#she had an orb and she was PONDERING it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

I like your face | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N has had a crush on Matt for years but hid her feelings out of fear. She just didn't expect Matt to feel the same way about her.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I'm so sorry if this sucks 😭😭😭 I wrote it with a huge headache and cramps, so it's probably horrible, I'm really sorry, lovelies ;(

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The sounds of random music and different audio from TikTok echoed through the four walls of Matt's room.

The brunette was lying in the center of his double bed, his torso lightly supported on the headboard, above his fluffy pillow, while his right arm was half raised and supported on the bed by his elbow.

His hand held his phone up tightly while his thumb scrolled through the screen, double-clicking on it every now and then, liking some videos. His left hand was on Y/N's back, who was in her favorite and most comfortable position; on top of Matt.

Y/N had her body lying completely on the boy's body, her chest pressed against his while her legs rested against the mattress and between Matt's open ones. Her head was lying on his left shoulder, right in the crook of his neck, her hair tickling his jaw and chin every time she moved it, sometimes to watch one of the videos, but mostly just to admire his features.

The girl had a huge crush on Matt and that wasn't news to anyone. Although she never talked about it, everyone saw the way she acted around him through her body language - that spoke louder than any words could -, except Matt himself.

But he wasn't the only oblivious one among the two. Although he didn't make his years-long crush on the girl so apparent as she did - even while trying not to -, he liked her just as much.

Y/N watched Matt's varying reactions closely and attentively to each different video, her eyes scanning his features carefully, getting lost in each line of expression. Her pupils carried a glow that only appeared when she looked at him, shining bright.

Her right hand was raised over Matt's cheek, her fingertips lightly caressing his smooth skin, tracing every line she could see, and the ones she couldn't too - she had all of them already memorized and embedded in her mind.

She was completely sure that Matt was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen; every trait and habit of his captivated her, as much as his aura, which was so calm and sincere that it made her want to never leave his side again. Just the thought made her smile like a fool, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed by the brunette.

"Why are you smiling like that, hm? You're not even watching the TikToks." Matt asked, his voice came out slightly hoarse from lack of use and the laziness that hugged his body like a light blanket, caused by the extremely comfortable and warm position.

"Hm? Nothing, I'm just thinking." Y/N smiled shyly, lowering her gaze, suddenly feeling small under the boy's gaze.

"Want to talk about it?" Matt frowned in a mix of curiosity and concern, locking the screen of his phone and throwing it aside, focusing fully on the girl above him.

“I just…" Y/N paused, a sigh escaping her mouth before her teeth caught her bottom lip in a light grip, mentally pondering whether she should answer him truthfully or not.

Matt remained silent, looking at her with a calming gaze, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, passing her security and comfort.

The low, yellow lights of Matt's room illuminated him perfectly, kissing his skin so that it glowed, his most beautiful features standing out, taking the girl's breath away. Without even realizing it, her mouth opened slightly in awe, losing her trail of thoughts as her orbs traveled over the boy's little details.

The way his longs eyelashes caressed his own cheeks every time he blinked made her want to pass her fingers over them, while his roguish smile pulled light wrinkles at the corner of his lips, that seeming to call out for Y/N's lips.

"I just like your face." The whisper escaped her mouth before her mind even processed what she was about to say, the tips of her fingers gently caressing the space between his eyebrows, running down the bridge of his nose slowly.

Her eyes automatically widened in surprise a few seconds after hearing her own voice utter the words she had never before planned to even say out loud, her movements stopping abruptly.

Matt's calming smile turned into an amused one, his blue eyes traveling over the small reactions Y/N's features displayed in response. He slightly lifted his chin up, touching the tip of his nose to the tip of Y/N's fingers, which she had lightly moved away from his skin after getting the shock of reality.

"I mean, I don't like your face- no, wait, I do, it's beautiful for you, every detail fits you perfectly, I just-"

Matt rolled his eyes playfully before slightly lifting his torso, sealing his lips over Y/N's gently, shushing her instantly. A surprised sound escaped the girl's throat, her mind racing at high speed, trying to process what was happening before finally giving in.

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, her right hand - which was previously caressing the skin of Matt's face - traveled to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the curly strands, massaging the area lightly, eliciting a nasal sigh from him.

The brunette's warm tongue caressed her bottom lip momentarily, asking for entrance, which was quickly granted. Their tongues intertwined in an infectious dance.

Y/N's left palm rested on Matt's chest, lifting her upper body slightly, generating more access to the kiss. Matt's hands squeezed her waist, his thumb running under the fabric of her t-shirt, caressing the warm skin of her bare hip gently.

When the air ran out, Matt slowly pulled away, his blue eyes analyzing Y/N's reactions closely. A smile stretched across his cheeks when he saw her eyes still closed, her lips parted as she pushed her chin forward slightly, searching for his touch blindly.

"I like your face too."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

733 notes · View notes

whalesforhands · 3 months

Text

it exists only here

geto suguru holds onto your ghost in the trivial silence of the night.

HBD GETO SUGURU

“Geto-sama, you have an audience with an Amano Kiriko and her father in approximately 30 minutes.”

The cult leader doesn’t say a word, the stalk of pink carnation getting nicked a little too close to its petals for his comfort, his pruning shears threatening the beauty of the flora in his hand.

He thought he had it this time.

Now it’s too short. The osmanthus flowers he had spent so much time intricately placing together will go to waste… Dumb rocks and leaves that took way too long to work in harmony with each other. He sighs, frustration coursing through his tensed arms whilst staring down at the already ruined flower despite the beauty it still retained. It just didn’t fit in well with the image he had in mind. So beautiful, yet so useless now.

Should he just redo it? Amethyst orbs follow the stalk up to where it’s now currently being held up to the hanging lamp light, whiffs of its sweet scent reaching his nose as he glares. He ponders and ponders, his eyes closing to savour the fragrance.

So sweet.

“Tell Amaya-san we’re postponing. I’m busy.” Can’t you see how preoccupied he is with this? It obviously takes precedence over some worthless monkey.

A little more suffering won’t do them any harm.

The silence drags, yet Manami Suda does not break the tense stillness any further, does not even correct her superior on his mispronunciation. What use is there for him to remember a mere monkey’s name?

“Understood, Geto-sama. I will move your meeting back by 40 minutes.” She bows low, her gaze kept towards the ground before she turns on her heel and makes her way out, shiny hair bouncing with every step as she makes it a point to close the door behind her as gently, as silently possible.

It seems that her handsome boss is having one of those days again.

A quiet creak of his door and heel clicks that disappear with distance until they were no more.

It’s now that he realizes he’s alone again, silently staring down at the blush pink of the petals in his hand. He twirls the stalk over and over between his fingers as the silence stretches and stretches. It overwhelms him, his thoughts just a little too loud in the blaring quietude.

“Suguru, you don’t look well.” A warm hand against his forehead, your worried gaze and a soft voice. Touch shifting away and making him nearly chase after your comfort.

(Just for a little longer.)

“Have you been eating properly?” You’re sad, lips downturned into a frown that makes him regret ever looking so gaunt— So weak. He wants to placate you, wants to assure you.

“I’m fine—“

“Nope!” An interruption of an all too boisterous voice, lanky arms immediately hooking around both of you as you’re both pulled towards an all too excited Satoru. “So what say we go out and treat him some good ol’ soba?”

His head is starting to hurt again. A grit of his teeth and shears clattering onto the wooden table, frustrated sigh and slumping of his shoulders to ease this tension within his body. He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to feel so… Bad.

It’s only then that his hands reach for the book that was upon the chabudai he sat at, trembling fingers finally making contact with the old paper, the slightly frayed pages easing the stress in his mind, the roar in his ears.

His fingers would trace well-worn, yellowed pages of an all too old shoujo manga, familiar pages that had a noticeable dent in them from how beloved they were by the previous owner. It takes him back, makes his hands reach into traces of the past. Away from this headache inducing present, away from his pain.

“There you are. I bought those famous Kiyoken shumai—“ He freezes in his tracks, his eyes widening and eyebrows raising in shock and worry when he chanced upon your teary gaze, your expression akin to a deer caught in headlights as you look at him with shiny, gemlike eyes and tears that had already spilled, rolling down your embarrassed cheeks.

He takes only a moment to recover, only silently walking forward to plop the plastic bag onto the dining table, giving you a quick once-over before patting your head, as you squeak in stunned surprise, his hand combing down your hair gently before he turns on his heel, steps heavy, quick and a threatening smile upon his face. He starts cracking his knuckles for good measure, his aura flaring into one of intimidation as he gets ready to beat a certain someone up.

“I’ll kill him.”

“S-Suguru— Wait! It’s not Satoru’s fault!” You’re already up on your feet, running to intercept him and grabbing onto his arm, using all your strength to hold him back as you feel your socked feet start to drag across the floor, his strength uninhibited by your attempt.

An innocent, accusatory lilt of his voice as he stops, turning to face you. “Oh? I don’t feel very merciful today—“

“I was crying because of a manga!” Blurted out with a shameful, humiliated voice, your arms hugging his one to your chest even tighter. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your face burns and burns with growing mortification that makes you want to curl up and die and possibility cry even more.

And that calms him down in an instant.

That memory still makes him chuckle, a hand under his chin as his eyes blink at the imagery formed in his head. Mindless flipping of the pages causes him to land on a scene that’s been bookmarked far too many times. He knows this line by heart.

“Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky—“ You sniffle, cutting yourself off and letting Suguru dab the tears treading down your cheeks as you don’t even try to resist, or even pull away from his thoroughly amused self.

“I-It’s just so romantic, okay…?!”

“Hmm?” His smile only seems to grow wider as he leans forth, handkerchief is abandoned in favour of using his thumb, gently tapping at the tears forming again in the corner of your eyes to tease you. “I wouldn’t really know if you don’t finish, will I?”

“B-but I’ll just cry—“ You quickly press his abandoned handkerchief to your nose, a sorry attempt at trying to drag your expressions away to quell the burning shame of having to face him. “Way more, Suguru…!”

“Cry all you want then.” His hand goes to hold your cheek, settling your face in his hand and chuckling as he pats your head, smiling softly, gently, warmly at the way you’re starting to bawl even harder somehow. “I’ll be here to wipe your tears away for you.”

A lock of his hair flitters in front of him, breaking him out of his nostalgic trance as a breeze blows in, as if caressing the strands with tender curiosity. A hand reaches up to thoughtlessly twirl it, amaranth eyes finally opening to bring himself back to reality.

Should he cut his hair soon?

“Suguru, you cut it?!” Satoru holds the boy’s face in his hands, shaking him back and forth and whining his disappointment. “Whyyyyyy?! How could you do that to our beautiful hair?!”

“Our…? Satoru, last I checked it was attached to my scal—“

“No…”

You’re devastated as you sat behind him, fingers slotted inbetween smooth strands that have now been slashed into shortened locks, trampling on your dreamy imagery of his gorgeous hair, your arms hugging around his waist from behind as your face buries into his shoulder to weep for the loss of his beauty.

“Our pretty hair…”

“…aren’t you both being a little overdramatic?”

He feels his heart shake, an ache that yearned to be eased when he opens his eyes to realize that he’s all alone. No matter how far those memories seemed to be, whenever he closed his eyes… It always seemed to be filled with an image of those precious days.

Steadying himself with a sigh and getting up onto his socked feet, he stretches his arms and lets his joints pop.

He should stop thinking about these things.

——

It’s fun.

Geto Suguru is having fun. A stutter in his chest, a fleeting feel in his heart as he exchanged blows. Different from those other students, so similar to that certain someone. Dodging, parrying, summoning, running, bleeding.

So fast. So purposeful in every hit, so unnatural, so talented.

Okkotsu Yuuta was the perfect sorcerer. A curse technique with so much potential, an aura of budding, endless possibilities. Why, oh, why does he still stand with the lesser beings, the lesser race?

His wooden clogs skid across concrete as he stands his ground, a smirk of condemnation and displeasure evident as he spits out a mouthful of blood and metallic ire.

He’ll show him. Show this boy the disparity of their power, the difference in their leagues of playing field as he wipes the remnants of crimson off his mouth, the stinging bruise upon his cheek from where he was bunched pulsating with an urge to destroy. To conquer.

“Cursed Spirit Manipulation: Supreme Art,” A taunting point of his finger upwards, crazed grin upon his face. Bear witness to his overwhelming strength, to his irrepressible supremacy. He doesn’t need anything else when he’s drunk off of power. “Uzumaki.”

Swirling black and daunting shadows form at his fingertip, echos of screams and damned cries of the beasts he’s consumed billowing within.

“Okkotsu,” His face is in a state of a proud, manic insanity, shivers of lustful victory trembling his bones. “I’m glad I could kill you before you managed to fully wield Orimoto Rika.”

This is it. Geto Suguru’s victory, the beginning of the end for this Jujutsu Society. Once this boy dies, he will absorb the Queen of Curses, he will be strong enough to finally change this wretched world for the better.

Would he be satisfied then? Would he finally feel that he’s avenged—

Okkotsu Yuuta doesn’t say a word, a shining determination in his gaze as his back is turned to his enemy, a tentative hand upon the curse that followed him as he called her name. The name of the girl he had known, had loved all this time.

“Rika.” A small whisper into the cursed being’s supposed ear. “I’ll give you everything,” A breath is taken. “My body, my heart, my soul…”

Geto Suguru wants to feel disgusted at the sight.

“I love you, Rika.”

The light hits the silver of the young boy’s ring, metal glinting and catching the attention of the cult leader who was kind enough to let that poor kid say his final words.

“Thank you for always protecting me.” It’s odd, repulsive, Suguru thinks as his ears catch wind of those sugary sweet lines. How warm those words feel, how they’re said with such a bittersweet mirth, how it’s almost like it resembles your—

“Suguru.” Your voice is quiet, your presence a fading comfort as he barely feels it within this empty room.

He feels a phantom warmth, a non-existent touch lightly caressing his cold, gaunt face. A contact that he doesn’t want to let up as his hands reach up only to feel nothingness and an unbearable lurch of his throat.

An aftertaste weighs heavy on his tongue, like a rag that had been used to wipe up vomit. Ringing in his ears as his nose feels clogged, nigh unbreathable. Does it even matter if he doesn’t reply? Will it matter if he tries to will away that distorted voice of yours?

Geto Suguru sees red, sees looming metal doors, hears the thundering jeers of a cult, hears a scream of your name, feels the building terror and anguish of his heart in full.

Feels like he doesn’t know why you’re here now.

Think, Suguru. Why are you of all people appearing right in this crucial moment? What do you want? What are you trying to do? What are you trying to say?

If you had one thing to say to him right now, what would it be?

“Thank you for falling in love with me.”

A sharp intake of air to snap himself out of it, the odd chorus of Yuuta’s voice and yours mixing and mashing up in his head, his pupils dilating and finally focusing back into the battle at hand. It isn’t like him to lose his focus like this. Isn’t like him to get so distracted by a haunting thought.

“Aren’t you quite the player, Okkotsu Yuuta?” His words end on an annoyed growl, a building temper to supplement the forgotten rage in his heart.

But this is what he wants, isn’t it?

“That’s rude.” Okkotsu Yuuta is deadpan, his face set in a tone of utmost sincerity and seriousness.

“This is true love.”

And Geto Suguru wonders if that’s what went wrong as he gets swallowed by an explosion of pink and white.

——

Geto Suguru thought he would at least go out with more grace. A little more flair, in a burst of Hollow Purple or a deep Red.

But not like this.

Not with his back against an alleyway wall, slid down to the ground in pathetic defeat, not whilst he’s missing an arm, bleeding out and searingly painful.

Not while Gojo Satoru stares him down like that in his final moments.

“You’re late,” He just can’t help the smile on his face that forms as his voice traces those beloved words after far too long. “Satoru.”

An exchange of words, their conversation that took place. From the safety of Suguru’s newfound family, to the battle with Satoru’s students… Suguru realizes that what was once his cold, hardened heart was starting to stir with nostalgia, a flutter in his chest that makes him want to get lost in this conversation for just a bit longer; even if the expression on Satoru’s face was blank, empty.

Even if he never smiled at him anymore.

So he takes his time, drawing out each word and sentence and mindless thought that had been churned into a flitter in his stomach that makes him think that it isn’t so bad to be on the losing end.

That it isn’t so bad that this is his end.

And when all was said and done, it goes silent. Comfortingly so in this bitter atmosphere that makes him forget about the stale iron in his mouth and his defeated heart that had nothing left to hide.

It’s hard to say that Geto Suguru was satisfied just yet.

“Do you… Still think I’m a good person?” It’s sudden, a taboo scab nobody, not even Geto himself had wanted to pick at. A wound that never quite gelled over. But— It’s fine because it’s here. It’s fine because it’s right now. Because these trivial, meaningless conversations are what make him feel whole, make him find meaning amongst all his doubt.

“Yeah.” A pause as the honoured one takes in a breath, the squeezing of his palms into tight fists as his glowing eyes begin to soften to shimmery radiance. “I bet she would still think so too.”

That’s not true. Geto Suguru feels, knows it just cannot be, no matter how much his broken heart yearns to believe it. It’s for that reason that he finally lets out a laugh, eyes turning into crescents to match his satisfied smile.

“I killed tons of innocent people, you know?”

There’s no way you would ever look at him the same way.

“You can go and ask her personally, then.” Gojo Satoru sounds so steady, so confident and brazen with his threat; that it sounds like a consolation to Geto Suguru, that it leaves him in utter disbelief at the man’s faith in him, his belief that a damned person like him would ever get to reunite with the likes of you.

Though, it brings him peace in this moment.

“Maybe I will.” It’s his final reassurance, stemming from a hope that he gets to be together with you once more, a last solace for his painful, aching soul in the silence that follows after.

“It’s disappointing, Satoru.”

His eyes blink as he leans his head back against the grimy wall, letting out a breath to soothe the staggering gnawing at his conscience. “That I couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world anymore.”

Not when it turned out like this.

A beat passes, and yet another as Suguru finally feels his body beginning to crumble, vision starting to blur as he starts to see brightness in his dimming eyes. It’s okay. It’s okay now because—

It’s over.

He sees his beloved squat down, coming down onto this pitiful level to meet eyes with him. What is he—

Sincere blue to fading purple, parting lips that start mouthing words that he didn’t think he deserved to hear. He knows that goodbyes are bitter, that he’ll never be ready enough to hear them.

That he’ll never be able to accept that you’re gone.

Yet, even as it reaches into his ears, he didn’t expect the weight, the pressure that makes the tiniest semblance of regret swirl in his heart, slowly realized into a wish that he could rewind time to hear Satoru’s voice that teeters upon a breaking sorrow once more. Just one more time.

“We’ll meet again, right?”

Geto Suguru can only laugh, letting amusement enshroud his expression as his neck cranes towards the light in which his one and only Gojo Satoru shrouded. It’s so stupid, so in character for someone like him.

“At least curse me a little at the end.”

This is how he wants to go. There’s nothing else he wants to long for now… Not the Queen of Curses, not the utter desire to destroy non-sorcerers, not the bloodthirsty revenge and grudge he held against the Jujutsu system— He just wants to feel at peace from the hands of his other half.

This is it.

“Take care of her until I get there.” Wherever you both end up, his final message and blessing from just Satoru to just Suguru. A responsibility given to him that Gojo hopes comes true. All because he hopes it’s peaceful where you both were, that it relieves you both of the hope that made you hurt more.

Suguru’s parting smile is bittersweet, a blush upon his face as enchanting purple finally hide away, finally put to rest with the last of his cursed energy dissipating. A ‘goodbye’ is something he’s no good at, a ‘see you later’ far too unfulfilling. He wishes he could find kinder words as he lets his heart speak his truth, breathed out in a whisper so tender.

“Don’t be late again, Satoru.”

previous next

Notes:

Pink carnations: I’ll never forget you.

Osmanthus flowers: True love.

‘Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky, if you’re with me then everything’s alright.’ - Everything’s Alright from To the Moon (nvy’s favourite game)

#dyf au #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk angst #geto angst

203 notes · View notes

inactivewattpadauthor · 2 months

Text

Raiden x Reader x Fujin: Brothers Share (Lime)

Context: Storm bros both are a bit 'frustrated', and they came up with a very lovely solution

Warning: Nothing explicit, but it's implied you get sandwiched ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The atmosphere gifted such serenity. It was perfect for one to sit through and meditate.

It was always Raiden's go-to hobby whenever he had somewhat spared time in his hands, and he always enjoyed it whenever he could. Although he is a demigod, an immortal being, he knew good things don't last.

Yet, recently, he's been feeling off. It doesn't feel something so dire he needs to consult with the Elder Gods, but whatever it was, it's bothering, let alone, confusing him.

The Thunder God will try to brush off the feeling in body, but it'll always come back. Maybe stronger than prior. And it's agitating since he only knew meditation, which doesn't help.

Standing from his spot, he groans indignantly, rubbing at his temples.

"Trouble with meditation, too, brother?" Raiden slightly flinches and turns to see Fujin. He must've not heard his brethren enter the room.

"It seems so. No matter my attempts, my mind will not be clear. Worse, I do not know what is causing it." Raiden walks around, trying to think before stopping by the window and peering down.

His glow up orbs observe his familiar two students sparring with each other. Turning to the right more, was you seated in the distance, catching up on your studies while occasionally glancing up at your two dorky friends fighting.

For whatever reason, Raiden was less interested in watching the progress with the two boys but kept focus on you. It wasn't like you were doing anything special, but his gaze just never leaves...

"She's stunning, isn't she?" Fujin walks to his side and observes as well.

Raiden only lets out a monotone grunt, which Fujin knew he agreed with him.

"I've been having the same feeling you have. A certain frustration that not even meditation can sooth." Fujin began, walking off from the window. "I may have an idea on how to deal with it, but you are not likely to accept it."

Raiden looked at his brother with a snarky look, finally ridding his gaze upon your figure. "Speak your mind brother, I have no patience for half-hearted, indirect suggestions at a time like this."

Fujin only chuckles at his brother's short fuse, nonchalantly leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. "Well, we both clearly have eyes for dear Y/n, am I correct?"

The expression on Raiden's face relaxed, intrigued on what Fujin may propose. "Are you perhaps about to suggest we collectively pursue her?"

The wind god smiles and nods. "We could persuade her to assist us both on our... salacious feelings before it gets worse."

Looking down, letting the cynical hat cover his glowing orbs, Raiden ponders. This was rather something sinful, but he cannot deny, he is a man. And he knew that Fujin wouldn't judge, considering he's completely relaxed and the one even to propose such a preposterous thing.

"What happens if she finds the request disturbing and says no?"

"If she doesn't want to then we can figure something else out, but Y/n is a cooperative one." Fujin answers, seemingly confident.

Sighing, Raiden takes the younger god's word for it. "I'll accept the proposition."

---Time skip! Dont forget to drink water!---

You ruffled your messy hair, being rather tired after a day of being active. Yet, you were to stop by the Sky Temple again at night.

Walking in quietly, you seeked out both protectors of Earthrealm and did your usual bow as they spot and approach you.

"Greetings, Y/n." Raiden says, returning the courteous bow. "You do not have to be formal with us. You're our friend." Fujin tells you with a warm smile.

"Oh- my bad, it's a habit." You say a bit flustered. "What is it you need from me at this time? Is it about Liu Kang?" I looked confusingly between the gods.

"No, we just..." Raiden didn't know how to start off. "Do you mind if we all go somewhere rather exclusive?"

You were confused since the Sky Temple was rather empty already, but you nodded anyways. And in a split second, the three of you appeared in a rather comfy looking bedroom with a flash.

It must've been Raiden's since all the decoration and furniture look ancient and untouched, considering he doesn't really take time off.

As you were distracted taking in the sudden surrounding, Raiden places his hands behind and back and sighs before explaining. "My brother and I spoke of an issue we both seem to have, and we request if you are willing to help us."

You looked at Raiden and then Fujin in the back. They both seemed relax as if maybe it was something not too urgent. It made you curious.

"Okay, what is it?"

"A certain craving," Raiden takes a glance at Fujin, whom nods, encouraging him to speak more on it.

"A need that we both share. We both desire the physical companionship of a woman. And we would like for you to join us in satisfying that, ah, particular desire since we know you well."

The cat seem to have ceased your tongue as you didn't know how to respond, rather your mind has clouded with thoughts, mostly questions. You looked from Raiden to Fujin. Both of them, eh?

Fujin raises an eyebrow, amused by your expression of shock and uncertainty. "Oh, don't worry, dear Y/n. We won't hurt you. We are simply asking for your consent, and your willingness to indulge us."

"So you guys are really asking me to sleep with you? BOTH of you?" You just had to make sure you were getting this right.

"It may sound absurd for a mortal woman to sleep with not one, but two gods, but we are still men." Raiden states.

"And something similar has happened before." Fujin hints with smugness.

"Fujin." Raiden gives him a warning look before turning back to your shorter being. "Do you have any objections?"

This was rather a one chance in a lifetime deal, and both brothers are such fine specimens. You trusted them well enough.

"Both of you?" You repeated once more with a smirk that was pure admiration.

Fujin walks behind you, first gently grabbing your shoulders before wrapping his arms around you, clearly the more eager brother.

"Brothers share, Y/n." He whispers in your ear, his white bang tickling your face.

Raiden steps more forward, his shadow looming over the both of you. "And we share 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨."

That line alone was enough to cause goosebumps. You gasp quietly feeling soft lips on your neck.

"She's so pretty." Fujin moans out a comment, holding you more and kissing your skin.

Your attention was grabbed back by Raiden as he lifts up your chin, having you look up at his authoritative eyes. "Are you ready to serve like a good mortal?"

You gulped, feeling two things poking you, behind and front.

"Yes, my lord..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ahem... not saying there will be a part 2, but uhhhh, I'm definitely gonna be thinking on it...

God, what my own writing does to me

(Someone on Tumblr ask smth in my inbox, I'm hella bored and lack human interaction)

#mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat imagines #mk headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #lord fujin #fujin #fujin smut #fujin x reader #lord raiden #raiden #raiden x reader #goddesswritings

105 notes · View notes

ozarkthedog · 7 months

Text

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary: while working as a bartender at Prospero's Orgy, a masked woman follows you into a storage room.

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. verna x fem!reader. f/f. smut. fingering. slight dom/sub vibes. no spoilers (that i know of). no beta.

word count: 1.3k

author’s note: tbh, I’ve only watched 2 eps so far but I had to write something with her. I don’t know anything about the series so forgive me if there are inaccuracies.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

Booming music shakes the walls of the old, brick building as you make your way to the storage room. You’ll be amazed if the orgy goers don’t drink their way through all the liquor before the night even properly begins. You heard someone mention something about midnight and rain. You pray your boss will let you go home before all hell breaks loose.

You unlock and shove open the storage room door with a sigh. This was not really your kind of scene. You could handle yourself in a bar and catered events, you’d worked plenty of them before but an orgy? You don’t know why you signed yourself up for this. Sure, the money was good but the moment you stepped foot into the abandoned facility, the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

The room was dank and barely lit as you graze the various shelves for a case of Glenfiddich. You find the last case on the floor near the back of the room when the storage room door creaks and then shuts with a bang.

Fear prickles your skin.

It’s probably some horny couple looking for a secret place to get off. Still, you clear your throat before nervously calling out, “Hello?”

You scream when a masked skull turns the corner of one of the shelves. You walk backward until a coarse brick wall catches your clothing and halts your retreat.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” A gentle voice says from beneath the mask. The woman is draped in a hooded, sparkly red cape that barely covers her body. The black lingerie she’s wearing underneath leaves little to the imagination.

You clutch your chest as you’re taken aback by the stunning blonde when she unties her mask and reveals herself.

“I couldn’t help myself.” She admits, stepping closer before setting down her mask on one of the shelves. “I saw you from across the room and I…” she trails off looking at you as if she’s seeing the sky for the first time.

“Oh my. Aren’t you precious?” She coos, stepping closer. Blonde hair frames her face like a halo although something in your gut told you she wasn’t an angel.

Your breath catches in your throat. You’ve never seen such a beautiful woman so up close before.

“What are you doing in such a place?” She ponders with curious eyes. They travel the length of your body and back again. Something wicked and dark encases those hazel orbs making you swallow down the lump in your throat.

Your cheeks burn as you stumble over your words. “Bartender- I’m a bartender.” You catch your bottom lip with your teeth and tug unconsciously on it. Your flight response kicks into high gear as the lady in red seals the gap between your bodies.

You whimper as she presses her barely clothed frame against yours. The brick wall behind you leaves no chance of escape as your heart bangs steadily against your ribs.

“Shh. There’s no need to be nervous.” She states softly while cupping your chin in her palm. She drags a perfectly manicured thumb across your bottom lip and tenderly releases it from your teeth. “You’re something I rarely encounter.”

You’re frozen in place, like a deer in headlights, waiting for the inevitable when she leans in and time stops. She brushes her lips over yours, so tender and soft, you try to keep the whimper that bubbles up at bay but to your embarrassment, it escapes.

She pulls away with a grin. “You really are precious.” The apple of your cheek is warm under her thumb as she rubs the soft patch of skin. “So sweet. I’d love to hear you sing.”

Your brow quirks until you feel her hand sliding down your belly. She catches your wild eyes in a firm stare. “Tell me to leave and I will.” She states while lifting the hem of your skirt and snaking her hand beneath the material. “Or will you allow me to experience your seraphic nature?”

Your core clenches as she palms your mound when you don’t send her away. Her nails drag playfully over the thin cotton of your panties before she tugs them to the side and finds your molten heat. An illicit sob tears from your lips as she teases your dipping folds with deft fingers.

She strums your core with expertise leaving you a wanton mess in her grasp. Her thumb circles your clit with tight movements, drawing your bliss out and into the open. Your mouth drops in an ethereal sound as she takes you apart with ease.

She smothers her body over yours, her lingerie covered breasts close to spilling as she secures you against the brick wall even harder. “Such pretty sounds from such a pretty girl.”

She laves at the softness of your neck, feeling the pulsating beat beneath the thin flesh as she drowns you in pleasure. Her tongue leaves a hot, wet trail over your neck and down your clavicle as you shake under her lewd touch.

Two deft fingers curl their way into your soaked channel, spreading and molding your warmth to her liking. She rubs along your velvet walls, finding which spots make you shiver and which make you sing the loudest for her.

“It’s fun tasting the other side, isn’t it?” She asks despite your impending rapture. Her hazel eyes glimmer with wickedness. “The grime. The debauchery.”

Wet, sticky thwaps fill the room as she spreads you open. She drinks down every moan and gasp that tumbles from your lips as she fucks with her fingers you into abandon. She tips your head to her chest as she pulls one of her breasts free from a lacy lingerie cup.

“But you’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?” She claims as she feeds you a firm breast. You groan into her flesh and suckle the nipple she offers. You twirl your tongue around the pert bud and relish the soft gasp that she lets loose.

“That’s a good girl.” She praises while stroking the base of your skull and scissoring her fingers against your slick walls. Your essence drips down your thighs, staining and marking your skin but you could care less as this strange woman makes you feel things you never have before.

She hooks her fingers and grazes that spongy spot behind your clit and your body goes ridged. Every nerve in your body sings, wanting to cry out and praise her for choosing you. Your hands lock onto her shoulders, too afraid to let go, worried that if you move she’ll disappear and it’ll all have been a dream.

“It’s alright.” She coos, her eyes growing soft as your core quivers around her digits. “Let go, my precious girl. I’ve got you.”

The knot buried deep in your belly snaps. You come with a raspy wail against her chest, riding out your bliss on her fingers while she holds you in her arms.

She sucks her two cream coated fingers into her mouth and cleans them with a moan. Your mind goes numb at the image and you do your best to not crumble to her high-heeled feet.

“I must return to the party now.” She says, fixing the skull mask back over her face. She stares at you from behind the mask for a silent moment before weaving an arm around your back and tugging you with her toward the door.

“You’re not supposed to be here. This isn’t the place for someone like you. Leave while you can.” Her tone left no room for argument even though you knew you were still on the clock.

You catch yourself on the door frame and spin on your heel, catching her otherworldly gaze. “Will I see you again?”

The lady in red smiles under her mask. “One day.”

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

#verna x reader #Verna x you #Verna #the fall of the house of usher #carla gugino #verna/reader #verna/you

311 notes · View notes

swallowtail-lotus · 1 month

Text

Curiosity {Loki x Goddess!Reader}

Repost!

Even if he's a creepy ass mother fcker, he has one of the prettiest pair of eyes I've ever seen

___________________

Throughout the entire council, you stared at the green haired god with your eyes full of curiosity. You weren't even paying any attention to the topics spoken between your fellow deities, too fixated on the Norse god's head.

"I wonder if Loki's hair is as soft as it appears?" You pondered, your eyes shining with more curiosity. Your hands were rested on your lap, gripping your dress.

You were so distracted, you didn't notice that the council had ended until one of your servants grabbed your attention.

"Lady (Y/n), the council has ended." She said. You hummed and got up from your seat that resembled your throne back at home. You gave her a smile and walked behind her. Your servant guided you out of the meeting room and put a protective arm in front of you when one of the minor gods walked past you.

"Ah, there's no need for that, my child. I'm capable to protecting myself." You tried to reassure her. The girl's face flushed in embarrassment, bowing down repeatedly.

"I apologise, Lady (Y/n)!" She said, her voice filled with panic. You blinked and gave her a soft pat on her head, like you always do to your servants.

"Don't apologise, my child. You did nothing wrong." You said to the girl, standing her up straight. You often treated your servants like they were your children, so this wasn't a surprise to the female servant.

"Now, please go do your duties. I don't need help with anything right now." You urged, waving your hand to dismiss her. The girl stuttered out a protest, but you ignored it and went on with your day. You let out melodious hums, making your way out of the castles. A gentle breeze hits your face and blows through your hair. Suddenly, you detected a faint but familiar presence behind you.

"I know you're there, Loki. Your stealth doesn't work on me anymore." You casually cheered, your smile ever so sweet when the god decided to show himself.

"Aww, little jewel~ always ruining the fun~" He teased, patting your head like a puppy. You rolled your eyes playfully, punching his shoulder softly.

"And how am I ruining the fun?" You snickered.

"You seriously don't know? I knew how you were looking at me." His lips formed a slightly crooked smile, leaning closer to your face. Your playfulness completely disappeared, the heat rising to your face.

"You were staring at me the entire time, like a curious little kitten~"

"I wonder why- huh?" Loki completely stopped talking when he felt your hand on his head, stroking it. Your (E/c) orbs widen with fascination.

"I only started at you because I was rather curious about your hair. I never knew it was this soft!" You continued to play with his hair, accidentally brushing your fingertips against his face and jaw. The god, however, didn't know how to reply. He certainly didn't expect such boldness from a goddess like you. It didn't mean he hated the feeling. In fact, he loved it.

"Your hair's so soft!" You cooed, pulling him in for a hug and resting your head on his own. It would've been somewhat nice...

If he wasn't suffocating in your chest.

Loki didn't know where to put his hands, too distracted with the soft and warm feeling of your chest. Yes, he has noticed how voluptuous you were, but never paid full attention to it until now.

"I was right. Your hair is as soft as I thought." You couldn't help but fawn over the god's hair. Finally, on his end, you let him go, your hand reaching down to pat his head once again. When you pulled your hand away, Loki grabbed it.

"You think you can get away with what you just did?" He hissed, his hand tightened around your wrist. You were scared he was mad, but quickly noticed the lack of hostility in his tone and calmed down.

"With what?"

Loki kept his mouth shut and dragged you to his room, pushing you in and locked it. Unexpectedly, he put you on the bed and hovered over you with a wicked grin.

"You can put those hands to good use~"

#i question why i write these things #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #loki x reader #ror loki x reader #snv loki x reader

78 notes · View notes

cultrise · 2 days

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ REVERIE. BLACK SWAN

‧₊˚ ┊ SYNOPSIS seems the memory keeper has a burning lust for the new companion she saved in the dreamscape.

‧₊˚ ┊CONTENTS wlw, trailblazer!reader ig?, NSFW, strap riding, clit rubbing, hair pulling, wet dreaming, pillow riding, there’s a plot to this trust (´•︵•`) ᵎᵎ wc 1.1k

black swan feels her blood rushing to her cheeks, throat going completely dry. she gasps for air, seeking to replenish the lost air in her lungs, but without use.

something shatters behind her as her lower back pushes against the small table. some stupid vase from the hotel, perhaps. there is little concern in her mind at that moment. she’ll clean it up later. once she’s done with crashing her lips against yours, anyway.

there are some distant voices down the hallway, most likely people checking into their respective rooms. but she’s too engrossed with the sound of breathy moans and the rustle of clothes being taken off to take notice of any of them.

once she’s laid bare in front of you, her clothes scattered into a pile somewhere at the foot of the bed she pushes you onto the mattress, lips finding yours with urgency. the soft touches and messy kisses continue as she giggles, finally exposing your body.

black swan takes the view in as you hurry to open the side table drawer, grabbing and securing the strap to yourself. her fingers slide around your throat, drawing you into yet another tender kiss as her hungry gaze follows yours.

her skin tingles when your digits caress her hips, gently guiding her over the rubber tip. the pounding in her chest reaches her ears, so loud she worries you might hear the excitement and nervousness bubbling inside of her.

not that you'd notice, anyway. not over the sounds of your own restlessness.

black swan yelps, a high-pitched scream as you press her hips down on your crotch. her thighs shake, mouth agape as she adjusts to the size of the strap now fully inside her.

it takes some effort, pivoting her knees into the mattress and pushing upwards. you watch her start to move up and down, the strap already coated in slick.

she grips onto everything she can get, finally finding stability by intertwining your fingers. her pace quickens alongside her breathing, bouncing faster and faster on your length from tip to bottom and repeating.

the pleasure overtakes her and, desperate to reach her high, she starts circling her hips, looking down at you with lust-coated pupils. you stare up in awe, feeling wetness coat your plushy thighs as you admire the goddess resting in your lap.

you ponder whether it should be forbidden to look at her. from her mesmerising face and body to the fragile ends of her hair, she looks as if she were sculpted, painted into the fabric of the universe.

she can see it in your eyes: the want, the need, the despair. the way you react to her every sound and touch. she gets high on the gentle stares of your eyes, the affections spilt from your lips in the form of love bites and the warmth your palms exude on her skin.

she doesn’t protest when you flip her on her stomach, climbing on top of her to continue your ministrations without her purple orbs following yours.

her moans harmonise with your breaths, the slow kisses to her nape making her knees grow weaker and weaker. she doesn’t falter, however, holding her entire body weight on her limbs as your hand latches itself to her love handle, using it to draw her in.

she had never experienced such love from someone. never before has someone treated her body with such care. never has someone been so rough and yet so aware of her needs. she feels cherished even when your fingers get tangled in her soft hair and tug it back, making her back arch.

her eyelids start to droop and she swears she’s seeing white spots as you fill her up. her vision is blurred, her scalp hurts from the way you’re pulling her hair but it’s nothing compared to the way she aches for a release.

“aeons! right there— oh!” she whines into the sheets, gripping them tightly. she wonders where her sudden self-restraint comes from the moment your lips tenderly touch her spine. her back arches even more and her hand travels between her legs, rubbing her swollen clit with vigour.

she can feel your hot breath against her ear and she hopes your touch bruises up her skin so tonight's memory is forever engraved on her body. she wishes you’d never pull out. all she can think of is how desperate she is to touch you, to see you unravel thanks to her hands only.

“al..almost there—“ tears build up in her eyes, a broken half-moan emerging from her throat. she’s sure she can see through the ceiling and into the night sky with the way stars seem to cloud her view. her eyes close harshly, the tears trickle down her cheeks and her legs shake.

she opens them again. her chest is heaving, her bangs are stuck to her forehead and her body feels hot enough to explode. “what.. what just?—“

she stands up halfway, checking her pulse as her heart bangs against her chest. the clock shows 4:32 am.

in one sitting, she gulps down the glass of water on her nightstand. she sits upright, staring at the wall in front of her. her legs shift under the covers and the tiniest friction between her legs sends electric signals all the way throughout her spine.

a gutted whine escapes her lips and, removing the covers, she takes notice of the soaked fabric of her shorts. “what the hell—“

in a confused hurry, she takes them off, only to see the mess between her legs. her breathing is stuttered and she brushes her fair locs of hair. broken images of her fantasy flood her mind and her hand goes to her lips, in horror.

the realisation hits her harder than any attack she had sustained before. had she fantasised the entire thing? had she been so oblivious to her own lust that it took a pitiful dream to have her ruin her shorts?

aeons, she’s disgusting. how is she supposed to look you in the eyes now? how is she supposed to retort one of those warm smiles you give her back? is that really what a famed memory keeper such as herself should be preoccupied with?

she bites down on her lip, the image of you in front of her slithering into her brain.

your gentle smile, your pensive eyes.. it sends heat straight to her core, making her throw her shorts to the other end of the room, in frustration.

it seems nothing will be able to save her from this torturous circumstance, quite the opposite. she’s aware she’ll be unable to go back to bed unless she does something to satisfy her cravings.

and so, she bites back her shame, places a pillow between her legs and a palm to her lips, closing her eyes.

you ponder whether the muffled moans of your name late in the night are the sounds of your own fantasies or something — maybe someone — else.

#𐙚 — pages.#𐙚 — dreamscape.#honkai star rail #hsr #black swan #black swan hsr #black swan honkai star rail #black swan x reader #black swan x fem!reader #black swan x fem!reader smut #black swan x reader smut #hsr black swan x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut

56 notes · View notes

laluvlidovezgal · 2 days

Text

CHANCE.

TW! implications of death.

bittersweet! melancholic

t. muichiro x f. reader

graciously requested by @muuumuiiii ! thank you so much for requesting, you sweet lovely lad<3

who would have anticipated it? the mist hashira, of all individuals, displaying a concern that surpassed anyone else's for you—the spirit pillar; a warrior whose technique came at the steep cost of a gradual erosion of your life.

THE MOON; THE BRIGHTEST PEARL SUSPENDED IN OUR VELVET SKY THAT FLOODED THE INKY DARKNESS WITH ITS SILVER GLOW.

a radiant disc it was. casting its ethereal glow upon the shadows of the night, while also heralding the relentless onslaught of a few infamous entities—demons.

a symbol of hope, this pale sentinel embodied a goddess-like presence, standing as a timeless guardian, observing the earth with an unwavering gaze as warriors valiantly battled the monstrous creatures scattered throughout.

above, the luminous orb commanded the vast expanse of stars, illuminating them all. yet, even in this peaceful night, two particular slayers found themselves immersed in the serenity, although one seemed burdened by a more pressing concern, far beyond the tranquility itself.

in a world where such creatures roamed, the perfect harmony would remain elusive.

thus, what purpose did survival serve if death constantly loomed, a persistent visitor at one's very doorstep?

well, the purpose of life is to be happy. or at least, that's what this young man believed.

said boy possessed an acute understanding of this belief, as if it had become ingrained in the very fabric of his being—an awareness that, perhaps, bordered on the excessive.

the sheer ecstasy of savoring every moment of existence, embracing its essence in its entirety, was undeniably a remarkable achievement—a feat that deserved to be celebrated with fervor.

thus, he found himself utterly incapable of comprehending—indeed, he never had—how she could nonchalantly dismiss the imminent cessation of her own existence, as if it were a trifling matter. the weight of her disregard for her own life gnawed at him, like a persistent ache that defied understanding.

..then again, had he been any different?

"—and…now you’re spacing out, again.”

ah, the sound of that melodious voice; both longed for and dreaded, resonated within him and snapped him out of his reverie. even though he had incessantly poured out his thoughts to her since he awakened from his coma, with her faithfully by his side, deep in slumber—despite her own exhaustion—she had remained.

as your words echoed in his ears, he shifted his gaze to meet your own—and oh, those eyes.

he would give anything to forever witness his own reflection in the depths of your eyes.

in a mesmerizing dance, your gazes intertwined; an exquisite tapestry woven with delicate threads of connection.

he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnificence of your irises—their majesty akin to rare crystalline treasures, gleaming beneath the majestic canopy of the nocturnal sky.

as a gentle zephyr whispered sweet nothings, its delicate touch caressed their beings, a tender embrace from the invisible hands of nature. he watched, his eyelids descending to a half-closed state, surrendering to the enchanting symphony of the night.

the breeze, like a playful sprite, felt as if it alone, could carry away his worries and sorrows, dispersing them into the velvety darkness.

yet, amidst this reposeful tranquility, a question lingered in the depths of his soul, an enigma that remained elusive and enigmatic.

it was one of the few riddles that continued to elude his grasp, an enigmatic puzzle that defied comprehension, regardless of whether he had regained his former self or not.

why, he pondered ever so deeply, did your well-being hold such profound significance to him?

why did his heart ache with an inexplicable yearning to protect you, to ensure the radiance within you remained untouched by the shadows of the world? it was as if his very purpose revolved around safeguarding your light, shielding it from the encroaching darkness threatening to dim its brilliance.

no, he never intended to diminish your worth in any way.

on the contrary—he understood, with a profound certainty, that you’re fully capable of caring for yourself alone.

yet, despite his awareness, a veil of mystery draped over his consciousness—that of a delicate wisp of mist teasing the boundaries of his understanding. it remained tantalizingly close, yet perpetually out of his reach, an enigma that eluded his grasp.

similarly elusive was the faint, almost imperceptible yet weighty pang in his heart each time his gaze flickered to your bandages that dressed your wounds.

he struggled to fathom its origins, to decipher the emotions that coursed through him with every glance. was it concern, fear, or something different altogether?

of course, he chastised himself for overreacting. after all, you were healing, weren't you?

...right?

at least, that was the relentless mantra he repeated to himself, like a haunting melody, a lullaby of self-deception.

perhaps it was a lie he constructed, a defense mechanism to shield himself from the harsh reality. deep down, he knew all too well that you were pushing yourself to the brink, sacrificing fragments of your own well-being to save countless others from the clutches of death.

how he yearned to tell you—to implore you—to cease using the very essence that slowly, yet inexorably, eroded your own vitality. the desire to shield you from the self-inflicted harm, consumed him.

yet, who was he to stand in your way?

who was he to dictate how you should pursue your purpose—your solemn vow? who had the right to demand that you discard the only technique you knew, as if acquiring a new skill were a trivial matter?

perhaps, for you, it had maybe once been a tangible option—a plausible alternative.

however, it clashed with the very reason why you chose to persist in wielding the power of spirit breathing, despite its unfortunate and devastating toll on your own being.

it was a conundrum that weighed heavily upon his soul, yet another conflict that tugged at the frayed edges of his limited understanding.

then, abruptly—his consciousness snapped back to reality, like a fragile dream shattered by the gentle sweep of a waving hand.

in that instant, the symphony of your voice, a sweet and melodious tune, graced his senses once more, stirring his spirit from its slumber.

"hello? earth to tokito?"

your words danced in the air, adorned with a delicate blend of amusement and genuine concern—whilst he, silently observed your actions. his gaze lingering for a fleeting moment, as if capturing the essence of your graceful movements.

soon enough, his eyes blinked, like a dormant star awakening to illuminate the night sky, as he finally stirred from his reverie.

with a subtle tilt of his head, he emitted a soft hum—a melodic expression that intertwined intrigue and acknowledgment in response to your beckoning. the notes of his hum danced through the air, a secretive melody that conveyed both his curiosity and the recognition of your presence.

meanwhile, you watched him with an internal sigh of relief.

the young man, whom you had believed to be forever lost in the bewitching realm of his perpetual daydreams, had returned to the realm of the present. the transformation within him, from introspective to effervescent, had you spellbound, never failing to leave you even in but a speck of awe, of these rare moments of clarity that graced his being.

"seems like someone's finally awake."

a faint smile blossoming upon your lips, akin to the first delicate bloom of a spring flower. lowering your hand with graceful grace,

you adjusted yourself to a more comfortable position beside him on the edge of the engawa outside the butterfly manor—a perch where you and him had been leisurely spending time together, without a care in the world, rambling on about. relishing in the comfort in one another’s presence—like a normal pair of souls basking in the way of life.

"you’ve been staring at me for quite a while.”

pausing for a breath, you tilted your head—the radiance of your irises blooming with an enchanting glow, as if the secrets of the universe were hidden within their depths.

"what's wrong?"

in the midst of an enchanting moment, a subtle hint of wounded innocence played across your seductive countenance, evoking a mysterious allure.

"do i look that bad?"

your voice, though as mellow and gentle as always, carried an underlying touch of vulnerability.

in an instant, he reacted, tilting his head with a subtle mixture of surprise and denial.

"what? no."

aa he blinked, his words slipped out absent-mindedly, like a whisper from a dreamer's lips.

"far from it, actually."

he confessed, his sincerity palpable.

with a gaze that held a painter's eye for detail, he saw your flaws not as imperfections, but as intricate brush strokes that added depth to the masterpiece of your being. inexplicably, he adored you, to the point where it practically pained him.

and who could blame him? for you were way more than a mere beauty that could be captured in words. you were a tapestry of emotions, a symphony of sensations that defied description.

to him, you are everything.

your brows raised slightly, captivated by his ever-unpredictable nature. truly, like the wind, he embraced the freedom to wander in any direction he pleased.

reminiscent of an owl, you blinked a plenty amount of times, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of his flattery. it seeped into the recesses of your heart, stirring a delicate blend of bashfulness and gratitude.

"then..."

unintentionally mimicking his gestures, as if dancing in synchrony with his spirit, you then asked, avidly yearning to explore the depths of his thoughts.

"mind sharing what's got you so..distant?"

although it was not deemed uncommon for him, of all individuals, to maintain a silent disposition, you possessed a deeper understanding—having witnessed something greater, something more.

despite the mere span of a few days, you stood as a crucial observer to the sudden shift in his demeanor. having been privy to a bewildering yet endearingly interactive side of the boy since his awakening, it became slightly disconcerting to witness him potentially regress into his characteristic, distant, and dazed state.

the memory of those extraordinary moments lingered, and it was disheartening to question whether they were mere illusions or if they held the promise of something genuine.

as of now, the male in question pressed his lips together, creating a slender line as his gaze wandered away from yours, as though searching for a brief respite from reality.

seeing this, you reassured him. carefully observing these subtle occurrences with your keen irises.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

responding with a weary shake of his head and a sigh escaping his lips, his gaze flickered back to you, and as his eyes connected with yours once more, a subtle softness overcame them.

truly breathtaking were his eyes. they possessed a hue reminiscent of emerald, yet they gleamed like the replesdent glow of the moon above.

however, what truly captured your attention was the way his brows furrowed just as the corner of his lips downturned, for internally—a cascade of emotions crashed upon him all at once. moreover, a despairing layer seemed to coat his eyes, a poignant sorrow that caught you off guard.

"i don't like it."

he stated firmly, his words hanging in the air, leaving you perplexed.

your head tilted slightly further, eyes widening as you regarded him with curiosity and intrigue.

in response, he raised a hand to the area where his heart resided, his gaze lowering and narrowing towards the ground beneath you both.

"this feeling..."

his voice carried a weight of uncertainty, gaze delicately shifted back to meet yours—and in that moment, you could have sworn you saw his frown deepen as the hint of sorrow on his features became even more pronounced.

"and knowing you could..."

he trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete his sentence. yet, the unfinished words were enough for you to grasp the essence of his meaning.

your brows upturned, sensing the profound depth of emotions he struggled to express fully through words. you had a hunch that it might be something like this, but witnessing his reaction with such intensity was, without a doubt, enough to evoke a painful ache in anyone's heart.

the desire to comfort him welled up within you, an overwhelming longing to ease his burdens. yet, you couldn't help but question how you could possibly offer reassurance.

would it be by telling a blatant lie about something that was inevitable?

now, that would be nothing short of cruelty, no?

to suggest that you would overcome it would only exacerbate the pain. moreover, you were uncertain how to approach the situation without inadvertently triggering a devastating chain of events in the unavoidable future.

truth be told, if he were anyone else, you might have dismissed the matter with a casual remark, wouldn't you?

but with him, it was different.

you couldn't bring yourself to say so.

unable to find the right words in that moment, your gaze somberly shifted away from his, fixating on a distant point ahead. yet, in a sudden and unexpected instant, you were taken aback as you felt the weight of something new but vaguely familiar resting upon your shoulder—soft strands of supple hair gently brushing against you. along with it came a delicate warmth, enveloping you in an oddly soothing sensation.

"you don't have to say anything."

he quietly uttered, his honeyed voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and reassurance. he simply needed to release his thoughts into the open, to let them be heard, even if it was just a single sentence.

there had been no intention to pressurize or burden you, but rather a desire to be the one offering reassurance while subtly seeking comfort himself.

in a silent plea to convince himself that he wasn't caught in a dream, he gingerly leaned his head against your shoulder, and though was making sure not to add any more damage to your wounds, he did so without a hint of regret.

your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of his actions. turning your attention back to him, you found solace in this unspoken gesture of support. that tender gesture conveyed a profound understanding, a connection that surpassed the boundaries of words. it was a silent reassurance; of ones comforting presence for the other, especially in the face of uncertainty.

a sentimental smile graced your features as you felt immense gratitude for his selfless deeds. even in this moment, he made sure you were as comfortable as possible, going above and beyond to provide solace. the warmth of his actions filled you with a deep sense of appreciation and reinforced the unmatched bond between you.

"..thank you,"

you whispered in a hushed breath, your voice carrying the weight of profound appreciation.

though the words seemed simple, they held within them an entire universe of gratitude—a universe that bloomed with vivid colors, dreamlike aspirations, and meaningful connections.

with a delicate grace, you lifted your hand and allowed your fingertips to dance upon the canvas of his raven tresses. each strand, like a silken thread, wove a tapestry of sensations beneath your touch.

the texture was soft and supple, akin to the gentle caress of a summer breeze. as your fingers glided through the ebony strands, you embarked on a journey of intricate care, smoothing out the knots that dared to disrupt the harmony.

in this intimate act, time seemed to suspend, creating a space where the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a transcendent moment. your touch, as mindful as the brushstrokes of an artist, traced a path of tenderness and care. each movement held intention, a pledge to protect and cherish him, ensuring no harm would befall his vulnerable spirit.

It was a silent symphony, where the language of trust and gratitude flowed effortlessly through the whispers of your fingertips.

as you continued this tender ministration, a vibrant tapestry of emotions unfurled within the depths of your heart. gratitude, like a delicate fragrance, mingled with a sense of wonder, weaving a spellbinding combination.

the tenderness you shared painted a tableau, akin to a cherished memory, where hues of warmth, understanding, and appreciation blended harmoniously.

pleased by your touch, a contented hum escaped your companion's lips, his eyes finding solace in the comfortable embrace of closed lids.

a smile, brimming with emotions, blossomed upon his visage, a testament to the profound impact of your presence.

his heart fluttered with a bittersweet ache, caught between the beauty of the present and the uncertainty of the future.

yet, even in the face of daunting odds, a glimmer of hope persisted within him. it discreetly clung to his being, refusing to be extinguished.

it was undeniably a childlike hope, both fragile and resilient; to yearn for the possibility of a miraculous turn of events.

still, muichiro wanted to embrace that chance, to patiently wait for the magic of a future with you.

78 notes · View notes

jessmaybank · 1 year

Text

Jailbirds; Part 2 - a change of heart

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x fem! Reader.

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: feelings start to change.

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, SMUT, fingering, praise kink.

“You got into a fight?” He says, the smile on JJs face unmissable as the mystery unraveled. He figured you just got caught drinking or something, not anything violent. You were a little trouble maker, and he liked it.

You sigh, tearing your eyes away from his ocean blue ones as you decide to give into him.

“Fine. Rafes new girl, Sophia. She bumped into me at a party tonight, and spilt her drink all over me, hence the shirt” you say, gesturing your arms towards your soaked top, which is finally beginning to dry.

“So..” you hesitate

“So you punched her?” JJ tuts, although there is no sense of disapproval laced within his voice as he bites back a smile.

“You would too if you saw the way she spoke back to me, all smug whilst I’m stood there drenched. Bitch had it coming” you say, tapping your foot on the cold floor out of annoyance.

“What about you?” You ask, as you realise it’s gone quiet.

“I was protecting a friend” he says, as blunt as ever.

“Kiara?” You say, concerned. You missed her more than anything.

JJ turns his head to face you, his gaze softening as your eyes meet.

“How is she?”

Your question makes JJ’s head spin. He recalls the events that transpired tonight, how a kook wouldn’t take no for an answer and tried to drag Kie away from him and the rest of the pogues. He recalls that your supposed to be the enemy.

And just like that, his hard demeanour is present again.

“Better now she’s not surrounded by rich assholes” he says, bringing his fingers up to his lap so he can fidget with them.

you knew what the blonde says was most definitely true, but you also knew he was trying to get under your skin.

“Yeah, that’s probably true. I want to run away sometimes” you sigh.

JJ scoffs at that.

“What, your castle not fancy enough or something?” he taunts, and you can feel the agitation beginning to engulf you.

“It’s not my fault I was born lucky, jackass. Get that through your thick skull” you say, maybe a bit too harshly.

The guard interrupted your bickering, chucking two grey blankets in the cell in case we wanted to sleep. However, that seemed unlikely seeing that the only thing in the cell was one long bench. Not exactly comfortable.

JJ gets up to collect the blankets, chucking one right on your head so the blanket is sprawled across your face, which earns a small chuckle from him.

“Thanks for that” you say sarcastically, pulling the blanket off your face and onto your legs, before combing your fingers through your now messy hair.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out after about a minute of silence.

“It’s just a blanke-“

“Not about the blanket. That was funny” he smiles.

“About what I said before, you seem cool…for a kook” he says, chuckling as he makes the kook comment.

And you laugh with him.

For the rest of the night, you and JJ end up finding solace in each others presence. The dark and dingy confining jail cell had transformed into a sanctuary where the pair of you could uncover each others hidden layers, peeling back the cold masks you wore in the outside world. You wanted to ask him about his dad, but you knew that was way to personal and it was none of your business.

“Okay, okay, what about… the worst sex you’ve ever had?” The shaggy blonde asks, and you furrow your eyebrows as you ponder his question.

“I would have to say this touron a couple months ago, he couldn’t even find the…you know” you say, exchanging a knowing glance with the boy as you turn your heads to face each other.

“I do know” he says.

“Is that right?”

And just like that, his ocean blue orbs are filled with dark lust.

JJ slowly moves his hand underneath the blanket covering you, tracing his fingers over your skirt and landing on your thighs, all whilst keeping eye contact.

Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his mouth, then back up to his eyes again to meet him in a dazed gaze.

Your whole body burned as he begins tracing circles on your thighs, a sigh leaving your mouth as the familiar ache in between your legs begins to grow for him.

You watch his movements under the blanket for a moment, before he brings a finger to your chin, forcing you to look up at his angelic face.

Your lips meet in a deep kiss, your cherry chapstick driving him crazy. Your hand finds solace in his hair, pulling at his blonde locks before he bites your bottom lip.

He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, his craving for more on display. Your tongues fight for dominance as you feel his hands go down your skirt and into the place you needed him the most.

You whimper as he pushes your panties to the side, using two fingers to gather up your arousal before he pushes them inside you.

“So wet for me” he whispers, biting his lip as an indication of his horny state.

Your head falls back onto the cold wall as he pounds his fingers in and out of you, biting your lips shut to stifle your moans. The guard could come back at any moment, but neither of you cared.

Your head falls onto his shoulder as you bite at his skin, eager to stay quiet.

“You like that?” He says in your ear, his voice low and raspy. JJ could feel his shorts tighten every time another heavenly moan left your mouth, and he couldn’t get enough. He had to have you.

You nod your head obediently, worried your words would fail you.

“Your being so good for me” he says, his fingers pulling out of you and instead finding your clit, drawing hard circles which make your back arch.

“Who’s my good girl?” He says, the overwhelming pleasure only intensified when you lift your head to look at him, your mouth hung open.

“I- I am” you whimper, struggling to keep your eyes open as you begin to see stars. you were close.

JJ doesn’t think he has ever been so aroused than he is In this moment. Watching your fucked out state is making it near impossible for him to stop himself from throwing you on the cell floor and fucking your brains out.

“I’m close” you whisper, the tight knot in your stomach evident as you screw your eyes shut.

JJ shakes his head with disapproval.

“Look at me whilst I make you cum all over my fingers” he says.

At the last second, he shoots his fingers back inside you, the feeling of you clenching around his fingers making a small moan leave his mouth.

Before you knew it, you were completely coming undone before him, staring up at him through your eyelashes as he fingers you through your orgasm, admiring how sexy you look when you cum.

You try to regain your breath as JJ’s fingers pull out of you. He peppers hot kisses on your neck as a form of aftercare, which you appreciate.

You were about to fix your panties, before he pulls you up on your lap so your straddling him, a cheeky smirk painted on his criminally handsome features.

“I’m not done with you yet”

____________________________________________

I love this series so much it might be my favourite! part 3 is coming ♥️

Tags: @pagesfalling

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #rudy pankow #jj outer banks #outer banks smut #obx3 #jj mayback x reader

342 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

Hear me out (req but for the love of GOD take ur time :>)

Surveying universes with miggy

And u see a sibling reality of the one u two currently exist in,,,, except

All

Cats

Bonus pag,,, u two are a family with a little kitty gabriella

AH AHHHHHHHH AWHHHHHHH ate ur giving me a distraction from school i lavet

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

traveling to other universes with miggy (kitty dimension) – miguel o'hara x reader

"alright, where're we off to now, mig?" you asked miguel as you peered over his broad shoulder, trying to get a peek at his watch. "slow your roll, i'm looking." "uh, actually, i'm looking." lyla quipped as miguel rolled his eyes. "yes, yes, fine, lyla's looking. just wait for a minute, it'll come up." he said as you both watched the AI assistant hop from one point of the multiverse to the other. she finally stopped at one point of the multiversal map and smiled widely. "i think you'd like it there, you'll make mig love it there, i know you will." she suggested to you with a smirk as you instinctively smiled back to her in excitement.

"right, then, let's not waste any time." you declared with a sweet smile as miguel pondered on what lyla was insinuating. lyla opened up a portal to that dimension, you merrily stepped in while miguel cautiously took a step in, following you in the portal; when you two stepped in...

"what...?" you said aloud as you looked around you left and right–you couldn't find miguel anywhere, but what you did find was astoundingly... furry? you saw a furry family walking home together to their quaint little home; they were the o'purra's, as the sign to their doorstep read. you snuck around their and rounded the back to see not only a light coming from their backdoor, but miguel was there, too.

you watched him looking into the little window, his gaze not moving away from there as he focused his sights on the little furry family having dinner in their little home. you joined him silently as you peered into the glowing glass panes, joining the furry family as they ate at their dinner table without them noticing. they were all cats in the household, with a bigger, furrier cat who seemed to be the father helping his little kitten daughter out with her math homework.

"i did it, papa! i did it!" she exclaimed as she set her pencil down and smiled up at her cat father. he nodded and smiled back at his daughter, petting the top of her head–at the in between of her perked up cat ears–her little kitten ears perking up and her big, wide eyes were sparkling at her father's affectionate touch. "alright, alright, that's very good, kiddo." said the cat father, who eerily sounded a lot like... "i remembered something like this happening to me." miguel murmured in a soft voice, his hands on the window pane as he watched the cat father and kitten daughter hug. the father's fur had the same color and miguel's hair, and the exact same hue as his eyes; the kitten daughter looked similar to the cat father, but smaller and sweeter. you chuckled at the sight of the affectionate father-daughter duo.

"they make a good team, i'm... wow, lyla was right; this world's perfect! society run by cats? that's a society i'd live in for the rest of my life, no offense to the spider society, though, y'know." you said with a slight giggle. "anyway... is it just me or does that cat dad look a little like–" "don't even start." miguel interrupted you with a low, monotonous voice as he shut his eyes and lowered his head a little, resting his forehead against the glass.

you looked at miguel, perplexed that he claimed an event like that occurred to him, and at his... his sudden desire to not want to engage in conversation about this anymore. but before you could ask him what he meant, turning your head around to face him–you witnessed the glistening of his eyes as the tears welled up in those hazel brown orbs of his; the very same ones that glowed as the cat father was being tugged by his daughter by the paw to the dinner table. you then heard yet another familiar voice to you, it was... your own voice speaking, but not out of your mouth, it was out of the other cat parent present, readying dinner for the three of them.

you gazed at the loving family, listened to their lovely purrs of appreciation for the food present and for each other as they began to sit down, dig in, and... just go about their day. it shouldn't have affected you this much, right? to see a bunch of cats that happened to sound like you and miguel with a variant of his daughter; it was so cute at first, but then it just... it made you ache for something, long for something you've never had before. "they're just cats, don't... don't get affected." miguel muttered as he shook his head, as if to shake the tears and the sentimentality of this life that seemed way too familiar to him in cat form was playing out. "stay on high alert, the anomaly's gonna wreak havoc sooner or later, and we can't let it hurt these... felines." he finished as his mask soon concealed his face, giving him a scowl for an appearance as he donned on the dark blue and red accented mask and began to walk away.

you wanted to say something to him, reach out to him–do anything to console him for this despondency he was experiencing to stay in this dimension any longer than you two should after witnessing what used to be the life he lived, and practically stole from some version of him, unfold yet again in feline form. you sighed as you watched him swing off to the nearest scratching post, with you taking one last look at the lovely family the cat versions of you two shared, and the lovely daughter you two had, took care of, and raised together.

you bid that family farewell as you shot your web at the same scratching post and swung off into the night, throwing yourself back in the damned routine you were so used to; that you tired of and wished... wished you could live a life like your cat counterpart. you desperately wished that you could just be at peace and with your loved ones–and that got you thinking, was there a version of you that found happiness? and if so... could you maybe... be there, even for a little bit, even if miguel didn't want you to stay?

well, maybe. but in the meantime, it comforted you that even a cat version of you could live one of its nine lives being comfortable, happy, and fulfilled being a co-parent with a cat father that was very reminiscent of... a man you thought you knew very well. this gave you hope, just a sma sliver of it, that you could one day attain the happiness and peaceful life you so desired.

218 notes · View notes

letters-from-dekarios · 12 days

Text

midnight tears

summary: stricken with grief, anxiety, and the shadow of his former, prouder, self, gale takes to seeking comfort in the swift end he dreamt up many moons ago. tav finds him before it’s too late.

or: gale considers exploding and tav stops him

word count: 2.1k

tags: PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING: this story contains themes of self-harm/suicide. it is not my intention to trigger or harm anyone who comes across this story, but, rather, to share a side of a fictional character I’ve taken a liking to. please do NOT read if these themes, discussed in a reasonable concept of detail, could potentially harm your mental state.

other tags include; gn!tav, act 1 storyline, major gale angst, im still a part of the mystra hate club

He had it all planned out. Written down. He had a failsafe in case things went wrong. Timed it down to the letter, against all the knowledge he had on the orb within him. If worse came to worst, Gods he hoped it wouldn’t, he knew precisely how he wanted to go.

When he first gathered the understanding of the Netherese orb within him, its desperate need to consume the Weave, he was confused. Which was a rare occurrence for him. He was always so knowledgeable that confusion rarely ever happened. He’d question things and soon find an answer, but with this.. no, this was different.

In his quest to prove his love, he only proved his egotism. Something he had tried to stay away from and here he was, indulging in it. How proud was he that he could be able to love the Goddess and Mother of all magic and still be unhappy? Still try to attain more power, more love? How dare he, a mortal man, try and capture the Weave for himself?

Was it really out of love, or was the idea of power and the concept of Godhood too tempting to be toyed with? How did he get this far? How did he manage to do it in the first place, if not by his handling of the Weave itself? He had all the power he could hold and still wanted more.

He was the epitome of a power-hungry, egotistical, jackass.

He deserved the consequences he now had to suffer. He could blame no one other than himself for Mystra’s decision to make him live with it. She could have, very well, killed him right there. But she, by her merciful graces (or what the larger part of Gale perceived as merciful), allowed him to live. He would sacrifice himself to right the wrongs he had created.

As he lay in his tent, one uneventful night, staring at the stars, he pondered the plan he had in his back pocket. He had it figured out for years now, so it wasn’t a question, but he questioned the actual statistics of it. He pulled out a little vial from his bag and turned it over in his hands, reading the neat handwriting over and over again. Midnight tears. A poison whose consequences would only take effect at midnight exactly. If he consumed it in the early morning, traveled far into the Underdark and waited, he would avoid injuring any innocents in the process.

It was a desirable end to his misery, he concluded. If he woke before Tav and the rest of the group, he could be gone before they arose. He doubted they would notice he was missing.

He knew Tav had accepted him for his faults, his lies, and everything else with him. They had encouraged him to stay traveling with them, but he didn’t feel as though he deserved to.

He wondered what the poison would feel like, how it would taste. The seller who gave it to him was vague on the details, and Gale didn’t know if he preferred that or the horrid truth of receiving every component.

He set the poison to the side and conjured a dagger in his hands. He twisted it between his palms, considering the other option to poison. It wasn’t the preferred way to go, but it was his failsafe in case the poison went bad. All he had to do was plunge the magic knife into his chest, and off he would go.

It wouldn’t be the prettiest, he knew that, but it would be better than nothing. His blood pooling out onto the ground, pained cries filling the air- he’d apologize again and again to Mystra, his goddess, his first love, telling her how sorry he was for the stupid mistakes he’d made.

His mouth would taste like copper, eventually, and by then he’d begin slipping away. His body would go numb, he figured, and then his hands would drop. He would fall onto his back, staring up into the vast sky of Faerún, before everything disappeared.

He had a letter written already for his soul to pass on to Tav and the others. He’d apologize to them, too, for letting them down. For not becoming the man they hoped and wished he was. For everything. There wasn’t enough time in all the realms where he could be forgiven for his mistakes.

The longer he sat there, with his thoughts, the more he twisted the knife between his hands. The more he sunk into himself, the harder he pushed it in his palms.

He didn’t even realize he was bleeding until he felt his hands become oddly slippery. He sat up and looked down, his eyes going wide as he saw the blood trickling down his fingers. His heart began to race, his chest becoming tight. He couldn’t live with himself if he died now and took out all his companions with him. Though, maybe he was just being dramatic.

The knife in his hands disappeared and he looked clearer at the cuts on his hands, cursing himself under his breath. He grabbed a nearby carafe of water and poured it over his hands, hissing in pain while they stung.

“Goddess forgive me..” he sighed under his breath, looking around for some cloth he could use to cover his wounds. Then, during one of their battles, he could play it off as an injury received. Why did he do this?

Why was he like this?

He could never know the answer to those questions. The questions that pulled at his heart and broke down in his mind- they had no real answers, they never were able to be answered to begin with. In all his years living as some high, extraordinary Chosen of Mystra, he never found the courage to become insightful of himself. He never understood why he was never enough, or why he couldn’t do things right. Why did he feel the need to lie to cover his imperfections? Why was he so scared that if he messed up, he would never be exonerated?

Mystra had planted the seed in his head that he was not worthy of forgiveness, that death would be the only thing to balance his scale. It got to him. Terribly so, Gale began to believe that she was right. After all, how could one commit such a sin against a God and not be considered unworthy of their forgiveness? He had tried to usurp her authority, whether for love or pride, and had to deal with her wrath. She had every right to not pardon him. She had every right to make him feel how he did.

Though he was rather calm in these situations, no matter what was happening around him, right now he was panicking. His breath picked up, his chest rising and falling faster by the second. Why couldn’t he find a damn cloth?

“Gale?” Tav’s sweet voice broke him from his thoughts. Was he crying, too? He couldn’t tell anymore. He was a whole mess and a half.

“Tav-“

“What happened?” The way they spoke, so much concern in their voice, he couldn’t help but be ashamed of what he had become. How could he sit here, hurting, and hurt others around him? The look Tav gave him was enough to break a thousand realms over again, and he felt awful for making them deal with him.

“I- I don’t know…” he replied, the panic in his eyes as evident as ever.

Tav disappeared for a moment but quickly returned with more water and some towels. They sat down beside him, sighing softly as they took his hands in their own.

He winced, pulling back for a moment before Tav eased him, gently cleaning the wounds.

“Gale..” they started again, and he looked away, ignoring the wounds on his hands. Gods, he was so stupid.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” he replied, taking a breath as Tav made sure his hands were okay.

“Gale,” they repeated, glancing down suspiciously at the poison beside him.

He looked to his side, sighed, and then opened his mouth to speak. How could he even begin?

“You promised me,” Tav sighed, waving their hands and muttering a small healing spell. Soon enough, the wounds closed, and his hands were clean again.

“I wasn’t going to-“

“Gale-“ they sighed again, running a hand over their face. “Why do you even have it? We discussed this. It won’t come down to that.”

“We don’t know that.”

Tav looked at him with those sad, puppy-dog eyes. Hurt laced their words, how could Gale be so cruel to himself?

“It’s for safety.”

“Safety of who, Gale? What happens if you accidentally drink it instead of a healing potion? What happens if it ends up in your food?” They asked, eyebrows furrowed together.

“I wouldn’t do that-“

“Oh, come on. We’ve all done it. These damn bottles look so alike! I hardly know the difference between a feather fall and an angelic sleep spell, Gale. It could happen to any of us.” Tav replied, their words rather sharp. Gale flinched, looking down at his fully restored hands.

“I cannot live on if I do not have a clear source of escape should things turn the wrong way,” Gale replied, honest-hearted words clashing with the things he was actually thinking. Yes, he felt that way, but did he think that way? Hardly.

Truth be told, Gale was angry with Mystra. At least, a small part of him was. He had done everything to love her, to prove his love, going so far as bestowing this upon himself, and instead of helping, she cast him aside. If she truly loved him as she claimed to, would he even be here? Why had she left him like this- surely death would have been much kinder. This was just plain cruel.

“I don’t want you to think like that, Gale. I want you with me, with our party, for as long as you can be. You’re supposed to stay by our side, not have a plan to leave us,” Tav took his hands in their own again, looking him in the eye. “Please, Gale. I want you to live. I need you to live. Planning your demise does no one any good, especially not yourself.”

“Mystra-“

“Enough about Mystra!” Tav dropped his hands, frustrated now. “We know. I know. Why are you so devoted to her when all she’s done is bring you pain? It makes no sense to me that you would continue to suffer in her name. You need to be free, Gale. Netherese orb or not, and whether you like it or not, you’re in this tadpole journey with us. I don’t give two damns what Mystra thinks or feels. This is about you, not her.”

Those words struck him. Yes, that tiny part of him agreed, Mystra was harsh for leaving him like this. She was rather harsh to toss him aside after doting on him and his abilities for so many years. But the larger part of him outweighed that piece, and he could only help but feel guilty for thinking such things about her.

“But-“

“No buts, Gale. You’re going to stop this stupid ‘I’m going to blow myself up for Mystra’ nonsense. I know it’s a part of who you are, we all have things we have to deal with, but please. For me, for all of us, you can’t go on with this weight on your back.” Tav sighed, taking his face gently in their hands and wiping away his tears.

“I’ll try to do better, I promise,�� Gale replied, letting his face rest in their soothing hands. Why did he always hurt those that he loved? He couldn’t answer that. He never could.

“The next time you start contemplating your death, please, Gale, talk to me. Talk to any of us! We all want to be here for you, and I know I would be so incredibly miserable if we lost you,” They looked into his eyes and pulled his head against their own. Their foreheads touched, Gale’s eyes shut, and for a brief moment, he felt at peace. No matter what happened he knew he had friends to rely on. And for that, he was thankful.

Tav made sure he was alright before returning to the campfire to rest. He tucked the poison into the furthest part of his bag, laid himself to rest, and let his mind slip away into the night.

He would keep the poison and the letter handy, just in case, and it would take quite some time for him to be fully able to talk to the others when he was feeling like exploding, but it would happen. Eventually, he would be okay. Eventually, he would find peace.

53 notes · View notes

babecoups · 2 years

Text

playdates || jjk

➻ title: playdates ➻ pairing: dilf!jungkook x female reader ➻ genre: fluff | smut | neighbors au | single dad!jjk | pwp ➻ summary: jungkook calls you out and shows you what you’ve been missing. ➻ word count: 1k ➻ warnings: unprotected sex | standing doggy | light aftercare | orgasm control | clit stimulation | quickies | partially clothed sex | kitchen sex | creampie ➻rating: 18+ ➻ a/n: hey, since i’m going on a hiatus soon i figured i’d post something. now before y’all call me out, this is a repost from my old blog. i’m not copying @/sugasbabiie’s work, this is the author that previously used that url so this work is mine lol. it’s unedited but i hope you like it.💕

Every weekend you pick up your niece so she can come over and play with his daughter. Poor girl hasn't had any friends over since her and her dad moved next door a year ago. Both girls are at yours today, and they fell asleep after playing in the backyard for hours.

Sure you love spending time with your only niece, but the other reason you invite her to your place is to get to know her best friend’s dad.

However, you never imagined you’d know him this well.

"Where are the girls?" Jungkook asks, stepping forward as you cautiously step back. You bump into the kitchen island, and suddenly you’re trapped between it and your hot neighbor.

And he knows it. That's why he’s coming closer. He stops walking only when he’s inches apart from you.

"Sleeping," you gulp when he leans forward, "I just tucked them in a few minutes ago, but—"

His index finger touches your lips, shushing you.

"So that means I have you alone for a bit, yeah?" He looks down the hall and notices all the doors are closed. The silence is a tell tale sign that the toddlers are fast asleep.

"Yeah, I guess so," you laugh nervously.

"You guess so?" He lifts your chin with his finger, and makes you stare into his dark brown orbs.

"You eye-fuck me every time you see me, and now that we're alone all you can do is guess?...That's so disappointing."

Fuck.

Your mouth hangs open, mind going completely blank. The wink he gives you seems to ignite every ounce of bravery you own. So, you lay it all on the table. "Um, what should we do then?"

His eyes roll as he ponders in pretend thought. "I don't know, _____. You tell me.”

The way his gaze is fixated on you, like he’s undressing you with his eyes. It leaves you speechless, unable to answer him because the words just won’t come out. No longer willing to wait for your response, he speaks up for you.

“Because if I had it my way, I'd have bent over the kitchen counter by now.”

"Do it."

Your outburst surprises you even

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

"Yeah, isn’t it obvious?" You gesture to your tiny lounge shorts and tank top, perfect attire to wear when you’re trying to get dicked down in a rush.

Once he receives the greenlight, he spins you around and pins you against the island with his lower body.

"Alright,” he pulls down his sweats and then your shorts, praising you for not wearing any panties, “keep your eyes on that door. The second it opens you tell them it’s time to play hide and seek, understand?"

You nod, bracing yourself as he aligns with your entrance. When he slides in, you almost let out a moan, but Jungkook quickly covers your mouth with his hands. "And keep your fucking voice down. You don't behave, I stop,” he whispers.

You shut up immediately after that, taking every inch, every thrust, and every violent snap of his hips in silent cries. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, the squelching sounds of Jungkook entering you travel throughout the empty kitchen.

Soon the coil tightens and your walls constrict around his thick cock. He growls into your ear and the sound makes your knees tremble. "Gonna come, aren't you?"

He lowers his hand so you can talk.

"Yes. Jungkook, I have to come."

You speak as quietly as you can, turning your head to look at him with your watery eyes. The pleasure threatens to take over your body at any second, and you aren't sure for how long you'll be able to keep it together.

"No, you want to come. Let me help," he offers, reaching between you to touch your clit, "don’t scream, okay?"

How?

His hand recovers your lips, and you grip onto his strong arm for support and for your sanity. Your nails rake over his skin, drawing sharp but hushed hisses from him. Within a few quick circles drawn onto your already sensitive bud, you’re reaching your release.

Jungkook begins grunting and groaning in your ear, some of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard. He buries his dick inside of you and fills you with his cum, making you moan due to the warmness in your womb. You both spend seconds coming down from your high, you both focus on the throbbing sensation as you overcome the sensitivity. He chuckles at the sound you make when he reluctantly slips out of you.

He quickly grabs some napkins to clean up the cum that leaks down your inner thighs and pulls up your shorts while you lay there slumped over the island.

"Go take a nap or something. I'll order pizza for the girls and we’ll hang out when you wake up," he suggests, kissing your cheek.

You wouldn’t deny his offer even if you weren’t fucked out right now. You scurry away to your bedroom to shower and sleep before the kids can see you in a post-orgasmic bliss. But before you can make it to your room, Jungkook calls out to you from the kitchen.

"Hey, you don't have to wait until the weekends to get some dick, you know? Just come over between 8pm and 3am."

Your cunt clenches around nothing at the thought of fucking him again.

“For sure. Thanks,” you say with a shy smile.

He leans on the counter, watching you with a smirk. “Anytime, baby.”

Fuck.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #kvanity #ksmutclub #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts fanfics #fromthebabe

3K notes · View notes

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 10 months

Text

𓅨 Shifting Wings: Chapter Ten

Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.

Warnings: Angst, Language.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).

Word Count: ~2.3k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

She has not shown herself to you, because she does not wish to.

Lucienne’s words haunted Morpheus in an Endless pain he felt within his being. He had expected you to seek him out the moment he returned as you had always been faithfully by his side. Not to mention he had made a promise to you that he was not able to keep. Surely you were upset by that. No, he had expected everything to be as it was when he had left. He’d been wrong. Lucienne changed. Cain and Abel changed. Fiddler’s Green changed. It was a naive notion to think that you wouldn’t change. Stewing in his morose thoughts, Morpheus decided he had brooded long enough. It was time he tracked you down, for Morpheus needed your comforting presence, even if you held nothing but animosity towards him. Even if all you’d allow was for the Endless to merely gaze upon you, that would be enough.

Rising from his throne, Morpheus stepped down the stairs and strode for the one place that would have the most clues regarding your whereabouts. Your studio. Striding through the palace, Morpheus pondered your absence some more, disturbed by your lack of appearance. Did you not love him as he thought you did? Had he not made his affections clear to you? Jessamy had certainly threatened him plenty over his intentions towards you. 106 years. How much could a person change in that time? Had your love dissipated and resentment taken shelter? Were you angry? Were you unconsolable? Did you want nothing to do with him and the palace after Jessamy’s death? Did you hate him? Perhaps you did if you refused his company.

He reached the door to your studio and paused. He couldn’t feel your presence within, but several light orbs were softly illuminated indicating that you had been within your studio recently. Opening the door, Morpheus stepped into your art studio and ventured forwards. There were paintings and sketches scattered throughout the studio, you were clearly still painting and drawing… but all of your works now held a darker tone. Your artwork reflected a darkened mind crippled by pain, agony.

Walking around your work bench, Morpheus eyed the luxurious bed, expecting to see your nest of pillows, feathers, and down. But all he saw was a neatly made bed, devoid of indication that anyone used it. The studio was used, yes, but clearly you did not use it as you once had. He looked closer at your sketches, many of which were sketches of Jessamy, beautifully sketched and detailed. Your skill had only increased. It only felt like a night ago in which you were just starting to learn how to draw in your new body.

“You look quite concentrated, little one,” Morpheus observed as he sat for you while you struggled to hold a pencil with your foot and draw his likeness. You growled under your breath and spit out a few curses which made Morpheus’s lips twitch. He doubted you noticed, but you truly came alive when you were focused on your art. The melancholy on your face faded and a spark of determination sparkled within the depths of your black eyes.

“That’s because I still sometimes have a hard time grasping this stupid pencil,” You huffed back, gripping the small instrument in your tiny foot. You hopped several places and flapped your wings. “I can control it pretty well at times but then it get’s away from me and everything starts going awry!”

You let out a caw of frustration and threw the misbehaving pencil across the room. It was much easier to paint, in your opinion, than to draw. You’d taken to the brush much quicker than the pencil, and your frustrations were starting to get the better of you. Morpheus rose from his seat and walked over to where you were standing, trying not to let your frustrations get the better of you.

“Why am I even doing this?” You asked with an exaggerated sigh. Morpheus lifted a finger to your beak and tilted your head up.

“Because you are determined, Adrienne,” He reminded you with a small smile. “And you are not one to give up so easily, your perseverance has brought you this far, has it not?”

You eyed your lord, seeing his provocative eyebrow raise. It ruffled your feathers and you huffed.

“I never said I was gonna give up, I just—I feel like I am not making any progress and it’s been decades.”

“And you have eons more to hone your skill, for I shall always look forward to your creations.” You eyed him carefully. Sometimes you really wished that you had your human body rather than a birds.

Don’t be envious. Don’t be envious. It wasn’t like the dreams and nightmares throughout the realm had the pleasure of painting Morpheus’s portrait with the Endless sitting right in front of them. It wasn’t like the Endless actively sought out their company.

“Fine, fine, sit back down I’m almost done with your general profile.” You ordered, having no issue ordering the Endless around. Morpheus, pleased that you had finally perked up, returned to his seat and watched as you fluttered to where your thrown pencil had ended up. Grasping it in your foot once more, you swooped back up to the easel and focused back on your sketch.

You were not a conventional lover, certainly if your relationship with him had grown more intimate. But at the time your company had been more than enough for him. Now all Morpheus wanted was to hear your comforting voice and see the familiar splash of midnight and pearl. Even if it was only to hear your thoughts of envy and yearning for what you had once had. He also owed you an apology. Not just for the fact that he had broken his promise to return with an hour, but your sister had been killed while in his service. It had been voluntary, but you would still feel betrayed.

Morpheus was about to leave the studio, not having garnered any new information from inspecting your studio, but then caught sight of a brighter light peeking out the trim of the small closet. Curiosity peaked, for why would you have the closet light so bright compared to the rest of your studio? Morpheus drew the slightly cracked door open and found his answer. Compared to the rest of the studio, the closet was far more homely and lived in. Down and feathers littered the floor, and there was a nest tucked in the corner. That was where you slept. But what Morpheus took notice most of all, was the obsessive amount of drawings of Jessamy.

They were everywhere, pinned on the walls, stacked on shelves, stuffed between books on a small bookshelf. He moved over to a stack that sat next to a bowl full of charcoal, clearly being used. On the top of the pile was a sketch of himself with Jessamy, the drawn lines darkened and clear, sharp. His eyes were the only hint of color on the page, an illuminating blue. By far your best work yet, not even Morpheus had seen you draw this beautifully. As Morpheus stared at the sketch, he spotted something at the edge of the page that should not be there. A charcoal fingerprint.

All who knew you, who lived within the palace, knew to never touch your artwork unless permission was given. Who would even think to enter a place so small and intimate, one you took shelter in, and touch your work? Certainly with charcoal on their fingers? Morpheus reached for a journal he had given you, inscribed with your name in gold lettering, and opened it. More pictures of him and Jessamy greeted his gaze. It was just as obsessive, and Morpheus could see your mental breakdown over the years. But even as he witnessed your breakdown through your drawings his eyes kept returning to the fingerprint upon your sketch. So journal and sketch in hand, he strode from your studio and headed for the library, determined to finally get answers.

Lucienne had been speaking with Mervyn about the newly rejuvenated gardens when their lord came striding into the library with a swirl of anger. Her brown eyes saw that he carried a leather-bound journal she often saw you drawing in, and a piece of parchment.

“Sir,” Lucienne greeted, trying to keep herself calm. “Is there something you need?” Morpheus strode up to her and held up a charcoal drawing of him with Jessamy perched on his shoulder. “Ah, I see you have discovered Adrienne’s artwork? She has much improved over the last century.” Lucienne said pleasantly, ignoring the charcoal fingerprint on the edge.

“Tell me, Lucienne, who enters Adrienne’s studio and touches her work when we all know that is an egregious event?” Morpheus asked, his voice poised with a lethal edge of a dagger. Both Mervyn and Lucienne shifted where they stood.

“I— I am not aware that anyone has entered Adrienne’s studio without permission let alone touched her work. We know she does not like it when her work is touched.” Lucienne replied evenly, reverting back to what was well known about you. “Not even to admire…” Morpheus shifted his gaze to Mervyn.

“And have you, Mervyn, witnessed anyone trespassing these halls? Surely you have seen something, as Adrienne does not possess hands.” He was enunciating his words now, his patience dwindling at the lack of information on you. Where were you? Why had you not appeared before him? Did you truly hate him? Did you despise him for Jessamy’s death? Were you in such anger that you would refuse to grace his presence ever again? Mervyn rubbed the back of his head, not knowing what to say. The promise he made to you all those years ago to treat Adrienne as dead was still strong… but lie to his lord? That he could not do.

“Well…” Mervyn sighed dramatically. “No one has gone into her studio who shouldn’t have, I can tell you that. She’d eat ‘em alive if they did… kinda anal about keeping people out actually. She’s gotten mean the past few decades,” He muttered while Lucienne forced herself to not facepalm herself in front of Morpheus. Mean. Adrienne had gotten mean. That was the first piece of true information Morpheus had gotten since coming home. But how could you have turned mean? You didn’t hold one mean bone in your entire body.

“Mervyn,” Your quiet, flat voice shattered the tension between the trio as you came striding into the library. The pumpkin headed janitor looked at you as you came to a stop. Your hair was ruffled and your clothes looked hastily put on. “I retrieved the sprite lantern from the relieving arch.” You announced. “If you want the Hesperides to stop throwing the lantern up there, may I suggest moving it? They despise each other.”

“Move it?” Melvyn repeated, insulted at the idea. “The whole point of having the spite lantern there is because of the water— ah fuck, I’m really gonna have to find a new place for the lantern, ain’t I?”

“Indeed,” You echoed, knowing that the janitor hated when he had to shift the homes of the residents of the palace around. They were quite persnickety about their place of home. You contemplated where the sprite lantern could be moved. “Perhaps the east end garden? I believe Lord Morpheus put in a new pond there.”

“Yeah, yeah, good idea,” Mervyn agreed before glancing at Morpheus. “Speaking of which, you met whitey here?” He asked, jerking his stick thumb at you. “She’s kind of mean and never smiles, not that she can, but is one hell of a worker to have around. She’s kept this place running while you were gone.”

You blinked at Mervyn before looking at Lord Morpheus.

“We have met before, though never the chance to formally speak,” You confirmed, then gave Mervyn an unimpressed look. “And I believe you mistake my frankness for me being mean, because that would imply emotions which you are aware that I do not experience.” As you stared at Mervyn who was scowling at you, you felt Morpheus gaze wearing heavily on your body. “If you will excuse me, retrieving the sprite lantern from the receiving arch is not the only task I have do to this day,” You said before giving your lord a respectful nod. “Lord Morpheus,”

You strode out of the library, heading for your next task. Morpheus stared at your back as you strode away, still feeling like there was something off about you. No, there was. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, and it wasn’t that you lacked empathy. It was something else. Something about you was hauntingly familiar, yet entirely foreign.

“Where did she come from?” He asked, settling his gaze back on Lucienne and Mervyn. They shifted uncomfortably. “She might be a resident of the Dreaming, but I have no memory of her. So tell me, exactly where did she come from? You say she has maintained my palace diligently all these years, yet I do not know her.”

“I just realized that I left the sprinkler on in the desert garden so I’m just gunna…” Mervyn rambled while edging his way out of the library, Morpheus made no comment, his eyes locked with Lucienne’s, who was staring back and trying not to be daunted. A nearly impossible task, even for her.

“Only a creature with wings, is capable of retrieving something from the relieving arch,” Morpheus stated, his eyes now hard. He was done asking questions. Yes, done with asking questions, worrying about where you were, wondering if you hated him, needing you… and would now demand answers. He demanded to know where you were, he demanded your presence. The secrets had gone on long enough. Even if you did in fact hate him, he still demanded your presence. “I expect Adrienne in my throne room tomorrow morning at ten o’clock exactly,” Morpheus decreed, then his eyes glowed silver in warning. “Or I shall summon her directly with my sand regardless of her wishes.” With that he strode away, coat billowing just as much as his anger.

Date Published: 7/5/23

Last Edit: 7/5/23

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #morpheus #dream of the endless #dream the endless #lord morpheus #the sandman #dream x reader

128 notes · View notes