#heart. OR she’s fully aware that that she still loves humans and that is why she does the things she does with the Fatui | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mondaymelon · 1 year

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— "𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂...𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴?" ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, scaramouche x gn!reader:

⤷ slight angst + comfort n fluff (oops i made kazuha’s part abnormally long) ⤷ They make you cry.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

At first, XIAO doesn’t understand that his words have cut you.

He was always one with a blunt, yet sharp tongue, never afraid to speak his mind or to criticize your actions on the slightest whim. After all, why should he be hesitant? His power is common knowledge - as an illuminated adepti, there’s few who can rival his dexterity.

But he never expected his words to hurt you. Xiao has never fully understood human emotion. He’s always isolated himself from the foreign concept, determined to separate him and such… frivolities. Emotions are for mortals, and he is not one of man. In his manner of thinking, he’s just helping you improve yourself, so why are you…

“Archons, Xiao. It’s always about my mistakes. My mistakes, over and over and…” Then your wavering voice cuts off as you swallow, hard. What did he do wrong? Why were you acting this way?

That’s when the aloof yaksha notices the crystal teardrops spilling from your eyes, running down your cheeks and staining the skin it trails. The slight hitch in your shallowed breath and the way you stray from his touch, trembling, anxiously wiping at your tears.

“...Love?” He isn’t accustomed to seeing you like this, avoidant of his gaze and so… vulnerable. “Wait, please-”

“Archons, love. Please, look at me.” Xiao takes your wrist in his gloved hand, his grasp cautious yet firm. His voice is pleading, quiet, strained with desperation.

“No, I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice shakes as he tries to meet your eye.

“Love, you are perfect. I never meant to say otherwise.” Please, believe me.

“I’m sorry. So please…” He detests the way he’s acting, heart racing so shamefully, yet still embraces you tightly, skin cold to the touch.

“Stay by my side.” ♥

KAZUHA’s eloquent wording is one that never ceases to amaze, so it’s only a twinge of misfortune that causes a misunderstanding to form.

As a poet, the way he speaks is quite ornate, a manner in which people may not comprehend. However, that’s never exactly been a problem when it comes to the communication of the two of you. You understand Kazuha, and that translates to his speech as well, so in a way, it’s only natural.

Yet…

“The show was incredible, wasn’t it?” You take Kazuha’s hand, and follow his gentle tug on yours as he leads you out of the crowd, smiling back at you. The white haired male, being the traveler he was, decided to take you for a night out in Liyue Harbor, where the two of you first ate a fine dinner, and just finished viewing a performance from the Liyue Theatre. Your heart still raced from the night’s breathtaking sights and wonders.

“Indeed it was.” He closes his eyes, a sign that he’s content, and you can’t help but widen your grin. “The main casting role, the lady with the flowing dress, was exceptionally talented. Just from the way she glided about the stage… you can tell she’s experienced, and blessed with bountiful potential.”

You nod along, albeit a little awkwardly. There’s nothing out of the ordinary for the two of you to discuss such topics, but for some reason, the way he’s speaking about her just makes your insides want to crawl.

He’s still droning on, eyes sparkling. “...Then, at the final scene, when she began to sing… say, Love, why don’t you try theater? It might suit you well. Maybe one day you’d be on a stage, just like her.”

What the male meant was: try theater out, you’d do well.

But what you heard, instead, was: you should do theater too. then you could be as brilliant as her.

You hated the way it felt like he was comparing the two of you, weighing which one held more worth.

“I know! We’ll be staying here for a while, so why don’t I sign you up for…” His voice trails off as he lets go of your hand, aware of the tears that are starting to form in your wells. “Love, what… what’s wrong?”

“Kazuha… please, stop.”

“...What?” He seems genuinely clueless, but clasps but your hands in his, a worried gaze written all over his face. “No, I…”

“Please stop comparing me to her. I already know I don’t deserve you… it’s just…” Fuck, now you really couldn’t stop the way the droplets started rolling down your cheeks, stray tears falling from your eyes and splattering onto the wooden planks below. All of your discomfort seemed to infuse themselves into the shameful adrenaline that was coursing through your veins, because you had worried if you weren’t good enough for Kazuha. Someone as lackluster as yourself, going out with a handsome young swordsman, intelligent, kind… he was loved by many, and you…

“...Love, please!”

When did he get so close? He’s leaned in, concerned, crimson-eyed gaze trained onto your every movement. “What are you even thinking about, to be breathing so heavily… no, c’mon love, look at me.” And when you do, eyes meeting his, his mouth morphs into a somewhat smile. “There must’ve been a misunderstanding.”

“Because you are most certainly superior to any other person in Teyvat.”

“And of all people, you…”

“I am the one not worthy of your love, so don’t ever say that again.” ♥

SCARAMOUCHE doesn’t care at all, why should he?

He said some stuff that you took too close to heart, so what? If he hurt you, why should he fret over it? You’re strong enough to take it. All he said was one or two harsh words that merely came to mind, so there’s no need for you to be all wounded over it, either.

“Yeah, you’re pathetic.” Scaramouche scoffs at you, one hand on his waist while the free one makes sarcastic motions in the air. “You can’t even get one thing right, can you?”

The “thing” in question, in fact, was making Scaramouche dinner. You added a pinch too much salt, and now the male seemed to act like you’d committed a grave offense upon humanity… but then again, he was always dramatic, so this time shouldn’t be any different, right?

“I… I tried my best…” Your voice trails off as you cringe under his undermining glare.

“Clearly, your ‘best’ wasn’t enough.” His jeering tone is enough to make your heart shatter as you glance up at him, eyes wide. You don’t realize you’ve begun crying until you feel the sensation of tears spilling down your cheeks, falling from your eyes with silent melancholy as you seem to choke on your own words.

“Why are you… why are you crying?” You’re scared to look up at him, whatever expression he’s making, so you keep your head down, pitifully wiping your tears away.

“I’m not.”

“Sure you aren’t.” His voice is airy as he rolls his eyes, frowning at you. What, now you get to act all disheartened? What did he even do to upset you?

“I’m not crying.”

“C’mon, Kuni. It’s okay to say if you’re sad. Here, cheer up, and I’ll give you this flower, okay?”

A voice echoed in his head.

“...Huh?”

And it’s strange, really, how the sight before him mirrors one from long before. The way your eyes hold so much sorrowful desperation, the way you seem so broken inside, and most of all, the way the tears that run down your face seem achingly familiar.

“Shit.” His voice seems small, too small. “Wait, love, I-” His voice cuts off as he sighs, unsure of what to say. The beating of his anxious heart overpowers all noise.

“Love, I was… joking. I don’t mean any of it.”

“You being here is a blessing of itself.”

“Archons, please know how much I love you.” ♥

(a/n) i accidentally made xiao's part the shortest i am a disgrace to humanity

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iloveyoumorethansoup · 2 years

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I’m really out here making so many promises let’s see how many I can keep

#I’m like omg I actually cannot stand my college so like I’ll gladly stop by every long weekend I have to work #and yes. I’ll gladly do that. Will I have time? the effort? that’s a long trip #like for sure I’ll be there over the winter break but like still #I’m gonna text my manager like these r my breaks u can schedule me :)#no also like I’m fully aware I’ll be back so like why am I so sad about leaving???#like I’m not gonna see these people in like a month or 2 #also like I wanna tell people I’ll miss them but god knows the words won’t leave my mouth that’s too close to a human emotion #my face resting looks pretty miserable but being at work keeps me pretty entertained so my face is rarely resting #i was waiting on something tonight and one lady was like what’s wrong :( and I’m like bestie that’s just my face I always look a little sad #and like 3 different people were like no you always look so happy!!#oh also I have freezing hands all the time and love bothering people and one lady was like well you know what that means #if you’ve got cold hands you’ve got a warm heart. and that’s definitely true with you #same woman who told me there’s about 4 billion and 4 cups of tea brewed a day. is she my favorite person? easily #no I told her that too today she said something nice and I’m like u know I think ur one of my favorite people here #and I’m like. oh so mouth and head r running separately ok that almost sounded like I care (I do and will not admit it)#that’s so funny that I can’t just be like I’m gonna miss you :( I gotta be like u know ur one of my favorite people #like girl please #soup talks

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shadesoflsk · 3 months

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MOONTALK

pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN Reader.

summary: After retiring, Leon often has nightmares about his past. Talking under the moon's gaze seems to help.

warnings: Smut MDNI, just oral (m receiving), angst to fluff to smut hehe, mentions of death, violence, and alcohol, catholic symbolism, dad bod leon hehe (x2) subby leon, reader is called spouse.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: Hello! This is very simple since I'm trying to get better at writing smut for gender neutral readers :) There's not enough content and while I improve at writing the whole sex scene I shall bring you this! (I'm open to suggestions or constructive criticism.) As always, I hope you're having a good week!

The starry night is chosen to be Leon’s witness in the middle of his stolen slumber.

It’s a common occurrence, part of himself longs for the pain-filled activity since it serves as a reminder of his own life. Night terrors scare him more than his anxiety. The first one clings to his soul and threatens him with an inability to wake up. Helpless to his own mind, he prefers to be fully awake.

However, his brain isn’t his friend. Even when awake and aware of his surroundings, his mind would recreate scenarios he has lived before. Blood dripping and sticking to his combat boots, the smell of the iron-ish liquid filling his nostrils painfully making its home in Leon’s head, messing up with his perception of the world and himself.

Somewhere in that messed up path, he had found you.

He didn’t intend to, it wasn’t in his plans to. He had locked his heart and thrown the key somewhere in the sea of his failures.

A feeling of regret brimmed in Leon’s soul. How could his name be attached to yours if the sole mention of Leon Scott Kennedy brought memories of hell on Earth? A former rookie cop, ready to risk his life on duty turned into the government's best weapon. He’s made peace with that, ever since his mission in San Francisco his life has gotten significantly better.

But that doesn’t mean it has stopped hurting.

He once heard Jesus presented his left cheek to be slapped. In the past, he’d have imagined the mere thought of being that naive was ridiculous.

“You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”

Now, that passage has been planted in his heart like a thorn that wouldn't go away no matter how much he pinched the skin. But rather than being a bothersome feeling, it shaped him into the man he is now.

He would never be Jesus, he knows that much. Ever since he was a kid, his connection to religion was always dangling between trust and distrust; faith and doubt. Fear crossed his juvenile and innocent expression whenever he came across a statue of the people’s lord and savior.

God bad, Jesus good. People good and bad. The Old Testament was the backbone for Leon’s hatred towards God. If this supernatural being ‘loved’ his people, why would he punish them?

Sins are ambiguous. Killing is bad. But if he had killed creatures that were no longer humans, is he a sinner without redemption?

He’s still coming around that last statement. Were they really no longer humans?

That’s why he prefers the New Testament. A fresh start, a new life being born. Jesus wouldn’t judge him for the man that he was and is.

And just like him, he turned his left cheek in a mission in San Francisco years ago, when he ended Maria’s life. Bitter and revengeful for killing her father, the woman made it her mission to murder Leon. But ultimately (and ironically) she ceased to exist in Leon’s arms.

‘Revenge’ was met with a ‘Now you can be with your dad again.’ Merciful, he had granted her a last moment of peace.

The soundless night heightens Leon’s senses. As he tries to brush off his worries, some footsteps break the unnerving silence that Leon is in. His ears focus on the soft pace that he easily identifies as yours.

Recognition turned into monotone and monotone into mundane. And don’t get him wrong, God he loves feeling he has finally found his home.

Leon’s arms are resting on the balcony railway, blue eyes focused on the starry night.

“You should be sleeping.” He flatly says without turning to face you. Not out of apathy but guilt. Not being next to you has woken you up.

“Can’t sleep without my husband.”

Sensing you approaching, he opts to tease, trying to divert your attention somewhere else. “Wouldn’t be my dear spouse if you weren’t clingy.”

“I’m not clingy.” But you wouldn’t allow Leon’s usual antics. You know them by heart, lighthearted jokes instead of facing reality. “I’m just worried,”

“You worry too much.”

“But I’m always right.”

A sigh.

Teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes.” The phrase is not directed at you, but a response to his own thoughts. For him, safe and sound sleep is a blessing he’s not lucky enough to receive.

“I know.” And then again, your reply isn’t about yourself. A feeble smile appears on your face out of empathy and partial understanding. Standing next to him, your elbows rest on the balcony railway, the chill air sending goosebumps through your skin. “Did you dream about something?”

Leon’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he mull over her question. When he tries recalling his past moment of slumber he is met with the usual gruesome scenario and the same gut-wrenching screams.

“Same old tale.” He exhales. In the past he would have had a glass of whiskey in his hand, tilting the content to one side as he gazed over the starry sky. But he made a promise, and as much as his past comes back to haunt him, he’d keep it.

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Why I don't believe you?”

He brings a calloused hand to his mouth as he registers your words. Under the moonlight, his expression gives away his exhausted state, a hint of darkness around his eyes, a permanent faint frown.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yet here I am asking.” It’s not until now that you notice Leon’s shirtless torso. Most of his scars are turning a light white color while his bruises are changing their hues. His body is not the same from a few years ago. His abdomen no longer shows off his chiseled abs but a slightly round and soft belly.

“Feels like I’m walking in circles.” He finally answers with his eyes closed. His restless mind can’t give him a break. Unable to completely live in peace, he finds himself pondering about his own humanity.

“The past is always clearer at night.” With an expression akin to resignation, he looks at you. “And the past tells me I’m a monster.”

The faint sound of the clock could be heard even when they were both gazing into the sky and letting their thoughts be consumed by the chill night. It reaches the dreaded ‘Devil’s hour,’ 3 AM.

“You aren’t a monster.” And it is the truth. While Leon is a complex man, it is not a difficult task to unravel and search through the layers he has covered himself in. His heart beats for the nation and therefore its citizens.

“If I’m not a monster then what am I?” He replies, his face growing somber. “If what I’ve done isn’t destruction what is it?”

“Salvation.”

It is far from salvation. It’s selfish to even think that way.

Sadly, Leon was the designated pawn to complete the job nobody wants to do.

Sadly, Leon is no more than a victim in the web of despair and destruction.

“Salvation.” He scoffs, a sharp ironic demonstration that your words weren’t the best. “I used to fight while the innocents kept falling at my feet.”

A glimpse of a past self appears in front of you. Chaos and loathing unfurls.

It’s been years since you last saw the man who used to drown himself in the deadly burning liquid. However, the alcohol no longer filled the empty spaces in his body and soul.

Truthfully speaking, nobody can fix or heal anyone. But you gladly took the role of being Leon’s partner in life. Not only romantically speaking. Silently, you made a home in Leon’s heart and he was too comfortable with you to ask you to leave him.

“You didn’t do it in the first place.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The government did.”

“But I was just another bullet in a gun.” He replies softly, his gaze drifting forward. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t completely shake off the guilt that kept haunting him. “Another man with his finger on the trigger… I was just a man with a gun.”

“And you’re also a man with a heart.” You respond immediately, not giving him a chance to continue his venom-filled words toward himself.

“If you were the demon you think you are, these late-night thoughts wouldn’t be haunting you as they do. You wouldn’t be mourning every soul even after all these years.” Your words bring a sense of comfort amidst the internal battle that is occurring inside him. The weight of his burden has always been more bearable with you.

“You think I’m that much of a saint?” A faint smile tug at Leon’s lip. A troubled expression on his face tells you he is still not believing your words. Or perhaps, he feels like he shouldn’t believe you.

“I don’t think you’re a saint. Humans are much more than black or white, good or bad. We are gray.”

Your statement is true. Humans are far from being one-dimensional beings. The balance has always been there and he knows it. When he was a child and religion was still an important part of his life, he remembers when Jesus protected Mary Magdalene.

‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’

Leon had stained his hands with blood and gore, but he had also saved countless lives when the odds were against him.

“God… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs, finally bringing you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“No, you’re just human.” You reply, admiring the view your balcony provides, you think about the endless possibilities in life. If you hadn't met Leon, where would you be? And if Leon hadn't met you? How his life would look right now?

Universe works in mysterious ways, if you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have your soulmate next to you.

A comfortable silence sets in as Leon finally relaxes and gives his mind a break. There were days and nights in which his brain was weak, but that doesn’t mean he hasn't gotten better.

“I would do laundry and taxes with you in every timeline.” You break the silence with a quote from a movie both of you had watched and Leon being the moviegoer he is, you know he’ll recognize it.

“That's not how the line goes, you silly.”

Bingo.

“Then enlighten me, Mr. I know every movie by heart.”

“It is ‘in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’” He states matter-of-factly which gains a laugh from you. But in a way, you’re used to his antics and almost nerdy personality only you get to see.

But your words mixed with the ones from the movie hold a glimmer of truth. Even in a timeline in which he wasn’t an agent and just a regular citizen, you’d have fallen for him. Because his past doesn’t make him the man he is now.

In another life, you’d love him over and over again.

“But I’d do all those things in this life and even in the afterlife.”

His eyes fall on you, the glimmer in them now being obvious. Just a few words from his love would pull him out from his depressive nights.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m just amazing like that.” You wrap your arms around Leon's neck while his hands rested on your middle section. “Now hug me because I’m fucking freezing.”

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Laughing, he pulls you closer in a tight embrace. “I’d hate for you to catch a cold. Besides… I need my cuddling partner every night.”

As both of you move out of the balcony and away from the cold wind of the night. Leon’s hands move painfully obvious to your rear. After his late thoughts, he only wants to feel you close to him.

“I don’t think you want to cuddle.” You remark the obvious. Leon just chuckles, nodding.

“Aside from being the perfect partner you’re also a mind reader?”

You step in your bedroom. Place that has been witness to Leon’s most vulnerable moments, from the times in which he'd come back from a mission to the ones in which both of you would get lost in each other's bodies.

His sanctuary, your heaven.

You smile at him as you motion him to sit down on the bed. Both of your eyes are locked in a gaze that says what you are feeling, love. No matter how hard his or your days could be, both of you could always come back to a partner that takes care of them. No matter the situation.

As he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, you lean closer and press a kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his cheek, and lastly to his lips. This last one lingers more than the others, sweet and slow, like how you want to treat him tonight.

“I love you.” You whisper as you pull back from the kiss, your thumb grazing over his stubbled jaw.

“Love you more.” He responds with the same tenderness you have brought him. After saying his words, his hands traveled to where your hips were, attempting to pull you closer.

“Nuh-uh. Tonight’s about you, sir.” You have your mind set that this night is going to be all about the perfect husband you have in front of you.

With that, your lips once again found their home but this time it was on Leon’s neck.

With your lips giving some attention to Leon’s sensitive skin, you treat him like he was fragile porcelain.

After a few moments, you slowly lower yourself until you're between his thighs. Another reminder of how much his body has changed, his thighs were fuller and bit less toned than before.

He has seen you like this before, on your knees and with the sweetest of looks but dear God it gets better every day.

You press your cheek against Leon’s inner thigh, your hand rubbing the flesh that is still covered with his sweatpants. He was no longer an active agent therefore he had gained some weight which you completely love. He blames the alcohol he used to drink so much and the lack of high-impact exercise. But you always reassure him that you love him nonetheless.

Your hand creeps to his clothed crotch, you gently trace along the bulge that has already formed. Leon’s breath is starting to get heavier but nothing too scandalous, for now.

“I haven’t even touched properly and you’re already this hard.” You are trying to be gentle, but there’s something about having control over him even when you’re on your knees that just prompts you to tease him a hit.

“Might as well cum in the spot, don’t you think? Bet you’re already imagining me pulling down your boxers and stroking your cock.” The face Leon was making could send you straight to heaven.

“You’re the devil…” Leon tries, he tries to gather himself by making a joke. But his high-pitched speech comes out pathetic. A rebuttal? More like a whine.

“What? My handsome husband can’t handle the spice? I expected better.” The praise seems to hit a spot somewhere in his body because the way his hips just bucked and sought the friction of your hand was contradictory to his previous words.

“Please…” And after that whimper, you no longer want to tease the man. Especially tonight in which he deserves the best.

“Ok, ok. I gotcha…” You murmur, wasting no more time and pulling his sweatpants down. A wet spot is already formed in his gray boxers. Then again, more teasing words flood your mind but you brush them off.

With a gentle kiss on his inner thigh, your fingers hook around the fabric and slide it down. His dick springs forward, and as always, it makes your mouth water. It’s the same image as always, slightly curved lenght with veins you had memorized by now and a reddish tip that tells you how bothered and pent-up he’s been.

Marriage has always been depicted as a boring and monotonous lifestyle, in which you get bored of your spouse after a couple of years. In a sense, you understand where they come from. However, Leon and you always made sure to keep things interesting, and as corny as it sounds, both of you try to make the other fall in love again.

You press a kiss on his tip, holding back a laugh as you know how sensitive he must be. The slightest touch has him gripping the bedsheets.

“You’re teasing.” He says as his lips form a pout. His calloused hands flatten on top of your hair

“Am I?” You give his shaft a few kitten licks, not breaking eye contact while doing so.

Finally, your shenanigans are followed by your lips wrapping around his tip, sucking the area. That gains a whimper out of Leon, the ones you’re so used to.

When you first met the stoic agent, you wouldn’t have thought that he’d be so vocal in bed. Even when he was supposed to be on top, he’d let the most beautiful moans against your ears. asking for permission to continue, asking for permission to fill you up.

For a moment, your lips continue sucking off his tip. Your saliva coating the area and sloppily making out with the head of his dick. Your fingers wrap around the base of it, almost overwhelming Leon with the amount of attention he is receiving.

“Ah — Fuck…” His eyes roll back as you finally take him whole. The previous ministrations long forgotten as your mouth and part of your throat surround his sensitive cock.

You bob your head, slowly at first, controlling your breath as Leon involuntarily thrusts his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. You place your hand on Leon’s thigh, to motion him to stand still.

“Shit — sorry, sorry…” His voice gets slightly higher, now his previous words turn into pleas or straight-up moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth as your tongue runs on the underside of his cock.

“Too good for me…” He’s reduced to just babbles and whines, his knuckles turn white as keeps on gripping the bedsheets, an awful attempt to drown more moans. As you continuously bob your head, Leon could feel his high coming.

Unconsciously and given his dazed out state, he brings his leg to your shoulder. You were completely focused on him and this simple action made your concentration break a bit. He’s putty in your hands, his brain no longer functioning whenever you are in control.

You’d edge him, you’d definitely tease him for that. But now, you just continue sucking him off with the inner side of his thigh brushing against your cheek.

“I’m gonna — Fuck…” It’s not a warning, but a comment, a needy announcement. As much as he denies it, there’s not a better image than seeing you covered with his cum, or watching you swallow it whole. It made him feel a sense of pride, knowing that his spouse is the one making him come undone.

And as your tongue runs along a vein, he couldn’t contain it any longer. With a high pitched whine and throwing his head back, he spills down your throat.

The warm liquid fills your mouth and some of it drips from the corner of your lips.

You stay still for a moment, collecting every last drop of Leon’s cum. When you feel Leon’s hand on your shoulder —the one that doesn’t have his leg on it— you know he was asking you for a break.

Pulling out with a pop, you gently move his leg for him to rest.

For a few seconds, you just massage your jaw as Leon tries to recover. Heavy breaths fill the dark room, allowing you to relax once again.

“You good?” You ask as you are sitting down on the floor.

“Yeah — Just… give me a second.” He laughs, closing his eyes. A loving smile forms on his face.

You laugh too, getting up from the floor, you admire the scene Leon provides you: All of his body exposed to you, his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his ankles, and his fucked out expression.

Heaven.

After a minute or so, Leon composes himself.

“I’ll make sure to wake up every night if this is the treatment I get.”

“Next time I will just tie you up to the bed.”

“Oh? I like the sound of that.”

Laughing, you slap his naked chest as he pulls you closer. Nights like this are a reminder of his humanity and his right to love and to be loved. The past can never be changed or forgotten, but he can learn from it.

💬shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

author's note 2: I just had to mention eeaao! It's one of my favorite movies and I know Leon would love it. Sorry if it was too sappy of me but then again... I'm always like that.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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edenesth · 3 months

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The Way to His Heart [15]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16

"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"

The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."

"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."

Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.

Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.

Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."

With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."

Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"

The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."

A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.

Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"

Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"

That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.

Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"

Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."

"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."

Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."

Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"

Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."

Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."

That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.

Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.

"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."

Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."

Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."

The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."

Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."

"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.

Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"

"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."

Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."

"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.

The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."

As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.

"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.

"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.

With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."

The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.

Well shit, that's not good at all.

"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.

Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.

San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.

What if reality's more than you could bear?

You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.

As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?

To hell with it.

Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."

He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.

Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"

San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."

You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."

So, it's true.

Your heart sank at the confirmation.

"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"

His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.

The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"

Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.

Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.

"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.

His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."

As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."

Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.

Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.

Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.

"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."

Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.

After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."

With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.

The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.

"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.

As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.

"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.

With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.

Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."

Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

« Preview of Part 16 »

"General Park! Letters for General Park!"

The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"

"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"

Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."

Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"

The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."

Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."

As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.

However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.

'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'

Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈

Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/9): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @kamabokogonpachro @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

580 notes · View notes

dearly-somber · 3 months

Text

stand still (i’m sniffing you) | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, f2l (friends-to-lovers), (not actually) unrequited love, pining, mutual pining, high school!au, werewolf/shifter!au, fluff, domestic fluff

-> w/c. 802

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. Inspired by that one clip where Jungkook back-hugs Hoseok while they’re practicing 🥹🥹

-> collection. mini-series

-> warnings. None!!

-> started. Mon., Feb. 19th, 2024 @ 21:42

-> fin. Mon., Feb. 19th, 2024 @ 22:19

-> edited. Tues., Feb. 20th, 2024 @ 07:06

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook has a stronger sense of smell than the rest of his pack. Partially because his wolf is simply better at it (much to the pack’s chagrin, because Jungkook never fails to bring it up during their biweekly pissing contests), but also because he’d been blessed with a good sense of smell even in his human form.

Something is burning a street down? Jungkook can smell it.

Someone took a shit in the backyard because they were too lazy to shift and do it inside where they could flush it? Jungkook can smell it (and he’s going to make it everyone else’s problem).

Y/N comes over without letting him know and—wait, what?

He sticks his head out of his room like an excited cartoon character. “Bunny?”

Jennie glowers at him as she’s walking down the stairs, shaking her head with a sigh. “She’s not even halfway up the pavement.”

Jungkook frowns, feeling a prickle of embarrassment race up the back of his neck. “A-and! You know she’s here!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I can hear her,” Jennie sasses, scoffing with a grin so shit-eating Jungkook thinks his eye twitches, “not because I’m so honed in on her scent that I know she’s coming from a mile away.”

“Okay it was not a mi—Y/N!”

She huffs as Jungkook barrels into her, stumbling back ever so slightly. Jungkook feels his wolf wagging his tail like the love-struck mutt he is, pulling back at Y/N’s signature okay, that’s enough pat-on-the-back she does whenever she deems a hug “over”.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” He can’t help but speak loudly, wondering if his eyes are sparkling—cliche, sure, but he remembers Yoongi mentioning it once, and it hasn’t left his mind ever since.

Y/N laughs (Jungkook’s heart soars in his chest), shaking hee head as she drops a duffel bag next to the coffee table, walking toward the kitchen with Jungkook hot on her heels.

“I wasn’t planning coming over but my mom dropped me off to go to the library and she isn’t picking me up until five, so I decided to come over and hang out.”

That explains it! Jungkook wondered why Y/N smelt more bookish than usual today. It’s always present under her daffodil-raisin combo, but it makes sense why it’s so much stronger today. He imagines her sitting in the library for hours on end, fully immersed in a book, and the thought makes him smile like a fool.

Jungkook is hit with the sudden, overwhelming urge to smell you. Fueled by his excitement at a surprise-visit and the whims of his wolf, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest and pressing his nose to the back of your neck. His nose scrunches happily as he inhales your scent, first in short, wolfish little huffs, and then in longer, more appreciative inhales which infiltrate all his senses.

He waddles into the kitchen clinging to Y/N’s back, vaguely aware of the conversation she’s started with Rosé, Seokjin and Jisoo (who are busy making dinner), too focused on keeping his nose scrunched to the back of her neck to hear (or truly care about) the specifics.

“Jungkook-ah,” Y/N says softly, reaching up to touch his hands.

“Stay still,” he huffs, feeling a tingle run up his arms when she shivers at his breath on her neck. “I’m sniffing you,” he mumbles, swaying her from side to side as they come to a standstill in the middle of the kitchen.

Y/N snorts, and he imagines she has a smile on her face.

“Yah!” Seokjin yells, maneuvering around them with a pot of rice held close to his chest. “I’m trying to cook!”

“Yeah!” Rosé frowns, roughly mixing what Jungkook now realizes is kimchi. “Get a room!”

“Kook,” Y/N starts.

The whine he lets out dies in the back of his throat when she reaches up over her shoulder to palm his hair, gently scrunching her fingers in the messy strands. “Lemme help cook dinner and then we can play some Mortal Combat before I leave, hm?”

Waiting until the heat in the tips of his ears cools a little, Jungkook gives a curt little nod of his head (blatantly ignoring his wolf’s request to nip your shoulder). He inhales long and hard before finally letting you go.

Y/N then very casually turns to help the trio in the kitchen as Jungkook plops onto the couch in between Lisa and Hoseok with a satisfied sigh, practically sitting on top of them.

He yelps, rubbing the back of his head when he feels Hoseok smack him over the head with a pointed look.

“What?” he says, high-pitched and pouting.

Lisa just laughs, shaking her head as she scrolls through her phone. “You’re hopeless, Kook.”

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whalesforhands · 6 months

Note

hear me out: dyf!mc touching gojo AND geto too, but not only their muscles. what if she traced her fingers along where she remembers there being scars or injuries? what if she were to ask them what happened after she “died?” i feel like that would make for some rlly heart wrenching hurt/comfort and closure to the failed mission for the trio? :((

-omori anon

warnings: suggestive, but only in the first few paragraphs

“Does it ever… Hurt?” It’s a vulnerable moment, pillowtalk after a session of copulating that leaves you all sweaty, lying in between the both of them as you’re on your side, facing Satoru as you trace the scar on his chest.

You weren’t aware he had one too, not when you had just noticed the one on Suguru.

It catches your eyes, the mark on his chest as your hands trail down the skin as he’s on top of you, your passion no where near interrupted as your hands subconsciously move to trail over the ‘X’.

He’s so close, so warm… A shy tilt of your head upwards towards him has his hips coming to a slow, his neck craning down to meet you halfway— Only for your lips to map across the scarred skin, shyly leaving kisses before your twinkling eyes look back up to meet his widened gaze.

A breath sucked in, a hand grasping both of your wrists, before Suguru’s mouth is desperately slotting over yours, a muffled yelp is all that is able to escape you.

“…fuck, that was cute.”

“Not when you’re here.” Satoru’s voice is full of steady adoration as he watches the arm Suguru has draped over you, your waist cuddled into the black-haired man’s arm as Gojo himself settles a hand on your cheek.

“Shoko said that you both were the only ones to be able to fully heal anything.” So… Why didn’t they? Why keep this painful reminder?

There’s a beat of silence that passes; and the air changes, tenser, hesitatant and a swallow of doubt.

Did you say something wrong? You’re starting to upset yourself as your hands still on his chest. “You don’t have to answer if—“

“I suppose I lacked confidence.” His eyes close as he brings your hand up to his face, lightly kissing your fingers. It’s unusual; seeing the Gojo Satoru lying next to you quiet, shaken, with a trembling hand that goes to desperately clutch at yours.

“I didn’t believe in myself enough to remember.” It’s a bane, his existence. Something he’s realized at the mercy of time. There’s nothing fulfilling about being ‘the strongest’ if there’s no one beside you. Though, he will be able to handle it, to power through it all, through anything.

But at what cost? If he already lost you; if he lost Geto Suguru… What will become of him? Why does he keep this lowly mark on him that will only flay his mind with torture and distress?

Because it has you. It has you— Inscribed into the affliction, lived on through the searing burn it gives him sometimes.

He’s only human, even if born with power to rival the gods. Age will catch up to him, jamming his thoughts and evaporating the swirling blue of his youth away.

So even if his precious blue memories were broken beyond recognition with time, this unsightly scar that scalded his skin— As long as it was proof that you existed, he wouldn’t forget about it.

A novelty that had yet to wear off. It almost brings a tear to his eye how poetic he thinks he is; he wonders what Suguru thinks. It was never discussed between them; more like a silent contract they’ve subjected themselves to every night as they indulged in each other’s presence in the days without you.

A chuckle leaves his lips as he breathes out the next few words. It’s kind of funny, humorous to him that he gets to say them now, the words he had been trying to formulate for the nights that lost you.

“I love you.” And he’d say it for as many times as you want— As many lives as you and Suguru can continue to exist.

I love you I love you I love you I love you—

It’s in these moments that Gojo Satoru realizes how much weaker he is than he thinks, how the warmth of your blood sparks against your skin, how the distance of your pigments are finally gone. How the shine of your eyes still persist even after all this time.

So don’t leave again. Don’t.

“For me— I guess I didn’t want to change.” Suguru’s soothing voice is breathed into your ears as the soft whisper is audible enough for all three to hear. He finds it comparable to a brand, a morbid reminder of their failure, and at the same time— Of you. Would you call it selfish or nonsensical if he said this was only one such proof of their love?

Geto Suguru likes to think he took you for granted. To wallow in what he lost, what he failed to save, what he couldn’t do, even when struck with grief and anguish and terrible anger.

Is it an easy thing to say? Or is it a difficult thing to do? He can’t decide; Not when the act is to accept the fact that you had gone without them. The undefined and unknown seeped into him, a lack of words that only left him holding onto smoldering feelings.

He was lost, listless and blank, steeped in days that bloomed him into despair if it wasn’t for the glowing hope that allowed him to hang on in the form of Gojo Satoru.

“But it shouldn’t matter now, right?” His nose buries itself deeper into the crook of your neck as he feels you here. It almost scares him to get used to this.

In the time you were gone, it is painful how much things had been subject to change, how they all couldn’t stay the same as it was back in those nostalgic summers.

“I’m…” Speechless. You don’t know what to say as these two men nuzzle further into you, their holds getting tighter, wanting— Almost protectively. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

“Whaddya apologizing for?”

You nearly want to cry at the way they’re so dismissive of their own past. “For making you think back to those times.”

“It’s really nothing,” Suguru closes his eyes as he breathes in the scent of your hair, the loveliness of your skin against his. “You’re here now.”

He answers for the both of them when he says that line.

There is no use for yesterday, no point of crying for what that was lost. So, let them love you and each other until the end of this time, and let them do it again in the next life all over again.

Because it’s odd, an enigma— With how your hands have always been warmer than theirs.

masterlist

#omori anon #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #dyf au

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kuekyuuq · 4 months

Text

Supercorp - Rehashing the Fallout once more

Today's menu: Kara Danvers' Double-Standards.

I am rewatching Supergirl, and it occurred to me why I am with Lena on the "you lied to me" point. (Not the brain-wash the planet or taking a year to get over herself and realize her own - horrible - mistakes parts, though.) Not because of the lie itself or its content, but its context with Kara's very own history!

Let's take a walk...

In the pilot Kara gets mad at Alex for her having kept her double-life as a DEO agent secret from her.

Kara is utterly disappointed and distraught at the secrets her parents kept from her (Medusa, Myriad), some of which affected her directly (Krypton's impending destruction).

Kara finds out that James is Guardian before he told her and she was pretty upset, explains it's because they are humans throwing themselves into danger.

When J'onn explains to Kara how bonded Martians share their minds, Kara expresses how she thinks the “no secrets, no lies” sounds “beautiful”.

Kara ends their relationship with Mon-El over him lying about his true identity (and him being the Prince of a cruel society), ignoring him when he said he tried several times to tell her. When Mon-El let himself into Kara's apartment to apologize, he BEGS for forgiveness

but Kara says she deserved better than being lied to… Yes, she secretly forgave him at this point but still breaks up with him (Rhea told her to do so) and cries over it.

Music Meister teaches Kara (and Barry): “Love is about letting yourself be saved, it's not just about saving other people.”

Trust.

Lillian tells Kara, she doesn't need to spill SG's identity, because when Lena FINDS OUT, it'll be so much worse.

(And Lillian was SO on point!)

When Kara and Clark spar and have a heart-to-heart, Kara wonders if she can have it all, Clark assures her about the most important people make keeping the secret worth it and how letting (only) those important people in IS enough. Later, asked the same questions, Cat tells Kara that women have the guts to be vulnerable, lists her accomplishments.

Kara does not take Lena possessing some of Lex's Kryptonite nor the whole Sam/Reign-secret kept from her well. Gets even angrier when Lena creates her own Kryptonite (in her quest to fight/cure Reign …and cancer and other human ailments).

Or Mon-El hesitating to tell and keeping from Kara about his time-travelling, marriage and his actual mission…

That is up until mid-s03 and not even counting the many times how the show also taught us through Alex', J'onns and Lena's lenses that lying and pretending to be someone one is not to those important/close to oneself, is harmful to their (romantic and platonic) relationships and themselves.

Do I need to go on?

...Kara is clearly fully aware at that point that secrets (even her own) do not bode well in any type of relationships she would like to have and keep.

And, yes, I am fully aware of the "point of no return" argument, in all its validity, that at some point the lies had stacked up so much, that the hurt was inevitable, the fear of rejection more and more founded, of Kara wanting to be "just Kara" with Lena… Every season, every in-show year that passed and Kara kept her secret(s), it became impossibly harder to come clean. But, re-watching the show, it just seems so… irresponsible? And the more often Kara makes a point herself being lied to is a bad thing, even …hypocritical.

I am not saying any of the people who lied to or kept things from Kara were in the right or wrong - a totally different discussion that would require individual assessment. But, Kara, making the same point over and over again? Several times about the very topic of hidden/fake identities and double-lives… But then proceeding to keep her proclaimed best friend in the dark about herself, still?

Yeah, that bugs me. A lot.

IMO, after the whole Mon-El returned thing Kara would or should have had an epiphany about telling Lena the truth about herself… but then Reign beat her into a coma and all kinds of hell broke loose.

But… Yeah. Not even for Supercorp reasons. But internal logic.

From a story-writing perspective; you have your (main) character face a (similar but slightly different) situation a couple times before they learn their lesson. You plant the seeds (in this case: identity reveal) and then have it play out, based on what the character had learned(!) this far. And you have them deal with the worst-case-scenario backlash, if you need any for drama's sake, but it should make some level of sense… Instead they had Kara learn nothing, had her lie to Lena for another two years, and turned Lena into a spiraling madwoman. And Kara… well, now in Mon-El's shoes, could not quite understand how Lena (in Kara's former shoes, but with much more tainted personal experiences) was deeply, intimately hurt, devastated, and struggling.

Kara saw this coming - but tbh, when Lillian spoke so (unintentionally) truthful, Kara should have focused on the implied "if someone ELSE but you tells her", and when talking to Kal, realized that he didn't keep his secret FROM his most important people (Lois, James…) to protect them. Taken Cat's advice to have the guts to be vulnerable to reap Lena's long-term trust instead of settling for "for now this works, right?".

Not to mention that the whole show over and over stressed, that Kara could "have it all" without revealing herself to the world (the 100th episode even making a point that telling the world WILL put her loved ones at risk) or deciding on one half of herself, but then the show ended, and… yeah… I guess, some sort of witness protection for everyone?

No more casual strolls for "just Kara" through the park…

I adore the show, but… continuity?

It's just a bit painful to re-watch the show and watch Kara fault and shame others over and over again, only to go ahead and do the thing herself... Aware, yet oblivious. And NOBODY calls her out on it. (The one time Alex asked her and Kara was all like "I had to take the dog to the vet" is too little too late.)

Thankfully the fandom is so amazingly creative <3

#Kue out.

#supergirl #supercorp #the reveal #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara zor-el #lies #none of the pics or gifs are mine!#rant #picture heavy #long post

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writerpetals · 1 year

Text

pleasure requited | 🔞

; optional female lead smut | ☁️

w: vampire!au, mommy kink, slight-degradation

She isn’t even aware of how physically strong she is as she falls to her knees before you. She bats her beautiful eyes as you graze your thumb over her soft lips. A fire ignites within her as the words ‘baby girl’ fall from your mouth, and though she doesn’t even need to breathe, a heavy exhale fills the room.

Baby vampires always have more power than they need until things even out within themselves. They lose the bloodthirsty cravings. Their urges dim and eventually they are no longer a threat to the human race. It’s why you took her under your wing. Having been a vampire for about a century now and knowing how wild and reckless your kind can be when freshly turned, when you spotted her alone and abandoned by her maker, your stomach turned with disgust.

You didn’t turn her into what she is, but you did grow close to her as you taught her your ways. How to live under the radar. How to feed without killing. How to resist ripping open the throat of the strongest heartbeat in the room.

Still, she has so much power, and is so strong, but she only succumbs to you. Having spent a year with her has made the two of you extra fond of one another. If you were human you would probably call it love, but vampires unlearn such things over time.

“Mommy,” she whimpers.

Your heart flutters at the name that has become an endearment of passion. You love how desperately shaky her voice has become as her knees press to the aged woven, wool carpet of the master bedroom you share with only her. In the mansion you acquired nearly fifty years ago live many of your kind along with the two of you, but only she gets to see this side of you. Only she gets to be this close to the leader of the nest.

You grip her softly by the jaw. “Yes, baby.” Her lips twitch in a grin though there’s deep red desire in her eyes.

“Can I make mommy come?” she asks with a lick of her lips. If your heart functioned, no doubt it would stop beating at that moment.

There’s a devilish glint in her eyes before her smile widens, showing off the sharp points of her fangs a second before she presses her lips to your thigh. The red laced garter belt you adorn with matching panties does little to hide your own excitement from her words. You can already feel yourself dripping through the soft fabric as she presses kisses to your flesh, along the thin straps of the lingerie just to tease you. She’s powerful in more ways than one, though she definitely realizes the latter. The darkened patch of your arousal soaking through your panties can’t be missed.

“Let’s see if that dirty mouth of yours deserves it first, baby.” At your words, she pulls away, eyes wide like an awaiting puppy with her baby vamp teeth just barely poking out. It takes a lot of effort not to giggle at her disappointment, but she has to earn her rewards. “On the bed and on your knees, little vampire slut.”

Quickly, her eyes flash wild. The fire of desire is set ablaze with the gasoline in your words. It always gets her riled up. She obeys every command, crawling over the red, velvet blanket of your king sized bed before doubling over. Her hands and knees press against the mattress, ass in the air, and as her panties display the darkened patch of arousal between her quivering thighs, you realize she’s just as worked up as you.

You surprise her the moment you stride over to her awaiting body. Reaching out for her, your fingers brush over her awaiting folds, feeling the slickness within the cotton and causing her to shiver in response. A quiet moan escapes her lips while her body pushes into your touch.

Without warning, you push down the thin fabric that keeps your flesh from touching her own, finally allowing her drenched pussy to be fully on display for you. There’s a trickle of arousal glistening over her flesh, easing its way down to her clit as her legs remain spread for you. She grows impatient, burying her face into the covers so as to not make a peep from her lips. She knows there’s no use in begging. You enjoy taking in the sight of her just as much as you enjoy knowing how much she craves your touch. Or for her to touch you, which she will get to do if she’s a good girl.

Without a word, you reach for the toy you readied on the nightstand for her. Your fingers grip the crystal shaft attached to a leather harness. It’s one of her favorites to succumb to your domination, and you love how weak it makes her as the pleasure builds quickly, sometimes too intense for her own good.

“Mommy’s going to fuck her little vampire slut,” you begin to warn her as you dress yourself with the toy, taking your time and making sure to fasten the straps with a loud zip just to watch her shiver, “nice, and slow, and you won’t beg, or cry, or come without my permission. Got it?”

You step closer on the final word, dropping your palm over her ass just to hear her hiss. Her back caves, pushing her ass toward you as temptation, another moan slipping from her lips.

“Answer me, slut,” you command with a sharp, yet quiet voice, another slap to her ass filling the bedroom.

“Y-Yes, mommy,” she says with a shaky voice. Satisfied with her wavering, desperate tone as she speaks, you carefully crawl behind her on the bed with a smirk.

“That’s mommy’s good girl.”

She’s already so worked, the few slaps to her ass only added fuel to the fire. She’s on edge, and you know it will be hard for her to hold out. She will have to, however, if she wants her reward in tasting you and watching you come undone before her.

She barely makes a peep as you settle behind her, her legs parting and her ass in the air, awaiting your touch. You take your time just to drive her wild, knowing she’s worked up and anticipating your next move. The thrill makes her shiver, and as you place a firm grip on her ass does she finally release a small whimper.

“So wet and ready for mommy, aren’t you?” She whimpers again at your question, another shiver racing down her spine the moment she feels the glass toy against her flesh. You slip the tip up and down her drenched slit, teasing her further while working her body up even more. She pushes against you, so ready to be full of the pleasure you offer.

Though she won’t beg. Not yet. So it makes you take even more time.

“So ready to be fucked-“ You press the curved end of the toy to her entrance, hearing a gasp fall from her lips. “-and so ready to come. Like the little slut you are for mommy.”

She mumbles something into the covers, but you’re having too much fun to care in the moment. Love to see her slippery juices coat the glass surface of the toy as she becomes wetter. Love to watch her body tremble with need.

Slowly, you begin to thrust the glass cock inside of her, pleasure filling every ounce of your body from the desperate moan she releases in return. You fill her up, entering her completely, sinking into her juices and making her back arch and her fingers clench the sheets beneath her.

“That’s it baby,” you encourage her, rubbing her palm along the goosebumped flesh of her ass, “take it all, let mommy stretch that tight pussy of yours.” Your words weigh down on her heavy as she whimpers.

“M-Mommy,” she exhales, rolling her hips to give you the okay to move.

“Ah-ah,” you correct her, “I know my little vampire slut isn’t going to beg me already.” With that, your hand falls slack against her flesh, smacking her ass once again to cause her to jump. You just know she’s clenching those dripping wet walls around the glass cock, wishing it was your fingers or tongue in its place to really feel her.

“N-No,” she hisses, tensing her body a second before you begin moving your hips. Another moan fills the room as you exit and thrust into her again, creating a pleasurable rhythm that begins to drive her wild. Another hiss falls from her lips, nails dragging into the sheets as you fuck her slow and deep, taking your time, drawing out the noises to drive her even closer to the edge.

Messy sounds fill the room. She begins rolling her hips, becoming greedy. But she isn’t begging, and that displeases you.

Quickly with the strength of an aged vampire, you wrap your arm around her body, pulling her from the bed to press against your chest as you fuck her. Her gasp echoes, hands clutching your arm and nails digging into your skin while you sink the glass toy deeper inside her.

“Fuck…” she cries out, hissing as her fangs extend into sharp, needle-like points. A clear sign she is reaching her end. Your other arm reaches around to slip your hand between her trembling thighs, continuing to fuck her as you find her clit.

“What was that, little slut?” You taunt her with a chuckle, caressing small, quick circles into her flesh, sinking your glass cock deeper inside her. “Going to beg mommy? Going to come all over mommy’s cock before I’ve given the little vamp slut permission?”

“N-No…” she cries out, screwing her eyes shut, but she can’t stop her moans. She feels too good, but she’s trying to hold on. Her jaw slacks, needy, pointy fangs on display as she hisses, and when her eyes pop open, they’re a new blood red filled with desire.

She’s right on the edge. You continue fucking her, pleasing her, caressing her, and toying with her until you feel every ounce of your little vampire slut trembling. And just when she’s about to reach her peak… you finally pull away.

She slumps to the bed, leaving the toy dripping with her own juices the moment she pulls away. You look over your little vampire worked up yet too on edge to function. You give her a moment for the rush of near ecstasy to settle, and she recovers her senses quickly.

“That’s mommy’s good girl,” you praise her as you remove the harness from your body. “Ready for your reward?”

Hungrily, she looks over your body as she rises to her knees, crawling off the bed and onto the floor before you. With a smirk, you take a seat, allowing the little vampire to settle between your thighs. You spread your legs as her sights fall, giving her the perfect view of your panties soaked with your own arousal. You keep her gaze as you unhook the straps of the garter belt, taking your time and drawing out the moment.

“Slowly,” you instruct her, watching her come near. Her fingers hook into the band of your panties as her lips fall to your knee. You can feel the point of her fangs as she kisses your flesh, tugging on the flimsy fabric to shimmy off your body and toss to the floor.

Your legs fall open again, giving her the view of your perfectly dripping cunt ready for her tongue. She gulps, studying your glistening slit as her eyes darken with lust. No longer is she worried over her own pleasure, but wanting to please you. Wanting to taste and submit to the leader of her nest. Wanting to be the only one that gets to make you come, knowing the reward is worth the wait.

“Still want to taste mommy’s pussy?” A coy tone fills the air, smirking as you ask the question. All she can do is nod, eyes wide as she stares up at you, mouth waiting. “Let me hear you say it, little slut. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to taste your pussy, mommy,” she tells you without hesitation, a needy desperation in the words as they leave her trembling tongue, “I want to make you come. I want to eat mommy out and make you come on my tongue.”

The deliciousness in the words makes you shiver. She knows exactly what you want to hear.

“Do it, my little slut,” you command, “show mommy what that dirty little mouth of yours wants.”

She wastes no time, burying her head between your awaiting thighs as if it’s her last meal. Her tongue meets your flesh in desperation, making you gasp the moment she licks from your dripping entrance to your aching clit. Not stopping there, she takes her time circling the swollen bud, once, twice, three times. Massaging your flesh with her mouth earns quiet moans as you rock your hips against her face.

It’s all you can do to keep up with her pace as she cherishes the taste of your skin on her tongue. Your hands fall to her hair, weaving the strands between your trembling fingers as she continues to lick your pussy. Her tongue falls to your entrance to lather up your juices a moment before dragging the wet muscle back to your clit. You feel the vibrations of her moan between your legs, opening wider for her as she eases the tension from your body while eating you out, just like she wished for.

Soon she falls into a pleasurable rhythm, burying her face deeper between your thighs, allowing you to feel the two sharp points of her fangs between your flesh. Though she is careful, only offering you pleasure as the flat of her tongue massages between your folds.

A second later, her hands grasp your thighs, nails digging into your flesh. Your head falls back as she moans hungrily, gathering your sweet, dripping arousal between her lips. Greedily she pulls your body closer, taking you by surprise as a gasp fills the room. Back falling to the bed, you allow her control only for a moment due to the pleasure swelling inside of you. She licks your pussy, tends to your clit, makes you whimper and moan until the trembling heat nears its peak.

The red hot pleasure washes over you without warning. A roll of your hips takes the bliss she offers with need. And she doesn’t stop eating you out as you ride the waves of heat surging through your body, gripping her hair tight, back arching from the bed, legs trembling around her.

As you come down from the high, body still tingling with the sensation of her lips, you pull her close, crashing your mouth into her own. It doesn’t take you long to recover, wrapping an arm around her body as you kiss her deeply, hungry to hear the cute little whimpers from your baby vamp once again. Another hand slips between her thighs as she hovers over you, and the moment your fingers find her clit, she pulls away in a gasp.

She sat aching and waiting for bliss while getting you off, making you come on her tongue and now it’s only fair to finish tending to her body as well. With ease, your fingers clit over her flesh thanks to her sweet honey dripping over your diligent fingers.

“Mommy,” she whimpers, body already trembling, hips rolling against your motions, gaping with her eyes screwing shut. Your nails dig into her back with one hand, the other drawing her ever so close to the edge. “Mommy… please…,” she cries out, and it has never sounded more delicious. Watching her face twist in pleasure, the heat of bliss filling every inch until she can take it no longer.

Her body slacks as a gasp fills the space between the two of you. She rides your hand through the pleasure, crying out your name over and over as she comes undone. Juices drip over your digits and you can feel her walls spasming with an intense rush of bliss. She can only last a few more seconds before she goes completely limp and entirely spent.

“That’s my good girl,” you encourage her with kisses on her forehead the moment she begins to come down, finding comfort in your embrace. Sure, she’s an incredibly strong vampire, but you love seeing the moments when she submits and becomes weak for you.

#blackpink smut #marvel smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jennie smut #twice smut #dreamcatcher smut #red velvet smut #itzy smut #mamamoo smut #aespa smut #jisoo smut #girl group smut #gidle smut #x reader #x reader smut #optional bias smut

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metacrisisdoctor · 1 year

Text

Analgesic Effects

rose helps the doctor with his migraines. this was written for the @tentoorosemicrofics and i used the prompts “edge” and “worry” 🤭

rated e. 2.9k. pwp. canon compliant.

READ ON AO3

If Rose's heart is beating a little faster than usual no one has to know. She isn't sure exactly why she's so nervous considering the amount of sex she and the Doctor had had in the past ten months, but her fingers tremble a bit as she pulls her hair into a messy bun, rearranging the poof a few times until it looks right. High and centered at the top of her head, with a few strands hanging loose to frame her face.

She takes a deep breath and looks at herself fully, tugging a bit on the top of her scrubs here and there before turning to the side and checking the back. The point really isn't to look sexy she reminds herself. The point is to look like a massage therapist. A proper one. Besides, she knows the Doctor finds her sexy no matter what she wears.

With that in mind, she applies a bit of chap stick and begins to make her way to their adjoining bedroom.

A smile creeps up her face.

Sometimes she still can't believe it when she sees it. The Doctor, here, in her bed.

Waiting for her.

He doesn't even know what he's waiting for, he had just trusted her when she told him to get naked, which endears him to her even more. She didn't think it was possible to love him more than she already had, but he proves her wrong every single day.

"I said get naked, you know."

Her tone is light, obviously teasing. In the dim light of their bedroom, her eyes wander over his slim frame. There were times, many many times, - sometimes inappropriate times - that she wanted this so badly that it felt as if it might consume her, eat her alive.

Of course, back then, she was aware they were under a blackhole or some other awful wonderfully exciting danger, but there was always that little part of her that just wanted him. She'd ignore it as best she could until she could be alone with her imagination and her fingers then. This is a whole other game. She can't help but lick her lips in anticipation.

Now she wanted and knows she is wanted just as much, sometimes more. She'd always known, but it was a different kind of knowledge now. Having had his tongue on her, his cock buried inside of her.

God, his cock. Just the thought of it made her mouth water.

"I am naked," The Doctor says, holding a melting ice pack to his temple. His face is still pinched with pain. Obviously the paracetamol she had convinced him to take earlier hadn't done much to help his migraine.

She had always hated seeing him in pain, but it was rarer before. Usually it was emotional pain. These blinding headaches are something new. He hates them for reasons most people do. But she knows he hates feeling weak, hates feeling too human. He hates how they make him a bit crabby at UNIT sometimes, especially with her mum.

It was a while before he had accepted that he could be weak with her sometimes, that he was allowed to seek comfort in her and with her.

Rose tsks, "You're in your boxers. That's not naked."

He cracks open an eye then, looking at her in amusement. "Semantics. What are you wearing?"

"Oh, this? I've had them for ages," she fibs, waving her hand in the air. "Did you know I'm a certified massage therapist?"

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, catching on. "Is that right?"

"Mhm," Rose murmurs, walking over to their bedside table and leaning down to grab her lotion. She smothers a smile at the way she could feel his eyes on her, his gaze heavy on her backside.

It's a "girly" lotion, some lilac or lavender scented thing Pete had bought her a few Christmases ago when he didn't know her well enough yet to know what to buy her, but it is nice. And expensive. Other blokes might squirmed away at the idea of having something like that put on them, but the Doctor isn't any other bloke.

In fact, he's already turning to lay on his stomach when Rose looks up.

"Tell me if anything doesn't feel good, yeah?"

He nods, a soft and trusting smile on his face that made her heart grow warm.

She may not have actually been trained in massage therapy, but she knows enough about the human body - partly in due to the Doctor's constant ramblings about them - to put that knowledge to some use. The bed dips as she climbs on, straddling him from behind, careful not to put too much of her weight on him. She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his shoulder then sits up, uncapping the bottle and squeezing a generous amount onto her palm. After a few moments, she feels him begin to relax while she carefully digs her fingers and palms into his tense muscles, undoing the knots that he carried for who knows how long as best as she can.

Fifteen minutes later his breathing his so even that she wonders if he has actually fallen asleep. The idea makes her feel an odd combination of relief, pride and just a touch of disappointment. He actually needs sleep now. Not as much as she does, which he often boasts about, but he does need it. That does not mean he always gets it, which doesn't help his headaches at all, a fact that she often pointed out when she's dragging him out of his lab at close to midnight sometimes. Sleeping is a good thing, but she had hoped that would happen after the second part of the massage.

The fun part.

Her hands and wrists were a tad sore, though. Giving a massage was more work than she had expected it to be. She lets her hands glide down his back, running the blunt edges of her finger nails down his smooth skin until she hears him sigh.

"I thought you fell asleep," Rose keeps her voice low, her hand moving up to card through his mussed hair softly. Simply because she can.

The Doctor shakes his head, reaching behind him blindly until he finds Rose's hand and pulls it up to his lips. "Nah, not sleepy."

Of course not, Rose thinks but keeps to herself. Truthfully, she's glad. Very glad.

"D'ya wanna turn around so I can do the front?" It wasn't meant as a double entendre, but-, actually yes it was. But only if that was what he wants. Rose gnaws at her bottom lip, feeling him hesitate.

"Erm. Well,-"

Oh, no. Her eyes go wide, imagining she fucked up and pinched a nerve. "Did I do it wrong?"

"Absolutely not. You were brilliant, fantastic even. You always are. It's just. Well, you see- actually, it worked a bit too well. I'm a bit..." Rose can't help it, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth while he beat around the bush. Her body shaking until her ribs hurt with her efforts to keep quiet. "Are you laughing at me, Rose Tyler?"

"No!" Rose laughs, wiping a tear from her cheek. "It's just, if you have a boner you can just say that, Doctor. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

He huffs in response as she slides off of him and he begins to turn onto his back, "Alright, my feeble and pathetic human body has betrayed me once again. I have no control over any of my senses. Happy?"

"Stop being such a baby."

His lower lip shoots out at that, pouting up at her ridiculously.

The smile wavers on her face, her throat going dry when she sees the tent he's pitching in his boxers. It's almost more erotic than if he were fully naked somehow, the spot of precome that spread where the tip is straining against the cotton begging to be given attention makes her head spin. Unable to stop herself, she kisses him. Softly at first, then longer and slower, until his mouth falls open for her. He pulls her closer until she's laying half on top of him, one of his hands cradling the back of her head and the other moving up to cup her breast over the loose fabric of the scrubs. She shivers when his thumb circles her pebbled nipple, deepening the kiss further until they both moan.

The kiss breaks only when she wraps her hand around his still clothed cock and gives it a firm squeeze. The Doctor's head fall back against the pillows, the pain replaces with pleasure. She props herself onto an elbow to watch. His fingers trace mindless patterns at the nape of her neck while Rose watches his eyes close. It's serene.

She leans down and tugs on that plump lip she loves so much, then moves her lips lower. She kisses his jaw, then drags her open mouth down his neck, the slight stubble there burning her flesh in the best way. The angle becomes a bit awkward so she shifts again, moving onto her knees to straddle him again, letting go of his erection to rub herself against it. She moans into his skin as her throbbing clit brushes against him through the layers between them. The small amount of friction is enough to make her feel frayed at the edges.

The Doctor feels it too. She can tell by the way his hands move to her hips and press her down further until she was grinding herself against him, her lips wrapped around his Adam's apple. Fuck, she's so wet. But this isn't about her. Not this time. She had been nervous earlier. Because as much sex as they have already had, it still isn't everyday that the Doctor lets himself be taken care of. He's usually the one with his head between her legs, he's usually the one kissing down her body and touching her. Exploring and taking his time. She doesn't mind this, of course not. She loves it. But she wants to make him feel good too.

Relationships are about balance.

She also wants to see him lose control.

Rose lifts her head, "Does your head still hurt?"

"Not really thinking about it." The Doctor grits out, his hands wandering up her shirt to cup her tits. Rose's eyes fall closed, a whimper escaping her mouth as he rubs and tweaks her nipples in a way she had dreamt of so many times during their travels.

"Doctor."

He sighs, "A bit, yes. But I'm feeling much better."

He opens his eyes and wiggles his brows at her, his eyes glassy with desire. Still, it isn't the answer she was looking for. It isn't, but it is. She rolls her eyes fondly then reaches under the pillow, pulling out a black silk eye cover. She looks at him expectantly until he lifts his head so she can slip it on. It's no small matter, considering how sensitive he is about losing control of his body. Not that she has any wild plans, it really is just to block out the remaining light from the room, which she knows he understood. It didn't change the fact that he was opening himself to her in ways that she had never imagined he would.

(For some reason, she fought the urge to say good boy. A thought she files away for later.)

"For the record," Rose starts, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "I love your body."

Understatement of the century.

He doesn't respond, just swallows thickly. Another time, without someone else, she knew he'd be all winks and of course you do, look at me. No one else gets to see this side of him, no one else ever would. A feeling of possession arises in her. He is hers. Her Doctor. With that, she continues her journey, her lips now pressed into his collarbone. Her mouth opens to she can slide her tongue from one end, to the jut, then all the way to the other end. Her palm spreads on his chest, scraping her fingers through the smattering of hair there as her mouth moves lower and lower until she can feel his heart racing against her lips.

Her knees slide down the mattress, crawling down so she can kiss down his quivering stomach.

She can hear his heavy breathing when she reaches the elastic of his underwear, her own heart thundering in her ears. She nudges him to spread open his legs so she can get between them. How quickly he obeyed makes her womb clench. Moments later, his cock springs free when she pulls the plaid obstruction half way down his thighs. It takes all her strength not to pull him into her mouth right away. Instead, she wraps her hand around the base. Her thumb rubbing there softly.

Gorgeous, she thinks. Or maybe she said aloud, because he reacts. A small reaction, just a small laugh of... not disbelief. But uncertainty perhaps.

"What?" Rose asks, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. She watches him think, undoubtedly considering whether or not he wants to say.

"You don't think I'm too skinny?" He asks after a moment.

Her head rears back in surprise. Of all the things he could be self conscious about, that did not occur to her. Well, nothing had actually occurred to her. She thinks he's perfect, as if the universe had cut him from her dreams and placed him in her arms. But of course, there were things she had held back as well. Understanding sinks in as her mind wanders back to her telling him he wanted him to change back, to her not answering how he looked or telling him what she thought. She thinks of Mum constantly telling him to eat a bloody sandwich.

She shakes her head despite the fact that he can't see her, "I think you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I thought it then, and I think it now."

Every word is true.

There isn't an inch of him that didn't, that still doesn't, leave her wanting. She loves the sharp edges of his bones and the lean muscle that covers them. She loves how he was just a bit taller than her, but not so tall that it's uncomfortable. She loves his freckles and his asymmetrical face. His hair, of course.

He opens his mouth to respond, but whatever he was going to say was lost when he places the flat of her tongue against him and runs it up the part she has grown to love the most. His gasp is music to her ears, urging her on when she reaches the tip. Gently, she pulls his foreskin back and licks the glistening slit before swirling her tongue around the entire head. The Doctor breathes her name, shaky and needy. He's hard as steel when she takes him into her mouth, moaning around him.

Through the fog of her own desire, she looks up at him as she begins to suck in earnest.

It's a glorious view, better than any planet he could ever show her, she thinks. It's a form of worship, though he is no god. Not to her. Yet it feels holy to run her tongue over every ridge and vein that wraps around his length.

He lifts an unsteady hand and shoves the eye cover up, needing to see her. The bun she worked so hard to perfect comes undone, her hair falling down her back and covering her face. Tender fingers reach down and gather the blonde strands, holding them in place and guiding her movements all at once as he props himself on his elbow into a half sitting position. She can tell he's close by how he's thrusting into her mouth, any and all finesse slipping from his movements. It isn't long until she felt him begin to writhe, his breathing growing more erratic by the second. Her hand strokes as her head moves up and down, her lips slick. The room is quiet aside from the wet, sloppy sounds they're making and the distant noise of traffic outside their window.

There is a soft pop sound when she pulls away, followed by a whimper that she'll cherish until the end of her days. She's stopped a few times now, every time he gets close. She takes a moment to catch her breath, smirking at how his hips raise on their own accord, chasing her warmth. She runs her free hand up his thigh. "I want you to come in my mouth. Do you want that too?"

His jaw clenches, his body answering for him.

She takes in the way he's trembling, reduced to pure carnal need because of her. For her. It's almost enough to want to make her stop and fuck the orgasm out of him, but she wants this more. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she gives him a few shallow pulls, then swallows him whole and redoubles her efforts, pulling every trick she knows to drive him to the brink until he falls back onto the bed. His hands lose their grip on her hair, too lost in pleasure to do anything but flounder them around until Rose grasps his wrists and holds them down, pinning them to his side tightly.

He chokes her name when he comes, his back arching and causing his ribs to poke out. His hips buck up, fucking her mouth, chest pink, heaving and sweaty as he spills down her throat. Her jaw aches, but she works him through it until his stiff body sags, his cock softening between her lips.

"You okay?" She asks, kissing his hip bone.

"Never better," His voice is lower than she's ever heard it, "but I'm worried you may get your license revoked."

#my fic #dw fic #doctor who fic #tentoorose #tentoo x rose #doctor x rose #tenrose #ten x rose #tentoo #metacrisis doctor #rose tyler #timepetals #ficandchips

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dolphin1812 · 9 months

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Cosette!

There's a strong implication that the Rue Plumet house is an opportunity for romance, both through earlier descriptions of the garden (the emphasis on youth, weddings, love, etc) and lines like this:

"The convent is a compression which must last the whole life, if it is to triumph over the human heart. On leaving the convent, Cosette could not have found anything sweeter or more dangerous than the house in the Rue Plumet. It was the commencement of solitude with the commencement of liberty, a closed garden, but a sharp, kind, rich, voluptuous, and odorous nature; there were the same dreams as in the convent, but glimpses could be caught of young men,—it was a grating, but it looked on the street."

Most obviously, the passage mentions that Cosette could see young men through the grating, but the language used to describe the garden ("voluptuous") feels quite sensual. Romance would also be the specific subject Jean Valjean and the nuns couldn't/wouldn't prepare her for; if the nuns ever had experience with that, they swore it off when they became nuns, and Jean Valjean has never experienced romance ("Jean Valjean had never loved anything [. . . . ] [He] had never been father, lover, husband, or friend" - LM 2.4.3). I think Hugo centers romance and relationships for young women in a way that's uncomfortable (even if it's unfortunately realistic in some ways, given that they were financially very important [the struggle of having enough money if unmarried as a woman] and risky because of social pressures [like Fantine being ostracized because she had a child without being married]). Part of the discomfort is also from the way these societal expectations of gender blend with Hugo's ideas, like his notion that Cosette is especially lost because she doesn't have a mother to guide her with the combined experience of being a "virgin" and a "wife." Still, it's true that romance would be difficult for Cosette because she doesn't have someone to easily communicate with on the subject. Jean Valjean is the only person she has right now, and it's not a topic he's very aware of. Rather than the framing here, then, it's a bit more sympathetic if we take it as another instance of the importance of a broad network of social support. Romance would not be as dangerous to Cosette if she had a variety of people to learn from, just as it would have been safer for Fantine if she had had people to fall back on after being abandoned or if people had advised her more directly in the first place about what to expect from a student-grisette romance.

The house is also mixed for Cosette in that it contains remnants of a cage. The convent is the true "compression," so she's free now that she's no longer there. Still, the psychological cage might remain; we don't know if she'll break free of it. The grating is part-cage as well, giving her more freedom than the convent but still constraining her. She can see the world now, but she's not fully in it, either.

Most importantly, Cosette is still a child! Hugo's speculating on her future here, but Cosette just wants to find interesting insects! Her love of searching for creatures feels like a return to the gamins, who do the same when playing; it's a shared trait that defines them as children, regardless of their different backgrounds. They're all still young, so they play.

Her love for her father is so sweet. I adore that she tries to fight against Jean Valjean's total lack of self-esteem by demanding that he treat himself better, or else she'll treat herself the same way:

""Father, I feel very cold in your room; why don't you have a carpet and a stove?"

"My dear child, there are so many persons more deserving than myself who have not even a roof to cover them."

"Then, why is there fire in my room and everything that I want?"

"Because you are a woman and a child."

"Nonsense! then men must be cold and hungry?""

Cosette knows that Valjean would never make her suffer, so if she makes herself live like him, she won't actually live badly. He'll just raise his own standard of living to make sure she's comfortable. Valjean's love for Cosette is one of his main defining traits, but she really loves him, too, and it's great to see that expressed!

I also love that their bond transcends societal expectations and is unique to them. In the passage above, for instance, Cosette questions gendered expectations over what men, women, and children should respectively tolerate, rejecting the idea that women and children should be prioritized over men. Part of it is certainly that she knows her father could be living more comfortably, but it's also because she loves him and doesn't want him to suffer needlessly based on any justification, whether it be others' poverty or gender. She sees Jean Valjean as both her father and mother as well, calling him "father" and imagining him like this:

"When she thought at night before she fell asleep, as she had no very clear idea of being Jean Valjean's daughter, she imagined that her mother's soul had passed into this good man, and had come to dwell near her. When he was sitting down she rested her cheek on his white hair, and silently dropped a tear, while saying to herself, "Perhaps this man is my mother!""

It's especially moving because Valjean sees himself in a similar way, feeling that he is her father because she needed one just as he needed a child, but also "[feeling] pangs like a mother" upon adopting her (LM 2.4.3). Fantine is ever-present in their relationship (and Cosette's dream was both beautiful and sad), but not entirely in an upsetting way. Valjean's feelings are unclear, and Cosette loves her mother, but in a vague way, since she doesn't remember her. But in a spiritual/religious way, Valjean and her mother's spirits have merged to her, preserving what she's heard about her mother's love and combining it with her lived experience of love. It's very sweet, and it makes sense that she would imagine her mother this way after such a religious upbringing.

Unfortunately, the metaphorical prison of the convent and the cage of the grating aren't the only dark shadow in this chapter. The last line is a bit ominous. For context, here it is in English and in French:

"The poor wretch, inundated with an angelic joy, trembled; he assured himself with transport that this would last his whole life; he said to himself that he had not really suffered enough to deserve such radiant happiness, and he thanked God in the depths of his soul for having allowed him—the wretched—to be thus loved by this innocent being."

"Le pauvre homme tressaillait inondé d'une joie angélique; il s'affirmait avec transport que cela durerait toute la vie; il se disait qu'il n'avait vraiment pas assez souffert pour mériter un si radieux bonheur, et il remerciait Dieu, dans les profondeurs de son âme, d'avoir permis qu'il fût ainsi aimé, lui misérable, par cet être innocent."

Jean Valjean is still a "misérable," and he defines his worth through suffering. He's happy with Cosette, which is wonderful! But he also thinks he doesn't deserve her, even if she clearly thinks otherwise. His joy, then, is in constant tension with his status as a misérable, and while Cosette tries to help - she's making him live decently! - she also doesn't know why he has this mindset. Jean Valjean has love, but he still carries the logic of the prison system with him, and by that logic, he will never "deserve" happiness.

#les mis letters #lm 4.3.4 #cosette #jean valjean #I just want them to stay happy and accept that they're happy #but Jean Valjean's lack of self-worth is ever-present :(#I love Cosette so much though #she's so funny as a child and she loves her father so much

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nicolesainz · 1 year

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Message In A Bottle (BC 21)

Ben Chilwell x reader

Warnings: fluff, in its extreme version

Summary: She’s feeling like a face in the crowd. But she’s reaching for him, terrified

“If he scores, you go down an kiss him!” Mason told me watching his team play against Arsenal at their home Stadium.

“No way! Can’t do that” I shook my head disapprovingly to his request or more appropriately, demand.

“But why? It will be the perfect moment. It’s now or never” he’s nudging me playfully

“Don’t do this to me Mase. You know I’m too scared. Plus, what if he gets mad and pushes me away in front of a thousand people?”

"Have I ever let you down?" the Chelsea midfielder raised his eyebrows at me

Its true. Whatever Mason says, happens. But what if this time things changed? What if Ben prefers only my friendship, rather than something more. I would hate myself if our relationship and what we've built all those years broke down, because of my pure stupidity.

"It's different this time. Things don't always go as planned. If I do it and then Ben stops talking to me, it will be my final straw. And I will blame you forever."

"You won't blame me, because nothing bad will happen. Plus, you love me too much to hate me, Y/N. I need you to trust me one last time."

I have always looked up to Ben. I don't often believe that the 'perfect people' exist, but when it comes to him, I fully support that. In all my living years, I have never met a more special man and human besides Chilly.

Since we were little kids, my heart would flutter, every time I was around his presence. I enjoyed being surrounded by him and get to spend time. Even if it was a few minutes.Sadly, during high school I kept some distance. Due to his relationships and football career starting, I didn't want to be a burden. He knew I always rooted for him quietly and was his biggest supporter.

I respected his partners and time away from me, even if that hurt me deeply. Moving on was extremely difficult, but my heart kept saying that I needed to stay. Although what if this time never arrived? What if I kept on loving him until my very last breath?

"You aren't there to see the look on his face when you can't make it to the games. You don't see how happy he is, preparing new celebrations, in case of possible goals, wanting to be dedicated to you?" Mason looks me deeply in the eyes, and I know that the words coming out of his mouth are more than honest.

"They don't mean anything more than pure friendly love. I do believe what you're saying Mase, but I think you've misinterpreted the signs."

"I will let you see for yourself. Just have faith in my words."

Second half is almost done. Ben has assisted in the two goals the blues have scored. It's currently 2-2 and Stamford Bridge is handing by a thin thread. They all crave a final goal against the gunners.

My eyes fall on the clock which says 89. Only one more minute. All are looking between the ball, the clock and the head Chelsea coach. This win is a necessity now.

The ball shockingly falls once more to Ben's feet, immediately running towards the Arsenal net, whilst all the players are chanting him. Nothing is an obstacle. A small scream escapes his mouth as the ball touches the back of the net, escaping Ramsdale's embrace.

"AND THE THREE POINTS ARE AWARED TO THE BLUES OF LONDON, WITH CHILWELL HANDING THE CROWN! WHAT A THRILLING GOAL" the commentators scream out of happiness!

Me and Mason get up to hug each other, still smiling at all the players on the pitch. Mount turns my head to Ben's direction, only to witness my favourite person, looking at me, celebrating by shaping the letter of my first name with his fingers.

I have never felt my smile growing bigger than this. It feels very surreal. What if Mason was right? What if Ben felt the same way towards me too?

"Sophia is going to Kai. I think this is your cue to go to someone that may be waiting for you" Mason winks at me, eyeing at his fellow teammate.

I take a deep breath and run down to the pitch behind Sophia. She was the second person who encouraged me to go and express my feelings to Ben. Before stoping at Kai's direction she turns around and hugs me tightly.

"Everything will be more than great honey! I believe in you! Both of you"

I give her a soft smile and repay the hug. I wave at Kai and give him a thumbs up, as he was also one of today's scorers. He nods playfully as he mouth at me

"He is waiting for you"

Nervousness increases and my legs are trembling. I want to run away but at the same time I wanna run towards Ben. My heart takes over and so I run at the direction of my best friend, whose arms are wide open, waiting for me to jump into him.

I climb on his body and wrap myself around him. This hug feels homely and heartwarming. Ben never misses to make me happy. The happiest woman on earth. I wouldn't change his embrace for anything in the world. Nothing and no one can ever change how I feel about Ben. Like I said, he is the perfect man.

"My favourite goalscorer back on the sheet! I am immensely proud of you" I whisper in his ear.

My legs are still around his wait. He refuses to let me go. And I don't want him to either.

"It means the world to me that you came and saw this goal. Because it's for you" his sparkly green eyes are smiling at me, as his lips are too.

"Ben" is all I manage to say before words stop coming out of my mouth. I can hear my heart thumping so loud, it would surely come out of my chest any time soon.

I waste little time and pull his lower my face closer to his, connecting our lips into a kiss, in which I express every single feeling I have towards Ben. Love, adoration, admiration.

He seems taken aback at first but doesn't shy out and kisses me back, without tearing us apart a single second. I will say that I was surprised but surely extremely thankful.

"I think this kiss was a greater gift than my goal. Another dream that came true today"

I smile flatly, caressing his reddened cheeks and slightly sweaty messy hair. No matter how Ben looked or was, I only cared about the man which was hiding inside him. The kid I grew up with and fell for.

"I love you to the moon and back and to Saturn and Venus and the whole galaxy." the words escaping his lips were few I was dying to hear my entire life. And it was like I died and came back to life.

"You just granted my biggest Benjamin. I love you for infinity. Whether you score goals or not. Thank you"

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell fluff #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea

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matcha-green-bear · 1 year

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✩pt.1: I told the moon about you

✩ paring: celestial!Seonghwa x f!reader

✩ genre: Hwa moon au, fluff, romance, strangers to lovers

✩ summery: At the end of the day, all she has is books, music, and her letters to the moon. Someday someone will bring the moon down for her in the shape of their love. . . .who knew it would've been the moon himself.

✩ warnings: cheesy romance, suggestive, mentions of loss (mc lost a family member and talks about it), sad themes, Seonghwa flirting👀😂, very cheesy flirting🤭

✩ wordcount: 835

✩ taglist: @justaaveragereader , @marievllr-abg , @owlmylove , @hwaightme , @layzfeelit , @bae4choi, @jackinmyarea

✩ a/n: Taglist is open! Just shoot me an ask!💚 This chapter was cute!! akjnrgk especially when mc and Hwa meet🥹 Man they were so cute😭🤭 Had me giggling while I was writing it!! Ooh also did you know that it takes 27 days, 7 hours, and 43 minutes for our Moon to complete one full orbit around Earth!

"You know if you do this, you'll never be able to return, right?" He looked into his friend's eyes worryingly, "Yes, I'm fully aware of the consequences, but that's why I'm appointing you to take over. Joong, I've never felt this strongly in my entire existence. She speaks to me like I am who I am, not the big space rock everyone sees in the sky. I know she doesn't know, but this yearning feeling will never go away and continues to pull at my heart. Even if all we become are acquaintances, being so close will be enough for me." Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa. He didn't understand what Hwa felt, but what he does know is that he has never seen Seonghwa, so passion filled. Hwa truly fell in love with a silly human who talks to the moon, not even one of those humans that other humans deem 'important.' Deep down, he knew this would ultimately make Hwa happy. "Seonghwa I'll grant you your wish but grant me mine and just visit for each night till the next full moon and when seeing or meeting her in person, you still feel the feeling you say, and they do not diminish even a little! Then and only then will I give you a human life." Seonghwa was so happy he could barely contain his excitement, but before he could do anything, it was like Hongjoong read his mind. "Eh, don't even think about thanking me. Please, let's just see how the visits go, Hwa."

You sat on your windowsill, window open, letting the crisp autumn air engulf you, bringing you at ease. You sighed, looking at the moon. "You know I miss her and her warmth, her presence, her fragrance when enveloped by absence, I miss her. Today, I miss her just like I did yesterday, and I will miss her tomorrow just the same. She loved you as much as I do, you know. She taught me all about your phases and the constellations." "She sounds truly wonderful." Taken aback by the sudden voice you look down to see a man standing in the moonlight, he was ethereal, blonde hair moving with the light breeze. A stranger, yes, but you felt at ease being higher up and basically in your home. "She was more than wonderful. She was so much more." You weren't even looking at the man anymore as you spoke. The night sky had your full attention.

"Do you talk to him often?" Confused by his question, you looked down at him. He seemed you find your confused state amusing. The man chuckled and looked up at the sky, looking at the moon. "You know the saying, 'the man in the moon' that's what I meant by him." He was amusing to you as well. His silly quip had you smiling down at him. “Funny enough, and you'll probably find this strange, but I do talk to him often, every night, really. Helps me when I'm feeling down." Oddly what you said brought a smile to his face. "I find that endearing really, it's like the moon is a comfort for you and you confide in the moon with your troubles, right?" Laughing, you replied through giggles. “Now you sound like a therapist trying to chip at my walls to make me talk and open up about said troubles!" His face turned serious, and he looked into your eyes "Mmm I'm not here to break down your walls, I'm here to turn them into something beautiful that you are proud of, your walls make you, you."

This made you blush hard. Who was this man? "Now I don't think Therapists are supposed to flirt with their patients." "Well thank goodness, I am not your therapist, so therefore flirting with you is allowed as long as you like it." You didn't know how to describe it but talking with him hit you with a wave of love so comfortable and deep that you felt like you've already loved this person for thousands of years. "I do like it, well not 'man in the moon', what do I call thee!?" He bowed, going along with your sudden change to Shakespearean language. "Thee fair maiden shall calleth me Seonghwa, what is thy nameth?" Full on holding your stomach from laughing so much, your wipe a tear away. "My good Seonghwa, thee can calleth me y/n!" Seonghwa is also laughing "Well y/n, parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow, I shall seeth thee again." "Adieu! When we do meet again, why, we shall smile!" He walked into the moonlight more, you turned around to get up but when you turned back to watch him go, he was already gone. Tired from the day you closed and locked your window and slipped into bed. Saying one last goodnight before you fell asleep. "I told the moon some more about you, and I met someone too! I love and miss you endlessly, goodnight, Mom."

✩✧✫next➵

✩ a/n: I swear Hwa and mc talking in shakespearean🥺 still makes me smile, like look at them being little goofballs🤭💛 Mmm I wonder what Hongjoong will say🤔 ig we will find out in the next chapter!!!!😘 Also some of mc and Hwa's lines were inspired by two Shakespeare plays, can you name them🤔

@matcha-green-bear / / do not repost or modify

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #ateez park seonghwa #matcha-green-bear #:mswttm #:My Story Written To The Moon

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claudemblems · 1 year

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A Reminder of Home | Scaramouche

Summary: After dozing off on your lap, Scaramouche is met with a song that reminds him of home.

Notes: Includes fem!reader. A little on the angsty side but ends in fluff. Wanderer is referred to as Scaramouche for most of the story until you specifically call him by the name Kazuto (the name I plan to give him).

♩ Land of thunder, land of rain,

The sky is alight with the archon's grace.

In great darkness, I will not be dismayed,

For the light of my heart shall guide my way ♩

What's that sound? Is it a...lullaby?

Scaramouche blinked as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, but his eyes only found a pitch black void. Was he conscious? Was this some sort of self-aware dream? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that despite the absence of light and human presence, he wasn't afraid. If anything, he almost felt at peace.

♩ Through the waters, across the skies,

Thunder peals through the silent night.

The heavenly hosts cast their brilliant shine,

Illuminating my heart and awestruck eyes ♩

Something about this song seemed so...familiar. Was it the tune? The lyrics? No, it was something else entirely. This song, this lullaby, it made him feel.

His chest ached with a deep sense of longing, a yearning for something lost to time. Though he lacked any semblance of a heart, the spot in his chest where it would have been swelled. It was like a glass filled to the brim, threatening to overflow.

And he was about to break.

As the soothing voice continued to sing, Scaramouche felt his eyes begin to droop. Sleeping served no use to a puppet, but the atmosphere was calming and tranquil, a stark contrast to the world he'd traversed all these years.

But as he closed his eyes to fully enjoy the song, he finally realized why this tune was so familiar.

It was an Inazuman lullaby once sung to him by the Raiden Shogun, his mother.

He thought he'd long forgotten his past where he was once her pride and joy, a beautiful creation crafted by her own hands in order to meet a grand destiny. She'd looked upon him with such tenderness in her eyes as a mother would their own flesh and blood. He wasn’t simply a puppet to her, rather, he was her child, her family, her missing piece that Makoto had taken with her when she left this world. He was Kunikuzushi: an extension of the electro archon herself.

Until he wasn't.

Forgetting the fond memories of his mother took many years to do. Despite his deep-rooted resentment, such precious things could not be so easily thrown away. In fact, her presence still often visited him in dreams, a grim reminder of the peaceful life he once lived. One where he felt love in its tangible form. But that was a different time. That Kunikuzushi was a naive little puppet too immersed in playing house, almost believing he was human himself. It took his mother’s sudden betrayal for him to snap out of his elaborate dream. It was only then that he realized that he wasn’t truly a son to the archon—he was a vessel made for her own use, and he’d failed every test she’d placed along his path. She cut off his puppet strings connecting him to her kind, caring hands, sending him plummeting down into a pit of darkness.

It was his first betrayal, and it had left him with a wound so devastating that he feared it could never be healed.

Even so, she’d been the first one to show him true happiness. She’d kept him safe from the dangers of the world, showering him with all the love and care stored up in her broken heart.

How he wished he could feel that affection, just one more time.

“Kazuto? Kazuto, are you okay?”

A voice pulled him from the darkness as Kazuto blinked open his eyes, his vision blurry from…tears?

Your face was above him, hands cradling his head that laid in your lap. Oh, right. She’d wanted me to close my eyes and relax, but I started thinking about some bitter old memories.

Did he simply imagine that beautiful song, too? It seemed so real. So…comforting.

“Were you singing?”

“Yes,” you answered, brushing his tears away with your thumb. “Did you like it? Kazuha taught it to me the last time I went to Inazuma. He said it’s an old lullaby that mothers used to sing to their children.”

Yes, it’s one that my own mother often sang to me, is what he wanted to say, but he knew that if he told you, you would have sputtered out a panicked apology. It was true that even now his chest still ached when thinking back on those times from long ago, but his past was not entirely shaped by sorrow and loss. Those were also some of the happiest times in his life, at least right before his world suddenly turned on its head. He held those few fond memories deep inside of him, saving them for days when he needed that joy the most.

“Ah, I believe I’ve heard it before, though I’d only known the melody and not the lyrics.”

“It’s a beautiful lullaby. I thought you might enjoy it since it reminds you of home, but…oh, it reminds you of home.”

Kazuto took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “It’s okay. I enjoyed it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, mustering a smile for him. “Good. I’m glad.”

As you gently ran your fingers through Kazuto’s hair, his eyelids slowly grew heavy. He wasn’t sure if it was from your loving gesture or just from being in your presence. Being held in your arms like this always managed to melt all his worries, just like bright sunlight beaming onto snow.

For so long, Kazuto had no place to return to. There was no place where he felt welcomed, much less where he felt like he belonged. He was simply existing, traveling from one place to another, desperate to find purpose.

But after meeting you, after journeys made together and long nights spent under the vast expanse of stars, Kazuto could finally say once more, "I’m home.”

That’s all he could ever desire. If you allowed him, he would stay by your side forever, returning all the love and care you had sent his way. It was the least he could do for you. You’d given up a normal life just for the chance to spend your short life with him—to give him all of your all your tears, all of your firsts, all of your happiness, and all of your future.

“Could you sing that lullaby again?” he asked, already nearly asleep just from your mere touch.

“Of course. I’ll sing it for you as many times as you want.”

I thought you might enjoy it since it reminds you of home. Yes, it does. But his home is not in Inazuma. It’s not in a faraway place sheltered from the outside world.

His home, he thinks, a small smile gracing his face, will always be with you.

And he will be your home, until death do you part.

#yes this is a repost for reasons #it's his birthday so I want to keep this up for him #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #scaramouche

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dira333 · 5 months

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Unwavering V - Ibiki x Reader

this is for @snuggleboots

Warnings: Reader is dealing with psychological aspects of her work and she's having trouble with alcoholism. Please do not read if this triggers you.

Masterlist - Part IV

Next chapter will be the finale from Ibiki's point of view!

Meet with the Hokage. Write a report.

Check in on the two low-level thugs Chouza and Inoichi brought in.

Write a report about that interrogation.

Deliver the report to the Hokage and set up a strategy to bring in the bigger fish.

Keep perfectly calm when the Hokage decides that Ibiki should lead the extraction team.

“I could be of help as well.” You offer.

“You’ve just come back from your last mission,” The Sandaime shoots you down, “Besides, word of you might have traveled.”

You have no real reason why Ibiki shouldn’t go on that mission. Or why you should go with him, other than the fact that you don’t want to stay back alone.

If you could at least have a minute alone with him, look into his eyes and see that he’s still thinking the same of you even after a mission like this, it would be okay, but he hadn’t been in the office when you came in and he’s probably going to leave for this mission tonight at the latest.

When Ibiki does come around, you can tell he’s ready to leave.

His face is set in stone as he listens to the reports. You probably know him the best of everyone in this room but even you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Does he want to leave right away? Would he prefer to push the mission back a bit to gather more information?

It’s a risky move but you’ve been after this particular drug cartel for months now and while going in with this little information might leave you with a few less Shinobi on your side, waiting could risk them slipping away yet again.

“I agree.” Ibiki’s voice sounds nothing out of the ordinary. It’s both soothing and unsettling.

“I’d prefer it if we had one Yamanaka on our team, but their presence is a greater risk than benefit in this situation. If we could get Kurenai on our team as well as Kakashi, we could get in and out without much notice. I doubt they’re expecting Genjutsu experts to infiltrate them.”

The Sandaime nods. “That’s an excellent idea. Kakashi isn’t available for a mission, but I’ll leave you with Kurenai and Asuma as well as Shibi. You’re leaving in half an hour.”

You’re dismissed from the Sandaime’s office.

Your thoughts drown in the mumbling around you. Inoichi and Chouza are discussing going out for dinner later. One of the Hokage’s assistants mumbles as he writes down the mission assignments. Even the Hokage is whispering something to himself.

“Y/N.” Ibiki’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Do you have a moment? I have to ask a favor of you.”

“A favor?” Your heart beats rapidly as you stop and walk over to him. You feel Inoichi’s eyes burning into your back but you ignore him.

“I don’t know how long this mission might take, would you be okay with looking after my cat again?”

“Again?” You huff out in mock annoyance. “You should really get someone else to look after her, I’m not your servant.”

“But Neko likes you.” He offers with his usual dry humor. “She never pukes on anyone but you.”

“Pretty sure I’m the only other human she knows besides you.”

He considers that for a moment. “True. I’m not very social, I don’t know if you’re aware of that.”

“No, it’s a real surprise.” You open your eyes wide. “I’m honestly blown away by it.”

“You know where her food is.” He reminds you, the hallway around you now empty. His voice sounds a little softer now, but you might be imagining it. “And where I keep my spare key.”

“Come back safe.” You say and he raises one eyebrow. “I don’t want to keep your cat in case you don’t make it back.”

There’s so much that’s left unsaid. You want to say that you love him and that you worry that his job might break you one day. You want to ask if he’ll always look at you like that, like a riddle that he cannot fully figure out. You want to take his hand and kiss his lips and inhale his scent and remind yourself that while the future is uncertain, this moment is not.

But you’re out in public, the door behind you shut but who knows for how long, and this, this thing between you, is still as fragile as a freshly laid egg.

“Don’t worry,” Ibiki says, “I’ll be back in no time. I can’t let you become Chief of the Interrogation Force before me.”

Ibiki comes back five days later. His arm is in a bandage and his ribs are badly bruised.

He slips under the covers and presses his cold hands against your bare back, laughing when you hiss and swat at him.

“How was it?” He asks. “You didn’t look that good when you came back from your own mission.”

“Shut up.” You growl sleepily as you try to curl around him in a way that won’t hurt his ribs. “I always look good.”

“No, you don’t.” He kisses the crown of your head. “And that’s what I like about you.”

You huff. “It was fine. I hung out with Neko until I couldn’t bear the silence much longer and then I went out with Anko. No alcohol, just mindless shopping. I bought some really nice stuff.”

“Clothes or make-up?” He asks, letting his warmed-up hand travel down your back and up again, a soothing motion that puts a weight on your eyelids.

“Both.” You mumble. “And some cooking stuff. I got this really cute apron-” Your mouth clicks shut as sleep drags you under, safe and comfortable in his arms.

Ibiki’s still there when you wake up, the best thing to wake up to.

Him coming home hasn’t been a product of your imagination but reality.

You decide to let him sleep - you can be nice too - and make breakfast instead.

Neko follows you into the kitchen, mewling loudly in front of her bowl.

When she realizes that you’re preparing her food, she rubs her head against your bare leg, purring loudly.

“You so easy to bribe.” You tell her. “All you need is food and you’d love anyone.”

Neko mewls and you shake your head, pet her back when she digs into her food.

Ibiki finds you in the kitchen ten minutes later, assembling slightly burned pancakes with fresh fruit.

“I made breakfast.” You exclaim proudly. He kisses you, slow and careful, like a morning prayer.

“Move in with me?” He asks when you break apart, your knees a little wobbly and a dazed smile on your face.

“I already live here.” You say, a little confused.

“Permanently. Put your name on the lease and everything.”

“Oh.” You swallow thickly, realizing what that means. “Oh! Ibiki, you don’t have to make this public if you’re not ready yet. We can keep going like this, we’ve done it for months now.”

You barely catch the smirk fluttering over his face before it’s gone. It’s always bad news.

“So you’ve not been squatting at my house because I’m such a good cook but because you’ve had feelings for me all this time?”

“Oh, shut up.” You raise your eyebrows in challenge. “Inoichi and Chouza figured that I must have a boyfriend because I was ‘glowing’ as Chouza put it. All they could talk about the whole mission was how heartbroken you’d be if you found out because you obviously have a crush on me.”

Ibiki’s mouth tightens. “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

“Wait, what?” You still in his arms. “You did have a crush on me?”

“What did you think that was?”

“Mild annoyance? I’ve worn the skimpiest clothes around you, no reaction. But you certainly loved to get a rise out of me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m able to withstand the worst torture, you won’t get a rise out of me with cheap tricks.” His smile grows at your reaction to the pet name. “Even if it’s the sweetest torture. Also, you love the challenge.”

You roll your eyes, still a little flustered. “Why do I feel like I’ve created a monster with this?”

Ino’s staring at Ibiki.

Well, everyone but your sister-in-law is staring at Ibiki. Miwa has always had the best manners in the family after all.

Inoichi has been strangely silent ever since you stepped into the house, Ibiki in tow.

You’d known that he’d invite Shikaku and Chouza the moment you mentioned you’d bring over your boyfriend.

You had even anticipated that they would all bring their children and spouses.

You had not anticipated, however, that they would all stare at Ibiki with varying degrees of dumbfounded surprise, or, in the case of the kids, worry.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, really.” You tell your brother. “You were going on and on about how he’s got a crush on me.”

“I’m not surprised.” Shikamaru declares with the same bored voice he uses to talk about everything but Shogi. “I just don’t get what everyone else is so surprised about.”

He huffs. “What a drag. Chouji, let’s go outside and watch the clouds.”

“You wanna go with the boys?” You ask Ino. She’s wearing a bow in her hair and her favorite dress, a clear sign that she wanted to look extra pretty for meeting your new boyfriend. Even at six years old she knows what that’s all about.

Ino shakes her head, and looks up at you, her small face torn with different emotions. Her eyes flicker to Ibiki and she draws back a little.

“Come.” You hold out your hand. “Show me your room. I haven’t been in there since Monday, I’m sure there’s something new.”

When she takes your hand, you turn to Ibiki with a smile.

“Don’t eat them alive.” You whisper, relish in the smile that flickers over his face. He’s totally enjoying this.

Ino’s still unusually quiet when she points out the new purple flower pot on her window sill.

“What’s your favorite flower?” You ask and she opens up a little, always eager to talk about pretty things.

You take a seat on her unmade bed and she crawls into your lap like she’s four years old again.

“Did Ibiki scare you?” You ask.

She hides her face against your chest.

“I know he’s got a scary face.” You rub a hand over her back. “But he’s one of the nicest men I know.”

“Nicer than Chouza?”

You laugh softly. “Maybe not nicer than Chouza but Chouza is already married.”

“But…” She stops as if realizing that what she wants to say isn’t really what should be said. You nudge her. “Out with it, Princess. You know you can ask me anything.”

“You’re so pretty.” She mumbles. “And he’s not. And I don’t know… I thought…”

“You know what I like most about Ibiki?” You ask Ino, well aware of the shadow hiding behind the door. “That while he sees how pretty I am, it’s not what he likes most about me?”

“But you’re so pretty!”

“I know, right?” You laugh at her exasperation. “But remember how I always tell you that you’re not just pretty but strong, and smart and kind?”

Ino nods, looks up at you now with big, questioning eyes.

“When you get older you realize that beauty isn’t the most important thing. That if people thinking you’re only one thing, it will hurt. You’re more than just one thing and if someone can’t see that, it’s their fault not yours. But when someone sees you for all the things you are, you need to hold them close.”

Ino considers that for a while, lower lip poking out as she thinks.

“What does he like most about you?”

“Ah.” You smile. “You’ll have to ask him that yourself. Don’t look at me like that, he’s not as scary as he looks. Just keep in mind that he’s got a kitten pajama and you’ll be fine.”

When you step out of Ino’s room, Inoichi’s pulling himself out of the shadows. His face is unreadable to anyone who doesn’t know him as well as you.

You press your flat hand against his cheek, let memories float between you and him.

His expression softens until he grabs a hold of your hand and holds it in his.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Can we go downstairs?” Ino asks to your left, clearly annoyed that her father is taking up all your attention now.

“Sure, honey.” Inoichi picks her up with one last look at you. “Are you hungry already?

“Ibiki?” You stop at the door to his office. You’d been in the bedroom, putting away the rest of your clothes, now officially a part of this household.

“Yeah?” He looks up from something on his desk. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I can tell.” You smile. He blinks.

“Why are you standing there?” He asks. “Like you’re afraid to step in here.”

“Oh, it’s just…” You shrug. “It always felt like this was where you went to have time to yourself. And you know I’d never enter your brain without consent so it felt wrong to enter this room.” You’re keeping a smile on your face, but your voice is serious. You’ve learned to be honest around him.

“Oh.” He gets up slowly and takes the few steps to your side, pulls your hand from your side. “Come in.”

And it’s just a room, nothing special about it, but you know what he means.

You lean into him, head heavy on his shoulder as you point at different pictures.

“Tell me about that one.”

“That’s Idate.” His voice is low, carries so much feeling. “My little brother. We took that picture two days after he was born. My dad had already died.”

“How much older are you?”

“Like you and Inoichi. Eleven years apart.”

Your hand curls into his like you curl into him at night. You can tell that the topic is painful to him. You point at a different picture hanging near the window. You’ve never seen this one before, have never stepped in far enough.

“Oh my.. is that?”

“Yeah. That’s Neko as a baby.”

“She was so… small.” Neko mewls from the doorway as if to agree with you.

“Yeah.” Ibiki rests his head on yours, looking up at a younger version of him and his beloved cat. “Found her on the way back from a mission. I told everyone I was going to take her to the shelter but I didn’t. They probably all thought I couldn’t care for an animal.”

“They’re wrong. You’re a great dad… Cat dad. Cat dad, I mean.” You’re flustered about your slip up.

Ibiki grins down at you like he knows. And you’re sure he knows.

“Are you telling me that the great Yamanaka secretly wants to be a mother? After everything you’ve said about the topic so far?”

“I’m allowed to have a secret.” You pout. “Besides, if you paint yourself like you don’t want something no one will pity you if you don’t get it, right?”

Ibiki’s fingers twitch around yours. Right. Of Course.

Ibiki, the man who seemingly does not care, who loves deeply even though he doesn’t let on, should know this the best.

“One at a time.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “First we get you a pet so you can practice not killing them.”

taglist: @snuggleboots @missalienqueen

#my writing #Ibiki x reader #Ibiki morino #ibiki fluff #Ibiki angst #naruto x reader #Naruto fluff #naruto angst #unwavering

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mosquito-queen · 1 year

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merry christmas ya filthy animals :)

“do you need another snack? getting hangry?”

nancy’s teeth felt rotten from the sickly sweet tone. pathetic. her tongue absently pressed under the tips of her fangs as she refused to make eye contact with the insolent brat in the passenger seat. robin was well aware she hadn’t fed properly in six days. which also meant she had been trapped in a small space for six days too long with the monster hunter. she seethed at robin’s goad, and fell right into it: “i’m not a little kid that needs fucking orange slices and a capri sun.”

yikes, yes, she was definitely hangry. robin mocked, “i thought you loved fruit punch?”

this time nancy hit her, and robin startled at the unexpected pun. she relented for a moment, “clever.”

“thank you. unfortunately, i’ll be stuck here for another few days. i take cash or blood as payment for my comedic talents.”

“so you are hungry?” nancy was too distracted with her thirst to hear the way pride bolstered robin’s heartbeat at knowing what nancy needed. the vampire still had her gaze fixed out the windshield, staring into the darkness. robin rolled her eyes and twisted in the seat to drag a backpack over the console and into her lap. she rifled through it, flinging a squishy plastic container at her companion. robin frowned when nancy didn’t even attempt to catch it. her tone was less sarcastic and more neutral when robin said, “i told you to keep them on ice, but no, you said you prefer it room temperature. so drink up, nightmare queen. it’s way less fun when you’re too busy brooding over spoiled blood to fight with me.”

nancy whined. she whined in the way a dog does when it wants the holiday ham, and robin had to do a double take. the vampire still had not turned to look at robin, instead she was blushing from the sudden lack of control and burying her face in her hands. she groaned from the privacy of her fingers: “it isn’t that. i’m hitting the wall, maybe a couple of days left if we’re lucky. it has to be fresh.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh.” she had brought her hands away from her face, but kept the left one near her mouth. she was doing that thing where she worried the knuckle of her thumb between her teeth. robin was watching now, acutely aware of the way the fangs pressed into the porcelain skin. it had started two days ago after nancy finished the blood bag, labeled ‘not ketchup’ in robin’s messy handwriting, with a very un-mannered slurp. her fingers had strayed closer and closer to her pretty little mouth until robin caught her chewing on the bone between her knuckles. it had spiraled quickly, and now when nancy wasn’t talking, she had her hand literally in her mouth.

robin boldly gestured towards this antic now, “is that why you need a room alone with your hand?”

nancy dead-panned, pulled her finger away, and sweetly asked: “would you rather it be you?”

robin’s weak human-self betrayed her with a drop of her stomach. it was a joke, it was a way to get back at robin, to make her stutter, to make her prey. her heart was fluttering noisily and she hated that nancy could hear it, hated that nancy could turn the game in her favor so quickly. the vampire was fully leaned back in the driver’s seat, casually lounging as she turned her head to face robin. she was slouched down enough that she peered up through thick lashes to collect robin’s expression as her prize.

except, her thirst betrayed her. robin had not immediately scoffed at nancy’s imposition, she was definitely unable to now, and the missing refusal allowed the vampire’s mind to stray. nancy looked at robin with the most unrestrained desire, her fang tips slightly visible when her lips parted to scent the air for robin’s blood. robin was finished the moment she risked a glance to nancy’s eyes. they were half-lidded now, dark as shadow, and just as dangerous. she had never been in the spotlight of this kind of need before. it was intoxicating.

nancy broke the spell when she teased again, “would you?”

alarm bells went off in robin’s head. it was just a ploy, just the hunting charms of a hungry vampire. she scrunched her nose in disgust, pulling away from the lure, “i’m not a happy meal.”

nancy flipped her head back in the seat, staring up at the ceiling. robin tried not to look at her throat. she hummed: “i haven’t had a kid in awhile…”

this caught the monster-hunter’s anger. she rocked up in her seat, lunged over the console and pinned nancy under herself. she had a knife switched into her hand, caught under nancy’s jaw, hatred blooming in her eyes. ”say you’re joking.”

the vampire seemed unfazed, not even remotely worried that robin would believe her words so easily. if anything, she relished in the thought that robin thought her capable of such astounding cruelty. instead of hurt, there was a smug edge to her expression. she had that hungry look still. that look that said danger but translated to desire.

“i thought you said no murdering on this stake-out.”

“for you, i’ll make an exception.”

“i’ve been awfully good though, don’t you think?” the silver of the knife burned, but nancy pushed her luck anyways. she loved finding a boundary. she shifted slightly under robin, her leg now pressing in a way that twisted the anger into something else. she purred under the threat of death: “don’t you think i should have a reward?”

robin regretted every choice that had led her to this moment. she could especially maul past-robin for agreeing to a stake-out with a hot, bloodthirsty vampire. she reminded herself for the eighth time this week that the hot part was only from nancy’s vampiric traits. she wasn’t actually attracted to the monster currently trapped under her. oh god, nancy was under her. her reply was distracted, half-assed, “your reward is a tombstone once we catch this guy.”

nancy pushed again, “robin, i’m not going to have access to any of my abilities if i don’t drink soon.” she paused before adding, “yenno, the lack of fresh blood could make me feral.”

“i’d put you down like old yeller.” robin was trying to hold onto the searing anger that pushed her over into nancy’s seat. she was trying desperately to find the hatred that said ‘kill her’ but it was so very hard to pay attention when nancy’s cold hands were toying with her belt loops and her thigh was pressing somewhere it definitely shouldn’t. it was very difficult when she realized she was absently tracing the blunt side of the knife down the vampire’s throat. when she passed over the pulse point, nancy would flinch. she kept doing it.

it was quiet and dark in the car, save for the glint off the knife. in the quiet, robin could barely make out the uneven staccato of nancy’s heart pumping stolen blood. nancy’s hands had now settled on her hips, the cold seeping through her jeans, she flexed her fingers in a test. the knife bit down a little harder and she let out a hiss between her clenched teeth. she kept her hands fixed in place. it sounded much less like a joke when she said: “just one bite.”

robin told herself she nodded because it was the most reasonable thing. she told herself she said yes because she needed nancy in top performance to catch a monster way out of her skill set alone, that it was better her than a stranger in the nearby area, that it would be quicker and she could keep nancy under her watch. robin said, “fine.”, because it was the most reasonable, logical choice. not because there was a weird itch in the back of her brain, or maybe it was in the pit of her stomach, or just between her ribs, that was begging for those fangs to be buried in the crook of her neck. it was definitely because it was the most logical choice.

nancy did something unexpected. she hesitated. all of her confidence melted away as soon as robin gave permission. she was just playing a game, she never thought robin would say yes. she would have let herself reach that breaking point before slipping into the night and eating a deer. she’d make herself giddy with animal blood, puking up her guts within the next day, before disobeying robin’s one real stake-out rule. maybe nancy was being good.

the hunter leaned into the vampire, fixing her fingers over her throat and smirking into nancy’s soft curls, “get over yourself, wheeler. you can’t do anything to me.” robin tightened her grip on nancy’s neck, surprised when the stone yielded, “only what i let you.” the hand with the knife had moved downwards, skipping the silver blade over nancy’s ribs, shielded by a few layers of fabric. the vampire still felt the burn of the metal, just as robin did the cold seeping out from nancy’s bones.

something instinctual squirmed nancy under robin’s hold, something told her to get out but something else firmly said to stay. the conflicting urges quarreled, but a third need won out. her hunger. robin had shifted her posture so her neck was perfectly exposed to nancy, and the vampire tentatively skated the tips of her fangs over the freckle-blurred skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. she hesitated one more time.

“robin, i-“

“be good, nance, and eat me.”

#part 2’s summary is ‘blood guts and love: an ode to robin’s internal organs’#hahaha idk what i’m doing and neither do they #ronance vampire au #heaven sent hell bent au #ronance

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