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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

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purely platonic ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst??, secret crushes, just two idiots who can't read the room of what we call 'feeeelingsss', they friendzone each other without knowing they're friendzoning each other BAHA

word count: 3.8k

It goes without saying that you and Lando are like two peas in a pod; always finding something to do. But when things suddenly shift after the summer break, it leaves you two to settle with the idea of one another with a rather doubtful mind.

req!...got this one a long time ago and the request was kind of confusing?? but i tried to make something out of it hahaha enjoyyy??

“Does this top make my boobs look big?”

Lando’s watercolor eyes quirk up, squint, then shakes his head full of curls. “You don’t have much to worry about.”

You muster a dirty glare before prancing over to the mirror, picking up a tube of gloss, laying it onto your plump lips. When you first started working at McLaren, you never truly thought you would end up here; on holidays with a witty British driver, but your friendship had blossomed rather quickly.

Don’t bother—they taste like absolute rubber.

Looking up to face the mysterious voice, you awkwardly choke, dainty hand dropping the last chocolate wafer.

Have you tried them?

Lando grins widely before reaching out to pick it up and popping it into his mouth. He winks.

Mmm. New recipe or something like that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” you call out, pulling the baby voice he hates with a strong passion. Rolling his eyes, he kicks his feet against the bed frame, twisted like a pretzel. As long as I don’t get a ransom call, then yes. Go. You’re giddy with excitement; pick up your purse, spray some perfume—probably the entire bottle—and finally peck his cheek, to which he grimaces, instantly pulling away.

“Make sure to wake me up once you’re back.”

You do. Patting him, you eagerly bounce up and down against the fluffy mattress. “Brazil was a mistake.” His lashes flutter tiredly, skin slightly pink from rubbing his eyelids. Why? Folding your legs beneath your butt, you huff, tangled hair flying towards him. He can almost smell the sea salt that lingers onto your clothes; the scent of aperol spritz. It makes him wonder how many you’ve taken as he props up against his elbows, dark brows drawn together with attentiveness.

“First of all; I paid for the entire thing.” No, he gasps. You nod, pursing your lips tightly. “I’ve never seen someone so tan turn paper white in a matter of seconds. It was quite fascinating, actually. Sucks,” you ponder, shoulders dropping drastically. “He was stupidly gorgeous, too.”

I hate it when they do that. You laugh, eyes crinkling with true emotions for the first time that night. “He did dance like a pro though, oh God, I could barely keep up.” A lazy arm flies up to massage your neck, wincing as if you’ve just stubbed your toe against a brick wall. “I might have to see a chiro.” Tapping your finger against your chin, you close your eyes. “After all that, he invited me back to his place.”

The Brit sits up straight away; turns on the lamp that sits besides him. “Why are you here then?” he screeches. You curl a brow. The fuck is that supposed to mean? Lando sighs heavily and rubs his temples before flashing you with a pair of judgmental eyes. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Sex, sex, sex. That’s our priority.” The twenty-four year old relaxes against the comfy pillows. “We made a pact.”

“But I just—” You become visibly green, too grossed out with the idea. “He was handsome; a fucking hunk.” The blue eyed boy gags. “Probably had a massive dick.” You’re disgusting! A giggle erupts while you wiggle your way underneath the covers. “But I think I need to form an actual connection with someone in order to actually…yeah. A connection.”

It was about five months ago that you got dumped. Constant travels, not enough quality time. Too much work, not enough fucking. Far too lovey dovey eyes batted towards a certain brunette—that’s where you drew the line. You stood up for yourself; for Lando. It had taken you years to gain his trust and now that you had an unbreakable bond, you weren’t going to let the first insecure man make you feel like shit for it. But he didn’t like it; leaving you to cry on someone else’s shoulder.

For some factor, the Brit felt bad. Perhaps it was his fault—perhaps he did intervene—but he was pissed too. For the way your ex had treated you, for him even considering the twenty-four year old would hit on somebody’s girlfriend. The blue eyed boy knew the difference between flirting and a platonic relationship. Yeah. You were better off.

Brazil was great. Summer break was great. One night stands were great. At least he thought so.

Placing his hands over his broad chest, he releases a breath. “That’s actually pretty cute.” A sudden growl slides up your throat as you kick his shin. He scoots further away. “I only suggested because I thought it’d help…”

“Now you know.” A beat. “I can’t keep up with the Sex God.” Loopy eyes flicker over at him. “I’m talking about you, sex machine. Sex enthusiast. Can’t keep it in his pants— ”

He gruffs. “Understood.” He steals the blanket away as you squeal, hands flying out to tug it back towards your body. “Loud and clear.”

He had a plan to visit as many places as possible, and while that was fun for a while, you reasonably started to miss home. I’m tapping out, you would declare when you got to Bali, enjoying the view with an exhausted state. Last one. But he would somehow, always, convince you. There’d be too much to see; too much to experience. And you would stay.

It’s only up until Australia where you find yourself taking a break. Maybe it was because you were staying at Daniel’s, but you were grateful nonetheless. Days consisted of hikes, rodeos, undercooked steak, wine, and dirt biking. Quite fun—definitely better than being back home feeding your pet fish. Ms. Lockwood has it all taken care of, thank you very much.

“This is nice,” the Australian murmurs as he bites down on a slice of pizza. “I’m glad you guys made a pitstop.”

Wandering eyes roam the open field, dusty boots kicked up against his car. “Us too.”

Lando clicks his tongue knowingly, tilting his head at you as you hush him. For once in his life, he was glad to have someone around. Oftentimes, there’d be moments where people would assume you two were dating—possibly even married—but it was simply an unhinged friendship. Exactly what he was looking for. Thank God all of that is over now.

“How long have you two been together?” Heidi asks sweetly, leaning against her boyfriend. Mid-sip, you spit it all out, red wine painting Lando’s white tee. Bloody hell, he moans, drying his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” you gurgle. “We’re not…” When you gag, the Brit scoffs.

“She’s too immature. You think I would willingly sign up for that?” The couple share a skeptical glance, eyebrows raised to where he hands you a napkin. “Come on, mate, who do you take me for?”

As you both make your way over the house, Daniel and Heidi settle into a deep conversation. There was not a single doubt within them that you two weren’t meant for one another. It made perfect sense—but why were you both so blinded to the idea?

“Hmm,” the blond says. “Two months of traveling together? That just doesn’t happen.” Heidi spins on her heel, facing the Australian. “There’s obviously a connection between them.”

Men like you are the reason I left Finland. Men like you are the reason I left Finland. A sip of water. Men like you are the reason I left Finland—

“What are you even talking about?” Lando groans from his seat. Peeking over at him, you shrug, and continue mumbling. “For the love of God, must you keep repeating yourself? You’re making a simple twenty minute drive seem like four hours—stop it already.”

Coldly glaring at him, you pinch your face like a clam and point a narrow finger at him. “Men like you are the reason I left Finland.”

The Brit lets out a scream and jumps towards you, slapping a large hand over your mouth. You squirm for a good minute before biting down, forcing him to pull away with a sudden hiss. “Rascal.”

The view was breathtaking; the white snow, the green trees, the sunlight beaming from afar. His agenda continued and you kept tagging along. You’ve never visited, so everything was a pleasing journey. Staring out the foggy window of the van, you pout, pondering. “You’ve seriously never watched Confessions of a Shopaholic?”

“A Cock-A-Who?”

You laugh. “Not even close. I’m not doing this again.”

You’re sure you get frostbite by the end of the day, but the Northern Lights make up for it. After snapping a couple thousand pictures, you finally settle down on the snow next to him. “Hey.” A white puff exits his mouth, chapped lips.

“Hey.”

The silence prolongs, then you let out a sore cough, taking a sip of hot chocolate. You can’t help but roll your eyes when you barely get a sip, realizing he has finished it all while you were busy not looking. “Out of all the places we’ve been to, this has to be my favorite.” You direct your attention over to him. “Thank you for bringing me along. It means a lot.”

“Ah. Don’t mention it.”

You hum. “I never get bored of you.” You can hear his snowsuit scratch as he shifts to face you; wide eyes admiring the colorful lights. “I keep thinking I might—even just a little bit—but I don’t. It’s weird.”

He chuckles, relaxing. “I’m glad you haven’t. We’ve been traveling for a while now, so if that were the case, then I’d be worried.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a sheepish grin. “You’re like…the Suze to my Rebecca.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Finally, you turn to him, taking in his puppy lost state. Specks of snowflakes cling onto his long lashes, the bridge of his nose is beet red, a hint of dried blood coats his overly frozen lips. Patting his shoulder, you let out a light whistle.

“Let’s just say; I never want to leave Finland.”

The season picks up once again, and so do the travels. But they’re not the same. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it’s not only you two anymore. Sure, you have your friends, but…it’s not the same. The thought alone is confusing, but you don’t let yourself think about it too long. Running after Oscar, you hand him a black binder. “What's this?”

“Not sure. Zak just wants you to read over it before the meeting.”

Frantically, he skims the white pages, flipping eagerly. You giggle. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not!” The Australian barely has a chance to protest before you skip away, shooting a quick thumbs up. “Take notes!”

Reaching the familiar dressing room, you find yourself gently knocking, foot tapping against the tiles. He swings open with a loopy grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A beat. “Meeting in ten minutes; don’t be late.”

He nods. “Is there anything I should go over?”

You shake your head, extending a singular piece of paper towards the British driver. “As long as you go over these notes, then you’ll do just fine.” You take a step back. “Ten, Lando, ten.”

“Got it.”

You’re the last one entering the crowded conference room, teasing snickers spilling from McLaren colleagues. Zak claps loudly. “Great! Let’s get started.”

You’re bored halfway through, zoned out, doodling onto your notebook. You were aware of everything, so you suppose it didn’t really matter. Gray led slides coolly. A sharp sound rips you away from your daydreaming as you look up, eyes flickering between the three main men.

“I wasn’t aware there was any special treatment.” His accent is laced with humor, brown eyes drifting over to you. You curl a brow at Oscar.

Zak chuckles. “I wasn’t either.”

Once the meeting is adjourned, Lando strolls over to where you sprawl onto a row of chairs, blanked out. He swallows a chuckle down. “You alright?”

“What have I done?” You sit up, maniatic eyes dancing across his figure. “I’ve never done that before—not intentionally.”

The Brit closes an eye teasingly before releasing. “The notes?”

Leaping up, you march over to him. “Yes, the notes! Since when do I sum up things for your benefit? God, I didn’t even think about Oscar…”

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking straight. We all know you like to help both of us out.”

A queasy feeling flips inside of you as you tilt your head. He was right. You got caught up, made one set of bullet points, and coincidentally gave it to Lando. No further meaning.

“I need coffee.”

As soon as you bolted out of McLaren Hospitality, Lando made his way through the paddock. “Norris,” a deep voice calls out. Alex grins widely, jogging closer.

“Done for the day?”

Alex nods. “What about you?”

“I think so. Had my last meeting; I think I should be good.”

The Williams drivers shimmies with a low chuckle. “Why are you still here then?”

The Brit freezes. “I actually don’t know…” Huh, Alex hums.

“You’re looking for someone?”

He unfreezes, chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, hey, watch out.”

“Daniel!” you shriek. He lets out a toothy smile, extending his arm out as a silent greeting, cup of coffee in hand. You rip it away, taking a large chug. “Thank you—gotta to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, stopping you from slipping away. “Are you okay? You look a bit…” He motions a crazy sign. You glare back at him.

“I need air, I need air,” you gasp, zigzagging past him. Running after you, he hauls you into the nearest restroom. You screech, panicking. “Air, Daniel, air.”

“What happened?”

Something in his voice tells you he knows. You don’t want him to know. How could anyone know what you don’t even know? No one can know.

“You’re right—I’m losing my mind.” You step out of his embrace. “Let me out before I kill you.”

Brown eyes stare back in amusement. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’ll scream, Daniel.”

“Be honest with yourself.”

“I’m a black belt. My limits are endless.”

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

You close your eyes, groan, and kick the wall. “Shit, I like Lando.”

Heavy pants, desperate huffs. Anticipating eyes, nervous fiddling with your hair. His lack of response makes it all worse.

Daniel clicks his tongue. “I knew it.”

“Want anything?” he asks, gazing up at the wall of foreign treats. Singapore knew what they were doing. Your voice catches, releases, then wave him off. Weird, he thinks to himself, but continues to pay for his own sweets. The way you prance around the small convenient store makes him smile, occasionally making sure you were still there.

“I won’t be going to the next race. Thought you should know.”

It obviously catches him off guard as he spins to face you with a neutral expression. He’s good at hiding things—feelings.

“I…um…” He coughs. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s my nana’s birthday.” A beat. “She only has so many left, dude.”

The Brit would love to relax and laugh at your dark humor, but one simple word makes him deflate, nodding along with a sheepish look. He hands you a bag of penguin gummies. “From me, to her.”

The colorful bag crunches against your touch, awkwardly beaming at it, then looking up into his soft stare. “She has diabetes, but thanks.”

He realizes just how much he misses you once you jump onto a plane back home. He had been kind enough to offer to drive you to the airport, and you had been rude enough to decline. A weak exchange of words ensued between you two before reluctantly coming to an agreement.

Here is fine!

Blue eyes wander the busy drop off zone; humming with concern.

Let me help you with your bags, then.

No! Drive safe, Lando. Oh—and make sure to take your vitamins!

The British driver wonders why he feels different; pacing the room back and forth. Vitamin C is important. He eyes his watch. That’s probably why—he forgot to take them. Or maybe it was his biotin.

“Mate! You have my charger!” The twenty-four year old gazes at his taking door and makes his way over. Daniel stands with loopy eyes, half shaved mustache. “Bon Iver died mid-For Emma, so you better hurry and give it to me.”

“I have it right here, chill.” The Australian invited himself in, brown orbs flickering carefully through the dark room. He chuckles.

“Can’t find your birth control?”

Lando cocks his head to the side, recognizing his mess that lies on the floor. The orange bottles make him stutter, briskly pushing the white charger towards his friend. “B6, I’m looking for my—” A nervous hand runs through his messy hair. “Got what you need? Great. Off you go.”

“Ah, ah—hold on a second; is that my girl, Isla Fisher?”

The Brit cackles, remembering about his open computer. “How do you know?”

Daniel plops down. “Confessions of a Shopaholic? Classic. Heidi loves it.”

The brunette hums, finding a spot next to the Aussie. “Who’s Suze?”

“Have you not been paying attention?”

“I’ve been looking for my calcium!”

The thirty-four year old pouts. “I thought it was your R2-D2?”

“Clever.”

A Tim Burton looking girl comes on-screen, perfect bangs hanging just above her brows. The redhead and black haired duo exchange a small phone back and forth, panic evident. “That’s Suze. She’s Becky’s best friend. They go through a bit of a rough patch, but they come back together, don’t worry.”

“Suze? Rebe…” He pales. “Friends?”

“You thought they were lesbos?”

Lando shakes his head, harshly. “What about Finland?”

“A fantasy land, sort of.” Daniel props up against his elbows. “It’s her getaway from all her debt. It’s real, but it’s not real.” The blue eyed boy’ shoulders droop furthermore as he watches the scene play out.

“Friends…”

Chomping down on a mysterious pill, Daniel shrugs. “Mhm. Just friends.”

It’s safe to say that you’re refreshed. You thought things through—you could never speak about your sudden realization. This probably happens all the time, all around the world; nothing to see here. Your feelings were there, but they wouldn’t be your downfall. Not when he mattered this much to you.

“Read over this. Pay close attention to three and seven—Zak is going to ask you about it.” Lando hums slowly, eyes tracing your beauty. You’re a shade darker due to your small vacation, if you can call it that, and that somehow tugs at his heart. If he pays close enough attention, then he could point out a few new freckles. “Any questions?”

He blinks. “Zero. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Something has shifted inside of him; something…new? Every chance he gets, he would peek and admire the way you laugh with a couple of the engineers, with Zak. Then, he would have to pinch and remind himself that he was your friend; nothing more, nothing less.

“Any additional notes? Oscar? Lando?”

Raising your hand timidly, you beam. “If I could suggest one thing, maybe we can keep the floor the same? I know we spoke on how a drastic change can possibly lengthen our kph, but if we actually think about it, then we would be able to see that it’ll only worsen things. It’s perfect, really, where it’s at. What we should be focusing on instead are other areas. Find ways to lighten the car, mark our attention to the aerodynamics.” Red creeps carefully onto your cheeks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you shrug. “Just a…thought.”

Zak hums, crossing his arms in deep thought. “We could do that…we could definitely do that.” He grins. “Boys?”

“Anything to make us faster, count me in,” Oscar agrees, voice steady.

“We should change it.”

Everyone turns to face the twenty-four year old. Pens glide faster, keys click harder, and you stumble clumsily. “Sorry?”

Lando tsks. “I like what you were saying, but we need to change it in order to stand a chance against the Red Bulls. They’ve cracked the code; and we’re so close. We need to adapt.”

You burn up. “I’m sorry, but I disagree, Lando. Things should stay the same. Same is safe. Change is…” You lick your lips, biting down momentarily. “Not necessary. Not when things are already good where they’re at.”

The British driver hisses. Oscar jumps at the cold sound. “Safe is a pussy move. How will you ever know what could have happened? One thing can flip everything around.” His eyes soften. “A-and put us in front of the grid for good. Good, good.”

Caught in the flame, you grit your teeth together; who were you to have a say after all? Your attention circles the quiet room before nodding stiffly. “Alrighty then.”

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Lando frantically chases after you, shoes squeaking with every drastic turn. “I was just being honest!”

The sudden speed you turn back to face him with makes him flinch, forced to come to a halt. He can practically see the fumes exiting your body. “But did you have to say it in that tone?”

“What tone? I didn’t have a tone.”

“Yes! Yes, you did!” You continue your march. “Oh, hi! I’m Lando Norris, professional Formula One driver, who knows everything you don’t.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. You sound worse.” A huff. “Listen, I’m not actually mad, but I do need time to myself, so can you please…” You motion him away and he scoffs. Are you being serious right now? “I am! Leave!”

He sort of replicates a zombie, the way he drags his feet back to hospitality. Was he really ready for any of this? He liked you, a lot, but things like these would eventually stir up in any relationship, and maybe he didn’t have the strength in him to fix things yet. But if you stayed friends, then…yeah. Things would stubbornly fix themselves.

You, on the other hand, have a sudden bounce in your step. A stride. This is what you needed. Suddenly, your stupid little crush wasn’t as important as you had imagined. Fights would bubble between you two if you ever dared cross the invisible line, and you weren’t the biggest fan in facing them. Friends. That’s all this was.

Daniel crosses Lando first, intrigued by his dead-like state. “What’s up with you now?”

The Brit blinks. “I’m no Luke, Danny.” He kicks a rock. “I’m fine, however, being a Suze.”

Son of a bitch, the Australian thinks as he watches his friends stroll away. He actually paid attention.

Placing his headphones back onto his head, he continues his walk down the paddock, confused. When you make your way with a bright smile, he, too, reciprocates. Your lips move fast, hand gestures flying theatrically, and he can’t hear a single thing. The Alpha Tauri driver snakes his hand to slip them off once again. “Having a g’day?”

“Best,” you beam. “Connection lost.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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eggsmuses-a · 2 years

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googy cracked: 8 for the munday questions!

weirdly specific munday questions / accepting

8. What's a small annoyance/squick you have about writing?

There's not a lot of things that annoy me with writing or writing with others BUT there are a couple i can think of

When someone reuses their muses name constantly without using pronouns or a title to spice things up ,, like "Bunglo Scrunglo was a bungilo tungilo. Bunglo Scrunglo peered over the rock, knowing what they thought of Bunglo Scrunglo, the urge to run overtakes Bunglo."

ITS NOT THAT BAD AND A PRETTY COMMON MISTAKE BUT we were taught to not restate their name too often because it becomes stale and can ruin the flow of your story, but theres ways to get around that rule and have it still work

if a story isnt able to consistently solidify a point of view and let the reader know who we're seeing the plot from ?? i hate that. i havent seen anyone do it in the rpc yet tho, im just angry about how Lord of the Flies is written because i have to read it in class

a more personal one is the fact i can go from descriptive writing thats expected of my assignments etc to flat wording, or weak similes/metaphors that dont work ,,,, its like my brain completely shuts off when im on tumblr

#anon #( out of eggs ) -- ooc #( eggs benedict ) -- ask #/im pretty lax tho and dont mind mistakes unless its absolutely unreadable #/this is just small things that can make me grumpy specifically in actual books #/BUT LORD OF THE FLIES IS UNFORGIVABLE I HATE THAT BOOK WITH A BURNING PASSION #/the descriptions are nice. structure is RANCID #/im probably the only one infuriated by the books existence

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livlaughloveluke · 3 months

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𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ! - 𝐥.𝐜 🫧

daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘

summary- luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother

warnings- like two cuss words, feminine reader, one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol), not proofread (yet)

3.3k

You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her.

The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.

Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom.

Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.

During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.

Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.

One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.

"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.

"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.

“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“

“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world.

“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.

“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.

“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”

Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response.

“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.

“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.

As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."

As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.

You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.

“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.

“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet.

“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.

“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.

“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.

“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.

“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.

Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.

“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin.

All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you.

“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.

“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.

He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.

As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.

“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.

“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger.

“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.”

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.

“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.

“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.

“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.

“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”

Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.

“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”

Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to.

“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.

He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.

“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news.

“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.

Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.

After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.

With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you.

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.

“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.

“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.

“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.

“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.

Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.

Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.

Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.

As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.

In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.

Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.

You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.

With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.

She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.

"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.

You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister. She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.

"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.

"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."

"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."

She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.

She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.

Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.

"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."

“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door.

"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.

"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin.

"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."

Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.

Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.

As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.

As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.

Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.

In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.

#luke castellan fluff #luke castellan #liv’s writing !#luke castellan x reader #laufey #aphrodite

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cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months

Text

Masterlist 🦇

These are my red dead fanfiction compiled into one list! Keep in mind some of these are 18+ and contain content some may not want to read. See warnings accordingly.

Will be updated overtime

My College AU

Majors/Student Life

Arthur Morgan

Say Yes To Heaven (18+)

Say Yes To Heaven Part 2 (18+)

Playing Dangerous (18+)

My Love Is Not Mine All Mine (Angst)

My Love Is Not Mine All Mine Part 2 (Angst)

All We Ever Wanted Was Everything (Fluff, Angst)

Somethin' Stupid (Fluff)

The Passion Of Lovers (Fluff, Suggestive)

Cola (18+)

I Love My Boyfriend (18+)

Shy!Reader HC (Fluff/18+)

Toxic Traits HC

Not Allowed (18+)

Favorite Body Part (18+)

Genius Of Love (Fluff)

More Shy!Reader HC (Fluff/18+)

Falling In Love HC (Fluff)

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

HC For Being Told S/O Was Killed By O'Driscoll (Angst/Comfort)

NSFW HC (18+)

Love/Hate (Angst/Gore/Comfort)

John Marston

Ameliorate (18+)

I Love My Boyfriend (18+)

Shy!Reader HC (Fluff/18+)

Toxic Traits HC

Favorite Body Part (18+)

More Shy!Reader HC (Fluff/18+)

Nobody (Fluff)

MX (18+)

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

Taking What's Not Yours (18+/Dead Dove Do Not Eat)

Charles Smith

Flint and Cedar (Fluff)

Closer (18+)

Lovers Rock (Fluff)

Shy!Reader HC (Fluff/18+)

To The End (Fluff)

Toxic Traits HC

Million Dollar Man (Fluff/Angst)

Intimacy HC (Fluff)

Favorite Body Part (18+)

Genius Of Love (Fluff)

HC For Reader In Past Abusive Relationship (Fluff/Comfort)

More Shy!Reader HC (Fluff/18+)

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

General/Relationship HC (Fluff)

HC For Artist S/O (Fluff)

Kieran Duffy

Saint Denis (Fluff)

Heaven Is A Bedroom (18+)

Bounce (18+)

Toxic Traits HC

Favorite Body Part (18+)

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

Hc For Being Told Their S/O Was KIlled By An O'Driscoll (Angst/Comfort)

Kinks HC (18+)

Javier Escuella

Tu Mi Adoración (Fluff)

Toxic Traits HC

Let's Go To Bed (18+)

Intimacy HC (Fluff)

Favorite Body Part (18+)

General HC

HC For Reader In Past Abusive Relationship (Fluff/Comfort)

General HC

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

Deathwish (Angst/Gore)

Kinks HC (18+)

Eagle Flies

Why Do I Cry (18+)

Every Man Gets His Wish (18+)

Toxic Traits HC

More toxic traits HC

Shy!Reader HC (Fluff)

Favorite Body Part (18+)

Kinks HC (18+)

MORE Kinks HC (18+)

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

Music HC

Short S/O Hc (Fluff)

Dutch Van Der Linde

Toxic Traits HC

Favorite Body Part (18+)

Pregnancy HC

HC For Being Told Their S/O Was Killed By An O'Driscoll (Angst/Comfort)

Hosea Matthews

HC For Being Told Their S/O Was Killed By An O'Driscoll (Angst/Comfort)

Kinks HC (18+)

Sean Macguire

Toxic Traits HC

Favorite Body Part (18+)

General HC (Fluff)

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

Kinks HC (18+)

Micah Bell

Toxic Traits HC

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

HC For Being Told Their S/O Was Killed By An O'Driscoll (Angst/Comfort)

Kinks HC (18+)

Lenny Summers

Pregnancy HC (Fluff)

Kinks HC (18+)

Mary Beth Gaskill

Relationship/Sex HC (18+)

Tilly Jackson

Realtionship/Sex HC (18+)

Karen Jones

Relationship/Sex HC (18+)

Molly O'Shea

Relationship/Sex HC (18+)

Susan Grimshaw

Relationship/Sex HC (18+)

Abigail Roberts

Relationship/Sex HC (18+)

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l0ve-bug-m1les · 11 months

Note

hii I was wondering if you could write a

miles morales x male! reader

where the two kiss because they’re curious about their sexuality and that leads to them finding out they aren’t exactly as straight as they initially thought

Ahhhh this is such a good idea!!! Thank you so much!!

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

The Answer Sitting in Front of Me

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: All questions have an answer to find. You just didn’t think you’d find yours in your best friends lips…

Warnings: No actual warnings, just two teenagers figuring themselves out!

It’s the final class of the day, and you’re struggling to stay awake. This isn’t like you, considering the fact you normally go to bed at a decent time so at the end of the day, you’re pretty awake. But today was different. Or rather, last night was different. Recently, you’ve been having…doubts about yourself. Specifically your sexuality. So to—hopefully—get your answer, you spent all night on Google searching up different tests, articles, and videos to answer your burning question. But alas, flashy Buzzfeed quizzes aren’t the remedy you hoped for. So now you’re just here. Tired, ready to get back to the dorms, and still unsure.

A crumpled up piece of paper lands onto your desk. You know exactly who it’s from as you open the note and read it.

"Hey, you don't look so good. Are you alright?”

“Damn, I look so tired you can tell from behind me..” You reply, and ball the note back up as you nonchalantly stretch your arms and drop the note onto his desk. This is how close you and Miles are. It’s easy to tell how the other is feeling just from body language. But at the same time, it wouldn’t take a genius to tell you’re pretty out of it today. You patiently wait for his reply as your teacher drones on and on about something you’ve forgotten about and, frankly, don’t care for. The note returns.

“Yeah. But for real, you’re normally pretty awake when we’re about to leave. What’s wrong?”

You think for a long time. You couldn’t possibly just tell him you’re going through a sexuality crisis! It’d put your relationship in jeopardy! A sigh escapes your lips as you try to think of a bluff, only to scrap the idea knowing Miles would catch it and hound you until you cave in. But what could you possibly say? “Oh, yeah, i think I’m gay and stayed up all night thinking about it. No biggie.” Yeah, right. But at the same time, he opened up to you about him being Spider-Man, so why can’t you just explain your problem to him? “Because he’d hate you.” is the lie your brain is plagued with. You know Miles isn’t homophobic and you know he’d probably just try to help you out. You’ve been through thick and thin with him. He can trust you, and you can trust him.

You realize you’re taking too long when another note flies onto your desk. You don’t read it and just answer the other one: “It’s kinda complicated. Swing by my room when you get a chance, alright?” You toss it back and refocus your attention to the lesson.

It'll be alright.

Right?

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

Time flies and you’re now sitting at your desk in your dorm. Your roommate’s off to who knows where, so you’re by yourself just waiting for that fateful tap on your window from Miles. Normally after school he’ll do some spider stuff before coming back and chilling out for the rest of the day, most of the time with you. That is, unless some guy tries to wreck havoc on Brooklyn, and it’s up to Miles to take them down. As much as it sucks when he has to leave, you admire how dedicated and passionate he is about doing what’s right and protecting what he loves most. You also appreciate how much he’s helped you throughout the school year. High school is no joke, and there have been some times when you felt like all was hopeless. But with Miles there, you came out of those slumps for the better. You also admire the way his eyes shine with that cheeky glow when he says an exceptionally cheesy joke, with that charming smile to go with it. And his kinda cute laugh and—

Oh no.

You groan and lean back in your chair. It’s those thoughts again. The very thoughts that have you so tired and confused. The line between admiration for guys and attraction towards guys has been blurred and now you’re not sure if there even is a difference for you. You close your eyes and continue to think before a shadow blocks out the sun and you hear a knock at the window. “Here we go..” you think to yourself as you unlock the window and open it for Miles.

"How you been?" Miles says as he steps through with that same sweet enthusiasm. He’s not in his Spider-Man suit so you figure all went well. “I’ve just been chilling out,” you say and sit back down, “nothing too exciting.”

He hums in response before taking a seat on your bed. “So what was it you needed to explain that was so complicated? Don’t tell me you’re having an identity crisis!” he jokes. You don’t smile because that’s exactly what it is. He notices the change in your demeanor and grows worried. “Ah..I see,” he looks over you for any hints as to what’s bothering you, “uhm…would you feel comfortable explaining?” he asks.

You take a long moment to think. Is this really a good idea? Should you even tell him? It’s not like you’re confessing to him so bad how could it be? You take a slow, long breath in, and release it just as slow. “I think….i think i like guys…” You finally say. “And i spent all night trying to figure that out, which is why i was so tired in class today.”

Well there it is. It’s out.

You both sat in silence and stared at each other for a long moment. Miles looked like he was in disbelief. Great, you blew it. You go to try and reverse the damage before Miles speaks up.

“Wait, really?! You too?!” He exclaims much to your surprise. You too? Wait so does he…

“You’ve been thinking the same thing?” You ask him.

“Yeah! Like, all the time!”

This is some news. You thought he was gonna try to leave and awkwardly forget about the situation. Never did you consider the possibility of him thinking the same thing. But now what? You know he’s possibly not straight like you, but what are you supposed to do with this information? Honestly you didn’t think you’d make this far. “So,” you speak up, “what now? I mean, we’ve got the same problem. How do we solve it?” A good move on your end. Not too leading, but leading enough to keep the conversation going without you both just changing the subject.

“Uhm…have you ever kissed a girl before?” He asks, his eyes avoiding yours.

“No, why?"

"Well, i was just thinking we could..." he trails off, hoping you get the memo.

"Think we could—“ you’re cut off by the realization hitting you— “Oh…i…get what you’re saying. Kiss and compare how it feels when we kiss a girl, right?”

He sheepishly nods. “Yeah, but neither of us have kissed a girl so it wouldn’t work.” His eyes fall to the floor, and you’re stuck looking at the wall. A kiss? Would that really work? Maybe neither of you need to have kissed a girl—or anyone else for that matter—to see compare how it feels when you kiss a boy. You’re a boy. He’s a boy. Why should you have any prior experience? But is it a good idea? What if you like it, but he doesn’t? There’s only one way to find out..

Forget words. You get up and stand in front of Miles. Your hands find a spot on his face and they stay there as you look deep into his eyes. A question. A silent way of asking for permission when words aren’t good enough. He nods and you lean in, gently bringing his face to yours.

After what feels like an eternity, your lips meet. At first you’re both hesitant, but it’s as if a spark went through you both as you relax and lean in to the kiss. Miles holds your hands on his face and let’s the kiss linger for a moment longer than you both thought it’d last. It’s the sweetest first kiss one could have. The world only starts to spin again when you both pull away, practically breathless.

"Did…did that answer your question?" Miles asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah. Did it answer yours?”

Miles nods and leans in again for another kiss with more confidence. His hands find yours and he brings you down onto the bed to sit beside him, before slowly pulling away again.

“Yeah…” he breathes.

You’re a lot more awake now.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

#miles morales #spider man x reader #miles morales x male reader #male reader #across the spiderverse #fanfic

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peachsukii · 3 months

Text

Bakugo surprises and comforts you while you're grieving. 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 tw/cw: depression, grief, brief talks of death ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — This was completely self indulgent as I was reminiscing on an old relative who passed when I was younger. -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

It had been awhile since you’ve been back to the cemetery. The sky was gloomy, threats of rain hanging in the air as you stood before the grave.

Isn’t it crazy how fast a decade flies by?

You used to visit monthly when you were at UA High, but now that you’ve been out of school for two years, it’s been hard to visit more than a handful of times a year. Normally Izuku would come with you as company and you’d both go get crepes afterward as a pick me up, but his patrol duty as the number eight hero came first. It wasn’t able to be helped, your schedules just never aligned anymore to do the things you used to as best friends. You miss him, but understand he’s got a job to do - just like yourself.

You never really talked much about your relative’s passing and how much it affected you throughout your life. You were too young to understand death back then - the only memory of the funeral in your mind was holding your mom’s hand during the burial. It was raining that day, and coincidentally enough, has rained every time you visit.

Thunder rumbles aggressively through the atmosphere as you’re sitting on the cool cobblestone pathway. That’s your queue to head home before the potential downpour, but today? You don’t budge. Something keeps you here for a bit longer. You close your eyes, taking time to reflect as you hold your hand to the ground. A few drops of rain begin to splash against your cheeks and sprinkle onto your pinned up hair.

A moment or two later, you hear thudding footsteps heading in your direction. It catches your attention and forces you to break your mediative trance.

“Kat?” You ask quietly, confused as you see Katsuki walking toward you. He’s got an umbrella in one hand and a few roses in the other.

“You’re gonna catch a damn cold if you stay here in the storm,” he says as he approaches you. He notices your perplexed reaction, assuming you’re surprised to see him here.

“Izuku called me earlier and mentioned he couldn’t make it. I didn’t want ya to be alone.”

Katsuki places the roses on the gravestone, turning to you and offering a hand to help you up. You take his hand, rising to your feet as he shifts beside you, holding the umbrella to shield you both from the oncoming storm.

“That’s sweet of you. I can pay you back for the flowers -”

“Fuck no, they’re a gift, idiot.”

“Thanks, Katsuki. I appreciate it more than you know.” You smile at him, masking the hurt in your eyes. You didn’t want him to see you upset.

“Don’t mention it. Whenever you’re ready, no rush.”

You know he hates the rain with a passion and he’s never come here with you before. He knew about it, but never pushed you to talk about it with him. The fact he’s standing here with you, in the rain? That spoke volumes.

Katsuki grabs your hand gently, startling you at the sudden touch. His fingers interlace with yours gracefully, palm warming the rest of your chilled hand. It fills you with a sense of comfort that he seemed to know, every time, how to provide for you. No words, just a silent understanding.

The rain begins to pick up into a steady shower as your shoulders deflate, a sigh escaping you.

“Alright, we can go. I don’t wanna keep you out in the rain.”

Katsuki nods, removing his hand from yours and slinging his arm around your shoulder. He tugs you closer to make sure you’re fully covered by the umbrella.

“Which crepe place do y’wanna go to?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction as you two start walking back to the cemetery entrance.

You laugh. “You’re out in the rain and willing to stomach a sugar-packed snack? You must be sick.”

He rolls his eyes and bumps you playfully with his hip. “Makin’ an exception today. Whatever y’want. And don’t even bother fightin’ me over it, I’ll take the money right outta your hand before you can pay.”

“Okay, okay. But you gotta get the same thing I do!” You wink, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Hell no! You always get the sickly sweet shit.”

The two of you walk together to the nearest cafe, in the middle of a downpour, to share some crepes and coffee on this dreary day. You don’t end up leaving for quite some time, catching up over things you’d both missed with one another. It’s like no time had passed at all as you talked for hours.

Katsuki always knew how to make you feel better, he had his own ways to keep your spirits up. Whether it be holding your hand for support or buying you 3 crepes until you’re complaining about feeling sick, he’d do anything to see your smile.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #mha #bnha #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo headcanons #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia headcanons #bakugo comfort #my hero academia #☆.rei writes

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endlessthxxghts · 6 months

Text

Tell Me More

no outbreak!neighbor!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.4k

Summary: Your house is finally empty for the first time in a long time, so you decide to get back in the groove of your witchy practices. Joel stumbles in during your meditation session, and he's intrigued to know more.

Warnings: Religious (Christianity/Catholicism) undertones/religious trauma - brief mention, but does affect reader. Talk of crystals, talk of Tarot cards. Mental health talk, my babies: depression mentions, allusions to wanting to give up in life. EXPLICIT/MATURE CONTENT, 18+ MDNI. Dom/sub dynamics - talks of being collared...getting collared (stfu I’m sobbing)🥲!! These knuckleheads are legit IN LOVE. Age gap. Established relationship. P in V sex. Use of daddy. Allusions to other sexual activity. Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I'm gonna preface this with the fact that this is entirely something I wrote because I was needing comfort. I do witchcraft. I love crystals, I do tarot readings, and all that jazz. Within the last year, I haven’t done much because I’ve been in a living situation in which I have to hide who I truly am. A few nights ago, I got to spend a few hours with someone who partakes in these practices, and I’ve never felt more alive in those two hours than I have in the last year. And I’ve been craving to feel that way again, but again, my living situation prevents me to do so. So, here I am, healing a part of myself through my writing. Even if you guys are unfamiliar in the whole aspect of witchcraft, I hope you guys can enjoy this from the aspect of finding a person who finally accepts you for all that you are. If this isn’t your cup of tea, no hate! Please just scroll away. All my love. Xoxo💚

ONESHOT COLLECTION || MAIN MASTERLIST

Part of What You Need universe! CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE!

You told Joel a few hours ago that when he got off work to just let himself inside because you weren’t sure if you’d be having a nap or not. He knew the garage code and knew where the spare key was, anyway.

So when he was greeted to an empty home at the end of his work day, he didn’t think anything of it. That is, until he entered your room and saw you, legs criss-crossed in the center of your bed, eyes closed, with rocks and playing cards scattered all around your bed, enveloping you in a makeshift circle.

“Uh, baby?” immediately leaves his mouth as he stares, absolutely confused at the situation before him.

Your eyes shoot open, not expecting to be in the presence of another human being right now, and a little squeak escapes you. “Oh! Baby! Almost gave me a heart attack,” you say with a light giggle.

“What are you-” he gestures towards your bed as he walks closer to you, leaning over your bed to give you a chaste kiss, “-up to, darlin’?”

You’re absolutely radiating sunshine right now, and even though his confusion is still getting the best of him, he can’t help but feel giddy in your presence. “Oh, well,” you smile up at him, a hint of shyness in your voice, “I thought I’d take advantage of my family being out on their little vacation, so I wanted to take some time to meditate.”

“Oh, okay,” he offers you a smile back, one like he understands exactly what you’re talking about even though the sentiment doesn’t reach his eyes. Usually you’d be shying away and scrambling to put your stuff away. But this is Joel you’re talking about here, and he just looks utterly confused.

You raise your eyebrows slightly, prompting him to ask his question you know he’s dying to ask.

“And this meditatin’,” he says a little hesitantly, “you do it with, um.. with rocks?”

Your hand flies to your mouth, a slapping sound echoing in the room, in an attempt to stifle your disbelief at his words. “Rocks?” you say perplexed.

His cheeks heat up at your passionate reaction. “I-”

You scooch your bum over, gather everything on your bed and make some room over for Joel. You pat the space next to you, signaling for him to come over. He sits next to you, tucking one leg under him as the other hangs off the bed.

You take his hand and hold it palm up, sliding one of the clusters in his palm. “These, my honey, are crystals,” you pause to think for a second. “Well, okay, yes, they’re rocks, BUT-”

His cheekbones raise in amusement. You’re caressing the crystal in his palm, eyes fixated on it as you speak. You think he’s looking at the crystal, but really he’s watching and loving just how passionate you are about this.

You continue on for a good fifteen minutes or so about what crystals are, what meanings they have, and you also mention what powerful properties they carry—whatever that means, he thinks to himself. In all his years of life, he has never heard of anything like this, nor would he ever get into something like this.

“So, this ro-” you physically cringe at the word. He corrects himself. “This crystal,” he says, “it makes you sleepy?”

He’s trying. And it makes you want to swallow him whole and never let him go. You think for a second, pondering the implications behind the crystals properties of the Amethyst crystal sitting in his palm. Inner peace. Rest. Relaxation. You smile to yourself at how Joel processes the information. Looking up into his eyes for the first time since your little tangent, “Yeah, baby, you’re getting it,” you say with a gentleness in your voice, the brightest of smiles on your face.

Since he’s been with you, he has never seen you interact with any of this stuff before. It must be something you do on the down low, or something you rarely have a chance to indulge in. Whatever the case may be, the genuine light and happiness radiating off of you is addicting, and if it’s because of these things, he’ll gladly learn everything there is to know.

He gently places the Amethyst down beside you, and picks up a light blue one, tower shaped. “This one magic, too?”

Your eyes positively brighten, more than they are now. His heart beats stronger at the sight. You tell him the crystal he’s holding is called Celestite, and it helps with inner peace and is supposed to help guide you to a more divine consciousness when you meditate. He smiles with you, offering the occasional nod and grunt to signify he’s listening to you even though everything coming out of your mouth sounds like a foreign language to him.

After the fifth round of him picking a crystal for you to explain, he opts for the cards sprawled all over your bed. “This… magic involves… card games?” He grimaces as the words leave his mouth, silently cursing himself for the insensitivity of his vocabulary. You stifle a laugh, knowing he didn’t mean it that way though, which is why you can’t help but pull him into a sweet kiss before you go on and explain.

“What was that for?” He asks, cheeks reddened slightly.

“Nothing, baby, I just love you.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl. Now, tell me more about these not playing cards, please.”

Your cheeks hurt from all the smiles he’s been pulling from you. “Mhmm, so these are called tarot cards, my love.”

The next hour is spent with you explaining the cards, what they do, and what kind of things people use them for. Joel seems confused, weirded out, and impressed all in one.

“Ain’t no way this lil thing answers my life questions,” he deadpans.

“Okay, no it doesn’t give definite answers- these aren’t fortune tellers,” you say. He sees the gears turning in your head, trying to find a better way to explain to him. “They give advice or feedback…” you start. “They give guidance for the situation your current self is in. They aren’t meant to be taken like law or religion, but more so like if your friend was a therapist. They can give you advice, but not too much without crossing the patient-therapist threshold. Just tiny nudges in a potentially better direction.”

Now it’s your turn to see the gears turning in his head. His smile slowly spreads the moment it actually clicks for him. “Oh, wait, that actually is makin’ sense to me,” he says a little more excited than usual. He places kisses on your forehead, cheek, and lips, trying to place his excitement somewhere. You laugh in his embrace. You’re beyond excited that the most important person in your life is open to something so unconventional, so taboo.

For years, you’ve had to hide this little part of you for fear of your family shunning you. They’d kick you out without a second thought if they found out about this. They would be unwilling to hear your explanations and would deduce your actions down to the work of the Devil.

They wouldn’t care that immersing yourself in the craft—whether this stuff is actually real or not—is what saved your life, time and time again. They wouldn’t care that when you had the worst depression episode, it was meditating, learning the meanings of different crystals, and connecting with the Earth and the divine that taught you the meaning of life again. None of them would ever be willing enough to even try to understand.

“Thank you,” you say in a mere whisper, eyes glossing over slightly.

He sees your eyes. His hand snakes up to your jaw, bringing your face closer to his, noses ghosting against one another. “For what, darlin’?”

“For trying to understand. For acting like you want to.” Your eyes falter from his. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, trying to spark your attention back up to his gaze. It does.

“No, baby. I want to. No actin’ here.” His lips meet yours, warming you from the inside out.

“You swear?” you ask him as he pulls away.

His eyebrow quirks up at your antics. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout. “Swear?” you repeat.

“On my life,” he says.

You place one more kiss to his lips before you’re pulling away and sliding off the bed. “Come, I’ll cook. You haven’t eaten since this afternoon, huh?”

“Guilty,” he tells you, face warm at how well you know him. “Mhmm. Do you mind just putting the cards back in that box over there for me real quick?”

“Of course, darlin’.”

“Thank you, baby,” and with that, you’re out in the kitchen, whipping up a small meal for the both of you.

As he grabs all the cards, putting them in a stack before he slides them in the box, a singular card jumps out of his hands. He remembers what you said earlier.

The way that I like to do it is by shuffling the deck and letting the card itself jump out at you! There are many ways to do it, but I don’t know. I like the pure chance of doing it that way.

He picks up the card, softly speaking to it. “Jumpin’ out for me?” He has to pull the card to and from his eyes a few times before his vision becomes clear. Love, the card reads. He smiles to himself, his heart giving him all the explanation he needs for the meaning of it. He places the card into his flannel pocket to show you after you dinner.

With both your tummies satiated, you begin to gather the dishes when Joel throws you a stern look. Whether you two are actively in your dynamic or not, you know not to test that look. You settle back down in your seat, hands held up defensively with the smallest of airy giggles.

“Ya know better than that, darlin’, especially if you cooked.”

“I know, I know,” you say to him apologetically. “I’ll take care of it,” he breathes, “but first,” he stands up, leaning over your shoulder so you both can look at the card from a good angle when he pulls it out. “Remember what you were sayin’ earlier ‘bout your cards jumpin’ out at ya and whatnot?”

“Yeeaahh,” you drag out, turning your head and looking up at him curiously.

“Well,” he reaches for the card tucked safely in his pocket. “As I was puttin’ them back in the box, this one just came out at me.” He sets it down softly in front of you.

“Oh?” You’re eager to see which card. Love, your eyes read. Your heart beats five times stronger, and your smile grows ten times cheesier.

“Does it mean anythin’?” He asks. “For our..current situation?” He has a silliness in his voice, but you can tell he’s genuinely curious.

“It means…” you start, your eyes slowly leading back to meet his own. You stare into his eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth, the safety, the love that he always gives you so willingly. A moment extra passes, and you’re still in a trance. He sees your stare fade from adoration into something more deep, needy. His stare changes, too. The pretty brown of his eyes nearly erased with arousal in your sudden change of energy. He quirks his eyebrow, reminding you to speak.

“It means.. Daddy needs to take me to bed,” you say, voice soft and shaky with arousal.

“Is that right?” he asks, his deep voice vibrating you from the outside in.

His mere tone has you slipping already, your voice automatically pushing out a reply, knowing he requires a response after every question. “Y-yes,” you say.

He leans in to give you a slow, heated kiss, his hand finding its way to your jaw. He pulls away, much too soon to your liking, but you don’t protest. “Bed. Now,” he says, standing himself to full height. “Yes, sir,” you say as you shoot up from your seat, making a bee line to your bedroom. “And in position,” he yells to you.

You don’t respond to him then, but that’s okay. He knows his sweet girl heard him; he knows how good of a listener you are. Which is why he refrains from his original idea of teasing you—of clearing the dining table and washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen—before he gives you what you need.

Instead, he only clears the dining table, saving everything else for later and coming to you. He finds you, completely stripped of your clothes, centered at the middle of your bed, sitting on your haunches, palms face up on your thighs, eyes casted downward. Eager yet patient. Aching with need yet satiated knowing that you will be taken care of. His sweet girl. So good.

His shirt is the first to go, left somewhere at the doorway of your room. He’ll grab it later. For now, even though no one else is in this house, he shuts your door, wanting both of you to be completely consumed with one another and nothing else. He pulls the rest of his clothes off as he makes his way to the edge of your bed, leaning over. Your eyes are still downcast until his fingers are on your chin, bringing your attention to him.

He can’t help but melt into a puddle with the way you’re looking at him. It’s almost as if he created the entire Universe for you. “Mi alma (my soul),” he says. “You’re always so good for me. Always.” He brings your lips together in a soft embrace. You chase his touch as best as his grip allows you to when he pulls away.

Even softer than the kiss, he asks “How do you want me?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you respond, “I just need to feel you. Every single part of you, Daddy, I-”

He cuts your babbling off with a kiss, and this time, he doesn’t break it as he pushes you to lay on your back. He doesn’t break it as he lines himself up with you. He doesn’t break it as your legs go to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. He foregos all forms of prep or foreplay, knowing you need him just as desperately as he needs you.

The rest of your guys’ night is filled with exactly this. Feeling—and filling—each other in the deepest ways possible. He makes you cum on his cock several times before he fills you to the brim with his spend, kissing and licking into your mouth, all over your neck, and any other areas he can reach without straying too far from your face. He sees his entire existence in your eyes; he needs to be there as he gives himself to you.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, lowering himself down your body and settling into the space between your thighs. He marvels at what a pretty mess both of you made, your shine all over as his cum begins to leak its way out of you. He leans forward, flat tongue licking up a slow, wet path across your entire sex. He stays there for hours, pulling climax and climax out of you, his belly feeling full at how much he’s taken from you.

Even as you reach the territory of overstimulation, you don’t care. You want more. You need more.

Joel makes his way back up to you, missing the feel of your mouth on his. As he looks up though, he sees tears pooling in your eyes. His hands immediately go to your face, thumbs catching the runaway tear. “Talk to me, baby,” his voice quivers, his feelings heightened at the emotional intensity of the last several hours.

“I-” you choke back a sob. “Please don’t ever leave me, baby. I don’t think-” you take a shaky breath, more tears escaping your eyes. “I can’t live without you, baby, I need you, I love you, please don’t ever leave-”

His lips are back on yours, soft and all-consuming, stealing your anxieties and stowing them far away where they will never poison your mind ever again.

“Never,” he says. “I’m yours, my sweet girl. Always. I’m not goin’ anywhere that’s not with you. I love you more than anythin’ in this fuckin’ world. You’re never gettin’ rid of me, ya hear, mi flor? (my flower),” he says as he gives your head a small shake, making sure his words are etching themselves into every groove of your brain so you never forget it.

It’s been a week since that night you and Joel had your house to yourselves, and he still can’t shake the burst of insecurity that infiltrated your mind. Which is why he finds himself at a local (witch)craft store—way out of his depth but still set on finding the perfect thing to seal his love for you.

You two have discussed the concept of a collar before, and you showed a genuine interest. It was a tangible reminder of who you belonged to, and it definitely made your heart skip a beat. However, you weren’t so attuned to the idea of the actual image of a traditional collar, and neither was Joel. The conversation was cut short because you got pulled into another task that had to be taken care of, and the topic was never brought about again. But Joel thinks about it more often than you think.

In some dynamics, collars are accessories that a Dominant and submissive work their way up to. In a way, the collar symbolized a promise. It symbolized forever. For some, it was their wedding ring equivalent. That was what intrigued Joel so much. So, after last week, the idea has been eating away at him.

And that’s when he saw it. A beautiful necklace, the chain, a mix of green crystals—your favorite color—all various shades, with a beautiful, metal pendant sitting at the heart of the necklace. It was a short chain, slightly longer than how a collar would wrap around your neck, but still mimicked the effect of one. You talk often about how much you love the moon and that night you talked about the amazing energy the moon provides. The pendant was a moon with a star hanging from the top of the moon’s crescent figure. It was perfect. It was you.

He finds the worker and goes through the motions of purchasing the necklace for you. Of course, Joel wanted a tangible thing to symbolize his promise to you, and that’s when another idea struck him. He turned back around into the store.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says. “Ya wouldn’t happen to have any rings, would ya? Preferably one with a moon?”

The lady gives a knowing smile. “Right this way,” she says. She may not understand the dynamic between the two of you, but she definitely can recognize a lovestruck man when she sees one.

He calls you on his way home from the store.

“Hi, mi luna (my moon),” he says. “What are you up to right now?”

“Hi, baby,” you respond giddily, his mere presence, whether on the phone or in person, always makes your mood one hundred times better. Hearing his little nickname for you though throws you off guard, forcing you to ignore his question. “Luna?”

He smiles. “It means moon.”

“No, yeah, I know that, baby,” you softly chuckle, “I meant, what inspired it?”

“No reason,” he says nonchalantly. “Was that okay though?”

“I like anything that comes outta your mouth, baby,” your voice laced with a filth he knows all too well.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his cock from stirring. “Darlin’,” he says, voice strained.

You stifle a laugh, knowing how easy it is to get him going. “Hmmmm?”

“You better choose your next words very wisely, girl.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you offer quickly as you fill his ears with your addicting laughter, “I’m done, I promise.”

He grumbles something incoherent, ever your handsome grump, then reminds you about his question.

“Oh, right, sorry! I just got done cooking lunch for everyone. I’m in my room now, though.”

“Can you come over for a bit?”

“Always. You home now?”

“Just parkin’, baby.”

“On my way, Sir,” you say, holding in another little giggle.

“Fuckin’ trouble,” you hear him say before he ends the call.

You meet him as he gets out his car, him pulling you in for a bruising kiss that immediately has your core pulsing. “Well, hello to you too, cowboy,” you smirk as he pulls away. He smacks your ass as he turns you around and starts guiding you inside, one hand on your hip, the other holding the bag with your new necklace inside.

Not wanting him to let go of you, you spin in his arm and reach for his keys, turning back to unlock his front door.

“So,” he starts as you break away from him, making your way to his couch. He immediately goes to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water, placing it in your hands rather than the table because he knows you probably haven’t had a moment to hydrate yourself, having just finished taking care of your family as he called you.

You drink half the glass gratefully, bringing the rest to his mouth as he sits next to you, knowing he probably hasn’t hydrated himself either. He finishes it then sets the glass down on the coffee table.

“I got you somethin’.” He tries to sound mysterious, but really he’s sounding like an excited schoolboy ready to share his treasure with the class.

“Oh yeah?” you say. “May I ask why? It wasn’t expensive, right?” You soften at your last question.

He knows you get a little apprehensive at the idea of money being spent on you. But he abides by your wishes too much to his liking, so this, he allows himself. “The number don’t matter, baby. Close your eyes and turn around.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you mutter under your breath, adjusting yourself to be between his legs, his one stretched across the couch as the other hangs off the side.

Once you settle in front of him, he leans over to grab the bag from the table and pull the necklace out. “Eyes closed, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“You remember a while back our conversation on collars?”

“Yes?” you say, a questioning inflection present.

“Well…” Joel trails off. Right as you jump to speak at his weird behavior, you feel cold metal grace the skin of your neck. You gasp at the sudden change in temperature, fighting for your life to keep your eyes closed until he tells you to do otherwise.

“I know neither of us wanted the traditional look. Something more sly has always been our style, huh? I hope I chose okay,” he says softly.

“I’m gonna cry, can I please open my eyes now?”

“Yeah, bab- no, actually, wait,” he says, pulling you to stand up, his hands on your hips, guiding you to the mirror in his en suite bathroom. “Okay, yeah. Open.”

The second your eyes open and land onto the ethereal necklace resting on your chest, you can’t help the flood that falls from your eyes. “Joel,” you breathe out. “Baby, oh my god.”

“Is it alright?”

You turn in his arms, your eyes now directly on his instead of through your reflection. “Baby, really? Is it alright? This is the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” your voice cracking through each word.

His cheeks are a little blushed, slightly bashful at your praise. “I just- I wasn’t sure what to choose or what crystal had what magic, but what really sold me was the moon,” he says as his hand comes up to caress the pendant.

You respond to him by pulling him in for a kiss. One in which you hope tells him everything he needs to know about how grateful and how truly, deeply in love with him you are. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he kisses into you, replicating the same feeling back to you. You begin to smile through the kiss as something else clicks for you. You pull away from him.

“Is this why you called me luna earlier?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, baby, I actually really love it,” you smile up at him, butterflies erupting in his belly at the sight. “Coming from only you though.” His hand snakes up to grab your jaw, pulling you into his mouth as he whispers mi luna before crashing himself onto you for another kiss.

You pull away from him, breathless, and turn to face the mirror again. You’re too entranced by the beautiful jewelry to keep your eyes off of it for too long. His hands snake around your waist, and it’s then that you notice it.

You freeze. You grab his left hand, an antique looking moon, identical to the one on your neck, wrapped around his ring finger, staring back at you. Your eyes flick back up to your guys’ reflection, meeting his eyes. “Was waitin’ for you to notice,” he says.

If you thought you were sobbing before, then you’re an absolute wailing mess now, hiccuping like a little child who is yet to learn how to control their emotions. “I love you so fucking much,” you say as best as you can in between each hiccupped breath you take.

He turns you back to face him, cupping your face with both hands, peppering your face with kisses everywhere he can manage. Soft I love you’s leave his mouth in a chant, praying to his one and only Goddess.

He lets you cry it out, he knows you need to. As soon as you're less of a blubbering mess, he’ll remind you that he is forever yours until you choose otherwise. He’ll remind you that although he takes charge ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s because you let him.

He’ll remind you just how much he’s irrevocably in love with you, verbally, physically, and every other way he can. From now until forever.

End Note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc. — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @survivingandenduring @getitoutofmymind @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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kanatamour · 5 months

Text

A MILLION MILES AWAY.

“My soul is always with you.”

ft. Sugasano Allen, Hajun Yeon, Anne Faulkner, Yatonokami Kanata, Yatonokami Nayuta x fem! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, comfort.

Hey, nonnie ! You requested on my previous blog and I’m very sorry this took me forever, I still hope you can enjoy it, hun <3

ଓ SUGASANO ALLEN

— To ever enthusiastic Allen, the fact you have hearing hypersensitivity is so cool.

— To him, it’s almost like a superpower, how you can catch up on the faintest of sounds, even discerning their subtlety in all kinds of songs.

— So, it is not uncommon for him to ask you for advice when he’s composing BAE’s melodies.

— The way you can discern every variation in the symphony and how you always know what’s the best combination for it with the lyrics, never fails to leave your boyfriend speechless.

— In these instances, maroon eyes stare at you, lovestruck, the hue on his cheeks not so different as he gets a little lost in you as you compose.

— However, all gifts came at a price.

— Because your sensitivity to sound happened to be a double edged sword.

— You just couldn’t attend lives.

— You had tried. More than once. And it ended terribly every single one of them.

— The sounds were too loud, and the bright lights didn’t help either with the overstimulation the loud music already caused you.

— No matter how hard you tried to calm down, your breathing became shallow, ragged, as if your lungs were closing in.

— And you hate it. You hate you can’t be there to see your partner on stage from the first row, after how passionate he is with hip-hop, and after all he’s gone through to pursue it.

— But Allen does not only love hip-hop.

— He loves you, above all else.

— And he understands what it’s like to feel like you can’t endure it anymore, like you’re going to suffocate and like everything’s too much.

— His trap reactions are quite bad, after all.

— And he doesn’t want the one he loves so deeply to have to experience something similar to it.

— So he understands and he would never hold it against you.

— Now you wait for him, the covers of his bed snug around you, as you hold your phone screen before you.

— Earphones on, you watch intently, as BAE steps on stage.

— A phoenix flies over the audience, and a wide smile spreads on your face.

— This is the song you composed together, and you know, with it, your lover will shine as bright as his illusion does.

ଓ HAJUN YEON

— You didn’t want him to find out.

— Hajun is perfect, and you’re honored as it is that he wanted you as his girlfriend.

— For you to be this sensitive to sound… You know you’d end up making trouble for him if you went to one of his lives.

— So at first you make excuses.

— You tell him you have appointments or work on the days and time BAE have their lives.

— You feel bad for lying to him like this, but you just don’t know how to tell him.

— What if he thinks you’re stupid? What if he gets tired of you? What if he leaves you and hates you?

— These are the thoughts racing through your muddled mind as you stare at your laptop’s screen, waiting for the site where you watch all of Hajun’s stage concerts to load.

— It is strange, it’s not working… Perhaps the connexion’s just bad?

— While you’re immersed in your own tribulations, you suddenly hear the front door opening, making you jump and stand up straight.

— “Well, well, well, what is my princess doing here? Didn't she have work today?”

— “H-hajun… Didn’t you have a performance now?” You manage, averting your eyes from his vermillion ones. In the mischief shining through his sharp eyes, you know you’ve been set up.

— “I… I’m… I’m sorry…” You finally mumble, head lowered.

— A slender finger hooks under your chin.

— “Don’t look away from me, sweetheart.” He whispers, in the dimly lit space between. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

— And in that moment, you see your own fear reflected in his eyes.

— The fear of abandonment, of being left behind, not loved or needed anymore.

— “I’m very sensitive to sounds, especially loud ones. So coming to see you live is impossible for me. I was scared. I didn’t know how to tell you.” Your voice breaks a little, your vision becoming blurry with tears.

— “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be with someone as weak as me, so I-“

— Your words are cut off the moment your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you.

— “Don’t. Don’t say it. Because that will never happen. You’re not weak, dear. And I’d never ever think of not being with you.” Hajun’s own voice falters, his hold on you tightening. “I knew there was something going on. I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

— After that, you never need to come up with more alibis to justify your absence.

— Your lover gets you the best (and most expensive too, probably) iPad and headset ever, so you can comfortably follow BAE’s lives from home.

— And of course, when he gets back home, he gives you plenty of affection (and teasing too). But that is a story just you and him are privy to, and is reserved for another day.

ଓ ANNE FAULKNER

— Anne is quite emotionally perceptive, so they pick up on the fact that something about physically going to live shows affects you.

— You hadn’t planned on letting them know so soon, but honestly, who can resist Anne’s comforting and kind aura?

— So you explain, how the loud music of the stage feels a hundredfold louder inside your head, to the point where it even… scares you.

— That being the same reason you don’t usually show up at CANDY Club either.

— Your partner understands, hazel eyes taking you in with tenderness.

— They sit next to you on the living room’s couch, arms wrapped around you. The scent of your lover’s perfume was too strong to some, but to you, it’s the known comfort of a hypnotizing field of poppies.

— “[Y/n]”. Anne calls. “What’s worrying you, hun?” Their hands trace soothing patterns along your back, the motions easing the heaviness of your heart, if only a little.

— You let out a sigh, shoulders sagging as you exhale some pressure out of you.

— “I feel bad, Anne… Because, well, you’re such a good partner, but I can never come to your lives or to the club you work at.”

— Their loving gaze is trained on you, head slightly tilted to the side. An invitation to go on. The promise to be by your side, no matter what.

— “My hearing… well, it’s above the usual, so i’m extremely sensitive to sound. For me to be in a space with loud music… It’s practically impossible. That is why I can never be at concerts to cheer you on. But I promise, I follow every single one of them from home, and you’re always stunning when you’re up there, Anne.”

— They smile, knowingly.

— “Why didn’t you say so sooner, baby?” BAE’s fashion icon asks, leaving an outline of vibrant lipstick when they kiss your cheek.

— “Please, never feel guilty or bad because of this. I love you more than anything, and that will never change.” They finish, eyes framed in fuchsia earnest when they meet yours.

— “But aaghh! I missed so many chances to do your makeup and hair! You’re following the lives anyway, no matter if it’s from home, so that calls for a cute outfit and eyeliner to match!

— Airy laughter fills the room. With Anne, there was no way negative emotions could ever get to you.

ଓ YATONOKAMI KANATA

— At first, he’s hurt.

— Why is it that you never come to see him and his brother perform?

— Are you just another rich brat? Are you looking down on them? Do you not support the one thing that sheds a little light in his life?

— And you are hurt too.

— Because you’d want nothing more than to be there, cheering him on, your smile, the first thing he sees when he looks at the audience.

— And then he realizes. It’s not that you don’t want. Rather, that you can’t.

— It only takes a thunderstorm for him to notice.

— You had always been skittish when you spent nights at his apartment and a train passed by, the tracks shaking and rattling.

— But this… You are trembling.

— “Hey, it’s just a storm, we’ll be safe in here.” Kanata tries, watching you bundled beneath the blanket you two shared when you slept with him.

— Your hold on the cloth tightens.

— “I-it’s not that, Kanata… I-it’s so loud, too loud… My head feels like it’ll split…”

— Oh.

— So it’s loud sounds you can’t handle.

— Thinking back on it, it is true you always turned the volume down when you two shared earphones, or asked him to do the same thing every time he showed you a new song.

— So that is why…

— Kanata’s arms wrap around you, pulling you up in a sitting position, nuzzled against his chest.

— The softness and warmth of both the blanket and his embrace engulf you. Like this, the storm feels a little more faraway.

— “I’ll protect you, [Y/n]. This is why you could never make it to our stage performances, isn’t it?” Your boyfriend inquires, his tone soft, uncharacteristically so, barely above a whisper.

— You nod, covering your ears as another thunderbolt besieges the slums.

— “Shhh, it’s all good, I’m here, [Y/n]. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

— “Kanata…” You utter, tone shaky.

— His eyes widen the moment he sees a sheen of starlit tears on your lashline.

— “Oi, what’s wrong??” Your lover asks, clenching his jaw.

— “I’m sorry… You and Nayuta work so hard and I can never see you live… I always, always watch from home, but I’m sorry I’ve hurt you because I can’t really be there…”

— “Silly.” Kanata cuts you off, with a smile that’s a bit sad, but still ethereal. “You don’t have to apologize. I want you to be safe, even if that means you can’t come to stage battles because it’s too noisy in there.”

— He holds you a little tighter, slipping over your ears the headphones he uses when he’s writing songs.

— The storm quiets down, and his arms keep you safe.

ଓ YATONOKAMI NAYUTA

— He thinks it’s cool you have that hearing hypersensitivity.

— For two main reasons: you always seem to pick up on steps approaching whenever bad guys are around; and because, similarly to Allen, he finds it so amazing how you can discern so many different notes in music.

— Also, because whenever you two spend time on the rooftop, Nayuta loves the way you seem to hear the wind, how you say it carries songs, different feelings relied depending on the color of the sky he always loved to look at.

— Even so, he’s not as fond of the sad smile you offer him every time he has a stage battle.

— Because you both know, it’s impossible for you to be able to go.

— But to Nayuta, the effort you make to support Cozmez even when you can’t be present speaks volumes.

— You’ve invested in a phone good enough to be able to reproduce audio and video in high quality, so that, no matter when or where, you can watch and support them from afar.

— Nayuta is very passionate about music, so don’t be surprised if he asks you to be the first one to listen to his and his brother’s music and ask you for your honest opinion.

— Your boyfriend is quite calm and detached, that quality being a point in your favor.

— You smile to yourself, he reminds you a little of a cat sometimes; he takes naps in unlikely places, likes to hang around the quiet of a building that feels closer to the sky than to the grey dull concrete, and has fluffy hair.

— You love running your hands through it when the sounds of daily life overwhelm you, it calms you down.

— In the same way, when the intense cacophony of sounds seems to be at war in your mind, Nayuta’s heartbeat manages to relax you every single time.

— The sky overhead is filled with stars that remind you of the color of his eyes.

— There is no moon on the indigo expanse above, and yet, that’s alright.

— You don’t need it, not when your brightest star holds you so gently.

— Your real star, this time. Every beat of his heart, a reassurance of it.

— The sofa placed on the high building’s rooftop is dusty, but neither of you care.

— You are together in this moment, a sea of constellations singing their silent love song for you.

— The world is at peace, the quiet only wrinkled by your call of his name.

— “Nayuta?” You utter, eyes fluttering open, just him and the stars mirrored in them.

— “Hm?”

— “Thank you.” You smile, one of your hands fleetingly caressing his cheek.

— His answer comes in the form of a smile, the sliver of moon missing from the sky above.

— The world is quiet and you are with him.

— In the starlight, the silence of the hour dances with his heart.

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muzzleroars · 10 months

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REALLY got hit with the line "Now this is a fight worthy of God's Will" and I need to talk about its significance, because it was always interesting to me that it's spoken by Gabriel as the Apostate of Hate. It comes in the second half of the fight in Heresy and while that one is incredibly interesting for the character development it shows in Gabriel, I’ve been thinking more and more about the encounter in Gluttony and just how the two are linked together. I discussed Gabriel’s nature as a warrior in detail here, but in short, he is a being made to fight for God, the battlefield being a holy place for him and where he fully connects to himself as an angel and to God as he fulfills his service to Him. It lights the divine spark within him, it is what causes his passion to burn fully bright and he is completely Gabriel, the Strength of God, in those moments. So where must he be when V1 meets him within Gluttony, what can he be feeling when he has fought thousands upon thousands of machines? There is no honor in these battles, there is no real victory, and Gabriel is growing dull, numb, devoid of any meaning. The machines are beneath him, they offer no challenge and they lack the capacity to recognize him as the angelic warrior that he is. His knightly virtue is smothered, stagnant, his very soul bled dry by mindless engagement after mindless engagement. He is totally disconnected from the self, an angel without their divine purpose and instead acting as a punch clock exterminator.

When V1 arrives, it’s the same despite a flashy entrance – He is more mechanical than his opponent, relying on automatic, rote tactics and repetitive maneuvers. He gets away with it for a bit, so thoughtless that he even pauses in his taunts as his pride dimly flickers to life, V1’s own movements clumsy and poorly timed due to facing an angel for the first time. But V1 is fully engaged, V1 is tuned to every movement that Gabriel makes, the data he nearly hand feeds it – every second its AI is learning, devouring each pattern and quickly mapping out Gabriel’s now own mindless motions. Soon, it’s landing hits, soon he isn’t, soon something starts to feel off. Halfway through the battle, something is wrong. It clicks for Gabriel when he begins to bleed and it seems V1 isn’t harmed. It’s still the same machine? How long had they been fighting? Confusion overwhelms him as he attempts strike after strike and V1 dodges with ease, why can’t he hit it? Why is it still here? The only answer he can flail for is anger, to burst into a rage when the battle refuses to bend to his will, to end. He had gotten sloppy, lazy. Battle, the one thing that connected him directly to God, that was his divine purpose and made him Gabriel, has become so automatic he’s blocking it out. The fire is gone. It enrages him, he flies into a fury at V1, this stupid robot that won’t die and becomes the avatar of his dead passion. A corpse with a pulse, an angel reduced to pantomiming the purpose God gave him against endless mechanical dolls, why, why, what’s happened to him? Nothing is real, he realizes he can’t remember any of the fights he’s had against these machines and his hands have been empty of his true, heaven-forged swords for each one of them. And in his rage, in his furious motions, as he’s consumed with how pointless and ridiculous he looks fighting this minuscule machine, his body falls to the floor, bleeding. His wings support his weight no longer, and every muscle refuses to obey him. He’s lost. Everything is empty, he shouts and throws a fit in utter shock, but has he truly burned down to ash?

And when he returns in Heresy, he is choked with his own anger, his grief, at his failure but too at his total loss of connection to himself, to his God. God, now dead in reality and dead in his own soul. There is nothing left, and so he doesn’t even have a choice in becoming an apostate angel, God is dead and he can no longer even feel him. V1 enters as the avatar of that loss, burns in his mind as a last desperate attempt to claw back the shreds of what’s left of Gabriel and he initially believes he must kill it to do so. To know God’s warrior isn’t fully burned away. But then a change happens again halfway through the battle, that primal spark lights and his wings bloom into brilliant gold and indigo, ecstatic. He is wielding his swords once more, they form into his hands and he is bleeding despite pouring what’s left of his strength and passion into this last battle. V1 meets him, it learns every second and it dances in perfect time with him, a true, real battle, after all the years of the Council bleeding that passion dry. “Now this is a battle worthy of God’s will” he shouts as a man risen from the dead – V1 lights him again as the angel he had forgotten he was even with the light now torn from him, his identity is restored even as he falls and V1 moves him as God once moved him – it changes one last time into the avatar of the God he lost. This is war, this is what he was handmade for...and it has been absent for so long. This machine restores him as Gabriel, returns his love and his passion and his divine ecstasy without the need for anything else – he is Gabriel once again even without God, without his light. It’s thrilling, exhilarating, what else could he do but fall in love when he is given his self back, when he is given the chance to be everything he is without being used by another?

#i am thinking. this is all obvious. AND YET.#i had to write it all out because it means so much for their relationship #to me this is why gabriel falls in love. that he was given himself back fully and without a god #i know how he responds to v1 can be interpreted in many different ways #but this is how i see it and why i just. WHY THEY JUST MAKE ME. UHUH.#gabriel #v1 #gabv1el

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mostlymaudlin · 1 year

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i made a joke on twitter that someone should write a crack fic that opens with Andrew riding the horse in TKM and he’s like “bet you’re wondering how i ended up here.”

and well. then this happened:

You’re probably wondering how I ended up here.

A horseback ride in the Blue Ridge mountains sounds idyllic, if you’re the kind of person that takes vacations straight out of the free tourist brochures at gas stations. I am not that person.

In fact, I had never been on any vacation before this week. If I were to take a vacation of my choosing, I would absolutely not be doing an activity that requires me to activate my core while breathing air that smells like animal shit.

Yet here I am. Sitting on a horse double my height, following a group of people I don’t even particularly like down a stinky, too-green path through the woods.

You might ask, why did you put yourself in this situation? It’s a good question, and I fear I have the worst answer of all:

There’s this guy.

I know, I know, how cliche. If it helps, I am not prone to them: I’m an orphan but not a Chosen One. I’m a college athlete who couldn’t care less about winning. I’m a twin but I’m nothing like my brother.

The boy problems, though? I’ve got ‘em. And oh, do I know how to pick ‘em.

Neil’s horse ambles down the wide path next to mine. The man himself is slumped forward in his saddle, reins held loosely in his bandaged hands. Neil has the misfortune of being very murder-able, so the bandages are a more common part of his whole look than one would hope.

This most recent bout of “almost getting killed” was particularly… vexing. (We don’t need to go into detail. All you need to know is that I didn’t handle it well.) Neil is moving on, though. He’s taking in the scenery, and his expression befits a tourist brochure even if the rest of him screams, “I should probably still be in a hospital.” When he catches me looking his lips curve into a small smile, and Reader, it is imperative that you understand how passionately I hate him.

“This is cool,” Neil says.

“Well, as long as you’re enjoying it,” my cousin grumbles from behind us. Nicky enjoys nature about as much as I do. I shoot him a look, and he mimes zipping his mouth shut.

Neil only shrugs, leaning further against the neck of his horse. I’m not sure how he’s awake. In the last four nights, he’s slept in a hospital, on a cot in an FBI conference room, on a dorm room floor, and then finally one night in a real bed in the luxurious “cabin” our teammates are renting. Minus the hospital, I’ve dealt with the same sleeping arrangements (yes, including the giant fluffy bed, no, we will not make a big deal of it). Even without the copious injuries, I do not have why don’t we go horseback riding? energy. But somehow Neil, with his half-melted face and arms, has giddied up to come smile at me and the sky and the trees.

This brings me to my point: I’m in deep. I’m so fucked. This morning, I would have told you that you’d never catch me in touching range of a horse. But for twelve hours, I thought Neil Josten might be dead; if he’s going to stand in front of me, saying he wants to go horseback riding, then yeah, every person on this goddamn team is going to get on a goddamn horse unless they want me to gut them.

My thighs are so sore and itchy. I’m on a horse that smells worse than my gear bag, swatting away flies and dodging low branches. I genuinely hate the present moment. It’s my fault, I know: these are the perils of letting ourselves fall for stupid ass men. These are the perils of getting attached to anyone at all.

But put yourself in my shoes. Really visualize it — they are cowboy boots with honest to god spurs, and I was forced to pay money to rent them.

Now ask yourself: Did I really have any other choice?

now on ao3!

#this is crack BUT #watch out for the feelings #I was unable to escape this scenes proximity to baltimore lol #THE WOUNDS ARE QUITE LITERALLY VERY FRESH #aftg #aftg fic #my writing

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nerdy-hyperfixations · 10 months

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I can not stop gushing over how amazing Mutant Mayhem is. You can SEE and FEEL that this was such a passion project. A lot of people all throughout the trailers have been comparing the art style to Spiderverse because of the way it mixes 3D animation with 2D elements but it’s such a unique style regardless. The animation looks as though it’s made to resemble claymation with crayon drawings on top, which weirdly both helps it feel like child whimsy as well as emphasize the grimy atmosphere. I can’t help but admire how ugly in a beautiful way the animation is. It’s perfect. And that’s JUST the animation. The SOUNDTRACK was phenomenal. I loved when I could recognize songs, that’s always fun, but just in general there was never a moment I hated a song that was playing. THE WAY IT USED MUSIC FOR COMEDY was ABSOLUTELY my cup of tea: the whole car chase scene playing What’s Up by 4 Non Blondes was hilarious. THE MOTIFS- I just. I can’t. I love how when you saw flies circling characters, you could hear flies. The whole thing was absolutely riddled with jokes, just as it should be, but in particular the reoccurring jokes were executed perfectly.

Watch it please it’s so good. It deserves to have people talk about it-

#tmnt #tmnt mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem #it’s was amazing #go watch it #please #the tickets actually aren’t expensive for some reason #probably because it’s like. 90 minutes.

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ichinoue · 10 months

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I just finished watching bleach, and I'm not much of a shipper, as in I didn't care for the ships. But ichihime just didn't make sense to me, I have no problem with renruki but ichihime just didn't do it. So like I'm genuinely curious as to how they stuck out for people like you who absolutely adore it, I've also seen alot of hate towards it so once again I'm curious. Is there any reason that you personally always loved the ship? Be it their chemistry? Or interactions?I don't know I just want to see the appeal

Well, for starters, if you've only watched the anime, I think that can definitely taint your perception of IH because the animators butchered it so much compared to how it actually is in the manga, especially in the early arcs. I made a post on the very first IH moment in the anime vs. the manga here although it's pretty old so the links I used as references are probably broken now. But I definitely recommend reading the manga to get a true sense of what their dynamic is like!

Honestly it's hard to sum up why I love this ship so much without pulling out a bunch of manga pages and turning this into a full blown essay of things I've already said a million times before (but I'll attach a bunch of links to some of those posts below lol).

But I just love the sweetness of IchiHime. The mutual respect. The selfless care and consideration they have for each other. How dorky they are together. The way they make each other better, and stronger. The way Orihime can pull so many passionate, emotional reactions out of Ichigo--the way he softens around her, the blind rage when his enemies use her to taunt him, the way he flies off the handle in a panic when he thinks she's in danger, the depression he fell into when she was gone, the relief he feels when he realizes she's okay. The puppy dog eyes he gives her. The way everyone else kicks him in the head or punches him to lift his spirits, but Orihime--she only has to use gentle words. The vow to protect, the rising up from the dead to keep that vow. Not even death could keep them apart. Orihime wanting to love Ichigo in every lifetime she lives, she would choose him every single time. And yet she never expected him to love her back--he just did. All on his own. He was pining for her, they were pining for each other. It was mutual long before they even knew it.

And I think Kubo did so well writing for the IchiHime relationship. It's got cute, heartfelt moments, angsty teenager moments, silly, comedic relief moments, and dramatic, life-or-death moments. You can see their development from one arc to the next, see the clear-cut changes and growth in their dynamic from beginning to end. They never stopped changing, and growing closer over time. Which created a nice, long slow-burn for me to sink my teeth into over the course of Bleach's 15 year run.

Anyway, here's some links of posts that explain different aspects that I love about this pairing:

I have an extremely long masterpost about IchiHime here, which mostly goes into detail about why I think it was obvious for canon, but it covers almost every single IH moment in detail and my love for the pairing and reasons for shipping it are pretty much woven into the fabric of this post lol.

The chemistry of IchiHime.

My top 3 favorite IchiHime moments.

Masterpost of moments where Ichigo and Orihime protect each other.

IchiHime implications of the lust arc.

Ichigo being teased about Orihime.

Ichigo's vow to protect Orihime.

Ichigo and Orihime's growing feelings for each other.

Orihime consistently being singled out to target Ichigo's heart.

Orihime loving Ichigo's kindness.

Ichigo being receptive to Orihime's feelings.

And these are some posts made by other people that I like:

A post about Ichigo's feelings for Orihime.

This one is an image post that basically combines almost every single IchiHime moment from the first to last chapter, as a visual reference.

A response my friend gave when asked the reasons that they ship IchiHime that I wholeheartedly agree with.

And another list of reasons.

I also just really love this post.

#IchiHime #fav

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 5 months

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Kinkuary Day 3

AN: You all moved on but, I stayed here. This hair on him was so good, idc. Don't ask me where this came from because I couldn't tell you lmao. Also, at this point, these will come out when they come out lol but, I am still very much working on Kinkuary.

Synopsis: Namjoon has always joked that Jungkook has terrible self-preservation. Maybe he's right. And maybe Jungkook would willingly fall into your clutches every single time.

General tags and warnings: Jeon Jungkook x Fem! Reader, Jungkook and Reader are friends with benefits, hybrid au, bunny hybrid! Jungkook, fox hybrid! Reader and this is just pwp if I'm being honest.

Primary kink: Knife play (pretty heavy blood play too).

Smut tags and warnings: Dom! Reader, sub! Jungkook, knife play, blood play (Jungkook bleeding and Reader licking his blood), Jungkook being pretty masochistic and Reader being pretty sadistic, dirty talk, hints of primal play, handjob (m. receiving), slight overstimulation (m. receiving), very mild degradation (m. receiving), some praise (m. receiving) and petnames.

Word count: 1.3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Jungkook isn't sure how he wound up here.

Well, that's not entirely true. He does know how he ended up in your bed. Again. However, he'd rather not validate Namjoon's relentless teasing so, he prefers to feign ignorance.

“Am I boring you? You seem distracted,” you purr into his throat, your sharp canines lightly dragging along his jugular with enough pressure to speed up his heartbeat. He shakes away thoughts of his best friend, “No I– I was just thinking about something work related. I'm sorry.”

“Aw, I guess I really am boring you if you're thinking about work right now,” he can't see your face but, he can see your faux pout as clear as day. The apology he's about to stutter out is interrupted by a choked moan when your hand drifts to cup him through his slacks. His hips buck up into your hand without his say so but, based on the way you nuzzle into him and giggle, you don't seem to mind all that much.

“You're so cute, bunny,” Jungkook hates that nickname with a burning passion but, he can't bring himself to feel anything except affection when you call him that. A gasp flies out of his mouth when he feels the familiar cool, sharp edge of one of your blades. His eyes fly open, his ears twitching insistently and his instincts screaming at him to run. Get away. Anything. However, he shoves them down and bends his neck to allow you more access. His cock throbbing in the confines of his boxers.

Desire twists in the pit of his stomach when you add more pressure. The familiar sting of your blade prompts his lashes to flutter, his body practically crumples against your chest and god, it's been too long since he's let you have him like this if a single press of your knife is enough to render him so dizzy already. He groans when you drag it along his skin. Strong hands gripping your thighs to steady himself somehow while your other hand focuses on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

“You're so pretty, Kookie,” you whisper so softly that he almost misses it. The praise shoots straight down his spine to his already hard cock. His head lolling back slightly and a throaty whimper leaving his lips when your hand finally manages to free him from his boxers and slacks. His hips jerk when you wrap your hand around as much of him as you can. That does make him crack his eyes open. The sight of your pretty hand wrapped his slick cock adds even more fuel to the want building in his veins.

“Please,” he heaves, squeezing his eyes shut when you tighten your grip around him but, do nothing else. Your blade dragging down his throat until it reaches his shirt. He should be a little more upset at you using your knife to cut it open but, he honestly can't bring himself to care much right now. Especially with each brush of the blade against his bare chest. Fuck. He never thought he'd miss it this much.

“Please what, bunny?” You ask into his shoulder. A large part of him admires your ability to multitask. He has no idea how you can focus on more than one action at a time right now but, you have always been better at keeping yourself together than him. He tries to access his brain to think of something to say to you. He's sure you can feel him throbbing in your hand but, you have always had a bit of a sadistic edge.

“I– please. I'm so hard. Wanna cum so bad, please,” he whines, turning his head until his lips meet yours. It's incredibly uncomfortable but he couldn't care less. You kiss him back with so much ferocity that he's lucky he doesn't get swept away from the sheer force. Your canines nip his lip harshly enough to draw blood and, he can't tell who moans louder. You swallow all of his sounds of pleasure when your hand does finally grant him some relief. Your strokes are unforgiving from the get go. The slick sounds of it echoing throughout your bedroom. The only thing keeping him from fucking your fist like he so desperately wants to is the blade being dragged across his abdomen.

For a brief moment, he wonders if it would be completely insane for him to fuck your hand anyway. Letting the blade press and press into his skin until it draws blood.

If you notice the way he throbs in your grasp at the thought, you don't mention it.

“Can't wait to mark you up,” you mutter against his bruised and bloodied lips. Pressing your knife deeper into his skin enough for the pain to add to the foggy state of his mind. The faint lines you leave across his stomach sting a little but, it's nothing he can't handle. If anything, it's not enough.

“More, please,” he whimpers, gently grasping your wrist and pressing the blade further and further into his skin until it hurts. You make a noise so animalistic that it sends up his prey warning signals briefly but, he resists. He knows he can trust you. Against all instinct and better judgement probably but, he'd let you make him bleed as much as you want to.

“I didn't realise you were such a pain slut,” you laugh and the sight of his blood painting your lips is far, far too attractive. He's getting dangerously close and he can't help but, feel a twinge of embarrassment. Has it really been so long that your hand and a few cuts of your knife are enough for him to already be teetering so close to the edge? God, he's pathetic.

“Just missed you. Missed this,” he gasps, his hips snapping into your grasp when you quicken your pace. Electricity building in the base of his spine and sending sparks to his extremities while you drag your knife up to his throat. If he wasn't sitting on it, you'd see the way his tail wags excitedly at the mere suggestion of your actions. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum so bad, please please please–”

His release slams into him like a train when you dig your knife into his neck enough for him to bleed. Droplets run down his chest but, he's too preoccupied with projecting out of his body somewhere into the galaxy to pay too much attention to them. His body folds into itself when you continue to stroke him through his orgasm. Wringing as much of his thick cum out of him as possible and painting his stomach and thighs white with it all.

“Too much, too much, too much,” he gasps out once he's able to put words together. Jolting away from your hand and sagging against you once you grant him mercy and stop stroking him. Sticky with a mix of his blood and his cum, all he can do for now is try and steady his breathing and piece himself back together while you lap at his neck and stroke his arm with your unfairly soft tail.

“Don't fall asleep on me yet, bunny,” you tease him and that's when he realises he shut his eyes who knows how long ago. Blinking them open, he's greeted with the sight of his blood smeared on your lips and chin. Your ears twitching pleasantly when you absentmindedly lick at what you can reach with your tongue.

Maybe Namjoon is right.

Maybe he is just the dumbest bunny hybrid alive who willingly puts himself in the clutches of a woman who could end him in a heartbeat. However, now, while he comes back to himself and feels his cock starting to jump back to life at the vision you create, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | BTS Masterlist | Ko-fi.

#jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader smut #bts x reader smut #bangtan x reader smut

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thomasisaslut · 8 months

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Eris Vanserra x F!Reader

Wax Play — Kinktober

Word Count: 1.2k

Includes: Wax Play, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Jealously, Light Bondage, Bath/Shower Sex, Spanking, Sexual Punishment, Fingering.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50770960

On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1389413230-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑-𝐖𝐚𝐱-𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲-𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐬-𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚-𝐱-𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

After a long and difficult training with some of your fellow Autumn Court faeries what you needed was a nice bath and rest, you enter the room you shared with you mate but when you open the door you're instantly pinned to the back of it, Eris' hand flies to the lock—quickly making sure it was fully shut before bringing his head by your throat—inhaling your scent.

"Eris? Is something wrong?" You ask concerned, he has never shown this side of himself, at least not with you.

"You're scent." He growls. "You smell like those rats you were training with." Eris' eyes meet yours, both lust and rage showing in the fire of them.

"They are not rats, my love." You chuckle and peck his cheek. "They are our guards and soldiers."

He rolls his eyes before tossing you over his shoulder—forcing a small gasp out of you—before you're thrown onto the bed, he quickly straddles you, pinning your hands above your head.

"I hate when you smell like others, I think I need to change that, darling." Eris purrs before biting on that soft spot between your shoulder and neck, your breath hitches.

"Do you think so too?"

You nod. "But I am filthy."

"So? You are my mate, do you think I care?" Eris smirks.

You hesitate before shaking your head no, his smirk only grows.

“May I try something new, sweetling?” Eris grabs something from the drawer, you nod.

When his hand comes back into your line of vision you see a long orange-red candle in his hand, without a second thought he summons his flames, lighting the candle—the wax quickly begins to melt. He sets it down on the nightstand for a slim second before ripping your training outfit into two.

You shiver from the sudden cold but it is short lived as Eris picks up the candle and holds it over your breasts, the wax slowly drips down, leaving a small sting as it hardens on your chest.

Your whimper only excites him more.

The orange-red candle continues to drip onto your tits before he moves it down, the wax staining your stomach then thighs. Marking you. Claiming you again.

“My sweet thing…” Eris brings his free hand to your wet core. “Already so slick…” He uses his magic to finish melting the candle on you—the scent of it was a masculine thing, it smelled like your mate. “All for me?”

“Eris…” You whine as his two fingers tease your entrance.

“Yes?” He chimes, an innocent smile plastered along his face as he slides two fingers into your cunt.

“I- oh!” You moan, getting cut off by the sudden insertion.

“What were you saying, dearest?” Eris doesn’t stop his fingers as he toys with your pussy, thrusting and curling them deep within you.

“You… are the most jealous… man I know.” You state in between whimpers and pants.

“And?” His fingers speed increases.

“I love you.”

Eris’ cheeks flush a light red, he rolls his eyes before kissing you passionately, his lips melding into your own in an intoxicating manner.

“I love you too, sweetling. Now, strip me.” He demands as he motions to his pants.

You instantly sit up, the wax that was once a liquid cracks as you move. Your hands move to the tie of his pants, quickly undoing the leather before shucking down the cloth. His cock springs out, erect and leaking pre, needing to be within you.

“Hands.”

Nodding, you give his member a few experimental strokes—Eris groaning in between each—before you slowly kiss the tip, sliding the start of him into your mouth before taking him in further. By the time he is halfway in he pushes you back onto your spine. Eris spreads your thighs by using his flames—they don’t hurt, you know they don’t but the thought of a little masochism never made you scared.

Eris’ cock is now slick with both his pre and your saliva, he aligns the head with your dripping core—looking up at you once more—before gently thrusting the tip in. You moan softly, your hands find his nape and you tug him down for a kiss—his cock slides in halfway from the sudden movement.

“I love you so much, My High Lord.” You tease.

“And I love you, My High Lady.” Eris smirks.

Your eyes widen in shock. “High Lady?”

“The Night Court has one, why can’t we follow in suit?” His lips find your neck as he bottoms out.

“O-Our…” You moan as he begins to slowly pound. “Court is much less accepting!”

“You think Illyrians are accepting?” Eris groans as his hands find your hips.

“Well no…” You whimper. “But.. they-“

“They are as hot-headed as we are, Rhys has control…” His own moan passes his lips. “Over his people better is all.” Eris kisses you again. “You will make a wonderful High Lady.”

You hesitate once more before kissing him again. “Yes… I will.” You smile.

Eris chuckles before thrusting harder. “I am still pissed.”

“Oh are you?” You smirk. “Then punish me, little fox.” You tease your mate with the nickname. In a second he slides out and flips you over before instantly bottoming out deep inside of you, once the tip of his cock finds that softer spot inside of you his thrusts become more powerful than they ever have been before.

“You want me to punish you, darling? I will.” His hand connects with your rear before it does for a second time. You feel your wrists close together, you look up to see a chain of his fire around them—the same flames that held your ankles.

“You will only train with me from now on, or with the other females there.” Eris smacks your ass again. “I will not have those guards scents all over you, they smell like shit.”

If you could laugh in this moment you would, but the mix of pain and pleasure was too much.

Eris continues to smack your behind until he feels satisfied, he then moves his hands to your hips—pulling them back to match his now sloppy thrusts. You can tell he is close by the rhythm.

“Touch.. touch my clit.” You plea. “Please, my love!”

His right hand moves from your waist to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion.

“Cum with me, My High Lady.”

The knot in your stomach builds and before you know it the two of you both moan as your climaxes release, Eris doesn’t stop pounding until his load is deeply buried inside of you, slowly pulling out of your cunt he releases the flames binding you to the bed.

He flips you again before tugging you close to him, he holsters you up with one arm, throwing you over his shoulder before leading you to the bathroom. Once inside he flicks on the tub and places you in it.

“You want a bath still? Get clean. But right now I am not done with you.” Eris purrs before connecting his lips with your neck, he leaves dark red and purple bruises littering your throat.

“I love you.” He mutters.

“I love you too.” You smile at him, your lips kissing his hairline. “So much, Eris.”

He returns a smile before it fades into a mischievous smrik. “I am still not done with you, High Lady.”

You giggle before connecting your lips with your mates. What a beautiful way to become High Lady of the Autumn Court. And… to fuck your mate.

#eris my beloved #erisweek2023 #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #high lord eris #eris vanserra #acotar #acowar #acosf #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #acofas #a court of silver flames #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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