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nkogneatho · 7 months

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۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐

—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader

#mlist #taglist #art commissions

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒

For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.

The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.

The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.

"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.

"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.

This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.

One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.

Put your head on my shouuulder...

You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.

Hold me in your arms, baby...

He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.

"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.

The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.

That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.

The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.

Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.

"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"

You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.

You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."

"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.

"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro whenyou signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.

"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.

"You said something, baby?"

"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "

"I'm running in four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.

"Are you in denial?"

"No, darling. I am in love."

Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko

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multifandomsimagine · 9 months

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Imagine Ken getting jealous when another Ken compliments you

It was another perfect day in Barbieland as everyone gathered around the beach to enjoy the sun shining brightly in the sky and the cool ocean breeze that drifted through the air. A majority of the Barbies and Kens had decided to spend some time at the beach to fully bask in the nice weather.

Leaning against the life tower’s railing with Ken, Beach Ken watched the volleyball game before him with keen interest as you, Writer Barbie, and President Barbie played against Physicist Barbie, Doctor Barbie, and Stereotypical Barbie in a very close match. Doctor Barbie hit the ball back over the net, and President Barbie quickly moved toward the ball and bumped it into the air. Running to reach the ball, you jump up and spike it to the other side of the net where the other Barbies were too slow to make it to the ball on time, causing it to fall onto the sand.

“That was such a good spike, Barbie!” He calls out to you, a broad smile on his face as he waves his arm frantically, trying to catch your attention so he can belt out more praises for you. However, his smile quickly turns into a frown as you don’t seem to notice his compliment due to Ken, his long-time rival.

With narrowed eyes, he watches as Ken makes his way from the side of the volleyball court to you. He's too far to make out what Ken is saying but based on his rival's grin and the hand you rest on his bicep, it's not something he likes. With a huff, Ken marches down the life tower ramp. Spotting a surfboard against the tower, his eyes brighten as an idea pops into his head.

"Hey Barbie," He called out to you, feeling more confident about his idea when you turn away his the other Ken to look at him, his rival sporting a deep frown. "Check me out."

Seeing you nod to him, signaling that he had your full attention, Ken takes hold of the surfboard and takes a deep breath before sprinting toward the water. Sadly, his effort to impress you with a surfing trick fail as he crashed into the ocean wave. Bouncing off it, he and his surfboard are launched into the air where he crashes onto the tan sand.

An echo of shocked gasps is heard throughout the beach as you and Doctor Barbie rush toward Ken. "Hi Barbie," Ken says as you crouch down beside him, you rub his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him and distract him from any pain he felt. Butterflies fill his stomach at the motion as you stare at him with great concern.

"Let's get you up on your feet, okay?" Taking hold of his forearm, you and Doctor Barbie carefully help him stand back up as a crowd begins to form around you three. When he's right up again, you move his arm onto your shoulders and wrap an arm around his waist to help support his weight. You gesture for the crowd to part and they quickly follow your directions before you begin helping Ken slowly make his way to the pink vehicle. "Let's head over to the ambulance so Doctor Barbie can fix you right up."

Looking back to the dispersing crowd, he spots Ken staring at him with narrowed eyes, his frown having only grown larger. Ken shoots his rival a smug grin before turning back to look at you. "I wanted to show you a cool trick."

"It's okay." You give him a bright smile. "You can show me next time."

The unpleasantness that Ken felt earlier vanishes as his day becomes perfect now that your attention is focused solely on him.

#Barbie x reader #Barbie imagine #Barbie imagines #Ken x Reader #Ken imagine #Ken imagines #Ryan Gosling!Ken x reader #Ryan Gosling!Ken imagine #Ryan Gosling!Ken imagines #yoshino writes imagines

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pedros-mustache · 1 year

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good thing

word count: ~4k

warnings: smut (18+ only). also: established relationship, angst, non-planned pregnancy, implied sex-for-pay, age gap, language, x fem!reader

a/n: idk you guys. he is—as my middle schoolers would say—Him. it was bound to happen that i would write a pregnancy fic about this man. i will admit that i am weirdly nervous about sharing this fic so please be kind, friends✨🤗

“How long have you known?”

“Long enough.”

“Whose?”

“Not yours.”

The room falls quiet, swollen with the ugly reality of your revelation. Your heart hangs in your chest. A clock on the shelf ticks each miserable second he does not respond.

Joel drums his fingers on the faded arm of the couch, his face blanketed by an unreadable shroud. He stares out the window, and you know he is thinking—wondering—calculating—when this happened. You cannot tell if he is hurt or angry or merely confused, but you can tell he is running the numbers. Running the myriad of possibilities of how you got knocked up under his watch. You could tell him—spill your slimy secrets on the creaking apartment floor like a parishioner at confession—but what good would that do? What would that change? Truth revealed or not, the fact remains:

You are pregnant, and whatever is blossoming between you and Joel, whatever tender flower has broken through cracked soil to find the light of day, the baby is not his. More than that, this development, this situation, marks the end of your budding connection. That glittering future you once saw with him, the future of safety and security at his side? Snipped at the bud, crushed beneath the heel of practicality. You can go no further. Not with him.

Across the apartment, the girl—Ellie—shuffles side to side. You glance at her over your shoulder and watch a wave of discomfort twist her smooth features. You sigh, dropping your arms from their position crossed over your chest.

“Come on, Joel. Now isn’t the time to ask questions. When Tess gets back with the guns, you and her have got to get Ellie out of here.”

Maybe it is something in your resolute tone of voice, or maybe it is reality crashing landing at his feet, but your comment breaks Joel’s attention from the window. He stands, his jaw tight, his brow furrowed. He faces you, and that unreadable shroud falls from his face. He is angry, that much is clear.

He points to the apartment door. “Out.”

The blood in your veins slows, turned sluggish with the weight of your sudden anxiety. “What?” you breathe.

Shaking his head, his free hand comes to rest on his hip. You know the stance: he does it every time you insist on sharing tea in the morning or rubbing the tension from his sore muscles. He’s irritated, but not outraged. That alone is a reassuring sign.

“Not you. Her.” He gestures to Ellie. “Go wait in the hall.”

You start to protest. FEDRA on the move, Fireflies dispersed, night coming quickly—time is wasting. There’s no time for you and him and figuring this out, if that is what he wants. That ship has sailed and sunk beneath a bitter ocean of what-could-have-beens. There is only time for here and now and getting the fuck out of Dodge.

“Joel, I don’t—”

But his face softens as it so rarely ever does. He pulls his stare from the girl and turns his brown eyes—those damn puppy dog eyes—on you, and you are helpless. “Please,” he whispers.

The clock on the shelf ticks louder. Maybe you can steal a few minutes...

Without turning to face Ellie, you cock your head at the door in a silent dismissal. She releases an annoyed huff, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath about fucking adults before slamming the door behind her.

“Delightful child,” you murmur.

“She could save us all.”

Scoffing, you press your palms to the chipped table in the center of the apartment. The wood veneer is smooth, cool to the touch. It soothes your racing heart, even if only for a moment. “You’re starting to sound like Tess.”

Joel remains quiet—perhaps thoughtful, maybe biding his time—but his fixed stare carves gaping holes in the side of your head. You can feel him rooting through your mind like a scavenger. He is wondering when you slipped away long enough, when you found the time. He is replaying the moments in the market when you spoke to any other man and held his gaze for too long. He sifts through your shared memories with frantic fingers, and you can feel him—you know him well enough—to sense the panic swirling in his chest.

But for the first time in the three years you have known him, you do not have it in you to quiet the storm in his mind. You have your own tempest to battle.

Finally, he speaks. “You gonna look at me?”

The slow, deep timbre of Joel’s voice catches you off guard. You expected anger, shouting, frustration that boils over into rage. But Joel has always been gentle with you. Beneath the brusk of necessity, he is a true Southern gentleman. Just like his mama raised him. And even now, standing on the edge of the crumbling cliff where you have placed yourself, he treats you with nothing but respect.

God, you could love him. You really could. If only things were different.

You look away from the table and find him a step closer. Not close enough to touch. He is too angry for that; it is written in the shadow on his brow. But he is close enough that you can see the concern etched in the lines on his face. His frown is not at you, it is for you, and that makes looking at him all the harder.

“When did this happen?”

You shrug, eyes skittering to the floor. “I told you. It doesn’t matter. The details don’t matter.”

“Don’t they?” He has both hands on his hips now, his head tilted as he tries to catch your wandering gaze. “Come on, girl. Answer me. You owe me that.”

He’s right: you do owe him. You owe him so many times over it is impossible to count. Still, if he knew—if he truly knew... There would be no hope of repairing the damage you would cause. You would only split the torn earth on which you stand wider. The crumbling cliff would give way, and you would fall to your doom.

He reaches out. His fingers skim the rough hem of your flannel, his flannel. “Tell me, baby.” Those three words, choked out and brittle with desperation, snap your resolve in two.

You will lay your cards on the table, spread yourself across the sacrificial altar, bear your soul. For him—always for him.

Inhaling, you stand straight, bracing your socked-feet on the floor. You meet his eyes. If you’re going to go down for the decisions of your past, you’ll do it with your chin held high. Your father didn’t raise a quitter.

“Remember that battery, the one for the radio? The boots, the jacket?”

Joel nods. “For my birthday.”

You nod. “For your birthday.”

He holds your unwavering stare. The clock ticks: tick, tick, tick. Understanding rises like a slow tide over his face. You can’t bear to watch it. You look away. Shame gnaws at your stomach like a hungry wolf, and you press a hand to your belly.

“You didn’t—” He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth curling. “You didn’t have to...”

“I wanted to. For you.” Something catches in your throat. You circle the table, placing the furniture between his growing emotion and your growing regret. Fuck, you should have just stayed quiet. “So you could have one good thing.”

“But now you’re—”

“Pregnant.”

Tearing a hand through his hair, Joel twists. He faces the door, and you wonder if he is dreaming of escape just like you. You wonder if he is dreaming of a world where doves still fly and babies live past six months and men and women can afford to build a life together.

He presses a closed fist to his mouth. Light bounces off the cracked face of his wrist watch. “What are you going to do?”

You answer without hesitation. “Keep it.”

His neck turns so fast you swear you hear it crack. You would joke about his age if the situation weren’t so dire. Two nights ago you joked that he is old enough to be your uncle, maybe even your dad; he fucked you good when you said that, just to prove you wrong. That levity feels far away now, impossible to grasp should you even dare try.

“The likelihood of survival—”

“Is slim. For me and the baby, I know. But I’ve thought about it. Hell, I’ve even prayed about it. And I—” You blink away the warm tears rising to blur your vision. “I want this.”

“Why?”

Why? What a simple question. What a loaded answer. You don’t know where to begin. But he looks at you with such earnestness, such a craving to understand, that you have to at least try.

“I want a husband,” you say. When he frowns in confusion, you push onward, the words rising to your tongue like a sermon. “I want a child and a home. A life I can build and call my own. I may never have a husband or a true home, but with this child, no matter how it came to be…” You give a pitiful shrug of your shoulders. “I need something more, Joel. Something more than simply living to die.”

After a moment, when your words have settled like dust on a crowded roadway, Joel motions to your stomach. He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Can—can I?”

“Yes.” You release the word on a stolen breath.

Rounding the table, Joel keeps his focus glued to your abdomen. His chest rises and falls, deep inhale after shallow exhale. He stands before you, a giant amongst men, his fingers shaking as he unbuttons the three lower buttons of his flannel. He brushes the fabric aside, and when your stomach is bare before him, he swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs as though he, too, feels a lump lodged in his throat. He smooths the palm of his hand over the slight bump at your womb. Barely there, blink and you miss it, but unmistakable once noticed.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see,” he murmurs. His thumb massages your ever-stretching skin, back and forth, back and forth. His warm breath fans your face as his forehead comes to rest against yours.

“Because you didn’t want to.”

You pass your fingers through the graying hair at his temples and study the way his eyelashes fan his cheekbones. Little moments, you think, to be tucked away in your heart once this is all over and he is gone.

“When Kate was pregnant, I knew. Sarah... I could feel her...”

Your chin trembles, your fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know... I know...”

“A baby. In this world. I can’t remember the last time I—”

Without warning, he cuts his own thought short and slowly lowers himself to his knees. He presses one hand to the small of your back, the other still massaging the bump of your stomach. You hold your breath as he leans forward and touches your bump with his forehead. He whispers something, something you cannot hear and you suspect is not for you, and then he is standing. He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and when you meet his eyes, you see the world.

“Sugar, you are my good thing.”

I wanted to. For you. So you could have one good thing.

His words—your words—ring loud in your ear, and you choke on a sob as he lowers his mouth to yours. He kisses you like the rain kisses dry land. You are parched, cracked and withered from the fear of this moment, but with his touch, he waters your aching heart. He is eager, holding you close, cradling your jaw with the wide expanse of his hand. Never before, not in the year of sharing his bed, has he kissed you with such devotion coating his lips. You could drown in it.

You tear your mouth away long enough to look over your shoulder. The door to the apartment remains shut, a measly separation between you and the outside world. “The girl—”

Joel shakes his head, already working on the remaining buttons of your flannel. “She doesn’t matter.” He kisses your neck, once, twice, creating a wet trail to your earlobe. “Not right now.”

“Okay.” You turn back to him, your face softening as you catch his dark eyes.

He nudges your nose with the end of his own. “Okay.”

Words dissipate. Like fresh dew beneath the morning sun, the need for talking disappears under the weight of all that is and was and could be. There is nothing more to say—not aloud, not right now—but there is much, oh so much, your body can say for you.

You kiss Joel with a fierceness you have not felt since the first time he laid his hands upon you. You are desperate for him, desperate to tell him just why you did what you did, and how much you need him, want him, fuck—maybe even love him. You part your lips to allow him access, and you cling to his arms, your nails biting the flesh beneath his denim shirt. He hisses when you bite his lower lip, the hand still resting in the small of your back pushing you closer to his warmth. You tangle your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer, closer, as close as he can get without forcing him to merge into your own skin.

With a quiet grunt, he fists his hand in the hair at the back of your head and wrenches to the side. You gasp, eyes widening as he flattens his tongue against your pulse point. He sucks your skin, biting gently, before releasing your neck with a wet pop. You whimper—even as he takes your chin in his fingers again and seals his mouth to yours.

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink fully into the kiss. You do not know what the future holds or what will become of you and the child within. All you know is that here, in the now, in the present, Joel kisses you, and sweeps his tongue across your tongue, and runs his hand down the inside of your jeans to cup your ass. And for right now, in the here and the present, you are okay and you are safe and the risk of being with him is worth the reward.

He squeezes the flesh of your ass again, and you shake yourself free of any wayward thinking. Just him—just you—just now.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers against your lips. “Mine.”

You nod, and through laboring breaths, you confirm what has always been the truth. “Yours.”

It is a backwards, lopsided dance to the only bed in the apartment. He collapses to the edge, and you straddle his thigh as you kiss him. His broad hands run the course of your body, up and down, front and back. He massages your breasts through the paltry fabric you call a bra, pausing long enough to tweak a nipple hard enough you whine. He chuckles, leans forward, sucks the offended nub through the covering. You go to shrug off his flannel, but Joel stops you with a hand to your arm.

“No.” His eyes roam from your face to your shoulders to your peaked nipples and finally, the swollen womb above your center. “Keep it on.”

He leans back on his palms as you unclasp your bra and toss it to the floor. The zipper of his jeans strains against his growing erection. You peel your underwear off and face him with a smirk.

“You’re overdressed.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgment. “Maybe.”

“We should fix that.”

He waves his hand in invitation. “Be my guest.”

Biting your lower lip to conceal a grin, you pounce, zealous for him as much as he is for you. His clothes come off in quick succession until you are both naked save for his flannel hanging loose around your shoulders. He pauses then, a second, maybe two, his hand poised against the side of your neck. His eyes dart between yours, his lips parted, words he dare not say resting on the tip of his tongue.

“I know, baby.” You put one hand on his shoulder, his warm, tan skin a comfort against the chill in the room. You reach out and grip his hard cock with your opposite hand, and when he winces in pleasure, you brush your knuckles over the hair on his jaw. “I know.”

Joel allows you to stroke him, a rare occurrence in your repertoire of fucks. What is normally a frenzied connection in the dark, moments stolen before the light of day brings reality crashing back, is turned slow by the knowledge that things are different now. Things cannot be as they once were, no matter what the future may bring. So you stroke his cock, spit in your hand, and stroke it faster. Up and down, until he is pulsing in your hand and weeping from the tip. He drops to his back on the bed, his face buried in his hands as you touch him.

But then you pull away.

Joel removes his hands from his face. He stares at you, a flash of annoyance brightening his eyes. “What—”

“Shh.” You plant both hands on his sturdy chest as you swing your leg over his hips. “Walls are thin.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you run your dripping warmth over his tip. You hover above him, eyes rolling back in your head as you tease yourself. Sparks of pleasure radiate through your body, and you grit your teeth to keep from moaning. Joel grabs your hips, but he does not force you down. No, he waits until you are ready. He waits until you position his cock at your entrance and begin the slow descent to heavenly madness.

You suck in a deep breath as his cock stretches you open. He fits snug in your core, like he was crafted just for you. When you have adjusted to his girth, you move your hands to grip his arms. You shift your knees, lifting your hips up before descending again. Over and over, a smooth, unchanging rhythm.

You are in no hurry to find release. For once this fuck is more than finding a shot of pleasure amidst the cruel darkness of the world. You want this to last and you want this to feel good. You need this imprinted upon your mind, locked in the secret place of your heart.

But you and he both can only take the slowness for so long.

Joel soon resumes his position of dominance, as is custom when his need builds. You allow it because you crave it. His breadth and strength and command shields you from danger in the outside world, but you crave it in bed too, when you can allow that breadth and strength and command to slam the fear from your mind.

He slides an arm around your waist and flips you to your back, keeping you snug beneath him. He gives a few experimental thrusts before he kisses you—softly, a tender hello before the war that is sure to come. He leans back and exposes your body to the yellow light of the room. He trails his hand down your sweaty chest. His fingers dance over your bump, hovering there as if in prayer, before finding your swollen clit. You gasp, hips lifting upward, as he rubs you in circle after circle. He brings you to the edge before pulling away and gripping your shins with his hands. He pushes forward, and you are bent in half, completely at his mercy.

Holding your knees to your chest, he picks up the pace. He plows into you, teeth gritted, lips pulled back in a snarl. He watches his rigid length split you apart, thrust after thrust. On some level, you know he is staking his claim. He drives into you with such force, with such feral carnality, you know there is some part of him that just wants to mark his territory. Reclaim what is rightfully his. You let him because it is true. You belong to him, Joel Miller, not the man who planted his seed in you and walked away. Always and forever—his—your purpose.

You slap your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out in delicious agony. You feel stretched and full and electric all at once.

“That’s it.” Joel releases your shins but presses his chest to your legs. Your hips lift, swallowing him to the hilt. “Take me—fuckin’—good.”

The pressure in your core builds. Light dances at the fringes of your touch. You close your eyes, latching on to the feeling.

Leaning back, Joel swats your hip. “Open your eyes.” He withdraws his cock far enough to slam into you with more force, his tip angled against your most sensitive spot. “Look at me.” He swats your ass again.

Dutifully, you peel your eyes open. You look at him—into his eyes, his soul—as he fucks you.

You burst like the skin of a ripe grape. It is violent, sudden, earth-shattering. You convulse beneath him, and the tremors wracking your frame are enough to send him over the edge. He grabs the curve of your waist with one hand, lurching forward to catch himself on his forearm above your head. He swallows his groan of pleasure, managing to barely release a muffled whimper. His warmth oozes from your core and stains the bed sheets beneath.

He remains tucked inside of you until you are forced to push him away. A cramp in your leg demands attention, and you rub the blasted muscle until the pain has subsided. You return to his side, to his sweaty body, to his arm that slips beneath his flannel and lays beneath your back. He rolls to his side to face you.

The truth of your situation looms like a storm cloud at the edge of the room. He can see it; you can see it. You must acknowledge it before the here and now is upon you and you have no plan with which to fight it.

“What are we gonna do?” You hold his forearm, thumb brushing the bone of his wrist. His hand is warm and heavy on your cheek, his eyes married to yours.

He does not hesitate. “I’ll keep you safe. Both of you. All of you.” He smooths the sweat-plastered hair away from your face. “I promise.”

You nod because Joel Miller always keeps his promises. Whatever he says is true.

He relaxes his hold on your face as he shifts onto his back. His eyes flutter shut, his breathing even. You glance at him and the evening light that cuts his face in angular shadows.

“Hey, Joel?”

He opens one eye, peers at you in expectation.

You smile—softly, a tender hello before the war that is sure to come. “You’re my good thing, too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #hbo the last of us

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st6rly · 6 months

Text

steal my breath (take my heart)

synopsis: distance tugs at the heartstrings; it’s not gravity or ocean waves that bring me back, wanting you. (in other words, we meet again) | wc — 0.2k

[ !! ] — masterlist.

characters: ayato, kaveh, wriothesley x gn!reader

categories: fluff, scenarios

warnings: mildly suggestive (making out basically lmao), mention of food / drinks

notes: mwahahahaha 😼 idk just felt like doing that lol. there's nothing to be mwhahaha-ing about with this tbh. i have no idea what time afternoon tea should be at so bear with me.

AYATO.

“Ayato, I’m-”

His hands found purchase in your shirt, woven into the fabric, as his lips met yours in a fevered flurry. Skin clashed. Ayato’s need shone through for a brief moment but it dispersed once he pulled back. A deep inhale, the adjustment of his robe, he smiled politely and bowed as if he hadn’t left you stunned to silence in front of him.

“It’s lovely to have you home safe, my love.”

KAVEH.

“You’re here!”

The smell of parchment and ink engulfed you as he swept you into a hug the minute you stepped onto the dock. Blonde hair tickled your neck as he buried his face into your shoulder. Kaveh grinned, tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, while he clutched you close to him. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

WRIOTHESLEY.

“The commission won’t take long. I’ll be back by teatime.”

The clink of a teacup against its plate was the only sound beside the occasional sigh let out in his office. Wriothesely ran a hand through his hair; tired eyes scanned over documents as he waited for the clock to hit two. He glanced at the time, smiled to himself when there was a knock and the door creaked open, and looked up to find you in the doorway.

“Your chair is over there and so is your tea, just how you like it.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #astronetwrk #ayato x reader #wriothesley x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin scenarios #ayato fluff #wriothesley fluff #kaveh fluff #! notepad.txt

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months

Note

Could you write the beach scene where Conrad gets into a fight and instead of Belly getting hit it’s reader. Maybe she was kissing some other guy and that’s why Conrad was drinking?

Continue sending requests for Conrad/Jeremiah!! I added them to my taglists, so please get on it if you want to be notified when I post a new one. Also, season 2 is coming very soon <3 I can't wait for all the Taylor music they're gonna use again

I didn't plan on going over 1k, but my fingers slipped XD

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Music was mixing with the soft swishes of the ocean, marking the first night of summer at Cousins’ beach. After months in the city that never sleeps, it was nice to be back. The smell of the ocean, the feeling of the sand under your feet, the calm swish of the waves, the beautiful sunsets — there were no such things in New York.

Talking about things New York didn’t have, your mouth busy kissing the cute boy you met on the boardwalk yesterday. You didn't plan on kissing him — or anyone — at the bonfire, but he smelled really good and his smile was causing a kaleidoscope in your stomach, and before you realized what was happening, he was leaning to kiss you.

His name was Benjamin…or was it Brad? God, you couldn’t remember. What you knew was the sensation of his body pressed against yours, the intertwining of tongues, and the gentle touch of his hands as they slid to your waist and effortlessly pulled you closer.

This summer was going to be amazing.

Your bubble of summer-lovin' was popped when a sudden commotion about a beer reached your ears, drawing your attention away from Brody. He whined, trying to join your lips again, but you turned your head in direction of the heated voices, one of them familiar to you.

‘’Shit,’’ you muttered under your breath, seeing Conrad shoving another guy and getting shoved back. This was not going to end well… ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

Brody nodded as you stood from the sand and went over, foolishly believing that you could mediate the altercation.

‘’Hey, Conrad that’s enou—’’ you began, only to be abruptly halted by a forceful elbow striking your cheekbone, sending you on the ground.

The sudden assault had drawn Conrad's attention away from the beer-fueled dispute, his drunken gaze fixed upon you with concern. He tried to get to you, see if you were okay, but the other guy wasn't willing to let Conrad off the hook so easily, launching a punch before he could reach your side.

‘’What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ Conrad's anger flared as he retaliated, delivering a punch of his own.

Amidst the chaos, Jeremiah caught sight of the brawl and quickly ran over to you. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked, extending a hand and helping you getting back on your feet, his genuine concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, wincing as you covered your aching cheekbone. It’s gonna be bruised tomorrow. Brad, having witnessed the unfortunate turn of events, also approached to offer his support. He tried to cup your face to assess the injury, but you dodged his contact.

Seeing you were relatively okay, Jeremiah pointed towards Conrad and you nodded again, silently telling him to go. You doubted he’ll be able to break the fight, but hopefully someone will come and help.

‘’You should put some ice on that,’’ Brody advised, but all you could think about was Conrad.

Getting into fights was unlike him. But he hasn’t really been himself lately…

A sudden cry of ‘’Cops!’’ echoed through the beach, instantly causing a wave of panic and dispersal among the party-ers. People fled in different directions, seeking to avoid any potential trouble with law enforcement.

While running off, you managed to get away from Brody, no longer wanting to be by his side. It was nothing personal. Old ghosts just pulled you back in.

You emerged on the road, scanning all the cars on each side until you caught the unmistakable red of Conrad's Jeep parked on the road. The backdoor on the driver side was open as Jeremian helped Conrad get in the backseat of the jeep.

‘’Jere! Wait up!’’ you called out at him.

‘’Watch your head. Your legs,’’ Jeremiah said, making sure he wouldn’t be catching any of his drunk brother’s limbs when closing the door.

Conrad grumbled, half laying down on the backseat. ‘’I know how to get into a car,’’ he muttered.

‘’Can I come with?’’ you asked, trying to not glance at Conrad. ‘’I…I don’t have a ride home.’’

Jeremiah nodded, and both of you climbed into the jeep, fastening your seatbelts before driving away.

Only to slam the brakes two seconds later and come to an abrupt halt. ‘’Fuck. Steven.’’ Jeremiah turned to you before getting out. ‘’Watch Conrad, I’ll be right back.’’

Conrad and you were in the car silently. It felt eerily quiet, and even though it was only just past one, you were completely exhausted. In the backseat, Conrad was quiet, lost in his drunken haze. Neither of you spoke for a moment, until he started playing with a piece of your hair.

‘’How did you get into this mess?’’

‘’The guy wanted my beer,’’ he explained simply, softly.

‘’And you didn’t think you had enough?’’ Conrad was silent, so you glanced at him through the visor mirror. ‘’Why did you drink so much?’’

‘’You.’’

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Me?’’

He let go of your hair and leaned his head against the window. ‘’Why were you with that guy? Is…is he your new boyfriend?’’

No.

Brody was charming and sweet, but you didn’t see him as a potential boyfriend. You weren’t looking for a relationship at the moment. That would be stupid given you were starting college in September.

‘’That’s none of your business,’’ you said instead, brushing off his question.

After playing cat and mouse all summer the year prior — and some of autumn —, you and Conrad decided to call it quits in the spring. You never officially dated, just played around, but a part of you had been hopeful Conrad would change his mind and want to take it to the next level. Unfortunately, he was never yours to lose.

‘’I don’t like when you kiss someone else. You should be kissing me.’’

The atmosphere in the jeep became tense as Conrad's words hung in the air. Had he not been so intoxicated, he would never have said that. You could feel the weight of his emotions and the unresolved tension between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, not wanting to lash your emotions at him. ‘’You dumped me, remember?’’ you reminded him, trying to ignore the sleeping pain hidden in a compartment of your heart.

‘’Seeing you with someone else... it drives me crazy,’’ he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.

Twisting in your seat, you turned to face Conrad.

Conrad and his stupid temper. Had he not gotten into a dumb fight over a beer, the side of your face wouldn’t be in pulsing pain. You also would not be sitting in his jeep with him.

Without saying anything, he reached for your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

Before you could say anything, the driver side’s door opened, snapping you and Conrad from your moment.

‘’I found him!’’ Jeremiah announced, getting in while Steven did the same, complaining about having to sit in the backseat and having not enough room for his legs.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

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archonsabyss · 8 months

Text

╰─..✶. [ Loves Embrace ]

❒ pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

❒ genre: fluff!

❒ warnings: none

❒ wc: 1.4k

─❒ authors note: I may be falling for him.. hard

Nuevillete, with a gentle smile on his lips, leans forward in his seat and attentively asks, "My Dear, what brings you here?"

He watches as you enter his work study and walk over to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek before settling into the chair in front of him. Nuevillete smiles at your display of affection and leans back as he gazes at you.

"I was passing by on my way home and I missed you so I thought I'd pay you a visit"

"Forgive me" Neuvillette responds, extending his hand to delicately grasp yours from across the table and tenderly stroke the back with his thumb. "It seems my tasks have consumed much of my time lately making this unexpected visit most refreshing"

The smile upon your lips disperses his guilt for only a moment as it reminds Neuvillette of the many reasons he fell in love with you. However, in your eyes, there's a trace of loneliness that conveys he's been more absent than he realized and although you've reassured him that you understand the demands of his job and his responsibility to Fontaine, he can't shake the remorse that he's slowly been neglecting his duty as your husband.

As the realization dawns on him, he lets go of your hand from across the table and rises from his seat to circle the desk and come closer to you. He reaches a gloved hand to gently touch your cheek before he leans in, softly pressing his lips to yours, stealing your breath as they meld seamlessly. The longing for his presence begins to fill at his endearing act of affection, the gentle touch of his hand that maintains its hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, releasing his regret and pouring in his immense love for you.

"My affection for you is profound, surpassing even the vastness of the ocean, and your love stirs my heart in a way that no amount of tears ever could"

The luminous gaze of his pearly eyes peering into the depths of your soul, resembles the gaze of a man deeply enamoured, feeling as if one is delving into the heart of a man who exists solely for you. Words simply fall short of describing this captivating affection that radiates from his eyes, leaving you with a heartfelt smile as your hands tenderly cradle his cheeks, drawing him nearer until your foreheads and noses gently touch, sharing a warm exchange of breaths.

The fragile, porcelain-like skin beneath your loving touch feels as delicate as glass, yet you handle it with utmost care, just like the first time your lips met his.

Every second that he stays with you brings him comfort as he leans in, revelling in the sense of belonging you provide.

"I find myself engulfed in my workload, and at times, it consumes my thoughts to the point where I forget everything else until it is time for me to leave," He explains further, his words laced with urgency to convey his absence. "But know, you are my priority. Hold me by my heart, I promise that you are all that matters to me."

"Yeah?" You inquire in astonishment, your thoughts struggling to grasp the depth of his feelings. It's hard to believe that someone as ordinary and unassuming as you could hold such significance for someone as extraordinary and remarkable as him, someone seemingly beyond your reach.

"It appears I haven't fulfilled my role as your husband adequately, my beloved, if my devotion to you comes as such a surprise," He says, a touch of regret in his voice as he takes your hand and urges you to stand.

"If I could envelop you in my embrace and spend every moment showering you with kisses, imparting the depth of your significance until your entire world revolves around your self-worth, I most certainly would," He whispered tenderly into your ear as he embraced you with one hand gently cradling the back of your head as your face nestles against his chest, his otherhand lovingly shaping itself to your lower back.

"I believe in your sincerity, my Love. Every word you say holds significance to me" You reassured, gripping the back of his coat tightly. "At this moment I know that Fontaine needs your attention more than I do, but I have confidence that, just as we've done in the past, we'll overcome this"

"Forgive me, Archons, for I would forsake my duties and responsibilities, allowing the world to descend into chaos and turmoil just to be with you" He uttered exasperatedly, pulling away to look at your face.

"My love," You speak fondly, "You've filled me with pride— immense pride. I would not want to diminish your generosity, but it warms my heart to know how much you would willingly give for me."

Nuevillette bestows upon you a gentle, proud smile and tenderly draws you nearer to him, seemingly unable to get enough of your companionship.

"I would give you the world" He speaks with solemnity, and your faith in his words is unwavering. However, the world holds far less appeal to you than having him in any form or circumstance. Regardless of what the universe may bestow or fate may dictate, as long as he remains alive and breathing, and you can hold him close, that is your greatest desire.

He gently strokes your cheek with his bare hand, for what feels like the umpteenth time.

"I can't argue against that," You whispered so softly, nuzzling your nose against his, tempted to initiate a kiss as he professed his love for you with words that easily won your heart over.

"I'd offer you the same" You inhale deeply before withdrawing, a playful twinkle in your eyes, while Nuevillete's steady gaze remains locked onto you, his lips curving with a mischievous hint.

"Dear one, you sway my heart. Your words are incredibly alluring, and unlike you, I don't believe I'll offer any resistance" Nuevillete playfully says as he leans in to reciprocate the kiss.

A satisfactory moan hums from your chest, "What would your wife say of this behaviour, Monsieur Neuvillette"

"I think she would commend my attempts at seduction"

"Fortunately, she is right here; things might have taken a different turn if I were someone else receiving your seduction" You beam with a broad grin while adjusting his collar.

"Fret not, Dear. This is not a concern you shall ever need to trouble yourself with."

"I may need a little more convincing"

"Are you attempting to divert my attention from my duties?" He playfully queries, his arms encircling you as he draws you closer. "Do not reckon I'd possess the fortitude to withstand such temptations," Neuvillette replied earnestly with his eyes taking on a dangerously dark intensity while his lips drew pursed.

"I reckon I ought to take a respite for the day?" He mused with a light-hearted tone, the allure of spending time with you far surpassing the paperwork on his desk, but you shake your head disapprovingly.

"I do not want to pull you from work, you will have me later when you return home"

"And pray, my dear, what are your intentions upon my return?" He inquires furthermore with curiosity, his fingers still tenderly tracing the contours of your face.

"Do not tease me"

"My curiosity is quite genuine and I must admit, darling, concentrating on work becomes quite the challenge when the enticing thought of you awaiting me at home lingers," He remarks with a sly grin.

"You have managed well the past month, Monsieur. I believe you can handle a few hours more" You add raking your hands through his hair, trying not to mess it up as you did.

You plant a tender kiss on his cheek, then gracefully distance yourself, prompting his swift and bewildered longing as he reaches out for you. "You should get back to work"

"I suppose I have no choice then" Neuvillette sighed, reclining against the edge of his desk, his eyes sweeping over you as he committed the joyful smile you wore to memory, aware of the pain it caused you to part from him when you yearned for his company.

With a tender touch, Neuvillette gently pulled you closer, guiding you between his legs. He planted a farewell kiss on your cheek, then your forehead, and finally let his lips linger on yours. In that unspoken kiss, a silent promise was made. He vowed to be the husband you deserved - attentive - present and affectionate - from this moment onward.

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!

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theaawalker · 5 months

Text

Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)

You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he’s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.

"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.

Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”

You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.

During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.

“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.

You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.

“Sure,” you answer.

One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.

“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”

Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”

Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.

When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.

Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.

The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.

She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.

Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”

His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”

All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?

At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”

That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.

You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.

Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”

He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.

He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.

“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.

You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.

He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.

What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.

You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”

You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?

After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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dabisbratz · 1 year

Text

FREEFALLING. — gojo satoru x male reader

wc: 1.7k

additional tags: male reader, established relationship, spit(ting), fingering, penetrative sex, frottage, gojo’s a little mean but sweet at the same time, petnames, kissing, praise, dirty talk, subspace, daddy kink (but only briefly + in a joking manner), author was sooo sleepy while writing this

genitalia terms: cock, hole (though if you don’t have that it’s still ambiguously written!)

a/n: im not ignoring requests!! im just very busy with school and it’s kinda hard to find motivation…. gojo just happened to be on my mind + i was in need of comfort so……… anyway i hope it’s okay! it’s definitely not my best but i think it’s okay for the long break….

Your metal keys clink in your hand, keychains and miniature decals swaying gently as you unlock the front door of your shared apartment— which remains quiet and almost vacant, save for the distant sound of ever-changing television channels. Sluggishly carrying your tired body through the door, you slip off your sneakers with a quiet huff. You press your palms against your eyes until you see an amalgamation of blue and purple swimming into your vision, teeth bared in frustration. Your jaw aches, your throat feels sore, and your tongue, heavy.

School was beating your ass.

When you get home, you expect departing sunlight peeking through the curtains— warm, pink rays of light that dance and flicker across blue irises. Warm, pink rays that caress your cheek like the knuckles of your boyfriend, the palms of his strong hands. It’ll overwhelm you at first, you think, so bright and unapologetic as your weary eyes adjust and focus, but you’ll quickly crash, pupils constricting as the disturbance dwindles. And, suddenly, the star’s saturation is comforting. It’s home.

Home— the only thing distracting you from the heavy textbooks weighing down your back and uncomfortably bending your spine. Home was Satoru.

…Satoru. You miss him, even if you had seen him just a few nights ago.

Huffing once again, your socks pad against the hardwood floors of your apartment as you make your way to your bedroom, backpack slowly descending down your sore shoulders. With each step you take, the foggier your vision becomes, and you feel as though you’ve been submerged in the deepest part of the ocean, unrelenting and ruthless as wave after wave crashes into your ribcage. The static in your ears grows louder and louder, ready to combust and burst your eardrums. Instead of the inviting (though somewhat frustrating) laughter of your boyfriend, the cruel sea storms forward against your chest, shoving it back and forth. Back and forth, to and fro, against your body as your knuckles turn white and your vision starts to spot.

Back and forth, you come undone.

“‘Toru..” You sniffle, absentmindedly dropping your bag down with a loud thud the minute your eyes land on your partner. He’s laying on his back, white hair catching sunlight like a makeshift halo, as specks of dust dance around the room and shimmer over his eyelids and lashes. Gray sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, and if you look close enough you can see where his happy trail begins to disperse lower. Just a sliver of his stomach can be seen, where he rests a large hand beneath his black t-shirt. Angelic.

“Ah, you’re home!” He chirps as if he didn’t know you were home before you’d even actually got there. His blue eyes flicker to meet your face, his wide grin slightly dropping once he sees the tears welling in your eyes. His eyebrows raise along with his body, his forearms flexing as he sits forward and onto his knuckles, leaning forward to get a closer look.

“I missed you,” Your voice comes out barely as a whisper, knees buckling as you fall forward onto the soft mattress. It dips under your weight, and Gojo makes an effort to cup your face as you fall. You find yourself leaning into his hand, eyes fluttering closed to sedate the burn consuming your senses. He hums, waiting for you to continue. “…Had a bad day.”

“Oh,” Satoru purrs, because he’s a little mean, and he’d be lying if he said you didn’t look pretty with tears in your eyes— even if it does tug on his heartstrings. Still, his hand is warm and comforting, as he snakes it down to the back of your neck and pulls you into a hug. He sucks his teeth, and you can feel the gentle shake of his head. “My poor baby.”

His trimmed nails gently scrape against the nape of your neck, rubbing soothing patterns into your skin. Your next huff is much more content, as you melt in his embrace and sink further into his arms. Gojo always knows what you need, even when you don’t. You notice it much too late, a whimper escaping your parted lips as he pulls away to kiss your forehead.

Satoru’s pupils are blown wide, sparkling irises almost enveloped by deep black pupils as he presses his plump lips against yours. The kiss is soft and sweet, fogging up your brain and leaving your mind blank as you press your skin against his. He hushes you, lovingly, gliding his tongue against your own.

“I thought about you all day, all I could think about.”

You’re both breathless, gasps leaving your lips as he all-but consumes you, veiny hands slipping beneath your clothes. Your shirt slips off easily enough, and your body arches against his fingertips as he moves to unbutton your pants. You wish you could burn it into your skull, the sight of his pale hands tugging down your jeans. As if he can feel your gaze, Gojo looks up at you through his lashes.

“God, you drive me crazy. So fucking sweet, aren’t you? Sweet voice, sweet hands, sweet hole.”

Like a broken record, you whine, “I need—”

“I know, shh, honey, I know,” He laughs, wholeheartedly and dizzy as he presses a kiss to your stomach, white hair spilling onto your ribs and tickling your sides. His cheek presses against your hip, and he inhales deeply before murmuring: “You got me. I’m right here. Gonna let me fuck you, baby? Nice and slow, or—”

Your legs spread on instinct, hands sliding down your skin as you reach for your boyfriend’s, lacing your fingers together as he results in using his teeth at the band of your boxers. “Hard and deep? Wanna watch you take it, get you all sloppy and wet, hit that spot that gets you whiney and pliant.. Fuck, hold on, baby.”

The imprint of his dick against his boxers is prominent, your eyes widening as you watch him grip his shaft through the cloth, squeezing gently as his cock twitches in his hand. Satoru’s gasp is choked, and his head falls forward as he tugs once, twice, three times for temporary release. Your skin prickles and ignites as you reach for his waistband, almost jealous of his hands but completely flustered by the idea of being so hot to him that he can’t help but jerk himself off. “My sweet boy, sitting around rude people who don’t appreciate the work you put in— my sweet boy, dealing with so much stress when all he needed was some dick.”

Gojo grins, dimples pooling at his cheeks as he watches you free yourself from the confines of your underwear and buck your hips forward, almost trapping him between your legs. He grabs two handfuls of your thighs, pulling you in to rut against your inner thighs. Your cock twitches, jumping at the contact of cotton against the sensitive head.

Your open-mouthed pants have Satoru’s eyes rolling into his skull, and he reluctantly moves a hand to gently tap your cheek, “Open, sugar. Wider.”

“Ohh,” You moan, opening your mouth to catch the spit leaving your boyfriend’s mouth. He smears a bit of it against your cheek, later placing a kiss directly on top. He makes a comment about slapping his cock against your tongue, how deep you’d take it down his throat, and groans at the sound of your appreciative moan. “‘Toru.”

“Okay, m’sorry, Daddy’s being too mean, huh?” He tacks on a nasally voice, high pitched and condescending as if to say you sound like that. And if you could, you’d slap his chest for the remark, but seeing as he’s stripping before your eyes, you have no complaints.

His cock claps against his abdomen, leaking and throbbing as he spreads your knees up to your shoulders. Subconsciously, you hold onto the back of your knees, watching as his lubed ring finger— when did he get that? — gently prods at your hole. It sinks in slow, immediately rubbing against the bundle of nerves that has your eyes crossing and fingers curling.

“Fuck, this hole,” He groans, watching it clench and unclench around his finger. There’s an obscene squelch, and Gojo has to manually swallow the drool pooling in his mouth. “Gonna let me fuck it baby, hm? Gonna let me use it over and over again? Make it mine, fill you up?”

“Uh-huh, please, I can take it,” You babble, squirming down to take his finger in deeper. There’s no resistance as he adds another finger, curling and stroking your walls deeper than you could ever imagine when doing it yourself.

“Oh honey, of course you can,” Satoru hums, placing a kiss at the back of your thighs, right below your ass. You tremble, sobbing into your arm as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out, in and out. “Even if you couldn’t, Daddy’ll make it fit.”

He swats your arm away from your face, his left hand trailing down to your neck to lightly squeeze. Your hands hold onto his wrist, and a shy smile graces your swollen lips. “Let me see your pretty face. I wanna watch you while I feed this greedy hole with my cock.”

On queue, the thick head of his dick slowly presses into your hole, and your grip on his wrist tightens, eyes fluttering shut as you squeal, throbbing around him. Satoru coos, slowly pressing in further as he reminds you to breathe in and out. Like clockwork, you can feel the vein in his shaft sink into you, drool escaping your parted lips.

Eventually, his cock pistons in and out of you, deep and thorough as you whine, only able to hold onto your lover and take it.

“That’s it, that’s it. Such a good boy, you take me so well. This is all you needed, right, sugar? Whenever you’re upset, just need a cock deep inside this pretty little hole to feel better, hm? It’s all mine, right, honey?” You nod, frantic and rushed as you reach down to rub your cock along with his thrusts.

“All yours, s’yours— my- s’your hole.” You wail, toes curling as Satoru’s thighs slap against yours, loud and competing against your shared moans.

“Atta boy.”

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exactlycleverpirate · 2 months

Text

(Over) Analyzing the Love and Deepspace Theme Song

“Some long for longevity

Before fading to dust

Some long for eternal sleep

And eulogy chanted by stars

Into that serenity

Their lost time forever buried

She rambled a thousand times

And million miles

Searching for her light

Free from the rule of death

Now seem so dull

Time goes by but memories rewind

Here she prays again

Back when things began

Where to go

Where they meet and grow old

Where no rivers would flow

No woods would grow

No life would never be ceased

Or somewhere they could start again

Where they would never be the same

Where rains everyday

Fain they would stay

Some forsake longevity

Then fading to dust

Some fall for eternal sleep

Their eulogies turn into gleaming stars

Will they meet in stars again

Or gone with the wind”

Spoilers under the cut.

Some long for longevity

Before fading to dust

I think this line could be a reference to the people of Philos, especially the ones on Earth. The Backtrackers are trying to find a way to prolong Philos and their lives with it. When Xavier cuts down the man in the alley, he dissolves into dust. The planet is dying and has no oceans. The whole planet is described as being dustier than Earth was. The imagery during the video for these lines is of the galaxy.

The Wanderers also fade to dust when they are cut down. In fact, the first scene we see of Xavier in the game is him cutting down Wanderers and them dispersing into light.

Additionally, there are people on Earth who are trying to achieve immortality, particularly those who are using Lemurian blood to prolong their lives. Meanwhile, in Fragrant Dream, Rafayel dissolves into sea foam to save MC. (But this could be a bit of a stretch.)

Some long for eternal sleep

And eulogy chanted by stars

Eternal sleep is a common theme throughout this game. Zanye falls into eternal sleep in his myth. Rafayel will also fall into eternal sleep in his myth if something doesn't change. Meanwhile, Xavier is suspiciously tired all the time.

Particularly telling is that these lines coincide with a silhouette of Xavier in the video, as well as a starry expanse. The implication seems to be that Xavier is longing for that eternal sleep. Which wouldn't be terribly surprising. He has been living and fighting and losing the person he loves over and over for a very long time.

A eulogy is something written or spoken to remember those who have died. In this case, the stars themselves are the ones speaking the memories. It makes me think of old mythology where great heroes and demi-gods would be immortalized in constellations when they died.

I think this segment is also connected to Wanderers, and Xavier's story is particularly tied to Wanderers. I think it is very possible that whatever humanity remains in the Wanderers wants to be at rest, finally. I think there is likely relief when Xavier (and Zayne in his 3rd Anecdote), set them free to finally rest in peace.

Into that serenity

Their lost time forever buried

Here, the video shows us a silhouette of Zayne, and behind him is Mt. Eternal. At the end of his myth, Zayne has slipped into the serenity of eternal sleep, buried under a snowy blizzard. Additionally, at the end of the Main Story chapter 8, we see Zayne interacting with something buried under ice.

Even before this, in Zayne's Myth, they lose time again and again as their memories are erased, and they are reset. Additionally, there is some time weirdness going on between Doctor Zayne and Dawnbreaker Zayne.

She rambled a thousand times

And million miles

Searching for her light

The video shows planet Earth rotating and a sun rising over the horizon. This is clearly about MC, traveling worlds and times, resurrecting again and again, searching for her love(s), her freedom, her memories. Particularly poignant is Queen MC at the end of Xavier’s Myth, thinking about how her star is gone.

Free from the rule of death

Now seem so dull

Time goes by but memories rewind

This section is paired with Rafayel's silhouette in the video. It is hard to make out the background, but I think it is an underwater city, presumably Lemuria. Lemurians are naturally eternal/immortal. As far as we have seen so far, they are the only people in the game who come by this naturally (unless this is a result of that ancient Lemurian technology, but either way, immortality is literally in their blood).

Rafayel may die, but the implication through his content seems to be that when he does die, he will merge into the waters of the ocean and one day be reincarnated. He is free from the rule of death, but over and over in his stories and behavior, we see that he is bored. Life has become dull (particularly without MC). He talks of death as a blessing for Lemurians in Whalefall Lament.

Something that is an important reoccurring theme throughout Rafayel's content is memories. MC has forgotten him, which he is very frustrated about. In Fragrant Dream, she has forgotten him as well, and restoring her memories and humanity costs Rafayel his life. In his myth, Rafayel tries to erase her memories to protect her, but she remembers anyway, and tells him she is not someone who easily forgets (which seems a little ironic, given how much she has forgotten across times and tales).

Rafayel also seems to have the potential to have the oldest memories with her. Where Xavier’s memories are primarily in the future, I think it likely that many of Rafayel's are in the past (though not the myth). If I were to have each man represent an aspect of time, I would say Xavier is future, Zayne is present, and Rafayel is past. And I think we see that connection here with memories rewinding.

I will add that MC has lost memories of all 3 men throughout her various stories, though I would argue that current day MC has primarily lost memories of Rafayel, as she only met Zayne after the Chronorift Catastrophe, and most of her story with Xavier is set in the future, but present day MC has only just met him (aside from a brief encounter during the Chronorift Catastrophe).

Here she prays again

Back when things began

The video at this part once more shows a galaxy/starry expanse.

I'm inclined to say this is also connected to Rafayel's story, though I'm not sure. There are two different gods we see mentioned in Love and Deepspace, the God of the Sea (Rafayel) and Astra. Though this could refer to praying at the shrines and things of that nature just in general, praying for luck, well being, help, etc.

But I do think it is interesting that in Rafayel’s myth, there is a suggestion that she is/was a follower/devotee/worshiper of the Sea God. Adding to that my thoughts that Rafayel has the oldest connection, and the “back when things began” is a good fit too. However, Xavier’s Anecdote 3 can also be seen as a beginning, particularly of the time-loop they seem to be trapped in now.

Where to go

On this line, the video flashes through the locations of each of the myths. First the city in the Golden Sands of Rafayel's myth, then the castle in Philos where Xavier is, and finally the Tower of Thorns where Zayne is trapped.

Where they meet and grow old

Where no rivers would flow

Here, we again see Rafayel in the video. Of my experience going through the content, Rafayel is the most blatant and consistent about wanting to spend his life with MC, and even refers to her as his bride in the myth. Thus we have connected with him the longing to grow old with MC. To have her beside him throughout his life. Indeed, I think he gave her his heart because he knew otherwise they would one day be separated by her truly dying, and he wanted to make her immortal like himself, so she could live on with him, over the course of their lives.

Rivers flowing is a plain reference to the city in the Golden Sands that is the source for 64 rivers, yet the land has no ocean. All water, at least in that area, flows from the city, which happens to be where MC is essentially imprisoned in order to protect the immortality of the people of Philos. The people of Philos, at least in the Golden Sands, hoard the water, MC, and immortality, all of which they have essentially stolen from Rafayel.

No woods would grow

No life would never be ceased

Here we go to Zayne. Honestly, I would have expected “no woods would grow” to be connected to Xavier and Starfall Forest. And while that may be a part of it, the video seems to make a direct link to the thorns in the Tower of Thorns instead.

“No life would never be ceased” is particularly interesting for Zayne. It works well as a connecting theme between Doctor Zayne, Dawnbreaker Zayne, and Myth Zayne.

Doctor Zayne is haunted by every patient he loses, keeping a tally of them to remember. He is particularly haunted by the death of William on Mt. Eternal. And he is frantically researching to find a way to prevent MC’s life from ceasing as well. Additionally, Zayne has an underlying anxiety of protecting MC from himself, and he seems to be a ticking time bomb with whatever is going on with his Evol.

Dawnbreaker Zayne ends life after life rather than allowing these people to devolve into monsters. However, he longs for Doctor Zayne's life, where he could save others instead of simply putting them out of their misery.

Meanwhile, Myth Zayne has watched MC die again and again and again, failing to save her each time, until he finally breaks the loop, sacrificing his life for hers.

Or somewhere they could start again

Where they would never be the same

Here we come to Xavier. He and MC fell in love when they were young (comparatively), but it quickly ended in tragedy. When he is reunited with her in his myth, it looks at first like they might have a chance of being together this time. But then he learns the truth behind Philos, Wanderers, and MC’s connection to it all, and all his focus and energy goes into saving her, rather than their relationship. Indeed, even in Anecdote 3, Xavier sacrifices his precious remaining time with her in a desperate bid to find a way to save her life.

This appears to be true in the Main Story as well. Rather than prioritizing a relationship with you, he is trying to find a way to save you, both current you and the Queen he left behind on Philos. If only there were a way to break from this cycle. To start from the beginning, without the fighting, heartache, and loss, and just be together. Where he didn't have to say goodbye to her in a desperate bid to keep her alive.

Where rains everyday

Fain they would stay

This takes us back to Rafayel. Rafayel loves the rain, forgoing umbrellas to enjoy being soaked. And deserts, such as the Golden Sands, desperately need rain. So where is a place where the rains would be glad to stay? Where water is abundant, life giving, and free, rather than hoarded, trapped, and closely guarded? Somewhere the Lemurians can live freely without being hunted or enslaved? Where MC is not trapped in a fancy cage to be used as a battery for a whole planet?

“Fain they would stay” also goes back to Zayne in the video. Where is somewhere that he and MC can stay together, where he doesn't feel the need to pull away to keep her safe? Where they aren't pulled apart by divine or cosmic forces?

Following this is an instrumental section where we see the Deepspace Tunnel, then Mt. Eternal (Zayne), the coast of Hat Island (Rafayel), and Tracback II (Xavier).

Some forsake longevity

Then fading to dust

Some fall for eternal sleep

Their eulogies turn into gleaming stars

During this segment, there is a galaxy in the background that slowly grows into the distinct shape of an eye. (Such as the eye MC sees outside her window, the eyes of the drones around the city, the red eyes of the raven in the forest, the eye of Astra given to Zayne so he could see through time.)

And now we come full circle. We started with those wanting longevity rather than becoming dust, but here we come to those willing to give up their longevity to fade to dust. Similarly, we started with those longing for eternal sleep and eulogies in the stars, and here we have those who fall into that eternal sleep, and their eulogies are in fact etched into the stars.

I think all of this is an indication of how all three of these men, Rafayel, Zayne, and Xavier, are willing to give to their lives, their longevity, their immortality, for MC. And their heroic sacrifices are of the sort that are etched into the very stars, like those mythological heroes of ancient times.

Will they meet in stars again

Or gone with the wind

We see Xavier interacting with what appears to be a wrecked Traceback II or similar machinery. We see Zayne at Mt. Eternal under an aurora, either freezing or excavating something (a protocore?) buried in the ice there. And we see Rafayel working on his painting that seems to depict a mermaid tale in an underwater city, then he vanishes, leaving the painting covered in a bloody red.

These are the final scenes for these characters at the end of chapter 8.

Meeting in the stars seems particularly connected to Xavier, as he has a consistent star theme throughout his stories. Connecting to the earlier idea of constellations and mythological heroes, there are a number of versions of loved ones who could not meet/reunite on Earth, but were able to find each other as stars (i.e. Gemini, Vega and Altair, Andromeda and Perseus (less tragic), and some others too, I think.)

What I find particularly interesting is the reference to the wind. In the prologue of the Main Story, the voice on the radio tells us the winds are at 5 km/hr. In the epilogue of Chapter 8, the radio voice says the winds are at 7 k/m. In both the epilogue and the song, the mention of wind coincides with wind blowing through Rafayel's house as he works on his painting and then vanishes. Gone with the wind. Leaving a bloody sea behind.

Give me your thoughts, corrections, additions, what-have-you in the comments or PM me!

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #xavier #zayne #lads rafayel #lads #lads xavier #lads zayne #l&ds rafayel #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds zayne

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gtsdreamer2 · 2 months

Text

Beach Gate

April 12th. The day they told everyone to stay out of the water. It was all over the news for weeks. They were releasing a small amount of radiation waste into the ocean. Scientists ran hundreds of simulations about how the water would be safe just one day after the release. Something about dispersement and currents. What they hadn't calculated were the hungry organisms in the water that would feed on the radiation and mutate.

Sebast was relaxing in his chair on the beach. He was on holiday and figured a lazy afternoon at the beach would be the best use for the beautiful day that it was. The beach was moderately crowded, but it was a school day, so it was mostly adults relaxing and enjoyimg the water. Sebast was reading the daily paper, but couldn't help but steal glances at all of the beautiful bikini-clad women that he was fortunate to be surrounded by on this clear, sunny day. He started to dose off while reading the article about a strange algal bloom that scientists were only just starting to study. As he slept, the water all along the shore suddenly began to glow a dark purple as the irradiated algae began to flood in. Woman and men alike were quickly covered in the bloom. As the beach goers exited the shimmering sea, two things became apparent. Firstly, the algae seemed to slip and slide off the men and children before receding back into the ocean. Secondly, the purple globs seemed to congregate and cover only the women, sticking to them and binding to their skin. At first they tried their best to remove the unwelcome algae, but as the masses of purple microfauna began to completely coat the women, their demeanor quickly changed from panic to pleasure.

Sebast awoke, startled as the screams turned to moans around him. Looking to the woman closest to him, he could only watch in fascination as she spasmed on the ground. Mashing her hands over her body, she forcefully massaged the purple goop against her skin. Slowly the algae was being absorbed into her and the irradiated creatures caused her body to swell and grow, which only seemed to fuel her pleasure.

"Fuck, this feels amazing!" She cried out, quickly breaking free of her inadequate clothing. All around him similar situations were playing out. The women began to surge in size at varying paces depending on how much algae they had been in contact with. Some women quickly realized this and ran back into the ocean, scooping up massive handfuls of the creatures and lathering them onto themselves. As the women on the beach began to only break the ten foot mark, those in the sea were quickly doubling and tripling that as their increased volume gave the algae more space to bind to.

Sebast watched as a hierarchy quickly formed. The massive women in the ocean were now big enough to block the much smaller women from growing any larger. This led to the woman that was closest to him coming up to him with a children's pail. She towered above him while she batted her long lashes. "Um, could you take this into the water and bring me more of that purple stuff? I want to be bigger and I promise I'll give you a big reward!" She pressed her chest together as she stuck out both her arms to hand Sebast the pail. He eagerly took it and waited for an opportunity. As one of the monstrously large women in the water started fighting over resources with another one, he made a dash for the shoreline, quickly scooping up a bucket's worth of algae. One of the titanesses watched playfully as Sebast delivered the pail. The woman eagerly dumped it over herself and rubbed it into her skin, quickly gaining a meager two feet in height. "I'll never catch up to those goddesses at this rate. Thanks anyway sweetie." She said, kissing him on the cheek.

The biggest of the sea queens laughed at the mini-giantess's attempt to gain some size. "That was pathetic." She taunted. "Watch and learn." The tide was forced outward as the kaiju sized woman lowered herself into the sea, leaving only her nose above the waterline. Suddenly she opened her mouth and sucked in hundreds of gallons of seawater and all the algae with it. Great volumes of purple water filled her cheeks as she gained another hundred feet in only a few moments. She moaned through her closed mouth, careful not to lose any growth fuel until it had all been absorbed into her. When her growth finally slowed, she sprayed clear water at all the onlookers that were now even further dwarfed by her.

"What a rush!" She boomed, her voice resonating for miles against the tiny eardrums it came across. At her new size, she had no trouble throwing the closest women to her size out onto the beach. "This is all mine!" She roared, throwing her arms out and scooping miles of purple onto her skin, which rose above the water higher and higher. She groped her massive chest and rubbed herself all over in a display of pure carnal dominance. Sebast just watched in awe as the women that were still much larger than him cowered before this ascending goddess. He turned to the one who he had helped grow and grabbed her hand. "Let's get out of here before she crushes us all!" He said, showing her another pail full of algae. She giggled before lifting him up and scurrying off somewhere safer.

#gts #giantess #size kink #sizetumblr #macro #size difference #minigiantess #mega giantess #growth #g/t writing #follower request

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nomercymaster11 · 2 months

Text

Silent Longings (Chapter 3)

@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO

WC: 3,381 / Law x afab!reader / continuation of Two-way dilemma (Chapter 2)

A/N: Apologies for the delayed update! I had to discard the original idea for this chapter as I aim to avoid extending the series excessively.

DAY 0

The scene unfolds within the cramped confines of the Polar Tang. The air is thick with a mixture of anticipation and tension as the crew gathers for a crucial meeting. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the metal walls, accentuating the seriousness of their situation.

Law sits at the head of a makeshift table, his expression stoic and unwavering. His voice cuts through the silence with authority as he addresses Bepo, his first mate, with a stern tone.

"How long before we could reach the next island?" he demands, his eyes fixed on the map spread out before them.

Bepo studies the map intently before offering his assessment. "I could say, less than a week," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Penguin steps forward, laying out the blueprint of the Polar Tang with a sense of urgency. He points to the damaged section of the submarine, where the sea monster had struck them just the other day. His words are measured, each one emphasizing the gravity of their predicament.

"Emergency repairs were implemented," Penguin explains, his tone grave. “However, because of the impact, we are unable to dive deep into the ocean for the time being.”

Shachi adds to the mounting list of concerns, reporting on their dwindling supplies with a sense of grim inevitability.

"Our supplies are running low as well," he interjects, his voice tinged with worry. "I estimate they could last right before we could reach the next island."

Law listens intently, his mind already racing with plans and contingencies calculating their next move. He brushes his chin thoughtfully with his right hand, a gesture that belies the weight of his responsibilities as captain. Nodding in understanding, he acknowledges the reports with a silent resolve.

"Anything else to address?" he asks the crew, his gaze sweeping over each member in turn. After a tense moment of silence, Law takes charge, rolling out different duties to each crewmate with a sense of purpose. With the meeting adjourned, the crew disperses, each member focused on their assigned tasks as they prepare to face the challenges that lie ahead.

Law's sigh reverberated in the quiet room; a heavy exhale laden with the weight of their precarious situation. As he sat at the edge of the table, the coin in his hand danced with the flicker of his thoughts. The room seemed to close in around him, the silence thickening with every passing moment.

“I hope we won't find ourselves on the Navy's radar.” He mused quietly to himself. His mind already preoccupied with the myriad dangers that lurk on the horizon.

Lost in his thoughts, Law was startled when you entered the room. Your presence was unexpected, a break in the solitude he had grown accustomed to. For a fleeting moment, your eyes met his, a silent exchange of acknowledgment before you looked away.

"I'm on cleaning duty today," you announced, your voice cutting through the silence like a lifeline. Law's gaze lingered on you; his scrutiny almost recognizable.

"You're not taking additional duties from anyone, are you?" he asked, his tone laced with a knowing edge that sent a chill down your spine. How did he know? The question hung in the air, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"No, I won't do that again," you replied, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. There was no point in hiding the truth from him, not when he already knew. You busied yourself with tidying the scattered maps and blueprints, a feeble attempt to distract yourself from his penetrating gaze.

"How are you now?" Law's question caught you off guard, his concern genuine and unexpected. Your heart fluttered in response, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.

"I feel better now. Thank you for the other day," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Law moves closer, his steps measured and deliberate, prompting a flicker of apprehension within you. You brace yourself, expecting the unexpected, only to be caught off guard as his hand touches your forehead and gently tugging the skin below your eye with his thumb assessing your well-being with clinical precision.

Meeting his gaze, you find yourself caught in the intensity of his scrutiny. His actions, though gentle, carry a weight of concern that resonates deep within you, prompting a surge of conflicting emotions.

"Let me take those." Law's offer is accompanied by a subtle brush of his hand against yours, a fleeting touch that make your heart flutter.

"You're also relieved of your duties for today." His statement is firm, yet beneath the surface lies a genuine desire to ensure your well-being.

"Captain! I told you I'm fine!" You protest, your voice tinged with frustration and defiance, yet it's clear that your resolve is beginning to waver.

"You look pale. Are you going to disobey the doctor's orders too?" Law's question cuts through your protests like a surgeon's scalpel, leaving you momentarily speechless. In his words, there's a blend of concern and authority, a reminder of his role not just as your captain but also as the doctor of the ship.

Faced with his unwavering gaze, you feel a sense of resignation wash over you, the weight of his concern impossible to ignore. In that moment, you realize that resistance is futile, and with a resigned sigh, you reluctantly concede defeat.

With the room finally tidied, Law motioned for you to follow him, his demeanor calm and composed. Unease gnawed at the edges of your consciousness as you trailed behind him, the weight of his sudden kindness lingering like a shadow.

Stopping at his quarters, Law disappeared momentarily before returning with a handful of medicines. He explained their purpose and dosage with the precision of a seasoned doctor.

As he handed you the medicines, a flicker of hope ignited within you, only to be extinguished by the harsh reality of his rejection. He was your captain, your mentor, and nothing more. With a heavy heart, you resigned yourself to your fate. Despite his kindness, you reminded yourself not to read too much into his actions, knowing all too well the boundaries that had been set between you.

Leaving his quarters, the weight of unspoken emotions hung heavy in the air, leaving you to grapple with the conflicting feelings stirred by Law's unexpected care and your own guarded heart. You understood that his kindness was merely a duty, not a sign of affection.

DAY 2

Feeling rejuvenated by the restorative effects of the medicine Law had provided, you greet the day with newfound energy.

Do I still look sick? You stand before the mirror; you notice a lingering hint of paleness in your complexion. With a deft hand, you apply a touch of blush and lipstick, hoping to mask the telltale signs of your weakened state.

Glancing out the window, you're greeted by the sight of a school of fish gracefully swimming past, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tones of the submarine's interior. The muffled voices and footsteps outside your door pull you from your reverie, prompting you to hastily tie your hair back before stepping into the hallway.

There, you find Penguin and Shachi, each carrying buckets and fishing rods, their faces alight with anticipation.

"Hi, <y/n>!" Shachi calls out, waving enthusiastically as you approach.

"Wanna join us?" Penguin chimes in, his smile warm and inviting.

You nod eagerly, grateful for the chance to spend time with your crewmates and catch some fresh food for the journey ahead. United in camaraderie, you stride alongside them, anticipation of adventure gleaming in your eyes as you set sail for another day on the boundless ocean.

Stepping onto the submarine's deck, you're greeted by the soothing embrace of the ocean breeze, the salty air filling your lungs and rejuvenating your spirit. As you approach Bepo, you can't help but marvel at the sight of him effortlessly reeling in yet another fish, the creature flipping and flopping on the fishing rod in a desperate bid for freedom.

"The cooler is almost full, Bepo!" you exclaim, genuinely impressed by the bounty he's managed to capture.

"Someone's having a feast tonight!" Shachi interjects with a mischievous grin, his playful jab aimed at Bepo's undeniable love for fish. A chorus of laughter fills the air as you join in the lighthearted banter, the camaraderie of the moment washing away any lingering traces of worry or doubt.

Penguin extends the fishing rod towards you, his expression eager as he offers to teach you the art of angling.

"Do you know how to use it?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

"I'm afraid not," you admit with a nervous smile, feeling a pang of embarrassment at your lack of expertise.

Without hesitation, Penguin steps forward to demonstrate, guiding you through the process with patience and encouragement. You watch intently as he explains each step, nodding along in understanding as you prepare to cast your line into the depths below.

"Here goes nothing!" you declare with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, casting the reel with a flick of your wrist. Your heart races as you wait with bated breath, the anticipation building with each passing moment.

Before long, you feel a gentle tug on the line, signaling that you've hooked your first catch. With a surge of adrenaline, you begin to reel in your prize, a triumphant grin spreading across your face as you hold up the fish for Penguin to see.

"Look, Penguin!" you exclaim, your voice filled with pride as you display your achievement.

Penguin's reaction is a mix of surprise and delight, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that sends a flutter of butterflies through your stomach.

"Penguin?" you inquire, noticing the slight flush that colors his cheeks.

"You're doing great!" he assures you with a smile, his attempt to conceal his emotions only serving to endear him to you even more.

“Let me know if you need help.” Penguin offered to give you some space on the other side of the ship. You nod eagerly, feeling a newfound sense of confidence lifting your spirits as you resume fishing with renewed determination. With each cast of your line, you feel a deep connection to the expansive and enigmatic world beneath the surface, grateful for the chance to explore its wonders alongside your crewmates.

You cast your bait once more, anticipation tingles through your veins, mingling with the thrill of the hunt. However, this time, the wait seems to stretch on longer than before, prompting a furrow of confusion to crease your brow. Sensing something amiss, you glance down into the depths of the ocean, your eyes scanning the shimmering expanse for any sign of movement.

Suddenly, a gentle tug on your rod jolts you back to attention, followed by a powerful, relentless pull that sends the reel into a frenzy. With a gasp of surprise, you struggle to maintain your grip as the unseen behemoth beneath the waves puts up a fierce fight, its strength evident in the strain it exerts on the line.

"This is a big one!" you exclaim, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you brace yourself for the battle ahead. With each tug of the rod, you can feel the fish's raw power, its determination matched only by your own resolve to emerge victorious in this exhilarating duel of strength and willpower.

With every ounce of strength you possess, you grapple with the fishing rod, your muscles straining against the relentless pull of the unseen adversary below. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you struggle to gain the upper hand, your determination matched only by the stubborn resilience of the creature on the other end of the line.

"Why. Can't. You. Just. Give. UP!!!" you grit out through clenched teeth, your frustration boiling over into a fierce battle cry as you pour every ounce of your being into the struggle.

Your foot finds purchase on the rail, anchoring you in place as you muster all your strength for one final pull. But despite your best efforts, the fish proves to be a formidable opponent, its strength far surpassing your own.

With a forceful tug, you lose your balance, teetering dangerously on the edge of the deck as gravity threatens to claim you. But before you can plummet into the churning waters below, a strong arm wraps around your torso, pulling you back from the brink with a jolt.

Your back collides with the solid warmth of Law's chest, his presence a stabilizing force amid chaos. You feel a rush of relief flood through you as his touch grounds you, his left arm seamlessly intertwining with yours as he takes charge of the rod.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern as he releases his hold on you, his attention focused solely on the immediate job helping out with catching the elusive fish.

You draw in a ragged breath, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins.

"Yes," you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper as you watch in awe as Law assumes control, his expertise evident in the confident ease.

As you stand side by side, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you, grateful for the unwavering support of the man who stands beside you. You can't help but feel the surge of admiration for him.

////////

As Penguin rushes to your aid, his heart pounding in his chest, he finds himself frozen in place at the sight of you enveloped in Law's embrace. A knot forms in his stomach, a mixture of concern and uncertainty swirling within him as he watches from a distance, waiting for the opportune moment to intervene.

As Law releases you, Penguin steps forward, his expression a mask of concern as he moves to stand beside you. Shachi and Bepo follow suit, their eyes wide with astonishment at the spectacle unfolding before them.

"What happened?" Penguin inquires, his voice laced with worry as he surveys the scene before him.

With each passing moment, the tension mounts as Law continues to battle against the powerful sea creature, his movements precise and calculated as he strives to overcome the obstacle in front of him. And as the struggle reaches its climax, you find yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait with bated breath for the moment of victory.

The surface of the water erupts in a tumultuous display of raw power, the massive fish that had eluded you moments before breaching the surface with a deafening roar. Gasps of awe escape the lips of the onlookers as they bear witness to the sheer size and strength of the creature, their senses overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of its presence.

But the awe is short-lived as an even larger sea creature emerges from the depths, its colossal form eclipsing everything in its wake. With a mighty crash, it engulfs the elusive fish whole, sending shockwaves rippling through the water, making the submarine rock precariously.

"Shit!" Shachi curses under his breath, his eyes wide with fear as he watches the colossal creature disappear back into the depths from whence it came.

With a sense of urgency, you and your companions waste no time in making your way to the safety of the ship's main entrance, the adrenaline-fueled rush of fear propelling you forward as you seek refuge from the unpredictable chaos of the ocean.

"Keep watch and be ready to act at a moment's notice." Law steps forward, his voice steady and commanding. His hand already on the hilt of his sword. The crew nods in agreement, their resolve strengthened by Law's unwavering leadership.

As the moments tick by intense anticipation, the crew holds their breath, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the colossal sea creature that had sent shockwaves through their midst. With each passing second, the tension mounts, the air thick with uncertainty as they brace themselves for whatever may come.

But as the minutes stretch into eternity, the ocean remains eerily calm, its surface undisturbed by the presence of the elusive behemoth. A collective sigh of relief escapes from the lips of the crew, the tension slowly dissipating as they realize that the danger has passed, at least for now.

The silence is broken by the sound of your laughter, the unexpected release of tension sparking a wave of amusement that washes over you and your companions alike. Your laughter rings out across the deck, a melodic symphony of relief and nervous energy that fills the air with warmth and camaraderie.

Law's gaze softens as he turns to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. In that moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of lightheartedness and joy at the sight of your infectious laughter.

"I'm sorry! I just can't!" you gasp between fits of laughter, wiping the tears from your eyes as you struggle to regain your composure.

A smile spreads across Penguin's face as he watches you, his own amusement mirroring yours.

"You sure had fun!" he remarks, his voice warm with affection as he joins in the chorus of laughter that echoes across the deck.

/////////

As you and the rest of the crew gather around the coolers filled with the day's bounty, Bepo's eyes sparkle with delight at the sight of the freshly caught fish, his enthusiasm infectious as he eagerly examines each specimen with childlike wonder.

"It's a shame we weren't able to catch the big fish earlier," you remark with a hint of disappointment, a wistful sigh escaping your lips as you glance at the smaller catches nestled within the cool confines of the containers.

"Haha! At least we don't have to deal with that sea creature. You hooked its prey!" Penguin chimes in with a laugh, his playful tone easing the tension and drawing a chuckle from the rest of the crew. Absentmindedly, he places his left arm around your shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze that sends a warm flutter through your chest.

"It's not my fault though!" you protest with a playful bump of your elbow, the camaraderie of the moment dispelling any lingering traces of unease.

Unbeknownst to you, Law watches from a distance, his expression unreadable as he observes the interaction between you and Penguin. A flicker of something crosses his features, too fleeting to decipher. He grips his sword tightly, a silent sentinel standing watch over the scene before him.

For a moment, he considers intervening, of asserting his presence and reclaiming your attention. But the weight of his responsibilities as captain holds him back, anchoring him in place like an invisible tether.

In the end, he knows that now is not the time nor the place for such confrontations. With a sigh of resignation, Law turns away, his footsteps silent against the metal deck as he retreats back inside the submarine, unnoticed by the crew.

Still on the deck, you contemplate the portions to be set aside for future consumption and plan out the evening's dinner menu, various fish recipes dance through your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last.

"Let's cook grilled fish!" Bepo exclaims, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "It's the captain's favorite too," he adds, a note of excitement in his tone.

"Ok! then that's settled!" you reply with a smile, your enthusiasm matching his own as you eagerly agree to his suggestion. You turn around to share the news with the rest of the crew, your smile faltering slightly as you realize that Law is nowhere to be found.

For a moment, a pang of disappointment washes over you, the absence of Law's familiar presence casting a shadow over the excitement of the evening.

Why am I even looking for him? you wonder to yourself, shaking off the fleeting sense of longing as you focus on your task. With a renewed sense of purpose, you join the rest of the crew in preparing for the evening's festivities, determined to make the most of the time you have together, even in Law's absence.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3.5

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #law one piece #heart pirates #law x you #bepo one piece #law x reader #law x female reader #law x y/n #shachi one piece #penguin one piece #polar tang

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comatosebunny09 · 2 months

Text

firestarter [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, erotica, mild angst warning(s): mutual pining, explicit language, female reader, pet names summary: “you’re a shitty liar, you know that?” leon rasps against your lips. etches a sluggish triangle between your mouth and eyes, his breath fanning across your cheeks, turning your brain into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. the hand at your throat doesn’t help matters, squeezing with enough pressure to turn your lungs to cinder. music inspo: champagne cool - jackson wang spin bout u - drake & 21 savage notes: part 2 to this. thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoy! ❤️❤️❤️

It’s a rhythmic tapping that draws you from your catnap.

Knocking that hauls you from the softness of your couch, the news channel droning in the background as you blink away the fog. The floor is icy beneath your feet while you pad over to your front door to answer it. Not really thinking, forgoing the peephole to throw it open.

Sunlight filters in, blinding like a flashbang. You squint against its brilliance, your vision slowly wading through shapes and colors. And if you weren’t already awake before …

“Hey, stranger,” Leon Kennedy drawls from the threshold, tone brassy as if he’s just awoken himself. You feel it in your chest. Curling around you like smoke, weakening your knees.

He bears a youthful smile while he leans against the doorframe in an easy slouch, gazing down at you with such fondness. Clad in grey joggers and a black tee that does little to disguise the power of his body, a slither of abdomen peeking from beneath.

Your lids flutter, dispelling the final vestiges of sleep. Mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, throat growing dry. Your arms fall listlessly at your sides, your voice turning to ash.

He takes your silence as a welcome. Wears a somewhat guilty expression as he holds up a small, white bag, condensation beading inside. “Brought Chinese,” Leon offers, shaking it for good measure. A peace offering more than a greeting. Surprisingly good-natured, considering you’ve dodged him since you returned from your mission a week ago.

You step aside, completely on autopilot. Still dumbfounded as your partner maneuvers past you into your apartment, carrying the scent of ocean waves and teakwood with him. You flinch at the chaste kiss he presses to your cheek. At the graze of a callused palm on your hip, searing you through the fabric of your sweats.

Gaze fixated on the rail in front of your apartment, your lips twitch into a sardonic smile. Least he has food, you inwardly snort, slowly closing the door. Wait for a few beats with your head bowed and your hands frozen on the lock, preparing yourself for the unavoidable.

You square your shoulders with a sigh, trailing after his shadow towards your living room.

But, it’s surprisingly easy to fall back into tempo with him.

With you both sinking into the couch, your legs stretched across his lap. Large hands rubbing your feet, a ghostly smile rounding his lips when you giggle and squeal as he tickles them every so often. Feel at ease when he kneads the muscles of your calves. A softness to his ministrations like he’s missed this—missed you. And you catch him watching you in your peripheral as if he wants to say something. Yet, neither of you wants to break up the monotony of the moment.

Takeout lies partially eaten on your coffee table. Drinks half full. The T.V. flickers mindlessly over your bodies, the only source of light permeating the darkness of your home. Your attention is elsewhere, dispersed amongst the clouds as you chew on your lip.

Sure, you’re still a little rigid. Still guarded after you bared your thoughts. The dreams haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve grown in intensity. More vivid, painted across the walls of your hallway, floors, bedroom, the fucking bathroom …

Warmth inhabits your cheeks at the memory. You slap a hand over your face, a muted groan burbling from your throat. You’ve had nothing but time to relive your fantasies, having taken a week off following your reconnaissance mission. Sparingly spoke to the object of your desires, your texts and phone calls brief. Made room for good mornings and good nights, fearing anything longer would result in your partner breaking off whatever this is.

His hand sears your wrist, slowly drawing it away from your mouth. “You alright?” Leon cautions, wariness dwelling in his timbre.

You nod with your stomach in knots and your heart on your sleeves. Try to ignore how his grip on you lingers and his thumb skates placatingly over the veins of your hand.

“Hey,” he husks. Insistent as ever, tugging you closer toward the safety of his body. An arm slings around your shoulders, nimble fingers creeping under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. “Hey, talk to me.” His proximity makes your head spin. The calmness of his voice squeezes something in your chest. You’re finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. And you’re looking at his mouth without thinking, entranced by how the delicate flesh trembles and parts with each breath. “What’s on your mind?”

You shake your head dismissively, averting your gaze to the side. “N-nothing.” A lie as obvious as the palpable tension between you, and he fucking knows it. He seizes your jaw again, leveling his steely blues with you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” No. Not really. Because all you’ve wanted to do since he walked through your door was peel his shirt from his shoulders and sit on his—

His chuckle, husky and rich like chocolate, breaks through the swell of lustful thoughts. “You’re a shitty liar, you know that?” Leon says, etching a sluggish triangle between your mouth and hooded lids.

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy smut #leon x reader smut #resident evil 4 x reader #re4 x reader #kindle series

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thef1diary · 5 months

Note

moving along by 5sos, charles leclerc, angst?? ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Thinking ‘Bout You | C. Leclerc

Summary: you and Charles lived in the same building, so it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did seeing you again after breaking up.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak.

Pairing: charles x ex!fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

Charles sighed, turning the alarm off before covering his face with the blanket as he tried to get some more sleep.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He pulled it off as soon it as got too suffocating, and begrudgingly looked to the empty side of the bed.

It had been empty for far too long, a few weeks went by without it being occupied by you.

He turned onto his stomach, reaching his hand out to graze the bedsheet on the other side. He grabbed the pillow you used to sleep on and brought it close to his face.

He could still smell the faint scent of your shampoo even after washing it once. Inhaling sharply, he threw the pillow off the bed before groaning.

As he closed his eyes, he was disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing. He knew it wasn't you, but a small part of him hoped that you'd call.

It was his trainer, asking if he had followed his morning routine but Charles easily lied and said he followed every step but in reality he was still in bed.

His trainer sighed, knowing how difficult it was dealing with Charles after his breakup. Usually it wasn't like this, but you weren't just anyone, you were his everything.

Knowing that if he stayed in the comfort of his sheets, he'd only reminisce the memories he made with you, so he decided to finally get up.

Have you been eating breakfast alone like me?

He wandered to the kitchen after freshening up but it didn't change his appearance much. The dark bags underneath his eyes along with the small frown that made its way to his face permanently remained the same.

He remembered how you used to stand in the kitchen, wearing one of his shirts that you accidentally stole, making breakfast that was definitely not approved by his trainer.

If he stared any longer at the empty space, his mind would play tricks on him and conjure up a dream that looked too real.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He closed his eyes and rubbed them, ensuring that he wouldn't hallucinate your presence. Maybe, it was because of the lack of sleep he's been getting lately.

He had no one to blame but himself, as he had gotten used to you too quickly and it would take a while before those habits would start to disperse.

With you, even something as mundane as making breakfast was the best start to Charles' morning, but now it's the beginning to the worst days.

As he walked over to the fridge to grab some eggs, he paused, shaking his head. "Fuck this,"

He chose to grab a fruit instead so at least he had some proper nutrients and wouldn't be lectured on his eating habits.

Is it bad that I'm hoping that you're broken?

He made his way onto the sofa, in a half sitting half lying down position. He tossed his apple in the air before catching it, pretending as if it were a ball.

There were many thoughts haunting his mind, but only one stuck out to him the most. He wondered how you were, better or worse.

He kind of hoped that you were in a similar position as him, thinking of him as much as he thought of you.

Is it bad that I'm wishing you're still broken?

This had become his routine a few days after he had broken up with you, once the realization set in that you were no longer someone he'd be seeing everyday.

The first few days, his friends had taken him out to enjoy the 'single life', whatever that meant. But he did enjoy it. There was no one waiting at home for him and for some reason he liked that because he wasn't obliged to return at a reasonable time.

That you haven't found fish in the ocean

However, once he began waking up alone, missing out on the morning kisses and hugs, he realized that he had let you go.

His phone rang again, but this time he didn't even bother looking at who was calling, knowing who it'd be based on the time.

Everyday, Pierre would call at the same time just to check up on him. But by now, their conversations were so bland because he barely put effort into his responses.

He only wanted to be left alone, but ironically, he never wanted to know what it was like to be alone without you.

Is it bad? So bad

He had no idea how you were doing. But if he did, he might have felt a little better knowing he wasn't the only one in a bad mood following the breakup.

While you didn't look as bad as he did, you felt just as worse. You had already taken a few days off of work, but it was more than enough time spent sulking over him.

Truth is, you had understood the situation and accepted it better than he had. Since it wasn't exactly a mutual breakup, there was nothing you could've done to convince him otherwise.

He had already made up his mind.

While you thought he had fallen out of love with you, he was blaming himself for letting the love of his life walk away.

Is it weird that I'm drunk and on my sofa?

Charles' gaze fixated on the cabinet that held a few bottles of both yours and his choice of alcohol. He wasn't a day drinker—in fact he rarely drank unless he was celebrating—but if anyone asked, he would deny it. However, lately he had been grabbing a bottle without caring of the time.

He played some music, connecting to the speaker that you gifted him. He didn't have the heart to get rid of the things you had forgotten to take with you.

Opening the cabinet he grabbed a bottle without looking but he bypassed the glass, choosing to drink straight from the bottle.

As he spent time on his phone, which was something he rarely did, he didn't notice how much alcohol he was consuming.

Is it weird that I'm naked on my sofa?

As he was about to put his phone away, he got a notification from Instagram. When you began dating, he had turned on notifications for your account whenever you posted something. After all, he wanted to be the first to like your posts, even if he'd seen the image before you posted it because you always asked for his opinion.

Without thinking twice, he tapped on it, bringing your latest story on his screen.

It was a simple photo of the city, a view you had from your office but the words you added with the photo piqued his interest.

You had finished your long work day which made Charles check the time. He had sat on the couch sulking the entire day.

He knew you so well that he was certain you had posted the photo a few minutes after you had taken it. It was a habit that Charles told you to change, especially because he was concerned for your safety in case something bad happened.

However, right now, he was glad you didn't change, because he knew you were on the way home.

The thing was, you lived in the same building as him but you had moved into his apartment when you were dating.

All alone, damn, I wish I didn't know ya

Charles wanted to see you again, and even living nearby made it impossible due to his constant travels for work.

He stood up, ready to make his way towards the door but he stopped, finally realizing what he was about to do. You were no longer with him, heck, he's the one who ended it, but he was just so desperate to see a glimpse of you again.

You were so, so important to him but now he wished he never knew you because you occupied every thought of his.

Is it weird? So weird

Maybe he should leave the building just so he doesn't come in contact with you. He would have stayed at home, but knowing you were on your way back and living nearby, it became unbearable to stay.

Nodding once, he left his apartment. Although he slightly swayed while walking, he wasn't drunk or at least he'd like to tell himself that.

Once he entered the elevator, he placed his hands behind him on the metal bar while his head rested on the mirror.

I know I'm the stupid one who ended it

The entirety of your relationship flashed through his mind, the good, the bad, even the worst moments that he once thought were a good idea. Like breaking up with you. He laughed at himself as he wondered why on earth he ever thought being away from you was a good idea.

“I want to focus on my career, I don’t want any distractions plus I think we’d be better off without each other.” He recalled his reasons for breaking up.

And now I'm the stupid one regretting it

You were never his distraction, you were his biggest supporter. And fuck, why would he be better off without you, he doesn’t even know why he had to add that sentence.

He reached the ground floor and the doors opened but he was too consumed by his thoughts that he almost forgot to notice.

As he brought his arm out to stop the door from closing, he heard a voice—a very familiar voice.

“Pouvez-vous tenir la porte, s'il vous plaît?” You called out, rushing to enter the elevator, barely making it. (Can you hold the door please?)

I've been thinking about you lots, lately

“Merci,” you called out to the person who held the door open for you. However, you didn’t look up at them yet because you were attempting to grasp onto your bag, a purse, an umbrella and your phone all at once.

It was when Charles whispered your name you looked at him. He was in just as much shock as you, making direct eye contact.

It was too late for him to leave the elevator, it had already began going up to your floor, which was a few levels above his. He could’ve chosen to press the button for his floor, or even the next level to leave the elevator as fast as possible.

Instead, he chose to stay, watching your eyes flick over and away from him quickly, as if you were trying to decide whether to avoid him or not.

However, you chose to indulge in a conversation, especially after smelling the horrible scent of alcohol surrounding him.

Oh, are you moving along?

"Are you drunk?" You asked even though you knew the answer. He was slightly swaying around as the elevator kept going up, but he held on to the bar to stabilize himself.

He almost looked offended at your question, either because you thought so low of him to assume he was drunk or because that was the first question you asked him after your breakup.

"I might've had a drink or two" he decides, unsure whether to tell you the truth. Something he never had to think twice about before.

"You smell like you had the whole bottle, I know you Charles,” you stated, but once you saw Charles wince at your last few words, you felt the same emotions roll through you when you walked out of his apartment for the last time.

Is it wrong if I ask you to come over?

"That's the problem, you know me, so how did you let me tell you to leave?" He countered, shaking his head and wanting to blame you for his mistakes.

"What did you want me to do, stay?" You asked, scoffing when he nodded, “yes"

"I can't, you know that,” you turned away from his burning gaze, or you might just let him back in your life. “Why not? Je t'aime toujours, I can never stop loving you.” (I still love you)

Is it wrong if I tell ya that I love ya?

You were glad that you turned away otherwise he’d see you cracking through your tough exterior. You never imagined that your first meeting would be in an elevator, unplanned.

You watched the numbers on the digital screen go up, only a few more floors until yours. “You were right you know, I think we're better off without each other."

You didn’t want to repeat his words back to him, but since you had turned to look at him, you saw how those words affected him. Just like how it affected you when he first said them.

His eyes widened, his hands gripping the metal bar to ground himself. Out of all the thoughts he had running through his mind, he never thought about what he would feel if you acted the way you did.

He should’ve expected it, but he was too optimistic. Now, his own optimism would be the reason for another heartbreak, perhaps worse this time.

The elevator dinged before the door began opening, and he remained in his spot as you began walking out. His mind screamed at him to say something, anything but you spoke before he could.

“I just want you to know, I’m moving out of here—well out of Monaco. I don’t think I’ll see you again, and I’m hoping you understand and not try to contact me anymore. Goodbye Charles.”

As the doors closed again after you walked out, he felt as if the door to the opportunity of you returning was slammed shut in his face.

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc angst #f1 x reader #f1 angst #thef1diary fic #angst #formula 1 #f1blr

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shubblelive · 9 months

Text

— FRONT ROW

summary : for the first time, you see just how many fans wilbur has in person, and for the first time, you begin to feel like you might not be able to handle it.

genre : angst -> fluff, happy ending

warnings : one or two swearwords, reader gets overwhelmed, they almost break up (but not really i promise)

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, cc!ranboo (mentioned), cc!philza (mentioned), kristen

requested : @gracietaylorsversions Hiii! Ilysm could you maybe write a fic inspired by the song “dark red” by steve lacey, more specifically the part: “only you my girl, only you babe” where the reader gets insecure and jealous but wilbur makes sure to reassure her <333

word count : 1.5K

note : hello angel! now, i personallly hate writing jealousy fics i feel like i can NOT do it well, so i opted to delve more into insecurity than jealousy with this one. i'm so glad you're liking my stuff thank you so much it means the worlds

the room was massive. it was like a warehouse, but with seperate rooms off the main one, and way more people. you were in one of the separate rooms, carpeted and less crowded, a yellow card around your neck with your name written on it suspended by a lanyard.

you weren’t a creator. you didn’t stream or make youtube videos or anything, you hardly even posted on instagram. the only reason you were attending vidcon was because of the man whose arm was wrapped around your shoulder as he chatted avidly to ranboo.

they had a panel later, the first one since the pandemic had started. it had been somewhat of a surprise to you, when wilbur started getting so big as quickly, but you’d always know it was bound to happen. now, three years into your relationship, you were about to see your boyfriend in front of his first live audience.

one of the vidcon crew members arrived in the room as signalled everyone’s attention, everyone in your group falling silent. they’d all be leaving to go on stage soon. you wouldn’t be alone though, phil’s wife would be there in the audience with you.

while wilbur got instructions from the crew member, another producer lead you, kristen, and a few other guests of creators into your seats, and you waited anxiously for your boyfriend to come out.

the two of you had together since 2019. you had helped him move into his streaming office (and subsequently out of his streaming office after getting evicted), and had been there every single step of the way through his streaming career. his fans knew of you. they knew your name and what you looked like, and that you and wilbur had been dating for years, but not much more than that.

you were as supportive of a partner as you physically could be, helping him out as much as you were able to. for his first ever vidcon, you’d been lucky enough to be able to take time off work to go to LA with him, and he’d let you know over and over how grateful he was for it. you’d held his hand across the atlantic ocean and let him go just in time for him to meet his adoring public.

and adoring they were. it had been your first time ever truly seeing your partner’s fans in person aside from the odd chance meeting. this was extremely overwhelming. he stepped out of the wings and made eye contact with you immediately, waving at you subtly as he greeted the rest of the crowd. the featured creator hour went for, predictably, about an hour, and as your boyfriend and his friends left the stage, the audience was left to disperse on their own. you guys had saved seats for this one in advance, so you’d had a producer escort you into them, but this time it was just you and kristen in a sea of hundreds of teenagers.

“excuse me,” a small voice piped up, and you whirled around to see a young girl, no older than fourteen standing nervously behind you. she introduced herself nervously, and told you that she thought you had always seemed lovely, and asked for a photo. kristen took it for her, and she left with a beaming smile on her face as you felt your heart thrash against your ribcage.

there were so many people here, and you were already incredibly overwhelmed by the noise, but now the knowledge that people were perceiving you, even if it was only one fourteen year old girl was just too much to handle. “hey!” you called out to kristen as you both reached the door, having to nearly yell over the noise. “bathroom, i’ll be right back.”

“do you want me to come with you?” her husband would be back in the creator lounge by now, you knew, so you shook your head.

“no, i’ll be alright, you get back to phil. will you tell wilbur where i am though, please?” she nodded at you, and you took off towards the nearest bathroom. it was absolutely packed, so you skipped it and went straight outside to the carpark. it was hot, and you took a swig of your water bottle as you sat down on the concrete, back against the wall of the building. there were still somehow dozens of fans out here, but you didn’t care.

you needed to get better with this stuff. this was wilbur’s job, and you were his partner. if you were going to spend the rest of your life with him, then you’d need to be able to go to things like this and support him.

he had so many people’s eyes on him, and you knew that all he wanted was yours. you couldn’t be there for him in the way you needed to. he deserved better.

the internet was a cruel place. of course you’d seen hate of yourself. you’d seen wilbur shipped with any female friend he came into contact with, and you had always been okay about it. but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if he dated someone from the industry. he was bound to find someone eventually, someone who loved him just as hard as you did and was able to be there to support him.

you weren’t cut out for this. you needed wilbur.

he was beside you. “are you alright? what’s going on?” he was scanning the small scattering of fans around the carpark areas, hoping to find somewhere to get you away from prying eyes. “darling?”

“i’m okay,” your voice shook, and he helped you to your feet. “you should go back inside.”

“i am not going anywhere without you,” he said resolutely, hand securely wrapped around yours.

“i’m such a shit girlfriend,” you tried to laugh, but their were anxious tears forming in your eyes. it was so bright that you had to squint to look at wilbur, who was shielding you from the LA sun. “i’m sorry.”

“what are you talking about?” he asked softly. “you’re not shit, darling. furthest from it, in fact. you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had.”

“i’d hope so considering we’re still dating,” you said quietly. “maybe we shouldn’t be, though.”

wilbur thought he couldn’t feel more anxious after the creator hour. existing in front of such a massive croud of people was something that had never felt real to him, but then he’d looked out into the audience and had seen you, and he knew that after he left he’d be able to pull you into his arms and kiss you, and that you would fix the pounding of his heart. and then he’d stepped back inside the lounge and been met with just kristen, he waited, ten, fifteen minutes, believing you when you’d said you’d gone to the bathroom, before he used the find my friends app on his phone to see where you were. but that sentence made earlier feel like the most calm he had ever felt. “you want to break up?”

his voice quivered, low and deep, and you shook your head frantically. “of course i don’t want to. i was just thinking that…”

“that we should.” he finished flatly. “why?”

his hands were still around yours, but this felt more for his sake than yours now. “i can’t do this, wilbur.” you breathed out. “i can’t do the crowds and the screaming and the hoards of people who know that i exist, i can’t do it.”

wilbur’s face crumpled with relief. “you don’t have to, darling. i promise. from now on, no more events or conventions or panels that you don’t want to go to. please, i love you so much, i’m not gonna lose you over this.”

“but you deserve to have someone there who can do these things!” you argued. “someone who gets it, who understands!”

“i don’t want someone who gets it.” wilbur shot back immediately, silencing you. “i want you. i love you so much, darling. i don’t care if you don’t like the crowds, or if you don’t feel comfortable with me talking about you on stream or posting photos on instagram. none of that means anything to me. the only important thing is you and only you.”

you were almost crying as you kissed him, having to close your eyes instinctively against the sun as his lips pushed against yours, his hands caressing your back comfortingly. “i’m sorry, wil.” you said softly, lips still on his. “i’m being silly.”

“just a little,” he admitted between kisses. “but so am i. i’m just glad you’re here. i love you, silly.”

“i’d say it back but i don’t feel like it anymore.”

he barked out a laugh. “fine! i’m sorry. i love you, darling. my serious girl.”

“that’s somehow worse.” he kissed you to make it up to you, though, so you allowed him to drag you back inside, this time he got a security guard to sneak you in through a back corridor where you were still met with a room full of people who knew your name. except this one had a reserved seat right next to wilbur as you got to watch him live out his dreams, right there in the front row.

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