. "Shut up! I do not want to think about my house being haunted Woo."
He chuckled, "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure it's not, I'm just joking."
"Come on, let's put in a more lighthearted movie. That will be better right?" Yeosang asked looking at you, and you nodded with a smile, grateful he wanted you to feel more comfortable.
Even with the house fully checked, you felt uneasy when the time came for the three to go home. You knew your house was empty, you knew you were safe, but something felt...off.
San gave you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"
You nodded your head, "Yeah, I'll be fine." It wasn't a lie, you hoped.
Throwing away candy wrappers and washing your drinking glasses, you started to feel a bit better as your house grew quiet. As you began to sing softly to yourself, your nerves began to settle even more. You really were just riling yourself up with stupid thoughts.
Creak
Your voice went silent and your whole body froze as the door at the end of the hallway creaked open.
Looking to your left, you slowly reached over, grabbing the heavy candle holder you had bought earlier in the day. Silently, you walked to the hall and turned the light on, seeing it empty ahead of you. The door was in fact open and you felt your heart thump painfully in your chest.
You let out a shaky breath as you slowly crept down the hall, peering into every room, until you finally checked the last room, yet finding nothing once again.
You cursed to yourself as you walked back into your kitchen. Scoffing as you set the candle holder down, you grabbed the book and stared at it.
"You're not really haunted, are you?"
"Not quite."
Gasping you dropped the book as you quickly grabbed the candle holder, spinning around you saw a man standing a few feet away. Chucking the candle holder at him, he dodged it, though barely, as he was surprised by your quick movements.
You froze for a second as the man looked back at you, surprise fading into a smirk, "Good reflexes."
Quickly reaching behind you, you grabbed a knife from the counter and held it defensively.
His smirked seemed to widen, "A fighter too."
"Who are you?" You asked boldly, though there was a waver in your voice.
He quirked his brow, "Shouldn't you know? You called me here."
He could see the confusion that crossed your face and his interest continued to pique.
"What do you mean?" Your grip tightened around the handle of the knife.
Tilting his head softly, his eyes drifted to the book on the counter behind you, "That little incantation you read earlier."
You quickly glance at the book, and your eyes furrowed more, "What?"
He furrowed his brow before he scoffed, "You have magic in your veins and you aren't even aware of it."
You were as far away from the man as you could get but fully cornered in your kitchen. Eyeing the counter, you knew you were fully prepared to vault over it if needed.
"What does that mean? Who are you?" You asked again, your voice holding more force than before.
"It means you are a child of witches. No matter how far back in your bloodline, only those with magic in their blood can use that book. And you summoned me."
"S-summoned?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as your mind went wild. This guy was crazy, or maybe you were crazy. Whichever one it was, nothing was making sense.
Slowly, the man smiled, showing his bright white teeth. Bowing to you, he peered up, and as his eyes met yours you could see they were now completely black. Your heart jolted with shock as you felt locked in place.
"And to answer your other question. I am Death." Standing straight up again, you watched as his eyes faded back to brown. "But, you can call me Seonghwa. It is the name I go by with humans."
"Yeah, I'm going crazy." You muttered, staring almost blankly at him.
He tilted his head and a soft smile graced his face. "Is that easier to believe?"
"Is it easier to believe I'm going crazy over the fact that I somehow summoned Death into my house? Yeah, a bit."
He grinned at your words before he moved to walk into your living room. You followed him with your eyes, taking the moment to move out of your kitchen and to an area you could easily make a break for it if needed.
Looking around he smiled, "At least I didn't get summoned by someone who wanted to use me, or trap me. Last time that happened- Well, it didn't work out very well for him."
A shiver ran up your spine at his words, and you spoke again, your voice soft, and showing your new fear.
"Are you going to kill me?
Slowly he looked over at you, and for a moment you saw what you could only describe as dejection.
"Do you want to die?" He asked slowly, making your breath catch.
You shook your head, "No."
He smiled again and you almost felt relieved. "Then no, I am not going to kill you."
As he looked back towards your living room, you watched him pick up a piece of chocolate and eat it. You took this moment to fully take in his appearance.
His black hair perfectly matched his fully black outfit, and you couldn't deny he was gorgeous, almost ethereal even. If he wasn't a stranger claiming to be Death as he walked around your house as if he hadn't broken in, you might be flirting with him.
Looking over at you, his eyes scanned you before landing on the knife still in your hand.
"That won't do anything by the way." He commented with a casual tone.
Your eyes fell down to the knife in your hand and you held it tighter. "You say that, but it makes me feel better."
His lip quirked up slightly, "Then keep it."
You glanced over at the book and recalled everything that had happened since you bought it. Noises, shadows in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being watched, but never finding or seeing anyone. Maybe he really was telling the truth.
"Why- what is an incantation to summon death doing written in the back of an old book?"
He shrugged "Well, it's not just an old book, its a grimoire, a spell book for witches. And it belonged to the last man who summoned me. The one who trapped me." You could hear malice in his voice as he looked back over at the book and your chest tightened.
"The one you killed?"
His eyes fell on you and his brow quirked, "How do you know I killed him?"
"You implied it. Besides, you said you were Death." You quickly answered.
His lips curled into a smile you would normally find charming if he weren't so unnerving.
"Smart too." He hummed as he turned to face you fully, his eyes scanned you up and down, as something you didn't recognize flashed in his eyes.
He started to walk slowly towards you and a shiver crawled up your spine, you backed away, and your felt your heart drop as your back hit the wall. Lifting your hand you reminded him of the knife as you gripped it, ready to fight if needed.
He stopped right in front of you and you felt your breath catch. The tip of the knife was pressed to his chest, but he didn't so much as blink.
Lifting his hand, he reached towards your face, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.
"Brave, strong-willed, smart, and beautiful."
His touch was cold, but it felt nice, and you resisted the urge to let out a sigh. The thought alone jarring you. You should be afraid, you should be yelling, running, fighting, but you weren't.
You met his eyes and you were startled by the softness he held in his gaze.
"What do you want from me?" You asked, voice soft, just above a whisper.
He tilted his head ever so slightly as he admired your face, dropping his hand.
"I was going to ask you that." Stepping away from you, he walked over to your fridge, pulling it open. "You summoned me, though I now know it was an accident. What was it you told your friend? You thought it would make a nice decoration?" You could hear a note of amusement in his tone.
You watched him rummage through your fridge as you thought back on your conversation with San. So he really had been here in the house, unseen, invisible. You recalled the reflection in the TV and you shivered.
Silently you walked back over to the book, the grimoire, as he called it. Quietly flipping through it, you wondered if every passage was a different spell. And you couldn't help but wonder, if you summoned him could you maybe do more?
You glanced back up at him, seeing him investigating your left-overs. Setting the knife down, you continued to flip to the end of the book.
Finding the last passage, the one you had summoned him with, your eyes fell to the second half, the part you had not read aloud. If the first half summoned him, perhaps the second half-
Before you could even finish your thought, you were being pressed up against the counter, hands held down at your sides, as Seonghwa's chest was pressed against your own. His nose brushed yours as his eyes held an intense gaze with yours.
"Don't." His voice was strong, but you thought you heard...panic?
"Don't what?" You asked somewhat breathlessly, still startled by his quick movements. You hadn't even seen him step away from the fridge.
"Read it."
"Why?" You asked, a challenge in your tone. You already knew you had been right, and from his reaction, he knew you knew it too.
"Because I don't want to go."
You felt your gut twist at the sudden vulnerability on his face, the tone of his voice did show fear, and almost desperation.
"Wh-why?" You asked again, your tone softer this time.
You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, but he still held you against him. Seonghwa debated telling you, what if you were secretly cruel? Just waiting for the perfect moment to get your hands back on the book? But as he studied your gaze a bit longer, he saw the genuine curiosity, and kindness peaking through, he also saw concern. For him? He felt his chest clench.
No, you weren't cruel, you were something...else. Something that intrigued him more than he could fully understand just yet.
"It's been so long since I've come here without cause or instruction, I'd like to stay. Unless you demand something of me."
"Demand?"
"You summoned me, and because of that, you have some realm of control over me. So tell me, what do you want?"
You stared into his eyes and saw various emotions coursing through them. What had others who summoned him demanded he do? He was Death, so did that mean he was summoned to kill? And who? Innocent people? Evil people? What did the man who owned the grimoire before you do to him when he trapped him?
The more you thought of these possibilities, the more you could make sense of the emotions in his gaze. He was afraid, he was angry, he was tired. He wanted to be free.
You found yourself shaking your head. "I don't want anything."
Seonghwa studied your face for a moment, his eyes grazing over your lips longer than he fully intended. He let go of your hands as he let out a breath.
You would really wish nothing of him? You had a powerful, God-like being at your beckoning, and you wanted nothing?
A smile formed on his face. "Kind too. I'll add that to the list."
You felt a smile tugging at your lips, but you pushed it away. "So can you only come here when you are summoned?"
Seonghwa smiled. So you had finally accepted he was really Death. Now, you were curious. Usually he might ignore your questions and flee, but you were, more or less, setting him free. And, something made him not want to leave, at least not quite yet.
"Or to take souls to the Underworld. But most times, I can only stay for a short time. Until my bidding is done."
"And...are you the only Death? I mean, there can't just be you, right?"
"No, there are many of us. We are demons, a type at least."
Your brow furrowed, "I thought Death was supposed to be an Angel?"
"The original one was, yes. But Angels can only handle so much death before they are tainted by it. Demons are not."
You nodded as if you understood, but you only grew more confused by the second.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this so easily." He mused, his tone holding both curiosity and amusement.
"And I don't know why I'm not freaking out."
He smiled as a soft chuckle left his mouth and as you smiled in return, he felt his heart skip a beat. As he studied you his gaze almost became playful.
You felt your ears and neck growing hot, "What?" You asked, uncertain what to do under his gaze.
A smirk formed on his face, "I like you." He said matter-of-factly.
You could no longer ignore the heat that had risen up your neck, or the way your heart pounded in your chest. How and why did he make you feel like this, when you had been terrified not too long ago?
Before you could respond, you heard a knock on your door, causing you to flinch out of surprise.
Seonghwa glanced towards your door before he looked back at you. He tried to ignore the disappointment that filled his chest as you looked away from him. He hated interruptions.
"Your friend is back."
You looked from the door to him and he motioned his head for you to go. You slowly walked away, leaving the kitchen, and his line of sight, still uneasy due to his previous actions. He wasn't going to do anything to whoever was at the door was he?
Peeping out of the window, you saw San bouncing on his feet outside your door. You rose your brow as you wondered how Seonghwa had known it was one of your friends. And why were you referring to him as Seonghwa like you knew him??
As you disappeared from his sight Seonghwa looked down at the grimoire before picking it up. It really could do you good, if you learned more about your magic. But, as long as that incantation was in the back, he couldn't let you have it. Not if you might change your mind about letting him stay.
He could hear you answer the door, and knew you wouldn't say anything about his presence. If you did, you would just sound crazy, and he wouldn't be here to prove that wrong.
"Hey! I left my phone in the living room." San said as soon as you opened the door, before he rushed inside "I gotta get it before Wooyoung drives off without me."
"Oh, I can get it!"
He chuckled "That's okay, I'll be quick!" He called back as he headed past the kitchen where Seonghwa was.
You followed him, fear spiking through you, what would Seonghwa do? What would San do? As you rounded the corner, you saw San grabbing his phone from the table, while the kitchen was empty, Seonghwa no where in sight. Your eyes landed on the counter and your heart jumped. He had taken the book.
San grinned at you, "Got it! Sorry, I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?!" He called as he jogged out of the house and towards Wooyoung's car as he sat impatiently out front.
You looked around, wondering where Seonghwa had gone. Had he really left? You walked swiftly through your house and didn't find him. He had taken the book and vanished. Of course he would. That was the smart thing to do.
Your thoughts swam for a moment as your eyes stared blankly at where the book had been.
Why wouldn't he leave? I didn't command him to do anything and he just wanted to be free. And he took the book...because I could use it to send him back to...well wherever it was he came from.
You knew he was smart for taking the book, but why did he leave? And why did your chest ache because of it? Was he going to come back? Or was that the first and last time you would meet the black haired demon? Would you see him again years down the road when you die? Were you really descended from witches?
Thoughts plagued you as you sat on the couch. How had your day gone from so normal, to so earth-shatteringly complicated in the span of a few hours?
Slowly, without really noticing, you started to sink lower into the couch as your mind slowed, exhaustion from the adrenaline of your evening. Giving into it, mind foggy, you lied down, accepting sleep as it washed over you.
Maybe this was all a dream, and I've been asleep the whole time.
That was the last coherent thought that crossed your mind. So lost in the fog of sleep, you could barely register the sound of wings fluttering nearby, or the sound of footsteps approaching you. The soft caress of fingertips across your cheek might have shocked you if your mind had been more alert.
As your body became weightless, you stirred for only a moment before you drifted into a deep sleep.
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When you woke the next morning the thoughts of the previous night rushed to your mind. There was no way that actually happened, right?
You sat up and looked down at yourself. You had never changed into your pajamas. In fact, you had fallen asleep on the couch, not in your bed. So, how were you in your bedroom now?
The image of Seonghwa appeared in your mind and your chest tightened.
It wasn't a dream, was it?
Walking out into your living room, your eyes scanned the room, before landing on the kitchen counter. Walking over you found the candle-holder you had thrown now sitting on the edge of the table. And the spot where you had placed the book was empty.
Would he come back? Should you wait?
No. No, I have a life, I can't sit and wait around for Death.
The sudden thought almost made you laugh. The thought would be more profound if it weren't a person you were referring too.
Deciding to get dressed and go to work, you tried not to focus on all of the new thoughts and questions plaguing your mind. But you found very little to distract yourself with. All day you looked around expecting to see Seonghwa watching you. Every time you heard the sound of a bird fly past your eyes darted around.
Was it just your mind that made you so paranoid? When every time you felt like you were being watched, or that someone was behind you even though no one was there. Was it just you? Or was it really him?
You weren't sure why, but you kept yourself so busy with work you stayed late. Then you decided to run errands that didn't even need to be done.
It was all because you were afraid to go home. But why, is what confused you. It wasn't that you were afraid he would show up, it was that you wanted him too.
You should be terrified, but you just wanted to know more. More about what or who he is. More about yourself and magic.
Was it morbid curiosity? Was it attraction to some form of darkness you didn't understand?
You hated that you couldn't sort your thoughts out. And all you felt was exhaustion by the time you finally got home. You ran out of things to keep you away, so you gave in.
As you stepped into your quite house, you looked around, checking each room casually before you let out a sigh and wandered over to the fridge.
He took the book, he is free to do what he wants, he's not coming back. Why would he?
Leaning down to look through the fridge, your whole body froze as the sound of fluttering wings came from behind you. Slowly, you stood up, before turning to peer over your shoulder.
You knew what you were going to see, but your heart still jumped as you set eyes on Seonghwa. He stared at you from across the room, a small smile on his face.
Slowly turning around, you closed the fridge as you stared at him in silence for a moment.
"And here I was beginning to wonder if you were ever real at all." You mumbled, trying to steady your heavy beating heart.
His small smile widened but he stayed silent.
Your eyes wandered to where the book had been and you met his eyes. "Wanted to make sure I couldn't send you back?"
He glanced to the kitchen counter and for a second you thought you saw guilt cross his face before he shrugged his head.
"Yes. Honestly I should have gotten rid of it last time, but I had no idea the incantation was written in the book itself."
"You could have just asked." You mumbled almost under your breath, and he noted the mild offense in your tone.
He looked you up and down and took a step closer before tilting his head. "Are you saying you wouldn't have done it?"
You laced your hands together behind your back as you kept eye contact with him. You walked away from the fridge and around the counter to face him straight on.
"I don't know. I'm still struggling to understand if this is all real or-"
"Or if you're going crazy?"
You nodded slowly as he finished your thought. Suddenly, he began walking towards you, you hesitated, only stepping back as he nearly ran into you. You let out a soft gasp as your back hit the wall.
You met his eyes in mild panic and uncertainty, but he simply stared into your eyes with a soft smile. His forehead nearly brushed yours as he got closer. Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against the side of your face before cupping your cheek.
"Do you feel that?"
Your voice had vanished, but you nodded.
His other hand rubbed against your own before he laced his fingers through yours and held your hand.
"And that?"
You nodded again, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it himself.
He smiled before he slowly removed his hand and took a step back, "Then this is real, and you are not crazy"
Opening your mouth, you hesitated for second before you finally found your voice again. "Why did you come back?"
He stared at you for a moment before raising his brow.
"You took the book, I can't send you back, you're free to stay, just like you wanted. So why did you come back here?"
He kept his eyes locked with yours in silence for a moment before he hummed under his breath.
"I wondered that too, and I can come to only one conclusion."
You waited in silence, questioning him with your gaze. Your breath caught as he leaned forward again, closing the distance he had just put between you.
Seonghwa brought his face next to yours, as his breath tickled your ear.
"I want you."
Your eyes widened as you took in his words, but before you could respond a gust of air and the sound of fluttering wings caused you to flinch and blink in surprise. As you opened them again, he was gone, as though he had never been there at all.
You let out a staggered breath as the tension in your body released.
Taking everything in, you felt dizzy from the amount of thoughts passing through your head. But all of it came crashing down as you let out a bewildered breath and the only thing you could truly muster.
"What the fuck."
xx End xx
{Part Two}
Series Taglist Open
General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669
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gwojo · 4 months
Text
Inumaki Toge as ur bf
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FEATURING: Inumaki Toge (狗巻棘)
inumaki toge x gn!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, things he'd do if u fall in love w him! (more on how he falls in love w u) wordcount: 1,127
PS. i do know that inumaki can write normally but i prefer to add a little twist to it bc it's basically his signature manner &lt;3!
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Toge's initial impression towards others is always being quiet, aloof and distant–intimidating at most.. when you were introduced as a first year student (after yuta), you were very intimidated with everyone around because it seemed like they already have created their own friend group, being left out was your current situation now.
Lately you've been feeling some stares around you whenever you were walking or just doing anything in general.. u were creeped out, like REALLY creeped out bc u couldn't seem to find where it was coming from.
A few days later, you've started being close friends with yuta and maki, you eventually opened up about being intimidated by their other friend who goes by the name "inumaki toge" saying that he doesn't answer anything u say and u took it wrongly by thinking that he was "ignoring" u
You later then realized he was born with the "snake and fangs" seal of the inumaki clan on his tongue and both of his cheeks (you were adoring him the whole entire lesson during class..) and that he couldn't be able to speak to others because of the possibility of harming them
But something was weird, if you and inumaki were always left alone he would somehow disappear the minute you blink?? AND IT WAS OFTEN so you asked for maki or yuta for advice
They told you something about how he's afraid he might have too much fun talking to you (he always adored and eavesdropped on ur conversations with yuta and he always ends up laughing) and he'd accidentally harm you with his technique.
On toge's pov, he obviously fell in love with u and had a slightly HUGE crush on you. On his side, he started making new words from other ingredients to confess to you which you'll never find the meaning about bc it's hidden to him only
everyday, you always saw little notes given by someone anonymous with ingredients written on them (u were confused at first and thought that someone had placed a grocery list in ur locker by mistake)
IT WAS SO.. painfully obvious for maki and yuta yet the both of you seemed so blind to see that u guys were both IN !!! LOVE !!! WITH !!! EACH !!! OTHER !!!
let's just say you guys ended up confessing in the end when you saw him putting the anonymous notes in your locker one day.. you confessed to him that you always knew it was him and knew what the meaning was behind to all those "grocery" notes he gave you
Let's go back to the time maki or yuta told you about how he didn't wanna interact with you because he was scared to approach you and might harm you with his technique because he'd have too much fun with you. you basically took note of that immediately and realized how protective he really is even if they were strangers, you dedicated a notebook for him which you wrote things that he'd say and what it would mean whenever it's being translated by yuta and made it your goal to be friends with him (you were lying to yourself that u only wanted to be friends w/ him)
soooo.. that's how you both ended up together.. you gave him your notebook that was dedicated to him and he saw the things you wrote about him everyday and the daily notes he gave you were all there, so you teased him by translating the things that was written there. AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF you confessed in riceball ingredients to show how much you've learned about him AND HE BECAME SOOOOOO FLUSTERED AND RED WAS ALL OVER HIS FACE.
hes a rlly shy boy tho, at the first few weeks of u guys dating he'll be hinting that he really wants to hug u, touch ur hair, etc.. but hes still sooooo clingy even when hes shy so u have to be patient with him when he can't tell u what hes feeling <3
NO ONE REALLY KNOWS THAT U GUYS ALREADY STARTED DATING BECAUSE HE'D RATHER KEEP IT PRIVATE BETWEEN U GUYS BUT ALSO WANT TO SHOW THAT HE LOVES U AND THAT URE ONLY HIS :((
apparently hes too shy but hes not embarrassed, hes just shy to tell the others because they were right, that u also liked him and he always made them stress out bc of him overthinking 24/7..
he probably would be the type to write poems for you every single day and once it gets to your first year anniversary, all of those poems actually have a whole new entire meaning once u stick them together
he loves playing minecraft with u and his friends, but he'd always find a way to excuse u both so u guys could only play together HAHA he really prefers to be with u rather than other people
He grew so fond of u to the point whenever he sees something that he knows you'll like, he'd always take a pic of it and send it to u so ur dms with him are always flooded with things that u like
much like yuji, arcade is his thing so its very crucial for him to add atleast a arcade date with u and a picture booth at the end of the day <33
we all know inumaki struggles to speak due to his immense cursed speech, and it has become very hard to express how he feels since hes a very expressive person towards u and he finds himself stressing out just because he cant apologize whenever he does smth wrong or whenever u guys are in an argument (which i highly doubt), and he feels so guilty not being able to express words of affirmation to you knowing that its also important in a relationship..
so pls pls be patient with inumaki :(( its already hard for him ever since he knew about his cursed speech and im very sure you guys will find ways to communicate better than just speaking with affirmation
you ended up buying him a soundboard for his birthday and he'd constantly played the sound "i love you" which has your voice in it..
texting is also very often even when you guys are together, you just basically grew into that habit of texting each other just to communicate ever since
his major call signs with you are: baby and love <33 (i just cant imagine him being serious when hes such a cutie)
he loves you very much because he would probably be one of the people hard to love especially with his cursed speech but you're different far from others and he really got attached with you and plans to never let go.
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reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading.
— © gwojo 2023. pls i advise u not to share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.
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multis-sermonibus · 2 years
Note
Ω♔♚, ☄, Saitama, Kakashi?
Headcanons: Sex Life Edition masterpost
Ω   Best time ever
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"At night. Duh."
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"Preferably at night but daytime is fine too."
♔  What gets them in the mood
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"Aha- well, I guess kissing?"
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"Probably a good make-out session."
♚  Most sensitive spot
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"My Dick of course."
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"I'd have to say my nipples and my-... Manhood."
☄   If there was a safe-word, what would it be?
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"I suck at safe words so I'd just let my partner pick."
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"Hot potato!"
3 notes · View notes
bones4thecats · 5 months
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I'm not sure if you accepting RoR request but can I request Shiva, Buddha, Qin Shi Huang and Nikola Tesla with a fem reader that's Nyarlathotep? (crawling chaos from HP Lovecraft) she looks normal and even cute most of the time but she can be very much terrifying when turning into her cosmic horror form or if she wants to just mess around with the gods (mostly Zeus and Odin) by messing with their heads most of the time and they can't do much because she's an outer god but around them she's very sweet and helpful and ties her best to push away her violent tendencies for their sake
Type of Writing: Request Characters: Shiva, Buddha, Qin Shi Huang, and Nikola Tesla Name: {Character} with a Nyarlathotep! Reader Requester: Anonymous
A/N: At this point, I may as well make a page dedicated to my H.P. Lovecraft-themed Reader pieces, since I've written like three pieces now! It's ironic because of how much I love reading about these characters, lmao
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🪩 This man thrives on destruction, he's the God of it for crying out loud!
🪩 When he first met you, you and your father, Azathoth, were attending the Gods' Council meeting, and you were one of the Gods who decided to spare Humanity, and when asked by him, you just replied with a sly
" Oh, I do not wish for them to live because of pity or love, silly! Quite the opposite, actually! Humans have caused so much chaos and madness, it's wonderful! And, I plan on keeping them for as long as I find them enjoyable. Now, ta-ta~ "
🪩 He'd be lying if he said he didn't find you a hint alluring, you looked far cuter than what was written down, you were always described as a being that looked more 'monstrous' and 'hideous' than anything Humanity could've created
🪩 Shiva and you would normally speak whenever necessary, but, after a while, your more distant bond grew into a blooming friendship and eventual marriage!
🪩 This God definitely doesn't care about how mad you sound with your words, he just fears that maybe one day you'll either say something to the wrong person or you'll end up going unstoppable with madness and get annihilated by a stronger being
🪩 Whenever Loki messes around with Shiva, you end up messing with his mind a lot, prompting Odin to knock you away, which makes you target him, much to his birds' annoyance
🪩 Shiva tried pushing his own violent tendencies away for you and his fellow wives' sake, and because of this, he ends up having a special day every month for him to go out and let out those thoughts and actions, and, when he notices just how much pressure was building on you, he'd take you with him
" Go ahead and blow that massive boulder up! Good job, my Being of Chaos! "
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🍭 This guy was concerned when he first met you, you were seemingly more insane than the other Gods he met, and that included those such as Loki, and we all know how crazy that guy is
🍭 The only reason this guy even spoke to you was because of how strongly your father stood with the destruction of Humanity, every. single. time. that the Gods voted
🍭 Buddha was getting annoyed with how ignorant and oblivious your father was, and he could tell you were as well, and when he asked you about how you truly felt about your father, you acknowledged him, unlike many different Gods, and spoke to him calmly with hidden insanity
" My father is quite ignorant and, to be honest, sometimes even I wonder how in the name of the universe he has so much power. But, let me be honest with you, Buddha. Because of this, he's fun to manipulate. But, don't tell anyone about that, yeah? Yeah! Alright, gotta go, bye! "
🍭 He was quite off-put when he asked Brunhilde about you, and when she said how dangerous and hideous of a being you were, he was confused, you were adorable and seemingly sweet
🍭 Your God-friend and you were some of the only Gods who voted for Humanity's safety, though, you both kept it to yourselves, not wishing to have a certain someone's rage on your asses
🍭 When Ragnarok commenced, you teleported to speak to Brunhilde, telling her your plan of siding with Humanity during the Gods' strongest point to break them down mentally, you did love to watch them struggle, after all!
🍭 After finding out that Buddha was siding with Humanity, you jumped down, causing many to believe you were fighting against him, but, when you announced your defect to their side, your father's rage knew no bounds
" Oh, father, just how much of an ignorant prick can you be? Humanity does have some, decent, qualities to them. And while I may never fully understand them, I will try my best to do so. Anyways, have fun fighting, my dear! "
🍭 Much like Shiva, he appreciates how much you try staying sane around him and the Human Fighters, it lets him know just how much you do care about him
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👑 When Qin first met you, it was because one of your father's minions accidentally caused mass destruction to his home, leaving many lives in ruin and an emperor very, very, upset
👑 You attending the small meeting with your father, though you spent your time screwing around with the nearby humans, causing the ruler to ignore your father's rambles of incoherentness
👑 While he initially disliked how unsettlingly cute yet sadistic you were, once he got to know you a bit better, thanks to some well-spent time on Earth by yourself, he began to see you for what you really were
👑 Being raised by such a cruel yet idiotic being, you really didn't have the best examples when it came to interactions with other brings, heck, you had some of the most horrendous relationships with your two siblings, Nameless Mist and Darkness
👑 During one of your first meetings while on decent terms, he asked you exactly what you were going to do, since he had heard about Ragnarok forming from one of the guards of his
" Ragnarok? It sounds pretty pathetic to me, honestly. Though, I suppose watching the smug smirks of those so called Gods fade would make me smile myself. I kid, I kid! Oh, you see right through me, emperor! Honestly, really it's a funny thing, but, I may side with Humanity in the downfall, you know how I am! "
👑 Qin disliked how cruel and hostile you were with pretty much anyone, but, when he noticed how much softer and seemingly polite you were with his fellow fighters, he would smile to himself
👑 You must really care about him if it meant you were trying to push back the only thing you ever knew behind just so he could be happier and not driven to the brink of insanity himself from stress
" Why am I so kind with the mortals? I figured I was being sneaky with my behavior, oh well! They're far weaker appearing then they really are, I suppose. And I respect that, to a degree. I'm not going soft, damn you! "
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🧪 Nikola Tesla, the man known on Earth as the 'Ultimate Mad Scientist of His Time', and his title alone was enough to interest you
🧪 Once you learned of where he resided in Valhalla, you took a small trip there, leaving a simply written note on the table your father sat at daily, and setting a straight-lined course there
🧪 He was just working on his newest invention when his doors slammed open, making him jump and snap his head back to see a fairly tall humanoid-being standing there
🧪 While he stared at you, you smiled and ran up to him, allowing your form to float above him and ask if he was indeed the human known as 'Nikola Tesla'
🧪 Once reassuring his identity, you began asking about his work, from how he made something so complicated look so seemingly simple, despite the multitude of horrendously long equation written on his chalkboard
🧪 Due to his own curiosity, Nikola had to push himself to ask who and what you were, in which you just laughed and answered him with a honey-coated voice
" Who am I? That's quite surprising, dearest mortal! I am Y/N, the offspring of the Outer God, Azathoth, and the God of Madness, at least in many's eyes I am. Humans are different creatures... ANYWAYS! How about you explain about that, uh, what did you call it again? Ah, yes! The electric engineering, how does that work again? "
🧪 Nikola was very off-put by how devoted you were to being by his side to learn everything he was working on, and, in all honesty, he kinda enjoyed having you around to speak to, it made him feel a little less lonely
🧪 While he was being scolded by Brunhilde for speaking to a God who was said to have only sided with Humanity to make them suffer at their own hands, he couldn't help but argue back with how you were far more gentle with his fellow scientists when working on his armory
" Brunhilde. While I agree with the fact that their father isn't ideal in the slightest, Y/N is going behind his and the multitude of Gods' backs just to help me and my fellow geniuses win Ragnarok. You may not trust them, but I do. Now, I recommend you leave before they arrive, it may get ugly, and I do not wish for their aura to destroy our hard work. "
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
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Title: Sequestration.
Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Robotic Bodyguard!OC x Reader.
Word Count: 2.6k.
TW: Heavy Themes of Isolation/Reliance, Needles, Intimidation, Manipulation Through Health, Reader Wears A Dress And Is Called Princess But Like In A Non-Binary Way, and Codependence.
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On your best days, you could remind yourself that life outside the castle probably wouldn’t be any more interesting than life inside of it.
How could it be? You’d never actually been outside, sure, but you’d spent hours staring out of your dust-covered windows, sorting through your mother’s research, walking across the scarred landscape in your holographic enrichment chamber until you came to the end of what the simulation was able to generate or Prince decided that you’d spent enough time thinking about things you shouldn’t, that day. You’d talked to other survivors (real survivors, you mean – you still don’t know if you could really call the way you live ‘surviving’) on your mother’s communication devices and the more primitive radio transceivers you put together yourself, and you knew that it was more routine than anything, that scavenging for food and gathering clean water and praying that, by some miracle, you’d stumble onto one of the few remaining pockets of civilization before that pocket devolves into in-fighting and anarchy was about as much fun as sitting inside and daydreaming about doing the same. You knew how to keep yourself busy; the castle was endless, its rooms countless and the labyrinth of tunnels that ran underneath it endless, and even if you did spend the rest of your life mapping out its every twist and bend, it would’ve taken another to finish the restoration work your mother started. You had enough dried and canned food to last you the next century, and you always kept the indoor garden going strong. You had hobbies, and routines, and when you were absolutely desperate for company, you had Prince. That, you guessed, would never change. No matter what you did, he would be there to guide you through it. No matter where you when, you’d always have Prince on your heels.
On your best days, you could tell yourself that life outside of the castle would be as boring as life inside of it.
On your worst, it was impossible to make yourself believe that anything could be as boring as the life you were living now.
It was a quiet, knotted despair – the kind that lent itself to long days spent consumed by low-burning anxiety and dampened terror and everything else that comes along with knowing you’d likely never take so much as a step outside of the building you’d been born in. You tried to keep it hidden the best you could, to avoid Prince and, by association, one of his well-intended but less than helpful ‘check-ups’, but the inevitable could only be delayed for so long. He found you in one of the castle’s tallest spires, sitting in a bay window spilling over with patterned quilts and velvet-lined pillows. He was already scowling when he appeared by your side, his lips quirked downward and his gaze ever so slightly narrowed. You’d expected as much. He’d always said the spire's damp air would worsen your condition, but according to Prince, nearly everything would worsen your condition. If he had his way, you’d be locked in your library all day and your bedroom all night, and he’d always know exactly where to find you.
He was wearing his holographic form, as he always was – his pink hair pulled back into a perfect low ponytail, his features softened yet well-defined, every part of him manicured and refined in the way a creature who’d been quite literally designed for companionship could be. You’d only seen his true form, his physical form, once; that shambling mess of gears and iron banding, but you could still remember the way it creaked as it moved towards you, the strange dissonance of hearing Prince’s voice and seeing that malformed, mechanical nightmare. You couldn’t be scared of him, not really, not when you knew it was still Prince underneath all that metal and all those jagged edges, but you listened when he warned you away from certain parts of the castle, now.
You didn’t turn to face him immediately, keeping your eyes on the distant landscape until he cleared his throat and took a step toward you. You watched, out of the corner of your eye, as Prince reached out, moving to touch your shoulder before pulling back and letting his hand fall to his side. He couldn’t touch you, not in this form, but he’d try, occasionally. It was an expression of the more human side of his programming, the half that was made to keep you happy, not just safe. You could only imagine what string of numbers could make a being so rational carry so much sentimentality. “I believe it’s past time for your treatment, Your Highness.”
You pulled your knees up to your chest, burying your face in the thick fabric of your skirts. “Again? Didn’t I just take my medicine yesterday?”
“Yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. It’s a daily essential. You’d know that if you ever bothered to listen to me.” His frown was gone in a moment, replaced with a small smile and a pleased look in his eyes. “Do you need me to escort you to the clinic?”
“I think I can find it on my own.” You waited for a long beat. When Prince failed to move, failed to respond, you added, “But, if you want to accompany me…”
“It’d be my honor, Highness.”
He waited patiently as you slowly removed yourself from the windowsill, sparing one last look towards the lifeless horizon as you smoothed over your skirts and placed yourself at his side. You couldn’t take his arm, but you didn’t need to. He knew how to keep pace with you, by now, matching your stride as you quietly navigated through the castle’s tangle of empty hallways and overly cluttered rooms. Everything, from the ancient furniture to the box-like sensors posted in the corner of every room to your own sparse decorative touches, was coated in a layer of dust you’d never been able to stave-off. You tried to clean whenever you could, and Prince did his part, but there was just too much to take care of. Your world was, simultaneously, impossibly small and incomprehensibly large, and it was similarly difficult to imagine that you’d ever be able to fill the space or shake off that ever-growing sense of claustrophobia.
Eventually, you came to a pair of towering glass doors – the entryway to the otherwise unused sunroom that you’d taken to using as a makeshift clinic. You looked to your side, nodding to Prince, and in an instant, he’d dissolved into thin air. You counted out a minute and, more importantly, waited to hear the sound of metal scraping against tile - the sound of Prince’s footsteps - before slipping inside. As always, the clinic greeted you with shining marble walls and a glittering glass cieling, but only dread accompanied the lovely sight. Your treatment, for as much as it delighted Prince, wasn’t something you could bring yourself to look forward to.
Prince was already waiting for you, a familiar wooden case in-hand, looking just a little more vivid than he had a second before. You knew why – that his holographic body was now anchored to his physical form, that he had to wear a skin you wouldn’t be able to see through – but you still made an effort not to look at him. It was too realistic, too uncanny. You didn’t know what you’d do if you ever met another living person. If Prince was too much for you, you couldn’t imagine how you’d react to someone who was made up of more than projected light.
You took your place on the cot in the center of the room, folding your legs underneath you and cringing at the way the stiff sheets crinkled. In a moment, Prince was at your side, already sanitizing the needle of a long, bronze syringe. You just held out your arm, pointedly glaring in the opposite direction, and Prince acknowledged your discontent with a low hum, a slight pinch, a sudden numbness slowly ebbing from the crook of your arm. You closed your eyes, but that only gave you less to distract yourself with, only left you more focused on the discomfort lodged just underneath your skin, the stark chill quickly seeping away what little warmth you had. Still, you kept your eyes shut as he worked, determined to at least pretend that it helped. “Prince.”
It was a reflex, by now – just another routine. Shut your eyes, and when that didn’t work, call out for Prince. He was as used to it as you were. “Yes, Highness?”
The pain was minimal, but you winced as he drew the needle back. “Do you think we could go for a walk tomorrow?”
“You go for a walk every day.” The bandages were next – white, plush, and virtually useless. You’d take them off in less than an hour, but Prince enjoyed the ritual of it, and it wasn’t as if you didn’t have time to spare. “As far as I was aware, you don’t have any other way to get around.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You threw him a hollow glare. “A walk outside. Just around the courtyard.”
“Why would you want to go out there?” You didn’t have to see him to know he was grimacing. You could hear the disgust in his tone, picture his automatic revulsion. “It’s filthy, and dangerous. The dust would shred your lungs.”
“I’d wear protective gear. We have ventilators, and I could make a—”
“The strain alone could break you. That’s not to mention the heatstroke, or the bugs. You wouldn’t last a second.” There was a soft laugh, a swatch of cotton against your skin. His fingertips brushed against your skin, as cold as ice and as lifeless as metal. “Don’t make me watch you suffer like that, princess. You know I like taking care of you, but that’d just be torture.”
You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “There are people who’ve been out there for as long as I’ve been alive. I think I could survive a day.”
It wasn’t a chuckle, this time, but a laugh – whole-hearted and chirping. Perfectly engineered to be as mirthful and as patronizing as possible. “You can’t be serious. An hour, I could start to understand, but a day?” He shook his head, a stray length of pink hair falling over one of his eyes. “Please, don’t put my poor heart through that.”
“You don’t have a heart.”
“I have enough of one to know that this isn’t a good idea.” He smiled, and when you didn’t return the gesture, he sighed, lowering himself to one knee. The bandage was secured, and before you could pull away, he took your hand in his. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was secure, remorseless and iron-clad. He must not have realized how confining it felt. Otherwise, you knew he never would’ve held you that way. “I know it sounds harmless now,” he started, in that faux-sympathetic tone. The same one he’d used when you scraped a knee, or came crying to him about another malfunction in one of your half-baked inventions. “But you have to trust me. You’re safe here, with me. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to help you out there.”
You felt something acidic rise into the back of your throat. “Prince,” you said, again, if only to buy time to brace yourself. “I want to go outside.”
It was quick, but you saw it. A flicker to his holographic form, a nearly imperceptible lilac aura suddenly tinted a harsh red. You caught a glimpse of spiked shoulders, of a steel grate obscuring a nonexistent face, and then, Prince was back – still smiling, still staring up at you. It might’ve felt more genuine if you hadn’t known what was lurking behind his eyes.
“Do you know,” He spoke slowly, carefully, no part of his expression ever-changing, “what would happen if you missed one of your treatments?”
You shook your head. It wasn’t like either Prince or your mother had ever gone out of their way to explain why you were sick, lest the stress of it all take a toll on your oh-so-fragile helath. “I... I might get sick? It can’t be worse than spending the rest of my life doing this.”
He chuckled, bowing his head, his lips coming to rest a hair’s width above the back of your hand. “You’ll die. You’ll wither and fade away, just like the world outside of this castle did. Just ike your mother.” This time, when his grip tightened around your hand, you couldn’t tell yourself it wasn’t deliberate. You couldn’t tell yourself that he didn’t see how quickly your shoulders stiffened, that he didn’t notice you try and fail to pull yourself out of his hold. “Do you understand?”
“Prince, I don’t want to—”
His thumb dug into the bone of your wrist, metallic fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh. You winced, and Prince’s grin widened. “Do you understand, princess?”
“Yes, I do, I— Please, let me go.” You were gasping, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you fought to urge to pry yourself away from him. “I’m sorry, I understand – I’ll never ask again.”
He spared one more playful, bone-crushing squeeze before releasing you, letting you draw your hand back into your chest. He stood, taking up the syringe and its case before retreating back towards the clinic’s cabinets. You didn’t dare to move until he’d returned to your side, until you felt his hand on your shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t be so cruel to me.” The words were muttered, barely audible. If there’d been anything else to hear, anything else in this castle save for you and Prince, you might’ve missed it. You wish you could’ve missed it. “Will you be tending to your garden this afternoon?”
You nodded, as if in a trance. Prince hummed in approval. “Would you care for an escort?”
“I…” You crossed your arms over your chest. Your wrist throbbed, but you didn’t know what to do about it. You weren’t used to this type of pain. “I think I’ll manage on my own.”
You cast your gaze downward, to the cot’s over-starched sheets. You waited until those dull, thudding footsteps were too distant to hear, until you could bring yourself to sigh, to shrink, to glance toward the reddened bruises forming along your wrist. You might’ve done more, if you’d known what to do. You might’ve cried if you hadn’t still been able to feel Prince’s eyes on you, unblinking and ever-present.
So, instead, you picked yourself up, let your hands fall to your sides, and – like you would tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that – started towards your garden.
375 notes · View notes
hard-core-super-star · 8 months
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searching for redemption [K.Bishop]
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pairing: switch!kate bishop x bottom!reader x top!kate bishop
summary: a multiversal anomaly grants you and your girlfriend the opportunity to explore some of your more...intense desires.
warnings: pure smut -> minors, don't you dare interact with this [selfcest + threesome; kinda dubcon at the beginning 'cause R doesn't know it's another version of kate; slight degradation/humiliation [other kate is mean but in a good way]; strap-on sex [kate receiving]; cunnilingus [R receiving]; both kates are technically service tops but shhh; there's an element of tease and denial but it's sort of a background thing]
wordcount: 3.4k
a/n: this is quite literally the filthiest thing i've ever written so proceed with caution. this is a request/lowkey commission from a very lovely anonymous person so shoutout to them for all their ideas. i'm definitely not going to drop a link to my buy me a coffee for anyone else who might be interested. anyways, thank you for your support, i'll go back to writing pure fluff soon...maybe, hope you enjoy <3
* * * * * * *
You should've known something was different about your girlfriend the second she stepped foot in your shared apartment.
She had left early in the morning, mumbling something about Yelena and how the blonde was insistent on forcing her to have an actual training routine. Your complaints about it had been swallowed up by your exhaustion so the brunette was forced to leave since she couldn't come up with any excuses not to.
Needless to say, your day had been boring so, the second you heard the front door open, your mind was filled with the excitement of your girlfriend being back home. Excitement that didn't let you focus on the way Kate slammed the door shut behind her or the mumbled string of curses that followed.
“Well, what do we have here?”
The sound of her voice makes you smile and you turn to look at her over your shoulder. “Thought I would surprise my girlfriend with her favorite food. I would’ve gotten pizza but you always end up giving all your slices to Lucky.”
You catch the small roll of her eyes before you turn your attention back to the stove, turning off the flame before Kate distracts you and you burn the boxed macaroni…again.
She doesn’t reply immediately but you write it off as her being tired and nothing else. Until she speaks up again in a tone you’re not used to hearing from her.
“Fuck. You're perfect.”
“Is that you or your stomach talking?”
“Neither.”
You're about to ask her what she means when she crosses the space between you. Her hands grip your waist, pulling you backward until you collide with her body. The food you had been preparing gets forgotten the second you feel a certain hardness rubbing against your ass.
“You missed me that much?” You tease.
You’re expecting one of her usual responses. Maybe a whine or a witty comment or a barrage of kisses across your shoulders.
You don’t get any of that, though.
Instead, you get her calloused hands groping at your chest through the fabric of the worn-out band tee you stole from her closet. “Don’t be a brat, baby.”
The words are something you've only ever heard as a joke, a playful jab that never lands since you both know Kate’s the real brat. But today, they slip out of her mouth without a second thought as if she’s said them, and meant them, a thousand times before.
“Says the one ignoring my fantastic cooking skills.” You push back against her hips, expertly grinding against the strap-on hidden inside her pants and earning yourself a groan from her parted lips.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be complaining,” she mumbles.
Her hands leave your waist and all at once, she’s turning you around and pushing you up against the kitchen counter. You attempt to tease her again but she’s far quicker than you are.
She instantly leans in to capture your lips in a borderline desperate kiss as her hands explore your waist. You're no stranger to Kate's arousal-filled desperation, and you can't judge her since you're the same way sometimes, but there's something different about it.
Some underlying darkness that you can't quite place.
“Kate-” You attempt to pull away but she doesn't let you get far.
She ignores your half-formed moan, choosing instead to deepen the kiss while she hooks one of your legs over her hip to erase the already non-existent space left between your bodies. Her actions are unexpected but they only serve to fuel the gathering arousal in your underwear.
You’re too caught up in the feelings she creates inside you to hear the sound of the door opening again…until you hear a very familiar voice.
“What the fuck?”
You jump away from the archer only to find yourself staring at Kate.
Well, two Kates.
You briefly wonder if you’re dreaming but the remnants of Kate’s hands on your body feel far too real for any of this to be a dream. Which means you’re staring at not one but two versions of your girlfriend.
Versions that seem to be engaged in a very serious staring contest.
“Is this another one of Wanda’s little tricks?” The difference in her tone of voice is suddenly obvious. “‘Cause it wasn’t funny the first time.”
“What? No. I’m me…and you’re me…and you’re hot?” The way the brunette stumbles over her words confirms your suspicions.
You’ve been making out with another version of your girlfriend.
And you can’t find it in yourself to be too upset about it.
Clearly, this other version Kate doesn’t mind either. She steps away from you, her arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised. “Why do you sound so surprised? Have you never looked at yourself in the mirror?”
Kate’s eyes widen and you can make out the soft pink hue that spreads across her face. Her hands are balled into fists at her side, almost as if she’s ready to defend you from this other version of herself. “y/n?”
You know what she’s actually asking of you but you can’t stop yourself from adding fuel to the fire. “Well, you are hot.”
Your girlfriend stares at you like a fish out of water while her other self bursts out laughing. It should be weird and yet you find yourself smiling as if the fabric of the universe didn’t somehow rip to create this moment.
“See? This is why I love her.”
Kate’s flustered and slightly nonchalant attitude disappears instantly. “Hey, she’s my girlfriend.”
Her possessive nature can’t be stopped, not even when her only competition is literally herself.
“Excuse me, your girlfriend was enjoying everything I was doing.”
Her comment leaves you breathless and, unfortunately for all of you, your girlfriend knows exactly what that reaction means. It means the other Kate isn’t wrong. And the knowledge instantly sparks a reaction in your archer.
“Shut the fuck up.” She shoves the other version of herself and while the act isn’t technically aggressive, it prompts the other archer to respond the same way.
Their shoves turn into a, somewhat pathetic, attempt at fighting with each other. They’re somehow the exact same person which means every punch is anticipated and blocked accordingly, leaving them both to stumble toward the nearest wall while they try to outwit each other with increasingly illogical insults.
The sight is more entertaining than strange and your next words fly out of you far too fast to be stopped. “You guys should just kiss and make up, it’ll be faster.”
The smirk you receive in response gives you a clear idea of which Kate is currently being held against the wall. “I told you she was into it.”
Your archer reluctantly lets go of the other one, turning around to look at you, a weird mix of surprise and longing in her eyes. “You think we should…what?”
“I’m just saying,” you reply with a shrug. “What’s the use of fighting with yourself anyway?”
Kate stares at you, mouth agape, while her variant shoots you a wink over your girlfriend’s shoulder. It shouldn’t be hot but you learned a long time ago not to question the things you find attractive about the archer.
“Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”
“Thought about what?” Those eyes you love so much leave you as she waits for a response from her double.
“Kissing yourself.”
You have to fight against yourself not to laugh at the look that crosses your girlfriend’s face. “Excuse me?”
“Is she always this stubborn?” Kate rolls her eyes before pushing herself off the wall and approaching you again. The way she moves tells you there's a plan hiding inside her mind and you already know you’ll go along with whatever she wants.
“Don’t you already know the answer?” You reply, accepting the hand she holds out for you and jumping down from the counter. “You’re the same person.”
“Right again, darling.”
Your girlfriend’s intake of breath reaches your ears right as her variant pulls you in close. What you’re doing borders on insanity but you don’t care. Some experiences are worth losing your mind over.
She wordlessly checks in with you and the second you nod, her hands tangle in your hair and pull you into until there’s no space left between your lips. You know you should feel weird about what you're doing, maybe even a little guilty, but it’s impossible to deny the connection that runs between you, even if you’re different versions of the person the other one loves.
You almost expect your Kate to voice her displeasure and kick her variant out. But of course, that doesn’t happen. Because no one in this room can’t say they’re not more than a little curious to see where things go. To see how far they can go.
Kate pulls away from you, her lips pulled together somewhere between a giddy grin and a knowing smirk. It’s striking how different she seems to be despite being the archer you know and love. “Glad to see we’re on the same page, baby.”
“y/n?” The archer’s voice is barely audible over the pounding in your chest. “I…do you…is this what you want?”
You meet her eyes, both of you searching the other for any signs of discomfort. The only thing you find though are the very obvious signs of your girlfriend’s growing arousal. So, you nod. “Yeah. If you’re okay with it.”
“I…I mean, yeah. I think I am.”
“That was fast,” Kate’s variant teases. “Did watching me make out with your girlfriend turn you on that much?”
The answer is more than clear but the slight catch of her breath gives her away far too quickly. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
A few seconds of tense silence go by before you all collectively spring into action. It’s, admittedly, a mess of hands and lips but the three of you make it into the bedroom together. You lose track of who’s who until a pair of rough hands push you down onto the mattress.
Kate attempts to follow after you but her double stops her before she can get too far. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I, uh-” You watch as your girlfriend does her best to pull herself together. “Where do you think?”
“Nice try.” She pulls Kate against her body and you’re given a front row seat to the subtle expressions of pleasure your archer tries to hide. “You’re not going anywhere yet though. We have to give your girlfriend a good show.”
You have a pretty good idea of what she means and yet nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.
Your thighs instantly clench together while you watch the other Kate’s hands trail underneath your girlfriend’s shirt. The fabric in the way stops you from seeing much but your girlfriend’s body and the feeling of her skin in your hands is forever ingrained into your brain.
“What-” Her words get caught in her throat and all that comes out instead is a breathy moan.
“Do you ever stop talking?” The variant’s words slip out in between groans, her hips sliding back and forth against Kate’s ass. “Just let yourself feel good, I know what you want.”
You watch, entranced, as Kate’s lips trail a path down your archer’s neck, slowly coaxing her tense shoulders into relaxing as her head tilts back. “You…are way too sure of yourself.”
It’s impossible not to laugh at her words, mainly because you’ve said them at least a hundred times and she never believes you. Your amusement is shared by the other archer and she shoots you a small smile. “Maybe…but I’ll bet anything you’re already dripping for me.”
The words aren’t technically meant for you but your moan tangles with Kate’s. In all honesty, you’ve been dripping since your little makeout session in the kitchen and your clit throbs so hard, you’re sure a mere gust of wind would be enough to make you cum. It really would be so easy to slip your hand-
“No touching, sweetheart. Be a good girl and wait for us.”
The thought of having to wait more than a few seconds is unbearable but there’s no way you’ll disobey this dominant version of your girlfriend. You’ve always had your suspicions that Kate holds back her rougher side around you and this, strange and unexpected, meeting merely confirms your thoughts.
You’re tempted to beg just to see what reaction you’ll get out of both of them.
Instead, you groan and position your hands above your head, gripping the pillow hard enough to leave nail marks in the fabric.
Your own struggle leaves you unaware of the storm brewing inside your girlfriend. A storm full of unspoken desires and a need to get her hands on something.
The position she’s in makes it hard for her to even attempt to fight for control but she tries anyway. Hesitant hands reach out behind her to blindly run her fingers across whatever skin she can find.
“I told you it would feel good.” Her other self murmurs against the flushed skin of her neck. “I know everything you like. I know all the spots that drive you wild.”
“Please.”
Your girlfriend’s slightly whiny voice forces you to focus again. Unfortunately, the sight you focus on merely serves to drive you further toward the edge of desperation. “God, will you just hurry up and fuck each other already?”
Your words make both versions of the archer halt their movements.
Two pairs of wide eyes stare you down but while one looks flustered enough to turn into a puddle on the floor, the other one regards you as if you're her next meal. It's dizzying and pleasurable all at the same time and you know the squirming of your legs gives you away instantly.
“I see you still haven't tamed your brat.” Kate rolls her eyes but there's far too much excitement on her face for the action to be believable. “Too bad I can't deny her anything.”
Time somehow slows down and speeds up at the same time.
You're still left neglected on the bed but the two brunettes finally start removing the many obstacles in the way. Your girlfriend gets turned around easily and you're barely able to keep yourself together when she works up enough courage to kiss the other version of herself.
Surprisingly steady hands reach out to tear away at shirts and clumsily pull at pants.
It feels like both an eternity and a second until they're both standing naked in front of you and you're panting just from the sight of them. Your patience is finally rewarded when your girlfriend climbs on top of you, hushed murmurs of how perfect you are getting lost as her hands explore your desperate skin.
“Kate,” you moan, your hands reaching out for her.
“I know, baby, I'm getting there.” There's the slightest hint of a tease in her tone but it comes more serious than you've ever heard it from her. You don't know what being physical with a variant of herself has done to your girlfriend but you don't really care as long as she’ll finally give you what you want.
What you want comes in the form of four hands pushing and pulling at your clothes until you're left vulnerable under both of them.
The sight of your drenched folds makes them both groan but it's your archer who moves first. “Fuck, y/n, you look so good like this. All mine to play with.”
The more dominant of the two merely smirks, content to watch while Kate trails a path of kisses down your body.
“Please.” This time, you're the one who begs and your hands instinctively wrap around the archer’s as she holds your legs open.
She doesn't say anything in response, she merely leans in and lets her mouth explore your wetness. There's nothing new about her motions but there's a certain confidence behind them that you've never seen before.
Your girlfriend, usually slow and gentle, instantly attaches herself to your swollen clit, her tongue flicking relentlessly against your sensitive bud.
You're too lost in your own pleasure to notice the movements of her variant…until you literally feel Kate moan into your cunt.
It's hard for your eyes to focus but once they do, you're left bucking your hips up and clenching around nothing. You watch through wide eyes as Kate’s variant thrusts into her soaked pussy, strong hands gripping her hips while she fucks her at an equally relentless pace.
Holding your head up is a challenge but you manage, unwilling to look away from such a tantalizing sight.
You whine when Kate’s lips detach from your clit and it takes no time for her other self to grip onto her hair and push her face down into your cunt. “Fuck her like you mean it, Katie.”
Whatever response your girlfriend had fades away as you messily grind against her face. She wastes no time in giving you what you need, her grip tightening in an attempt to keep you still.
There's no way for any of you to stop yourself from squirming and grinding into each other in some way and the room quickly falls into a continued chorus of grunts and moans.
You can hear the sound of the other archer’s voice but you're too far gone to make out the words she says.
Kate isn't though and the mix between being praised and degraded makes her clench around the strap buried deep inside of herself. Which only prompts more humiliatingly pleasurable words from lips that are basically identical to her own.
“Fuck, this is what you needed, isn't it? To be fucked so good you're forced to give in to all those nasty thoughts in your head? It feels so good, doesn't it, Kate?”
Hearing her own name in her own voice while she's being pounded into by herself feels far too good not to admit it. And the sounds of pleasure that escape her lips push you right over the edge almost instantly.
“Kate!” The archer’s name is the only warning you can give before you slam head-first into an earth-shattering orgasm.
“Fuck-” Both Kates respond at the same time as they're both pushed over the edge by different things.
Your girlfriend falls apart the second she feels your release soak her chin and the sight of both of you completely fucked out beneath her causes her variant to crash into her own orgasm.
You're sure you blackout for a few bliss-filled moments and when you open your eyes again, you're greeted with the sight of your girlfriend sprawled out on top of you, her heavy pants lightly tickling your skin.
You turn your head to the side and find her variant, panting just as heavily beside you, her hand clutching yours, the toy covered in your girlfriend’s release still attached to her hips.
You're in the middle of forming a plan to get your hands on her when she speaks up. “That was…wow.”
The sound of her voice makes your archer lift her face from your chest, a wide grin on her face. “You can say that again.”
You hate how well you know her because her features give away the words she’s not willing to say. “You want to leave, don't you?”
Your voice is a hoarse whisper after all the loud moaning you've done but they both hear you. There's a beat of silence, two sets of eyebrows furrowing, and then your answer.
“Yeah…I just…I don't know how I got here but I need to get back home. To you…my version of you.”
She looks genuinely apologetic and you would laugh if you weren't so tired. “I get it. As amazing as this was, this isn't your home.”
“But feel free to come back anytime,” Kate says, completing the other half of your thoughts. “You, uh, taught us a lot.”
“Mmm, did she? I think we already knew you were full of yourself.”
“Yeah, but she made it literal.”
Your girlfriend gets a chuckle out of both you and her variant but it's not enough of a reward for her.
It happens in the blink of an eye but suddenly Kate is sitting up and pulling her other self into a rough kiss, her hands tangled in her hair and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip.
The sight is somehow more attractive than the first time and all three of you are left breathless once they pull away. Giving Kate the satisfaction she was looking for.
Her variant leaves, once she manages to pull herself together again, and you and Kate, your Kate, stay in bed for a while. There's an unspoken understanding about what she's discovered about herself but she finally speaks up after a while.
“So…do you think we can try bondage next?”
“Yeah. I honestly always thought you were a little vanilla in bed.”
Your response earns you a glare…and an overachieving archer who goes above and beyond to show you how wrong you truly are.
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aziraphales-library · 5 months
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Can you suggest some heart-warming fics to soothe our souls after the S2 ending? Just some nice Canon compliant fics of them being hopelessly (and obliviously) in love?
P.s I loved Marriage Lines by Bil, it was so beautiful and fluffy.
You can check our #fluff tag for lots of soft content. Here are some fluffy and (at the time they were written!) canon compliant fics...
A Companion to Lonely Angels by eggheadwizard (T)
“I’m afraid,” Aziraphale says, attempting his stern voice but not quite managing to get it right, “of being lonely.” - Aziraphale's never felt so alone before. Crawley gives him a hug. (Set directly after A Companion to Owls.)
Beauty in the Everyday by stressedcat (G)
A fluffy little oneshot set on a rainy day just prior to S2 because I haven't been able to get Good Omens off my mind since July! They're clueless but I love them. Even though they don't talk about their feelings enough to know how they feel about each other, I think A & C bring each other a lot of comfort.
Of Poetry and Valentines by Aethelflaed (G)
Crowley can't stand what Valentines Day has become. If he has to look at one more heart-covered cake, he's going to be sick. But it wasn't always that way. Or: Aziraphale receives a series of mysterious, anonymous Valentine's Day cards.
Falling in love in Berkley Square by born_to_read (G)
“The 36 Questions that lead to love: 36 questions which will make two people fall in love with each other,” Crowley recited what was on the page, “Sounds like a load of hogwash to me”
Book of Love by Gorillazgal86 (T)
Love is written in the smallest moments shared, a glance, a brush of skin, a kindly spoken word. It is the simple everyday acts of affection that write the sweetest tales.
In Muted Tone by sobakasu & sssnakelady (T)
Breathing isn’t of much importance to their bodies. Crowley commands focus on it all the same. In, out, one, two, again and again. Breathing is something living things do and each greedy intake of air reminds him of it. He’d watched Aziraphale’s chest rise and fall too, the desperation in his eyes hidden behind his glasses. They’d enjoyed a bottle of wine on the way to Crowley’s flat, sat close on the bus so that they were touching from hip to knee to heel. Neither of them talked of it. Talked of anything much at all, but the solid presence against his leg had let him know he wasn’t alone. It is roughly ten thirty PM on a Saturday night. The night that Armageddon didn’t. They are three bottles of wine in and Aziraphale is rambling.
And the one you mentioned...
Marriage Lines by Bil (G)
Crowley said, voice very carefully even, “So, were you ever planning on telling me that we were married?” In which Aziraphale finds an unexpected surprise, contemplates parchment and copperplate, visits a picture framer, and eventually gets his happy ending.
- Mod D
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