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chuluoyi · 6 months

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Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?

like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?

(not the) best kept secret

- fushiguro megumi x reader

cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.

genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!

notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.

Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.

In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.

And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.

Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.

It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.

“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”

“Shut up, Itadori.”

And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.

you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!

Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.

megumi: wanna grab lunch later?

It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.

Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.

Head pats. Texts. Lunches.

And then there was Nobara.

Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.

But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.

It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.

At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.

"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"

"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."

Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.

"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"No, Megumi, I—"

"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."

Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.

Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.

And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.

But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.

"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.

"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."

His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.

"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?

"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."

To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.

"I like you too, Megumi."

And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?

Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.

Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.

But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.

Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.

“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.

All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.

"Fushiguro! How could you?!"

When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.

You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?

"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"

"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"

"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"

"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"

Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.

But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?

He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”

Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.

And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.

Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.

His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.

He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.

And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.

Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.

Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.

Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.

“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”

It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.

When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.

“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”

No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.

“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.

Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?

But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.

“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”

You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.

“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.

“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.

Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.

“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”

“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”

You were at a loss.

You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.

But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.

"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"

"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.

Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?

Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.

"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."

He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.

You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.

He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.

"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."

"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."

And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?

He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?

"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."

"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.

"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."

"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."

He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.

At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.

"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.

"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."

You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”

And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.

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studioghibelli · 2 months

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moonlight sonata- a joel miller x reader

summary: entranced by your enigmatic history professor, you can't help but feel like he's hiding something from you. is it really that crazy to think that joel miller might actually be.... a vampire?

warnings: no use of y/n, teacher x student relationship, vampire!joel, professor!joel, student!reader, no outbreak!au, hefty age gap, a self-indulgent vampire fic i'm not even gonna lie, and of course smut (biting, desk fucking, pussy eating, period sex, fingering, finger sucking, some dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, etc.)

The rocky shore line raged alongside the whistling storm, brazen waves slapping and slamming against the rocky coast with each crack of lightning. The stone covered castle far off the outskirts of the small, hidden university was mostly shrouded in the darkness of night, except the flickering of a candle light at the highest window.

With each tick tock of the clock, the rain continued its journey on through the evening, painting the green grass with its wet dew. You cursed yourself for making an appointment with your history professor on this day of all days, annoyed that the weather decided to act up on this particular Wednesday, as if the storm hadn't been brewing for days on end.

As you walked along the cobblestone path, the moon slowly clawing up the canvas of the sky, your mind wandered to thoughts of him.

Joel Miller. Dr. Joel Miller. Professor Joel Miller. He didn't mind what he was called, as long as they got the "Joel" part right.

He was an enigmatic as he was handsome: charming, intuitive, mysterious, quiet. Every time you thought you were getting over him, he did something to draw you right back in. The flash of a smile sent directly to you during a test, a gentle brush of his fingers across your shoulder, a comment made on a well-written paper of yours- he knew just what to do to keep you tight on the line of his fishing hook. Whether he knew what he was doing, well... that was another question entirely.

You had asked to meet him after his office hours because of a particularly jarring comment he left on one of your papers.

Your research on Medieval Romanian folklore demonstrates commendable dedication and insight into the complexities of nocturnal life and the myths associated with it. However, I urge you to exercise caution in your interpretations, as some observations may lead you down paths best left unexplored. Remember, curiosity can be both a blessing and a curse.

Since you read what he wrote, you haven't been able to get it out of your head.

Weeks of research on Romanian folklore, specifically that of vampires, had left you questioning and guessing a multitude of previously learned lessons. You felt crazy, waking up in the dead of night because you felt eyes on you, the lingering kiss of a pair of sharp teeth ghosting against the soft skin of your neck. And, even more crazy -admittedly- you found yourself studying Professor Miller even more closely after his comment.

He only held his classes in the evening, his office hours were far later than any other professor, and you could always see his office light flickering on throughout the night, a beacon of hope you could look out to from your dormitory, when you were jerked awake by nightmares of monsters sucking your blood dry, their sharp fangs biting in to your supple flesh as though you were their first meal in centuries.

And yet, despite the pieces of evidence you had collected over the past few semesters, you still felt like you were on the brink of insanity for even thinking about believing such a preposterous myth. Especially one that involved Joel Miller, your favorite professor.

Despite this, you longed to talk to him about that cryptic message he wrote, so you swallowed your doubts and fears and garnered up enough courage to meet up with him.

By the time you reached the thick wooden door of his office, you could barely breathe, soaked to the bone as your clothes clung to your skin, droplets of rain clinging to your skin like smears of oil paint on a canvas.

You didn't have to knock for the iron hinges of the door to swing open with a loud creak.

"Professor!" Your surprise rocked through you, eyes widening as he caught you right on time.

"Hello. I knew you were on your way up." He looked down at you, his burly build towering over your own, and beckoned you inside.

Dr. Miller's office was cold, so cold that your skin raised with goosebumps as you slowly made your way inside. The wallpaper was old and floral, ripping at the edges of the corners of the walls, and the gothic architecture of the ceiling was tall and made of stone, providing even more of a chill in the already frigid room.

His desk was dark and made of solid mahogany, an absinthe lamp standing proud in the corner, as various candles flickered throughout. Rows of books lined the shelves, all of them old and leather bound, filling the office with the musky and comforting smell of aged paper.

It felt homely, yet it was freezing. The dichotomy of those two feelings left you rather stumped.

Joel made his way to his chair, his tight black pants and loose, long sleeved white shirt bellowing beneath the cranked A/C.

Perhaps you were just wet with rain, but you couldn't stop shivering.

"D-Do you run hot, or something?" You finally managed to stutter out, your arms hugging tight around your body as you sat across from him.

The Professor grinned ever so slightly, grabbing a black coat that hung on his tall coat rack, moving to hand it to you. When he got close, his nostrils flared ever so slightly. You watched his knuckles turn white against the collar of the jacket, and you heard him slowly take in a deep breath.

Slowly you looked up, his pupils blown wide with some archaic sort of desire, darkening with every breath he took in. It was as though he was breathing you in. Your thighs clenched tightly as his hand dropped to your shoulder.

Joel looked down at you, blinking slowly, as though he were coming back down to reality from an existential crisis or nerve racking nightmare. A shudder ran down the teachers spine, before he quickly dropped the material in your lap and rushed back to his chair, quickly becoming composed and poised as though nothing else had happened.

What was that about?

Dr. Miller peered at you from across the desk, smoothing out a paper that lay before him. The air was thick with an awkward sort of palpability, and you were scared if you tried to speak, nothing would come out of your mouth, your tongue dry like cotton.

"You said you wanted to meet with me?" He finally asked, his words slow and deep, that familiar Southern drawl clinging to each syllable in a smooth, honeyed sort of way.

"Y-.... yes." Clearing your throat, you somehow managed to sit up straighter, bringing the fleece coat tight upon your shoulders. "My paper."

"The one about vampiric Romanian myths, I assume. What about it?"

"I..." You paused once more, your mouth hanging open at the sheer insanity of what you wished to say next. "I think we should stop calling them myths, Professor."

Your professor chuckled a lovely, warming chuckle, a hand gently running down his stubble covered cheek. "Is that so?" His voice dropped an octave, and you saw his pupils grow dark once more.

With furrowed eyebrows, you began to speak once more. "I researched this extensively, you see. These... these sources, from the 15th century, they're accompanied by various art pieces, debates... I-I even read papal court cases involving humanoid creatures that only hunt at night. All of that-all of it is just a myth? Something doesn't add up to me."

"When studying history, it's important to note that not everything is.... as it seems." He flashed you a smile, and you caught glimpse of an incisor that looked longer than usual, sharper that normal, more imposing than most.

A wave of courage rushed over you at the sight. "Just with history?" Your voice was a whisper, but for the first time that night, it did not waver.

He stood, slowly making his way towards you. Your spine straightened as he pressed against you from behind the chair, his hands slowly falling to your shoulders. His palms were warm, heating the skin of your shoulders, your mind soon forgetting the cold memory of the rain.

"What are you implying?" You looked over to him, your eyes tracing over the golden skin of his hands, rough and calloused by the hand of time. This is the skin of a killer bella.

"Are you..." You took in a defeated sigh, shutting your eyes tightly. "Are you a vampire?" You couldn't believe how stupid you felt, how stupid all of this seemed once you spoke it out loud.

He laughed, and you felt him shifting to match your height, one knee resting on the wooden planks of the floor. "What do you think?" Joel whispered, his nose gently brushing against the skin of your neck.

You took in a sharp breath of air, leaning back against him, slowly turning to face him. "Dr. Miller...."

"What?"

"You're... you're very close to me."

"Do you want me to move? I can."

You shook your head slowly. "No. Don't." And you meant it.

A mischievous smirk fell over his plush lips, and you felt a finger gently tracing down your arm. "That's what I thought. I can see you, you know. The way you act around me, how you beam when I praise you, how you deflate when I walk away from you. I'm not stupid, darlin'. I know what you want, and I can give it to you."

"And what do I want, Professor?"

You could feel the arrogance radiating off of him. "Me." That one word was so infuriatingly attractive, his confidence only making him more desirable, more tempting.

You took in a sharp breath of air, your head falling into his shoulder. You felt his eyes searing in to your jugular, the smooth, taut skin of your neck on display for his chocolate hued eyes.

"How do you know that?"

"I can smell it. Your arousal. Your desire. Your need. All for me. I can make you feel pleasure like no one else can." His words were hot against your skin, and you felt his lips brushing against it with each word he spoke.

If you wanted to lie, you knew you would be unable to, now caught in his words like an animal in a trap. You swallowed thickly, nodding. "Yes." Was all you could say, your tongue dry once more. "But not tonight. I'm-"

"Bleeding?" Joel finished for you, and you were shook by the realization that if anyone in the world would care about that, it certainly wouldn't be him.

"How did you know?"

"I can smell it." You could practically hear the watering of his mouth, the desire which clung to the surface of his syllables. "Surely that wouldn't deter me, if what you've discovered is true. No?"

"No."

"Then let me taste you, let me have you."

"I'm yours." You whispered quietly, eyelids shutting as his mouth attached to your neck, deep kisses pressing in to your exposed flesh, searing hot with the promise of arousal.

"Oh, you always have been, haven't you?" Joel's fingers gently tangled around your tresses of hair, his tongue licking a thick strip across your throat.

"You never answered my question." You whispered out your thoughts as you felt his the sharpness of his teeth.

"I know. But you never answered mine."

"What-.... what question?"

"What do you think I am?"

"You know what I think."

"Do you have proof to back that up?" Dr. Miller's voice was getting cocky now, each word laced with more arrogance than the last.

"I've never seen you in the daylight. Never... never seen you eat or drink anything. You lurk in your office, in the shadows of the classroom. You're not like the other professor's, who are always out and about in the mornings, chattering and drinking coffee." You shut your eyes tightly, your tongue sweeping across your lower lip.

"Say it." He pleaded, words dark and cloudy with desire. "Say what I am."

"You're a vampire."

"You're right."

A shaky breath escaped you, and you slowly opened your eyes to see his mouth slightly open, the sharpness of his fangs exposed to your vision. You turned to face him head on, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering golden flame of the surrounding candles.

He looked so handsome in this light, the shadows that danced across his face only making him more imposing, more alluring. The Professors umber eyes were glued to your features, and you felt a calloused finger trace along the line of your soft jaw, his touch warm and gentle. You shivered at the feeling.

"Will you bite me?"

"Bite... you?"

"Please."

Joel ran his middle finger across your lower lip, a stray strand of hair pushed behind your ear by his slow movements. A sad sort of smile fell over his face. "That's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

He stared at you long and hard, as though he were weighing infinite possibilities within his mind. "If I start, I won't ever want to stop. I'll just keep coming back to you for more and more, it will be an infinite loop. Not to mention what.... well, what will happen to you."

"To me?"

"Eternity is a very long time." His voice turned solemn for a moment, and you nodded in silent understanding.

"How old are you?"

"Very old."

A soft giggle escaped you, and your hands moved to cup his scruffy cheeks. "I always thought vampires were Romanian. Or, Byron-like and British. Like Keanu Reeves."

He chuckled smoothly, shaking his head slowly at your guess. "Not this one. I'm a cowboy, through and through. Always have been, always will be."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and you leaned towards him. "Can this cowboy kiss me?"

"This cowboy'll do whatever you want him to do."

Your eyes fluttered shut as Joel pressed his mouth to yours, a searing kiss burning through your body like an pyre ignited with flames. You moaned at the pleasure that filled your chest, his hands slowly moving to the hem of your damp shirt, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your belly as your kiss deepened. You hooked your leg around the professors waist, pulling him closer until his chest was flush against yours.

"I want more." You moaned out breathlessly, arms hooking around his neck as you pulled away.

"Then I'll give you more."

In one fell swoop he picked you up and placed you on his desk, his sheer strength causing you to yelp in surprise. Joel kissed you as though he would never kissed another, hungrily and passionately, working the buttons of his shirt. When he was done, he stripped you of your own, only pulling away to look upon your naked form.

"You're beautiful. Perfect. Look at you." His eyes drunk in every inch of your exposed chest, and he slowly grabbed the waistline of your jeans, tugging them off of you in one brief movement of his arms.

"You're beautiful." You mumbled, planting your hands on his thick biceps, feeling the strain of his muscles against your touch.

He smirked slightly, yet you caught a glimpse of it, and before you knew it he was down on his knees, his face buried between your thighs. You felt his teeth gently bite into your thighs, not hard enough to break any skin, but enough for you to feel it. You shivered at the pleasure, your fingers tangling into his hair.

You laid back across the desk, legs hooked over his shoulders, as his lips wrapped around your swelling clit, tongue tracing circles over your sensitive button.

You groaned out at the contact, tugging at his curls, trying to bring him even closer to the slick heat of your pussy.

"You're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

All you could do was moan out at his comment, allowing him to drink you all in with every lap of his tongue, every movement of his soft lips.

"I could stay down here for eternity." Joel grumbled, sucking in your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to leave you begging for me.

"Do what you must." You responded through a breathless laugh, shocks of pleasure jolting through your core.

His tongue swept through your folds, collecting your arousal and your blood, the metallic taste of your tang filling his senses with pleasure he never thought was possible. Joel ate your pussy like a starved man. Which, in truth, he really was.

His fingers slowly moved to the entrance of your contracting pussy, and he eased his digits in to the knuckle, hitting against that spot that made you coo with relief. As he slowly began a rhythm with his movements, Joel returned to your clit, making sure it wasn't feeling left out. He sucked and licked, lapped and groaned, your cunt the only thing in the world that he cared about in that moment.

Before you could even think of what was going on, you felt your orgasm brewing within you, and that coil was only growing tighter by the minute. Dr. Miller continued fingering you, adding in a second finger as his tongue traced shapes into your bud, your blood dripping on his chin as he took you all in.

"I'm going to- I'm... Oh, fuck. Professor!" Your orgasm rocked you like a hurricane, waves and waves of tepid bliss filling your mind until his tongue on your skin and his fingers deep inside you were the only thing you could ever remember.

He only pulled away once he licked every drop of your cum and blood up, wiping away the excess with the back of his hand. Joel looked at you darkly, eyes meeting yours, and you noticed the bulge pressing into his trousers.

"Fill me." You whispered, opening your arms to welcome him back to your embrace.

"Oh, I will."

Joel moved to your arms, his hands working at his zipper until he was completely naked in front of you. You traced your palm down the softness of his belly until you had wrapped your own hand around his cock, stiff and aching with the thought of being buried deep inside of you. You guided his leaking mushroom tip to the entrance of your cunt, slowly looking up at him.

"Take me."

"As you wish." He whispered, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he pushed in to you, hands moving to your waist.

He stretched you perfectly, each ridge and vein introducing you to new pleasures you had never felt before. Joel knew how to make you shiver, how to make you moan, and he had never heard anything as beautiful as the sound of his name falling off your pretty lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good. So fuckin' tight for me, so wet." His teeth grazed against the flesh of your collarbone, and you felt his kisses pressing up and in to your neck. He bit down on your skin, much harder than the last time, his incisors tracing perfect lines on the suppleness of your throat.

Your fingers moved to his hair as you cried out his name, cheek falling into the side of his head as he pumped deep in to you. "Fuck me." You begged out breathlessly, his hips against yours growing harder and meaner with each movement.

"You're mine." His words were a growl, his words calming and deep in your ear, his heavy pants with each thrust causing you to whimper.

"I'm yours."

"Good fuckin' girl. Takin' me in." He raised his fingers to your mouth, gently pushing past your lips. "Suck."

You sucked your own orgasm off his flesh, moaning at the taste as he pulled away to watch, his pelvis hitting against yours as he fucked your pussy. A smirk flitted at the corners of his mouth.

"Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed."

You moaned out at the praise, pulling away with a gentle pop.

Joel reached down, easily finding your clit. "Gonna make you cum on my cock. One more time for me. Okay?"

"Okay." You complied happily, laying back on the desk once more as he towered over you, chest coming in to contact with your own as he rubbed and fucked, skilled beyond any sort of measure you had ever experienced before.

"That's my girl. My pretty girl. My strong, smart, clever girl." His words were hot against your throat as he bit you again, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to make himself known.

He had so much power like that, with his teeth right against your flesh. He had your life in his hands, and yet he had no desire to take it. No desire you suck you down to the bone, no desire to curse you with the eternal fate he himself had been left with. Oh, yes. Eternity does sound so romantic to those who have no concept of it, doesn't it? But Joel Miller knew. He knew what forever could do to a man. He knew how lonely it could be.

You were right under his grasp, right there. He could take everything away from you in one bite, with one movement of his teeth. And yet he didn't.

Somehow, knowing this, knowing what he could do to you, only made you want him more. The trust that was there, the respect that lingered with each feeling of his fangs against you, only made you fall harder, deeper, longer.

Your stomach tightened with another climax as you fell back down to reality, and Joel pulled away to look at you, his nose pressing in to your own as your eyes met.

"I'm going to cum again." You whispered, throwing your hands around his shoulders.

"Cum for me then, darlin'. Cum on this dick."

Hearing his voice, deep and smooth and sexy and raw, caused you to come undone, your voice giving out as you cried out silently, pleasure flooding you as your pussy tightened around his cock. Joel followed suit, burying his face in your shoulder as his own orgasm shot through, his seed spilling deep within you, painting your walls white.

His weight pressed down against you as he pulled you closer, allowing your climaxes to calm down before kissed you, his lips rough and cracked against your own.

"Perhaps I should start leaving more comments on your papers." He joked as he pulled away, gently moving to help you dress, your shirt almost dry from the rains previous assault.

"Or I could just keep coming back. Over and over again."

"I would like that." Joel said earnestly, pulling his pants on over his legs.

"I would, too." You smiled up at him, slowly getting off the edge of his desk. "Do you, uh, have any plans tonight?"

"Besides lurking in the shadows and hunting pale virgins? No, not really." Dr. Miller's voice was dry and sarcastic, yet a hint of charming care was evident.

You laughed softly at his joke, looking up at him. "Would you want to do something with me?"

"Like what? I can't exactly take you out to dinner."

Joel relished in the bright smile that stretched across your face. "We could always go for a walk? The rain has stopped."

He peered out the window, the silver light of the moon flooding in through the sheer curtains. "Then it's a date."

"Yes. A date."

And as you two walked, hand in hand through the dense forest of autumn, and as the distant waves of the ocean crashed in and out of ear shot, you wondered what could possibly be so bad about eternity if it were spent with him. Perhaps you could get used to these late night walks. Perhaps you would yearn for them for the rest of your life, however long that may be.

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bunji-enthusiast · 2 months

Note

Pssttt, I heard you were looking for some ideas for the insomniac cat. I got a idea that's been cooking fresh off the stove for you. Catnap has been taking care of a child he found still alive after hour of joy. Simply because unlike most of the kids he would always see in playcare, they weren't scared of him when they first saw him. Following this for background information. The day of the hour of joy was their first day in playcare, so they first saw him all covered in blood after the events of the hour of joy, and yet the reader just ran up to him cutely calling him a kitty as they cling to one his fluffy long legs. Giving catnap a soft spot for them, leading him to start taking care of the child. In present day catnap starts to notice how they haven't slept in days, the cat starts getting slightly concerned so he decides to use the red smoke on the reader so they would sleep. Though for the sake of the idea he isn't aware of the nightmares that the red smoke gives children, so when they start kicking and crying in their sleep the cat starts to panic slightly in his own way while trying to wake them up. Using any means he can to, once they wake up catnap just curls up around them like a fluffy protector vowing to himself in his head he won't use the red smoke on them again. I'm sorry this is long just had this idea cooking in my head for awhile, I hope your having a great day!

Trying To Dream

Note || oh this punched me in the GUT.

WC || 1,086

Sypnosis || In trying times, a cat does the best he can.

It was quite strange, since he had first found you. By no means was CatNap a stranger of caring for children, but you were uniquely different. You were just that, a child with no actual perception of the reality you had been faced with. At that, he felt a pang of guilt for suddenly plunging you into this place without any adult caretakers first and foremost. But he felt they had greatly deserved their place, to rest in the Hour Of Joy.

When it had all taken place, he himself had rampaged alongside the other toys on his level. Even abolishing the Heretics that went against the Prototype’s rule, he simply was very thorough, cats are naturally akin to being able to notice and spot things. Not a single human soul had escaped his sight.

Yet it seemed he was practically proven wrong when you appeared in front of his very eyes, despite being covered in blood – you were enamored by CatNap.

CatNap’s tail swished and flicked about, prowling right behind his trail as he stopped suddenly in his designated tracks, hearing something out of his vision. “Kitty!” He looked down to see you running up to him, clinging to one of his elongated legs. He was confused for a moment, yet you appeared to be so adorable in his eyes.

Completely oblivious to what had occurred it seemed, you only saw CatNap. A very large kitty, but someone familiar to you. You wanted to cling to that warmth, the familiarity as you were a little nervous and scared before.

CatNap sets everything right for you, to your tiny little mind. Just a small child full of emotions, he felt so strongly in return. A tiny corner in the room of his hardened heart had grown soft, he grew soft at the sight of you. An instinctive familial urge in him to actually want to take care of you.

His head drew closer to the ground, hoping to get your attention. You giggle and smile, keeping onto his fur, instantaneously reminding him of all the children that he saw that came and went in Playcare. He wanted to protect that laughter, that absolute perfect smile of yours.

You laugh, shuffling over to where CatNap’s head had hung, patting the area around his mouth and eyes. He wiggled and shuffled his head just a bit, hoping to at least draw some sort of reaction out of you (just so he can realize he wasn’t dreaming), “Oh, you look funny Kitty!” You grin, hands clamoring to his neck now. CatNap knew he was sure of it now, you didn’t seem to be panicking or in distress. Nothing of the sort he could indicate, you really were just happy to see him, simply it may be because of the fact he is a cat. By the way you react to him, you really liked cats, so this was an advantage on his part.

You weren’t scared of CatNap at all, that he was grateful for internally. Cause good grief, some memories of the children he had put to sleep before had left them with a bad impression of CatNap.

He didn’t want that happening with you.

CatNap’s tail stretched and stretched, wriggling its way over to you. You giggle at the funny sight, sitting down on the ground as you try to catch it, though it seems to have caught you instead. The tail wrapped around your waist, lifting you up with easing and laying you on the large purple kitty’s back.

“Ahaha! Maybe I should call you…” You pause for a moment, leaving CatNap to be silently concerned due to the length. “Stretchy kitty!” CatNap internally shrugs, leaving no room to be made as he began walking with you on his back, he was painfully aware of you as he didn’t want you falling off on accident.

CatNap in earnest has lost track of how long he had been taking care of you since you two had first met, you really had taken a liking to him.

Yet he took notice very quickly of the lack of sleep you didn’t have for the past few days, not getting the proper sleep and care a human needs can affect one detrimentally. He knows this too, remembering this from experience.

CatNap slinked through the entrance to his room, seeing that you were still at his bed doing your own things. Right now, you were drawing with crayons on a piece of parchment paper that he could find that wasn’t completely ruined. You were quite happy, content.

Your eyes seemed to be so sunken, your energy was low however. CatNap figured it was one of those days where you had a sudden burst of energy to do things. He figured he can help, CatNap knows his gas can put people to sleep.

So that is what he had absolved for, releasing the gas right around the room in your general vicinity. You had gotten so used to the feel of his presence you never looked up at him, just continuing to draw until you had felt very sleepy. Eyes closing and limbs go limp as you fell sideways, CatNap caught you with a swift movement of his tail, laying you gently on his bed.

He quickly went to find a blanket to cover you with, gently draping it over your small form. For a moment, you were silent, finally peaceful to actually get some sleep for the first time in days. Only then did CatNap have the morbid realization of what the side-effects of his Poppy Gas does.

All was peaceful for a good thirty minutes, until a cry broke him out of his nap. He looked around, then noticed your little legs and arms flailing about, not violently but noticeable enough to begin drawing concern from CatNap. He felt a pang of guilt bubble in his chest, nudging you almost roughly enough to get you to awaken.

Your cries was something he didn’t want to hear again, his own gas caused you nightmares at the risk of just wanting you to actually get some sleep.

“Ah, kitty!” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as you cuddle up to CatNap. He in turn returns the sentiment, ears somehow pinned back just possibly enough to understand the emotion. CatNap folds in on both his front and hind legs, laying down completely.

From then on, there wasn’t a chance he was going to use the gas on you again.

Not if it meant nightmares.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #catnap poppy playtime #catnap

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totowlff · 7 months

Text

chapter thirty-nine — saving a horse

➝ elisabeth and toto celebrate another title, in texan style.

➝ word count: 2,5k

➝ warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, elisabeth being hornier than horner

➝ author’s note: race week in texas deserves a flashback to the day elisabeth decided to save a horse. i hope they haven't given up on this madness here.

OCTOBER, 2017

Sitting in the jet seat, Elisabeth didn't have the courage to take off the sunglasses she had been wearing since she left the hotel suite on her way to the airport. Her head was throbbing as well as her body. Opening the bottle of water she had in her hand, she took a small sip, trying to ward off the queasiness that was plaguing her.

— Are you okay, Mauslein? — Niki asked, her blue eyes staring at her over the newspaper he was reading. Elisabeth just nodded.

— Was the party good yesterday? — he questioned.

She nodded again, which made Niki smirk.

— Have you had too much to drink?

— No — Elisabeth muttered.

— Are you sure?

She remained silent.

She had had too much to drink.

But was there any other way to celebrate an achievement like the one on Sunday?

As soon as Lewis crossed the finish line the previous afternoon, the team's garage exploded. Those were the points that were missing for the team to win another constructor's championship. The fourth title in a row. Another result of long days at the office, sleepless nights, and endless hours in the private jet. Elisabeth's excitement made her not hesitate to pull Toto, who was beside her, greeting Niki, into a completely passionate kiss. Feeling his hands wrap around her waist, she was sure his lips tasted different from usual.

A taste of mission accomplished.

After the podium ceremony, photos in front of the garage, and a quicker-than-usual debrief, Elisabeth and Toto returned to the hotel amidst jokes, laughter, and kisses that tasted like champagne, since both had been soaked by the mechanics during the celebration in front of the press.

Once in the suite, the two of them got into the shower together, with him insisting on washing her hair with a gentleness that could melt any determination she had not to go to bed with him in that exact second. However, Elisabeth bravely resisted her own desire. They would have all the time in the world later.

After getting dressed, the two went down to the hotel lobby, where the driver hired by them was already waiting to take them to the place chosen for the team celebration, in a themed bar that the team already knew from other celebrations, called Pete's Dueling Piano Bar. They got out of the car hand in hand, crossing the street quickly towards the establishment.

As soon as the two entered the bar, the atmosphere was filled with applause and whistles, a welcome worthy of four-time world champions. Looking at Toto, Elisabeth felt something warm rise inside her chest. The way the top of his nose crinkled, his dimples became more pronounced, and his eyes sparkled made her feel even more accomplished with the day's achievement.

As a witness to all the effort, dedication, and love he put into the team, she knew exactly what Toto gave up every week in pursuit of results. And she admired him deeply. So deeply that she felt she didn't express it often enough. So deeply that she couldn't resist the urge to squeeze his hand, drawing his attention.

— Any problem? — he asked, bringing his face close to hers.

— No. I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you.

Toto smiled widely.

— I'm proud of you too, Liesl — he replied — Very proud.

Elisabeth would have kissed him passionately if not for the arrival of Andy, who had approached them holding a beer and inviting them to his table. Being led by Toto through the apparent crowd inside the bar, they were stopped and greeted several times before arriving at a table crammed into the corner of the bar.

Around it, drinking beer and laughing, were James, Andrew and Aldo, as well as Bono and Tony. They seemed to discuss something related to what had happened during the celebration, still on the circuit. Spotting the two arriving with Andy, the men rose to give warm hugs and congratulations to the two.

— Would you like a beer, Toto?

— Oh, sure — he replied, with a smile — Would you like it too, baby?

— Yes, I do.

Elisabeth had always prided herself on being low-key when it came to alcohol. However, she didn't know if the cheerful environment, the excitement of having won another title, or even the veiled encouragement from her colleagues made her lose count of how much she had drunk after the third long neck, followed by the gin and tonic that Valtteri had convinced her to try.

However, what made Elisabeth realize she was a little more uninhibited than usual was that, after an upside-down shot of tequila next to Angela, she thought it would be a good idea to go on stage to sing 'Man! I Feel Like a Woman’ along with the physiotherapist, complete with a cowboy hat that had been handed over to her by one of the mechanics and some sensual hip movements, her eyes fixed on the only person she wanted to want her.

Toto was watching her from a distance, seeming to enjoy that uninhibited version of her. With the baby blue shirt he was wearing with one more button opened, his skin glistened slightly with sweat, the result of the crowded environment and the alcohol that warmed his body and flushed his cheeks.

He was a real temptation. And Elisabeth was willing to sin that night.

As she descended from the stage to applause, she walked up to the team principal with a determined look under her cowboy hat. Biting his bottom lip, Toto watched her with desire shining in his eyes. As she stopped in front of him, Elisabeth felt a large hand slide around her waist to her lower back, which made her skin heat even more.

— I enjoyed your show, cowgirl — he murmured, a mischievous grin on his face.

— Did you like it?

— A lot. You were incredibly hot up there — Toto said, before his hand slid to her ass, burying his face in Elisabeth's neck to place a kiss on her slightly sweaty skin. Feeling his lips brushing just below her earlobe made her feel almost feverish, as well as tingling below her navel. Something in the back of her mind told her she should have taken the chance in the shower and had sex with him, however much the logistics required them to get a little creative.

— I want you — Elisabeth whispered.

Toto looked up at her, their noses brushing.

— Now?

— Yeah.

— Elisabeth — he murmured, in a tone that mixed scolding and desire.

— Please — she begged, her hands sliding over his shoulders to Toto's face, her thumbs brushing against his skin, which was also warm — I want you so much, my love.

Seeming to have regained the ability to breathe, he took Elisabeth's hand and led her through the crowd toward the back of the bar. Testing a handle, he opened one door that was squeezed there and pulled her in with little delicacy, which made her giggle. Turning on the light, she realized they were in a small bathroom with a sink and toilet crammed in there.

After closing the door and turning the key in the lock, Toto turned to her and walked closer, wrapping his arms around her body. The mixture of alcohol and his musky scent was intoxicating, not to say addictive, to Elisabeth.

She needed that man like she needed air to breathe.

The two didn't exchange a word before they started kissing each other voraciously and a little awkwardly. There were traces of lemon in his mouth, which mixed with the taste of the drink and something that was uniquely his. Clinging to Toto's neck, Elisabeth let herself be carried away by his soft lips, completely inebriated.

Feeling her back hit the tiled bathroom wall, it took her a while to realize what he was doing. Releasing her waist, Toto's hands slipped down towards the hem of the dress she was wearing. Then, placing kisses along her neck and sternum, he knelt down in front of her, his fingers pulling the panties she was wearing awkwardly, almost hastily, until the garment was wrapped around her shins. He didn't have to say anything for Elisabeth to kick the fabric carelessly into a corner, while Toto lifted the dress and, with no ceremony, brought his face to the point between her legs.

— Fuck — he said through clenched teeth as his tongue explored her pussy delicately, almost as if he were tasting how turned on she was. And just that simple exploration could make her melt like ice cream under the Ibiza summer sun.

With one hand sliding over his head, Elisabeth gripped the strands of his hair tightly, moans escaping her lips and echoing through the cubicle. Her shyness was long gone, leaving only the extroverted and completely mischievous version of her behind. And if that version of her could bring that version of Toto out, she was willing to drink that way more often. Opening her eyes with difficulty, Elisabeth found his eyes fixed on hers; the pupils dilated as one of his hands gripped her hip tightly, the knuckles white.

— Toto — she gasped in response to the flick of his tongue around her clit, a kind of tease. However, just when Elisabeth thought he was finally going to touch her where she needed to be, he pulled his face away slightly, a mischievous smile on his lips.

— I could hear you moan my name all day, baby — Toto said as he draped one of her legs over his shoulder, exposing her pussy even more to him. Then, with a smile, he teased her with his tongue again, making Elisabeth throw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut.

From their first night together, she knew what Toto could do to take her to the height of pleasure. It was as if he had read her instruction manual and followed exactly what was there to please her. He knew how to lick, suck, nibble, and touch using just the right pressure and speed, always concerned with making her feel comfortable and, above all, loved. And with his face between her thighs, Elisabeth felt completely loved.

So loved that she was already speaking words with no sense.

— This… Like this, this… Please, please, fuck — she was saying as she moved her hips erratically, her mouth open, and her back arched — This, this… Fuck, Torger...

She felt a vibration come from his lips, as if he were laughing at what Elisabeth had just said. However, his reaction didn't make her angry or frustrated, but closer to the orgasm, which already clouded her mind and made her muscles tense even more. Then, with no warning, the wave of pleasure hit her, powerful and overwhelming, causing the leg that supported Elisabeth to give way. Had it not been for her leaning on the sink next to her, as well as Toto's hands holding her, she probably would have collapsed on top of him.

Panting and her body still shaking from the aftershocks, she felt her heart pounding, her heavy breathing the only sound inside the cubicle. Elisabeth's eyes were still lost on the ceiling when she felt her other leg being lowered, her foot touching the floor, and, at the same time, nothingness. It was like she was still floating.

— All good? — asked Toto, right below her.

Elisabeth didn't answer, her mind seeming to wrap around the feeling that was taking over the pit of her stomach. It was something she had never felt after an orgasm, but it wasn't all that strange. Suddenly, the environment inside the bathroom felt too hot, and she felt her body momentarily unbalanced. And then her mouth filled with saliva.

— Liesl? — he asked again.

She barely had time to push Toto back before she crouched down in front of the toilet before dumping everything she had drunk and eaten out violently, with no ceremony. After what seemed like an eternity, Elisabeth finally lifted her head, her arm resting on the tile.

— Are you fine, baby? — he asked, brushing her hair back from her face as Elisabeth sat down on the tiled floor.

— I guess — she mumbled before another wave of nausea hit her, causing her to throw up again. When Elisabeth felt that there was nothing left to leave her stomach, she looked up again to find Toto holding her hair, his eyes full of concern.

— Are you better now?

— Yeah — she replied, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

Silence stretched between them for long seconds, while Elisabeth concentrated on her own breathing, trying to push away the discomfort.

— You've definitely crossed the line today, baby.

— You think? — she asked, her tone somewhere between irony and naivety.

— As the most ill-behaved man in Vienna, I'm sure — Toto replied with a smirk.

— Have you ever puked at a party?

— More times than I should.

She gave a shy, almost embarrassed smile as he tucked strands of hair behind her ear. There was something intimate about that moment, almost as if Elisabeth was revealing yet another layer of herself to him. The most inconsequential and probably doubtful layer of herself. And yet, Toto was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and not some woman who had drunk more than her body could handle and let it all out. That thought made her remember something else.

Or rather, someone else.

— Toto?

— Yeah?

— Don't tell my dad I threw up.

— Liesl — he sighed, seeming to stifle a laugh.

— He won't let me drink anymore if you say I threw up.

— And you want to keep drinking?

— At least at celebrations — she said softly — No one has fun while drinking orange juice.

— Yes, that's true — Toto said, laughing, which made Elisabeth laugh. Silence returned to the bathroom after they stopped.

— Aren't you going to tell?

— No, my love, don't worry — he murmured before helping her to her feet and taking her to the front of the bar to take a taxi back to the hotel.

Upon arriving at the suite, they practically passed out on the bed, waking up only the next day. However, while Toto only looked like he'd had an awful night's sleep, Elisabeth felt like she'd been hit by a truck. And it was obvious that her father had noticed.

— I'm fine — she replied, before taking another sip of water. Niki wasn't convinced.

— Toto, did she drink yesterday?

Elisabeth looked to the side, praying that he would remember what she had said to him on that bathroom floor.

— Yes, Niki.

— More than she should?

— No. Just a few beers and a gin and tonic that Valtteri offered her.

Niki pressed his lips together, looking uncertain.

— Did she throw up?

Elisabeth's heart was pounding hard inside her chest.

— Of course not. She's a responsible woman, she would never do that to herself — Toto replied, before taking her hand, his thumb stroking her skin lightly.

— She must be — he muttered back, before returning his attention to the newspaper he was reading.

A few seconds later, Elisabeth squeezed his hand and mouthed a “thank you”, getting a mischievous smile back. In that moment, she was certain he would always have her back.

#toto wolff #wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #toto wolff x oc #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #f1 x oc #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #scwlff

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noisynaia · 2 years

Text

Pure and Simple

[Frankie Morales x Reader]

summary: It is almost four months since you met Frankie, but there is still one thing you haven't told him yet. Frankie has something he wants to ask you. (Mostly just fluff and sweet, soft morning sex.)

word count: 3.1k

rating: E

pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader

note: Can be read alone, but is the sequel to Two Doors Down. Cunnilingus. Unprotected P in V (with use of contraception (please wrap it irl!)). No use of (y/n). The reader uses she/her pronouns. Reader is shorter than Frankie (he lifts her), but no other physical descriptions are used. This has not been beta-read and English is not my native language. (18+ minors, please don't interact)

crossposted on ao3

The Dolly Series Masterlist

My main masterlist

You scrunch your nose with a soft grunt as the beam of golden light hits your face, it’s early Saturday morning. You love spending time at Frankie’s place, but he seriously needs to get some blackout curtains.

You look over at him, he is seemingly completely undisturbed by the bright morning light seeping through the blinds, it’s given his brown curls a golden glow. His chest slowly rises with his soft snores, he always looks so peaceful when he sleeps. You want to comb your fingers through his soft-looking hair, he is a heavy sleeper, but you still resist your urge in case it would wake him.

You lie like this for a while. Enjoying the lavender smell on the sheets from Frankie’s laundry detergent, while listening to the soft sleep sounds from Frankie and the faint birdsong that seep through the window. It’s almost four months since you met him at Benny’s party, but you still haven't gotten used to how lucky you are to wake up next to him like this. You have never been in a relationship like this before, Frankie is so sweet and considerate, he still sometimes feels too good to be true. You really love him, and you think he might love you too. You have almost let it slip a few times but have not had the courage to do so yet. You have never been in a relationship that felt so right before and you don’t want to mess it up.

…Every time I think about you

I get chills along my spine

It's a feelin' I'm not used to

Can't believe you're really mine…

You tiptoe out of the bedroom. You’re only wearing your panties and one of Frankie’s t-shirts as you sneak down the stairs

You go to the fridge to get ingredients to make pancakes, and smile at the drawings hanging on the fridge door, made by Frankie’s young daughter. They are mostly just colourful scribbles with ‘Solana’ and the date they were drawn written in the corner of the paper in Frankie’s handwriting.

You gather the rest of the ingredients and begin to mix the batter in the quiet kitchen. You are about halfway done with the pancakes when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Frankie is standing in the doorway rubbing his eyes, his voice sounding hoarse from sleep, messy morning hair framing his face. He walks over to you, sneaking his arms around you to hug you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. You lean back into him, feeling warm and sheltered in his embrace, like you were made to perfectly fit in his arms.

“Good morning, Cisco.” You lean your cheek against his hair as he leaves a peck on your collarbone.

You stand like this for a while, a pleasant silence, Frankie's arms wrapped around you as you add to the growing stack of pancakes.

“I’ll set the table.” He finally says, but he doesn’t move for another long minute.

He kisses your cheek before finally letting you go to get plates from the cupboard behind you. You love mornings like this, the kitchen smelling of fresh pancakes and the coffee Frankie had set over to brew. Frankie is humming the title melody for one of Sole’s favourite cartoons, you don’t think he even realises that he does it. The sound mixed with the bubbling sound of the coffee boiling. You can’t hold back your smile. You have not met Frankie’s daughter yet, but you hold so much love for the little girl already. She is a part of Frankie and you love every part of him.

…Other loves, so complicated

Broken hearts and twisted minds

Then you came, and I'm elated

So unlike the other times…

The pancakes are delicious if you do say so yourself, and Frankie confirms it to you multiple times throughout the meal. You eat and talk, enjoying each other’s company and the domesticity that only a quiet Saturday morning can bring. You finish eating and begin to bring back the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

You end up talking about your plans for the week to come. You’re talking about your work schedules, and planning a movie date Thursday night.

“What about the weekend, got any plans?” Frankie asks.

The question is normal enough in itself. Frankie has 20/80 custody of his daughter, meaning he has her every other weekend. It makes sense he asks you what you will be up to while he spends his weekend with Sole, just out of simple quoriosity and politeness, but there is something in the tone of his voice that you can’t place, nervousness perhaps?

“I was supposed to have dinner and drinks with Mary on Friday night, but she had to cancel. That was my only plans, probably just going to start a new book and unwind, why?”

“I was thinking… Maybe, you would like to come over?”

“You know I always love spending time with you but aren’t you going to have Sole next week?” You ask a little confused.

“Yes, but I was wondering if you might want to come anyway?” He clearly is nervous, but the next part comes with so much certain and sincerity. “I would like you to meet her.”

Your stomach drops. He wants you to be introduced to his daughter?!��

Your relationship with Frankie has been good from the start, he has been so understanding and thoughtful. You have been taking things slow, both wanting to do this right since you both have tried to be burned in your past. You know Frankie had been in a dark place before, but had been able to turn his life around, he still have bad days sometimes though.

You have no doubt that the way you have decided to go about your relationship is the right, but sometimes the slowness can make you a little insecure. The two of you haven’t said 'I love you' yet. Frankie telling you he wants you to meet his daughter is, however, the closest you can think he could come without actually saying it.

Frankie loves his daughter more than anything on this earth and him wanting you to meet her means that he is serious about the two of you, that he plans of having you as a close part of his life. Him telling you this is maybe even more intimate than a love confession.

You feel the corner of your eyes getting stingy from overwhelming happiness.

“Will Corinne be okay with it?” You croak.

You don’t want to disrespect or overstep any lines with Solana’s mother.

“Yeah, I already spoke with her about it actually. She is fine with it.” He tells.

You can’t keep a toothy smile from spreading on your face.

“I would love to come and meet her then.”

Frankie mirrors your smile, clearly relieved and happy from your apparent excitement. He steps towards you and crashes his lips on yours, he starts out by kissing you sweetly, but the soft kiss is quickly turning heated.

…It's so pure, it's almost sacred

Simply put, it feels divine

I just love you, pure and simple

Pure and simple and sublime…

Frankie grabs you around your waist and helps you jump up the counter. He steps between your spread legs, keeping one hand on your hip and letting the other rest on your thigh.

“Come here.” You whisper as you snake your arms around his torso, connecting your lips in a kiss.

He hums into your lips with delight, drawing circles on your thigh with his thumb. The sensation sends chills up your spine as well as starts a fire of desire in your lower stomach. You open your mouth a little more, giving Frankie enough space to deepen the kiss.

Picking you up from your seat on the counter. His big hands are securely planted under your thighs, as he begins to carry you to the stairs.

“Cisco, your back!” You shriek in protest.

“Please let me.” His voice is so low and husky that you can’t deny him his wish, but manage to persuade him to let you walk up the stairs yourself. He is quick to scoop you up again when you reach the top, picking you up bridal style. You can’t help but giggle as he carries you back to his bedroom.

“I think the couch would have sufficed.” You chuckle.

“Like having you in my bed.” He says as he pushes his bedroom door open with his hip.

He gently lays you down on the bed, the golden morning light still shining through the blinds, but not landing directly on the bed anymore. You enjoy the view of him standing by the bed, tall and broad and yours. You can’t help but think that. He has not been a part of your life for that long, but you can’t imagine life without him now. It would be scary, maybe should be scary, but when he told you that he wants you to meet his daughter you knew that he intended for you to stay in his life for a long time. The thought almost brings you to tears.

“Come here.” You whisper for the second time this morning, suddenly impatient, needing him closer.

He crawls onto the bed, placing an arm on each side of you. He is hovering over you, his warm brown eyes that you love so much looking into yours. You lift your hand up to his cheek, lightly stroking your thumb along his cheek bow before he grabs it, softly guiding it to his mouth to plant a kiss on your palm.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers into your skin.

You lift your legs up, crossing them around his waist, you need him closer. Luckily, he's happy to oblige to your wish, lowering himself down over you, and connecting your lips again.

You sneak a hand under his shirt, stroking the warm skin on his back with your fingertips, your other hand buried in his hair. You love weekends like this, no plans and no place you have to be, it’s just you and Frankie. And now it seems that you can spend more of your weekends with him. It is, of course, going to be different with Sole around, but you don’t mind that. You love Frankie and you know that you are gonna love his little girl too. The only thing that worries you is if she is going to like you or not, but you try not to worry about that now.

This moment is just Frankie and yours. You break the kiss to get a breath of air, Frankie takes this opportunity to pull his shirt over his head and discharge it on the floor. He has gotten more comfortable around you with his own body than in the beginning. He has, in your eyes, nothing to be insecure about, he is so beautiful both on the inside and the outside. You make sure to tell him as often as you can, as well as show him just how attractive you find him.

You follow his lead, taking off the shirt Frankie had lent you to sleep in. Frankie is crashing down on you again, kissing you with a hunger that makes your cunt throb.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispers against your lips as he squeezes one of your, now-exposed, breasts with his large hand. You moan out in pleasure.

He breaks from your lips, beginning to kiss down your jaw and neck. Lowering himself down your body, kissing your collarbone and down your sternum, leaving wet kisses in the valley between your breasts. He continues down your stomach until he gets to the band of your panties.

He looks up at you. “Can I take these off, sweetheart?”

“Please, do.” You whisper.

He kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding the panties down your legs.

“Wanna taste you.” He mutter. “Can I, baby?” He looks up at you, his eyes have become dark with passion.

“Yeah.” You croak.

He keeps holding eye contact with you as he positions himself between your thighs. You spread your legs more, offering him more space to operate, giving him a full view of your wet pussy.

“God, you’re so gorgeous.” He sighs before lowering his head, kissing up your inner thigh until he reaches your pussy. He slides his tongue through your wet folds, lapping into you hungrily.

“Fuck, Cisco…” You whine out, his tongue has you seeing stars. You bury your hands in his hair, grabbing fistfuls of soft curls.

He moans against your cunt, as your grab on his hair tightens, the vibrations giving you chills. He moves his tongue to suck down on your clit and you can’t help but arch your back upwards. You keep whining out his name. His tongue starts to work even harder as your grip on his hair tightens again. He keeps going with an insatiable hunger.

You can’t hold your orgasm back any longer.

“Fuck, Frankie!” You wail.

Frankie keeps licking into you as your cunt clenches and your legs begin to shake. Your body fills with bliss as your climax washes over you in hot waves.

…Don't it seem we've spent a lifetime

Looking for that perfect love?

Like a dream, we finally found it

Pure and simple; well, good for us…

Frankie takes in a heavy breath as he finally detaches his mouth from your pussy.

“Shit, baby. You always taste so good, can’t get enough of you.”

He climbs up over your body, kissing your lips softly, giving you a taste of yourself, his lips plump and wet with your slickness. You press your tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around you. You kiss him until your lungs are empty and you have to break apart to breathe. His eyes are blown wide with passion and tenderness. You get a lump in your throat at the sight of it. He is so sweet and so good, you still sometimes can’t believe he is even real, let alone, that you get to be with him.

You bury your face in his neck, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the eye contact. You’re scared that you are gonna burst from the love you’re feeling. You decide to distract yourself by focusing on leaving wet kisses on his throat that has Frankie moaning your name. You begin to suck down on his pulse point. You want to leave a hickey, want to mark him as yours.

You can feel his hard cock through the thin fabric of his pyjama pants and you feel the throbbing in your cunt and the fiery feeling in your abdomen getting enlightened.

“Francisco, I need you inside me.” You whisper into his neck.

“Fuck…” He murmurs “Need to be inside of you, sweetheart.”

He gets up to sit on his knees, sliding down his pants and boxers. His cock springs up, hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with precum. The view sends quivers through your pussy. You gather the pillows behind you in a pile, without taking your eyes off him, leaning back into their softness. You spread your legs out

“Oh, so wet, baby.” He coos at the view of your soaking pussy on free display. “You always get so wet for me, you’re driving me crazy.”

Sitting back on his calf, he pops his middle and index finger in his mouth before slipping them through your folds.

“You are so beautiful.” He pants. “My sweet beautiful girl.”

“Frankie.” You moan as he slips his fingers into you. Pumping them slowly in and out, taking his time prepping you. You love how thorough he is, but you don’t have the patience for it right now.

“Cisco.” You whimper. “Need your cock...”

“Need you too, sweetie.” He answers “Wanna be buried in this pretty pussy of yours.”

Frankie lowers himself over you. He kisses your lips as he starts to slide into you.

You feel how your walls stretch as he slips in. You grab the sheets in your fists, clutching the fabric tightly.

“You are so perfect… Fuck, you have no idea.” He sights as he finally is all the way in.

He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to him for a moment, kissing you passionately in the meantime, and fuck you love it - you love him.

He finally begins to move, starting out slowly, but he is quick to pick up the paste as you moan out with more and more desperation.

He keeps moving into you, sweet words of encouragement whispered into your skin.

Your entire body is on fire. His name is falling from your lips. He hooks his hand behind your knee to lift your leg up, the new position allows him to thrust deeper into you. This new angle is amazing.

“Yes, Frankie! Yes, right there! Fuck, right there…” You shriek, the pleasure you are feeling is reaching a new high.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…” You moan, feeling your climax building up in the pit of your stomach.

“I know, baby, me too.” Frankie groans

You push your head back into the pillows and arch your back as walls squeeze hard around him. Your name keeps falling from his lips along with praise.

“Inside, Cisco, need you inside.” It had been heaven since you and Frankie had had ‘the talk’ and started fucking without condom, after ensuring you both were clean and you on the pill. You love the feeling of him filling you up.

You are pushed over the edge as Frankie thrusts into you, coating your walls with his warmth as he cums inside you. Euphoria washes over you, your body feeling light and shaky as Frankie keeps fucking you.

You can’t hold it back anymore

“Cisco… fuck! I… I love you.”

…It's so pure it's almost sacred

Simply put, it feels divine

I just love you, pure and simple

Pure and simple, sweet and fine…

You feel Frankie freeze up on top of you, and your stomach drops.

You hadn’t meant to say it, not now, not like this. The words just slipped out, but they have been on the tip of your tongue for a while now.

He locks his eyes with yours, pupils wide and mouth slightly agape

“You do..?” He whispers.

“Yeah, I do…” No need to shy away from the truth now.

“I love you too.” His voice is so tender and sincere, it makes your heart flutter. He crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you with such tenderness.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He whispers against your lips. “Love you so much.”

He loves you… Franciso Morales loves you.

“I love you so much, Frankie.” You say before melting into another love-filled kiss.

You can’t believe how lucky you are.

…I just love you, pure and simple

Can't believe you're really mine…

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier

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filcoco · 1 month

Text

Another AU, I called it home-swap AU. Ominis was born in Sallow with his twin sister Anne. Sebastian, on the other hand, was born in the House of Gaunt.

I drew this concept months ago. My drawing skill was way worse at that time. I can't grasp the facial features of Sebastian and Omnis; I think I have some improvement, but there is still a long way to go.

The short story for this AU is Sebastian is the perfect kid for Gaunts; he loves dark magic, and he is good at it. So, his parents thought he was the future of the family. They used Seb’s siblings to test him, force him to duel them, and the loser would get the taste of Crucio. Sebastian never loses, so his siblings hate him. His parents never love him either. They only spoil him. He had only been cared for by his aunt Noctua, but she went missing. He got no friend, because other families are scared of Gaunts; they all think Gaunt are loonies.

This Sebastian is arrogant, cold, calculating, spoiled and ruthless. He doesn't believe in friendship; he only believes in power and threat. Until he met the Sallow twins.

Ominis and Anne lost their parent very young and were taken in by their Uncle Solomon. Although the family is not close, they respect each other. Ominis follows his uncle and has very strong moral feelings against dark magic. He is the opposite of Sebastian, which attracts Sebastian to him. And in some circumstances, they became friends.

Ominis only sorted to Slytherin because his sister was sorted to it. That’s what he believes.

Twins and Sebastian are very close. Sebastian stayed at Sallow House for summer and winter breaks. He never returned home until Anne got cursed. He is more urged to cure Anne than Anne’s twin brother. He can't afford to lose them. They are his humanity and conscience.

But Ominis does not understand Sebastian’s actions and gets angry at his friend’s growing interest in Dark Arts. Their friendship is shaking and gets worse when the new fifth-year attending Hogwarts.

The new fifth-year, Leon, is a muggle-born but inherited a big fortune from an ancient wizard pureblood family. Usually, Sebastian doesn't care about blood status, but he is angry to see Ominis take in Leon as his new friend, like replacing him and Anne.

That’s not acceptable for Sebastian.

So he picked on Leon on the first day of school and got his butt kicked. Nobody kicks Mister Gaunt’s royal butt, so Sebastian starts plotting something against Leon. But somehow, Leon always knows what he is planning and stays safe.

He tried to be friendly, shared his family secrets and helped Leon find those portraits. He started finding value in Leon’s ability and used Leon in search cure for Anne. Ominis noticed what he was doing and tried to talk some sense into him.

Sebastian became deeply jealous of Leon and finally thought to kill him at the Slytherin Scriptorium. He invites Ominis and Leon to help him find his Aunt and anything from Slytherin’s spellbook to cure Anne.

However, Leon knows what Sebastian is planning to do to him; Leon is a Legilimens, and he can read minds. However, he still went on with Sebastian and Ominis. Leon saw the pain and worries in Ominis, and felt Sebastian’s large void in his heart. Leon wanted to help them, so he stayed.

And basically, this is the setting for that chapter in my fanfic. Haven't explored more from it, or maybe I should?

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc

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whiteredrose13 · 6 months

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So, I haven't written fanfic in a long time, and it's been even longer since I've posted it. But, oh my god, this fucking AU--

Do you know how long it's been since a piece of media has captivated my ADHD brain into doing more than drawing or just thinking about it really hard?? And then for an offshoot of that media to rot my brain just as badly??

Anyway, all this to say, @somerandomdudelmao I love your AU and I literally cannot stop thinking about it, it's consumed my waking thoughts. Donnie and Leo's reunion has me in a death grip.

(Apologies for any spelling/grammar errors, wrote this on my phone with very little sleep.)

Donnie is going to kill him all over again when this is over.

Mumbling, cursing, Donatello walks the surface of the spiritual lake, stray drops of glowing blue falling up around him. It's been hours. At least, it feels like it's been hours. Donnie knows time dilation is one hell of a drug, that what feels like hours to him may only be minutes–seconds, even–to anyone on the outside. He also knows that he's never had an ounce of patience for pointless tedium in his life, which is really not helping. That does not, however, negate the fact that his feet hurt, and it's fucking cold, and no matter how far he walks there's no sign of Leo–

Stubborn, selfless, reckless, candle-in-the-wind, dum-dum Leonardo!

Of course he'd be the hardest to resurrect! Donatello isn't sure why he had expected otherwise. His twin has always been the most grating individual he's ever met; Leo lived to spite him. It only makes sense that he'd make Donnie jump through hoop after hoop to save him. First his soul being barely more than an ember, weak against even the barest breath and aggravatingly flighty, and now this.

Growling, Donnie hunches slightly, staring ahead into the endless distance.

“Leo!” He screams, the sound echoing far and forever in the void. “Leo, you moron, where the hell are you?!”

Leo doesn't answer. Donnie pretends this doesn't scare him. He leans into the anger, letting the heat of it push him forward, urge him on. He can't be afraid. He's done this before, he's pulled their brothers from death's icy grip, given them a second chance. It's worked perfectly, up til now, and it's going to keep working despite Leonardo's attempts at driving Donnie insane.

Donnie's feet hit the lake harder as he stomps on, and on, and on, eyes darting frantically around for a shadow, a flicker, a sign, something. He calls for Leo until his voice is hoarse. Until his feet are so far past numb he's circled around to feeling them again.

Until Donatello realizes he can feel something under his feet.

He thinks it's the numbness creeping back in again, turning his nerves fuzzy and oversensitive (it wouldn't be the first time). But, no, he realizes, as something pushes up from underneath. Donnie stops dead. So does the thing below.

No. Not a thing.

Sparks flare to life at the back of his brain, familiar yet faint. It's a ghost of that feeling, the connecting thread between him and his other half, that twin sense Leo never shut up about and Donnie always maintained had no scientific evidence to prove. Donatello hasn't felt it since the day he died. Yet, tremulous though it may be, it's here now, bidding him to stop.

The breath vanishes from his lungs as he looks down.

There, amidst the quicksilver finish of the lake, is–

“Leo!”

His brother looks up at him. Or rather, looks up through him. Leo doesn't seem to recognize him. He stares, still as stone. Their twin sense fills with static. Donnie feels sick to his stomach. Clenching his hands, Donnie takes a steadying breath. Pressure begins to build behind his eyes. He's there, he's right there, but he still feels so far away. Donnie wonders for a moment if it's really Leo he's seeing down there.

“I miss you, Leo,”he says, though he's not sure why.

Leo copies him, mouth moving but no sound coming out. Curious. When Donnie moves, so does he, a perfect reflection, right down to the tilt of his head. Donatello kneels. So does Leo. He presses his hands against the glassy surface of the lake. So does Leo. He blocks Donnie, no matter how he moves, keeping himself on his side and Donnie on his. Just like all those games they'd play when they were hatchlings. Donnie hated those games then. He hates them even more in this moment, because on top of being annoying, now he's actively preventing Donnie from doing anything to save him.

“You are not making it easier, you know,”Donatello hisses, irritation replacing fascination.

Gritting his teeth, Donnie presses harder against the water, feeling the tension begin to give way under his right hand. The hand, he notes, Leonardo is missing.

There's nothing to block him there.

Reeling back, Donatello's fist hits the surface with enough force to send shards of glassy cerulean flying. It sinks further down, but not enough to get through. Leo's interference again, he knows. After staving off the sweet oblivion of death for so many years, fighting a decade-and-a-half in a losing battle, he's tired. Leo doesn't want to leave. He's supposed to be here, resting. This is home. That's what the twin sense tells him.

“It's not home,”Donnie grunts, punching the ice again. “Home-” Punch. “Is waiting-” Punch. “For you-” Punch. “Right here!”

Blessedly, Donatello's hand breaks through the icy surface. It's fucking freezing. Painful cold jolts up Donnie's arm into his shoulder, the shock nearly shutting down his nerves. He pushes through. He forces his arm deeper in, willing his fingers to move and close around Leonardo's scarf. Donnie's knuckles turn a startlingly light mint with the strength of his grip.

And he pulls.

He drags Leo, his twin, his brother, the other half of his soul, up and up from the depths of the water. The current shifts beneath his feet, waves lashing against his legs as it threatens to pull both him and Leonardo back under. Still, he keeps pulling. Donnie grimaces at the sharp sting of frost. Leo mimics him.

“Come here, you dumbass!”

Leo sneers up at Donnie. Rain pelts his skin, icy droplets pouring up in a deluge strong enough to nearly knock Donatello off his feet.

“You're coming with me and that's not up for discussion!"

The lake wants to take them both. It didn't want to let go of Leo, and now it thinks it can bring Donatello down with him if it tries. What it doesn't know is that the only thing that can stop Donatello is Donatello. He didn't come this far to give up now.

He didn't fight and claw and rage against all known laws of the universe to come back without his brother.

Both hands close around Leo's scarf. Then his shoulders, his sides, until Donnie's arms are under his, gripping tight around his shell. Donatello slams his foot against the lake for leverage, hauling Leo free of the water's frigid embrace.

“FUCK YOU, DEATH! I'M TAKING HIM!”

The water ripples in reply, and suddenly, it lets go. Gravity shifts. Everything tilts, sending the brothers spinning, dizzy, up–down?–into the dark.

Through it all, Donatello keeps hold of Leonardo's hand.

He made the mistake of letting go once. He's not about to make it again.

#rottmnt #cass fic tag #donatello #leonardo #rise of the tmnt #tcest dni #disaster twins #cass apocalyptic series #cass apocalypse au #update: I have a TMNT blog now! its theseweroff19th

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looking4userthatworks · 8 months

Text

If you where Miles cannon interest

● you guys met at Brooklyn Middle you had just moved there and he was there to show you around you guys quickly clicked you had same interests

●you'd guys draw together eat lunch together and hanged out together and you two had a comfortable amount of classes together!

●you two where inseparable❤️

● you even started to gain feelings for the little goober like he's so boyfriend material he sweet funny creative...attractive 👀

●...that was until he switched to visions academy every thing changed

●You guys still hanged out just less frequent because he was busy with all his new class not to mention the amount of homework

●when it got to much he'd sneak out and hang at your place

●Miles gets beaten by the spider you where the second person he'd call of course you couldn't pick up cause you where still in school

●anyways the event of into the spider verse occurred and it didn't take you long to figure out he was spider man (ether that or he couldn't handle the stress and told you)

●and he tells you everything Peter B Parker Spider noir Peter Porker Peni Parker and..Gewn

●He told you about her so much it felt like you weren't even there like hellooo?

● Miles doesn't see a problem with this (he's a very blind man) so he just continues not even noticing how your borded to death rn not to mention emotionally hurt 💔

●it's been like 2 years ever since the whole spider man gig and itsv events and think where going great( no really they weren't🥰)

●you and Miles friendship was getting testy with the whole spider man thing going on not to mention when you guys do end up having time to hang out there's always got to be a way to involve Gwen

[Your Name]: Hey Miles what do you think about my drawing? I thought since you talk about Gewn SO MUCH- I'd draw her off your description!

Miles: Pfftt who me??- You got her hair wrong by the way its way pinker and a bit more shorter

● yeah that basically how things go

Fast forward

●Your at the Moralez's party

●you great Jeff and Rio (you've known them long enough to call them by there first name SUCK IT GWEN-) and you notice someone you haven't meet before but sure as hell know who it is Gwen Stacy in the flesh

Jeff and Rio notice you looking at them hanging out

Rio: you know she look old enough to vote

[Your name]: Gwen Stacy in the flesh... wow

Rio: you know her?

[Y/n] no and yes in a way? Miles told me so much about her I practically met her

Jeff: huh you know funny enough I think I have the urge to say hi to them-

[Y/n] it's fine Jeff- but just in case I'll go check up on them

You head up to them Miles see you coming and trues to act normal

[Y/n]: Hey Miles! And I assume you must be?

Gwen: Gwen my names Gwen (as if you didn't know already)

[Y/n]: Gwen well I'm [y/n] Miles best friend actually um- How'd you two meet ?

Gwen: Visions Academy! We-

Rio: Hello I'm Miles's mom! We found this in Miles room so I assume you must've been in there.

Anways after that whole scene Miles run off to find Gwen or whatever blah blah blah

Meanwhile your just worried

in the end you just hope he knows what he's doing

Blah blah blah

Miguel shows Miles the whole web of destiny thing and tell him that he messed up both of his cannons actually 😨

Your and Miles where supposed to be together but since the whole itsv thing happened and he met Gwen that changed...

And miles is like Me??? Liking Gwen your crazyy like everyone doesn't know they like each other

So not only is his dad gonna die but so is his best friend 🤭

(Not only that your gonna die sad bc you know that he'll never love you!!!🤗)

(No but seriously let me know if you want me to go more indebt about this by rebooting this and taking me in it bc I'm on the website ver and I can't read messages 💔)

Have a lovely jubbly day my customers 🫡

#spiderman astv #atsv fic #astv headcannons #miles x y/n #miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv x you

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icycoldninja · 14 days

Text

Degrading (Genesis x Reader angst)

"Your degradation is getting worse, Gen."

"You think I haven't noticed?"

"You need to take it easy."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Genesis huffed a sigh, crossing his legs on the sofa the two of you were sitting on.

"I just can't. There are things I must do." You frowned at that, taking his arm, which was wrapped in a tattered, fading leather sleeve, and lifted it into your lap, twining your fingers with his.

"You have to slow down and relax. You're not getting any better. Look at you," You reached up and brushed some of his grayish-auburn hair out of his face. "You're paler than the dead, your skin is literally peeling off your face, you haven't eaten in days, and you look like you haven't slept for weeks." Gensis sighed again, resting his cheek on his palm.

"I have unfinished business to attend to, darling, people that must be removed from existence. I can't afford to relax, or else--"

"But you're dying!" You interrupted, louder than you meant to. "You're literally crumbling away into dust, you dumbass!"

"Yes, I know," Genesis sighed, reaching up and massaging his prematurely wrinkling forehead. "Please stop reminding me."

"How can I when it's literally etched on your face?!"

"It won't be that way for long. Hollander has a cure, I must only help him and wait--he will restore me to normal."

"Wait? For how long?"

"I..." Genesis paused; he didn't know the answer to that question himself. After drawing in a weak, shaking breath, he admitted his ignorance. "I'm afraid...I don't know."

Silence fell upon the both of you, dragging out each minute like a knife across flesh. The sound of nothingness was maddening and infuriating, all at the same time. Your nerves were already tense before, but now, they felt like they were going to snap. Judging by the expression on Genesis's face, so were his. After a long, long while of noiselessness, you spoke.

"You don't know?"

"No. I...do not." Genesis let out a great sigh and began to tiredly massage his eyes. You squeezed his hand gently, scared to put too much force into it because you could feel how bony and fragile it was now. Once again, silence filled the air; the only audiable sounds being those of your breathing. Eventually, Genesis tore his hand away from yours and covered his face with it.

"What do I know?" He mumbled, muffled voice starting to sound grated and forced. "Nothing. I'm placing my life in the hands of someone I don't even trust. I...I'm going to die."

By the time you realized the weight of what you'd done by initiating this conversation, it was too late. Genesis had turned away, his face buried in his decaying hands, quietly weeping over the armrest of your couch; his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe in between sobs.

"Gen, hey," You mumbled, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder, your face burning with embarssment and regret. "Don't cry...you're not going to die." Genesis refused to answer you and instead curled up against the armrest tighter, his entire body shaking violently. "Come on, don't be like that," You urged, "You're going to be fine...you just need to...relax....and take it easy..."

If you hadn't felt warm, wet droplets slide off your cheeks and splatter on your clothes, you wouldn't have known you were crying too.

"Don't lie to yourself," Genesis finally croaked, still refusing to look you in the eyes. "Or me. You and I know the truth." Neither of you spoke another word, mostly because there was nothing else to say. No matter how hard you wanted to believe that it wasn't true, no matter how badly you tried to take care of him, facts were facts. The Grim Reaper was waiting at your doorstep, ready to take Genesis's soul.

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

Text

rowaelin // 4.4k // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

a/n: the next fic update will be some kind of haunted. if you haven't already, please give it a read. it's going to be a fun ride. chapter ten will come a few days after that update <3

Golden hair tickled his nose when he woke. The sweet smell of Aelin’s shampoo had him taking a deep breath, savoring every second of her wrapped in his arms. He remembered tugging her closer to him just as he drifted off, but he was surprised they hadn’t appeared to move an inch while they napped. If anything, they were closer together. Their legs were tangled, one of hers sandwiched between his. An arm was slung over his waist and her face was buried in his chest.

He thought she was still sleeping, but her fingertips started drawing lazy patterns over his back, like she heard the change in his breathing and knew he was awake. Mala burn him, he felt her touch through his whole body. While he was still exhausted, Rowan had never felt so awake.

“Are you okay?” He murmured into her hair, taking a chance and pressing his lips to the top of her head as his hand ran up and down her back.

“I’m nauseous.” Aelin’s reply was a whisper swallowed up by the cotton of his shirt.

“I promise I won’t get mad if you throw up on me. It might even finally make us even,” he teased. A soft chuckle from her lips sank through his shirt, goosebumps blooming over his arms and neck.

“The way you smell…” she hesitated, rubbing her nose against into his torso. Rowan waited, fully prepared to lunge for the shower if it was making things worse for her. “It soothes me.”

Rowan had to swallow a swell of emotion as he whispered, “Then we can stay like this as long as you want.”

His arm slid beneath her head, carefully as to not jostle her too much. Aelin’s only answer was the swirling of her fingers over his back and what he swore was a soft brush of her lips against his chest as she melted into him completely.

~*~

Being wrapped up in Rowan chased her nausea away after another half hour. They didn’t speak unless he was checking in to see how she was doing. Long fingers combed through her hair, pausing to twist at the ends. She was quire sure he braided a few pieces at one point before dismantling them gently. Occasionally she would feel the whisper of a kiss to the top her head. Aelin hadn’t felt so at peace since they had last been tangled together like vineyard vines.

Once her stomach didn’t seem to be revolting against her, she pulled back enough to look at his face and found Rowan’s bright green eyes peering down at her. Concern lay heavy in his eyes, like he was hesitant to let her go. When she offered him a small smile, though, his features immediately softened. However subdued his returning grin was, the twitching of his mouth made it clear he was holding a bigger smile back. It was so cute that the urge to kiss him was damn near overwhelming.

“Better?” He asked just before she could act on that impulse. Tattooed fingers still trickled over her skin, now moving to her upper arms since her back was harder to reach. Aelin nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as he said, “I have a question.”

“I have an answer.” Readjusting where she lay, she moved one hand under her head and dropped her other back over his waist. Their lips were inches apart, and she caught his eyes dipping down to her mouth. Being so close was tempting the both of them, it seemed, but she knew he wouldn’t push that line unless she did first. If he asked, she very well might say yes.

“I think you called me your boyfriend this morning,” he said carefully, like she was running water trying to slip through his fingers at any given moment.

“That’s not a question,” she pointed out, one eyebrow quirking up.

“I…” Rowan’s eyes darted over her face then up to the ceiling while he gathered his thoughts. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Aelin wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that. The short answer was yes, for the most part. The long answer? That was complicated. There were doubts swimming in her head about being in a relationship. Sometimes she didn’t know if she could ever be all into one ever again. It didn’t mean she didn’t want to be, but after the last one blew up so spectacularly in her face and left her burned and scarred… Opening her heart like that was scary.

“It means… It means that you’re on probation.” Each word was slowly pulled from her mouth. The slight disappointment on his face tugged at every string that led to her heart and forced her to sit up and scrub at her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry if I’m pushing,” Rowan said immediately, sitting up next to her and doing his best to add a few inches between them. The left side of her body was cold without his warmth, and against her better judgment she put her hand on his thigh to keep him from wiggling too far away.

“You’re not. It’s– I–”

“I understand if you need more time and space to work this out,” he told her, letting her weave her fingers through his. Gods, she didn’t have enough words in her vocabulary to fully express how much it wasn’t him, not really.

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet. There are things I want to tell you that I’ve never told another soul. Not Aedion, not Lysandra, definitely not my parents. But there are things that I haven’t fully coped with yet and I need to figure it out first for myself. It isn’t… this sounds so cliche, but it isn’t you. Not entirely. I’m not holding how you reacted against you, Rowan. Especially not after what you told me about Lyria. I just need to figure myself out first.”

“Is it connected to why you didn’t want our relationship to become anything more than something fun?” A tattooed finger traced the tendons and veins on the back of her hand. When she looked at his face, Rowan paused and looked up at her.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I… I was in a really bad relationship. It took me a long time to get out of it. Sometimes I feel like I’ve only really just started coming back into myself. I have thrown myself into work so aggressively since I started the foundation to distract myself. But you… you made me feel awake for the first time in a really long time. I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I know I’ll get there eventually, but it’s so much to unravel. I just… I need you to be patient with me.”

It was a teensy, tiny baby step forward. It was something, though. More than she thought she could offer him to begin with. The truth of the words scared her more than anything else. She did want to talk to him about everything, but that also meant allowing herself to trust him fully.

Part of her brain didn’t want to allow it. Freely trusting had bitten her in the ass with very sharp teeth and shredded her down to nothing. Ever since Aedion showed up, she wondered if Lysandra had been so worried about her spiraling that she sent him to stop it before it got too out of hand. Up until she decided to make the trip to Wendlyn, she had been a shell of her former self. When discussing it with her family, while they fully supported the expansion of Fireheart, they had decided they wouldn’t– or couldn’t– leave her on her own for the several months she would be living out of the country.

On the other hand, they seemed to understand that getting out of Orynth for a little while would be good for her. So many memories, more bad than good, haunted every corner of the city she loved so fiercely. It was agreed that it would be beneficial for her to get away for a little while.

Her parents had hated the idea initially. With her anxiety and depression at an all time high, letting her out of sight for more than a few days or weeks was pushing it. Her dad had come around first, then talked her mom into being okay with it. By the time she was packed and ready to leave, her mental health was on the rise. Just the idea of getting away from Orytnh had already started to lift her spirits. The night before she left she vowed to video call at least once a week, and so far she had stuck to her word.

The night she met Rowan, something changed. Aelin couldn’t put her finger on what it was, exactly, but somewhere between their banter and his determination to make her appreciate soccer, something was thrumming through her veins again. It was like he had shaken her awake, a new clarity settling into her mind. For the first time in years, she felt like herself.

And it scared the absolute shit out of her.

“Hey. Where did you go?” His voice pulled her mind back to the present as his finger hooked under her chin and guided her face to look at him. Rowan’s brows were pulled in tightly together, worry written all over his face as plainly as if he’d vocalized it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, trying to look away from the intensity in his gaze. He didn’t let her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Aelin. I can be patient. I can and will give you whatever you want, whatever you need. I’ll be here.”

She wasn’t sure when tears had started to slip down her cheeks, but they were damp. Rowan’s face softened as he leaned forward and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her face one by one. When he leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss against her forehead, then her temple. A desperation to melt into him rose within her like a wave, but anxiety about her past wouldn’t let her give into the temptation.

“One more question,” Rowan said once her tears were dry, pulling back until just their noses were touching. The idle pattern his thumb traced below her ear felt so lovely she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.

“Hm?”

“If you’re calling me your boyfriend, do I get to call you my girlfriend?” It wasn’t what she was expecting, and she had her suspicions that he was asking partially as a distraction. Either way, a surprised laugh slipped through her lips as she looked up at him.

“You can call it whatever you want to, Ro.”

When he smiled, broad and unrestrained before pressing another sweet, lingering kiss to her temple, a thought clanged through her like a bell. Maybe it was a warning. Maybe it was a celebration. She couldn’t be sure.

What Aelin knew was that she wanted to fall in love with him. And that was the single most terrifying thought she’d ever had in her life.

~*~

A while later, everyone was showered and dressed to go out for dinner. Aelin had emerged from her room in a simple, oversized t-shirt dress, and Rowan was struck once again by how beautiful she was. It wasn’t the first time it had hit him that day, but the little smile she gave him was enough to make his stomach flip almost violently.

Aelin drove, and despite Rowan insisting Aedion sit in the front, he rode in the passenger seat beside her. The drive to the heart of the city was quick, the two cousins arguing over music choices almost up until she parked the car. The way they ribbed each other reminded Rowan so much of Enda and Sellene, and he was absolutely positive that she would perfectly fit into his family with ease.

Though the restaurant was busy for a Monday evening, they didn’t have to wait for a table. Aedion called ahead before they left the apartment and they were quickly ushered back to a table in the back corner. Apparently, this was one of Aelin’s favorite places and she often ordered soup for lunch on days she wasn’t feeling well at work.

“Are you feeling okay?” Rowan asked once they were seated. Ever since the orange juice incident, he was hyper-aware of how sensitive she was to smells. The delicious aroma of pasta and garlic didn’t seem to bother her, though, because she nodded eagerly while opening her menu.

“I’m fucking starving.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve eaten more in the last few days than I’ve ever seen you eat in your entire life,” Aedion joked, and Aelin gave him a flat look.

“Clearly you don’t remember dance competition season very well.” Rowan’s eyebrows went up, eyes snagging on her face again.

“Dance competitions?” He asked.

“I danced competitively until I graduated high school. Rehearsals were intense leading up to it, and even though my instructor was constantly harping about watching my figure,” she paused to roll her eyes, “I ate damn near constantly.”

“She used to eat us all out of house and home,” Aedion agreed, to which Aelin snorted.

“Don’t even start with that shit.” Aelin shook her head as she looked at Rowan, pointing at Aedion with her arm stretched across the table and a finger in his face. She was quick to pull her hand back onto their side of the table when her cousin moved to grab it. “I know you’ll be able to relate to this, but our moms had to double every recipe we ever had for dinner because this asshole would eat enough to feed a family of four in one sitting.”

“My mom did the same thing. If there was ever anything leftover I would wind up eating it later in the night,” Rowan confirmed, and Aelin laughed.

“I feel like you don’t eat quite that much anymore, but you get pretty close. I always wondered why you ate so much after coaching a game. Things made so much more sense when I found out you were a dirty little liar.” Rowan didn’t have time to wonder if it was a genuine jab or not– her brilliant smile told him she was teasing. He shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at the menu, fighting back a grin of his own.

“Go easy on him, Fireheart. He had to make sure you weren’t in it for the money.” Aelin cackled so loudly at Aedion’s little quip that she received a few glares from nearby tables. Despite the joke being wholly at his expense, Rowan chuckled, too. Her hand found his knee under the table and squeezed.

The waitress saved him from the jokes going any further, each of them ordering drinks and Aelin requesting two appetizers to start. Aedion had given her a look like she was proving his earlier statement. She merely sat back, patted her stomach and said, “I’m eating for two.”

~*~

Rowan had just finished his second old-fashioned and while he didn’t feel buzzed in the slightest, he was more relaxed than he had been all week.

Dinner was nothing more than scraps and crumbs on their plates, their glasses empty. Aelin had her chin in her hand while Aedion talked about working on the business side of things for Orynth’s football team. Everything he had to do could be done from anywhere, which was why he had dropped everything to fly out to see Aelin.

They had filled Rowan in on his surprise arrival, and while he felt guilty that she was struggling so much, he was happy they were getting time together. Aelin had reassured him that it wasn’t necessarily about what he said to her, and more about having always been surrounded by family, yet his heart still twinged that he added additional stress. The comforting pat she gave his thigh did little to quell his worries, but the fact that she was touching him in a casual way again was a step forward he couldn’t ignore.

Rowan stole the check from the waitress before either of the other two could even reach for it. He had seen Aelin pull her wallet out of her purse and refused to let her pay for anyone. Maybe it was a subtle way of trying to amend things, maybe it was just how his mother raised him. Maybe it was both and he wanted to prove it didn’t matter.

Rowan handed his card back to the waitress and leaned back in his chair, one arm draping over the back of Aelin’s. He toyed with the ends of her hair until she cleared her throat and nodded at Rowan. With an eyebrow raised, he turned to find a boy, no older than seven, with black hair and wide, brown eyes hesitantly approaching the table. A sketchbook was clutched to his chest and his fingers were wrapped tightly around a pen. The shirt was the same color as Rowan’s home jersey, and he was willing to bet the logo was hiding behind his arms.

A big part of Rowan loved fan interactions, especially with kids. Another part of him was nervous about what Aelin would think. Was it off putting that these things tended to happen to him when he went anywhere besides the Neon Moon? They were just starting to make some sort of progress. He didn’t want this to be what chased her away.

Aelin surprised him, though, by leaning forward so she could address the boy directly as she said, “Hi sweetheart. What’s your name?”

“Finn,” he said, twisting his mouth to the side as he looked down at his sketchbook. A few tables over, a woman around his age watched him carefully. It must be his mother.

“Hi, Finn. My name is Aelin. This is my friend Rowan and my cousin Aedion,” she paused while he nodded, but he said nothing else like he was too nervous to speak. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’re a big soccer fan.”

“Football,” Rowan murmured to her, and the boy cracked a wide grin as he nodded. Rowan smiled back at him, unable to resist when he was missing his two front teeth. “Would you like an autograph?”

Again, his head bobbed up and down, flopping his hair into his eyes. Aelin chuckled beside him, sitting back while Rowan took the pen and paper from Finn and scribbled his signature across a blank page.

“If you want get your mom, she could take a picture of you two,” Aelin offered, and the little boy looked out of his mind excited as he weaved through the tables to get his mother.

“I’m so sorry,” Rowan said softly, running his hand up and down her thigh. Aedion watched from across the table, a content smile on his face.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s sweet.” A weight lifted off his chest at her words and he nodded in thanks, giving her knee a light squeeze as Finn and his mom approached.

Since they were ready to leave, Aelin and Aedion excused themselves from the table as to not be in the picture. Within a few moments it was over and done with and he joined the cousins at the front of the restaurant, leading Aelin out with a hand on her back.

“Do you have to go back tonight or can you stay another day?” Aelin asked as they walked toward the car. Aedion walked several steps ahead of them, hands in his pockets and whistling a tune as the sky turned from shades of pink and orange to purple.

“I go back Wednesday. Malakai asked me what was going on, I told him I had some things in my personal life, and he told me to take a couple days if I needed them.” Malakai hadn’t seemed upset about Rowan missing two days of practice. He wouldn’t be playing at this week's game, anyway, and his coach was well aware that he never let himself slip out of shape.

“Then I suppose I should call my mother tomorrow and properly introduce the two of you. Dad, too, if he’s around.” She sighed and patted his shoulder as he pulled open the driver’s side door for her, waiting until she was fully inside to shut the door.

Rowan hadn’t formally met anyone’s parents probably ever, unles the girl he took to senior prom counter. Hopefully he made a good impression.

~*~

He wasn’t sure what woke him up, all he knew was that when he reached across Aelin’s to pull her closer to him, her side was empty and cool. The bedroom was bathed in night, the only light squeezing through the gap beneath the bedroom door. Though the apartment was mostly quiet, Rowan was immediately worried that she had found herself sick.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, not bothering to grab his shirt before entering the hall. The bathroom door was open, but the room was dark. Out here away from the white noise of the fan on her bedside table, Rowan heard crinkling from the kitchen and followed the sound to investigate.

Aelin stood at the counter facing toward him using nothing more than the dim light above the stove to see. All she wore was a sports bra and the pair of shorts she’d stripped down to for sleeping. A chip bag was in one hand and she was staring down into a bowl, using some sort of silverware to poke at the contents within. He paused and leaned against the door frame, folding his arms over his chest and waiting for her to notice him.

When she lifted the utensil to her mouth, something globbed off from the bottom and either fell back into the bowl or onto the counter, he couldn’t be sure. The look on her face was pure joy as she brought it to her mouth and–

“What the fuck, Rowan!” She squealed, fork clattering onto the counter. The chips in her hand fell to the floor and whatever dark substance she was about to devour splattered on the counter. Her eyes darted nervously toward Aedion’s door, likely worry he would wake up from her shouting, but no sounds came from beyond the hall.

“What are you doing in here, love?” Rowan prowled toward her, noticing the blush that took over her cheeks the closer he got.

“I wanted a snack,” she bristled, bending down to pick the chip bag up off the floor. When she righted herself, he saw it was a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos. Leaning one hip against the counter he stuck his hand in to pull one out.

“What is this?” He pointed toward the bowl with his chip before popping it into his mouth. It could have been the light, but he was pretty sure Aelin was red from head to toe. With her lips glued together it was clear he wouldn’t be getting a direct answer out of her. Rowan leaned down and sniffed, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “Chocolate?”

“Mhm.” She picked up the mess of a blob from the counter, and it was then that he realized what she was doing.

“Are you dipping hot cheetos into chocolate?”

“It’s dark chocolate.” Like that made it any better. His bewildered expression didn’t waver enough for her liking because she frowned at him and pointed toward her room. “If you’re going to judge me, get out of my kitchen.”

“You’re dipping hot cheetos into melted chocolate.”

“Spicy chocolate is a thing!” She cried, smacking at his chest. Rowan’s lips twitched at her defensive nature. Even her fingers had chocolate on them. From this close, he could see the corner of her mouth did, too.

“Where did you even get this idea?” Another cheeto was stolen from the bag in her hand. He hadn’t had these in years.

“Well, I just,” she sighed, brushing her hair from her face exasperatedly. To save her from fighting with her hair, he moved behind her and carefully pulled it into a ponytail. Once it was secured with the hair tie on his wrist, she mumbled a thank you. Aelin looked the part of a five year old getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and it was fucking adorable. “I was just laying there and wanted something spicy but then I wanted something sweet. And then I had the brilliant idea of sweet and spicy at the same time and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“So you–”

“It’s not that weird, okay! I’ve seen and heard other people do worse and it’s so good.” She dipped one half way and held it up, twisting to look at him over shoulder. Rowan shook his head, ready to apologize for not wanting to try it, but Aelin simply shrugged and dropped it into the bowl.

“I’m going to take your word for it,” he teased, rubbing his hands over her shoulders. Aelin leaned back into him, her body warm where their bare skin touched. Her eyes once again focused on using the fork to coat the cheeto in dark chocolate. When she lifted it out, it was a dark little lump. The bowl being nearly empty with half-solid chocolate glued to its walls had him wondering how long she’d been out here doing this. “Why aren’t you just dipping?”

“Because the whole thing has to be covered for the ratio,” she said, like it was the dumbest question she had ever heard. Like it was common sense, and not just a concoction her pregnant brain had made up at three in the morning.

“Right, right.” Rowan agreed like it was obvious. That seemed to satisfy her because she hummed contentedly before putting the little log into her mouth, chewing slowly to savor it.

“Issogood,” she mumbled, half moaning. Aelin moaning while he was half awake was the last thing he needed to hear. It made his body high alert in all the wrong places, and he stepped out from behind her and nodded toward her bedroom.

“Let’s go back to bed. We can clean this up in the morning and then I’ll take you to get all the spicy chocolate you desire.”

“Promise?” She asked, sucking the half-melted goo from her thumb with wide eyes as she looked up at him. Rowan chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I promise.”

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294 @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends @icantfindmychashma @swankii-art-teacher

#rowaelin #ciwyw #call it what you want #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #ciwyw9 #ciwyw 9 #throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #aedion ashryver #rowan whitethorn #writing #my writing

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

First kisses with Rhett Abbott please 🙏

Kiss Prompts!

sure thing!

Your return to Amelia County hasn't been under the rosiest of circumstances.

Your plans after college just haven't panned out the way you'd like, and coming home has been a bit of a gut punch—almost as much of a gut punch as running into one of your oldest friends. You hadn't told anyone that you were coming back to town, hoping to avoid the reunions and questions, and planning on innocuously hiding out in your parents' spare room until you could afford to move out again.

Sure, you and Rhett had been close in high school, and yes, you'd had the worst of all crushes on him—but he'd been so far gone over Maria at that point that you hadn't said a damn thing. When you run into him while grabbing supplies for your mother's horses, you're both surprised and flustered, tripping over your words as you exchange numbers.

When he reaches out, you figure you'll just grab a drink together, but he's driven you out into one of his family's pastures, and the two of you spread out the blankets that he'd brought before piling into the bed of the truck.

You'd missed the sea of stars when you'd been the city, and you'd been happy to settle down and peer up at the sky. You can feel the warmth of Rhett's body beside yours, hear the whine of the country music still spilling out of the cab of the truck (though you'd scolded and warned him that he was going to kill his battery).

"C'mon," He urges, scooching out of the truck bed and turning to face you again.

"What?"

"C'mere," Rhett takes hold of your hand, tugging you out of the bed of the truck. You groan a little bit, wriggling out of the plush blanket that you've been lounging in.

"Watch it, Abbott," You chuckle, "One of my legs is asleep."

He smiles, lighting up the evening just a touch.

"May I have this dance?"

Now, your ear catches on the soft crooning as Rhett brings you back down to Earth with him, and your brows raise. There have been stirrings all night, sure. Fond old feelings have risen up from their graves, taunting you as he'd shifted in close, as he'd murmured like the two of you were in the middle of a library and not in the middle of a pasture that you have all to yourselves. If you'd been a little more hopeful, you might've told yourself that his looks and scant touches have lingered.

But this little offer is something that you can't talk yourself out of reading into.

"Of course."

Rhett's hand tightens around yours as the other smooths around your waist. You rest your free hand on his shoulder, smiling as he gently draws you closer. You're surprised as he holds your gaze, your face warming as he seems to look right into your heart.

"I never thought I'd see you back here," He admits. Your gaze drops to his chest then, and you swallow past the lump in your throat.

"Never thought I'd be back here, either."

"You sorry you are?"

"...Not sorry," You shrug. "But...I don't know. It doesn't exactly feel great."

Rhett hums sympathetically as he leads the two of you in your gentle turning and swaying.

"Well, circumstances aside, I'm glad your back."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Your heart ticks up in your chest as you feel Rhett's thumb stroke gently over your back.

"Just felt like we never had enough time."

"You missed me?" You can't help but scoff a laugh. You know that it's a mistake as Rhett's face falls, lips pursing into a frown.

"Of course I missed you." His tone is so sincere that it makes your stomach flip. You tighten your grip on his, shifting just a little closer to him with your next step.

"I missed you, too."

Rhett's lips quirk into a smile as he nods.

"Good," He murmurs. "Do me a favor and don't go runnin' off again for a little while?"

"How long's a little while?"

"Let's not worry about that," He laughs, shaking his head as the two of you come to a stop, even as the music plays on.

"I gotta plan, Rhett."

"Think I could figure into that somewhere?"

"My plan?"

"Mhm."

Rhett nods again, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and up again so quickly that you damn near miss it. Your tongue darts nervously over your dry lips, heart skipping a beat as his eyes drop again to track the movement.

"Sure," You manage. "Do you have any idea how you'd like to figure in?"

Rhett's hand smooths down your back before he curls his arm around your waist, drawing you into his chest. Your eyes close as he rests his temple against yours.

"I've got a couple."

His breath brushes against your jaw as he says so. You can hardly hear the music on the radio over the way your blood is roaring in your ears. Your heart is practically leaping out of your chest—can he feel it? You turn your head toward him a touch, breath hitching as his lips press against your cheek. You each turn your heads just a little bit more, the tips of your noses brushing. You can't bring yourself to open your eyes, certain that you'll somehow shatter the moment. Rhett shifts against you again, his fingers tightening in the fabric of your shirt as his other hand intertwines with yours.

You dare peek at him then, and find Rhett watching you closely. You tip your head back just a touch, gaze drifting to his lips before meeting his eye. You tip your chin up, hesitantly pressing your lips to his, eyes wide open and on his. He watches you, too, gently dropping a kiss to your lips in turn. You get another peck before Rhett tips his head, taking your lower lip between his and giving it a tender suck. You manage to watch him for just a moment more before your eyelashes flutter, then close at the feeling of him giving your lip a nip. You groan softly at the sting, unable to help it. Before your mortification can get the better of you, Rhett lets go of your hand, grasping your cheek and keeping you closer.

You hum, sliding your hand up to tangle in his hair as you trade tender kisses in the dark.

#Rhett Abbott x Reader #Rhett Abbott x You #Rhett Abbott/Reader #Rhett Abbott/You #Rhett Abbott fic #Rhett Abbott imagine #asks #replies #anon #prompts

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stinger-shot · 1 month

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Yey! Silly vent because I feel like shit!

Read under the cut if you want the juicy ass details

So basically, I gotta let this shit out.. its fucking me up a bit rn.

I met this dude around the start of 2021 on tiktok AND HE WAS SO TALENTED AND FUNNY but he always said he wasn't. Anyway time skip a lil..

We started getting into a few arguments near the middle of 2022. And they where just small disagreements then they gradually got worse and worse every time it happend. And it especially got bad when I made another friend on tiktok who loved doing art related things and drew my old persona back then.

And HE WAS NOT HAVING IT and he said quite alot of bad things to me. Did I stay friends with him? Yes I did. Did I also block the nice guy just trying to be my friend? Yes. I blocked them out of fear of loosing my best friend.

And near the end of 2022 we started dating because things had gotten a better.

Oh how I was so wrong. Everything just went downhill when he left high-school. He always needed attention. He got mad at me because I couldn't set an alarm BECAUSE he was up at 10am and I was up near 1pm. So I forced myself to do so mutch bullshit for him. Like draw him art as an apology and it drained me do badly I could hardly do my own personal art.

I didn't even have personal art at this point. Every time I fixated on something it was what he was fixating on because he'd get mad at me and argue with me if I wasn't.

But everything was calm when it was around April in 2023 and we where finally getting along like an actul couple because of a game called final fantasy. We where obsessed with it for months! And then around June or July I re discovered transformers.

I have never felt as happy in a fandom since 2019! Like holy shit the fandom is so sweet.

But I kept it a secret from him he still doesn't know. Then at some point I made this tumblr to get my stupid little urges out and now look at where I'm at. I haven't been this happy in a LONG while.

And just st the start of 2024 my ex got into an argument with one of his friends and I offered to talk to them. so he agreed and I spoke to them.

Im so fucking glad I did.

Because without their help I'd still be fucking miserable. They gave me the confidence to dump that bitches ass and I honestly feel like a weight has been taken off. Because it honestly felt like a chore every day of my life just talking to him.

And my other friend on discord had helped me out to. Including you silly fuckers on discord/tumblr. If your even reading this... if you are why are you still reading this?

But anyway. I just needed this off my chest. Because it does hurt a little spite how good i feel but I just have an off feeling. I haven't put down everything that happend while I was with my ex and some things might be in the wrong order or time but at least I'm forgetting it?

Just. I love the transformers fandom so mutch mutch really helped me pull through...

Fuck I'm ranting. Uh. Bye!

Also a big thank you to Avery and rex for helping me feel better (rex I've only known you for a little bit but jesus christ I fucking laugh my ass off because of you) jesus I'm sappy as fuck. (and avery your so fucking cool. You helped me alot.) And belyyvolks (I've had alot of fun messing around about ironhide XD) I'm not tagging because I don't want alot of attention on this post.

#Vent #Fuck me I ranted alot #transformers #Transformers is the best fandom ever #maccadam

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oldmanyaoi69 · 4 months

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I haven't watched labyrinth in so long but I felt the urge to draw him

#trying to get like all of my art posted #labyrinth #jareth #I LOVE HIM

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athenaholmesartistsguild · 4 months

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View on Patreon for free!!!

This card erupted from my brain almost entirely fully formed. It was kinda terrifying how quickly I painted the whole thing (about 2-ish days?). Despite the insane turnaround I really like how it turned out! I wanted to go for something a bit dreamier looking since the original Moon card focuses more on illusions and things that aren't necessarily there in a literal sense.

BTW Sagawa is so deceptively difficult to draw. I used a reference and I still couldn't get him to look saggy enough :( Why won't you sag, old man?!

Interpretations are below the cut:

For the longest time, The Moon completely stumped me whenever I pulled it. No matter whose interpretation I used, it always felt like something was missing-- that there was a singular piece that I just did not have that was critical to really understanding this card.

Here's that piece:

The Moon is about our internal battle between our primal fear of the unknown and our desire to 'conquer' it. The Moon offers many gifts: joy, good fortune, just about anything you could desire. But to receive these gifts, one has to venture through the darkness, only guided by the faint rays of The Moon up above.

The problem is that this light is barely enough to see what's in front of us. Darkness surrounds us and we begin to feel confused and scared as we press on.

Our animalistic impulses (represented by the dog and the wolf in the original card) cause us to try and fight against the guidance the Moon is trying to give. The Moon urges us to continue, to press on through the unknown; this journey we're going on poses no danger to us, but our fears cause us to balk.

We want to do things on our terms. We want to conquer this darkness and control it to put our fears at ease. It feels as if this is the only way to stay safe.

But the Moon will not be conquered. We are at the mercy of the darkness, of the unknown and trying to change this would be like trying to stop the rotation of the earth. Our best bet at this point is to accept this reality and be receptive to the messages we're receiving.

We're close to finding the gifts offered by the Moon. But will our fears keep us from receiving them?

The journey ahead isn't an easy one. It will cause us to move forward when we're not completely sure what's ahead, but the Moon promises that as long as we keep going-- as long as we don't give up-- we will reach the other side. We will receive everything that led us to go on this journey in the first place.

Reversed, we see the perspective of someone we haven't talk about until now: the crayfish.

The crayfish is all of us-- kinda.

The crayfish represents someone who wants everything that the Moon offers. It wants the transformation, the joy, the good fortune, but it just can't get past the wolf and the dog blocking its path. It's petrified of giving up control and doing things someone else's way.

The Moon claims that these animals mean no harm, but why are they barking and snarling and growling if that isn't the case? They’re so much bigger than the crayfish, too. How could it ever expect to get past them?

How arrogant of such a small creature to doubt the wisdom of the natural forces around it.

The reversed Moon suggests that our fears are keeping us from going on a journey that is essential for our growth. No matter how much we wait and hide, that thing we're avoiding has to happen.

How much longer will we choose to ignore it? When will we stop being able to resist the gifts offered at the end of the journey?

In my version of the card, Majima is the Moon and Sagawa is but a lowly crayfish.

An important, extremely subtle aspect of Sagawa's character is that he enjoys having Majima around. While he tries to frame it as a purely profit motivated desire, this isn't the whole truth. Sagawa developed some level of fondness for this kid that he's holding captive, but he is completely incapable of vocalizing these feelings.

There's a conflict between who Sagawa wants to be-- a paternal figure in his traumatized pseudo-son's life-- and who he feels like he has to be-- a manipulative, abusive monster with absolute control over his traumatized pseudo-son's life. I tried to incorporate this into the card with the use of the bird cages.

The cage on the right is Majima's. Sagawa is afraid of losing Majima, but will never actually act on this fear in a sincere, non-abusive way-- likely due to the way he was taught at a very young age that caring for something unselfishly only causes pain.

The cage on the left represents the bird Sagawa nursed back to health as a child that was eventually killed by Sagawa's own parents. This trauma is passively lingering in the background, but is ultimately part of the reason he treats Majima the way he does.

The main idea I wanted to get across with this card is the battle Sagawa has between his mask, ergo, the guy he wants everyone to think he is, and the little hints we see of who he actually is. For Sagawa to be able to keep the good things in his life, he has to let go of that mask. And Majima is a threat because he gives Sagawa a pretty compelling reason to toss it aside.

But getting rid of the persona he's built would mean completely changing Sagawa's own understanding of who he is. After living so long without getting close to anyone, what would it mean to actually care? How could he continue to live as a yakuza if everyone knows how 'soft' he truly is? Wouldn't it be so much easier to just shove his feelings down and pretend they don't exist? Why would he even take such a risk for some kid?

Change is hard. It requires decisions that we might not like the ramifications of. Sometimes, it's much easier to stay where we are, even if we're not completely happy with our lives.

But the Moon always lingers. It's always there, always whispering in our ear, telling us about the life we could live.

If only we choose to trust it.

#I love Sagawa's fucked up little brain. It's so much fun to analyze.#Next card is the Star featuring Kiryu and Haruka so prepare for that!#yakuza #my art #yakuza fanart #majima goro #sagawa tsukasa #tarot card design

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rinwellisathing · 2 months

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You're Awful, I Love You: Part 14

Enver Gortash/ Trans male Tiefling Durge

So here's the sex scene! I haven't written one in a very long time but my partners said they liked it so...um.... here goes!

“Your horns are sensitive, aren't they? That's good to know.” Gortash noticed the change in Sentry when he'd gripped his horn. He'd felt a sense of power, authority. Sentry's body had trembled with pleasure, his demeanor more compliant, obedient. The thoughts would have continued along this line, parsing what this simple touch did to the tiefling, had Sentry not taken him into his mouth at this exact moment. The warm, smooth heat of his tongue and throat drowning all rational thought as the tyrant tossed back his head with a moan. How those sharp teeth weren't scraping against his flesh, he wasn't sure, but The Executioner performed so expertly he didn't care to wonder, only surrender to the sensations. His grip on Sentry's hair tightened, the hand gripping the horn beginning to rub gently at the ridges.

Somewhere in the back of Sentry's mind, clouded as it was by pleasure, he was vaguely aware that this was the first time he had done this of his own accord. Sure with Wysp or Ffion there had been implements and toys, but never an organic cock. He was sure he would feel the urge to bite, to make him bleed as he had that final night with his false father. But that urge didn't enter his mind in this moment, the grip on his horn allowing only one urge into him. As he felt his partner rise to full stiffness, he made a motion to pull back, surprised when he felt the hands atop his head withdraw and allow him.

Sentry panted heavily as is eyes met those dark, commanding emeralds. “I want to be on top. Or is that too great an ask of Bane's Chosen?”

Gortash smirked, but leaned back, laying fully on the ground, gazing up at Sentry and beckoning him with a subtle tilt of his head. Sentry hurriedly tossed his boots and the fine velvet pants aside, forgetting to even feel the shame he thought he might when the rags he'd stuff the crotch with fell carelessly to the floor. His skin was scarred and lined with ridges and prongs common to a tiefling. No hair grew on his smooth freckled skin. His thighs and ass were sculpted from years of paladin training and stalking through difficult terrain. His stomach was smooth and flat with lean muscle definition to it. His hips were just a bit too prominent and his waist with a bit too much of a curve. Then, between his legs, that smooth hairless slit. But as with his scars, his partner made no mention of it and barely acknowledged any sense of wrongness Sentry felt about it.

Sentry pushed the dysphoric whispers from his mind like he pushed down the urge when it failed to serve him, and he mounted his partner, back arching and head tossed back at the feeling of taking instead of feeling it forced inside him. His tail twitched excitedly, curling and raising as he lowered himself down. He pressed his hands to the Tyrant's chest, gripping that dark hair now slick with sweat.

He was vaguely aware as Enver's hands pressed to his body, gripping his hips as he rode. It occurred to Sentry that even with the chosen of Bane, he had some semblance of control. He could guide their lovemaking. “The tail....please...grab my tail.” He whispered between soft breathy panting.

His lover complied, a tight controlling grip on the appendage, fingers feeling out the ridges and hooks of the skin. Sentry's eyes closed tightly and he cried out as he could feel the metal of the gauntlet digging into his skin. His tongue slid out of his mouth and his eyes rolled back as they opened again, fluttering. His nails dug into his lover's chest, clawing deep and drawing blood, but the only response was a sharp gasp and a deep moan of pleasure. This felt right, it felt good. A vague sensation at the back of Sentry's mind told him to lick the blood from Gortash's chest, but he would need to return to his senses first, right now the head rush of the Tyrant's grip on his tail was too much and he could feel his body clenching and spasming, his release close.

His awareness flickered back only briefly as Gortash let go of Sentry's tail for a moment to grab his wrists, repositioning The Executioner's skilled hands to his throat, one deep, intense shared look imploring Sentry to squeeze. One hand remained on one of Sentry's wrists, the other returned to the small of his back, the gauntlet's metal nails digging into the skin just above his tail, teasing, withholding the mind breaking pleasure as he awaited compliance.

His request was an easy one to grant. Strangulation was as natural as breathing to Sentry and he tightened his grasp,claws just barely pricking at the skin of Gortash's neck, calloused fingers restricting his airway slowly, applying more presssure so slowly. As he did, Enver's grip returned to the base of Sentry's tail, drawing a whimper of pleasure from the tiefling as he continued to roll his hips eagerly. He was close now. Face flushed, eyes half lidded, arms shaking even as he choked his lover. Sentry's nails broke the skin of his partner's throat at the same moment, Gortash gave his tail a rough, authoritative grip and held him down on his cock. Sentry felt warmth flood inside of him at the same moment he felt his own release. His grip loosened as he collapsed, sweating and weak against his lover's chest, lapping gently at the long, bloody scratches he'd left there like a contented kitten.

He was vaguely aware of the risk he was taking. He remembered from every past encounter, the ones in his cage that felt like so long ago now, or cornered in the baths by an older trainee at the temple, but that didn't matter. He knew enough about herbalism to deal with the problem if it arose. For now he felt sated, pleasantly exhausted. He had never felt able to sleep safely when his sculpture garden had been a proper house, but here atop Bane's chosen, he felt himself nodding off and was vaguely aware of his companion's slow, steady breathing as a sign that he'd fallen asleep as well.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #tiefling #oc #durge #dark urge #fanfic #writing #gortash x durge #durgetash #lord enver gortash #enver gortash

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