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#SIGH….LOVE THIS FIGMENT OF MY I
deadwooddross · 2 years
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Do You Believe In Guardian Angels?
Randomly possessed to render this neon vision of Umami in order to continue about my day…what an odd thing to ask (SHE/HER)
PATREON
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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YK WHAT URGH
#instead of letting the loneliness i've been feeling for all these years tie me down#i'll use it as material to craft my own wings#and. there's no need to fly near the sun anyways#even if i fall and drown then that's better than getting close#hsjfjdjjs writinf inspo again#i wna listen to more artists like we are the fallen and hozier bcs i love the lyrics#n read books. read more mythology again#i need to write. before i enivitably leave#maybe another lonely soul a century for now would find and read it#sigh this feels so freeing#i don't care anymore i don't care#i was lying to myself about that last month but#now i really don't care. and finally i feel a bit more free. some weight taken off my shoulders#but at the same time idk if i'm exaggerating or just dramatic bcs i'm often like that#i like writing like this.#it's both rather destructive and healing. a mix of realness and fiction.#but it's me. that's what matters. these are my words. my thoughts#written from hands no other than my own. born from these memories and emotions across time#from my life. what exists n what's just a figment of my mind. of fragments of what could've become reality#i believe all that defines me#and i'm me so. i'll embrace and accept all that as well#this world's not made for people like me#too cruel for the wishers and the dreamers.#but stay true to myself n i'll leave my own pure and real legacy#and i'll make it through to the end. walking the path i've forged on my own#if i can't live properly in the rules of this world#then i'll live in my own. the one in my head. i'll rise#the dreamers are the ones that'll live beyond the shackles of our fragile existence#the ones that'll see beyond the edge of the sky. with sould deeper than the ocean. minds more complex than the world around them#maybe i don't belong in this world. maybe i'm meant to be in the stories i write in my head. but i'll live in what way i can
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yueebby · 9 months
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how i met your mother  — gojo satoru
contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it
notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!
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“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!” 
just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips.  “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.
this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.
“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.
the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.
“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests. 
nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.
you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection. 
“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it. 
“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.” 
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2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech
meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo
that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed. 
the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.
a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.
“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.
“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.
another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think. 
“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.
a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.
a low whistle comes out of his mouth. 
 “oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.”  you want to laugh.
out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”
thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.
soon after her arrival, yaga comes.
“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.
“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face. 
you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?” 
there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.
“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–” 
there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.” 
he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it. 
a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”
“that’s not really the case.”
“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.
you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.
“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.
gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto. 
unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”
from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?” 
you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.
“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly. 
what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.
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2018 — present day
your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story. 
“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.
“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.
there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”
you smack his shoulder.
“be serious!”
he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!” 
you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.
“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.
“let me finish!”
you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”
there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”
“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.
“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!” 
“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously. 
the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.
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extra notes- 
yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.
there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).
gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.
this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.
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pucksandpower · 7 months
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Fairytale
Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc has everything he could ask for (off the track, at least) including a fairytale romance … except no one actually believes that his girlfriend is really his girlfriend
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Charles sighs as he walks into the drivers’ lounge, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. Ever since he had casually mentioned having a girlfriend, and more specifically who the girlfriend in question is, his friends have been merciless.
“Wow, if it isn’t Prince Charles in the flesh! Back from another romantic getaway with his imaginary princess,” Max laughs as he enters.
“Come on mates, lay off,” Charles pleads half-heartedly. He knows it is useless.
“I just don’t get it,” Lando chimes in. “There’s no shame in admitting that you’re single. We’re racing drivers, we don’t exactly always have time for relationships.”
“Maybe his standards are too high,” Pierre suggests. “He’s actually holding out for real royalty or something.”
The others laugh as Charles feels his face grow warm. If only they believed him.
“You know what you need?” Carlos grins. “A nice Spanish girl to set you up with. My sister’s friend Elena is single, I could give you her number.”
Charles rolls his eyes. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because we’ve never seen her!” Max exclaims. “You talk about her all the time but she never comes to races or appears in photos. She might as well be a unicorn.”
“Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be seen with Charles,” Lando teases.
Charles frowns, stung by Lando’s words. If only they knew the truth. The reality is that his girlfriend is extremely famous in her own right and values the little privacy she has left too much to be seen at races. Her life is already public enough without adding the scrutiny that anyone connected to a Formula 1 driver inevitably receives on top of it. Besides, she has her own royal duties to attend to.
“Come on guys, that’s unfair,” Pierre says gently, noticing Charles’ discomfort. “If Charles says he has a girlfriend, we should believe him.”
“Thank yo—” Charles starts to say with relief. At least someone is on his side.
“Even if she is imaginary,” Pierre adds with a smirk.
Charles groans and puts his head in his hands as the laughter starts up again. He can’t really blame them for not believing him.
You are basically a fairytale princess — beautiful, elegant, and kind. Not to mention an actual member of the royal family. Her Serene Highness Princess Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline of Monaco is the type of girl people write epic poems and songs about. Charles can hardly believe his luck that you had chosen him.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Daniel interrupts, taking pity on Charles. “Leave the poor man alone.”
“We’re just joking,” Max says defensively. “Charles knows we don’t mean anything by it.”
Charles gives Max a tight smile. “Sure.”
“Tell you what,” Daniel says, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “Bring your mystery girl to a race soon. We’ll all get to meet her and then you can finally prove these jokers wrong.”
Charles sighs. If only it were that simple. You have been tempted to attend races in the past but the scrutiny both of them would come under is just too much. You treasure the privacy your relationship allows. But maybe Daniel is right. Maybe it is time for you to finally meet his friends. After all, you are the love of his life. There is nothing to hide.
“Alright, deal,” Charles says finally. “I’ll ask her.”
The others exchange surprised looks, not expecting him to agree.
“Can’t wait to meet her,” Carlos says with a wink.
Charles rolls his eyes again but smiles. One way or another, he is going to prove to them that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination.
***
Charles is still thinking about you when he is suddenly accosted by Silvia, Ferrari’s Head of Communications, after practice.
“Charles! Just who I was looking for,” she says briskly. “I need to discuss something rather important with you.”
Charles suppresses a groan. Conversations with Silvia are never fun. “What’s up?” He asks with forced cheerfulness.
Silvia lowers her voice. “It’s about your relationship status. We feel it would be beneficial if you were seen dating someone … compatible.”
Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Compatible?”
“Yes. A model. Or perhaps an actress. Someone who would look good on your arm and boost your image.”
Charles folds his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with my girlfriend?”
Silvia waves a hand impatiently. “Yes yes, this alleged princess you keep mentioning. The problem, Charles, is that no one has seen her. No one knows if she is actually connected to you in any way. So, as far as we are concerned, for all intents and purposes, you are single.”
Charles frowns. This again. “I keep telling you that she’s really my girlfriend. Y/N is just very private.”
“Private women don’t date Formula 1 drivers,” Silvia says bluntly. “If she really was in a relationship with you, she would be here. But since that is clearly a figment of your imagination, we need to take steps.”
Charles feels his blood boil. How dare Silvia insult his relationship with Y/N? Question their connection?
“Here are profiles of suitable options,” Silvia continues, shoving a surprisingly heavy folder at him. Charles doesn’t open it.
“No.”
Silvia blinks. “No?”
“My relationship with Y/N is off limits,” Charles says firmly. “My personal life is exactly that — personal. Not to be exploited for PR.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Silvia snaps. “This is bigger than you. Your image reflects on Ferrari. We need to be able to control it.”
“No. What you need to do is back off,” Charles shoots back.
Silvia’s nostrils flare. Clearly she isn’t used to such defiance. “Charles, be reasonable—”
“I am being reasonable,” Charles interrupts. “I won’t pretend to date someone just because the team wants me to. I’m with Y/N. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
Silvia shakes her head in disgust. “You’re making a big mistake. Don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”
She storms off, heels clicking angrily against the floor.
Charles takes a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He can’t remember the last time he stood up to Silvia like that. It felt good but also nerve-wracking. He knows she won’t let this go easily.
His phone buzzes and his heart leaps when he sees it’s a text from you.
Heard you had a rough day. Wish I could be there to make it better. I love you 💋
Charles smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing. You always knew just what to say and when to say it.
He quickly types back.
I wish you were here too. No matter what anyone says, they can’t change my feelings for you. I love you so much ❤️
He hits send, imagining your smile as you read his text. It doesn’t matter what his team, the media, or even his fellow drivers think. His relationship with you is real and authentic. Someday he’ll find a way for you to be by his side. But for now, your private moments together are enough.
Charles knows staying with you is the right decision, PR be damned. You are his soulmate — the fairytale princess he never expected to find but thanks God every single day that he did. Your love is worth fighting for. And someday, when the time is right, he’ll finally be able to show the world that what you have together is very real.
***
Charles groans as he notices multiple missed calls from his brothers. He has been avoiding their calls lately, knowing they would just tease him mercilessly about his girlfriend. But he knows he can’t dodge them forever.
Taking a deep breath, he calls Arthur back.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charles himself, taking time away from his busy schedule of dating princesses to spare a chat with us commoners,” Arthur says slyly upon answering.
Charles rolls his eyes. “Very funny. What do you want?”
“We just wanted to check in on our brother and see how life with Monegasque royalty is treating you,” Lorenzo chimes in. Charles realizes he must be on speaker.
“Oh yes, Princess Y/N,” Arthur says in an exaggerated swoony voice. “Our brother’s one true love since he was 15 years old and had that giant poster of her plastered on his wall.”
Charles feels his face flush. He knows exactly what poster Arthur is referencing — a stunning photo of you in a ballgown from a high society event years ago. Teenage Charles has ripped it out of a magazine and hung it up reverently in his room, gazing at it longingly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sputters. “I never had a poster.”
“Oh really?” Lorenzo laughs. “I seem to recall you cutting out every picture you could find of her and keeping a little scrapbook.”
Charles cringes internally. Okay, maybe his teenage obsession had been a bit … enthusiastic. But he can’t help that he had recognized you as his dream girl even then.
“Alright, so maybe I had a tiny crush on her,” Charles admits. “But it is not crazy that we ended up together.”
Arthur cackles. “You used to kiss her photos goodnight before going to bed! You were completely obsessed!”
“Remember how he tried to sneak into that royal gala at Salle des Etoiles to see her?” Lorenzo adds. “He was totally insane.”
Charles grimaces at the memory. Okay, not his finest moment.
“Face it Charles, you’ve been in love with the imaginary idea of Princess Y/N since you were in nappies,” Arthur teases. “No shame in admitting she wouldn't even give you the time of day now.”
Charles feels his frustration rising. Why does no one believe him?
“Because your so-called relationship makes no sense!” Lorenzo says, accurately reading his silence. “She’s a literal princess and you’re … you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Charles grumbles. He knows his brothers are just teasing but it still stings.
“Come on, just admit you made the whole thing up to get everyone off your back,” Arthur prods.
Charles sighs loudly. “For the millionth time, what we have is 100 percent real! Just because it seems unlikely doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I don’t care if none of you believe me, I love her and she loves me.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“You alright there?” Arthur asks, his voice softening.
“Yes, I just wish everyone would stop questioning my relationship all the time,” Charles admits. “It hurts.”
“We’re only joking Charles, we don’t mean any harm,” Lorenzo says gently.
“I know,” Charles replies. “Doesn’t make it any easier to hear constantly though.”
“You’re right, we took the teasing too far,” Arthur says. “We’ll lay off from now on.”
Charles smiles slightly. “Thanks. And someday soon I will prove to you that it is real.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Arthur finally laughs.
Charles groans and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Clearly nothing he says would convince his stubborn brothers that his relationship with you was real and not merely a childhood fantasy.
“Alright, well, I should get going,” Charles mumbles, eager to get off the phone.
“Chin up, we’re only teasing,” Lorenzo says lightly. “Have fun with your imaginary princess!”
Arthur and Lorenzo explode into more laughter as Charles quickly hangs up, his face burning. Someday, he will prove to them and everyone else that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination. No matter how long it takes.
***
Charles sinks into the familiar couch in his sports psychologist’s office, exhausted after a long day on the simulator and endless teasing from his team.
“Rough day out there?” Dr. Anderson asks kindly, noticing the strain on Charles’ face.
“That’s an understatement,” Charles sighs. “The car is just so slow this year. We keep trying new setups and tweaks but nothing helps. And the strategy is somehow even worse than the pace. It’s like the team wants me to fail.”
Dr. Anderson nods sympathetically. “That must be very frustrating. Tell me more about how it’s impacting you.”
Charles launches into a tirade about the endless issues with the car, the incompetent strategists, and the lack of proper communication from his engineers. Dr. Anderson listens patiently, letting him vent his pent-up anger and disappointment.
After a lengthy rant, Charles finally runs out of steam. “Anyway, it’s just been a terrible season,” he concludes glumly.
“I can certainly understand why you feel that way,” Dr. Anderson says. “It sounds like the team is letting you down in many ways.”
Charles nods, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders after unloading. It helps to talk about it with someone whose job is not to judge.
“Is there anything else bothering you lately?” Dr. Anderson asks gently. “Any other sources of stress?”
Charles hesitates. He and Dr. Anderson have been working together for years, ever since he joined Ferrari. He knows he can open up to her.
“It’s just … well, besides the team stuff, no one believes me about my girlfriend,” he admits.
Dr. Anderson raises her eyebrows. “I see. Tell me more about that.”
Charles explains the endless teasing from his fellow drivers, the manipulation attempts by the PR team, and the doubtful reactions from his own family. How despite his best efforts, no one seems willing to accept that he is really dating Princess Y/N of Monaco.
“It’s so frustrating!" He bursts out at the end. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince them that we are actually together.”
Dr. Anderson purses her lips, jotting down notes. “I can understand why their doubt would upset you. It must be painful to have your relationship questioned.”
“Exactly!" Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up. “You get it. I knew I could talk to you.”
Dr. Anderson gives him a sympathetic smile.
Charles leaves the appointment feeling much better, confident that his psychologist believes him and is on his side.
As he is exiting, Charles notices Dr. Anderson’s notebook left open on her desk. Before he can stop himself, his eyes scan the page and focus on his name.
He feels his heart sink as he reads.
Charles Leclerc: deflecting from pain of difficult season by creating elaborate fantasy relationship. Fixation on celebrity crush indicates deeper self-esteem issues. Recommend to confront delusion directly in next session.
Charles reels, shock and anger swirling through him. Not even his own psychologist believes him! She thinks he is living in some weird fantasy.
Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Charles straightens his shoulders and walks out. He has never felt more alone and frustrated in his conviction. But he refuses to give up. No matter what anyone says, his love for you is real. And one day, somehow, he will prove it to the world.
***
Charles is back at his family home in Monaco during a rare few days off. He is puttering around the kitchen while his mother cooks dinner.
“Oh, by the way, Y/N is coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles mentions casually. “I want you all to finally meet her.”
Pascale laughs lightly without looking up from the stove. “Of course, sweetie.”
Charles frowns. “I’m serious, maman. She’ll be here in an hour.”
“Mhmm, I’m sure she will,” Pascale replies indulgently. Charles huffs in annoyance.
Just then, his brothers come into the kitchen, freshly showered after playing football outside.
“Hey Charles, how’s life with your imaginary girlfriend?” Lorenzo immediately teases.
“She’s actually coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles says tersely.
Arthur lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah right! Good one.” He grabs a piece of bread from the counter, still chuckling.
Charles throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why does no one ever believe me about her?”
“Boys, that’s enough,” Pascale chides gently. “Let your brother dream.”
Charles opens his mouth to retort but just then, the doorbell rings. His eyes widen.
“I’ll get it!" He yells, dashing for the door. He takes a deep breath before swinging it open to reveal you standing there casually in jeans and a sweater, looking effortlessly gorgeous.
“Surprise!" You laugh, pulling him into a tight hug. Charles melts into your embrace, all his stress and frustration fading away.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” he murmurs into your hair.
You pull back to smile at him tenderly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I want your family to know how much I love you.”
Charles grins and takes your hand, leading your into the kitchen where his stunned family waits.
Pascale’s mouth is hanging open in shock. The piece of bread Arthur is holding falls to the floor with a dull thump.
“Y-your Serene Highness,” Pascale finally manages to stammer out, hastily wiping her hands on a towel. “What an honor, we weren’t expecting you ...”
She shoots an accusatory look at Charles, who throws up his hands defensively. “I told you she was coming!”
Pascale flushes. “Yes, well, I didn’t think … that is … we would have prepared ...”
You step forward gracefully, immediately putting Pascale at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N. I’ve been dying to meet Charles’ family.”
As you effortlessly charm his mother and brothers, Charles stands back watching with a satisfied smile. The shock and sheepishness on his family’s faces is vindicating after so many months of teasing and disbelief.
Charles has never been one to say “I told you so” but … I told you so.
***
The cheers of the crowd are deafening as the chequered flag waves for Charles at the Monaco Grand Prix. He can hardly believe it — finally, a win at his home race!
As he pulls into parc fermé and jumps out of the car, the emotions hit him. Pure elation at ending the long wait for a home victory. Relief at overcoming the team’s doubts. But most of all, excitement for what comes next.
The podium ceremony.
And with the Monegasque royal family presenting the trophies as usual, Charles knows exactly who will be handing him the winner’s trophy.
He can barely stand still through the anthems, eager for his moment with you. The weekend has been agony, so close to you yet having to pretend that there is nothing between the two of you.
But not anymore.
At last, the royal family walks onto the podium led by none other than Princess Y/N. Charles’ heart skips a beat at the sight of you gliding towards him in a figure-hugging red midi dress, sunlight glinting off your carefully styled hair. You somehow manage to become more and more beautiful every time he sees you.
Stopping in front of him, you give him a subtle wink before launching into the customary congratulatory speech. Charles nods along, not hearing a word as he zones out while admiring the stunning woman he gets to call his own.
At last, you turn to pick up the trophy. “It is my honor to present this trophy to our victor, who represents Monaco with pride in everything he does, Charles Leclerc,” you announce, holding it out to him with a brilliant smile.
In that moment, Charles throws all caution to the wind. As he accepts the trophy, he reaches out and pulls you into a passionate kiss.
The crowd below erupts in shocked cheers and screams. You melt into the kiss for a blissful moment before gently pulling back, your eyes sparkling. Charles grins at you breathlessly.
“Worth the wait?” He murmurs.
“Absolutely,” you whisper back, squeezing his hand. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour.”
Turning back to the roaring crowd, Charles wraps an arm around your waist and thrusts your linked hands into the air in triumph.
Looking out at the paddock, Charles sees the priceless dumbfounded looks on his fellow drivers’ faces. The Ferrari PR team looks ready to pass out in horror. Reporters are screaming questions and snapping photos frantically.
But Charles only has eyes for the radiant princess at his side. At long last, he has made your love public for the whole world to see.
Later, after celebrations around the circuit have started winding down in favor of moving to lounges and clubs for the night, Charles and you escape for a private moment together.
“That was quite the reveal,” you say with an amused quirk of your eyebrow.
Charles laughs. “I know, subtlety has never been my strong suit. I hope you don’t mind.”
You caress his face tenderly. “Of course not. I’m happy to finally be by your side. No more hiding.”
Charles kisses you deeply, all the love and longing of the past months pouring into it.
When you finally break apart, foreheads touching, he murmurs, “No more doubts. No more teasing. They all know now that you’re real and all mine.”
“Forever yours,” you whisper back. And seal it with another perfect kiss.
***
“I can’t believe it. I just … actually can’t believe it,” Max mutters, staring at the large screens around the paddock that are showing you and Charles gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes during the post-race interviews.
“Lord Perceval … dating an actual princess,” Carlos muses in disbelief.
“And not just any princess, his teenage celebrity crush!" Lando exclaims.
“I guess we owe him an apology,” Pierre says sheepishly.
“Big time,” Daniel agrees. “We gave him so much crap for making her up.”
“Speak of the devil,” Max mutters as Charles strides into the room, hand-in-hand with you.
An awkward silence descends on the group. Charles clears his throat, enjoying their obvious discomfort.
“I believe you all know my girlfriend, Her Serene Highness Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline, Hereditary Princess of Monaco and Marquise of Baux. But you can just call her Your Serene Highness or Princess Y/N,” he says politely.
The guys mumble greetings, not quite meeting your eyes. You smile graciously. “You can just call me Y/N. Any friend of Charles is a friend of mine and there’s no need for titles around friends.”
Charles narrows his eyes. “Actually I don’t think that will be necessary. I believe they should maintain protocol and address you properly.”
You shoots him a look. “Darling, it’s fine, really. I want your friends to feel comfortable around me.”
But Charles crosses his arms, not budging. “No, it’s not fine. I must insist that they observe the formal mode of address for royalty.”
The drivers shift awkwardly again. You pull Charles aside with a soothing smile.
“What are you doing?” You whisper. “I’m trying to put them at ease.”
“I know but they deserve to squirm for a bit after how much they mocked us,” Charles whispers back petulantly.
You bite back a smile. “Don’t be silly. I know their teasing hurt but let’s move past it. Can you really blame them for thinking it sounds like a made up fairytale? Put yourself in their shoes.”
Charles sighs. “I guess you’re right ... I just want them to respect you.”
“They will, in time,” you say gently. “But forcing them to be overly formal won’t accomplish that. I’m still just me.”
Charles nods reluctantly. “Okay fine, we’ll do it your way.”
You turn back to the drivers who are trying to act natural and pretending that they didn’t just listen in on your conversation with a bright smile. “I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you say. “Charles speaks very highly of his fellow drivers.”
“We’re, uh, happy to finally meet you too,” Max manages to get out.
“Yeah, congrats mate,” Daniel offers weakly.
More awkward silence follows. Charles smirks, deciding to twist the knife a bit more.
“I know you all had your doubts about me landing a catch like Y/N,” he says casually. “But I can’t blame you. Even I can hardly believe someone so incredible would fall for me.”
He gazes at you adoringly as you blush prettily while the drivers fidget uneasily.
“Anyway, as you can now see, she’s real and we are happier than ever!" Charles concludes brightly.
“We’re really sorry for not believing you,” Lando bursts out sincerely. “And all the teasing.”
The others chime in with apologies and congratulations. Charles graciously accepts, reassuring them no hard feelings.
After you have throughly charmed them all and departed, the group surrounds Charles excitedly.
“Alright, you have to give us all the details,” Max demands. “How did you meet? How did you get her to go out with you? When did it get serious?”
Charles just laughs. “It’s a long story. But the important thing is that she’s the only one for me. Despite everyone doubting us, our love was real from the start.”
“Pretty epic to have a real life princess as your soulmate,” Pierre says dreamily.
“Just remember you knew me back when you all thought she was imaginary,” Charles jokes.
“We’ll never live it down,” Carlos groans goodnaturedly.
Charles smiles, feeling lighter and happier than he has in ages. The long struggle to prove himself has been worth it. Now he has everything — the win, the girl, and the utter shock and joy of proving to the world that even his wildest dreams can come true.
And this is only the beginning for him and his beloved princess.
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kitscutie · 7 months
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Hi, I wanted you to make a fanfic about Rafe (obx) in which he dates a pogue, he is very ashamed of her for being poor, I wanted something with a lot of anguish and maybe a happy ending?
favourite crime (rafe cameron x fem!reader)
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: starts with smut, middle is angst, happy ending!
summary: you and rafe are dating but keeping it secret so that his family doesn't stop him from seeing you since you're a pogue. at least that's what he told you.
a/n: requests are open!
word count: 2.7k
join my taglist here.
"Fuck baby." Rafe said as he sat below you shirtless, your hips grinding down into his rhythmically. The two of you had been together for four months now. Boyfriend and girlfriend.
You were no longer just his friendly hook up whenever Ward pissed him off or Barry wouldn't give him his fix of coke, you were his.
His hands gripped your waist tightly, knuckles turning white from pleasure even when you were both still clothed from the wait down, well you both had underwear on at least.
"Get these off." He grunted, lifting you up onto your knees as you straddled him to wean your underwear down lour legs and into his pocket. He had a collection at Tanny Hill now. Not for him but as a way of keeping some of you here which was useful since you spent ninety nine percent of your nights here.
"You eager or something?" You joked knowing you were in fact the desperate one. You had been working at the Country Club all day and you could only put up with so many stuck up bitches before a tether within you snapped.
"Mhm, believe whatever you want princess." He mumbled, occupied in pulling his own boxers off. "My desperate girl." He smirked as his hand caressed your face, your own body settling down onto his as your bare skin finally met.
"You gonna get to it, or keep me waiting?" You asked, leaning down to bit the very tip of his thumb in a way that always drove him slightly crazy.
With that he chuckled, eyes darkening as he flipped you over, him now on top of you. Two of his fingers circled you clit slowly, too slowly making you more desperate than you were to begin with.
"Rafe." You whined, hips bucking in an attempt to increase the speed of his digits.
"Patience, pretty girl. I always give you what you want, huh?" You nodded in response, eyes closing as you gripped his hair when he slipped them inside with ease. You were already dripping and needy for him, he knew that. He loved it.
"Mhm, I do. So you're gonna be good for me, alright?" He once again asked, knowing you couldn't respond even if you wanted do though he enjoyed watching you squirm. "Think you've earned this?" He questioned, hand leaving you to pump at himself much quicker than he had touched you.
Your hand reached to pull his own away and towards your face, growing impatient. "Please?" You asked, giving him the eyes you knew no man could resist.
"Okay, baby." He finally gave in, lining himself up at your truly dipping entrance. This was all you had wanted all day and it was finally coming true, no longer just a figment of your day dreams.
You sighed out in both relief and pleasure as he pushed his cock into you. He pinned your hands down above you head with his own, fingers interlocked. It was subtle reassurance that no matter how wrapped up in the moment you both were it was just the two of you together.
"Fuck." He moaned, hips pushing into yours like they did each time you fucked, skilfully and measured. If Rafe was good at one thing, it was sex.
You bit your lip to contain your moans, no one was home and they never were when you came over seeing as your relationship was completely secret until he overcame the fear of what Ward would say.
He despised Pogues, as did Rafe but you slowly came to learn it wasn't the general idea of Pogues it was specific ones like John B and his friends, mostly JJ.
Rafe didn't hate you, he couldn't even if he tried.
"Love having you under me like this, so needy." He teased watching as tears dripped from beneath your eyelashes the harder he fucked into you. "Look so beautiful, my girl."
"I love you so much." You finally spoke though it was whispered and strained. With that Rafe knew you were close and so his skilled fingers once again found your clit drawing tight hard circles into the skin.
"Love you too baby." He grunted as he reached his own climax alongside yours. He kept going, even as he grew tired letting you ride out your high that he knew you needed.
Once it was over and you winced with sensitivity he pulled out slowly, allowing your body to adjust to the empty feeling which made you whimper just as much as being overstimulated.
He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you close to your chest even though the two of you were damp with sweat, hair stuck to your skin.
"You're it for me, you know that right?" He said into the silence and darkness as he gently stroked your hair.
"And you me." You responded placing a feather light kiss to his chest, even though he would never ask, that reassurance was like a weight lifted off of his shoulders.
You were his, no matter what.
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The next day you left him early with a kiss to his forehead and an 'I love you' whispered into the dark room.
You had to work and though you wished you could spend every second of everyday in that room with that boy you didn't have the money to do so, you never wanted Rafe to feel pressured to support you, especially not when you were still both so young.
You had currently been at the Country Club for almost six hours when a new table came in, one which you recognised all too soon. It was Rafe joined by Kelce and Topper. You weren't sure whether or not they knew about you but you felt safe to assume Rafe wouldn't mind you introducing yourself. They wouldn't tell Ward, not if he didn't want them to.
"Hi!" You smiled, walking over with a pep in your step, happy to see your boyfriend especially after expecting to be separated all day.
"Uh, hello." Chuckled Kelce, never having encountered such a happy and forward worker at the Club. Usually it was full of moody Pogues.
You saw the red growing in Rafe's cheeks and the way his eyes refused to meet your own and yet you assumed innocently that he was simply nervous.
"I'm Y/N, Rafe's-" You cut yourself off, expecting the previously mentioned to finish your sentence though he never did. Simply glaring at you as though you were scum.
"The fuck..." Topper muttered clearly surprised. He wasn't dumb, he knew how that sentence should have ended and he also noticed that Rafe never did finish it.
"You're fucking a Pogue man? She need the money or something?" Kelce added and you felt your heart drop, eyes immediately turning glassy with tears. You were a sensitive girl, you knew that but a comment so harsh was unnecessary and it stung twice as hard when Rafe remained silent.
"I-I'm sorry...what?" You stuttered, though the three stayed silent. "Rafe?" You turned to him hoping for comfort, reassurance, anger at Kelce literally anything but you received nothing, not even a look.
"I'm sorry, what's your name again?" He asked, voice strained with what you assumed to be guilt but it didn't matter what he felt because those very wards felt like a stab to the heart, made even worse as Kelce and Topper laughed, heads flying back.
They praised him and shook his hand, impressed by his ability to be so memorable to one of his 'hookups' yet not even knowing your name back. It must've been common for them.
"Okay then." You said, pulling your apron off as the tears flowed freely. "Fuck you." You spat at the sun-kissed blonde before you walked hastily out of the Country Club, you didn't care about your job in that moment, you only cared that the one person you had ever let hold y our heart had just squished it between his fingers with no regard for you at all.
Your mind flashed through every memory of you together, trying to rationalize why this could have happened, was it you, did you do something wrong, say something wrong?
No, you concluded, this wasn't you. Rafe Cameron could never love and you were foolish to think you would be the one to change him.
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Lying in your bed, head buried in one of Rafe's sweatshirts had become your new norm, your knew comfort. You hadn't spoken to him since that day which was only around seventy six hours ago but you had never gone one day without him never mind three.
You heard his car park up outside though he never ventured inside, not until now. He had a spare key and so you expected it at some point though not so soon, you thought he didn't like you, didn't love you, that it was over.
His footsteps echoed throughout the empty house, your parents at work. They matched the rhythm of your heavy heart, it felt hollow now without him there to fill it up, this was your life now, how would you cope?
The door to your room opened slowly, almost hesitantly.
"Hi baby." He whispered as he sat down beside your head, hand reaching out to stroke your head and you knew you shouldn't but you leant into his warm touch, desperate for anything.
"I uh- I'm sorry for the other day, I'm such a dick and I just panicked 'cause I didn't know how the guys would react-" He spoke but you cut him off.
"To you dating a filthy, good for nothing, gold digging Pogue right?" You said coldly and he noted that your voice lacked its usual emotion.
"That's not true," He tried but once again, you wouldn't let him lie.
"No. It is Rafe. It is true and you know it." With that you sat up to face him. Your eyes were red and puffy, your face pale and the mascara from that very day was still streaked all over your cheeks. "I know it." Your voice faltered as the tears began to flow again.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, truly I'm sorry. I know it's not okay, I know I'm stupid and that I hurt you and all I want to do is make you feel better again. I- I um, told them about you, everything from start to end. My family too. Realised I can't hide the biggest thing in my life from them. The best thing in my life." He added and you perked up at this, now intregued.
"What'd they say?" You spoke, voice still quiet from the sadness instilled within you.
"Well, Top and Kelce are sorry though I know that doesn't mean much right now. My family took it better than I thought they would, they want to meet you." He said and it was clear he was filled with relief by their responses.
"And what about you? Do you want me to be with you? To meet them? For everyone to know your with me?" You asked insecurely, hands twisting in the blanket that was over you out of anxiety.
"Fuck." He sighed, ashamed of himself, of the way he had made you feel. He pulled your head gently into his chest, choking up at the tears you released.
"I thought that was it. That we were done and that you had fucked me over yet all I could think about was you. That I loved you and had I hurt you in a way that made you do this. I just wanted you there for me, holding me." You whimpered, the hurt in your chest making it's way up your throat making you sound small and weak.
"Never baby, I meant what I said. You're my forever, my everything I wanna marry you with some big stupid fuckin' ring one day, I just- I was scared of my dad of what he might do it's not you it never was. I love you with everything within me, you're my girl 'till the day I drop dead." He said and you almost felt full again, the words that had once fuelled your nightmares being replaced by his sweet ones, stitching your broken spirit back up.
"You promise?" You asked leaning up to place a kiss on his lips.
"Promise." He replied leaning his forehead against your own.
Rafe Cameron never broke promises, especially not when it came to you.
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cranberryjuice-posts · 4 months
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I’ll crawl home to her
Pairings - Abby Anderson x Fem! Teacher! Reader
An - i love this trope of Abby with a teacher like, her coming home after a long day of patrolling and clearing out infected and her just wanting to be in your arms and hear about your day
An pt 2- hozier is slowly taking over my life him and mitski will be my downfall
Palestine aid link
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Abby leaned back in the bed of the truck, her cheeks bright red from exhaustion and the heat. The setting sun blaring down on her and her group after a long day of patrolling.
She hated days like these. Having to leave you before you woke up, just to be out all day until the sun set. Manny chuckled “ahí va ella” Abby looked over at him unamused. “What’s that supposed to mean”
“Nothing Nothing Just pointing out something” he continued. The blond sighed annoyed before looking behind her at the fast moving scenery. Secretly she wondered what the world would of been like if it hadn’t ended— would she of met you, would you both of still been happy, maybe you would of met her dad.
Pushing that thought aside Abby lifted her hand waving at the guys on guard to let their group into the base. Once off the truck she avoided multiple people to not get stuck in conversation.
After turning in her guns Abby made a b-line straight for your apartment. The only thing that really mattered to her right now was to be at her home. In your hallway she hesitated before opening your door. Letting out a tired sigh she walked in.
“And that’s what I’ve been saying, I told Julia that it doesn’t matter if back in her day if—“ you stop mid conversation with Mel to see Abby standing in the doorway.
Mel took note of Abby’s exhausted appearance, patting your shoulder “I’ll see you tomorrow ok” she gave you a soft smile before leaving. Once mel was gone you opened your arms waiting for Abby to walk over.
Abby quickly pulled you into a hug taking a deep breath in just to take in your subtle perfume. “Rough day” You asked leaning back some to take a good look at her worn out face. “Yeah, just.. a lot” she sighed.
You nodded leaning up kissing her gently before stepping down, grabbing her hand and walked her over towards your bed. Abby swore up and down your kisses were the sweetest thing ever— so sweet she would get toothaches.
Setting Her on the bed you silently grabbed your first aid kit to help clean some of the cuts on the girls arms and body. Not once asking her about the people she had killed, or even wondering about the wrong she had done, only wanting to help take care of her. “Shit abs your running a fever” you frowned pulling your hands away from her forehead. “I’m gonna make you some tea ok” kissing her cheek you walked towards portable stove you had recently got preparing a fresh pot of tea.
Abby admired your figure from afar, the long grey military sweat pants that didn’t quite fit you as they were Abby’s, your dark bra and how you had your hair pulled up. She had always liked when you wore your hair naturally down but didn’t mind seeing it pulled back either.
You started to hum a lullaby as you turned the stove on. Slowly moving back and forth Abby almost thought you were nothing more than a dream, like you were a figment of her imagination.
Returning back to the blondes side you helped her out of her clothes— giving her a clean set that you had lying around from earlier times she stayed over.
After a few minutes you placed some of the tea in a mug, handing it to abby you started to stitch up a deep cut in her bicep. It amost made Abby cry how you never worried About what her hands and her body had done, never asking about who or what she had killed, only ever concerned about her no one else
Once she was taken care of you took the now empty cup from her and set it aside. Pulling the covers back you laid down in bed, taking your bra off mainly because you knew Abby liked the skin on skin connection. Waiting for the blonde to strip out of her shirt, you laid down allowing her to fall ontop of you.
You started to undo Abby’s braid as she lightly kissed along your collarbone. Raking your fingers through her hair you started to whisper. “I get it sweet girl.. I get it, it’s ok”
Massaging the girls head you started to tell her about your day. Soft and sweetly showing Abby your love “So I had taught my class about world history today, and we had—“
Abby started to doze off quickly falling asleep. Even if she had died on an assignment No grave could hold her body down she’d still crawl home to you.
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instant-delusions · 4 months
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hii omg may i request xavier smut where he comes home from a hunter mission and catches reader humping his pillow while wearing his hoodie? and it ends with him making reader ride his thigh/dick (or both! i can take him 🤗)
OOOOHHHH MY GOOOD! I LOVE THIS ONE SM 💗💗 I haven't proofread this much cuz it's exam season for me 😭
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ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢɪʀʟ ɢᴏɴᴇ ʙᴀᴅ!
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
xavier x afab! reader
cw: thigh riding, pillow humping, cursing
you were trashing in xavier's comfy bed, checking your phone every ten seconds to see if your boyfriend finally messaged you. though, unfortunately - nothing. pressing your power button to shut your phone, you see your pouting reflection.
obviously, you knew you were being melodramatic, xavier was off on a mission, and it is hardly realistic that he'll put up his hand, saying something like "hold on, wanderer. my gf texted me." it was impossible to deny you were craving his attention astronomically, though - seriously, look at you. you were in one of his white hoodies, breathing in his fragrance and cuddling his pillows with furrowed brows. it was almost pathetic.
groaning, you opened the messenger.
₊ ⊹
y/n: xavier when r u gonna be back??
₊ ⊹
nothing once again. sighing, you closed your eyes and laid back, his scent becoming more intense with every second of his absence. it reminded you of the times he leaned down to whisper things in your ear or when he nuzzled into your nape, like a golden retriever. breathing in deeply, your lungs filled with his green tea laundry detergent. you can't get enough of him, missing the feel of his weight against you, his lips on your skin, his voice, his hands, him, him, him - even if it's just hours he's gone.
it's almost surprising how quickly your neediness melted your brain, your warm body almost uncomfortable on the bed. figments of memories filled your mind, xavier in his hunter uniform, focused look and swinging his sword - confident in his strength. xavier carrying you to your apartment after one too many tequila shots. xavier kissing your shoulder with his hand on your naked waist. xavier squeezed between your legs, pupils blown wide with lust, his pale skin with a peachy blush. whining, you squeezed your legs together, feeling a familiar pang of pleasure in your lower stomach.
god, you feel dizzy with want, the line between appropriateness and shamefulness blurred. turning around, you got on your knees and grabbed the headboard with a hand and one of his starprint pillows to bring in between your legs. quickly, you got rid of your 'shorts' (one of xavier's boxers).
testing the waters, you roll your hips slowly, feeling how the pillow softly stimulated your clit. a soft gasp escaped your lips, thinking about how xavier has his head on this every day, sleeping innocently. another whine fills the room, and you bite down on your lip, smearing your pussy sloppily on the fabric. "fuck", you drag yourself up and down with a harsh arch of your hips, feeling the knot in your tummy tightening - the imagination of xavier beneath you painting your thoughts. a soft 'ping' comes from your phone, but you didn't hear it at all.
₊ ⊹
xav♡: almost there
xav♡: sry for not txting
₊ ⊹
you slowed your hips a little to drag out the pleasure, soaking the light blue pillow in your creamy liquid. humming a low "mmh" at the intense feeling, you barely even made out the clinking of keys, or the steps.
xavier just got into the apartment - noticing your shoes at the entrance, he smiled to himself, excited to see you. the mission was insanely exhausting, and he couldn't wait to feel you ease his mind. lazily, he took off his dusty, slightly blood-stained uniform and threw it somewhere on the ground, stepping through his apartment in boxers. suddenly, his ears quirked up, hearing whining from his bedroom. confused, he raised an eyebrow and quickly made his way over, opening the door without a second thought.
the sight he was greeted with got his jaw slacked - you in his hoodie, his pillow between your thighs and your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. for a few seconds, he just stood there with the doorknob still in his hand, drinking in the way your hips moved and then stilled with realization, you looked back at him with your mouth open.
"xavier?!" you exclaimed, face red and eyes wide with shock. said man got over his initial confusion quickly, his body tensing with the need to please you - it's like what he was born to do. with a few strides, he crawls onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and throwing it onto the floor. "Sorry, you seem to have missed me a lot. I'm here now, I'll make it up to you."
Your eyes fixed on him. You were barely able to comprehend what was happening, everything went by so fast. "Xav...?" he grabbed you by the waist, guiding you onto his naked thigh. Feeling his muscles flex under your soaked, panty-clad pussy had you moaning out, pathetically grabbing his arms in an attempt to ground yourself. "There you go. I'll take care of you." The hunter guided your hips up and down his thigh, feeling every crevice and bump of your cunt through your underwear. "What..." You started, eyes rolling back in pleasure. "What bout you?" you babbled on. "Don't worry." eyeing his growing bulge, seeing his cock needily strain against his boxers, you questioned his response. Though you definitely were not in enough control of your mind to do anything about it, but weakly grind against his thigh. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Xavier looks at you, thinking about how nothing is hotter than your face right now, mouth open, eyes scrunched in pleasure, your blush. Everything because of him, everything for him - with a smile, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand tightening on your waist. "That's it, cum for me, baby." he almost pleaded, leaning in closer to hover his lips over yours.
Instinctively, you caught them, kissing him feverishly while grinding on his thigh harder. With a few more chopped strokes of your hips, you started shaking with your orgasm, feeling like your soul fell down from the cosmos, right back into Xavier's bedroom. He pressed his lips to yours once more, smiling cutely at you. "Better?" he asks, rubbing circles on your back comfortingly. Weakly, you nod, letting your head fall onto his chest, your arms snaking around his middle.
"I missed you. Let's cuddle."
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twstgarden · 4 months
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❀ ❝ 𝟭𝟮 𝗽𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘀 ❞
━ idia shroud x gn! persephone! reader ━ idia wonders how he got lucky with you, and everyday, he wonders if you really are there by his side and not just a figment of his imagination. (f/n means first name)(reader can be yuu or an oc)
requested by: @glass-anna11 request type: scenario requester’s message: “Hello! May I please request for fluff relationship with Idia and a Persephone-like S/O please?" florist’s note: hello, dearie! of course, i love idia, not sure if this is fluffy though. apologies~
this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 6, ignihyde’s arc.
do not steal or translate without my permission.
ko-fi here if you want to support me
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idia was still not convinced that you were his. you were the epitome of perfect to him: kind, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous. not to mention, you also can be wise and mature when you need to. the contrasts between your personality paired with the affection you gave him were enough to make him think he was dreaming.
'the gods must be playing a joke on me,' thought idia as he watched you hum a tune to yourself while making some flower crowns, seated on his carpeted floor surrounded by flowers you picked in heartslabyul's garden.
god forbid you'll ever get in trouble for that, but knowing you, you might've asked for permission before picking their flowers. his console rested on his hands while he was waiting for his game to load, his eyes stuck on your radiant beauty.
however, the sounds of his game's background music playing made him resume his concentration back on the screen, and he once again tried to distract himself. it took a few hours until he tore his gaze away from his game and noticed you were no longer in the same spot as you were before.
he wondered where you were, and as soon as he finished playing, he got out of his seat and looked around, "n/n...?"
did you leave? have you gotten bored of him? have you gotten tired of being the one to take initiative? did you find someone else that's better suited for you - someone that is not a gloomy, underworld keeper like him?
thoughts flooded his mind, and just as quickly as they came, they instantly disappeared the moment you entered the room with two cups of instant ramen in hand, pausing your tracks as you two stared at one another for a while before you smiled.
"i went to make some instant ramen while you played. i thought you might be hungry, so..." you trailed off whilst he stood there with eyes wide open as if he had seen a ghost.
"...why are you so caring?" mumbled idia, making you tilt your head a little. "what do you mean?" you asked before placing the instant ramen cup on his desk while you ate yours.
"i mean, why are you so kind to me?" asked idia once more as you paused eating your ramen and set it down, realising he was still in disbelief that someone was actually taking care of him like this no matter how much it seemed like he was not returning the gesture.
you cupped his cheeks, still smiling sweetly at him, "because i love you, idia."
love.
you love him.
he stayed silent for a moment, his thoughts running wild again as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine feelings. he eventually held your waist - in a rather awkward manner - as he smiled a little at you.
a soft sigh left his lips, growing nervous as he was about to take the next step. with one arm around your waist, he used his free hand to reach out at the drawer behind you, opening it and grabbing something that you did not see.
"hm? what is that?" you asked, curiosity brimming your mind as you eyed his enclosed hand. he took his arm off from your waist as he gulped, placing a hand under your chin to make you look at him as he presented the candies in his hand, "would... you like some?"
thinking it was just him being nervous about offering things to you, you shrugged and smiled at him, grabbing the 12 candies in his hand as he eyed you for a bit while you spoke, "sure, thanks!"
you then looked at the candies. it was red in colour and round, just like the other hard candies that idia casually eats when he is bored. not caring about what flavour it might be, you unwrapped the treat and popped it in your mouth.
"hm... tastes... like pomegranate...?" you mumbled, making idia nervous as he spoke, "are you not fond of it?" you smiled and replied, "no, i did not mean it like that. it tastes great!"
idia sighed in relief as he smiled at you, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you once more as he said, "that's a relief... they're local candies from my hometown." you hummed in response as you continued tasting the pomegranate candies, "from the island of woe? huh, they taste great."
"yes..." trailed idia as he thought to himself, '...so they are unaware of the island of woe's tradition relating to pomegranates... how do i tell them that offering pomegranates to someone is equivalent to a declaration of love without sounding so awkward?!'
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© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
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katszumi · 6 months
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“haji?” his name escaped your lips in a whisper.
the lamps from the street lit up the night sky, the stars from above doing it’s best to keep the night awake. still, darkness surrounded the area, only dark figures could be depicted from their eyes.
you could only guess it was close to midnight from the way the moon shone and the cold slap of wind that gushed your way. however, the quick warmth of your face and the rapid throb inside of your chest disregarded the chills.
iwaizumi analyzed you, his eyes wandering your body as if you were a stranger.
“haji, what are you doing here?”
his lips parted, he wanted to answer you, but he wasn’t even sure why he ran to your house at midnight. he just needed to see you.
“my flight is tomorrow.” he announced like you hadn’t known. all of the third years celebrated one final time before his departure, resulting in endless laughter and tears. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to leave japan behind, because you were still here.
“i know. that’s why you should be getting some sleep, you have a long day tomorrow.” you forced yourself to swallow; to eat away the gnawing feelings that were in the back of your throat aching to come out. you didn’t want to put that burden on him, especially at a bad time like this.
iwaizumi dryly chuckled. of course you were trying to care for him, but he could see the wistful look you gave him. he could tell you were tired due to the bags under your eyes, but your eyes were wide with adoration and hope.
he took a step forward, “you’re too kind, you know that?” his words soft. “can i sleep here tonight? i can’t wake up to an empty room, i just can’t.” he rambled.
without hesitation, you widened the door for him to come inside. you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to stay, but, who were you to tell hajime iwaizumi no?
quickly, iwaizumi welcomed the warmth of your home to his body. his eyes traveled the rooms nearby, he took a mental screenshot, because who knew when was the next time he’d be here or if you even still lived here when he’d come back. he wanted to remember as much of you as he could, but he knew the figments of his memory just wasn’t enough.
he followed you to your bedroom, the two of you sitting next to each other on your queen-sized bed. he always loved the size of your bed, it seemed to fit him more than his own bed at home.
“i’m sorry for knocking at your door so late.” he apologized, his eyes finally settling in to the dimly lit room. he could now make out your features that he was so infatuated with.
“don’t worry about it. i’ll always answer the door for you, haji.” and god, he loved the way his name fell from your lips. like you were destined to say only his name only.
iwaizumi sighed, “america is going to suck without you or oikawa there. it’s like i have to start all over again, just without the company of you two.” he confessed.
your hand found his, gently grabbing it and rubbing circles against his rough skin. you could feel the callouses that were starting to form on his palm, most likely from lifting weights.
he allowed you to fiddle with his hands, he found solace in your touch. his eyes closing for the first time tonight.
“you’ll do great in america. you’ll find new friends and new company to keep you busy. who knows, you might even find someone you’re interested in.”
immediately, his eyes flew open, his head turning to face you. haven’t you realized that it was you he was interested in. it was you that won his heart years ago.
“wha—“ you said from his sudden turn, wondering if you said something wrong, but he interrupted you before you could finish.
“i don’t want to do that. i don’t want to find someone i’m ‘interested’ in. it’d be useless anyway.” he murmured the last part.
now your ears piqued at his comment.
“what do you mean it’d be useless?”
he paused. “i’d be searching for you in every girl i’d meet.” iwaizumi declared. “that’s why i’m here, y/n. it crushes my soul that i’m leaving you behind. i want you by my side, i feel empty whenever you’re not.”
you could’ve sworn that you heard a sniffle emit from the male beside you, but you knew not to comment on it, or he’d probably end the conversation right there.
you cupped his cheek with your hand, a half smile forming on your face. only you were able to see this side from him; the affectionate, tender side that no one else have been able to witnessed.
“it breaks my heart you’re leaving me too. but i know you’re destined for great things. but i know you’ll be able to visit and i’ll always be a call away. it hurts me knowing my two soulmates are moving thousands of miles away. but i can’t be selfish, haji. it’s not about me.” you protected your feelings, because you knew if it turned into more, the morning would be too much of a heartbreak.
iwaizumi shook his head. “but i want you to be,” he pleaded. “i don’t want to get on that plane tomorrow morning with regret because i didn’t have enough courage.”
“courage for what?” it was a stupid question. you knew what he meant, but you were so nervous.
“to tell you i love you.” his eyes searched you for any discomfort, the words almost causing him to have a heart attack. iwaizumi knew he was bad with feelings, especially with how he dawned this proposal onto you a night before he leaves for another country.
but if he didn’t tell you now, he wasn’t sure if he would even board the plane tomorrow morning.
disregarding your feelings before, you leaned into his touch, your nose touching his. you could feel his breath hitch, the warmth of him radiating onto you. your free hand cupped the other side of his cheek as you pressed your lips onto his. years of emotions spilled from the delicate kiss you shared, like a river overflowing its bank.
and you two laid there, peppering slow kisses on each other’s faces, wiping the tears that slipped from both of your eyes.
iwaizumi knew more than before that he was so terribly smitten with you, but he wished that his final hours with you weren’t ticking away with a plane ticket to america with his name on it.
ahhh there’s nothing like a man who’s bad at expressing feelings till the last minute🤌🏽
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strawberrystepmom · 9 months
Text
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pairing: ghost!gojo satoru x f!reader
word count: 2.8k
about: the bump you’ve been hearing in the night isn’t just your imagination, it’s a friendly ghost. a handsome ghost. a ghost who you've befriended that isn't so sure he wants to share you.
contents: nsfw - mdni. you are enjoying oral sex (f!receiving) from a ghost, voyeurism (he's a creep but reader is into it ♡), vaginal fingering, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness leaning on yandere behavior, reader is referred to with feminine terms (pretty girl) and is stated to be wearing a dress.
notes: welcome to thot-o-ween 2023! we are kicking things off with my ghostly boyfriend and im gonna be honest with u guys here, i didn't do extensive research about the ins and outs of ghost sex but he can materialize and harden the parts of him he wants to and let's leave it at that, okay? thank you to @rossithepixie for beta reading this bad boy and i hope you enjoy! happy halloween!
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Another unlucky night, you lament upon arriving back to your apartment. Your keys jingle in the door as you turn the lock with your uncomfortable heels dangling from your hand, pushing the door inward and slumping with each step forward. 
Third dates usually end better than this but it seems your last several third dates have ended with nothing satisfying, polite kisses and wishes for a good evening. It’s hard not to internalize the rejection given this is the fourth person it has happened with and you drop your heels with a thud on the hardwood below, padding across the floor and working off your jewelry, contorting your wrist to unclasp your bracelet.
“Back already?”
A sigh and a shake of your head mark that you already know who the voice belongs to despite being unable to witness its owner. Tossing your bracelet down on the coffee table, you slump against the couch with an unimpressed grunt and jump slightly when you look up to see a pair of blue eyes with white hair falling in them staring back at you.
You don’t know why you expected anything less than Satoru being ready to gloat that you’ve returned home empty handed but you hoped for at least a little bit of time to lick your wounds.
“Well hello to you, too,” you snip and he chuckles. The dim overhead light shines through him reminding you that he isn’t quite human, something it’s all too easy to forget given his charming grin and affable nature, and he hops over the top of the couch in a flash and plops down next to you. 
You still aren’t sure how you ended up with a ghost as a freeloading roommate nor how you’re able to not only see but feel and communicate with him but at least he makes good company after your failed attempts at finding love. He’s always there with a silly joke or a goofy smile to make things hurt a little less.
It’s almost embarrassing how easy it has been to find comfort in this specter, a figment of a man left on Earth for reasons you’ll never know, but hey - a friend’s a friend when you’re lonely.
“Not sure what happened this time,” you explain while standing up. He watches your every move, eyes dancing across your chest and trailing down your waist and hips as your dress settles back across them. Taking one look at you, hunger rises within him but he swallows it as you walk to the kitchen and he hears the telltale noise of a corkscrew at work.
He can be as patient as he needs for as long as he needs given his games have worked up until this point. You pour a glass of wine, another sitting next to your full glass, and you furrow your brow.
“Satoru?”
He looks over the couch, eyes narrowing as he sees your relaxed posture and the way you lean against the counter next to you. It has to be the dress, he thinks, that hugs every delicious curve and has made the already thin tether he keeps on his self control further loosen.
“Yeah?”
You smile when he responds, pulling your glass away from your lips. His eyes fall on the lipstick stain left behind and he has to curl his fist in his lap and keep his face neutral to keep his frustration from showing.
“Ghosts don’t eat or drink, right?”
He shrugs, arm dangling over the side of the couch as he watches you slip the glass back into the cupboard above your head. You’re assuming that he isn’t interested in the wine despite how his eyes follow your every move. It isn’t unusual that you feel him watching you, having to draw boundaries on where he is and is not allowed to be several times given how you’ve seen his face after wiping the mirror off post shower, but this feels different. Weighted. Maybe he’s worried about your ego after your failed conquests.
“Not usually, no, but we can make exceptions.”
Raising your eyebrows, you hum at the way he accentuates the last word. Another sip and warmth fills you, wine relaxing your frazzled nerves. You approach the couch again and slip next to him, pulling your knees to your chest with an amused smile.
“What’s so funny?” He asks, looking up at you through his lashes. Sliding your wine onto the table beside you, you consider for a moment what to say next not knowing where your words could possibly lead. He’s harmless, friendly, and a friend.
A little flirtation just to make sure you’re still capable of it couldn’t possibly hurt anything, could it?
“What kind of exceptions do you make when it comes to eating, Satoru?”
You wonder what he was like when he was alive - was he just like this? All jokes and fun and bluster or was he serious, tied down by responsibilities and pain? Was he this handsome even when the light didn’t shine through him, illuminating him in a way that makes you wonder if he isn’t an angel rather than a thing that goes bump in the night?
“Hmm…well. Children, small animals…” he pretends to be thinking, fingers stroking his chin and you laugh raucously at his display. He shakes his head and puts his other hand on your calf, cold fingers sending shivers crawling through the limb. You make a show of shivering but don’t shove him off, instead moving closer.
“Anything else?”
He hums at your question, hand sliding from your calf to your exposed knee. Your dress rides further and further up your thighs and he can almost see the lacy little panties he watched you slip over your legs before leaving. He spent all evening thinking of the way the trimmed hair covering your mound poked through the holes in the lace, pacing the apartment hoping, hoping, hoping that this time would be the time where you took the rejection personally enough to seek him out for comfort.
It seems his plan is working flawlessly and he’s smug, raising his chin and looking down his nose at you just enough that it makes you shutter. You aren’t sure if it’s the wine or maybe that you’re reading too much into the situation, but you watch raptly as his mouth moves.
“Sometimes I eat really pretty girls if the appetite strikes.”
Raising your brows, you lean forward and look up at him. He knows all too well what that look means, unfortunately having to witness you flash it at the few people you’ve managed to bring home over the last ten months of living here, but he can forget about them now that it is pointed at him.
“Oh is that so?”
He nods, hand crawling further up your leg. You wish you could describe the sensation, a cold static, the trace of his touch across your skin, but words fail you as his eyes blaze. The tension is thick and it’s almost puzzling how you ended up here, scooting closer and closer with each second that passes. His hand dances at the hem of your dress, fingers slipping beneath and grazing the soft skin beneath it and he moans.
“How long have you wanted to do that for, I wonder?”
You giggle, ass scooting across the couch to drape your legs over his thighs and hips. The two of you sit across from one another, legs barely spread, and you take a step to spread yours further.
“I think the better question is how long have you wanted me to do it for?”
Raising your brows as his touch creeps further upward, you wonder if you haven’t met your match in the form of the eerily tall specter that lingers over the back of your couch. He makes himself scarce unless he wants to be seen, pounding footsteps and shifting on the shelves hanging on your wall the only trace of him when others are around. 
You stop yourself on that thought and he sees awareness dance across your face, recalling the moments where your last several dates were in the apartment and you had to insist the rustling was the pet cat you do not have fiddling with things in your room or down the hallway.
“Have you been…” the accusation slips past your lips and you can’t stop it, head tipping as he reaches out and cups your face with his free hand, one hand still sliding across the bottom of your panties. His cool fingers are a rush across your heated skin, hotter now than it was a few moments prior, and he nods.
“Yeah, I have been.” He expects you to react more strongly than you are but your mouth remains agape and wordless. “You keep bringing these idiots home and it’s my job to make sure they know you already have everything you need right here.”
He shifts position onto his stomach, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch as his lips, cool and soft, follow the same pattern his fingers were previously taking. He laces your calf with kisses, licking the curve of your knee and nibbling as he reaches the soft of your inner thigh and you feel your hips buck instinctively. 
You should kick him off of you, disgusted by his antics, but you feel your slick pussy lips rub against one another as you shift where you sit. Those electric eyes are locked on you and he dips his fingers beneath the lace that spurred his frenzy, groaning as he comes into contact with your searing hot warmth and the wetness seeping from your cunt.
“Seems like you aren’t disappointed to hear that,” he taunts, nibbling your soft skin again while working one long digit across your slit. You gasp when the back of his finger brushes against your swollen clit and he chuckles. “You wanna hear what else I’ve been doing since we’re bein’ honest?”
Satoru’s finger traces the same pattern through your slit, finger gliding easily along the sensitive skin and you nod, lip between your teeth. You want to witness exactly what he’s doing to you because the feeling is indescribable - more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 
“I’ve been watching you,” he withdraws his finger from your panties and you whimper, brow furrowing. Eyes fixed on him, you watch as he pulls the finger into his mouth and hums at the taste. The wet digit is removed from his mouth with a pop and he slides it back into your panties, dipping into your cunt only to make your back arch. 
“Watching you do that,” he nods at your last movement. “With that noisy vibrator. With the showerhead.” He continues, mouth moving closer to your panty covered pussy with each word. “With people who don’t deserve it.”
Another chill runs through you at the insinuation that he has been watching you…everywhere. In the shower, in your bedroom, in the living room with a blanket pulled over your lap for some sense of decorum. Your walls clench around his finger and he finally lowers his face to your pussy, licking a broad stripe over the front of your underwear. 
Tipping your head back, you moan his name and it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard in life or after it. He licks another strip, tip of his tongue tracing your slit through the lace, and you reach behind you to grasp onto a throw pillow.
“I’ve been waiting for when you’d pick up on it but it seems my pretty girl wanted to believe I’m nothing but a friendly houseguest,” he taunts from between your legs but you are at his mercy enough that you don’t mind the challenge. 
You like the way his eyes shine as they look down at your core, as if he’s found a prize that he has searched many lifetimes for. He has and he holds himself back from making further moves, taking the time to keep you wound up.
“You’re mine now no matter who you bring in here, you know that right?”
You nod, and he tuts from below. You aren’t getting off that easily.
“Say it,” he prompts. “Say you’re mine.”
Untucking your lip from between your teeth, you reach out and try to grab his face but find it’s futile, phasing through him as it drops back down to the couch below. You try again, raising your hand to be met with the same results, and he waits.
“Say it and I’ll let you touch me too.”
You aren’t certain of how that works but he would know more about the delicate relations between a ghost and a human so you acquiesce, nodding while you look at him.
“I’m yours,” you whisper and he wastes no time going back to work, dipping his head back down to your covered cunt and pulling your panties away. He inhales, eyes fluttering shut at the scent of your arousal, and you reach to touch him to find you can merely graze him, fingers dancing along his sharp jawline. It’s enough for now, distracted by how his tongue now dances between your folds.
“Fuck that’s so good,” you whimper and he wraps his lips around your aching clit, your back arching to put all of you in his face. He loves it, surrounded by your thighs and your scent and your beauty, and he hums his pleasure around the bud.
Releasing your clit, he begins to once again lap at you like a man starved, tongue dragging from your bud to your entrance and down lower, the sensation still one you are struggling to name. You’ve been on the receiving end of good oral sex more than once but this physically feels like something you’ve never experienced, cold and hot and spiritual. It’s difficult to describe so you don’t bother, keeping moans spilling from your mouth instead.
Continuing to lave his tongue across the mess he’s making of your pussy, he swallows thickly and looks up at your pleasured face. The sight makes him smile, more than happy he has finally managed to get his way, and he adds another finger to the one he has kept massaging your insides. His tongue retracts but you don’t mind, long fingers filling you more than you anticipated and drawing gasps from you.
“Just remember,” his blue eyes fall to where his fingers curl against your pelvis, squelching with your wetness and his saliva. “I can follow you wherever you go.”
You gasp when his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside of you that makes your head swim, walls once again gripping him so tightly he can hardly move so he settles in place.
“You’ll never get away from me now.”
Nodding, you smirk and it turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit, hips canting to match the rhythm his fingers were working at before they stopped.
“You assume I want to,” you shoot back breathlessly through swollen lips. You’ve been gnawing that lower lip a little too hard and it’s plump, slick with spit and he admires the shine while you speak. “Maybe you'll never get away from me.”
Raising his brows, Satoru wonders if this wasn’t your endgame all along. Recalling all the times you spread your legs and stroked your pussy on the couch, knowing he could see it; memorizing all of the people who have darkened your doorstep, only to get you all warmed up and then be sent away - you making the choice instead to moan into the cool dark of your room while making yourself cum again and again.
“Looks like we’re on the same page then,” he confirms and you smile. His mouth goes back to work, tongue slurping and drinking every bit of you that he can, and you feel yourself edging closer and closer to cumming for him, for real, this time. 
His fingers work inside of you and he closes his mouth over your sensitive clit, your mouth opening in a wordless shout with your release. You weren’t expecting it to come just yet but you won’t complain, head drooping backwards and eyes shut tightly. The on top of the world feeling is coaxed out of you for as long as it can be, his mouth mercifully releasing you when you start breathing heavily. 
His face rests against your thigh, glistening chin backlit and shining, and you reach out to touch him again and gasp when your touch lands, fingers wrapping around his jaw. Again, you won’t question it knowing that the best orgasm of your life just came at the hands of this man…or spirit…Whatever he is, you aren’t terribly concerned about it.
“I feel like I need to take you out to dinner now,” you tease breathlessly and he laughs, cheek still pressed to your thigh. Placing a kiss, he winks in your direction and you feel that familiar heat rise in you once again.
“We have all the time in the world for that, now don’t we?”
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eat-limes-bitches · 4 months
Text
Love After War
PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS! Bucky Barnes
SUMMARY: The mind has a way of playing tricks on you, images you thought to be real are just a figment of your past. But how to get back to the present?
WARNINGS: Angst, nightmares, PTSD, panic attack, cannon-level violence, torture, smidgen of fluff at the end
Word Count: 1239
A/N: soooooo this was supposed to be the start of my Febuwhump challenge but with the way my life is going right now I won't be able to finish all the prompts by the end of the month, BUT I will post the ones I have done, and I will keep working on some prompts as well but don't expect them to be in order at all.
Prompt: Helpless
Enjoy! <3
Divider by Rookthorne
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The first thing Bucky realized as he came to was how incredibly cold he was. A shiver wracked his body, causing him to try and pull the flimsy material covering him closer to his skin as water poured down on him. Wait- water? He looked to find the source and realized he was in a shower. The cold water turned red as it ran across his body from all the blood there. Was it his or someone else's? Bucky couldn’t tell. 
“SOLDAT.” A voice boomed from behind, causing him to flinch aggressively. He knew that voice, it was one of his handlers, and by the sound of the rapidly approaching footsteps, he wasn’t happy.
“Poydem s nami, soldat. Dok khochet tebya videt'” The voice growled and Bucky froze. 
His frazzled mind still trying to work out where he was and what was going on. His hesitance must have been seen as resistance because the next thing he knew, a rifle butt was flying towards him. 
Confused, Bucky blocked it with his arm, the clash of metal reverberated around the room causing more handlers to pour in, each one with a gun all pointing in the same direction. His pulse was starting to quicken, and every muscle in his body tensed. 
He was so focused on what was going on in front of him that he didn’t notice the guard coming up behind him with a stun baton. The guard struck, causing Bucky to fall to his knees as he hissed in pain, the electric shock causing his arm to fall limp at his side he clutched the useless appendage in his right hand as he looked on in terror as they all started moving in on him. Two of the guards grabbed him and began to drag him out of the room. He knew where they were taking him and as those rusted double doors came into view he began thrashing as wildly as he could to get away but it was no use.
“Bucky?”
They flung open the doors, his senses on hyperdrive as the blinding lights of the room burned his eyes. Noise. There was so much noise, nurses scrambling around, guards shouting, and doctors preparing for whatever horrible things they had planned for him that day. 
“Bucky!”
He tried to fight against them as they strapped him into the chair, but it was no use, he felt utterly helpless as they began tying him down. His metal arm, although useless, was cuffed in 4 different steel brackets to keep him from moving, the rest of his body bolted into place as the panels of the machine began to lower over his face and just as they were about to connect to his skin-
“JAMES!” 
He sucked in a large breath bolting upright in bed and scrambling far away from where he was until he managed to situate himself in the corner of the room. His chest, slick with sweat heaved up and down as he tried to get oxygen to fill his lungs, but his heart was beating too fast for him to do anything but hyperventilate. There was a quiet sound from the other side of the room that made him realize he wasn’t alone, and he let out a whimper as their footsteps got closer, curling in on himself to appear as small as possible. 
“Bucky?” This voice was soft and full of concern, a complete contrast to the voice he heard just moments ago. This intrigued him slightly, but not enough to make him uncurl himself to see who was speaking to him. There was a sigh from the other person and the floorboards squeaked as they moved their entire weight to the floor, sitting on the ground near him.
“Bucky? It’s me, baby.” The voice cooed gently, and with the next breath he took, the familiar smell of cedar and lavender invaded his senses. He peaked his head out from behind his knees and saw Y/n sitting on the floor looking at him with concern coloring her features and sorrow clouding her eyes. She noticed the small movement and smiled gently as her eyes caught his.
“There he is. Hello, my love.” She whispered, a gentle smile decorating her face. Bucky blinked owlishly at her, still not realizing who he was looking at, but still Y/n smiled. 
Progress she thought before she started speaking again, “It’s just me, love. You are safe. We are in our bedroom, in our apartment, no one is going to hurt you.” 
This made him cock his head to the side before looking around the room. There was no one else besides the two of them. Instead of the gurneys, there was a dresser. Instead of blood-stained floors, there was a soft, grey plush carpet. Instead of that chair, there was a bed, and her. Bucky took a deep breath, finally able to fill his lungs and when he did, his body began to shake. He would shake violently for a moment before his muscles would give out and relax before contracting all over again. Y/n watched him carefully and scooted a little closer. 
“Can I sit next to you?” It was a simple question, and it might seem trivial to ask someone you were just sleeping next to if you could be in their space but it was important for Bucky to feel in control of his situation, if he was in control, he was no longer there.  Bucky looked at her and gave a small nod and Y/n moved to sit next to him, her back plastered against the wall. Although she wasn’t touching him, Bucky could feel the warmth radiation from her body, another piece of proof that he wasn’t in the basement of a bunker in the Siberian mountains. The pair sat in silence for a moment, Y/n watching Bucky, and Bucky staring straight ahead at the wall. Y/n shifted, causing Bucky's eyes to leave the spot on the wall and look at her. 
“Can I touch you?” She asked softly. Buckys hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. Y/n scootched closer to Bucky so that their bodies were pressed against each other and she reached over with a hand and ran her fingers through his shortened chestnut locks. That simple action seemed to bring new life back to Bucky and he began to uncurl, leaning into her touch. Y/n began humming a soft melody as she continued to massage Bucky’s scalp. His tremors became less and less until they were all but gone. 
After some more time passed, Bucky wasn’t sure how much, Y/n stopped and gently stood up, offering her hand to him. 
“‘C'mon love, let’s get back in bed. Your back isn’t going to thank you if I let you sleep in the corner.” 
Bucky placed his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him back to bed. Y/n folded back the covers in a more orderly fashion before sliding under the soft grey sheets, motioning for Bucky to do the same. He did so, snuggling back into Y/n’s side listening to her steady heartbeat, reassuring him that he was safe.  She began humming that soft melody again. Feeling warm and safe, his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a dreamless sleep. The last thing he remembered was the whisper of an “I love you,” in his ear.
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georgiapeach30513 · 3 months
Note
Steve Rogers x me 🙋‍♀️ number 32 or 50 please
Oh!! I love this one so much, but...just don't hate me with this.
There Goes My Life
Summary: just one last time
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, a smidge of dirty talk, creampie, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 1.2K
Series Masterlist
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He sighs as his blue eyes peer at your sleeping form. You never listened. It was too easy for him to get in through your window, and just gaze at you while you sleep. He warned you that there was a target on your back. Especially the moment you left SHIELD. It just didn’t seem right anymore. Not without Steve, and not knowing what you now know.
You look peaceful, which is more than what he can say for himself. Your windows seem smaller now, or maybe it was just because he felt he could never get too close to you. The picture of the two of you still sits beside your bed, and he feels an ache in his chest as you cling to his pillow. By now his scent would have worn off considering how you had your face buried into it.
“Cap, you have a short window. I’ll buy you some more time. Enjoy your girl.”
“Thanks, Sam,” he whispers, leaning over to remove his boots. If he didn’t have this need to hold you and enjoy you while he could, he would tell you how stupid it was to leave your window unlocked. But he also knew why.
You are also painfully aware that Steve had someone watch your place. Everything changed in such a short time. You didn’t think he would be coming back, much less as often as he did.
Removing his suit, he lets the mess of what was Captain America drift into your floor. Fully naked, and for a reason, he lifts the blanket on his side, and slides in. His eyes rake over your beautiful sleeping face. There wasn’t enough time for him to just watch you, but he did it all the same. He missed you so much it hurt. So much that he couldn’t even focus on the task at hand because he was waiting on you to tell him what to do. But this isn’t SHIELD, and you no longer were in his ear.
Your full lashes flutter with his warm breath. Your body sidles up to his even more. He’s so proud of you, even in your sleep you knew it was him. He reaches to pull the pillow from your grasp, wanting you to use him instead when your sleepy eyes blink away the clouds from your vision.
“Steve?”
“Shh,” he whispers, his nose pressing up against yours. Every moment with him is bittersweet because you know he’ll be off somewhere else before you wake up again. Leaving you feeling like everything was only a figment of your imagination.
Your lashes flutter close as you absorb his warmth. His breath. And when his lips press against your trembling ones. “Sugar,” he pleads, but you don’t want to waste time. Each time he visited you felt like it would be the last time, and that killed you inside. “Stop.”
“Steve, just take me. Make me forget that you won’t be here in the morning.”
“You make me feel like the biggest asshole.”
“Language, Captain,” he chuckles on your lips. Hoisting his body to hover over yours. His legs positioned in between your own, and he slides his apart as he sinks lower over you. His silky steel cock, lays over your bare mound, and you shutter at the feeling.
“I really hate that you were privy to that moment.”
“Why’s that?” You tease as he grips his length in one hand and runs it through your slick.
“Because every time I growl out filth in your ears, I want them to be your words only. Because even though you hold your head up high, and you look so regal walking into SHIELD, you’re my dirty little slut.”
“Your dirty little slut wishes that you would just fuck her…ahh,” you gulp as his thick veiny member plunges into your depths. Fully sheathing himself into your wet heat, and his weight settles on yours. It is the best kind of smothering. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you so much,” he grunts as his hips piston in and out of your walls. Pushing and pulling into every bit of you. Molding the two of you together again, and you hope that this was the normal. That you didn’t have to wait months until you got to feel him again. That this was a bad dream, and Steve wasn’t an enemy of the country.
You focus on the way his body cages around yours and how the two of you had so many beautiful plans. Feel only the way his thicker body made you feel so small. The tickle of his beard as he nips along your neck. You swear every part of him got thicker. And it made you more needy for him.
You took every bit of his hard and deep thrusts because your body was made for him. Nobody pulled out the sounds from your lips. There was nobody else you trusted the way you trusted him. In a different world you and Steve would have already been married, and have a baby on the way. He would have given up this fight with the Avengers just to live a normal life.
But those dreams weren’t reality. Now it was a dream that the man you love was becoming so feral with the limited time he had with you. His hands slam on the headboard above you, and his hips stab into you with so much force you start to see stars. This is how he always ended things. He wanted to make sure you almost passed out with pleasure and pressure.
His thrusts make the picture frames rattle on the walls. Your hands cling to his wide hips as you feel yourself start to go blank. Damn this beautiful man. He couldn’t even bear to say goodbye. The solution was to fuck you stupid. Fuck him.
You try and hold on. See the image of Steve gritting his teeth as he forces his orgasm away. Waiting on you to succumb to your exhaustion. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your walls clench down tight around his cock, and he gets a few more ruts into you before ribbons of hot thick cum fill your belly up.
He stutters his movement as he watches your head lull to the side, and he hates himself for doing this. Hates having to be so careful. There is nothing he wants more than to bask in your silky walls all day. He pulls himself out of you, and smiles when you sleepily whimper at the loss of him.
Giving himself just a moment to stare at your gaping cunt leaking of him. “Captain, it’s time. We gotta be careful.”
He leaves you laying there, but covers you back up. Leaving behind the scent of him on your sheets, and the regret that things aren’t different. This had to be the last time. He was putting you into too much danger. Slowly he’d call the eye from watching you. He’d let you go because that’s how much he loved you.
“I’m always careful,” he says, slipping back into his suit.
But this time — he wasn’t…..
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @harrysthiccthighss @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Can Anybody See Me? Part 3
Holy hell, guys. Seriously, I love you all. And just seeing the sheer amount of LOVE this story is getting makes me so happy.
Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.
Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)
Part 1 Part 2
*
Eddie was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was wrong and that was uncomfortable. On the other it meant that whatever was going on with Steve he didn’t care about his reputation anymore and that was always a good thing.
He had walked out of the school doors to the parking lot after school to see a Steve Harrington leaning against his van, just like yesterday.
“Harrington,” Eddie said, “this is a surprise.”
Steve ducked his head. “If you don’t want me to be here, I can leave.”
Eddie held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa there. I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised you took me up on the offer is all. Last time I checked your lot doesn’t throw in with mine.”
Steve’s shoulders sagged. “It does now. Now that I don’t have anyone else.”
Eddie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head. “I thought you and Nancy Wheeler were hot and heavy.”
The very idea of the two of them made him gag. Hetros. Freaking insane, man.
“We broke up on Halloween,” Steve murmured.
Eddie blinked. He had been at that party. To sell, of course, he hadn’t been invited. Had even seen Wheeler storm off, but he really hadn’t thought much about it.
“What bridges haven’t you burned?” he asked in all seriousness.
“My kids,” Steve said. “I’d do anything for them.”
“Okay, that’s going to have to take some explanation,” Eddie said, shoving his hands in his back pockets.
Steve looked around the van and gulped. “Can we take this somewhere else?”
Eddie looked over and saw Nancy and some other guy being all cutesy. “Yeah. Come on, hop in. I’ll bring back later to pick up your car when the lot’s no longer crawling with people who want to do you in.”
Steve sighed in relief, his body fulling relaxing for the first time since Eddie started this journey. He moved around to the other side of the van and got in once Eddie unlocked the door.
“Where to, my liege?” Eddie asked with a grin.
“Is the quarry okay?” Steve asked shyly.
Eddie’s grin softened to a smile. “Sure thing, pretty boy.” He started the van and pulled out on to the open road, leaving behind the messy turmoil that was high school.
They made it out to quarry and Eddie climbed up on the top of his van. Steve looked up at him in amazement.
“Uh, how am I supposed to get up there?” Steve asked.
Eddie leaned over the side and held out his hand. “Grab hold.”
Steve looked at it a moment and then back up at Eddie. He looked into those doe brown eyes and sighed. He planted one foot against the side of the van and then took Eddie’s hand.
And was promptly vaulted to the top of the van.
“Holy shit!” Steve said once he was settled next to Eddie. “You’re strong.”
Eddie laughed. “It comes from all the lugging equipment around for my band. And helping out with stage crew.”
“Wow, you have a band?” Steve asked.
Eddie nodded. “Corroded Coffin. It’s a metal band, we play at the Hideout every week.”
Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know much about metal. I tend to go for alt rock bands like Oingo Boingo, Depeche Mode, REM, Tears for Fears...I bet that was a load of gibberish for you.”
Eddie shook his head. “I’m familiar with a couple of them,” he admitted. “Not my thing. But I would have pegged you for a pop vibe.”
Steve scoffed. “I have some taste, man.”
Eddie laughed. “I’d beg to differ, but sure. You do you, dude.”
Steve bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Go on, then. Impress me with your metal bands, since mine are such shit.”
“My favorite is Metalica,” Eddie said, bumping Steve back. “But I like Mercyful Fate, Dio, Poison.”
Steve wrinkled his nose. “And I thought my bands had weird names.”
“What the hell is a Depeche Mode anyway?” Eddie fired back.
“What is a Metalica?” Steve replied.
Eddie opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “All right, you got me there.”
“I was talking to Mrs Hall today about my schedule,” Steve said, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. “I have to drop basketball and baseball. It’s too late to drop swimming, but I talked to Coach Burton and he said I should be cleared for competition I just have to see the swimming board’s doctor for final confirmation.”
“So suddenly you have two classes opened up?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, my last two,” Steve mumbled into his knees. He lifted his head with a sigh. “She won’t let me just drop them and not pick up new classes even though the semester half way through.”
“So you thought about what to fill those slots with?”
“She gave me a list of options,” Steve grumbled and dug the paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Eddie.
Eddie looked over the options. “Debate, would double as extra English credit...” he mumbled reading what Mrs Hall had wrote. “Can’t see you doing that one, if I’m honest.”
Steve shook his head. “Me either. I know it’s not just arguing. But I know they can get heated. I don’t need complete strangers yelling at me when I get that enough at home.”
Eddie nodded. “Choir. Can you sing?”
Steve blushed. “Yeah, actually. But I’ve never wanted to join the choir.”
Eddie frowned. “Why not?”
Steve cleared his throat and looked away. “My vocal coach said that I don’t blend well and am very loud.”
Eddie bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Soloist only, then?”
Steve nodded.
“Sounds like you’d be great at metal singing,” he continued. “Very loud and very in your face.”
Steve laughed. “Whatever you say, man. But no, choir is out.”
Eddie looked back at the list. “Machine work?”
Steve shook his head. “My dad would kill me.”
“Too blue collar for your dad?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I gotcha.”
“Stage crew,” Eddie continued.
Steve sighed. “I thought about that one, but like with the machine work it’s too ‘blue collar’ for my dad. Plus with my concussion, I’m pretty sure either option would be out.”
Eddie cocked his head and clicked his tongue. “Fair enough.” He looked over the list. “Pottery?”
Steve laughed. “Sure, why not? That’s one.”
Eddie nodded. He mentally crossed out all the classes that were seventh period, focusing only on the class that were eighth.
“Hmm...” he murmured pursing his lips. “Looks like what you’ve got left is geology and drama.”
Steve reared his head back. “What the hell is geology?”
Eddie shook his head. “I have no idea, but it’s obviously a science-y thing.”
Steve let out a bitter laugh. “I guess it’s pottery and drama.” He buried his face in his knees again. “I know my reputation is already in tatters but fuck those kids in those classes are going to tear me to pieces.”
Eddie blinked. The mystery that was Steve Harrington was like following a rabbit down a hole, and coming up to Wonderland. “You’re more concerned that they’re going to make fun of you then you are of your old friends making fun of you?”
Steve lifted his head. “Well sure. I know Tommy and them are going to make fun of me even if I stayed on both teams. That’s a given. They’ve got King Billy to follow now and they’re gonna get vicious with it. But no, the real problem comes from the art geeks coming for me because I have invaded their space.”
Eddie almost brought up the drawing class Steve was already in, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He shrugged. “So tell them truth. Tell them you had course correct because of a concussion. Be honest and defer to them in all things.”
“I’m also going to be the only senior in those classes, man,” Steve groused.
Eddie cocked his head. “Yeah, probably. But what else have you got?”
Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Nothing.”
They lapsed into silence. Just sitting there for awhile looking out over the quarry.
After some time, Eddie bumped Steve’s shoulder again. “So you want to tell me about ‘your kids’?”
Steve frowned.
“Burned bridges, people who haven’t given up on Steve Harrington?” Eddie prompted.
Steve lit up. “Oh yeah. Sorry, man, it’s just the...” he pointed to his face. Eddie nodded. “I still don’t know how I got roped into dealing with these assholes, but yeah. There are six of them now. Started with Dustin Henderson. Smart kid, smarter than most adults I know. Then it expanded to his friends, which includes the little brothers of my ex and her new boyfriend, Jonathan Byers, and of course Lucas Sinclair. And then I picked up El or Jane. I’m not sure which one she prefers, most people call her El though. And then there’s Max.”
“Five boys and a girl?” Eddie asked, his face twisting awkwardly. “Congrats?”
Steve laughed. “Max is short for Maxine. But don’t you dare call her that.”
Eddie blinked. “Max Mayfield? As in Billy Hargrove’s step-sister?”
Steve tilted his head back. “Yeah...but I don’t think I could separate her from the group now if I tried. And besides, she’d kick my ass.”
“You are an enigma wrapped in a mystery, man,” Eddie said.
Steve looked over at him. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21
Tag List: @evix-syne666 @renaissan-vvitch @deadlydodos @scarletzgo @messrs-weasley @kodaik97 @thedragonsaunt @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @nelotegreitic @sundead @artiststarme @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @thing-a-ling @anaibis @garden-of-gay @matchingbatbites @spectrum-spectre @winterbuckwild @steve-the-hairrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @babyblender @cursedfoxteeth @novelnovella @throwbackthrowaway @strangersteddierthings @shrimply-a-menace @emly03
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tteokdoroki · 2 years
Text
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— my darling, be selfish. + diluc ragnivindr.
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— author’s note: this is for my baby sowa @usoratonkachi the only one i love bye
— warning(s): smut, mdni 18+, heavy!somno, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), creampies, love making hehe, praise, fem!reader.
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“d-diluc…”
“yes, darling?”
diluc is a giving lover, he’ll never take unless you insist. your needs are always above his own because he cares for you deeply, more than he has for anyone else in his life… but this morning, he just couldn’t help himself. in the summer heat, when your night robes ride up and reveal plains of plush and blemished skin to the hungry eyes of the dark night— how is he expected to resist? to be a gentleman when you look like a morning angel laying against his sheets. he barely needs to pry you apart, practiced finger tips cascading down your thighs easily, and you open up for him like a flower blossoming towards the heat of the sunlight in spring.
you’re so pretty, my archons. between your thighs lies a treasure diluc hopes is his to keep— the scent of you only serving to ignite the flames of desire burning in his chest. he ties back his hair before he kisses up your thighs, across your stomach and smiles into your pussy when you whine for him in your sleep. even like this, despite how badly he needs you, diluc prods softly at your clit with the tip of his tongue— knowing just what gets you wet enough to take him.
oh, you’re his sweet girl— clutching the sheets beside you while your sweet dreams turn into something more sultry. diluc watches the contours of your face as your lips twist and pout and sighs like a song bird’s tune slip from between them as his tongue slips into you, fucking you as if it were his hard aching cock nestled against the sheets right now. you taste like the finest wine ever crafted, you feel like the softest thing he’s ever touched. you can’t be real, akin to a figment of diluc’s imagination while he catches your juices on the pallet of his tongue before they can roll down between your cheeks in sweet droplets.
“m…mmn, d-diluc,” you somehow manage in your sleep, still not awake but not immune to your lover’s selfish mouth on you— sucking away at what your puffy folds have to offer, taking from you when he usually gives. the red head groans deep into your cunt, wet and sticky and all his for the taking— and his hips involuntarily buck into the bed beneath you both when you moan so loud it might rattle the neighbours.
with fleeting regret, the dark knight pulls away from your dripping pussy to ease his equally sloppy cock— heavily coated with a thick white layer of his slick precum and seed— between your shiny, spit covered thighs and against your fluttering hole. “i know darling, archons, i know. i’m here,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he shakily pushes into you, desperately chasing the feeling of being able to bottom out within your silken walls. “i’ve got you, my sweetest girl.” and when he does, it’s like the gates of heaven have opened up, and diluc pulls back from the warmth of your cunt to thrust into you, all the way up to the hilt.
were you always this tight? so pliant and ready to be fucked? diluc doesn’t know, he doesn’t care— because you cling to him as if it’s instinct, fingers twitching up to the warmth of his body fuelled by his pyro vision and the slick walls of your cunt clamp down on the forked veins of his cock as they drag against your sensitive spots that only he can reach. only when his milky tip brushes hard against your g-spot while diluc builds a pace steady enough to rock the bed, do your eyes start to flutter, lashes brushing against his cheek’s as he presses his face close to yours— breath fanning over your skin warmly.
“d-diluc…”
“yes, darling?”
your sleepy eyes meet fiery red ones, and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as diluc pushes at your thighs until your ankles lock at the small of his back and the angle his dick hits inside you changes just right. “more…m-more,” you plead softly, rolling your own hips upwards— fingers flying to red locks of hair to tug diluc up from biting and kissing and marking your bouncing chest so you can have your lips on his. “g-give me more.” you moan into his open mouth, his strawberry tongue sliding over yours and spreading the taste of yourself across it. it’s a messy exchange of early morning i love yous, unspoken words and feelings of lust as diluc pounds away at your sloppy pussy with even more vigour than before.
squelching sounds of your sexes fill the early morning air, the dark knight practically carving your shape into the mattress with how deep he’s fucking you— hips rolling slowly into yours while his cock churns up your insides and turns a milky shade of white as your juices cream against him. balls slap against the curve of your ass, adding to the tune of your love making while diluc selfishly gasps and grunts your name— taking it as his. taking you as his. it’s far from appropriate to make you such a mess so early on in the day, your cheeks wet with crystal tears, face a little hot and your skin shining with spit and sweat as your bodies move together…but if it was so inappropriate you should never have been so beautiful and tempting in the first place.
diluc’s abs contract against the softness of your tummy, his hips circling, cock twitching against your walls furiously as a wet and crude mix of your juices slides between your folds. “can you take more, my love?” he asks you earnestly, the rough pads of his fingers making their way between your bodies to draw shapes on your swollen, abused little clit. “can you cum for me darling?” he asks you again, voice sweet but dominated by lust and adoration as you shake beneath the dark knight hero, taking what he gives you. you squeeze down on him, nearly causing the man to choke but making his hips stutter. “ah, i know you can darling. be good, let me know when you’re close. you’ve been good all morning, i want…fuck i want to make you cum.”
you grip his wrist, moans rising in octave and in volume— eyes threatening to roll back in your skull. “d-diluc… i-im close. oh please…oh please. please.” this time you beg, and diluc loses his ability to be selfish— smiling down at you with so much as he pinches your clit and gives you exactly what your body’s been craving, exactly what you need. he draws his cock all the way out, let’s you squirm for just a moment more before plunging all the way into your soiled, slippery walls and watches as the world falls apart behind your glassy doe eyes.
“cum for me, darling.”
and you do just that, the world of colours flashing across your mind as you just let it go. your release splashes out against diluc’s tummy in waves that he doesn’t stop fucking you through, a fond but airy chuckle escaping his lips while you cream on his cock like the good, sweet thing you are. “that’s it, you’ve been so good…so good.” he mumbles, face tucked into your neck as he rides out your high with shallow thrusts and a stuttering pace before reaching his own climax— thick and heavy ropes of his white seed painting your insides, so much so that it seeps out and sticks to your puffy folds.
diluc can sometimes be a selfish lover, but only when it comes down to having you and being able to make you see stars and feel pleasure whenever he damn well pleases. especially when it ends in mornings like this, where he makes you a mess and soils the sheets.
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drafthorsemath · 1 month
Text
Brotherly Love
Synopsis: Crosshair can't sleep and Tech appears to him as a force ghost. Lots of comfort.
A/N: I need some kind of conclusion for my brain. Whether you accept the finale and that Tech is dead, I think I need to get this out of my system to grieve.
Word Count: 846
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It was nearly pitchblack in the bedroom, save for a sliver of a moonbeam shining through the window. Pabu was quiet this time of night and usually Crosshair found comfort in that. Tonight though, he was struck by sadness. He thought of Tech and the nights they'd spend together as cadets. Crosshair's eyes would hurt from the bright lights on Kamino after long days of training. Tech would turn off the lights, get into bed with him, and read to him. Crosshair smiled as he thought about all the different things Tech read. History, science, even the occasional holonovel. He would always find comfort laying next to his brother and hearing his voice. He wished he could hear him again now.
Crosshair sat up in bed and sighed as he looked out the window. He could swear he felt Tech's hand on his shoulder; steady and comforting as it always was. He sniffled and leaned into the sensation, only to realize that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.
"Tech?!" Crosshair jumped up and turned to see a kind of blue light around what he could have swore was his brother. "What the kriff?!"
"Yes," Tech replied, examining his glowing limbs with curiosity. "I could ask the same thing."
Crosshair reached out to try to touch him. He felt a presence and yet could see through him.
"Is it really you?" Crosshair asked.
"Of course it's really me," Tech replied with an eye roll.
"How are you doing this?" Crosshair asked.
"I am unsure," came the honest answer. "However, matter is never created nor destroyed. It simply changes form. For whatever reason, this is the form I am currently taking."
Crosshair sat back down and without warning, sharply inhaled and let out a sob. Tech put his hand back on his brother's shoulder.
"I've missed you," Crosshair said, trying to compose himself.
"I'm still here," Tech said. "I've always thought of you before I fell and I've been with you since. I cannot fully explain the latter part."
"This is the first time I've seen you like this, though," Crosshair noted.
Tech nodded. They sat in silence for several minutes. Crosshair somehow understood now. All those times he felt like Tech was with him and he tried to suppress the feeling for fear it wasn't true when in reality, his brother had never left him.
"Tech?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry," Crosshair looked into his brother's familiar eyes and couldn't help but let a tear slip despite his best efforts. "I'm sorry I didn't leave the Empire sooner. I missed out on time with you. I should have done better."
Tech shook his head and pulled Crosshair into a hug.
"I am just glad you came home," Tech said. Both men felt relief. Relief that there were no hard feelings between them and that they cared for each other as they always had.
After awhile longer, Tech asked, "Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"
"I don't want to wake up and find you're not here."
"I'll still be here, Crosshair. Even if you can't see me and I promise I'll do my best to show up so you can. There has to be some interesting science behind this and now I have an infinite amount of time to try to figure it out."
Crosshair chuckled. That was so like him. Then, even though Tech had changed form, Crosshair could sense his brother had a question as easily as if they'd both been there in the flesh.
"What is it?" Crosshair asked.
"Are you going to get a prosthetic for your hand?"
"I'm not sure yet. I still have my left hand and Echo's given me some tips on getting by."
"If you do get a prosthesis I would be happy to help you optimize its utility."
"Can you even hold a spanner?" Crosshair asked dryly.
"I'm sitting on your bed and just gave you a hug. If I can do that, I do not see why I cannot use tools to fix something."
"Fair point," Crosshair replied with a grin. "I'll let you know."
Without a word, Crosshair and Tech both laid down as they had done when they were cadets. Instead of reading, they talked about their brothers and Omega. How much time it took them to truly relax on Pabu after the intensity of all that had happened. How Omega was growing, having something of a childhood, and how her piloting skills were improving all the time. They were both filled with pride in her.
It took awhile, but Crosshair finally let himself sleep, still feeling his brother right next to him. When he woke up in the morning, he startled a bit. He couldn't see Tech anymore. His eyes searched his room, but Tech was no where to be found. Had it been a dream? Was his brain taunting him? Just as he wanted to curse these mind games, he felt Tech's hand on his shoulder again and took a deep breath. Tech was still there. Crosshair would never have to be alone again.
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
Note
I love how just. Aesthetic your writing looks and the absolute vibe of it, I was wondering if I could request some form of monster ghost or Konig x innocent reader?
thank you so much, this is my first time writing anything like this, I've never really read any monster fics but I hope this fits what you had in mind, if yall want a pt 2 with smut lmk!
warnings: mention of blood, gn pronouns, not proofread
ghost
It had been a week since he first appeared, looming in the corner of your bedroom, shrouded in darkness, you thought you were dreaming at first, the sight of the tall man watching you a mere figment of your imagination.
You replayed the sight in your mind, the light of the moon outside your window reflecting in his eyes, his dark eyes that made a shiver run down your spine. The weather outside was warm meaning you had to keep your window open to sleep comfortably, the breeze blowing the curtains around every so often.
You would've thought nothing of the shadowy figure if the sight didn't come to you every night, every time you woke to the same scene, his large form lurking in the shadows of your room, it was unsettling, you never addressed him and he never spoke, it felt like even if you wanted to reach out and touch him you couldn't.
This night was different, he was near you, close enough that you could make out the ridges of his form, you could see the rise and fall of his chest, even in the dark you could see the slight gleam in his eyes, his stare pinning you down.
You slowly sat up, your movements hesitant as your eyes stayed focused on him, your pulse thrumming in your ears. He moves closer his scent invading your space you don't dare move again once he stands in front of you, your neck craned upwards to see him.
His hand moves to cup your jaw, his flesh is cold against your warm cheek as you lean into his touch, the room fills with silence, not a word spoken between the two of you as his hands roam your skin.
He pushes your shirt from your shoulders, exposing your collarbone and you flinch,
"Who are you?" The words come out in a whisper as his fingers trace over the veins in your neck, he doesn't answer, simply turning his gaze from your eyes to your skin, his fingers pressing against your pulse point.
"What do you want?"
His hand moves to tilt your jaw toward his face, he kneels in front of you,
"I want you, love"
You shake your head lightly at his words, his hands moving lower on your form as they rise under your shirt, the touch of his cold skin sending a shiver down your spine,
"I lost you many years ago, and you return to me"
Your pulse is rising as you try to catch a glimpse of his face, "I don't understand"
"My love, my beautiful angel, you've come home"
He moves forward, forcing you back from your spot as he leans over your form, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he pushes your shirt from your chest, his eyes roaming over your bare form.
"Please, what do you want from me?" You whimper
His lips ghost over your neck, dragging along your pulse point as he shushes into your skin, "I would never hurt you, my love, just need to taste you, I've missed you so deeply"
You try to talk but your words are forced into your throat as you feel something dig into your neck, you resort to weak sighs and whimpers as his teeth bare into your flesh, his lips sucking at your skin as his hand holds your jaw steady.
Your body feels weightless as the feeling of your warm blood drips down your neck, pooling under you, without thinking your hand moves to settle at the back of his neck, holding him.
He pulls away from you with a groan, the moonlight allowing you to see his face for the first time, his eyes are sunken and bloodshot as your blood stains his chin,
"Taste so heavenly"
He leans over you, his lips pressing against yours, you can taste the metal on his tongue as his teeth bite against your lower lip, drawing more blood. His tongue swirls around yours, a mixture of saliva and iron stinging your tastebuds as he envelops you, he pulls away and you can feel the traces of yourself smeared on your chin, the two of you painted red as his dark eyes bore into you.
You're transfixed by him, everything about him invades your senses, but just as soon as you can touch him he's gone, a wisp through your curtains draws your attention back, your skin tingling with the feeling of him. You feel over your neck for blood, there's no mess but you can feel the two holes that sit at the base of your pulse point, the raised flesh stinging as you run your finger over them, realizing that he wasn't a figment of your imagination.
König
A loud howl breaks your attention from the fire in front of you, the crackling of the wood filling the air, your hair stands on end at the noise. You figured there would be animals in the woods, but not wolves, there were never wolves around these parts.
You assumed you had imagined it, but the silence that followed made your skin crawl, deciding you would be safer in your tent than out in the open, you move from your spot, settling down inside and zipping it closed.
A few minutes of silence pass before you hear some nearby bushes rustle, the sound making your heartbeat race as you pull your blanket higher over your form, the fire outside casts shadows on the tent, your eyes widen at the sight of a tall figure looming outside, holding your breath as it moves around.
You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering words to yourself, praying that you were dreaming as the figure grows closer, it stops in front of the tent, standing there, your pulse is in your ears as you watch it, you see it raise an arm, its hand connecting with the fabric on the tent before it tears s rip down the front.
You're paralyzed as you watch the massive clawed hand push through the opening, it leans over, your eyes locking on it, they're large, staring back at you.
You'd heard stories of werewolves, folktales, but you never believed they were real, not until that moment when an eight-foot-tall wolf standing on its hind legs was staring back at you, your mind doesn't think to fight or run, you simply stare back at it, its deep blue eyes piercing yours.
It was like something in it snapped, in an instant it turned its head, running away, you stand from your spot, following its movement before it disappears. A few moments of silence before you hear yelling and groaning, the sound terrified you, assuming it had found something to kill you chase after it.
You slowly approach a small clearing, hiding behind a tree as you scan the area for any sight of the monster, your eyes dart towards a large man laying in the grass, curled up and groaning in pain.
You make your way over to him, completely ignorant of the fact that he's not wearing clothes you kneel by his side.
"Are you hurt?" Your voice comes out in a panic, your eyes scanning his form for any sign of injury, "I-I can't see, you need to come back to my camp"
The man doesn't respond, your movements are frantic, trying to figure out what to do, your hands move to try and turn him over. He lays flat on his back, his body extended so you can see just how large he is, there's no way for you to carry him, he has to get up.
"Can you walk? Are you alright" You plant a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, it pumps fast below your palm, you can feel every beat vibrate through your own chest, he reaches a large hand over yours, keeping you pressed to his skin, he's too warm, his skin searing to the touch as he holds you.
When he finally opens his eyes you stare into them, trying to read his face but all you can focus on is the blue of his iris, the same piercing blue that stood before you moments ago, you try to pull back from him but his grip keeps you planted.
You stumbled backwards, falling against the grass as he just gazes at you, you breathe a sigh of relief as he releases you, his hands falling to his side, his body lays weak against the grass, his skin covered in dirt and scratches as your eyes roam his form, you pull your jacket off to cover his length, blushing slightly as your eyes linger.
You know you should run, should leave him there but something in you keeps you still, your hands apprehensively feel against his stomach, his hot skin a change from the cool weather, you move closer to him and his heat envelops you,
"S'okay" He mumbles, "I won't hurt you kleine maus, you can touch me"
You move to lay beside him, his large arm snaking under you to pull you close, his warmth spreads throughout your skin, your arms settling over his chest as you rest against his shoulder.
"You should stay warm" His arms pull you against him, keeping you moulded to his form as you seek his warmth, his now steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
"I will keep you safe"
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