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stars4gojo · 7 months

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Paper rings

I’m with you even if it makes you blue

Gojo x Fem! Reader // progression of their relationship, fluff, maybe some angst? Gojo and reader parent Megumi & Tsumiki together // 1.6k words

3 times you asked Gojo to marry you and the one time he asked you.

More of my work🩷

Gojo Satoru, an incredibly familiar name to you ever since you were a child. He was the notorious loud boy who ran around in the park as if he owned it when you were 6. Growing up in the same neighbourhood as him was not easy, he was boisterous, loud and selfish; always acting as if he owned the slide demanding a password for anyone who wanted to play on it. You deemed yourself to be brave when you first approached the boy, being persistent about forming a friendship with him despite his efforts to avoid you, claiming that girls have ‘cooties.’ Unfortunately for him you weren’t one to give up, you had taken a liking towards the spoiled boy others in the neighbourhood feared, taking even Gojo himself by surprise.

The first time you had asked Gojo to marry you was a subtle evening in summer. It was the last week before summer break started, you would be leaving to visit your grandparents throughout the summer like usual.

“Will you miss me Toru?” You questioned him while sucking on the bright blue popsicle which was dripping everywhere due to the unendurable heat.

“Huh? I won’t miss you and what’s with the nickname I told you to not call me that..” He replied, almost mumbling the last part as his rosy cheeks lit up in embarrassment due to the nickname.

“Well I’m going to miss you. You know I won’t be here for all three months Toru.” You added ignoring his wishes to not use that nickname.

“But you’re coming back right?” He questioned with the rosy tint not leaving his cheeks.

“Of course! I would never leave you, I’m going to marry you so I can’t leave just yet.” You replied while little giggles escaped your mouth.

“You’re going to marry me…?” He questioned back.

“Yes I will.” You spoke with utter certainty as if he had no say in who he would marry.

“I’d like to see you try…Race you back to the park!” He added while suddenly getting up on his feet and running away.

“Hey! No fair!” You called back as your tiny legs chased after him.

—

The second time it happened was when you two were in middle school, now too old to play pirates in the local park. You got into the habit of taking walks around the area and watching the younger children play.

It was the night before the first day of middle school, all sorts of emotions of anxiety and excitement going through your mind.

“Middle school huh?” Gojo started.

No response from you.

“You don’t look too excited.” He added while scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

And to no surprise there was no response from you causing him to snap his fingers infront of your face waking you up.

“What are you thinking about?” He questioned softly unlike his usual character.

“Just wondering about what you said…” you replied silently.

“We’re gonna be in different classes this year.” You added while sighing in disappointment.

“Oh cmon we don’t know that yet I can’t believe you’re so upset over that, I thought something serious happened!” Gojo shouted back almost in relief.

“It is serious!!” You fought back, “Being in different classes means that we won’t ever be paired up for like anything and then you won’t ever have the time for me and then we won’t spend any time together which means I can’t marry you!” You huffed in frustration crossing your arms around your chest while a pout formed on your lips.

You couldn’t dare to turn around to look at Gojo after your daring confession.

“WHAT!” He shouted back after a moment of silence and you finally turned towards him.

“Yo- you’re crazy! No way in hell I’m going to marry you.” He stuttered back while the familiar red tint covered his face.

“Whatever…” you huffed out.

“Let’s just go home…you need food! Right that’s what you need to stop saying such nonsense.” He spoke quickly in embarrassment as he held your hand and started dragging you to the corner shop with him to buy you that same blue popsicle you’ve been having since you were 6.

You two ended up being in the same classes for the next three years still being known as the most inseparable duo that walked in your small town.

—

The final time you had to asked Gojo to marry you was right before high school. You always knew Gojo’s little secret about him being a jujutsu sorcerer, truth is you were from a family of them as well. But you never had any passion of continuing practicing jujutsu unlike Gojo who was destined to grow up to be the strongest sorcerer to exist.

You had refused to go to your grandparents this summer so you and Gojo could spend your first and last summer together.

It was 2:43 AM and the two of you were sprawled over your bed.

High school was starting in a week but Gojo was leaving early to go to his special jujutsu high school.

“Can’t believe summer is already over.” You started while munching on the leftover pizza from a few hours ago as Gojo hummed in acknowledgment.

“Can’t believe you’re leaving too.” You sighed as you sat up, trying to bring up the topic the two of you have been desperately avoiding.

“I’m just going to Tokyo won’t forget you or anything.” He mumbled back.

“You won’t know that unless you actually go there.” You harshly grumbled under your breath causing Gojo erupt in a small fit of laughter.

“You think I’ll find better friends or what?” He asked in between laughing as you smacked him on his chest.

“You’re all I have here Toru this isn’t funny.” You rolled your eyes at how unserious he was being.

“You have Hana from across the street.” He replied back purposely naming the girl who you hated the most as you whined in disapproval.

“You know Toru?” You started as he hummed again, “you should marry me.”

“What?” He replied in surprise.

“If you marry me you won’t have to go to that stupid high school and I’m from a family of jujutsu sorcerers and your mom definitely loves me so then there’s nothing to worry about.” You spoke but had no actual confidence in your words.

“I can’t just marry you like that.” He spoke in slight disbelief as his eyebrows raised.

“So this is it then?” You sighed in disappointment.

“No it isn’t I told you I’m not dying I’m just moving to another city! You can come visit anytime!” Gojo spoke in slight frustration.

“Okay! Okay! I got it!” You shouted back defeatedly as you raised your hands in the air.

“Promise you won’t forget me?” You added as you put your pinky out.

“You’re gonna make me make a pinky promise?” He deadpanned.

“Yes I will now quick do it!” You giggled back.

“So bossy…” he mumbled under his breath but nonetheless he stuck out his pinky, promising you that he would always remember you.

—

Now it’s been 5 years since that interaction, Gojo had not broken that promise only because you took it upon yourself to not let him go - moving with him to Tokyo and joining jujutsu high.

He thought you were crazy when you jumped on the same train as him the next morning but now he thanks you everyday for making such a spontaneous decision.

You two now share a home with two children who walk around like they own the place.

The two of you are currently on a walk home after another dinner date. Gojo has been insisting on taking you on dates to fancy restaurants for the past couple of weeks but whenever you two actually sit down for the date he seems distracted as if he’s hiding secrets that he desperately wants to say but can’t.

“I liked the restaurant from last week better.” You mumbled breaking the exhausting silence that has taken over you two for the entire night.

And to no surprise there was no reply from him.

“Toru!!” You shouted as he snapped back in to reality.

“W-what? Why are you screaming?” He questions in surprise.

“Nothing…” you spoke defeatedly.

“I’m cold Toru.” You started again as the winter breeze became stronger.

“I told you to bring your jacket you can’t have mine tonight.” He replied as he continued walking.

You knew it was silly to get upset over this, it’s only just a jacket. But it’s not just that, the mumbles under his breath and just how lost he is with you now is just making you question the relationship.

So you stop walking, waiting for him to notice you are no longer with him but he still keeps walking without turning back.

“Toru!!” You called out as he turned around in shock.

“What are you doing so far back?” He spoke softly slowly walking towards you taking your hand into his, to which you slyly took advantage of as you put your hand in his pocket where you felt a small velvet box, taking it out of his pocket in surprise.

“What’s this Toru?” You questioned as your eyebrows furrowed.

The way he turned around to see you was almost comical.

“Give that back!” He shouted while snatching it from your hand and shoving it back in the pocket as a big smile rolled across your lips.

“Oh my god Toru I can’t believe you! Is this what all the fancy dates were about?” You hummed out.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled as he looked down.

“Can you believe I thought you were gonna break up with me?” You added as a little laugh slipped.

“Let’s go home Toru”

Only to your surprise your boyfriend was no longer walking next to you, turning around only to see him on his knee.

—

Honestly really proud of this one hope you guys enjoy it🤍

Requests are open btw feel free to send anything through but keep it all appropriate.

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 2 months

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Leaving out how shitty of person Sakura is and how she literally never grows up. She was nasty at 8, nasty at 16, and continued to be nasty in her 30s when she became a parent...

People who genuinely don't like Sakura aren't sitting there disparaging her body, hair, or forehead. They're calling into question how her one goal in life was to become the wife of a boy she continued to disrespect for years. How she didn't take her job seriously and put her team in danger because of it, despite no one forcing her to become a ninja. How she continues to treat her own friends and even her daughter terribly.

Emotions?

You mean where she consistently invaded someone's personal space, refused to take NO for an answer, and then made his trauma about her contrived feelings?

Or how she invalidates everyone else's feelings in favor of her own and manipulates even her child's father, so he won't learn the truth of her behavior at home?

Ideals?

You mean the obsession with her looks and not training until Sasuke and Naruto almost die in front of her?

Or how even after that she didn't start taking things seriously until Sasuke left?

Or what about when all her character growth vanished because she got the chance to see Sasuke again and just stopped being helpful in the canon story and went back to being selfish and rude?

Dreams & Goals?

You mean the desire to be Sasuke's wife regardless of how many times he's pushed her away, told her she was annoying, and avoided her?

Or how her obsession with him was so intense she had to try and guilt trip him in the middle of a war for the sake of the world, into confessing non-existent love to her all because SHE claimed to love him?

Or how she was so attached to being an Uchiha wife that she wears his mon like a badge of honor on all of her clothes when he can't even force himself to wear it or even return to the village to see her and his kid.

Relationships?

You mean where she got the guy in the end, but still decided to be a sob story who did everything alone and then complained about getting no help?

You mean where she was hoping with everything in her being, that her new teammate would insult her supposed best friend too so she would be just as hurt?

Or is it how her obsession with a guy was so intense that she drugged her entire team and left them unconscious in enemy territory just so she could go off to see him to 'kill him' but still needed her drugged teammate to come and save her from being killed by him instead?

Or what about when she broke off her first ever friendship over her obsession simply because of hearsay?

Or what about when she taped her picture over the picture of her husband's friend, and then got angry because her daughter found out and dared to ask questions about it, so she threw a super punch at the space by her kid's feet and took the whole house down in the process?

Or what about that time where she was heavenly pregnant and decided to charge into a very dangerous situation, all for the sake of pride and not being left in her teammate's shadows as usual, and then literally put herself and her unborn child at risk?

Abilities & Strengths?

You mean how her stans try to act like she's surpassed her master by 17, and is better than every other woman in the series when she keeps getting curb-stomped and still needs to be saved by everyone else?

Like, no one is arguing that she hasn't improved as a ninja, cuz it's pretty damn obvious she did, but when y'all sit there being like, 'she's a goddess and Hinata sucks!' are you really being truthful? The enhanced punches aren't helping her all that much so all she's got is healing and even then, she's still not the best at it by adulthood. And she hasn't exactly made a name for herself as she never got out of her teammate's shadows... because she wasn't serious when it mattered.

Y'all brag about how 'Sakura won' when comparing her marriage to Ino's as if Ino isn't in a happy relationship. As if Ino doesn't have a good family unit and that Sai isn't a good father. Sasuke won't come back to the village and only talks to Naruto. Sasuke has never kissed Sakura but HAS kissed Naruto and a Dinosaur of all things. Sasuke didn't even know what his daughter looked like when he met her. When Sakura got stabbed while standing beside him, he didn't care, but when it happened to Naruto he asked after Naruto's well-being. Sakura got the guy she always salivated over, but she didn't actually win anything.

Your consistent need to degrade Hinata and Ino as characters to 'prove' that Sakura is somehow better than them, is also sus. Objectively, they have more character growth and better motivations, and while they might not be super strong and can't punch a house to smithereens in a tantrum, they're far better characters and have better relationships with the people in their lives.

But yeah. People not liking SH for all of these things that make up her character, means they are misogynists.

#anti sakura haruno #anti sasusaku #the irony of trying to act like you care about how ppl treat female characters when your whole account's filled with Hinata and Ino slander #like congrats on your activism there pal

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the-froschamethyst4 · 3 months

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Please, Father

𖤐Pairing: Priest! Ghost x Nun! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, NSFW, priest kink, language, mention of smoking and drinking, more use of Simon than Ghost, P in V, age gap, praise kink, fingering, eating out, masturbation, blowjob,

𖤐Summary: When Ghost gets wind of a 'disrespectful' nun, he puts her in her place

————

Ghost walks through the big church, humming a soft tune that he just randomly came up with. He makes it to the alter seeing two nuns 'praying' but really they were gossiping.

"I caught her smoking," one says.

"Smoking! Father Simon, will hate that, she better get her act together!" they were whispering back and forth with each other but Simon could hear them plane as day.

"I know, Mother Faith caught her with alcohol once in the bathroom after church the other day."

"What a skank-"

"That's a bit disrespectful, Sister Grace and Sister Amber," Simon interrupts their conversation.

"We are so sorry, Father," they bow their heads to him.

"All is forgiven, but please no gossiping within the church."

"Yes, Father," they say as they prayed again.

"And could I ask...who this Sister is you two are talking about?" He asked.

"The new Sister, Father." Sister Grace says.

"Sister Y/n." Sister Amber says.

Y/n was a new Nun in the Church. She was brought to the church to learn about her families 'history' but newsflash there was no history, her family just sought her to be disrespectful and needs to be taught a lesson.

She was the middle child out of her siblings and her parents thought she was running with the wrong crowd and sent her overseas to this church to become a nun.

But that was far from the truth. Y/n wasn't disrespectful at all, she was innocent and people just painted her to be a bad child, being a Nun was easy work for her, but being here made her start smoking and drinking.

Speaking of Y/n. She sits in the courtyard leaning on the stone wall looking over the people walking passed the church.

"You will get us in trouble if they see you smoking, Sister Y/n," Y/n had the cigarette between her lips as she turns to Mother Lucia. She took Y/n under her wing and understood Y/n's struggles.

"So, what...people already think I'm a bad Nun...it doesn't matter," she says, putting her cigarette out.

"Why not go to the confession booth?" Mother Lucia asked.

"It doesn't work...I feel like no one listens to me...not even Father Simon," she says as she walks with Lucia.

"Father Simon always listens." Lucia says.

"If so why has nothing I've confessed about change?"

"You have to change them yourself, Y/n."

"What a waste of time," she rolls her eyes.

"I understand you feel like no one is listening to you, but trust me, Father Simon will help you."

"If I give it another try, will you leave me alone about it?"

"I will," Mother Lucia smiles at her.

"Fine, I'll do it later today."

"Good. Come on, let's go pray." Y/n hates praying, she doesn't know what she is praying for.

----------

Father Simon fixed his suit and heads to the confession booth. Sitting on the other side, he hears the door on the other side open and then hears a voice.

"Father, I must confess," he listens and pays attention to the voice, it's one he's heard before. "I don't think I've sinned, but I am...confused..."

"How so?" He finally speaks.

"People don't understand me, they don't understand what I've been through in my life and I'm called a 'disrespectful' nun...I'm not disrespectful at all."

Simon knew who he was talking to now. He slight turns his head and sees the side of Y/n's face, she looked sad, she looks down at her fingers, playing with them unaware that Father Simon was looking at her.

He gets up and closes the door. Y/n hears the door shut and she turns not seeing his outline in the booth next to her.

"What a waste of time," she says, then her door opens, she is face-to-face with Father Simon.

"Come with me, Sister Y/n," he says, putting his hand out but then realizing what he was doing took his hand back. "Please, come with me," he says.

Father Simon and Sister Y/n walk through the church the other Nuns see Y/n with him. They started to gossip about how she might get kicked out.

Simon opens his office door letting Y/n in, he shuts the door and locks it without Y/n knowing.

"Please have a seat," he says, letting her sit on his black leather chair in front of his desk. Simon leans on his desk looking at Y/n.

"Father Simon, am I in trouble for my confession?" She asked, looking up at him.

"No, never, it's a confession booth for a reason, Sister Y/n...a little birdie told me...you were smoking?"

"I-I'm sorry, Father Simon...I'm...I started it 3 weeks after I've arrived here, I also have been drinking."

"And you confessed about being confused...not that you are smoking and drinking on church grounds."

"I'm sorry, Father," she bows her head and hot tears filled her eyes, Simon wasn't trying to intimidate her and wasn't going to bash her or was going to kick her out. "Please, Father...forgive me," tears landed on her hands.

Simon places his finger under her chin making her look up at him, he sees her red eyes from crying.

"Sister Y/n, please don't cry, you did nothing wrong, Mother Lucia had told me some of your hardships and what you've been through," Simon tells her.

"Please, don't kick me out, Father," she pleads.

"I would never kick out a lovely lady like you," he says. "Please...tell me what you want, Sister Y/n?" He asks.

"I...I don't know what I want..."

"I think you do...Y/n when's the last time you've touched yourself?"

"F-Father Simon, I don't think that's appropriate to ask-"

"Let's not start that, tell me."

"Since I've arrived here..." she says, looking down.

"So 8 months ago?" Simon questions.

"Yes, Father."

"Aww~ so sad," he let's go of her chin and leans on his desk. "Lift your skirt and start touching yourself," he says.

"W-What?"

"You heard me, Y/n...lift your skirt and start touching yourself," he repeats.

"U-Umm~"

"Do you need help?" He asks. He walks back to her dropping to his knees, he picks her legs up placing them on his shoulders. She let's out a soft gasp and he lifts her skirt up exposing a light pink lacy panties.

"Do you always wear little underwear?"

"I-It's all I have, Father," she says.

"They're pretty," he says, licking his lips. Simon moves his hand up her thighs and then gently drag down her clothed clit.

"Mmm," She moans.

"You're already wet?"

"I-I can't help it," she moans.

"I understand," he helps her just a bit by rubbing her wet folds, he takes a hold of her hand and brings it down to her clit making her stick her fingers inside of her.

"Keep going," he demands watching her finger herself, getting a close view of her touching herself, soft moans left her mouth, she covers her mouth muffling her moans but Simon moves her hand wanting to hear her soft moans.

As she starts picking up the pace with her fingers inside of her, she starts arching her back and cum leak from her lower half, Simon looks up at her and then leaned forward using his tongue licking up her cum.

She pulls her fingers out from her lower half his tongue touched her fingers, he moves back and spits on her clit and shoved his middle and ring finger inside of her.

He starts moving his fingers quickly in and out of her, she head goes back, her hands on his shoulders. She let's out a few soft moans and then he attached his lips to her clit, licking her bud and then shoving his tongue inside of her.

"AH-AH!"

"Shh~ lovely, don't be too loud now."

"I-I'm sorry," she says.

Simon moves his tongue and pulled his fingers out, he licks his fingers. He picks Y/n up setting her on his desk, he pushes her skirt up and then pulls her panties off her lower half.

She moans feeling the cold hit her clit, she sees him unbuckling his pants, and he pulls his dick out.

"Father Simon, is this...okay?" She asked.

"It'll be just fine, it is my church anyways."

"Have you done this with...others?"

"Never...only you, lovely," he says. He placed his hand on his desk trapping Y/n between them. He aligns himself up at her entrance and slowly pushes himself in.

She tossed her head back, moaning out his name.

"You are such a good girl...taking me so well..." he smirks.

"S-Simon," she moans.

"What do you want, lovely?" He asks her.

"Faster...pl-please," she moans. He does what she wants, he picks up the pace watching her bounce, listening to her moans, and watching her hands rest on his hips.

"You look so fucking gorgeous," he groans.

"Simon!" She moans.

"Who cares," he says, thrusting faster. She let's out a moan as his tip hit her spot.

He starts to become sloppy with his thrusts, he ends up coming along with Y/n. She collapse on his desk as he watches her catch her breath.

"You did so well," he says, cupping her face and kissing her.

----------

A Few Days Later

Simon sits in the confession booth listening to a new Nun confess, she was telling him about how she 'accidently' smoked and was caught by Mother Lucia.

As he 'listened' he was more focused on his sweet Nun giving him head in the other room. Simon was talking as Y/n's tongue swirled around his tip.

She moves her mouth off his dick and starts licking up his base, her tongue laid flat against his tip as cum leaked from him. She smiles taking in his cum and swallowing his cum.

As Simon was done with the confession, he grabs Y/n's jaw.

"Your turn, what is your confession?"

"I confess for falling for a Priest," she smirks before taking his dick back into her mouth.

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anm3mi · 1 year

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BAD HABIT ─ NETEYAM ⊹ ִֶָ

contents. fem!reader, hidden injury, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, confession

notes. this is crap, but i wanted to post something for my birthday as a gift to myself, also i didn't mean to do lo'ak so dirty in this, i'm sorry💀

the scene below rapidly evolved, full of fire, explosions, gun fire and loud war cries. harshly biting the inside of your cheek, you silently wish you could help your people in the fight, but you couldn't. you were ordered to only observe, not engage, and as a warrior, you had no other choice than to obey commands.

as the grip on your ikran tightened, you let out a shallow breath, soon interrupted from your thoughts by the duo on your side. "bro," lo'ak called out, his eyes switching between neteyam and you. the trio that was rarely seen apart. a few years ago, thanks to your own reckless behaviour, you quickly became friends with lo'ak, and soon neteyam came into the picture.

when the two of you were younger, you would often sneak out with lo'ak, messing around and causing trouble. but as you matured, you came to the realization that was not the way a warrior should behave. you realized you had people to protect, and with that, you begun to work on your behaviour, becoming less careless and more thoughtful about your actions. deep down, you were still a free-spirited child, curious to discover everything there was to, but you had people to depend on you and you couldn't disappoint them.

with your new mindset, you got into arguements with lo'ak more and more, as you became more like his brother, neteyam. always obeying the rules, being the perfect little warrior. you would no longer sneak out and mess around every night, instead, you would spend most of your time training.

neteyam took a notice of the obvious change between lo'ak and his friend. after witnessing one of your fights, neteyam carefully approached you, as you were more than glad to have somebody to rant to about the younger sully brother. from that moment, it didn't take long for the two of you to grew closer. it started with simple conversations about lo'ak, because even though he'll forever have a special place in your heart, he knew how to get on both your and neteyam's nerves.

after spending more time together, lo'ak was no longer the main topic of your conversations. you would talk about you interests, ideas, neteyam's duty as an older brother and your goal of becoming a warrior. and even though you were working on acting more mature, sometimes you needed at least a bit of freedom and to feel like a kid again, which lead you to talking neteyam into sneaking out. after reminding you countless times of how that was not a good idea, he gave in. but instead of running around the forest, causing trouble like neteyam expected, the two of you sat down on a patch of grass underneath a big tree and talked about the future.

after that night, you couldn't help but feel bad, as sneaking out to the woods in the middle of the night was your and lo'ak's thing, but you made sure to make it up for him. soon, the trio became less irritable when together. because even with all the heated arguments and disagreements, there were moments where the three of you would forget your differences. you adored those rare memories the most.

"we have to get down there!" lo'ak demanded. "no!" "no way, dad would skin us!" you and neteyam shouted over one another with clear disapprove written on your faces, as lo'ak glanced between the two of you once again, holding back a small smirk. you recognized the expression little too well. "lo'ak--" but before you could even finish your sentence, the younger brother was already descending towards the ground. without wasting a single second, the grip on your ikran tightened and you followed lo'ak, ignoring the now distant calls of your name coming from neteyam. even though you've tried to change - there were still moments where you wouldn't think before acting.

abandoning your ikran, you desperately looked around, clutching your bow close to your chest, after loosing sight of lo'ak. a lump formed inside your throat, but before you could let the uneasy feeling sink in, you gulped down and took a deep breath, letting out a war cry. you managed to catch the attention of a nearby human, who wasted no time, before pointing his weapon at you

but you were quicker.

within seconds, an arrow landed in the middle of the soldier's chest, causing him to drop on the ground with a thud. your chest was filled with pride, as you took out another arrow, scanning your surroundings. the sudden shout of your name caused you to snap your head around towards the source, your face lighting up at the sight of lo'ak, who had a huge grin on his face as he held a rifle and neteyam, who appeared almost relieved at the sight of you. running up to them, you let out a long breath you were holding, quickly throwing your arms around the two boys' head and bringing them closer.

your three heads butted against each other's. "we have to get out of here, before we get in more trouble." neteyam loudly announced over your loud surroundings, glaring at lo'ak. "we are already in trouble." shrugging your shoulders, you begun to back away, taking out one more of your arrows, grinning at the two brothers. the three of you were already disobeying the commands, so why not help your people while you were at it?

neteyam quickly followed, grabbing you by your forearm to stop you, almost sending you crashing into his chest, as you looked up to meet his eyes. before either of you could say anything, an explosion went off. your body harshly colliding with the ground was the last thing you felt, before everything went blank.

it didn't take long before you regained your senses. the first thing you noticed was the intense ringing in your ears, as you placed your hands on the hard earth, grounding yourself. harshly blinking your blurry vision away, you lifted yourself up from the ground way too quickly, causing you to stumble forward a bit, yet you managed to stay on your feet. a sudden way of pain coming from you lower abdomen caused you to let out a groan, but you choose to ignore it.

instead, you glanced around in a search of your weapon. you managed to find neteyam first. unconscious neteyam. with wide eyes, you let out a quick gasp, before stumbling to where his body laid. you fell down to your knees, ignoring your own pain, as you desperately scanned neteyam's entire body for any serious injuries. you let out a long shaky breath, when you didn't find any fatal ones.

gently placing your head on top of his chest in relief, you muttered his name, earning a low groan in response. your head shot up, noticing neteyam's eyes fluttering open. "hey, you're okay. you're okay..." you lifted your hands off his chest, muttering assuring words more to yourself than neteyam. opening your mouth to speak, you placed neteyam's arm over your shoulders as carefully as possible, but was soon interrupted.

"neteyam! y/n!" at the harsh loud call of your names, you looked towards the source of the sound, noticing jake quickly making his way towards the two of you. shit, you mentally cursed to yourself. "what the hell are you two doing here?!" kneeling down, jake eyed neteyam just like you did barely a minute ago, before taking him off you and throwing him over his shoulders. "i'm sorry- i'm sorry..." neteyam begun to mutter under his breath, yet got no response.

you quickly followed, but the burning sting on your stomach caused you to stop dead in your tracks. for the first time since you woke up, you decided to take a look at your injury. a hiss escaped your lips, when you noticed a long gash along your abdomen. placing your hand over the bleeding injury, hiding it, you bit your lower lip, almost drawing blood.

catching up with jake and neteyam, you were hit with a sudden realization. "where's lo'ak?!" you cried out, worry lacing your tone. "he's already on his way back." announcing, jake got on his ikran, still holding neteyam. you were able to swallow the lump forming in your throat, but what you weren't able to simply shake off was the uneasy feeling building up inside your stomach.

the last few minutes felt like a blur. there was fire everywhere, followed by constant war cries and shouting. you gulped down, as the adrenaline slowly, yet surely died down.

you called out for your ikran, one of your hands still on your stomach, while following behind jake and neteyam. you had no idea what to worry about first - lo'ak, neteyam or the fact all three of you were in huge trouble with jake, the toruk makto himself. the person that has been giving you orders for the past years and the person that took you under his wing, helping to raise you, when your parents weren't available, which happened quite often as they were busy with their own duties. to you the sully's were like your family you deeply cared for.

jumping off your ikran with a grunt, you patted the side of your ikran's head, before turning your attention towards the commotion. you awkwardly made your way towards jake, who was already scolding lo'ak and neteyam, with neytiri, kiri and tuk standing near them, ignoring how light-headed you felt. "you're supposed to be spotters!" angrily pointing his finger at neteyam, jake explained as lo'ak joined his brother's side, both of their eyes stuck on the ground.

"jesus, i let you three geniuses join a mission and you disobey direct orders!" you now stood beside lo'ak, your eyes switching between the ground, the brothers beside you and jake. eyes meeting neteyam's, you furrowed your brows - silently asking him if he was alright. in response, he sent a small nod your way, as you did the same to assure him. biting your tongue so hard you could taste metal inside your mouth, you were barely paying attention to what jake was saying, as you tried to stop your heavy eyelids from falling down. the pain started to become unbearable, as your knees were shaking.

"ma jake, your son is really bleeding." neytiri gave her mate a look. "mother, it's nothing--" shaking his head from side to side, neteyam stuttered. as he averted his gaze from his father, you managed to catch his eyes. his brows furrowed in confusion at the notice of your strange state, but before he could question it, jake begun to talk again.

"and you y/n," jake held back a sigh. "i expected this from lo'ak, but you? i'm disappointed." his words echoed inside your mind, as you looked at jake through your eyelashes. "i'm sorry, sir. i--" your words were slurred and before you could even finished your sentence, your head spun and you harshly fell to the ground.

the last thing you heard before blacking out was neteyam's call of your name. as you fell to the ground, your hand fell to the side, exposing the still bleeding injury. at the sight, jake's eyes widened. "get her inside!" he ordered, and neteyam wasted no time before picking you up as gently as possible, carrying you inside the healing hut, where his brother was already being healed.

"what happened?" with a worried expression, lo'ak called out. "she's loosing blood, she needs help. immediately. " jake explained, not taking his eyes off the your unconscious form. you were placed on the floor, as mo'at begun to take care of your wound. "is she going to be okay?" glancing at his grandma, neteyam demanded, but got no answer.

"bro," placing a hand on his shoulder, lo'ak murmured. neteyam glanced over his shoulder at lo'ak's unreadable expression. shaking his head from side to side, neteyam swiftly pushed his brother's hand away, "this is your fault." neteyam pointed his finger at lo'ak's chest, before storming off. "neteyam!" kiri shouted after him, but her calls fell on deaf ears. quickly picking up a few supplies, she hurried after her brother. after all, he was still injured and needed to be taken care of.

"she's going to be alright, i feel it." kiri softly announced, after finding her brother. he wasn't far from the hut, already feeling guilty for leaving your side. "she's strong." kiri added. "she followed him. she followed lo'ak down to the battlefield." trying to swallow the guilt, neteyam looked up at his younger sister. he only felt more guilty after realising she was hiding her injury from them. from him. "you know y/n, she doesn't want us to worry about her. always putting others first." kiri sat down next to her brother, nudging his side, thinking about your bad habit of putting needs of others first. "she's amazing, isn't she?" a smirk made its way onto kiri's face. "yeah," letting out a long breath, neteyam simply agreed. "she is."

"now let me help you." pulling her supplies closer, kiri announced, earning a quick nod from neteyam, as he turned his back to her. a hiss escaped his lips, when kiri harshly pressed on his wound. "sorry." she muttered, but neteyam knew she didn't really mean it. it was his sister's way of calling him stupid for obeying direct orders from their father.

"the first thing she did when we arrived was asking me, if i was okay. me." neteyam sharply inhaled at the burning sensation, as kiri smeared a paste along his injuries. "you should talk to her. i'm pretty sure y/n has something to say as well." shrugging her shoulders, kiri announced. silence fell over the two siblings, as kiri continued to mend his wound and neteyam sat in silence, confusion smeared across his face upon hearing kiri's words.

the day was long gone, as the stars now occupied the night sky. the village was quiet, everyone peacefully asleep in their homes - everyone except for neteyam. after kiri took care of his own wounds, he made a straight beeline towards the healing tent, as he was met with your unconscious body, your injury now stitched up and covered.

slowly, he sat down next to you, his grandmother's presence going unnoticed by him, until she decided to speak; "she needs to rest for two weeks. the cut was quite deep." mo'at suddenly explained, almost startling neteyam. he looked at her with widened eyes, as she continued to grind herbs together, before glancing back at you. "she won't like hearing that." neteyam admitted, earning a simple hum from his grandmother in response.

mo'at exited the tent in silence, leaving neteyam and you alone. carefully, neteyam took your hand and placed it in his lap, as his thumb caressed over your bruised knuckles. he was rarely seen like this - uneasy, lost deep in his own thoughts and neteyam was aware of the affect you had on him. the way his stomach would flutter with butterflies at your simple touch or the way his heart would beat hard against his ribcage when you were in danger. as much as neteyam preferred to be in denial about it, he knew he was head over heels for you.

and with how deeply he cared for you, he couldn't help, but be a bit angry. not only at lo'ak, but you as well. if you wouldn't have followed his brother into the battlefield, you wouldn't be injured - you wouldn't have to hide your injury, which was another thing that upset him. letting out a long shaky breath, neteyam gently placed his head on your thigh - the only part of your body that was uninjured, and with your hand still in his, he soon fell asleep.

the eclipse was near and his parents grew worried. they knew where their son was, but most importantly, they knew no matter the amount of pursuing, he wouldn't leave your side - not until you woke and the two of you could finally talk.

his slumber was interrupted by a murmur of his name, as he let out a small groan in response. "neteyam, i can't feel my leg." this time, you spoke more clearly, startling the boy awake. with wide eyes, neteyam looked down at you, before glancing towards your leg, where he managed to fall asleep. "y/n! i'm sorry--" "it's fine, just next time please don't use my legs as your personal pillow." your voice was hoarse, laced with sleepiness. leaning onto your elbows, you attempted to sit up, but neteyam's hands gently pushed you back down at the sound of a painful hiss coming from you. "you're on a bed rest. two weeks." he announced, earning a scoff in response from you. "yeah, no." you muttered, before rubbing your tired eyes. your whole body was sore and in pain, yet all you yearned to do was get up and properly stretch.

"neteyam?" raising a brow, you glanced to your side at the boy, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression. "neteyam, what is--" you opened your mouth to speak, but was interrupted: "you didn't tell me." he suddenly declared. "what?" you attempted to sit up once again, and this time there was no pair of hands stopping you, as neteyam held his hands back. "when we came back yesterday, you didn't tell me. you didn't tell any of us." neteyam continued to explain, while you carefully studied your bandaged injury. his was voice low, yet stern - almost emotionless.

"you could've died, y/n." upon hearing the sudden crack in his voice, you froze. finally, you peeled your eyes away from your body and met his eyes. tears were threatening to spill, yet neteyam used all his remaining strength to not let them. "you need to stop following lo'ak, because then it ends up with one of you being injured and me having to clean up the mess." neteyam blurted out, yet soon regret his words at the sight of your hurt expression.

"is this what this is about?" you insisted, fury lacing your tone. "i am not one of your responsibilities, neteyam." the way you said his name with such venom caused his stomach to tighten. "i didn't ask you to cover for me, i can take care of myself. as you can see - i am alive, so i don't see why you're still here--" ignoring the burning pain across your body, you continued to rant, irritated by your sore body, headache and the guilt you felt.

"because i care about you!" silence fell over the hut, as you could only hear the echo of his words. with glossy eyes, you stared into his, before biting your tongue. "yesterday, when you fell unconscious, for a second i thought you were going to die and-" neteyam begun to explain, his eyes switching between yours and the floor. you slowly realized this was the first time you saw neteyam almost nervous during a conversation, unable to keep eye contact and stammering. that was the affect you had on him - you made him nervous, in a good way, of course. but you also made him scared. scared of loosing you.

"-and i didn't know what to do. i felt so guilty for not trying harder to stop you from following lo'ak and i still do." your expression softened, as you felt your heart tug. "neteyam..." you softly whispered, as you reached to hesitantly cup his face with your hand. "i'm sorry for worrying you, i truly am." your eyes did not once leave his, as honesty laced each of your words. neteyam's eyes stared into yours, before bringing his hands up and placing it above yours that still caressed his face - his skin burning upon your comforting touch. "i care about you, too, you know?" you added, voice barely above a whisper.

without a word, neteyam slowly nodded in response. "never scare me like that again, please." pressing his forehead against yours, he whispered. biting the inside of your cheek, you mentally braced yourself, as your heart beated harshly against your ribcage - threating to escape any second. closing your eyes, you quickly pecked neteyam's lips. "i won't." opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of neteyam's flustered and shocked expression at what you couldn't help, but grin.

"do it again..." he whispered, slightly leaning closer, his hand sneaking towards the back of your neck. "what was that? i couldn't quite hear you, nete." you teased, your thumb caressing his cheek. "kiss me again, please." with determined, yet soft eyes - neteyam repeated his words. you let out a small chuckle, before leaning in once again. this time - it wasn't a simple peck. your shared kiss was filled with comforting warmth, as your stomach went crazy with butterflies, just as neteyam's.

as you pulled away, neteyam unconsciously chased after your lips, causing a heartfelt chuckle to rise from your throat. your geninue moment was interrupted by a sudden painful hiss. with wide eyes, neteyam's hands left your body with the worry of hurting you, before searching your body for any source of pain. using the palm of your hand, you covered your wound carefully, the harsh movement of your body disturbing in.

"i'm okay." eyes shot closed, you let out a shaky breath through gritted teeth, assuring neteyam, yet he didn't seem convinced. "you have to rest." neteyam announced, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. in response, you rolled your eyes and let out a small groan. "i don't know if i can just lay here for two weeks." you admitted, before laying down. neteyam followed, resting on his side next to you. "well, you have no choice." with a small smile, neteyam explained, as you suppressed another eye roll.

"promise you'll visit me?" looking at him through your eyelashes, you asked. "of course i will." neteyam assured, causing you to let out a small, relived breath. silence fell over the hut - but it wasn't uneasy, rather comforting, as you carefully studied neteyam's features up close, before you felt your eyelids become heavy. even with your eyes closed, you could sense neteyam's eyes glued to you and you could feel your face burning underneath his stare.

"i really like you, nete. you know that, right?" you muttered through a yawn. "i know, y/n, i like you too." shyly, neteyam admitted, softly caressing the top of your head. the corners of your lips tugged into small, as neteyam's expression mirrored yours. using one of his arms to support his head, his other one was lightly placed over you - the two of you asleep within minutes. you knew the next couple of weeks are going to be rough, you still had to scold lo'ak and apologize to the sully's for scaring them, but now, you could only savor the moment with neteyam you were in.

#avatar #avatar twow #avatar x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #avatar twow x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar ☆ ★#anm3mi's works ☆ ★

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saltofmercury · 1 year

Note

Part two <3

Pairing: König x reader

Summary: Aftermath of Games

A/N: just kidding!!! Here's part 2! Happy February fools!

Games part ii

König stood inside his empty house. He never understood why you were so childish sometimes. He never understood why he couldn’t communicate. He wasn’t upset at you, he just assumed you had wanted privacy when reading a card addressed to him. Shit, he would want privacy reading a Valentine’s Day card.

He walked to the end of the couch, seeing the discarded card on top of his coffee table, with your mug next to it. The blue and yellow pieces of Sorry!, had been left untouched, seeing that König was going to win one more round.

He smiled at the game, the colorful mug you left, and then, at the card. What a shitty way to end the night.

He sat down and reached over to open the card again, small colorful hearts surrounding it. He knew what this meant. The card clearly wasn’t a token of friendship. Making friends was hard for him. The minute he found someone like you he just wanted to keep that platonic relationship he had craved so much as a child.

He loved how you two created a friendship from the start. He felt so comfortable and secure around you. He could sit around his house and do nothing. He never had to think about entertaining you; he could just be him at his house.

You guys would play games on the nintendo switch, or you would watch him play games. There was a comfort between you two that you shared. He waited for phone calls from you to talk about your day, sometimes he felt like you were so far away when you stayed at your place, went to work, and then called him at night.

Although, there were many cases where your “friendship” crossed the line into “lovers.”

He knew what you did to him. He couldn’t help how his heart ached at night when you wouldn’t spend the night. How waking up in the middle of night because of a nightmare had him reaching for you, feeling your warmth next to him, calming him down.

He loved the way his body gravitated towards you, wherever you were in the house. How he needed to take a hug from you, steal a kiss from you, even just the way you touched the small of his back trying to get through when he was standing in the kitchen.

Especially when you guys made love in the dark, he remembered the curves of your body, the sounds emitted from you, the placement of your hands on him wanting to touch all of him, and breathy moans and slow exhales you exerted.

Friends did not do this.

He knew he liked you, but he loved your friendship as well. Most of his relationships either ended as friendships that never blossomed, mostly in part of the men and women that were being polite telling him “I think I see ourselves as friends” and did not want to continue the relationship, or quick hookups that would fizzle out because he could not reciprocate what they wanted in a relationship.

He opened the card, god… he felt like such an asshole. Scribbled across the entire card was your perfect penmanship, confessing to how you appreciated this relationship but wanted more.

You stared at the ceiling in your room.

God you felt stupid. Taking a leap of faith based on what you had felt. It was clear that you misread things, but you weren’t going to continue being in a situationship. You had made up your mind.

Embarrassment filled your chest and head, and you could feel the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes.

Your phone next to you pinged.

Well so much for space.

“Checking you made it home okay. Are you alright?”

Read the message from König.

You kind of hated how he didn’t chase after you. He always lets you storm off during an argument. It wasn’t like in the movies or books you read about romance.

Another ping.

“Can we talk?”

It was now or never.

“I’m fine, I can talk.” You typed out.

Your phone began to buzz and your heart started to beat so fast and loud in your head. You answered it.

“Hi”, the hoarseness in your throat sounded awful.

“Hi schatz, man.. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying” you lied,

“I know when you’re crying, I know when you’re upset.” He said sternly.

“Okay m’sorry” you exhaled, feeling reprimanded instead of comforted.

“I want to come over, can I?”

“I just want space right now, I think it would be best if you don't, I don’t like crying in front of you.”

Fuck why were you so stubborn?

“Hartnäckig…” he mumbled. He knew you were being stubborn.

“Okay then I’ll stay on the phone with you and tell you this,”

A brief inhale and exhale.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this, I didn’t mean for this to blow up the way it did. I just thought, maybe it would be embarrassing for you to see me read this letter in front of you.”

Silence

“I never want to make you feel embarrassed for something as thoughtful as you did, I’m kind of an awful person for —“

“You’re not an awful person König.” You managed to put out.

“I feel like I am. I’m just trying to say, I know it took a lot from you to write these things down and for me to dismiss them without really knowing what was inside the card, it’s awful.”

You sniffled. You wanted to forgive him, but part of you realized he hasn’t brought up where it would place you two.

“Schatz, are you still there?”

“Yeah”

“Can I tell you a story about Valentine’s Day?”

After he had explained the story of the kids teasing him, now you felt bad for even thinking that he was trying to dismiss your feelings.

You guys stayed up until 4 in the morning mumbling to one another childhood stories.

You laughed softly.

“I love when you laugh,” he said softly over the phone. “I miss you, I wish you were here tonight.”

“I know I’m sorry for the miscommunication on my part.”

“On our parts…” he started up again.

“Why don’t we go to sleep?” You suggested trying to finally let go of the miscommunication that happened.

“I can’t sleep without you, ” he responded.

You sighed, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m coming over” he blurted out

“No don’t it’s…” you briefly checked the clock by your bedside “it’s 4 in the morning crazy.”

“You’re going to let me sleep alone?”

“Yes just for tonight” you teased.

You could hear him shuffling on the other end. You knew he was up to something.

“Don’t come over here! I’m serious, it's so late and I don’t want to risk an accident.”

“Schatz please, I want to make it up to you I promise I’ll be safe.”

He couldn’t bear it any longer. Everything was better when you were next to him and he wasn’t going to let a small squabble prevent him from seeing you or sleeping next to you.

“König…” you started, knowing he was probably looking for his scarf to hide his face, and looking for his shoes.

“Give me 15 minutes.” He hung up the phone.

You sighed, felt shy again.

Within 15 minutes, his black g-wagon pulled up the curb. You saw him climb out in the darkness, his blondish hair glistening in twilight.

He had barely tied his shoes, some of the laces hanging loose and you could see the scarf hanging down, not wrapped around his face. He practically jumped from the car, to the curb, and jogged toward your door. There was anticipation, no control to see you.

You opened the door before he could knock. His wide legs stumbled in and he had wrapped his hand around the back of your neck connecting his lips with yours. The kiss was urgent, feverish. He opened wider to have your tongue inside his, his other hand pushing, crushing your body onto his.

You had pulled back, exhaling out of breath. His bare face was there in front of you.

He looked at you, smiled and kissed your lips again.

“I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.”

You kept breathing hard. Mesmerized by his face.

“It’s okay, you’re not”

“I read your letter…” he continued looking down into your eyes, looking at your lips

“You don’t kiss your friends, and I don’t want to be.” He exhaled, picked you up and carried you to bed.

Dumping you on the bed he pulled off your clothes to just down your underwear and then stripped himself down.

He smiled, “I know, I know no outside clothes on your bed.”

Climbed on top of the bed and pulled you close to him. He breathed a sigh of relief, bringing himself to the crook of your neck.

You also felt relieved, playing with his hair. Everything was okay now. The twilight soon turned to early morning and you fell asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, the warmth next to you was cold. Your side freezing and missing him. You reached out for him or the blanket, but König was gone…

You sat up and looked around.

Was it all a dream that you had played in your head? You checked the clock on your phone, 10:15.

You stood up, you could’ve sworn he was here. You felt him last night. You walk into your living room.

Standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by what seemed like thousands of red, pink, white roses was König, gently placing the vases everywhere. Your entire living room covered in petals, and a floral scent surrounding you.

“König?” You say in shock. How did he get so many?!

He turned around sheepishly and smiled

“I told you I would make it up to you.”

#könig #könig x reader #call of duty #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x you #könig mw2 #cod könig #könig x y/n #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig fluff #könig imagine

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songmingisthighs · 6 months

Text

Feelings, Feelings

group : ateez

pairing : wooyoung × reader (platonic)

genre : oneshot, hurt/comfort

wc : 1.4 k

warning : shitty friends lmao

a/n : requested by anon

buy me coffee ?

You were not in the best mood and it showed.

The people who woukd usually greet and talk to you seem to avoid you because you looked like you didn't want to be bothered. If the look on your face didn't give it away, your hastened pace and rigid body language absolutely did.

See, you weren't having a bad day. You were actually on the verge of an emotional breakdown. It all started about a week ago when your group of friends talked about going for a night out, bar hopping or clubbing or something and they talked over you completely. One person actually had the decency to ask your opinion directly while the others only said things like 'oh she wouldn't like that' 'that's so not (y/n)' 'she'd just be in the corner being a bummer' and more. While you do realize they were just joking around and trying to be funny, it hurt you that they'd just talk FOR you. Sure, you really didn't like their plans but it HAD been a while since all of you met up and hung out.

So imagine your surprise to see your friends posting a picture of their drinks on their social media accounts.

You stood frozen in the middle of the grocery store when you saw one of their Instagram stories and you even had to sit in a corner as you scroll through your group chat that had been practically dead for 2 days, wanting to see if you missed any updates because as far as you know, they were only talking about a plan and not making actual plans. Now you know why those bitches were so fucking silent.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't 703," Wooyoung called, snickering to himself as he sidled up next to you who was waiting for the elevator. Usually, you wouldn't mind the younger guy because you had been used to his voice. How can you not? The first day you saw him was when he moved in for college. You had just finished your first week of internship and he had accidentally bumped into you. Literally, he dropped a thermos on your foot which prompted you to cry in front of a very confused and panicked 17 year old Wooyoung. Though he was unsure, he sat his boxes aside and just sat there while listening to you rant about how he shouldn't grow up, get out of college, and just go back to his parents' house because working and being independent was so overrated. Rather than focusing on how you were spewing your guts to a complete stranger, Wooyoung was more focused on why a 20 year old sounded like she had gone through 4 divorces and a public scandal.

It was odd how you were able to be vulnerable with him and it was even more odd to find him in front of your door that night with two packs of ramyeon and a huge grin on his face. He confessed he had bothered approximately every apartment on floors 1-6 and half of floor 7 looking for you because he wanted to make sure you were okay. You should've been embarrassed that a guy who's practically a child had to come and comfort you but you didn't. He made you feel comfortable.

Unlike now.

"Go away Wooyoung, I'm not in the mood," you sighed, shifting the grocery bags in your hands slightly. Wooyoung didn't listen, however, instead, he leaned his shoulder on the wall and ducked his head to meet your eyes which you avoided, "I thought you would've been busy with your friends tonight or something. I had to rethink of a new plan to make a move on you!" He teased.

The mention of your friends and hanging out, your blood boiled and your grip on the grocery bags tightened. "Wooyoung," you warned, jaw tightening as you felt your eyeballs burn. "I'm just saying, I thought my sexy little noona would've been out and about," he grinned innocently (despite the words he used).

You dropped your grocery bags and turned around, making way to the stairs. "Whoah, wait!" Wooyoung grabbed your hand and turned you around, "What's wrong?" He said with furrowed eyebrows, genuinely confused as to why you acted that way. He was even more confused when you yanked your hand off his grip and saw tears welling in your eyes.

"You can seriously shove whatever it is you think of me down your throat, Wooyoung," was all you said before you trodded upstairs to your floor.

It was a mistake for you to do that because once you finally made it, you were panting and the blurriness in your eyes was not only caused by your tears but also from the exercise. So you weren't sure if the sight of Wooyoung in front of your apartment was real or a hallucination. He even had your groceries in his hands.

"Go home, Woo," you sighed, sniffling as you fumble for your keys in your bag. This time he wasn't as vocal, only shrugging until you opened your door and slipped in together with you despite your clear expression of annoyance but you still let him in. You both were silent as you removed your shoes and settled your things, Wooyoung helping put things away which was how he noticed you buying your favourite cereal and milk, a comfort "dinner" for whenever you felt like your life was on the verge of tipping into pure chaos and you just don't have any time and energy to give a fuck about crap like dinner. "I'm not going to entertain you, Woo," you stated, voice cracking slightly as tears welled up in your eyes again all the while you tried to busy yourself by putting things away.

You hadn't noticed it initially but when you turned to kick him out again, you saw him with a bowl of your cereal and a soft smile on his face. "If what you need is me out, then I will go but not until I see you eat," he stated, putting the bowl on your counter and sauntering over to pull you so he could sit you down to eat.

In your head, you knew how ashamed you were for needing Wooyoung who's around 3 years younger than you to take care of you. But it felt nice to be tended to for once. Amongst your friends who were around the same age as or older than you, you were always expected to keep things together because they don't really have the time or energy to deal with what they labelled as "personal bullshit". Or maybe they're just a bunch of bitches dressed in fake prada and cheap jewellery that were slowly turning green with each wear. Wooyoung had once expressed how he doesn't like your friends because of what they were saying about you to your face even in front of him who was a stranger to them but they didn't seem to care. Heck, they seem to enjoy being annoying, catty bitches.

Thinking that you weren't going to eat in front of him, Wooyoung smiled and squeezed your hand once before turning to leave but this time, you stopped him. You grabbed him by the arm and with quivering lips, you looked up at him, "D-do you think y-you can accompany me eat on the couch? I-I think I'm gonna need company," you asked.

Without hesitation, Wooyoung nodded and pulled you into a gentle and warm hug. "Can this 'company' include watching A Man Called Otto? Because San watched it without me and he cried so I wanted to know if the movie was really THAT sad or if he was just being a bitch," he pulled away just as he heard you chuckling and felt you nodding, "Only if you have a bowl of cereal with me."

As you watched Wooyoung busy himself with getting his own bowl of cereal and making both of you comfortable on your couch, you realized that it was stupid of you to have been upset to be left behind by your supposed friends. Sure, it sucks to be singled out and heard how your friends make you sound so lame. But honestly? Being in your own home with Wooyoung loudly commenting about the movies as you spoon cereal and milk into your mouth, you wouldn't have it any other way.

network :

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best-childhood-book · 10 months

Text

#best childhood book #poll #preliminary round #the strictest school in the world #tj young and the orishas #confessions of a so called middle child #the cat club #unicorns of the mist #beatrice bailey #bella sara #you be the jury #the o’clock tales

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viking-raider · 11 months

Text

A Witcher's Soul

Summary: When tragedy strikes, Geralt of Rivia seeks comfort in the arms of one woman.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: PG - Abandonment Issues, Child Abandonment, Fluff Parental Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Memories, Bathing, Love Confession, Soft!Geralt, Character's Death

Inspiration: This scene from Season Three of the Witcher! 😭

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

Geralt rode Roach hard, only deviating from his path to guide the powerful black horse around a tree or rock. He gripped the worn brown reins tightly, feeling them cut into the top of his bare hands as he urged Roach to move faster, foam already starting to gather around his bit. The Witcher's mind raced, desperately trying to push down the power of the news he received from a good friend, while trying to help someone he'd found on the job. He struggled for a few days, trying to push it down, telling himself it didn't hurt.

She had left him almost a century ago, at this point.

Witchers had no emotions, he told himself, as a means to drive them back. It didn't work however, the emotions continued to smash into him.

So, he left in the dead of night, not a word to Anika, Otto, or even Jaskier, of where he was going or why. Though, he was sure Anika would know why. Geralt covered almost a whole league by the end of morning, cutting through the forest outside of Murivel, until he reached a modest clearing and an even more modest, three-room hut constructed in the middle of it, a stone and clay well on the left side, the bucket swaying softly in the breeze.

Roach came to a hard stop, hooves cutting deep grooves in the grassy earth, with Geralt wasting no time in dismounting the stallion and stomping across the yard to the front door. His sore and broken heart rose up with hope that it would swing open and the face of the one he was seeking would appear, to greet him. But, the door didn't open to him, instead he was greeted another way.

“Geralt!” A soft and confused voice called out.

He swung around on his boot heels, his golden eyes zeroing in on you as you stood just passed the tree-line, a basket of herbs and mushrooms balanced on your hip, as you regarded the Witcher. You hadn't seen Geralt in over a year, since he decided he needed to go to Cintra to make sure Ciri was safe from the sea of black and gold he'd seen on the Amell Pass. After the Dragon Hunt. You had heard the thunder of the new Roach's hooves coming up the path to your home, while you were gathering in the forest, and came to see who it was. You were surprised to see Geralt in general, but you were worried by how rushed he seemed.

“Geralt, what's amiss?” You asked, coming to close the gap between you. “Are you well?” You inquired, seeing the unusually deep crease between his brow and across his forehead, and how his complexion was paler, almost matching his hair.

Geralt took a deep breath through his nose, lips pressed together for a moment, working up the strength to speak. “I need you.” He finally rasped, his expression breaking into something soft and vulnerable.

“You rode all the way from wherever, just for time with me?” You smirked, tisking.

“Please.” Geralt replied, reaching out to grasp your free hand and squeezing it, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his expression breaking even more.

You frowned at him, all jest dying inside of you, seeing his wall fall before you and the pain he was being crushed underneath. “Let's go inside.” You whispered softly, tilting your head towards your door.

Nodding, Geralt reached out for your basket, but shaking your head and swatting it away gently, you pushed the front door open and put your hand on his arm, guiding him inside. You set your basket on a large table and turned towards the just as large fireplace, grabbing wood from the dog grate and tossed it in. Building it back up, sparks flying up the chimney. You moved to Geralt, who stood motionless beside the table, taking his hand and guided him over to the chair at the head of the table, gently coaxing him to sit down, then knelt before him. Grabbing the heel of his boot and his calf, you tugged the muddy, black leather off and set it underneath the table, followed by its twin. There was dust and mud covering his black clothing. You brushed your palm over his knee and thigh, casting some of it off, before standing up again and starting for the next room, only to have Geralt grasp your wrist and pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he buried his face into your chest, and breathed deep.

You frowned at him, sympathetically brushing your fingers through his hair and pulling it free of its usual tie, his white strands cascading over his shoulders. You nosed the top of his head, caressing the back of his hair and squeezing his bicep, still confused as to why he was there and what was ailing him so much.

“Geralt.” You whispered into his strands. “Tell me, what's happened?” You asked, your fingertips brushing the back of his neck. “Did you not make it to Ciri in time? Has something happened to her or Jaskier?” You inquired, licking your lips as your heart thundered against his forehead. “I noticed that isn't the Roach you had the last time you were here.” You pointed out, remembering the sweet Chestnut you used to feed and brush, when Geralt stayed with you, but now there was a sturdy black stallion standing in your dooryard.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, they're both fine.” He rasped, turning his head to rest his temple against your collarbone. “As for the last Roach, she was killed by a Chernobog, a few months ago.” He added, softly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You cooed, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Then, what's the matter with my Wolf?”

He was still and quiet again, for a long time, his fingers restlessly toying with the strings at the back of your bodice, before suddenly standing with you still in his arms, and turning to sit you on the chair in his place. He went out the door, rounding the house to the well and dropped the bucket to the bottom. You watched Geralt come back inside with each bucket, holding it in one hand, like it was the weight of one of his swords. Pausing in the open doorway and giving you a hard stare every time, as if he expected to find you moved off the chair or vanished completely. Only then, did he go to your large cauldron, dumping the full bucket in and returning back outside for another.

“Are you going to tell me, what's the matter, Geralt?” You asked, your concern only mounting with his bizarre behavior and irregular moodiness.

“Nothing.” He grunted harshly, setting the cauldron over the fire to boil.

“That's a lie.” You answered, just as sharply, being one of the few people on the Continent brave enough to talk back to the White Wolf in such a manner; other than Jaskier and Ciri. “You wouldn't have come from the bum fuck of Nilfgaard to see me, if something wasn't bothering you.” You insisted, glaring at his back.

Geralt ignored you, heading towards the back rooms of your home and leaving you more worried and annoyed at his behavior. He came back a few minutes later with no shirt on, and your suspicions on his task were answered. Despite what the people of the great Continent thought of Geralt of Rivia, he did not in fact like smelling of death, blood and horse. When he stopped for the winter at Kaer Morhen or with you, he bathed regularly. He just found it more a nuisance to do so while on the Trail, since the next Contract or sleeping rough would only dirty him up again.

Pulling the roiling cauldron off the fire, Geralt carried it to the large, soaking tub you boosted in your bathroom. He filled it almost to the brim, before adding in Lavender and Sage bath salts to the steaming water. A fragrant haze filled the room as he tugged his pants off and tossed them over a chair in the corner. He strode out of the bathroom, returning to you, still sitting where he'd left you. He took your hand and helped you stand, untying the strings of your bodice and tugging down your dress, so it pooled around your feet, before slipping his arm under your knees and an arm around your shoulders, scooping you up against his chest.

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he carried you to the bathroom. “I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, as he stepped into the tub, lowering you both into it.

“And I, you.” Geralt replied, holding you in his lap and resting back. “Ciri and Jaskier are well, by the way.” He said, his fingertips stroking the skin of your side, beneath the water. “Ciri is being watched over by Yennefer, who's helping her try and control her magic and Jaskier was with Anika, last I left him.”

“Anika?” You frowned, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “Why is Julian with Anika? If he's well.”

Geralt's thick, scarred arms squeezed around you, almost painfully, making you squirm in his lap. “You remember my mother.” He mumbled, barely audible. “Visenna.” He said so quietly, you had to strain to hear it.

“Yes, I recall you telling me of her, a few years after we met.” You murmured, seeing the strained expression on his face. “And that you'd seen her at Sodden Hill. She healed you, after the ghoul bite.”

“I remember bits of my life with my Ma.” He rasped, his grasp on you loosening, but he still held you close to him. “She smelled like embers, from keeping our measly fires alive during the long nights.” He told you, the crease between his golden eyes slowly vanishing as he went back to that time, tapping into that abandoned little boy, he had never grown out of, but skillfully concealed from those he didn't cherish. “We were quite poor, even though she was skilled as a healer. So, she-” He paused, his voice thickening and his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You looked up at him, seeing the redness in the whites of his eyes and the unshed tears threatening on his lashes. It frightened you to see the Witcher like this. In the fifteen years you'd known him, you'd seen him in many states, but you had never seen Geralt cry. Reaching up, you cupped his scruffy cheek in your hand and thumbed a droplet away, pressing your lips to his jawline.

“She would use her magic to create the most elaborate meals that we couldn't afford.” He continued, tilting his head into your hand. “There was—I would have done anything to make her smile. And yet,” He voice broke again, this time with more than just hurt and abandonment, but with resentment. “The day she left me, she was sick. She needed some water, so I went to get her some, and when I came back to the road...she was gone.” He croaked, pushing his jaw forward and shaking his head, trying to deny the burn of more tears.

His fingertips pressed into the skin of your side and back. “I called for her.” He said weakly, his golden eyes off in the distance. “But she was gone.” He whimpered, the tears finally winning out, dripping off his jaw and into your hair and the bath water.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to his neck and hugging your arms around his torso. You had known Visenna had abandoned Geralt. He had told you that bluntly not long after you had met. The torture of her leaving him there, to be taken away to Kaer Morhen, where he'd suffered such agony in his transformation into a Witcher, at just five years old, coupled with the pain he never got over with his mother.

You wondered how Geralt had survived at all.

But no, Geralt was strong, even from a young age.

“She's dead.”

You pulled out of your thoughts, shocked. “She's dead?”

“She was giving aid to some villager and was mistaken as an Elf.” Geralt told you, bringing a hand out of the water to wipe it over his face. “They beat her severely and she later died, at the Temple of Mourning, where Anika was. Which is how I found out.”

“I'm so sorry, Geralt.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, connecting the dots to his arrival. “I hope the two of you were able to make some sort of easement between you, when you last met.”

Geralt pressed his lips together and buried his face into your hair, his throat too tight to speak in the moment. He considered how he and Visenna last met, in the forest outside of Sodden Hill, as he laid feverish and hallucinating from a Ghoul bite to the leg. After saving a poor Merchant, who was trying to bury the dead from a camp Nilfgaard had attacked. At first, she had tried to conceal her identity from him, pretending to be Renfri, Yennefer and finally, you, before he managed to discover who it really was. Triggered by her belief that, People linked by Destiny, will always find each other.

He asked her what she thought of his eyes. Demanding to know, if she knew what they did to improve a Witcher's eyes. Telling her that it didn't always work. She had begged him to stop. Calling him by his name, only for Geralt to reject her right to do so, like she had rejected him. He had begged to know if she knew how many boys actually made it through the Trials. Tears filled both of their eyes as they stared at each other in the darkness.

In the end, his Ma had left him, again, fading into the night, trying to convince him she was just a dream and he would never get the answer he wanted.

So, had he made peace with his mother abandoning him, forcing him on the Path of the Witcher?

No. Geralt decided in the end, he had not.

The only thing Geralt did know was he wanted you. You were the first person he had thought of, upon finding out about his mother's death. Wanting to feel you against him and needing the comfort only you were able to provide. You shifted out of Geralt's lap, moving around him, while reaching over the side of the tub, grabbing the small cup that sat on the foot board there. Dipping it into the water and gently pouring it over Geralt's silvery-white strands, you set aside and took up a round, solid bar of honey and chamomile scented soap, using it to work his hair into a rich lather. Geralt moaned, feeling your fingers massage his scalp, resting forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees, eyes falling shut.

“I love you.” He murmured, quietly.

You stopped, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. “You've never said that before.” You said, looking around at him, mouth softly agape.

“No?” Geralt rasped, cocking a brow over his shoulder at you.

“Not once, in all these years.” You assured him, your hand gently massaging the scarred muscle of his neck.

He turned to you, causing the cooling water to slosh over the edge. “Then, I have a great deal of making up to do.” He cooed, reaching out to cup your face in his rough palm. “Because I do. I love you. Out of everyone, besides perhaps Jaskier and Vesemir, you know me better than anyone, and no one has ever taken better care of me than you have.” He told you, his face betraying the emotions a Witcher truly had, but guarded for their most treasured person, and not those of an abandoned child, rather those of a man in love.

“I love you too, Geralt.” You assured him, turning your head to kiss his hand. “And I will always care for you, me bleidd.” You whispered, picking up the cup to continue washing his hair.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt #witcher #A Witcher's Soul #A Witcher's Soul *fic*#hurt/comfort #Geralt of Rivia x You #Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia Fluff #Angst #Fluff #Visenna #Geralt's Ma #Character Death #major character death

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sh1-n0bu · 1 year

Note

Hello! Hope you are having a good day/evening.

I saw that your requests are open so i wanted to see if i could request, a headcanon(or one shot what ever you think would be better for the idea) + angst for scara, childe and diluc [add any character you have ideas pls :) ].

I was thinking of how would they react if reader just disapeard for a period of time, and they maybe though reader was dead. Until they came back (or they saw them somewhere like in other city after long time). [idk why reader decapered-] . I wanted to know if they would let reader in or ignore them for the rest of times.

(im sorry for making this so long- if you dont understand the idea or dont want to make it i complitly understand.)

✿ 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ✿

characters: scaramouche, childe and diluc x nb!reader

warnings: angst (me likey), reverse comfort, verbal fighting, takes place after scaramouche’s defeat, mentions of blood and injury (not too graphic), reader disappears for some time but dw nothing bad happens

notes: it’s alright hun, i understand dw too much abt anything! also you can def tell who’s my favorite lmao

since his loss as the false god of sumeru, the irmunsul incident, his mentality was slowly getting better

slowly starting to heal from all his trauma, loss, betrayals and suffering in the hands of the second fatui harbinger

but that doesn’t mean some bad habits just won’t immediately disappear

you and wanderer’s relationship has been going well. silly little dates here and there, holding hands and he was even slowly starting to open up to you about his past as well!

however lately you’ve been going out meeting someone named “kaveh” a lot lately. not really having time to explain to your lover that kaveh was your work partner and that you two had a deadline coming soon of an expensive and famous museum

and that was all it took for wanderer to start doubting the relationship between you two

did you truly love him like all the time you said you do? was it a lie? who was this kaveh anyways? perhaps this was a bad idea. maybe he never should’ve took nahida’s suggestion and confessed to you. maybe it was all better if he were to just push you away like he always have with people before

after 2 weeks of hard work with barely no sleep, full meal or even being able to see your loving boyfriend again, the architecture of the museum was finally finished and you and your best friend can finally catch some well deserved break

stepping into your shared little cottage at 2 in the morning, you yawned walking into your shared bedroom with your lover, not entirely surprised to see him still wide awake, sitting on your bed seemingly mulling over something

hugging his smaller body and nuzzling into his neck, you sighed in content. finally happy to be able to spend some time with your darling

that was until he stood up suddenly harshly tearing of your hands that was wrapped around his middle

“darling? what’s wrong?”

“don’t you dare ask me what’s wrong when you KNOW what the answer is. what finally got tired of that kaveh guy you’ve been seeing? finally got tired of him so now you come crawling back to me?!”

“… honey i don’t understand what you mean. i think you got it all wrong”

“don’t you dare call me those names! i knew you were a liar and a manipulator. always going around wearing that sickeningly sweet smile as if nothing’s wrong! you’re no better than him. no in fact, you’re worse!”

the fight escalated from there. at first you tried to calm him down and explain to him about everything but you were just too tired, too exhausted, too lonely

soon enough wanderer and you were just shouting at each other. calling each other names, jabbing at traumas, stabbing old wounds

the breaking point for you was when he shouted one thing you wish you would never hear coming from someone so dear to you

“I WISH YOU NEVER EXISTED AT ALL!”

deafening silence

no one moved, no one spoke, just silently staring into each other’s faces until you grimaced

he immediately regretted it. but he won’t show it because his pride is always too much. always too high. always above everyone. always destroying any human contact he sought after

quietly shaking your head, you picked up your coat again before stepping out of the once shared home with your lover, shutting the door gently. you were never one to slam doors after all

he wanted to get out and chase after you. hold your hand, cling to you, begging for forgiveness

but his pride won’t allow it

a few days have passed and he has yet to run into you. you’ve been gone without a single trace of where you went to or who you’re with

it’s as if his words came true…

it has been a week already. no signs of you and wanderer is going to lose his mind

he went to nahida to ask for her help, he asked about you from the traveler and paimon, he even went around asking about the person named kaveh

another day, another failure in finding you

sobbing in his bed, clinging tightly to your pillow he only wished for one thing. he just wanted you back

snapping out of his misery when the front door knob jingled, he nearly tripped over his own legs when jumping out of bed

and there you were, standing on the front door of your shared home, wearing the exact same clothes, facial expressions as the day you left

the short male didn’t care about how he looked, how messy his home was or even much of his pride. throwing himself into your chest, clinging to you like a lifeline, sobbing out apologies after apologies

forgiveness is a hard thing. especially to prideful people like wanderer but he will soon learn to apologize if he keeps practicing make sure to disappear more to teach him a lesson reader-chin👍

it has been some time since the ginger menace has seen his lover. that’s because you have been away on a long time commission on dragonspine. something about multiple frostarm lawachurl going haywire. of course him being himself, immediately offered to go as well if it weren’t for you bonking him on the head with all his piled up harbinger paper work

he knows you’re strong - even though you lack a vision - and he has great faith and earnest trust in you! he truly does! however the gnawing of dark thoughts, worry filled mindless pacing and the creeping presence of nightmares just won’t let him go no matter how much the harbinger throws himself into his piles upon piles of work

it took one utterance of your name to slip past ekaterina’s mouth that snaps him back to life, away from the insecurities and terror looming over him

were you finally back? it took a whole 2 weeks! he can’t wait to see you, hold you in his arms, trail kisses on your scars, to just be in your presence again!

just the simple thought of your face is enough to have him kicking his feet, giggling with sheer and utter joy

but that giggles stopped abruptly when ekaterina showed him a piece of ripped cloth. your cloth. a ripped part of the coat you wear whenever you’re called to dragonspine…

with a bated breath and shaking hands, childe asked “… they’re not here, are they?”

when the fatui gave a hesitant nod, tartaglia bolted out of the northland bank, running straight towards the icy peak - which always stirred warmth within his heart, reminding him of his homeland - now filled with a painful, nerve wracking cold

when he had arrived at the place you mentioned before seeing off, there were blood stains everywhere on the snow

the sight always used to make his eyes widen with excitement but now, with an unshakable fear

“[name]? [name] are you here! honey-bun please answer me!”

digging through all the wreckage, running around all over the place, searching for you, yelling your name. he just needed one little sign. just one little sign, please

and his pleas were answered with a grunt. a pained groan

quickly dashing over to where the sound had come from, he found you under a small wreckage pile of carts and tattered cloths with a hastily wrapped bandage around your bleeding torso

“haha… is it a bad time to say hi, big boy?” shakily laughing and cocking your eyebrow, you shot him a teasing grin

if you weren’t injured he probably would’ve bonked you over the head nicely but for now a nice 24 hours of lecture and scolding sounded better to ajax

it all started when your beloved significant other kept coming back home way past midnight, bruised and bleeding and leaving the next morning before the sun could even crack through the darkness of the night

at first you were worried, then you soon got used to it but patience can only run for so long until it breaks

“WHY CAN’T YOU SEE THINGS FROM MY PERSPECTIVE FOR ONCE DILUC?! YOU ALWAYS COME BACK INJURED, SOMETIMES EVEN ON THE VERGE OF DEATH AND YET YOU STILL LEAVE IN THE MORNING WITHOUT EVEN LETTING YOUR OPEN WOUNDS CLOSE!”

“i’ve been doing this for years [name]. so stop being clingy and let it be! i’m strong enough to handle myself.”

meanwhile elzer and adelinde looked at each other in worry. furrowing rheir brows, biting their lips and anxiously messing with their hands

the manor has never been this loud, ever since the fight between their young master and his brother kaeya of course

the fight started with a simple curt sentences being thrown but now it was slowly losing it’s meanings, turning into a shouting contest. a fight to see who has more pride than the other

“STOP BEING SO DAMN OVERPROTECTIVE! I’M STRONG ENOUGH TO HANDLE MYSELF AND YOUR WORRYING IS NOT NEEDED!”

that was the final straw for you to leave the manor with a loud slam of the front door

diluc tried to chase after you, realizing his mistake, wanting to apologize sadly the whole shouting re-opened his wounds, causing the young master’s sleeping tunic to get dirtied with blood

since that nasty fight with your dear boyfriend, you’ve been staying at his brother’s place for the time being. kaeya was more than understanding. after all, he too was once cast out by his loved one from his home

it had already been 4 days since the uncrowned king of mondstadt had seen his beloved and things were not going smoothly. he keeps messing up the order’s at the bar, letting fatui or some enemies get out of sight only to be reminded of that with a new wound, spending sleepless hours just tightly clutching at your pillow in your once-shared bed

on the fifth night of your sudden disappearance, diluc has had enough. mentally broken and physically exhausted, he sobbed silently, holding onto your pillow tightly

the red head was too caught up in his mental breakdown, he didn’t even hear your voice calling out his name

jolting violently and swiftly turning back - ready to summon his claymore - only to fall silent once he realizes it’s your hand holding his shoulder, your voice calling him sweet, cheesy nicknames, you standing before him in the flesh

“… darling? is that you…?”

you hated how broken he sounded. how devastated yet relieved he looked. how his voice shook with so mich hesitation and fear

gently cradling his head to rest upon your heart, you shushed his cries and begs of forgiveness

cuddles? …that sounds nice

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grugruel · 7 months

Text

Lust for Vampyr

Pairings: Paul Hill x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A new handsome priest arrives at Crockett Island and youre desperate for his attention, but when he seems to be avoiding you, you do the only logical thing. Show up at his door

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: Blasphemy, age-gap (reader over 20), oral sex (f! receving), pinv sex, rough sex, praise kink, slight thigh kink? Little bit of edging and cock-warming, tasting of blood (vampire shenanigans), PRIEST KINK.

Id never really found any interest in attending mass, despite my parents insistent attempts to drag me along. I had been watching the old monsignor preach for years now until he left for his pilgrimage, leaving a blank spot for a new priest to take his place.

Paul Hill had he called himself, and it was like lightning struck. All of a sudden I had a new fevor for the faith and although I had moved out long ago, my parents were thrilled to say the least. Little did they know though, that a fire had stirred within me. I started with innocent glances, admiring him from a far, telling myself it was just because of his enthusiastic way of preaching. But then getting a thing for his tall stature, big hands and stark black hair. He had me cleching my thighs together as I sat next to my parents in the church pews.

He made me want to confess my every sin to him and eventually I did, when I grew desperate enough. Just for the chance to hear him breath in that quiet intimate way I had begun to crave.

We had met briefly, just to introduce ourselves, but thats it. I wanted to talk to him more though, learn more about him. So I started lingering after mass, telling my parents to go on ahead without me just so I could get a word with the new father. But he usually dissapered into thin air before I got the chance, seemingly avoiding me like the black death.

Which Is how I ended up in my current situation. It was after the usual mass, I had dressed extra nicely tonight. I was standing in the cold on the fathers poarch, knocking on the rectory door in my fancy dress, black tights and mary janes.

I felt out of place, I know I shouldnt be here for this reason, I know I shouldnt have dressed nice in an effort to seduce a man of the church. Shame crept up my cheeks, coloring them a bright red. But I heard shuffling behind the door, then footsteps coming toward me and immedietly regretted my decision.

What was I doing? This is so stupid, hes going to send me away, direct me back to my parents like a lost child. My thoughts came to a sudden halt when the door finally opened, and there he stood. Father Paul.

He was in his regular black shirt and white collar, wearing his tight jeans. His eyebrows rose when he saw me, 'Ah' he sighed, as if expecting me but surprised none the less.

'Father.' I greeted, smiling faintly, 'Youre a busy man, you always disappear after mass, its hard to find time to talk with you.' I told him, he smiled apologetically 'Unfortunately yes, Ive had some urgent business to atend to lately, its taken up all my past time.' He explained as his gaze trailed down my body, eyes lingering on my thighs, 'I- uhm. . .' he shook his head, completley lost in thought when a particularly chilly breeze blew by. He shuddered, apparently noticing the cold for the first time, which managed to break him out of his trance and making him pay attention to my own shivers. Noting the goosebumps lining my arms and collarbones. He met my gaze again, hestitating slightly before moving out of the way 'Its freezing, please do come in.' He said, smiling cheapishly. 'Thank you.' I whispered as I passed him, intentionally brushing against his arm and hoping that he would catch a whiff of my perfume.

He closed the door behind us and made his way to the kitchen, 'Tea?' He asked.

'Yes please.' I answered and he smiled to himself, pleased with my manners. He gestured to the armchair in the middle of the room, 'Please, sit.' He urged me, then put a kettle of water on. I nodded and sat down, crossing my legs.

We waited on our opposite ends of the room, an akward silence settling over us. Finally though, the wistle of the kettle rang through the rectory and he made us two cups and sat down on the sofa opposite me. He handed me my cup and our fingers brushed as I took it, our eyes met, lingering on eachother. But he cleared his throat and looked away, 'So what brings you here?' He questioned.

I rested the cup in my lap as I tried to come up with an appropriate answer. 'We havent peoperly met, I suppose. . I simply wished to get to know you a bit better.' I said shyly.

He smiled, 'Well ofcourse, thats reasonable enough. Did you have any specific questions in mind?' He asked, sipping his tea.

I blanked completley, what was my plan here? 'I- No, not really. Uhm.' I stumbled ahead blindley.

He chuckled, 'Youre never this nervous in confessional are you.'

My face lit up in shame, averting my faze from him 'Well father, I suppose it gets easier in the dark.' I said, sipping my tea nervously.

He chuckled, 'I suppouse it would yes.'

I nodded gravely, looking back at him and found that his eyes had drifted to my body. It took me by surpise, but pleased me grately, 'Father?' I asked, trying to get his attention.

'Mmhm?' He hummed distantly, not taking his eyes off of me. Perhaps I wasnt so far off in coming here after all, my tights and skirt seemed to be working. Gaining some confidence, I uncrossed my legs and his gaze followed them intently. God, all he needed to was look at me and I was his, completley and utterly. In a sudden surge of brazenness, I let the cup rest in my lap again, clutched in my hands. Then spread my legs wider and slid the cup between my thighs, still in my grip, so that the view of my panties was blocked by that alone.

His bresthing stuttered, a made a sound that was barely a gasp. He rubbed his hands over his face and combed them through his hair in an effort to collect himself. But it did not work, he felt himself being affect by you, in the same way he was everytime he saw you. Which Is why he had to run off, why he had to keep his distance from you.

He sank further into the sofa, liftning his lap to adjust his position and then sat back down. I practically drooled at the sight, a tingling sensation pulsing through my core. I had to close my eyes for a few seconds, making an effort to think straight, at least until the feeling had calmed down and I could talk freely again. I moved my gaze back onto him and our eyes met, communicating with eachother, exchaning desires we could never say aloud.

Both a bit distracted by eachother, I decided to take the bull by its horns, 'Listen, father. I-' I began, but he shut me down instantly.

'Dont-' he said, holding his hand out to stop me, 'I know. . . I know.'

My mouth fell open in shock and I scrambled for an excuse, but I could not find the words. Shame tainting my tounge. 'Ive tried to stay away, but youre persistent. And I told myself that you must be a trial from god, tempting me, testing my faith.' he said, sitting up straighter and looking into my eyes.

'A trial that I will undoubtedly fail.' he confessed. Relief surged through me, he did want me. I reached out to lay a hand on his knee, but he jumped up, walking backward until he hit the kitchen counter. He leaned against it and crossed his arms, ensuring that they could not reach for me. He was fighting his urges, his own body was betraying him. I stood up, walking around to sofa to meet him, but he shook his head 'No, NO!' he shouted, making flinch in response to his sudden outburst.

'Im sorry, but this- this cannot happen.' He gestured between us, 'Whatever this is.' he sighed desperately and I stopped in my tracks, because I knew he was right. But he was just meters away from me, he was in my vecinity. Free to do with me however he pleased, if he pleased.

I whined at the thought, beacuse it could never happen. I grabbed the back of the sofa and bent down to rest my forehead against it, in a desperate attempt to collect my thoughts. A quiet complain reverberated through my body, "Why did it have to be a priest?" I bashed myself, a whine escaping me as I shook my head slowly. I slid forward, resting my elbows on the sofa so that my hands were free to hide my face. If only I could turn invisible, just disappear. But I was too painfully aware of his looming prescence to escape the moment, he kept a safe distance, occupied with battling his own thoughts.

I burned hot, terribly hot, my face ablaze from the shame of my indecent thoughts and actions, in stark contrast to my body which was only lubricated by them. Every single nerve-ending was tingling in reaction of what I craved.

I was trying, but failing very badly to calm myself, when there was movement in my peripheral, it happened so quickly that I was sure I had imagined it. But it was too late either way, because he had appeared behind me. All I noticed was a small gush of air and then he was pushed up against me, hips to ass and I involuntairily froze.

A shuddering gasp came form behind me as he lrt go of his restrictipns and his hands made contact with my skin, one hand moved to hold my hip while the other explored the dip of my lower back, testing its limits. He rubbed a few slow cicles with his thumb onto my skin, seamingly mesmerized by the goosebumps that rose. He stopped, for only a moment and then flattened his hand against the small of my back. He pushed downward with his palm and as if he'd found a hidden button, my back arched, and my breathing faltered. It was as if god himself had touched me and I had to bite my cheek to stop from moaning.

A low intake of breath could be heard from behind me, as if astonished by what he could accomplish. And as he kept the hand on my lower back pushed against me, he strengthened his grip on my hip and pulled me closer to him. When completley flush, I felt him again. But this time, there was an evident hardness in his jeans and I moaned reflexively, I couldnt help myself. How could I be excpected to? The priest of Crockett Island himself was hard, for me. How I did not scream and beg for him to tear me apart right there is beyond me.

He hissed in response to the friction that the thin fabric of my dress created against the rough fabric of his tight jeans. I tried griding against him with what little movement his hold allowed me, which earned me a displeased grunt and smack on the ass in punishment. I had to cover my mouth as another moan threatened to escape me.

Visions of everything I've dreamed of him to do to me flashed through my mind, things I've only ever imagined while touching myself. My entire skin was on fire as I tried to collect myself, scarcly succeding. I could only manage a single word.

'Father?' whispering it quietly, I turned my head a sliver, as far as I dared. It was enough to make out his disheveld state, chest heaving from supressing his heavy breathing, his usually perfect hair fallen in stressed strands over his forehead, his shirtsleeves carelessly folded and rolled up, showing his forearms. Such simple things drove me absolutley feral, I had to restrain myself from shaking in anticipation of his next move, barely daring to move in fear of him retracting from me.

But he never moved and everything was quiet apart from his shuddering breaths, a result of him fighting his most carnal desires. I wanted to touch him, to caress his beautiful face, to feel his skin under my fingers, and although I loved the shallow feeling my impact had on him, I wanted it deeper. So despite my better judgement, I straigthened my arms and moved to stand up and turn to him. But he quickly stopped me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and thrust my body forward into the sofa, my hips colliding with the back of it as he shoved my face into the pillows, cushioning the force of it.

He hadnt wanted me to see him like that, as if I saw him it would all become real. His desires, his unholy thoughts, his betrayal of god. But I did not care, I had crossed that point a long time ago.

'Father, please.' I begged, voice muffled by the pillows. And there was a slow realisation in his movements as he loosened his grip on me and stepped back. Confusion crowded my already full mind, as he began rubbing the back of his head in distress, turmoil brewed inside of him.

'Im so sorry' he whispered. Oh. . . Poor father, he mustve thought I was begging him to stop. 'Please forgive me, I dont know what came over me. I would never want to hurt you, please know that.' he rambeled, meeting my eyes, begging for for my forgiveness.

I stood up, shaking my head in dissmissal as I made my way to the light switch, turning it off, darkness enveloping us. I searched for soothing words to reassure him, 'You could never hurt me father, im yours.' I said and made my way through the darkness to him, trying to locate him from memory, I reached out blindley in an effort to avoid colliding with something but he met me half way, seeing my struggle.

I did not question it as he laced his fingers with mine and led them to his chest, making my heart skip a beat. I slowly traced my hands upward until I felt his face, enjoying everything my working senses had to offer me. His scent and the feeling of his soft shirt and skin. I placed my hands on either side of his face, cradeling him 'Take me now, in the dark.' I said carefully and stod on my tiptoes.

I leaning into him and as he did not retreat, I kissed him once, tenderly. 'Nobody but us will know' I whispered against his lips, then moved to kiss his jaw, feeling him relax under my touch.

'We will repent in the morning' I assured him and then quated myself, '"It gets easier in the dark"' I found his hands, and moved them to my breasts 'Take me now.'

This time, father Paul did not hesitate. He squeezed my breasts as he met my lips forcefully, kissing and biting me like a starved man. One of his hans dove behind my back, while the other found purchase under my ass. He hoisted me up into his arms in one quick motion, I gasped, surpised by his strength.

He walked me to the armchair, setting me down in it and kneeling in fornt of me. He spread my legs with his strong hands, and laid them on each thigh, squeezing hard. His hands slid up my thighs until they met the hem of my dress. He met my eyes, asking for reassurance and I nodded enthusiatically, giving it to him. He continued moving his hands upward, the dress catching on his wrists and follows his movements. He leaned closer, kissing a trail along the inside of my thigh until he came to my core. He ripped my thights open and moved my pantied to the side, and as he already had me go-ahead, he dove right in. I gasped as he made contact with my core, his tounge thrusting inside of me. Tasting my very being, he moved one of his hands to my clit, attacking it feverishly as the other stayed squeezing the soft flesh of my thigh. He was feral, and I loved it. He hummed as he ate me out, absolutley loving every second of it. My moans became needy and high pitched as I grabbed his hair to shove closer, he did not protest. I came hard and fast, closing my eyes as white light blinded my vision, making me dizzy. As I opened my eyes again the room was spinning, and the father sat proud infront of me grinning. 'Youre doing so good, my girl.' He said and rose up to kiss me, I could only manage a smile. To lost in pleasure to do anything else.

He picked me up and walked me to the sofa, laying me down on top of it and puttin almost all of his weight on me. He rested his forearm close to my head, letting it support his weight and tangling his hand in my hair, grabbing it and gently pulling my head to the side. While the other hand traced down my shoulder and lowered the strap of my dress, to gain easier access to my breast, then kneading it greadily. His lips moved from my mouth and kissed their way down to my neck, sucking and licking at that tender spot above my collarbone. I moaned reflexively, which only spurred him on further. His hips were moving against mine, enthusiastically and rythmically with the rest of his body. Our closeness made his clothed erection rubb against my core perfectly. I moved my legs to stradle him, tightening the grip and bringing him even closer to me, then rutting my hips against him. The friction was delicious and that paired with the fathers delerious assault on my neck, his breath hot against my skin and his moans vibrating through me, had me close to coming undone right then and there.

My hands had found their way to his back, scratching and pulling at the fabric, but it wasnt enough. I moved my hands to unbutton his shirt, but struggled due to our position. I grew tired and greedy from not succeeding, so I removed his colar and tore his shirt open, yanking it down his shoulders, but did not manage to get it further. Displeased about ruining his shirt, he bit me, once, hard enough to draw blood. I gasped and he stopped, removing his hand from my breast and slid it to my neck, coating his fingers in my blood. Stunned silence had settled over us, apart form our unanimous labored breathing. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting my blood and it was like he became a whole other person. If lust had not driven him before, it did now. I found it strange, but was to mesmerized by the moment to question it. He stood up, resting one knee on the sofa between my legs and began unbuckling his belt. I bit my lip from anticipation, the sight driving me mad, he looked positively devine. 'Have you done this before?' He asked me, I nodded my head in response, 'Have you, father?' He did not answer, his eyes were just drinking me in.

'Touch yourself.' He ordered, and I wasted no time. I moved my hands down my body, lifting the skirt of my dress with one hand and shoving the other down my panties, sliding it inside me to wet it then circling my clit in slow deliberate motions.

'Oh. . . ' he shook his head, 'Good girl' he praised in a shallow whisper, he looked at me like I was no longer a test from god, but a gift. He moaned as I touched myself, surely I was a sight in itself, my breast out, the skirt shoved up over my thighs and hips and my chest heaving from breathing heavily as he was towering over me. His tussled hair and shirt pulled down beneath his shoulders, exposing his chest and collarbones, his veiny hands working his belt. I closed my eyes as I felt myself coming close, and the sound of him drove me further. The belt buckle clanging, a zipper opening and the rustling fabric of clothes falling to the floor was erotic in a way I never could have suspected. White dots were specking the darkness of my eyelids, and a spring was tightening deep in my stomache. My breathing became frantic as I envisioned the father inside of me. I was a second away, when he snatched my hand out of my panties and I whined in frustration, the specks darkened and I felt moving around me.

I opened my eyes and he was below me, stark naked, holding my hand to his face and licking my slickness from my fingers much like he had done with my blood. 'Beautiful angel, you taste divine.' He sighed.

I moved the hand he was holding the caress his face 'Please father, I cannot wait any longer'. And he odded, sliding his hands under me and lifting my hips to pull my dress upward, once he'd done that I sat up to help him pull the dress over my head. He then lowered himself on top of me, pushing me back into the sofa and resuming his previous position.

'Im yours, only yours father.' I whispered and he kissed me tenderly as his hand traced down my body, feeling every curve on the waw down and pulled my panties to the side. He lined himself up with my entrance, teasing my opening by sliding himself through my folds. My breath caught, 'Please, please, please.' I whined desperstley, begging seemed to be the only thing I was capable of around him.

He suddenly slid inside and we gasped in unisome, our eyes met and we stayed like that for a while. No one moved, no one talked, we just admired eachother silently while he let me adjust to his size. He raised his eyebrows, as if asking for consent and I nodded eagerly, pecking him on the lips. He slid out of me completley, confusing me terribly and I desperatly clung my arms around his shoulders, burrying my hands in his hair to make him stay. But he only chuckled in response and kissed my arm lovingly, then slammed back into me. Setting a brutal pace, almost knocking the air out of my lungs.

I could not tell whos moans belonged to who, but amidst the frenzy he gave me a few short kisses on the lips in reassurance, then nuzzled his nose against my cheek and moved his forehead to the crook of my neck, whispering against my skin 'Youre doing so good, sweet girl.' His sweet words were a stark contrast to his hard, fast thrusts.

A few hours ago I was nervously getting ready for mass, dressing nicely in hope of the new priests approval, and now hes ballsdeep inside me.

He moved his hand to my clit, rubbing it in fast circles. I covered my mouth with one hand as a scream threatened to escape me, while the other tore into his back, leaving long red scratch marks and he hissed into my neck. Enjoying every part of the pain and pleasure mixing with eachother.

He straigthened his arm to sit back anf change position, but never relenting his pace. He raised my hips onto his thighs, placing one hand on my waist in a grip that will be leaving bruises on my skin, and pushing the other hand down on my abdomen while still circling my clit with his thumb. His thrusts hit that spot inside me that made my toes curl and it all became quite overwhelming, about to push me over the edge.

'Im- Im close' I managed inbetween breaths and he hummed, nodding as his own movements became irregular. I grabbed onto the cushions for dear life as I was tipping over the edge, electricity sparked between us, and all of a sudden I felt thunder tearing through me and he collappsed on top of me. His thrusts slowed down, allowing me to ride through my high.

'Good girl' he sighed and kissed my forehead as his ruts came to a stop and pride surged thorugh me.nHe stayed inside me, laying comfortably with me as oour breaths calmed together. I could feel his seamen sippering out of me, and I loved it. Because it was him.

'Will you stay with me tonight?' He asked.

'If you'll have me.' I answered, smiling as he kissed my lips.

#paul hill #father paul hill #father paul #hamish linklater #midnight mass #father paul smut #paul hill smut #john pruitt #monsignor pruitt #john pruitt smut #priest kink #paul hill x reader #father paul x reader

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi bee, how are you? hope you're having a great week ❤

I was thinking about a Joel fic, they're in Jackson and reader lives in the house next to Joel's, they become friends and are feelings in between but they're to stubborn to confess.

Ellie is kinda dude just tell her and finally he does it with some dinner in his house or something like that.

Thank you, your fics are amazing 🥰

AN | I love this so much! Joel being soft for his girl has me so <3

Combined with this prompt | Can I please request something with Joel where he’s like cold in front of others but he’s so soft with his girl. And Ellie absolutely teases him for it.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sexual Situations

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

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"You're soft, you know," Joel stiffened at the sound of Ellie's comment. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, but decided not to indulge her. Not yet anyway, "for her."

"Ellie," his voice was careful, collected. So much for being any sort of subtle.

"I'm just saying," she holds up her hands innocently, playing as best as she could into her innocent child role, "and everybody knows."

“Nobody knows anything,” he insisted with a gentle, playful little tap to the side of her cheek, “y’all are always so nosey with everyone else’s business, makes me wonder what any of you ever get done.”

“Hey, I’m a kid, I’m not supposed to do anything,” she stuck her tongue but Joel’s hands settled on his hips as he gave her that look, “fine, I do some things.”

“Some things,” he twanged back at her, “like your chores, right? Which you should be doing right now, not harassing me, so get going.”

“You’re so stubborn,” she groaned, throwing her arms up in the arm, “and blind! Dude, just tell her!”

“Ain’t nothing to tell!” he called after her as she threw up her middle finger. If she would have looked back she would have seen the wicked, rosy blush that was covering his cheeks. His face felt warm enough to fry an egg on.

He wondered if people were really that perceptive or if just she was. He hated the idea that he was being so obvious. It wasn’t that he wasn’t into you, oh no. Joel Miller was into you; the whole picturing a future together, picturing you in his bed when he was alone at night, growing old(er) with you, type of into you.

He just had no clue if you felt the same. Even remotely so. And he wasn’t about to make a fuckin’ fool out of myself by making a move and potentially being wrong. The thing he hated most of all was the idea of a life without you. He’d rather keep you as a friend than lose you altogether.

Joel huffed at him, feeling pathetic with how lovesick he sounded. He wasn’t some sort of teenage boy, he was a grown ass man.

“Hey cowboy,” okay. He was a pathetic lovesick grown ass man, “whatcha up to?”

“Nothing,” fucking hell. Joel’s voice pitched up about three octaves as he glanced over at you, standing in the backyard like a vision. He never knew he loved sundresses so much; not until the weather grew warm and you started wearing them. You and those pretty little dresses were going to be the death of him, “just working on a few things around the house.”

“Hmm,” you mused as you walked over, ghosting your fingers along the flowers that had started growing, “need a hand? I’m done with the things I needed to do today. The rest are a problem for future me.”

“I like your thinking,” he agreed, setting down the hammer he’d absentmindedly picked up to look like he was doing something, “let’s call it a day.”

“Want to head to the river?” Your suggestion was followed by a sugary sweet smile that made him want to take you in his arms and kiss you, “we can bring some lunch and have a little picnic.”

He wanted to have a little more than lunch. But that was a conversation for a different day.

“Sure,” he agreed, a vain attempt at nonchalance, but if you noticed, you didn’t give it away, “let me just get out of these dirty clothes first.”

“Need a hand with that?” you teased, feeling emboldened for whatever reason. The surprised look on his face as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water was worth it, “I’m just teasing, Joel. No need to look so panicked. You change and I’ll get some lunch together. Do you think Ellie would like to come?”

“No!” he insisted quickly before realizing his gaff. You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, “she’s busy with her chores this afternoon. Kid’s gotta earn her keep, you know?”

“Mhmm,” you reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “well, just meet me at mine when you’re done. Door will be unlocked as always.”

Joel watched wordlessly as you flounced away, skirt swishing and hips swaying. He was pretty sure he was almost drooling, but caught himself before anyone around seemed to notice. You were trouble; you were absolutely going to cause him to lose it.

And god, he was so here for it.

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You looked nervously around the kitchen, trying to figure out what you could throw together for a little picnic. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead - you hadn’t really expected him to say yes. Not that Joel had ever said no to you but still…one never knew. Maybe the dress was helping; you’d worn it purposely after all. Men practically became putty when they saw a woman in a sundress.

“Fuck,” you sighed to yourself, already mentally prepping the food as you grabbed the picnic basket out of the cupboard. You sang to yourself, “don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck this upppppp.”

You kept singing that mantra to yourself as you bounced around the kitchen and managed to whip up a lunch that wasn’t too shabby at all. By the time Joel made his way over to yours, you were flushed and breathless. His handsome face and lovely smile were almost too much for you. You felt like a victorian maiden in the presence of a man alone for the time.

Yikes. You really needed to get laid. Preferably by Joel, but that was a worry for another day.

“What’s got you smilin’ like that?” you could have sworn there was a knowing little smile on his face.

“Nothing,”you. You weren’t about to just freely admit that yet, “just excited to get to spend some time in the sunshine with my best guy.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take his reaction, be it good or bad.

“Come on,” he reached for the basket before you could even think about reaching for it, “let’s get going then, sweetheart.”

You warmed up under his saccharine gaze but let him take the basket nonetheless and followed after him.

As the two of you walked towards the lake, on the outskirts of the ever expanding Jackson, a few people here and there stopped to say hello and, you know, do the whole chit-chat thing. You loved talking to people and totally soaked it up…meanwhile Joel was a totally different story. He didn’t dislike people, not unless they gave him a reason to, but he wasn’t a big talker or mingler.

You wouldn’t say he was cold to others (Ellie totally would), but he was absolutely soft for you. Even if you didn’t know it, you had that man wrapped around your finger.

While he vehemently tried to avoid being stopped by anyone else, you looped your arm through his…and almost killed him in the process. You smelled sweet, not cloying so, but just right and your skin was dangerously soft. He should have gotten an award or something for how much self control he managed to exercise around you.

Meanwhile, you were oblivious to the internal struggle he was currently experiencing, instead talking his ear off about something Gemma had said to Ben but then did with Kerrie. He wasn’t sure, he was only half listening, way too distracted by you.

When you got to the lake, you slipped your hand into the basket and pulled out the soft blanket that you’d had enough forethrough to bring. You tossed it under the shade from one of the trees so neither of you would get too hot from the direct sunlight. You sat down and patted the space next to you, watching as he set the basket down, his brows knitted together in what appeared to be deep thought.

It wasn’t all that deep; he was trying not to stare at your breasts or how good they looked in that dress, or how your legs looked particularly enticing. If you were to sum it all up, he was basically trying not to be a pubescent boy and pop a boner at the sight of you.

Grown man he repeated to himself, you are a grown man.

“I don’t bite,” was it on purpose? Maybe, maybe not. But you liked the look of pure panic that his face morphed into, “unless you want me to.”

“Sweetheart-”

“C’mon,” you cut him off, enjoying this a little too much, “pull out some sandwiches because I’m starving!”

So was he. Just not for food. Well - you and food if he was being honest.

When he froze, you reached over him and pulled out the freshly cut fruit and sandwiches for each of you, handing it to him with an air of innocence. He gratefully accepted your offering, stuffing his face full before he could make too much of a fool of himself.

And from there, as always, the two of you feel into easy conversation, about life, this, that, and everything in between. You liked that about him - things were always so easy, so right with Joel. In the time since he and Ellie had arrived in Jackson the winter before, Joel Miller had easily become your best friend…and all around favorite person.

You wanted to tell him, really, but you were terrified of messing things up and losing him. It wasn’t worth the risk. Not yet anyway…and maybe never but yeah. Joel was it for you in so many ways.

"Berries," his smile lit up his entire face, effectively pulling you out of your little fantasy. You nodded as you watched him grab a ripe strawberry and pop into his mouth, "my favorites!"

"I know," ugh. How was this man adorable and dorky on top of everything else? It was unfair, "you told me."

"When? Like once in passing," he raised his eyebrows as you tried to play it off, "you remembered?"

"I remember a lot of things," you whispered, "especially about the people that mean most to me."

Joel was stunned, unable to think of the words to properly convey what he was feeling. He opted for a nod as he leaned against the tree, casting him in a golden, sunny light.

You grabbed a few berries from the bowl and gave him a wink before lying down on the back, staring at the fluffy white clouds.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate the lunch you had packed, growing full and warm.

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After a while, you came up with a brilliant plan. You sat up and looked around to make sure no one was nearby before standing back up.

"Swim with me," you said suddenly as you grinned at Joel. He remained silent as you started to push up your dress, brown eyes wide and his throat feeling thick. You shucked the dress off and tossed it by him, "Joel?"

"O-okay," he was trying not to lose his control as you stood there in front of him, only a bra and panties. You were so carefree, uninhibited, and wild that it was infectious. You tied up your hair before walking over to the water and motioned for him to hurry up, "are you sure you want to-"

You jumped into the water before he could say anything else, remaining below the water for a few moments to let your body adjust the temperature difference. When your lungs started to burn, you floated back up and broke through the surface. Joel was standing at the edge of the lake, hands on his lips as he watched, a lazy little smile on his face.

“Water’s perfect,” you drew back your hand and splashed them gently, “come on in!”

You could see his hesitation and shook your head. You swam to the edge and held out your hand to him. He was weighing something in his mind, mulling over his decision before he eventually tugged off his boots and pants, kicked them to the side. It was a moment until he gathered up the courage to pull off his shirt - silly, he would say but you would argue otherwise - but he tossed into the pile of your clothing.

“Handsome,” you cooed softly as his shoulders relaxed. And he was, you weren’t just trying to make him feel better. You could see the scars and marks littering his body along with the freckles you already planned on connected with your lips, and the muscle under the softness. You loved him - all of him, “alright?”

“Alright,” he agreed before sitting down and dangling his legs in and eventually slipping all the way into the water. You could tell he was up to something but your musing was quickly put to an end when you felt his hands on your hips, causing you to shriek in surprise. You heard him laughing as you pouted at him, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“You are a menace,” you turned around so you were facing him, settling your hands on his shoulders, “you, Joel Miller, are trouble.”

“Yeah?” he was practically vibrating under your touch as you tried to give him a somewhat serious expression. It fell flat, more of a sweet, innocent look, which made his heart even softer than he thought possible, “what about you then? What does that make you?”

“Sweet and innocent,” you grinned softly, “I’m a good girl.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Were you trying to kill him?

“Oh sweetheart,” he tried to keep it from sounding too much like a groan, “you are something else.”

You hummed in content as you closed your eyes and tilted your head towards the sun. You couldn’t have imagined a better day - but there was still one more thing you wanted to know that could make the day even better than anything else, “So, I was talking to Ellie…and she told me something interesting.”

“Ellie says a lot of things.” oh no. His heart was racing so quickly that he was afraid that he was going to pass out, “mostly nonsense.”

“I’m not so sure on that one,” you snorted in amusement, “do you wanna know what she told me?”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me regardless of what I say…”

“Of course,” you reached over and stroked his cheek, watching as a boyish grin grew on his face, “she told me that you like me. You know, like me like me.”

“And she said it just like that?” he asked, trying to his cool as you tried to read his expression.

“She did actually,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “are you gonna tell me if its true or not? Or are ya gonna leave me guessing?”

“Do you really need me to tell you or do you already know the answer?” he was deflecting, trying to make sure he hadn’t read anything wrong.

“I’m pretty sure that you’re hopelessly and madly in love with me,” you were teasing - but only just. You both knew that much, “but a little bit of reassurance doesn’t hurt either.”

“I am,” he confirmed after a few moments of tranquil quietness passed between the two of you. Inside you were practically screaming and bursting with joy. When you didn’t didn’t say anything, he grew worried, “is that…are you…okay? You’re makin’ me nervous sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gave him the most dazzling smile. You paused for a moment before quietly exhaling, “oh! I’m in love with you too. If that wasn’t obvious….I thought it was, but I figured you’d want to hear it too.”

“I did,” he relaxed; every fiber of his being was humming with positive energy. Holy shit. You loved him. You were in love with him, “were you ever going to say anything?”

“Eventually,” you confessed, “but I kind of liked watching you squirm too. You look real cute when you blush, you know.”

“I do not,” he huffed indignantly, “I do not blush.”

“Whatever you say, love,” oh. He liked that sound of that, “are you going to kiss me or?”

“Do you want me to?” his eyes widened, “you want me to kiss you?”

“Very much so,” you agreed, “I would love it if you kissed me…finally.”

“Finally?” he asked, wondering if you’d wanted this for as long and as much as he had. The look on your face said it all.

“Finally.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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taystrash · 8 months

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I Don't Want It, I Need It

Description: This started off as HCS for submissive men who loved to be broken and turned into a full fic. I apologize if it seems to be written weird, it's a full fic but HC 'coded'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.017k

Content Warnings: Nicknames used: miss, pretty boy, pretty puppy, nasty slut (like twice), cum eating, oral sex (male receiving), cowgirl, terrible attempt at aftercare. Afab reader.

Submissive men who need to be fucked dumb. They crave it, in their mind, body, and cocks. They need to be allowed to be a useless horny mess, or they’ll explode. They’re so pent up, sexually, and emotionally, they usually suck at properly communicating with you, yet you always know what they need.

When they’re having a particularly bad day, you’re calling them before they even have a chance to process the events of said day. Each limb is heavier than the next, a chore and a half to even move his body forward. His head is pounding, every light, no matter how big or small feels blinding. His fingers grip the steering wheel as he weaves through the cars on the back streets, passing when not permitted and running a few red lights. Safely, of course. He isn’t paying attention to anything that isn’t you. Your words echo in his head, offering to help relieve his stress from the day. Him being him, challenges the offer, just to be the brat he is. It doesn’t shock or surprise you, a soft giggle fills the silence afterward. You tell him he doesn’t have to come, you’d be happy to just talk to him about his day, “Just thought I could help.” Yeah, as if he’d turn that down. He’s at your house before he can think about going home to shower or at least, change. His confidence seems to dwindle the closer he gets to you. His hands seem to shake more and his cheeks have been a scarlet red since he hung up the phone. These actions confuse him to no end, it wasn’t as if he were nervous, he could take you if he needed to. Yet, he could feel his heart thumping against his rib cage, with each step he took to your door. He only has to knock once before it’s flung open. You’re in nothing but a thin, silk robe, from what he can see, the fabric is tied in the middle. He has to stop the moan that bubbles in the back of his throat at the sight of you, quickly making his way past you and into your apartment. He watches as you close and lock the door, eyes trailing your body without an ounce of shame. His fingers twitch, aching to tear the fabric from your body and reveal all of you to his eyes, it’d help him after all. “I’ve missed you.” He finally admits when you turn to face him. He has no time to be embarrassed or ashamed by the confession, not when you’re looking at him like you’re ready to devour him. “Really fucking missed you.”

It’s nights like this he doesn’t want to think much. He doesn’t want to be this all-powerful, almighty, protector of his organization, he just wants to be your good boy. He just wants to be used until he can’t think straight. He needs it. You don’t even ask him to remove his clothes, instructing him to sit on the edge of the bed and doing so for him. He feels like a child in this sense, lifting his arms when you pull off his shirt, and wiggling his hips to help you get rid of his jeans and underwear. The thought is quickly dismissed when he feels your lips against his skin. He had felt hot the moment he entered your place, yet your kisses felt hotter. Each kiss lingered a second longer than the last, some ending with a nip, others with a soft suctioning of his skin. He was aware of the marks blossoming across his skin, it made his cock twitch. He loved when you marked him up like this, along his chest, down his belly, on the insides of his thighs. You don’t stop or look disgusted when his hips jut upward at the feeling of your tongue against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Part of him wants you to, wants you to shame him for being such a nasty, needy slut, but the both of you know you love the fact. Your hands travel up his legs, massaging the tension out of his calves, up behind his knees to over his quivering thighs. Your nails dig into the flesh until all that’s left of your actions are small red crescent-shaped marks. The calculated switch up behind your gentle touching and your harshness throws him for a whirl, he’s losing himself earlier than normal. Today had been such a stressful, on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of day, so he deserved this.

“Such a pretty cock.” Your words are barely above a whisper, fingers gingerly wrapping around his throbbing shaft. You give him a few simple strokes, demanding his attention. He can’t, his eyes have already found a home in the back of his skull. “Baby, look at me.” It takes everything in him to do so, it’s so worth it, his eyes rolling forward to watch you take him into your mouth. The tip of your tongue flicks along the underside of his swollen cock head, tracing the shape. The moan released as his taste invades your senses has him twitching in your hand. His knuckles whiten as his grip tightens on the sheets, hips bucking to push him entirely down your throat. There’s a second of gagging, throat constricting around him to adjust, it’s all too much. You aren’t even upset at the action, aren’t even pulling back to scold him for nearly choking you. Instead, you hum around him, tongue flicking along the underside of his cock, tip grazing his balls. Pulling off you kiss his tip, then give another before you’re about near making out with it, sucking his pre like a sweet treat. You’re just too much.

“I’m close.” He hides his face in his shoulder at the admission, embarrassed by the fact. He’s squirming beneath you, one hand shooting up to grip your wrist. He apologizes as he holds your hand in place, hips wildly bucking his cock into your fist. “Gonna cum, fuck, y-yeah, feels so fu-fucking good, so go-ood, f-fuck, gonna cum, fuck,” by this point, his eyes would’ve rolled back to their previous location, yet they remained on yours. His face twisted in pleasure and looked almost painful. He knew looked desperate, felt so needy, fucking your hand like it was your pussy. “Sorry I’m such a slut, such a-hah-fuck-such a-oh my god-“ he can’t even finish his sentence, words dying in the tip of his tongue as his stomach tightens. He cock twitches against your palm once, twice, before he cums. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” His hips have stopped, shaky hand moving yours along his cock, milking himself dry. “Thank you. Thank you.” His chest heaves, eyes wildly searching the scene. He made a mess, of himself and of you, evidence splattered across his chest, some on his chin, the majority on your cheek. He must’ve missed the way you repositioned yourself to try to catch as much as you could, ultimately missing the majority because his hips were moving without a pattern.

“My pretty boy really was pent up.” Fingers scoop his cum off your cheek, pushing it past your lips. You make a show of flicking your tongue between the two digits, moaning softly at the taste. He’s trying his best to compose himself, body still trembling from his previous orgasm. His cock lays against his thigh, twitching as it softens, his eyes widen at the sight, and he feels himself getting hard again. “Had so much for me tonight, want a taste?” Shaky eyes watch as you clean his cum from his belly, moving your hand slowly toward his lips. He goes to part them but something tells him to wait, eyes remaining on your fingers until they’re a hair away from his lips. The tips of your fingers trace the outline of his lips, carefully, trying to avoid making more of a mess. Failing to do so, results in his tongue darting out, first to catch what was falling from your fingers, second to circle the two digits before taking them into his mouth. His eyes closed at the taste of himself on his tongue, fully hard again at the lewdness of the situation. You say a silent prayer at the sight of his eyes closed, knowing the look on your face was equally as lewd. Tongue poking the corner on your lips, brows pinched, eyes swallowing him whole. “Good boy. Good fucking boy.” You pull your fingers from his mouth with a pop, wiping the rest of his mess from his chin. You go to put them into your mouth but his mouth catches your fingers again, sucking them past his lips with a shameless moan. “You like the way you taste? Yeah? You really are a nasty slut.”

“Only for you,” his hands leave the bed to grip your hips, pulling you to straddle his waist. “You make me feel like a dog in heat, humping aimlessly to get off, but I like it. I need it.” He’s sat up on his elbows, one hand leaving your hips to push you closer to him, stretching the thin robe to show your chest. His lips leave kisses along the exposed skin, tongue flicking out to trace along your collarbones. “I need you,” he can’t meet your eyes after this confession, hiding his face in the crook of your neck to avoid having to face you.

“You need me?” You let him hide for now, one hand untying your robe, the other pushing through his hair at the nape of his neck. The robe falls from your body and reveals you haven’t been wearing anything underneath. “My pretty boy needs me?” There’s no teasing, no malice in your tone, only sincerity. “What if I told you,” your hand cradles the back of his head and you use your weight to push him to lay back against the bed. Your other hand reaches back to wrap around his sticky shaft, giving it a few strokes before running it along the length of your slit. “Come on, look at me. Let me see my pretty boy.” your previous thought is interrupted by the command. He’s quick to follow, ignoring the burning sensation that flames across his skin, burning up his chest to his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “What if I told you,” you continue your earlier thought, positioning him at your entrance. “I need you too.” His eyes widen at the confession and he wants to keep them on you, but the combination of your words and your walls finally sucking him in, has them finding refuge in the back of his skull. “I think I may need you more than you need me.” The words are whispered against his lips, hips rolling to emphasize your point.

“Y-you need me? M-me?” His hands blindly grab at your body, grabbing handfuls of your ass, pulling you closer, pushing himself deeper. “Miss needs me.” His attempts to meet your thrusts are futile, hips being pushed flush against the bed when you sit fully on him. “F-fuck, so good, feels s-so-o good.” You sit up fully, hands bracing your weight on his chest, moving from sitting on your calves to sitting up fully on your knees. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” he doesn’t have a chance to finish his complaint before you’re sinking back onto his lap. The pause you take is for the benefit of the both of you, cause he’s closer than he cares to admit especially when you’re clamping down around him like that. “Y-yes.” It’s the most broken, desperate, and beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. It heats your belly, makes your pussy throb and leak, proof soaking his shaft.

“My pretty boy makes the prettiest sounds.” Your hips begin to move. You’re soaked, each movement producing the nastiest-sounding click. Your pussy stretches around his cock and you have to remind yourself that he needs you to stay levelheaded. “Gonna make miss lose control.” Your breathing is picking up, becoming uneven as your movements grow sloppier. You wanted to sit back on your calves but knew he needed you to go full throttle. He came here because he needed to be dwindled down to the horny useless mess he loved, you loved. “Such a good boy-hah-f-fuck-don’t-don’t do that-“ he isn’t sure what he’s doing until he feels his hips leaving the bed to meet your ass. His thrusts are softer compared to yours but they push him deeper, swollen cock head pressing against your most sensitive spots. “Hmm, my pretty puppy feels so good.” Your hips grind down into his, giving him space to still thrust up into you, making a mess on his cock, splashing against his pelvis. “I can feel you twitch against my walls baby, you close? You want to cum? Cum deep inside miss?” Tonight’s filled with firsts, the question throwing him for a loop, brain unable to process the words before he’s cumming.

“W-wait! No, no, no.” The part of him unable to process your question is filled with panic, hands gripping the fat at your hips to go to pull you off. “I came i-inside?” The other part is over the moon, demanding him to stop questioning you, ecstatic that he’s finally cum inside of you. His cock twitches uncontrollably against your gummy walls, mouth lolling open as he dissolves into a puddle of whimpers. His hands keep their position, using it to push you further down onto him, desperately trying to bury himself as deep as possible. Your walls clamp down around him, milking him, draining him. “So good miss, so good,” his voice is barely above a whisper, nearly missed under your moans. His body shakes, thighs trembling as you continue to use him like a toy. His cock is so sensitive, he can feel the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Hurts, it hurts,” he isn’t sure that’s the word to describe the feeling, maybe he was just overwhelmed because the last thing he wanted you to do was stop.

“I’m so close baby, so close,” one hand drops between your thighs, fingers pressing against your clit. Your movements are choppy and quick, just like your hips, all telltale signs that you were close. “You can-hah-mmh-f-fuck, you c-can do it for miss. Right? Y-you can do it. Right? My pretty puppy can take it. Right?” Your other hand pulls one of his away from your hips, bringing it beside his head to interlock your fingers. “I’m gonna cum-ah-I’m so close, gonna cum,” you’re sure you don’t make sense at this point, not too worried about it when he was splitting you open over his cock. Not when he whined with every movement, hips subtly lifting to meet yours, attempting to aid you to your end.

“Cum for me miss, please, cum around my cock. Cum for your pretty puppy. Please cum for me miss, I need it, I need to feel you cum around my cock.” His voice is shaky, breath hitching every time you clamp down around him. “Just like that miss, just like that,” his hand leaves your hip to press against your back, pushing your chest flat against his. His head leaves your back to find the back of your head, pushing you forward so your foreheads are pressed against each other’s. “Feels so good cumming around my cock, so fucking good,” he’s doing well at keeping his voice stable, despite the fact he was nearing his third orgasm of the night. Not like he could help it with the way you were squeezing him, not when he was so sensitive. Not when you were so wet, making a mess with even the smallest jerk of your hips. Not when he watched as you actively tried to fight the way your eyes rolled back as you fucked yourself through your orgasm. “I’m close again miss.” He doesn’t even have to ask, your hips rolling into his as an answer he didn’t know he was looking for.

“Cum for me pretty puppy. Fill miss up again.” Your hands frame the sides of his face, hips slowly moving against his as you feel him finish once again. You have to fight every urge to push him back down and ride him with your feet on the bed at the feeling of his cum leaking back out. He’s too much for you sometimes, crying as he cums, thanking and cursing you all in one breath. “You did so good.” Your smile returns and your voice is cheerful once again, hands gripping his cheeks to plant kisses over his face. “How do you feel?" You're slow to move from his lap, making your way to the mini-fridge kept in the corner of your room. You make your way back holding a water bottle, still waiting for his response. You take a quick peek, just to make sure he hasn't passed out, and notice his eyes have been following your every move. "You watching me like some kind of stalker?" You pull him to sit up, bunching a few pillows behind him for support, and hand him the water.

"I feel fine." He's still trying to catch his breath, hands shaking as he undoes the cap and brings the water to his lips. You only grin in response, hitching a brow as he spills a bit of the water down his chin. Your fingers are quicker, wiping the mess from his chin, to wipe them on your thigh. Part of him feels disappointed that you hadn't placed them in your mouth, the picture of you sucking his cum off your fingers clear in his mind. It wasn't like you didn't usually swallow, you almost always did, it was just something different, more intimate about tonight. The way you watched him to make sure he was watching you instead of allowing him to get lost in his pleasure, like usual. Not that he was complaining, he's come to realize he misses a lot when his eyes are rolled back. The main one being the way you watch him throughout the whole ordeal, your eyes never leave his face, it's like you need to watch him crumble beneath you. "Actually, I feel a lot better. Thanks." The truth wouldn't hurt.

"Good. Now finish your water and meet me in the shower."

Chuuya, Poe, Ranpo, AKUTAGAWA, Giyuu, Armin, Choso

AN: It has been three years since I've sat and wrote a story in its entirety, I wanted to quit, start over, scrap the whole idea in general but I couldn't :( we need more submissive men fics. ALSO, could anyone help me make my posts all cute? Like with the banners that have the content warning? or where to find the manga caps? Please.

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hihelloheyhowdy · 1 year

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Malleus realizing feelings + confession.

I've seen so many different headcanons of how he would confess but here is my personal take

---------------------

Malleus is been going on nightly walks with you, and opened up about his loneliness. Getting really close to you (some thing Sebak was extremely against but what he doesn't know won't hurt him).

So imagine his confusion when his heart starts beating especially quickly when you get to close.

Is this what child of men call 'heart attacks'? is he endangered? Should he be worried? so he says bye and just poofs out of there

"Sorry child of man I must go, I'm not feeling well."

"Oh well is there anything i can he-" and he's gone.

Lilia is so confused when he hears Malleus call him in a tone mixed with confusion, panic, and concern, wasn't he on the walk with the magic-less perfect he seems to have taken a liking too?

Malleus is pale complexion makes the pink-y/red hue on his face far too noticeable.

Ah, he can already connect the dots here.

"I was fine really but they stubbled closer to me and suddenly my heart is going double? triple? it's pace. Of course i'm not sure what sickness they could've given me, but surely this is not normal."

Lilia is trying so hard not to laugh, this is a serious moment. The crown prince/future king, and more importantly- one of the children he's worked hard to raise has found a love interest. So he's going to try his best to help- after all he's been around long enough to know that romantic feelings and relationships should be handled with care.

"Malleus, have you considered you may have romantic feelings for the perfect?"

Malleus literally freezes. Just stops completely.

What?

Romantic???

feelings?????

For who??????

Malleus.ext has stopped processing, refresh and try again later.

A million thoughts all at once

When? Where? How? Why? Is he allowed it? Can a fae even gain romantic feelings? Will they go away? Will they grow stronger? Can you notice? Have you known and not said anything? Do you like Malleus? See him as anything more than a friend? Do you even consider him a friend? Do you just tolerate him? Do you secretly share the same view point as everyone else about him and have been hiding?

The last thought left a bad taste on in his mouth. The idea of you even mildly disliking him made him want hide away. Is that normal for when a person has romantic feelings?

Lilia notices Malleus is change in attitude.

"Malleus? Are you feelings alright?"

"Yes? Maybe? No, no i don't think i am."

"Okay, maybe take a breathe. Having romantic feelings isn't the worst thing that could happen."

Malleus finds himself in the library reading books about romantic feelings and relationships, subconsciously making a checklist to see if he really does have feelings for you.

Finding the other person attractive: yeah, he'd found you more appealing than others.

Wanting to be around the person more: yes, he always found himself wanting to spend time with you.

Feeling happier around the person: of course he felt happy around you.

As he kept going through questions you'd find on the back of a teen girl magazine his head was spinning.

He had a crush on you.

Oh dear.

He didn't really know how it approach it at first

Lilia told him to "go for it" and "court the perfect if you want to be with them"

As he thought about it, a romantic relationship with you seemed... lovely.

He began to crave it, to want you to have feelings for you back.

So he decided to court you.

You were confused at first, not knowing whatever... this was that he was doing

After all one night he disappears middle of your walk, and then various nights later is giving you what is seemingly expressive jewelry.

On the third night he offered you jewelry, you said something that shattered his world.

"Malleus I can't accept this-"

To you what was simply being polite, and not accepting crazy priced gifts was to Malleus a rejection.

So he pouted, and once again disappeared without warning.

When Lilia saw Malleus upset, speaking about how the perfect does not reciprocate his feelings, he knew something was up.

Lilia wasn't an idiot he knew you liked Malleus, so he needed to know what was going on.

When you saw Lilia at your door the next day, you jumped at the chance to get answers

"Do you know why is Malleus has been acting so strange?"

"Because you rejected him."

"I didn't reject him?"

"But he was courting you, and you didn't accept his advances?"

"Courting me? Since when?!"

"Oh! you humans court differently. You see when a dragon fae wants to court someone they usually give them precious gems, and rocks."

"So when I didn't want to take it..."

"He thought you were rejected his romantic advances."

Once it had set in, you put a plan into motion.

Later that day you showed up at the Diasomnia dorm.

Sebek wanted to kick you out upon sight, but Lilia and Silver held him down so you could go speak to Malleus.

Upon seeing you he was happy at first, then heartbroken.

"Malleus I have something to gift you."

His ears perked up.

He stared down at the rock with a painted heart on it in your hands with curiosity.

"I couldn't find a precious gem on such short notice, but I hoped this would temporarily suffice in allowing me to court the great dragon prince."

He had never felt so happy.

It's now his new prized possession, next to Gao-Gao Drakon-Kun.

#fanfic #malleus fluff #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland malleus #twst fanfic #twst fluff #malleus x y/n #malleus x reader #fluff fic #fan fiction #tooth rotting fluff #brainrot

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