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twoidiotwriters1 · 7 months ago

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let me see you -Gilbert Blythe xFem!reader

Request: @ghostlyaccurate [...]maybe they recently had a baby, and reader is a little self cautious abt her body, and maybe she's overthinking abt herself and some tooth rotting soft smut occurs because Gilbert loves her regardless of what she looks like... Words: 1,324 Warnings: 18+ content, oral sex (fem receiving), mentions of pregnancy Twoidiots Masterlist

You're getting ready for bed after another blessed long day, as it has become your habit, you undress facing the wall instead of the mirror.

You've come to terms with the fact that your body might take a while before it goes back to its former figure, that if it ever does, and so you take each layer of fabric without paying much attention to yourself.

It's been three months and a half since you had your beautiful baby, but you still fear any sudden movements will affect your recovery, even if Gilbert insists that your body is ready to keep up with your normal speed.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Gilbert silently knocks on the door and then steps inside once your quiet voice allows him to come in. His eyes are immediately drawn to your figure, a small yet appreciative smile on his face as he approaches with open arms.

"We should rest," you turn quickly, escaping his embrace like you've done for the past two weeks.

"Y/N," he says reproachfully, his brow furrowing with disappointment. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Of course not," you sit on your side of the bed, kicking off your slippers and lifting a foot to rub it. "But we should rest, we don't know for how long will the baby let us sleep tonight, and you have work tomorrow."

Gilbert untucks his shirt, still frowning. "You won't let me touch you, don't think I don't notice."

"Don't be silly, Gilbert," you huff, turning to pull down the covers and sneak underneath them.

"Y/N Blythe," he scowls. "Look at me." He approaches your side of the bed and gets on one knee, gently touching your forearm. He observes you carefully for a moment before continuing to speak. "Is this about your recovery again?"

"No," you huff again, then wrinkle your nose. "Not quite."

Gilbert nods, gaze a bit absent as he thinks of what to say next. He gets up to sit beside you. "Is it about your body figure?" Before you can protest he hurries to explain. "I heard Diana and you when she came to visit you—she was telling you how hard it was to look at herself because she'd lost her juvenile body, and you said you knew what she meant."

You stare at your hands, clasped together and fidgeting with the lace in your nightgown. "Some nights I feel like I've aged decades in just a few months. And then I look at you, and you're still same old Gilbert running up and down the stairs, picking me up, rushing out and about. I feel inadequate."

"That's preposterous," he exclaims in disapproval. "I could not imagine a world in which you do not suit me, Y/N. My beautiful wife, there is not a day since we discovered you were having a baby that I have not felt awe and infatuation."

He leans in, reaching to caress your jawline with utmost reverence. You tilt your head into his touch, holding his hand in place with a gentle grip. "You haven't seen me since I had our baby, my body isn't as it was..."

"We were never going to stay the same, dearest," he mutters. "Even if no children had come, our bodies would've lost strength and volume with time. Wrinkles would come, our hair would lose color..." He runs his thumb over your cheek. "I didn't marry a body, I married to our love."

Gilbert shifts closer and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "I married your heart," he kisses your cheek, "your laughter..." his lips brush lower, reaching the soft skin under your ear, "your soul..."

His lips find your neck and press firm, loving kisses on the spot. His hand travels from your cheek to the back of your head, softly threading in the fine locks of hair he finds.

"Let me see you, dearest," he breathes, gently pushing you back. "You have no reason to fear."

His free hand moves up to the lace in your nightgown and expertly tugs on the bow, undoing the wrapping without looking and sneaking his palm underneath it, caressing your soft, sensitive chest with a featherlight touch.

"There you are," he smiles against your skin.

You close your eyes and press your head against the pillow, his head slipping from under your head and pushing against the mattress as he travels down, inhaling your perfume as he buries his nose in the open slit of your nightgown."

"Y/N..." he sighs, his hand tightening around the sheets. "How I've missed you..."

"I missed you too," you admit in a shaky whisper, one of your hands reaching for his soft curls and clinging to them gently. "My love..."

He groans, kissing a path down the valley of your breasts. "May I make love to you, my dear?"

You nod unable to speak, the air in your lungs too light to spare it. Benedict pushes the fabric wide open revealing your form to his eyes. His pupils dilate hungrily, months of patient waiting finally coming to an end. His large hand presses carefully on your tummy, and he locks eyes with you.

"I worship you entirely," he says, "but this?" He caresses your navel. "This part of you is my goddess. And this..." his hand moves down, slipping past the apex of your legs. His smile widens when you arch against his fingers. "That is my holy grail."

"Oh, Gilbert," you shiver, your legs curling under his touch.

Your husband kisses down your stomach. "You created a whole new little person in a matter of months, your body had to adjust to some changes..." he mumbles. "You're so wonderful, Y/N. I couldn't possibly love anyone else."

He reaches his destination at your core, and without warning, buries his face between your thighs, feasting on your juices. You gasp, bucking up your hips as he licks and sucks around your sensitive bud.

His hands grip your thighs apart, making sure you don't squirm out of reach on accident. Gilbert moans as if he's been praying for this moment to come, and it makes you feel perfect.

The moment you gather enough wit to control your limbs, Gilbert relaxes his hold on you, moving his hands all over your body instead. Revisiting old paths he's left unattended for far too long. He groans are every new luscious curve, his blood growing warmer at the idea of rediscovering you again.

"Gilbert..." you beg, panting with the struggle of not raising your voice too much and waking the baby.

Gilbert teases your entrance with his tongue, looking up to watch your reaction and smiling when he sees your cheeks flush a darker shade of red. He wishes to come here and finish every day like this, with your sweetness enveloping all of his senses.

Your body starts to tingle and tighten, and you warn Gilbert in a hasty whisper, closing your eyes in ecstasy. Your husband moans the moment you fall off the edge, hearing the contained whimpers you let out as you ride out your climax.

You brush his hair back and tug gently to let him know you've had enough and he sits up, cleaning his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, a triumphant look in his eyes as he smiles down at you.

"Like a fine wine," he breathes heavily.

You giggle tiredly, still catching your breath. Gilbert climbs back to your side and you roll to your side, he cuddles against you, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.

"I wish to love you now," you mumble.

"Later," he says resolutely. "You're tired, and it's probably for the best if we take things slow. Do not worry about me."

"I do not worry, I love you."

Gilbert's smile softens, he tilts his head and kisses your hair. "That's more than enough."

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @aleksosoto @moonhoonie @thatonementallyillsimp @cedricisnotdead @mikaelsonwhxrebae @lavenderacademia @angelhugsaresweet @slytherinambitious @outofst1le @na1ven3vy @lucyk

#twoidiots writing #anne of green gables #gilbert blythe smut #gilbert blythe x reader #x reader #female reader

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celestiamour · 6 months ago

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Dont know if requests are open but can u do an Edmund one where its 'touch her and ill kill you' trope except he actually kills the person?

Thank you for reading <3

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ “touch her, and i’ll kill you”┊0.7k words (part one)

contains: obsessive possessive behaviors (yandere) & murder!! literal backstabbing, pov of the dude edmund is jealous of, typed this on my phone

➤ author's note: edmund is probably ooc in this idk you’re not yourself when obsessed

it’s a threat thomas regrets to say he didn’t take seriously. sure, he was told this young man was a king of old and was to be treated with the utmost respect, but he seemed to be so boyish and immature at times with his infatuation toward the real royal’s dearest sister by bond. you seemed to be at your wit's end with him, but the other men chalked it up to young love as most of them were a bit older, and caspian himself was too busy to notice the extent of his obsession.

so that’s why he tried streaming you away two or three times under the guise of something needing your attention, which you gleefully rushed toward to escape your one-sided lover. you didn’t actually seem to know who he was or remember him as a savior—just another face in the crowd of dozens whom you were gladly willing to use as an excuse to leave—but he was glad to be that person even if he wasn’t recognized.

edmund, on the other hand, seemed to be seething with rage each time, to the point where he cornered thomas in the bunks, pushing the length of his arm against his chest, simply saying, “if you go near her again, i’ll kill you” before pushing him to the ground and leaving. it didn’t take a genius to figure out who this “her” was when he had yet to properly meet the young queen named lucy, who, by the way, seemed to be the only voice of reason in his twisted mind that was dead-set on making you his, and yet it still wasn’t enough. really, how could he when he didn’t even listen to your protests and was under the delusion that meeting you again on this ship was fate?

wasn’t his title “king edmund the just?” shouldn’t he be fair in judgment and unbiased toward his own opinions? they say love drives one mad, but really, to the point where you go against your namesake given by a talking lion deity?

because of this reasoning, he didn’t listen to his threat and proceeded to sit next to you during dinner. he wasn’t flat out in love with you, but he would be lying if he said being around you didn’t make him feel some type of way— but it might just be because of the lack of women on the ship. you were already immersed in conversation with your brother about what’s next on your voyage, but when caspian smiled and welcomed his company, you did so as well. you found him to be rather funny actually, even jokingly slapping his arm and covering your face at one point as the entire table laughed heartily. you didn’t think of it as anything, just a little gesture between friends, but edmund certainly didn’t agree with that and the way he gripped the knife as he stabbed into the loaf of bread sent chills down thomas’s spine.

the last mistake he made was ignoring his gut feeling that danger was approaching when he was all alone smoking a cigar on the bow of the ship at midnight, convincing himself it was merely the wind and the eeriness was from the vast unknown waters below where he stood when in actuality it was the impending doom of his eventual death by murder.

he was so lost in his own thoughts, missing his family and the ground being still rather than ceaselessly sailing twenty-four-seven, until he gasped at the sharp sensation blooming in his upper back followed by the warmth of fresh blood soaking into his attire. he didn’t even have the time to react or to turn around to determine the identity of his assailant before he was pushed overboard, not that needed too because he knew exactly who it was, his mind hazily wondered how the young king could have done all that in less than a minute to take the edge of the saltwater stinging his open wound and entering his lungs as he steadily drowned a painful death.

edmund lazily tossed the knife overboard as well, turning on and pointing his flashlight to scour the area for any evidence, very pleased to see it was a clean job for his first time.

it gave him the confidence to do it again if he had to.

#📜. her works #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #dark edmund pevensie #dark narnia #the chronicles of narnia x reader #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #yandere narnia #yandere edmund pevensie

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xxlady-lunaxx · 4 months ago

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sanemi had never liked his last name very much. it had come from his father’s side, and that alone made him hate it. but it felt much too intimate to let anyone say his given name—because it was the one his mother had named him, and it was his, and the last time he’d heard it was from his mother (even his siblings—like genya—called him ‘aniki’ or ‘nii-san.’ and, frankly, though kagaya referred to everyone by their given names, it felt different). so everybody called sanemi ‘shinazugawa.’ in a way, it was annoying. in another, it felt like safety, as if nobody truly knew him therefore he had not made any attachments, and it would stay that way. obanai was the first person to speak sanemi’s name in a way that drowned wholly in utmost love. it was clear, on his tongue, even through his bandages. and sanemi had never been good at love, but something about the way obanai was made him want to try it. it was so wrong, but it felt so wonderful.

“shinazugawa,” obanai had breathed, and he’d looked at sanemi with eyes filled with almost illicit infatuation. fuck.

“sanemi,” he corrected immediately, as if it was instinctive. which it wasn’t. he had never asked anyone to call him sanemi before. never. “it’s… sanemi.”

obanai blinked and then, when he spoke, there was a tinge of a shy smile in his voice. “sanemi,” he repeated slowly, and, fuck, the name sounded so beautiful on his lips. sanemi wanted to close his eyes and freeze this moment in his hands, pocket it to keep. and it ached, in the most honey-sweet way, when obanai echoed himself, once, twice, and then again: “sanemi. sanemi, alright… sanemi.”

“fuck, okay, stop,” sanemi pleaded, because he wasn’t sure he could handle anymore. his cheeks were burning with embarrassment—and something other, something he wouldn’t indulge himself in, yet he was sure shone clearly on his face. “that’s- that’s enough, iguro.”

“okay,” obanai said. then he paused and turned almost lazily to kaburamaru, stroking along his scales, before saying softly, “obanai. obanai… is fine.”

“oh. okay.” yes, this was okay. this was okay. wonderful, even. “okay. yeah.”

“say it.”

sanemi bit the inside of his cheek—hard. obanai would be the death of him.

“you will be the death of me,” he informed him. he hesitated. but, fuck, he wanted to say it. his mouth curved into the name, and he choked it out, feeling almost euphoric as the syllables slipped from his lips. he was so fucking pathetic and weird. “obanai. you’re killing me, obanai.”

“i’d hope not. sanemi.”

“obanai.”

(they were both weird).

“stop.”

“this is payback.”

“touché. sanemi.”

“fuck… you.” (they were both so, so weird. somehow, sanemi loved that about them. it felt nice.) “obanai.”

“sanemi.”

#thats kinda gay #(im not sure where i was going with this)#saneoba #sanemi x obanai #obanai x sanemi #obanai iguro #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi #kny obanai #obanemi #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #fluff #gay #kny drabble #kny thoughts

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littlefireball · 9 months ago

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Request for a hybrid Yepsamg x hybrid reader smut where he knows her and it's her first time being knotted etc. But the rest of ATEEZ walks in on them knotted together and They get really Embarrassed?

Sorry for replying late 🤧

ʏꜱ|ᴡᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴛᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ (ᴍ)

ᴘᴀɴᴛʜᴇʀʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ᴘᴀɴᴛʜᴇʀ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.7ᴋ

Prompt: your protagonist is an assassin and their newest assignment is their childhood crush. (ref)

The streets of the ancient city were dark and silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the breeze. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale glow that barely illuminated the shadows that lurked in every corner. In this world of shadows and secrets, one figure moved with the utmost stealth, their every step calculated and precise. This was Y/N, an assassin known for your unwavering precision and cold-blooded efficiency.

As a unique panther hybrid, you possessed remarkable agility and formidable strength, making you the go-to choice for tackling challenging assignments from your superior. You've yet to face any adversaries that truly test your skills.

But tonight, your mission weighed heavily on your heart.

"Kang Yeosang." Your boss said while pointing at his photo. "He is your target." Yeosang. The name echoed through your mind, familiar yet strange.

Your mind raced back to a distant memory, one that you had buried deep within the recesses of your consciousness. Kang Yeosang was the boy who had stolen your heart with his mischievous smile and antics. In the back alleys of this ancient city, you'd roamed free, exploring abandoned ruins and scaling treetops like the wildest of cats.

He'd taught you how to find joy in the simplest of things—a skipping stone across a still pond, the laughter of a group of children playing tag. And amidst it all, your feelings for him had grown, blossoming into an infatuation that lingered long after you'd parted ways.

The war tore you apart from him, leaving you no choice but to go your separate ways. You found yourself taken in by the Assassin's Guild, molded from a tender age into a lethal instrument, taught to execute your missions with unwavering precision and to vanish without a whisper. In the grueling hours of relentless training, it was the memories of your time together that kept you going, a solitary beacon of light in the shadowy depths of your otherwise grim life.

Only you had never imagined that fate would bring you face to face with him again, this time as his executioner.

"Why him?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, though the question echoed loudly in the confines of your mind.

Your boss's expression remained inscrutable, his eyes hidden in the shadows cast by his hood. "He is responsible for gathering intelligence in ATEEZ," he said simply. "He caused too much trouble for our client."

Now, years later, you stood outside the imposing gates of ATEEZ's manor, your heart heavy with the weight of your assignment. you had been tasked with eliminating him, a political rival of your guild's patrons. The orders were clear: no mercy, no hesitation. But as you gazed up at the mansion's windows, imagining Yeosang within, your resolve faltered.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed aside your doubts and slipped through the shadows, your movements as silent as a ghost. you made your way to Yeosang's chambers, your heart pounding in your chest. As you neared the door, you heard the sound of soft laughter, and your mind was filled with visions of their carefree childhood once again.

Your heart twisted in your chest as you saw him. The mischievous boy from your childhood was gone, replaced by a cold and calculating man. But even as you prepared to strike, you couldn't shake the memories of your past.

Yeosang's laughter faded as he caught your scent wafting through the air, his gaze locking onto yours. "Y/N…?" The memory of your sweet yet fiery aroma lingered in his mind. Initially, he dismissed the fragrance as a figment of his imagination, but as it intensified, he understood that the enigmatic figure outside was indeed you.

"The meeting has concluded for today. Everyone is free to rest," he announced with a smile, nodding as the others unfurled their wings and soared away from the window. Now, only the two of you remained.

This was the moment you had been waiting for.

With determination, you reached for the lock, poised to silence Yeosang and carry out your mission. But just as you were about to act, the door swung open, revealing Yeosang, his eyes wide with astonishment.

For a heartbeat, you both stood there, suspended in time. The echoes of your shared past clashed with the stark reality of the present, leaving you grappling with the dissonance. Then, Yeosang broke the silence, his voice a blend of disbelief and sorrow.

"Y/N? Is it really you?" he asked, stepping closer.

You faltered, your hand still hovering over the concealed blade. You longed to explain, to share everything that had transpired since your last encounter, but the words remained trapped in your throat.

"I'm sorry, Yeosang," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "I have to do this."

"Y/N…" "Stop calling me!" With a sudden burst of speed, you lunged forward, your knife arcing toward his chest. He dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, but the force of the attack sent him stumbling back a few steps. You pressed your advantage, advancing with quick, relentless strikes, each one forcing Yeosang to retreat further.

He gritted his teeth and focused his mind, using every ounce of his strength and agility to parry your attack. The clang of metal on metal echoed through the alley as you exchanged blow for blow, each strike growing more fierce and desperate.

"Stop Y/N!" "What if I say no?" "You make me do this." Yeosang began to notice that your movement lost its rhythm and pattern. You were afraid, nervous; although you were a skilled assassin. It appears you've reverted to the delicate version of yourself, the one who can't bear to harm those you once cared for. Yeosang seized this moment, skillfully evading your strikes and slowly exhausting your resolve.

You swung your knife in a wide arc, aiming for his neck. But Yeosang was ready for you. He had anticipated your move and had already begun to pivot on his feet, using his momentum to spin out of the way. As your knife passed him by, he reached out with his free hand and grasped your wrist, locking it in place.

"You lose." His voice was soft but firm. You could hardly believe you were caught in such chaos. Once, you were the conqueror, the one who made others plead for your mercy. But now, everything had shifted. You fought against his grip, but he held you fast.

"I never meant to hurt you, but you pushed me to this point, Y/N." Yeosang used his strength to pull you closer, twisting your arm sharply until your knife fell from your grasp.

"Shit." You bit back a cry, turning your head to avoid his intense stare. You knew that if you met his eyes, you would lose your resolve. He locked your arms behind you, pressing you down against the table with a force that left no room for escape.

"I never thought we would meet like this, little one. Yeosang leaned closer, his breath a warm caress against your skin, igniting a tingling heat within you. You could sense the rise and fall of his powerful chest with each steady breath, a warmth radiating through you, enveloping you in a cocoon of intensity.

"Tell me. Are you trying to kill me?" His voice, though gentle, carried an undercurrent that sent a thrill of danger through your veins. He was tender and kind, yet beneath that softness lurked the spirit of a panther.

"It's obvious." You spat the words out, each one a shard of ice that cut through the tense atmosphere. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, but only for a fleeting moment before you forced them back down. The pain in your arm was excruciating, but it paled in comparison to the emotional turmoil raging within you.

Yeosang's grip tightened momentarily, as if he were weighing your response. "Obvious, is it?" he repeated, his tone hardening. "Then why, Y/N? Mind your words." He suddenly darted on you, colliding with your clothed lower core with his pelvis. As your back collided with the sharp edge of the table, a sharp cry of pain escaped your lips; yet, that sudden jolt ignited an unexpected sensation that radiated from your hips.

"It's complicated," You finally said. "It's better if you don't know. It's safer for both of us."

Yeosang's hold on you tightened, causing pain and reminding you of his dominance."Safer? How can it be safer for you to try and take my life?" Although his voice was firm, you saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes, and it was almost more than you could bear.

"There are things you don't know, things I can't tell you." You whispered.

"You know what, Y/N?" His voice dropped to a low whisper, his breath hot against your ear. "I've been searching for you for so long after we tore apart. I even joined ATEEZ hoping to track you down. But guess what? You tried to take my life."

"No, Yeosang…I…" He cut off any attempts at explanation with a touch of his fingers to your lips.

"I don't want to hear your excuses. I want the truth. Why did you come back?Why now?" He commanded, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. His aroma intensified, wrapping around you like a scorching tide.

What's wrong? Why did his scent become that strong? And why did he become so rough?He was used to being kind and tender. It was nonsense but you couldn't figure it out.

Each breath he took and every caress sent you spiraling deeper into a haze. Despite having taken inhibitors, your attraction to him remained potent; it was more than mere lust—it was a feeling long buried within your heart. Your mission was to end his life, yet your very essence craves his love. The clash of these emotions is intoxicating, and your body starts to respond in ways you can't control.

"Yeosang, please," You begged. "Let me go…"

"Let you go?Huh?" He snorted, his hand landed on your neck, giving you a beautiful necklace. "You tell me to let you go after you try to kill me?You think it is your home?"

"No, yeosang…" You shifted your thighs restlessly, brushing against him just enough to feel the heat of his desire. A wave of heat enveloped your body, and a pulsating sensation in your lower half intensified, creating an overwhelming discomfort that was hard to endure.

"Kitten, you're so hot." The pet name he gave you stirred your heartstring, it was how he called you when in youth. You liked it, actually. "Shouldn't you take an inhibitor before implementing the mission?"

"I…I took…let me go…please…"

"How can you just walk away when you're feeling this way?" Yeosang teased, a playful laugh escaping his lips. "Do you recall what you said back in the day, kitten?"

"What…?"

"You mentioned wanting to be my mate for life. Does that ring a bell?"

"I…uh…" Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and words eluded you completely. All you craved was someone to fulfill your desires, right here and now.

"Say it and I'll help you, hm?" His voice resonated like a siren's call echoing through the depths of the ocean, luring you closer to the seductive depths of longing. You found yourself unable to resist, surrendering completely to the overwhelming pull of your desires.

"Yes…please." Before your words came out from your lips fully, he caught your lips with a passionate kiss. The aroma of his presence, intertwined with the fresh fragrance of shower gel, enveloped your senses like a warm embrace. Each steady breath you heard became more pronounced, weighing down on you, as he gradually stole your breath away, leaving you gasping for air. Just when you felt the walls closing in, he released you, lifting his hand to brush away the crimson mark on his pale lips. His gaze locked onto yours, a smile playing on his lips, as if savoring the moment.

"Such a horny kitten." Yeosang gave you a smile before ripping off your clothes, leaving only your bra and underwear. He knelt down, his wet tongue skimming through your fine thigh. The coldness made you whine as your wet skin was exposed to the air. He grabbed your thighs, diving his face to your clothed clit. The way his hot breath pooled against your clit caused your juice to flow out, soaking your panties.

"Sensitive af, little one." You suddenly his hand clenched hard on your pelvis, he dropped a broken kiss on your clit before sucking it hard. "Sangie…!" You gasped loudly, your hands found their way on his head, brushing his hair.

Smiled, he pulled down your panties, leaning over to kiss you before aiming at your entrance. Once your lips met, he eased into you with a smooth motion. Your soft whimper was muffled by his tender kiss but there was no mercy in his throbbed thrusting. Each time his large, hard tip collided with your deepest part, you couldn't help but let out a loud moan. This crash gave you numbness as if an electricity passed throughout your whole body; your limbs went weak, head spinning in pleasure.

"You still love me, right?" He thrusted with each word, making you throw your head at the back. "I've…always…love you…!" You confessed, catching your breath. Your nails dug into his skin, scratching his muscular back and even drawing some blood. Yeosang never felt pleasure and pain at the same time, he became more excited. Leaving your pelvis in the air, he grabbed your knees to press against his chest, thrashing into you without mercy.

"Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Yeosang!!" Your screaming mixed with a loud skin slapping sound, filling the room and even the corridor. Each pang stole your breath away, yet an intoxicating pleasure coursed through your veins. Your awareness began to fade, lost in the haze of ecstasy. All you could do was moan loudly, surrendering to the desires of the man before you.

"I know you love me, dear." He smirked, pausing his thrust suddenly. Huffled, he leaned down to give you a kiss, lifting you up effortlessly. "So let me knot you." He placed you on the floor before flipping you over. Your hips were in the air and your head nestled into your arms, his big cock entered your soaked hole again. Grabbing your wrist as a support, he stared at slow pace but skyrocketed at a sudden.

"Slow…slow…sangie…!"

—-

"Hey, do you guys hear that strange noise coming from upstairs?" Jongho asked, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as an odd sound echoed in his ears.

"Could it be coming from Yeosang's room?" Yunho suggested, his curiosity piqued.

"But didn't he mention he was waiting for Y/N?" Wooyoung interjected. "Or maybe they had a disagreement and things got heated?!"

"What? If that's the case, Yeosang might be in danger!" San exclaimed, his urgency palpable as he prepared to dash toward Yeosang's room. "Y/N is a panther hybrid too. She must be just as formidable as Yeosang!"

"And remember, Yeosang said she was a skilled assassin! We need to rescue him!" Seonghwa declared, rallying the others as they hurried after San to Yeosang's room.

Actually, Yeosang was already aware of your arrival, even before you slipped into his house.

(One night before you slipped into his house)

"Y/N?" Hongjoong's gaze flicked over the report Yeosang had handed him. "Isn't she the one you had a crush on as a kid? And now she's an assassin?"

"Yeah… I never saw this coming." Yeosang's shoulders slumped as he sighed, his eyes downcast. "Just yesterday, I managed to breach her guild's network and discovered her mission…"

"And what's your plan? You've been on her trail for years, and now she's out to take you down."

"I don't want to harm her, hyung." Yeosang's tone was resolute. "I just need to speak with her first."

"Speak?"

"Yes." Yeosang took a step closer, determination in his eyes. "I can handle this, please believe in me. I know her better than anyone."

"Alright." Hongjoong rose from his chair, moving to the cabinet to retrieve a vial filled with a peculiar liquid. "I know I can't stop you, so here."

"What is this…?" Yeosang asked, examining the vial.

"It's an enhanced potion." Hongjoong gestured toward it. "It will boost your strength and speed after you drink it. Y/N is a formidable assassin. Use it if you find it necessary."

"Thanks, hyung." Yeosang tucked the vial into his pocket.

Unbeknownst to them, Hongjoong had mistakenly given him an aphrodisiac. Once again, he had mixed things up.

As darkness envelops the surroundings, Yeosang catches a fleeting glimpse of your shadowy form. Indeed, you possess great strength. Yet, remember, he is a Panther hybrid, intimately familiar with your every move and scent. Despite this awareness, he downed the entire potion without hesitation.

Initially, he believed he had truly tapped into a newfound power. But soon, an intense heat coursed through his veins, and he sensed a shift within himself. To the outside world, he had always been the quiet, reserved type, often blushing when your name came up in conversation. The gentle soul he once was now felt a thrilling sense of freedom. The wild instincts that had long been suppressed surged forth, unleashed by the potent aphrodisiacs.

"Gotta mark you, little one." "Fuckkk!!" His tip reached your deepest part, pushing into the intimate space while his big knot rammed into your cunt. You screamed in pain as if your lower body was torn apart, tears streaming down your cheek, dripping onto the floor.

"Is Yeosang killing Y/N?" Yunho asked with worries. "What did you give him?Hongjoong?!" Seonghwa shouted.

"Just an enhanced potion!"

"Did he drink too much?" Mingi remarked.

"It doesn't matter now. Hey, hyung we're─" Jongho swung open the door, all of them finding him cumming in your cunt with a long-throaty moan.

"WHAT THE FUCKKKKK!!!" "AHHH MY EYES!!MY EYES!!!" "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!" "WHY ARE YOU GUYS HERE?!" "AHHHH!!" A chorus of screams erupted all around, and you, who had been feeling lightheaded just moments before, snapped back to reality. Instinctively, you shielded your face and made a frantic dash for freedom. But you were unable to move as Yeosang knotted you.

"Don't move, Y/N. HEY YOU GUYS!GET OUT!" They immediately closed the door, leaving you two silent in embarrassment. "Fuck…Y/N." Yeosang's moan broke the stillness as he finally finished the knotting. He pulled out, his hot seed filled you so full and the overflow seed dripped from your soaked hole and his fat cock.

Shit, he loved it.

"Y/N, are you okay?" He flipped you over gently, tucking your hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry. I…I don't know why…" It seemed that he returned to his soft self.

"It's embarrassing…" You covered your face, not daring to look at him. "I wonder when you became so rough…"

"I don't…I drink the potion…wait…" He took out the empty tube from his jacket that hung on the coat hanger. "What the…"

"What's wrong?" You asked curiously. "No…nothing." He put it away immediately.

"Y/N." Took a deep breath, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "Actually I've been searching for you for so long…and I know you will come for me."

"You what?Then why you─"

"I know you will never hurt me."

"Don't you forget? I almost killed you?!"

"But you didn't." He hugged you tighter. "Sorry to be that rough. It's because of the potion."

"What potion?"

"Uh…umm…"

"Don't tell me that is an aphrodisiac."

"Ahh…sorry…I don't know. Hongjoong gave it to me."

"You have been so careless since you were a child."

"What?Don't you the same?Never tell others when you have difficulties."

His words brought you in a heavy silence. You would prefer that he despise you and suffer from your betrayal than pull him deeper into a perilous void. Thus, you choose to keep your secret hidden from him, even though fate has already revealed it to him in some way.

" I can't risk hurting you any more than I already have." You finally spoke. "I can't let you get too attached."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "I won't be scared, Y/N."

You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of frustration. "You don't understand. There are things about me, about my past, that would make you hate me if you knew. I can't risk that happening."

Yeosang's grip tightened once more, but this time it was more out of frustration than anger. "You're wrong," he said firmly. "I could never hate you. No matter what you've done, no matter what you've been through, I'll always be here for you."

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a mixture of hope and skepticism. "Are you sure? Even if I've done things that are unforgivable?"

Yeosang leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit. "I'm sure," he said softly. "Because I already knew what you did. You were forced, didn't you? You got caught up by them and you couldn't escape. Am I right?" Tears welled up in your eyes as he continued, you nodded at his words.

"I knew everything you did but I never hated you." He wiped away your tears gently, a bittersweet playing on his lips. "The war split us up, but now that we're back together, I'm not letting you slip away again."

You buried your face in his chest, letting out a sob of relief. You had been so alone for so long, and now, finally, you had someone who was willing to stand by your side, no matter what. Even with a multitude of unanswered questions lingering in the air, a sense of certainty washed over you as you nestled in his embrace, knowing deep down that you've chosen wisely.

"We'll face all the problems together, I promise." Yeosang said.

"But what're we gonna do now?"

"Come to our gang, Y/N. I'll protect you."

"No. I mean," You whispered softly, pointing at the door. "Your members. They're still outside."

"Oh shit…I forget it is the first problem we have to deal with…"

tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x female reader #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez yeosang #yeosang #yeosang smut #yeosang ateez #yeosang x reader #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez requests #ateez scenarios

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hateblackies · 1 year ago

Text

how could it be? the same man who vowed to eradicate every non-sorcerer, the man who hated your kind with a burning passion, had become utterly infatuated with you. he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it.

you were everything he hated: weak, helpless, oblivious, and dumb. most of all, a non-sorcerer. but you were gorgeous, he thought to himself. he could stare at you all day, yet he cursed himself at the same time for even feeling the slightest hint of attraction towards someone who should be a target.

geto let out a heavy sigh, realizing his attempts to rid himself of these thoughts seemed impossible. it was as if you plagued his mind. he thought maybe if he had his way with you, you would leave his thoughts alone for good.

he found himself staying in discreet places to watch you from afar, eradicating all curses that seemed to get too close to you to protect you. but for once, he allowed one to grasp onto you. just so he could watch you desperately come to his aid like the weak, foolish girl you were.

there you were, standing before him with a curse coiled around your waist. you winced in pain, trembling before him, your voice filled with stress. “please… i came to you because i figured only you could save me, geto-sama. i trust you.”

he was not surprised by the sudden visit. a smug smirk appeared on his face as he took in the sight of you, so vulnerable and helpless. a sense of satisfaction washed over him, knowing you looked up to him as some kind of savior or god.

geto threw his arms out, adjusting his large robes that swayed with every step as he analyzed the curse that had you in its grasp, humming in thought as he got close.

“stay still,” he said bluntly. with that, you felt the pain subside with what seemed like a simple movement of his hand and the sound of him swallowing something unknown to you. you opened your squinted eyes to see him brushing his hands off, a sour expression on his face.

you stood dumbfounded before the monk, unsure whether to break down in tears of joy or maintain your composure. you stuttered, rubbing your hand against the area where the curse had been attached.

geto took a sharp breath before straightening the creases in his robes and looking back at you to speak.

“humans like you don’t possess the ability to rid themselves of these curses. pity, isn’t it?” the monk said.

brought out of your moment of relief from the pain, you asked under your breath, “what do you mean?”

geto let out a small chuckle at your reaction, lazily throwing an arm over your shoulders as he walked you down the hallways of the echoing temple. “what i mean is, you people are the exact reason curses even exist in this world,” he said bluntly. “and yet, here you are, seeking my assistance. but that’s human nature, no? relying on those in higher power when they’re in need.” in these words, his voice softened a bit, almost as if he was sympathizing with you. “the least you can do is thank me, dear, after all, i just saved your life.”

you batted your lashes before looking up at him pressed beside you, his eyes fixed on yours intensely the whole time, the smug expression never leaving his features. you felt your face heat up and looked back down at the floor. “s-surely just a thank you wouldn’t suffice for what you have done for me,” you said shyly.

“ah, what are you implying? that you pay me compensation? impossible!” his free hand shot up, waving dismissively at you, his eyes squinted half-shut as a faux smile appeared on his face, his brows furrowed. “saving you poor non-shamans’ lives is my utmost duty, after all!” geto’s face almost immediately turned to one of anguish and despair, his tone filled with hopelessness, his fist clenched.

“but… i want to repay the kindness you have shown me. i’m in debt to you, aren’t i?” you countered, still not being able to look up at him towering over you.

geto’s expression turned blank a bit too quickly after your statement. he let out a low hum, taking a moment to think before looking back down at you. “well, you’re not wrong about that.” his response was blunt, leaving it for you to finish his thought.

suguru geto wasn’t the sympathetic type. he had never been so patient with a non-sorcerer before, which explained the smears of blood that splattered the walls and the disfigured body of a man whom he had killed for being a measly ¥170 yen off.

a moment of silence hung in the air. his arm extended to the side, bringing his oversized sleeves up enough to check the time displayed on his watch.

“perhaps… i repay you another way?” you suggested, your voice convincing enough, although faint and subdued.

were you trying to seduce him? he would never allow a filthy non-shaman to do such a thing, so why did he like the way it sounded coming from you?

he contemplated your proposal while he shifted to face you completely. his eyes traveled down your body, lingering a little longer on the exposed areas of your skin. “and what exactly are you suggesting?”

your eyebrows lowered at the sight of the large bulge beneath his heavy attire as he sat at the edge of the mattress, his arms supporting his weight as you knelt before him.

geto’s expression was stoic, but his body told a different story. his muscles tensed a bit as you wrapped a gentle hand around the base of his clothed cock. he took it upon himself to undo the okesa meticulously that fell to the floor in a crumpled mess, his cock springing up free at the discarding of his boxers.

your eyes widened at the sight. so thick and girthy, standing tall in front of your eyes. before you could begin anything, he muttered under his breath, “taking our sweet time, hm?” his hands quickly unbuttoned the shirt underneath the okesa, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. he tried to remain composed, but his impatience was clear.

his composure started to falter slightly, lips parted as he looked down at you, his eyes darkened with what seemed like heightening desire. his large hand made its way onto the top of your head, pushing you down without much warning, gagging you immediately, earning a pout from you.

“i know you can do it, pretty girl,” he said, a reassurance you could take all of him. you began to bob your head slowly, tongue dragging along his length, lips sucking softly at his tip, before allowing your head to fall slowly, taking all his length. geto’s attempts at stifling a moan came in vain, the sounds of pleasure leaving his lips like a song. you felt a sticky dampness collecting at your panties the longer this dragged on. geto felt a sense of guilt and disdain at the thought he was allowing a non-sorcerer to pleasure him, but your mouth felt so good, he got lost in it all.

geto’s head leaned back over his broad shoulders, in an attempt to hide how flushed he was getting. sweat beginning to collect at his bangs, he ran a hand through his long, silky hair. his whole body tensed, hands gripping the sheets, causing his veins to become more prominent through his forearms and hands.

a loud grunt escaped from his lips, thighs flexing as your pace quickened, lewd sounds of wet squelching filling the air. it was getting increasingly difficult to remain composed.

“don’t… push it,” he managed to grit out through clenched teeth, the muscles in his arm tensing as he attempted to steady his breathing. the feeling of your mouth was driving him insane, and it was becoming more and more obvious. his dark, heavy-lidded eyes were fixed on you. the sweet sounds of your muffled whimpers, your eyes glistening with tears threatening to spill down, your lips puffy as your mouth engulfed his red, swollen cock.

geto let out a small, shaky breath before the feeling of a gooey substance filled your mouth, and a low, guttural groan escaped geto’s lips as you halted your movements. he tilted his head back once more, his hair messy and stuck to his skin. his cum, white and sticky, coated his tip like some kind of glaze, dripping down his softening length slowly.

the two of you stayed in silence for some time, except for the sounds of your labored breathing lingering.

“geto-sama… my debt?” you finally whispered beneath your breath.

suguru, still attempting to gain back some semblance of composure, replied gravelly, “hm, i’ll dismiss you of compensation just this time,”

235 notes · View notes

yapileon · 7 months ago

Text

It comes and goes in waves,

mapi león x ingrid engen

their relationship was going well until mapi can feel ingrid pulling away. ingrid is struggling, will mapi be able to help her? hurt/comfort, tw: panic attack and talk of depression 6195w

It became clear how different this team was from Wolfsburg the moment Ingrid stepped onto the Barcelona pitch. In Germany, the team had to be a well oiled machine, precise and mechanical. It was about perfecting each specific movement rather than a team effort. There was no room for improvisation. Playing for Barcelona was the polar opposite; the team built on freedom and love of the ball. The captains would organize monthly bonding events where the team would meet up and enjoy some time together. She remembers the utmost confusion she felt the first time she had been invited to one.

She wasn’t sure of what she had expected when she had signed the contract. Maybe the same Wolfsburg had been, only in another country. It had been an adjustment to say the least. Ingrid would later understand that Wolfsburg were wrong in their values. By making their players act like robots, they missed the perfection of ‘the flow’; that rare moment where everything just seems to work, each pass connecting, all players seemingly on the same length without communication.

When Alexia welcomed her, pronouncing such a simple phrase “I’m looking forward to playing with you!” in her thick Spanish accent full of warmth. Ingrid’s throat had closed giving her a hard time to speak, she gave a dry laugh, unable to decipher the possible irony in it. But the blonde was truthful, she had seen Ingrid playing.

She still recalled her first day with the team. Ingrid had walked to the locker room and had been met with a sight she didn’t think was possible. The room was exploding in chatters; jokes were exchanged and teammates were embracing each other, faint noises of music in the background. She had stopped mouth agape but fully enthralled in the moment.

Later, one of her teammates had tried joking with her during a drill, Ingrid had looked around blankly, until she had realized she was allowed to laugh. After a few weeks of gauging how she was expected to behave, she had finally figured it out; she just needed to be herself. Since then, the Spanish city has felt much more like home. The genuine warmth everyone showed tugged at her heartstrings, and slowly, she realized their fondness was melting away walls she had spent years reinforcing.

There was one person in particular who had managed to make the Norwegian quite infatuated. A certain center back, with warm brown eyes who looked like a pool of gold when the sun hit them the right way; who grinned so much the joy was permanently marked into her face in those faint smile lines adorning her eyes. That woman was such a paradox, a bundle of softness and gentleness until her boots brushed grass, and she’d transform into pure determination. And Ingrid had the feeling maybe it wasn’t Barcelona, maybe it was her.

María Pilar León Cebrián was going to be the death of her, she was quite sure.

And she was proven right a few weeks after settling in the new city when the Spaniard had knocked on her door.

“Hei!” Mapi had said and the soft norwegian had made Ingrid’s heart race. “I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee sometimes, there’s a nice place closeby,”

Ingrid would forever cherish the sight she had been blessed with that day. The then blonde woman standing sheepishly, twirling a strand of hair around one of her fingers, face full of nervousness. As if it was possible for Ingrid to say no when Mapi’s shy smile could warm up the whole room.

This was the beginning of multiple mornings shared over fuming coffees in different shops. One minimalist, with white walls and metal tables. Another full of plants, books littering shelves, with tables whose wood was warm on the skin. The usual chatter of customers and drips of coffee machine blended in the background of their conversation. At each meeting the vulnerability of their talk would increase, until every word felt like a soft whisper. Ingrid remembers saying something insignificant, and suddenly Mapi was throwing her head back, laughing in a carefree way only the Spaniard could do. Time slowed around them, until it became obvious to Ingrid that it was so much more than a friendly moment. There was an intimate tenderness in the way she traced the tattoos on the Spaniard’s neck, softly memorizing each stroke. There was love in the way Mapi would sprinkle norwegian words in her phrases to make Ingrid feel at home.

And Ingrid remembers being struck with the overwhelming urge to run. Because this situation was terrifying, really. She wasn’t supposed to be falling in love, she was here to play football. But then Mapi’s fingers had found their way to her hand, slowly reaching for it, seeking permission. And Ingrid allowed it. It felt like an anchor, allowing her to stop fighting against the current and she closed her eyes to appreciate the moment. When she opened them again, she was greeted by Mapi’s mahogany eyes, full of fondness. So she squeezed her hand, and kept drawing soft circles on it all throughout the day they shared. The Spaniard had dragged her to some of her favourite spots in the city; a park full of wildflowers, a small restaurant on a rooftop and later, on a beach, watching the sunset disappear behind the ocean, hands still clutching at each other.

Until Ingrid’s favourite coffee had become the one Mapi made for her after they had shared their first night together. Everything had felt right since that moment.

Mapi wasn’t sure when something had shifted in her relationship with the emerald eyed woman. If it was that morning where she had witnessed the younger woman frowning in her sleep, her usually relaxed traits now tense. The way her eyebrows were curved and her forehead marked by a worried expression. Perhaps it was the way Ingrid had flinched in her sleep when Mapi had tried to caress the crease, instead of curling herself in the Spaniard’s embrace.

They had unofficially been living together for some months now. It had happened naturally as they were both located in the same building. Slowly, Ingrid’s clothes deserted her own closet to join the defender’s in the apartment above. The sweet, floral scent familiar to the dark haired woman mixed with the woodsy, fresh perfume of the Spaniard. They’d go to the farmers market together, making sure to bring back a fresh bouquet of flowers to leave in a vase because Ingrid liked the smell. Mapi was sure Ingrid didn’t even have a toothbrush left in her own apartment.

Their lives had simply intertwined without either of them needing to say it. The two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm from the moment they had met. Living together had made it even better, more effortless. Their morning ritual natural and easy. The brunette would get up first, cooking some eggs and vegetables, always served with coffee. The aroma would coax the norwegian out of bed. Ingrid would lean on the doorway, a smile tugging at her lips, watching her girlfriend hum a tune while moving effortlessly in the kitchen. When she couldn’t resist anymore, she’d make her way through the space, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard’s waist, leaving gentle kisses on her lover’s jaw and whispering heartfelt thanks. Mapi would lean her weight back into Ingrid, accepting the tenderness without question.

That morning though, the Norwegian had left before the coffee machine had even been turned on, leaving a bitter taste in Mapi’s mouth. Ingrid had given vague explanations, muttering something about interviews to deal with before training and having to go back to her own apartments to get ready. It made no sense.

Mapi’s drive to the training complex felt lifeless without the Norwegian. She was restless, constantly shifting on the seat, her thumbs tapping on the steering wheel in an heretic manner. Mapi couldn’t understand what had caused such a change in her girlfriend. Her mind went through the last few days, trying to find something, anything, but it came up empty.

When she poked her head around the locker room’s door, she was certain she’d find Ingrid, and they would smile to each other and when they’d be done with their day, they would go back home, hand in hand. Except Ingrid wasn’t there. Mapi frowned, a sense of worry settling deep within her; so she hurried to get dressed up in her gear.

When she reached the pitch, she let out a soft exhale at the sight of the Norwegian. But still, something was off. When Mapi had started walking toward her, waving at her girlfriend with a grin, the dark haired woman had simply walked the other way, not bothering to look up. Ingrid went on about her training session without giving her a glance. The Spaniard had frantically tried to find Ingrid’s eyes during training, desperate for some sort of reassurance, in vain. Ingrid could feel the burning stare of her girlfriend on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back.

It was so unlike them.

Their loving gaze was what had sold them to the team, back when they were still keeping their relationship secret. The way these two would always find each other's eyes, when anything happened. A soft smile when one had a good pass, a playful look when one beat the other during a 1v1. Exchanging soft whispers in the cafeteria while Mapi had a hand on Ingrid’s thigh, or while the green eyed woman had her arms over the Spaniard’s shoulder. The world kept spinning but they were there, together, always a reach away. It didn’t feel like this anymore.

The twist in Mapi’ stomach grew bigger as days passed. Each attempt to reach Ingrid had been met by an icy coldness who’d make the north pole shiver. It didn’t stop her from trying harder, though.

Mapi decided that today, she’d find a way to talk to her. If Ingrid didn’t feel like reaching out—for whatever reason—then Mapi would. So she tried to pull her on the side of the field one day, but the younger one had simply walked right past her, unbothered. Leaving behind a very confused Mapi, whose mouth was wide open and eyes gazing blankly in the distance. Then the Spaniard tried getting to the parking lot before Ingrid could leave, but it was too late and she was long gone. Mapi didn’t want to force the situation, but it felt so stagnant. The boat was sinking and she felt useless, standing on the side and letting her relationship disappear in the vastness of the ocean.

The frustration simmered in her. By the time she got home, she was pacing around her living room. The silence from Ingrid was suffocating. Mapi felt stuck and out of options.

Before she could realize it, she was knocking on Ingrid’s door. It felt desperate, but really she was. Her pulse was quick, seemingly getting faster and faster, the wait unbearable.

Then the door opened. And Mapi stood there, dumbfounded, her face visibly twisted in anxiety. “Hi,” Mapi started, she gulped, her voice dry and raspy. “We haven’t really had the time to talk, so…”

Ingrid looked so tired when she spoke, “Sorry, I’ve had so many things to do, busy season.” Her face was paler than usual, the kind of dead giveaway that someone is sick. Eyes puffy and red from crying.

Where was her lover’s spark was all Mapi could wonder. The taller woman had always been a sweet person. Who made you feel safe and secure. Who always has gentle words for younger players, who took pride in how much she cared about her friends. But these green eyes had no light in them. It broke Mapi’s heart.

“Are you alright?” she blurted. It was too blunt and she knew it. But she had to do something, she had to wave hoping for another boat to come and help salvage whatever was happening.

“I’m just tired,” Ingrid said in a sigh, “and we have a match tomorrow, I really need to sleep.” she had started closing the door, jumping slightly when Mapi put her foot in the entryway, blocking it open. Ingrid was slipping through her hand like sand. The same way it had that day where the lovers had watched the sunset together on the beach.

“Don’t lie to me, please,” her voice cracked, and she slowly withdrew her foot from the door. Ingrid didn’t answer.

The loud thump the door had made when closing would haunt her that night. She pressed her head on the cold wood, muttering an “I love you” like it would change anything.

Mapi felt everything and nothing, she felt empty and raw, helpless like an agonizing dog left on the side of the road. All her texts had been left unanswered, the dark haired woman hadn’t exchanged a word with her in multiple days. Not even a courteous nod. And now that Mapi had tried to reach out harder, it felt even more useless.

All she could do was stare at the love of her life, who seemed to be wasting away minute by minute. She could look at the wooden door, and realize all she could really do was retreat to her own apartment.

“Frido,” Mapi had choked on the phone later that night. The Swedish woman was sure she had never heard her friend so emotional.

The floodgate was open, and the center back said everything that was weighing on her heart. “I feel like I’m losing her, like she’s wasting away. She shut me out and I don’t even know why.” She could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks, full on sobbing, but she didn’t care.

Asking Ingrid’s best friend would either be a great or totally stupid idea. Mapi might be overthinking the situation, the Norwegian might just not want to be with her anymore. It was a possibility that had visited her in the nights where the coldness of her bed hit her hard. But what if there was something else, maybe Ingrid needed help.

“I’ve tried Frido, I really did, I texted and I waited and I went to her apartment, I don’t know what is going on and I don’t know if I can fix it.”

She was pacing around the coffee table, where Ingrid and her had shared so many moments. The norwegian’s crossword book still lying on it the way Ingrid liked, black ink scribbled all over the pages. Her mug was still there, too. Mapi could see the faint traces of her lipstick still on it, and she couldn’t bear to wash that mug. It would be too brutal, like admitting something was deeply wrong with her relationship. She’d leave it here until the green eyed woman would come back.

The blonde sighed on the phone, “Did she ever…” Frido cleared her throat.

She wasn’t sure her friend would be happy about what she was about to say. But she couldn’t do nothing. Frido had tried, too, to reach out to Ingrid, but nothing had worked. And the Swedish was sure if anyone could, it would be Mapi.

“Did she tell you everything that happened in Wolfsburg?” she had finished after what felt like an eternity for the Spaniard.

Mapi thought about it for a moment, “She said she struggled a lot to adjust there, after leaving Norway. That training was hard on her, the different playstyle, too,” she recalled.

On the other side of the phone, Frido nodded, that was something at least, a starting point. “It was more than that, some days it was so hard she’d barely get out of bed.” she started explaining, and Mapi felt her heart drop. She knew Ingrid had struggled in Germany, but she hadn’t realized just how much.

“Other times it was nightmares, or panic attacks related to matches,” the Swedish added. She heard Mapi gasp, sure the two lovers had talked about this, but Ingrid had always made it seem like she was more homesick than anything else.

“Ingrid was just really obsessive about her performance, the coaching staff was very demanding. Too much, really. It wasn’t healthy. And what they asked of her, it wasn’t fair.” Frido frowned while speaking, and Mapi stilled, her knees buckling, letting herself fall back on the couch. She was staring blankly in front of her, like it would make Ingrid materialize out of thin hair and everything would be fine.

“It was a very hard time for her, Mapi, it crushed her. Sometimes I’d wake up and be terrified for her, she seemed so gone, and it lasted the whole two years.”

Mapi was nodding furiously, hands shaking, she was trying to process what she’d just heard. “I thought she was doing better you know, since you two started dating, she seemed so free,” Frido was getting teary eyed, too. Heart aching for her best friend. “I think she might be struggling again,” her voice faded out, the weight of what she was about to say crushing her vocal chords, “ I think, the depression might have come back.”

The silence that followed was deafening. For a second Frido thought Mapi wouldn’t be able to deal with it. Her grip on the phone got stronger, like crushing it between her fingers might make her feel better. But instead, the Spaniard replied “I won’t give up on her,” her voice was full of confidence, words echoing in her mind like a mantra.

She wouldn’t give up on Ingrid.

Ingrid was still resting against the door, long after Mapi had whispered “I love you” and walked away. She wasn’t quite sure she had ever bawled like that in her life. It seemed they were living on a cloud of love up to some days ago.

Until one morning, she woke with a crushing weight on her chest—the same dooming feeling she’d always feared would return. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, it had started when she was a teen. Some days she’d wake up and nothing felt familiar anymore, it felt cold and deprived of colors, empty of any meaningness. It felt lonely, too. Like someone who’d been left stranded on a shore, who could see the land far away, never quite able to return home.

She’d push through it for a while until everything would return to normal, because there had always been her parents, then football, and later, Frido in Wolfsburg.

A small part of her genuinely believed it would never come back when she had met Mapi. Loving her was so easy, and being loved by her was the most gentle feeling anyone could ever feel. It felt like a protective aura had been casted, enveloping her with peacefulness and clutching at her hand when the waves tried to drown her.

So when it came back that morning, in Mapi’s bed, Ingrid ran. Any time the feeling came back, she fled, like the place it had happened in was forever tainted. The insatiable urge had always been inside of her, it was holding hands with the crushing depression, always linked in some ways. She hoped it had gone dormant in the arms of the tattooed woman. Whom she had come to love so passionately. But as much as she liked that thought, her soul was still tarnished.

Ingrid saw it as a survival mode more than cowardice. She had run away from Norway the first chance she had gotten, and then again from Germany.

And now she was here, and there was Mapi, and she was suffocating. The urge was clawing at her soul, she wasn’t sure how long she’d resist. The despair seemed stuck to her, crushing her ribs, choking her out until she couldn’t do anything else than lean into it.

The worst might be that Mapi wasn’t giving up. The Norwegian was painfully aware of the way Mapi would stare at her, during training, in the locker room, desperate for them to connect. Ingrid couldn’t give in. She knew she didn’t look good, she felt pathetic. She could see the bags from her sleepless nights. Her sunken face. The older women would only find emptiness in her eyes.

Ingrid couldn’t bear that idea, so instead she looked at everything but her. She gazed at the moving trees, she stared at the sun until her eyes burned, because maybe she deserved it. She had hurt Mapi. She would never deserve Mapi.

After what felt like hours Ingrid had dragged herself to her bedroom. She had let herself fall on the bed, curling into a little bad. She saw the sweatshirt on the edge of the bedside table and in a desperate attempt at calming herself down, she grabbed it. Pulling it closer to her and clutching at it, the fabric soft under her fingertips. Nuzzling her nose in the clothing, she inhaled. It smells like Mapi, a woodsy warm feeling which makes her heart flutter. It smells like peace and morning coffee and lovesick smiles.

Her breath was choppy and uneven. When they’d happen, they’d always hit her like a storm, wild and uncontrollable. Like waves washing away on her ribcage, and she can never quite pull herself out of the sea, dragging her deeper and deeper, relentless and undying. Sometimes, she felt like she’d drown.

She remembers being a child, spending summers on the Norwegian coast. She’d go in the lake and let herself sink, looking up to the sky. Shapes bent and twisted in ways they wouldn’t otherwise. Ingrid liked the way it seemed to separate her from the rest of the world, it felt familiar, as if the bottom was calling to her, slowly engulfing her. In the cold water she was weightless and free, any sound muffled and distant. Sometimes, she hoped she’d drown.

But these waves weren’t the soft movement from a lake rocking her to peacefulness.

Ingrid had survived after all.

She could hear the crowd going wild as they entered the pitch. When the whistle blew, she felt her determination come back for a short moment. She had always promised herself that whatever was going on off the pitch could not cross the white markings on the ground.

In a selfish thought process, she told herself that at least she was playing next to Mapi. Ingrid knew her fellow centre back was a force to be reckoned with. Mapi would wash away any mistakes she might commit. The match wouldn’t be easy, but the team had been in very good form.

Perhaps that’s why it hit her as hard as it did when it happened. They had lost after all, and Ingrid was to blame for it. She had over committed, leaving the opponent forward open to score a goal. Even Mapi hadn’t been able to save it. In some sick and twisted way, maybe Ingrid had over committed in her relationship, too. Each minute she had had with Mapi, each touch and each whisper had been on borrowed time. How foolish had she been to think she was worthy of any of it.

Stepping off the pitch looking lifeless, Ingrid wished she could disappear. Instead she kept her head down walking to the locker room. The whole world seemed muted, distant. She heard the thumping of her teammates’ boots in the tunnel. The squeaks of metal doors being roughly slammed, unbearable tension in the air.

Waves came washing over her, filled with regret when she had seen the look on Mapi’s face. The brunette was sitting at her locker, head bent on her knee, crying.

Ingrid shouldn’t be here. All the memories from Wolfsburg came rushing back. The hours spent in the video room, watching and rewatching match footage while the coach would scream at her, pointing out every flaw. She’d take it without complaining, tears quietly rolling down her face when it was too much. The extra training she was put through. She could always be better, but she’d always be not enough. And seeing her lover so devastated, Ingrid regretted everything. Maybe she should have closed the door on Mapi the first time she had come to invite her to get coffee instead of the previous night. Maybe Ingrid shouldn’t have come to Barcelona at all.

All she could do was retreat back to her apartment.

When Mapi saw Ingrid getting up to leave, all she wanted was to run after her. But she was frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. They had lost the game, and all she needed was Ingrid. She knew she should have gone after the norwegian, but she wasn’t sure it was what Ingrid wanted. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and leaned back into the locker, eyes staring off at nothing.

The Spaniard knew it was a brash decision, but it couldn’t end like that. There was an uncertainty to the situation, and Mapi needed answers, she couldn’t put up with one more second of this. Each step she took to reach the Norwegian’s apartment felt like an added gap in her relationship. She was so close and so far away at the same time.

She was sure the way to Ingrid’s apartment had never been that long. The narrow hallways of the building seemed to be crashing down on her, trapping her. But she needed to see Ingrid, so she pushed through the claustrophobic feelings, quickening her stride.

Until she made it to Ingrid’s front door and she stilled, unsure of what to do. It’s not like she could exactly barge in with a “Hey, I think you’re getting depressed again.” She still wasn’t sure if that was the cause for the green eyed woman's odd behaviour. But Mapi loved passionately, and cared for Ingrid in a way she had never felt for anyone else. The Spaniard had to try.

Mapi stood in front of the door, keys clenched tightly in her sweaty palms. She deeply hoped she wouldn't have to use them. It would feel like violating Ingrid’s privacy and she’s not sure that would be something the norwegian needed right now. So she tried knocking, fist shaking as she raised it. When no answer came, she knocked again. Louder this time, the vibration in her knuckles going up to her arm and waiting through the heavy, suffocating silence that followed.

With a sigh, Mapi slid the keys in the handle and turned them. Unlocking with a deafening sound, guilt hit her stomach. She was half expecting to get thrown out of here by a very angry Norwegian, who’d finally tell her she doesn’t want her anymore.

Mapi creeps into the apartment, slowly, and she can’t help shaking the sensation that it feels cold. Not the kind you can fix by raising the temperature. Barcelona was already hot, after all. This was different. The silence was oppressive, the type that smothers you in a nauseous feeling. Her warm presence cut the coldness like a knife, slowly making her way to her lover’s bedroom.

That’s when she hears it; a faint sound at first. Mapi freezes, heart pounding. The unmistakable sound of raw sobbing. She doesn’t need to think for her feet to take her to the bedroom. And the sight she’s greeted with breaks her in a million pieces, leaving her standing helplessly. Ingrid is tangled in the sheets, moving around and trembling. It’s like someone punched Mapi in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and it takes her brain some time to realize what’s really happening.

Ingrid is having a panic attack. The Spaniard wasn’t unfamiliar with them, they had accompanied her teen years, she remembers the trapping feeling. The one that would grip your throat, not letting go until you were sure you’d die. But she had never witnessed one, and she curses herself for not having asked Frido how to help Ingrid through one.

Mapi isn’t sure of what to do. She wants to rush to her, pull her into a hug and never let go. Instead, she tries to steady herself, carefully stepping in the room, unbothered by the mess of a place that hadn’t been cleaned in a while, and kneeled on the ground next to the bed. Her hand tentatively reaches out, stopping mid air. Ingrid looks so fragile, like she could shatter from the lightest touch.

That’s when the woman in distress spots her. Ingrid had been so used to loneliness, she was almost shocked when she registered the Spaniard in the room with her. But Mapi’s love had been unrelenting, every cold shoulder Ingrid had given had been met by more affection and care. So she had given up, or given in to Mapi, really.

When Mapi gently continues her previous movement, bringing her hand up to caress Ingrid’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings to her, like she’s the most precious thing in the world. Ingrid can’t help but throw herself at her neck, desperately clutching onto her, breathing still erratic. Gripping her so hard she was sure the Spaniard would have bruises.

“María,” she choked out through a shaky breath, voice painful from weeping. “I’m so sorry, please forgi-”

But Mapi cuts her up by placing desperates kisses on her forehead, like it’s the only thing she could think of doing. She pulled the woman into her lap, enlacing her arms around the crying body.

“I’m not good enough,” she said in between sobs, “I keep failing at everything; on the field, with you,” Ingrid whimpers. And Mapi can’t comprehend how Ingrid can think that about herself. Perfect Ingrid who loves so strongly. Loyal Ingrid who checks up on everyone after a rough loss. Ingrid who helps her teammates during stretches, making sure they don’t hurt themselves accidentally. Ingrid who stops to appreciate wildflowers on the side of the roads and scrunches her noses when she smells them.

That’s when it hits Mapi. When someone is so raw and vulnerable. Listing off all their flaws, aren’t they just begging for love anyways? Mapi would do that. Mapi would love her through the dark, stormy night and would hold her hand when the sunrise would make its way through the window. She wouldn’t give up.

The Spaniard held her jaw, forcing her to look in her eyes. She understood that Ingrid wasn’t being coherent in her thoughts, she just needed to know she’d stay.

“I know exactly who you are, Ingrid, and I’m not leaving.” she told her, voice laced with concerns and assurance.

Ingrid gazed into Mapi's eyes and she saw everything. She saw the color of coffee cups they had shared during their first dates. She was blinded by a fountain of rich gold who shone in the dark of her room like a lighthouse, showing her the way to the shore. She felt the warmth radiating from the brown, the same tones the wet earth has after it has rained. She was mesmerized by these amber orbs.

“We’re going to breathe together, just trust me,” Mapi took Ingrid’s hand and placed it right on her heart, hoping the fast but constant beating would help her lover calm down.

Ingrid had leaned her forehead against her lover’s, she let herself sink Mapi’s lap's more, not letting go of her tight grip. She mirrored the Spaniard’s breathing, slow inhales followed by a calm exhale. She let Mapi’s warmth envelop her again, hoping it would help push back the waves, bringing back that protective aura Ingrid loved so much. The steady movement of Mapi’s chest became an anchor, pulling her closer to the shore each second.

Mapi kissed Ingrid’s temple again, “Just like that, amor,” she murmured, voice low and soothing, like a call for Ingrid to sink into her even more. Slowly, the waves recoiled. Breathing became natural again, and Ingrid fully abandoned herself in her lover’s arms. They stayed like this for a long time, Mapi’s hand gently drawing circles into the Norwegian’s hair. Ingrid was clutching at her, she could feel her steadier breathing against her neck.

The brunette eye’s darted over the room, squinting to try and see in the darkness. The curtains had been left closed for some time, letting through the tiniest beam of sun. The room was bare, walls empty and bland. A shiver ran through her at the idea that Ingrid had spent the last days unwell in that place. When she looked down at the Norwegian's peaceful expression, she knew what she had to do.

Wordlessly, Mapi carried her back to their home. Where Ingrid’s favorite pillow rested on the couch, where the smell of flowers was strong, where the cozy atmosphere they had spent months building would be waiting to comfort them. Ingrid was almost asleep against her, letting herself be held and cared for.The faintest smile appeared on the Spaniard’s lips at that sight.

Ingrid could only feel grateful. She had spent the past days feeling miserable, making it hard for everyone around her. Yet, Mapi was here, she hadn’t given up on her, opting for taking her back home instead. Her sobs had quieted, only leaving wet streaks under her eyes for witness. Ingrid felt…calmer? Different in some ways, there was still too much wrong with her, she thought, but the steadiness Mapi exalted was enough to put her at ease for a bit. So when the Spaniard dropped her gently on the couch, Ingrid pulled her in against her to curl in her arm, still seeking peace. They stayed like this for a long time until Ingrid’s voice cut through the silence.

“I didn’t want you to see this,” she croaked, voice breaking midway.

Mapi adjusted her head so her mouth would be on Ingrid’s temple, pressing a light kiss before whispering in her ear.

“Let me be here for you, Ingrid. Please.” she pleaded, voice full of love. Her hand gently ran up and down the taller woman’s back, soothing her.

She could feel Ingrid was exhausted and that it wasn’t the right time to talk. So instead she took her hand, softly leading her to the bathroom. The soft orange glow of the light cast a light on the green tiles, somehow making Ingrid’s eyes more vibrant. The Spaniard couldn’t resist and leaned in to share a gentle kiss with the emerald eyed woman, and her heart fluttered when she felt Ingrid smiling. Maybe everything was going to be fine after all.

“Would you like to take a shower? That could make you feel better”, she said with serious care. The taller woman nodded, still too hazy to properly speak.

So Mapi had slowly started undressing her, her fingers moving delicately to remove all of the tissues. When she was done, she stopped, frowning, until Ingrid had squeezed her hand, eyes pleading for her to stay.

She washed away any signs of distress from the Norwegian. She massaged the dark haired woman’s head, applying shampoo with a soft pressure. She lathered her in soap, making sure to place a kiss on any body part who was still tense under her fingertip. The amber eyed woman had cared for her in such a gentle manner Ingrid swore her knees would have buckled if Mapi wasn’t holding her so steadily.

The bed squeaked under her weight, but all Ingrid could think about was how much she had missed this. Everything about her life with the Spaniard had been filled with tenderness, and the total switch up she had made when she started pulling away had been brutal. She reached for the pillow on her lover’s side and nuzzled into it, and she was filled by the warmest woodsy aroma, the same coming from her clothes. She was certain that they were also from the Spaniard. Her eyelids heavy from all the stress, she allowed herself to close them, slowly sinking into sleep. Only truly relaxing when Mapi also slid in the bed, pulling the Norwegian so close she was almost on top of her, wrapping her arms around her waist. Ingrid snuggled up into her neck, both of them falling asleep instantly, finally together.

In the morning, when the birds singing and the soft morning sun had lit up the room, slowly waking up Ingrid, a part of her had wanted to sneak out and leave, too ashamed to face what had happened the previous night. Until she realized how tightly Mapi was holding on to her. The claws of her need for fleeing were still digging in her throat. But she found that, in Mapi’s embrace, maybe it wasn't as strong as she thought. It was still there. But Ingrid wouldn’t run away this time, she’d stay. Because Mapi was worth fighting every storm life would throw at her. She’d learn to swim in the deepest oceans, she’d learn to let Mapi throw her a life jacket, and she’d take it. Their relationship was worth it. Maybe with time, Ingrid would learn that she was worth it, too.

Instead of leaving, Ingrid inched closer and kissed the freckles on Mapi’s nose.

#mapi león #mapi leon #ingrid engen x mapi león #ingrid engen x mapi leon #mapi and ingrid #ingrid engen u are so lucky #ingrid engen #hurt/comfort #they're in love your honor #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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ornii · 1 year ago

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Jealous? Me? No…

Illyana Rasputin X Male Reader

So I finally watched The New Mutants yesterday, and I gotta say, it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either. An okay Marvel film in my opinion, however Anya Taylor-Joy absolutely killed the role as Magik. And the idea of a Reader who also had a relative in the X-Men and is believable, gave me an idea, and this was it.

The relationship you had with Illyana was particularly hard to define. You wouldn’t call her your girlfriend, but she is also more than a friend. You sensed a Kinship with her ever since your, outburst. It sounds small but it resulted in the deaths of a lot of people, I suppose that’s what happens when a Mutant tried to live a normal life. Having the same genetic system as The Wolverine, it gave you nearly all the same powers, including a deep primal rage that could erupt at any time. Thus, leading you to being hospitalized.

Dr Reyas had an interest in you particularly, it seems only one Successful clone of Wolverine exists; you. Or so they think, you know of one more, Laura. Keeping her secret, keeping her under the nose of the Government was of utmost importance. Everything with Illyana was fine, she was being her usual self, rude, condescending, and just an overall ass to you and everyone, but it didn’t bother you. Everything was fine, until Dani made her appearance. A new challenger enters Illyanas game, and she doesn’t like it.

You and Illyana were watching Dani sleep, granted you two were outside the room, watching though the faded glass. You couldn’t make out any physical differences in her. She looked like your average teenager, maybe her powers are more psionic. You rubbed your chin and Illyana spoke. “I bet Pocahontas will try to run the moment she wakes up.” She said, almost to get a rise out of you, to see your negative but passionate response but you were simply thinking, blocking her out. She noticed your lack of response and turned to you. All your attention wasn’t on her anymore, but on this new girl.

“(Y/n).” She said with that stern Russian accent, it snapped you out of your trance and you finally looked at Illyana, as much as she annoyed and overall pissed you off, her beauty was unmatched, blue Iris, long gorgeous blonde hair like a brick road to heaven, and an accent that commands respect but has such a alluring tone.

“What?” You say, “You gonna bully this one too?” You say, Illyana smirks, finally getting your attention. “Depends, you seem to be infatuated with Pocahontas.” She said, you finally responded to her obvious jab and shook your head.

“Real fucking funny.” You mutter. “A new girl winds up here and you’re already jealous?” You said, Illyana kept her smile, but deep down she was starting to get annoyed.

“I don’t get jealous.”

“Then you won’t mind me saying hello.” You reply, and reach for the door handle, and for a moment you saw a short glimpse of panic in her eyes, as you gripped the handle, the voice of God spoke to you.

“(Y/n), remove your hand from the door.” Dr Reyas said from the intercom, she was watching, always watching. You reluctantly removed your hand. “Please gather in the main foyer, our daily session begins in 10 minutes.” She says, you look at Illyana and shrug, putting your hands in your jacket, you walk off. You and Illyana enter the room to Roberto, Sam, and Rahne, the other tree stuck in this place. It seems that there were only two chairs left, oddly enough, both seats end up with you next to Illyana. Reyas sits before you all, and starts.

“Yesterday, I asked you to think about… the first time your mutation manifested. Would anyone like to share? (Y/n)? Sam? Illyana? Roberto? Rahne? Look, we can’t help each other unless we talk to each other. I’ve said this a hundred times. This program can’t help you if you refuse to participate. So, Rahne, why don’t you start?” She said, Rahne was a short girl, pixie cut and had a soft Scottish accent, she wasn’t as feminine as most girls, but she had her own charm.

“I…” she started, but Dani, the new girl walked in, sulking.

“Please join us, Dani. This is our new patient, Danielle Moonstar. Let’s do our best to make her feel at home. Go ahead, Rahne.” Reyas said, (Y/n) shrugs and stands up and takes another chair and places it further in the circle.

“Take a seat.” You say, and sit back down, Dani awkwardly sulks next to you, and Illyanas eyes dart from her Hand puppet to you.

“Right. I was 13. I remember running through the woods.” Rahne began.

“How did you feel?” Doctor Reyas asks.

“Free. Like, the most free I’d felt my whole life. But guilty, too.”

“Why feel guilty?” You ask, “You get a turn into a wolf, that’s fucking sick.”

“Because I knew it was bad. I went to Reverend Craig… to see if he could pray it out of me. He asked me to show him, so I changed.” Rahne continues..

“And what did Reverend Craig do?”

“Beat me about half to death. Said I was a witch… that I was going to hell.” Rahne looked so, hurt. You reluctantly sat up from your seat.

“Would anyone else like to share their first time?” Reyas asks, and Illyana decides to turn to heat up.

“New girl. How fucked up are you?” She said, turning the ire on Dani, you turned to the Girl.

“Illyana.” You said, a bit of a grumble.

“Drugs, I bet. Or a nympho, maybe..” she kept pestering. You then decided to raise your voice.

“Cut the shit okay?” You said, The Russian turned to you, seeing your face and found an odd sense of pleasure in it. Reyas takes hold of the situation.

“Keep behaving… exactly like you are right now… and we can all just spend the day in solitary. I want all of you to think very carefully… about how you’d like to use your time here. And how long you want that time to be. (Y/n), since you’re already up… why don’t you show Dani around?” Reyas orders. You stood up, still locking eyes with Illyana.

“Yeah, sure..” you said, and looked over to Dani. You offered your hand to help her up and she took it, she stood up and you began to walk around, showing the new Girl around, that was a mistake.

Night has crept up to you all much sooner than expected, you were preparing to turn in for the night, finishing up clothes duty, the sudden sound of a clank of metal caused you to put the towel down and then around, you half expected death, but it was much worse.. Illyana.

“Oh, it’s you… gonna keep bullying Dani for whatever reason?” You said, but she wasn’t her cocky, overbearing self. She pouted and folded her arms, and asked a single question.

“Do you like her?” She asks, the question blindsided you.

“What?” You responded, and Illyana slowly approached.

“Do you like her? You act like you do..”

“I .. I don’t get it why are you upset?” You said, which causes her to finally just spew her feelings. “You are so fucking dense! Do you not notice anything you big dumb cute plyushevyy mishka?!” She yells, it took you less than a minute to realize she’s pinned you to the wall. Her arm now armored and placed near your head, as she leaned in, her lips barely brush up against yours.

“YA lyublyu tebya, Rosomakha.” She said, your mind translated the words.. “I Love you, Wolverine.” Your hands almost instinctively wrapped around her waist, much to her shock. Your lips pressed firmly against hers and her powers almost activate due to a high sense of, emotion. And it seems you two fall together, to her happy place.

Jealousy, from what I heard it runs in the Family…

(This was just a short thing I wanted to write, Definitely want to make more New Mutant Content, we need more of it.)

#male reader #marvel #illyana rasputin x male reader #illyana rasputin #new mutants #reader x Marvel #jealousy #x men comics #xmen #magik #Magik x Reader #magik x male reader #Ornii

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6ixtoru · 5 months ago

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POMEGRANATE SEEDS ᝰ S. GOJO

w.c 319 ꒱ fem! reader

ᯓ★ satoru stilled in front of the woman, bated breath caged though the particles were eager to brace beyond his human confines and greet the person who’d entranced him, but unfortunately restrained at bay.

Sight infused with cerulean which displayed a delicate bloom of strength and alchemy for guaranteed victories faltered to her plump lips inked with deep rouge, the matte stain velvety beneath the pad of his thumb.

The precise swirls permanently engraved into the small surface of said finger, attempted to smudge the shade outside its premises, curious to witness the intimate contrast of scarlet deface his pale flesh, even if it were a minimal amount and faint.

His infatuation encouraged a slightly heavier weight against the fullness of her coloured mouth. Another swipe tried to disrupt the opaqueness; an inner plead it taint his own skin; so the pigment caved to such a cry.

“Will you kiss me?” She simply asked, the question tender yet obtaining a heaviness he was being ushered to address.

Satoru remained silent, aware her preposition in actuality offered an invite for him to be defaced with a hue beyond primary colours already existent.

The rosy cloud now imprinted against the canvas of his thumb humoured him, as their past intimate conversations bestowed beneath her deep lip tint and crammed within the small crevices plunged with colour embraced the patch of heat his caress had radiated.

He leaned in.

An internal promise once the two taverns (an abode to their formulations of romantic vocabulary) merged highlighted his utmost devotion to his alter, as he desired his teeth to be stained the same shade next, so his eternal pledge he shall be entwined to the woman whose lips were a balm to his aching soul could be blatantly seen.

“Consume me.” She softly pressed.

So Satoru obliged, his desire-fuelled consumption a tarnishing of faded red swatched across his pristine portrait, now his lover’s soul a permanent stain.

a/n: reblogs and hearts appreciated

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #drabble #gojou satoru x reader #stqrlverr #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk drabbles

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ssa-neeks-prentiss · 10 months ago

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Heyyy bestie🥰 hope you’re well, I was wondering if u could do an Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader! Maybe where you and Emily are friends and she had a crush on jj, and when jj kisses will (🥲) she’s upset and goes to try and distract herself with a one night stand with reader, and Emily explains she wants it to be purely casual, but towards the end they end up falling in love? Idk if that makes sense or is stupid ahah! Ily 🫶 😘

Eclipse

Note : This is my first ever request so I hope it fulfills what you had in mind <3

Emily Prentiss x reader!

Summary : The sun and the moon. Only able to meet in a phenomenon. An eclipse.

Tw : Mentions of suggestive content, 'unrequited' love, hurt with comfort

Word Count : 1k

You smiled softly as you comforted a Emily. The two of you had just met Will.. JJ's boyfriend.

You had known for a while about Emily's infatuation with JJ.

You gave her the utmost empathy you could. You understood what it felt like to like someone who so clearly liked someone back. It was only silent comforting as the rest of the team was still there with them at the bar. Surprisingly, no one else knew about Emily's little.. Well, very large crush on JJ. They were profilers but couldn't sense a relationship in the team even if it was right in front of them. So much for being good profilers.

But that also played in your favour. That meant no one had noticed your crush. Your crush on the woman you were currently comforting. It wasn't the most ideal situation you wanted to be in. But honestly, as long as you were with Emily you didn't mind.

As the night neared, you offered to drive Emily back to her house. She gladly accepted and as you drove her back, she spoke about wanting a distraction. You hadn't really been listening, being more focused on the road than on Emily. You had simply hummed and agreed to do whatever she wanted.

And as she hungrily presses her lips against yours, you truly realized what she meant by a distraction. Well, fuck.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It had been a couple of days after Emily's.. Distraction.. And you had been awkwardly avoiding her. She had already told you she wanted it to be casual. And you respected that, even if it wasn't what you wanted. But as you had said before, any time with Emily was time well spent.

It had happened again and again. Now, you were avoiding her. You couldn't handle a full conversation with her knowing that you liked her and she only wanted it to be casual. It was breaking you from the inside.

You had sometimes referred to yourself as the moon. You wanted Emily, the sun, but the sun always cared for the earth more. JJ. But the moon never stopped loving the sun. Not even when every last star went dim. Because, maybe, there would be a chance where the sun would notice the moon.

A phenomenon.

An eclipse.

But an eclipse was rare. Which is why it's a phenomenon. And those who see are blessed, they deserve to see it. And you don't. You are not blessed. You do not deserve it.

You don't deserve Emily. Emily deserves JJ. And so you will do anything to make her happy. Even if it means destroying yourself.

And you so just so. A little piece of you is destroyed with each kiss. Each casual kiss. But you keep going. You keep going for Emily.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Hey, Y/N?"

You look up with a hum as Emily calls your name.

"Yeah?"

"Can.. Can I talk to you?"

You frown as you try to think about anything you've done. Has she figured out about your feelings? No. You've been careful. Does she want to break whatever little fling you've got on? Hopefully not.

You just nod and give her a tight lipped smile as you stand up.

"Course."

You follow her into the empty break room. You stand by the wall as she shuts the door.

"I want to talk to you about something."

You nod. Wanting to hear more.

"Yeah? You can tell me anything, Em." You spoke, hoping that your voice was as casual as you wanted it to be.

"I know I said I wanted what we had to be casual.. But I.."

You attempted to put the pieces together in your head as she spoke but you just couldn't, what did she want? It didn't sound like a break up kinda thing per say. But you were still slightly pessimistic on what it could be. But you were cut out of the daze when Emily just blurted out what she was hinting.

"I like you!"

You froze. What? How? You voiced these thoughts.

"Huh? What? How? Why?"

You could see a panicked look on her face as she turned around.

"Oh. It's nothing. Sorry, you can just forget about it."

She was about to walk out of the room when you grabbed her wrist.

"Wait! No! I mean, I like you too. But.. Why me? What happened with JJ?"

She looked up surprised.

"JJ? I don't- I don't like JJ anymore. I thought you figured that out when I stopped talking about her?"

You thought back. That made a lot of sense. For the past few months, JJ has been nowhere in your conversations. You had just assumed it was because JJ was a touchy subject. But you repeated your other question.

"Why me?"

"Why you?"

She echoed. As if it was the most absurd thing to ask.

"Because you're you. You're so pretty. And.. You care so much."

You didn't listen to her rambles as you tried to gather your thoughts. Emily likes you. She.. Likes you. She likes.. You?

You smiled. Well, it was more of a Cheshire Cat grin. You pulled her out of her rambles with a kiss. It was different than the other times. It was soft, full of gentle passion rather than hunger. It was.. Amazing to say the least. And as you pulled back, her eyes spoke the words she couldn't make out. She felt the same as you.

All those piece you had thought were destroyed. The pieces of your heart you had given to Emily. She had given back. You smiled softly. Maybe the moon did get the sun.

A phenomenon.

And it happened to you. And you didn't feel as if anyone else deserved it. Because truthfully. No one else did.

You then thought. If this was how phenomenons were, then you knew why they were so rare. Why people would die to see one. You would certainly die for this if you had know this was how it was like.

The moon and the sun together.

A phenomenon.

An eclipse.

#emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x y/n #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #unrequited love #hurt/comfort

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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/@brooke_enns/video/7348849476393536811

Could you do a Lance blurb where reader finally gives birth to their third girl and after hours of labor, Scotty and Chloe take Margot and Addalynn to visit the reader and meet their sister and they are fascinated by her while Lance records everything and then sends the video to both his parents as well as the reader's

When arranging your birth plans, Chloe and Scotty volunteered to look after your girls when the time came for you to be in the hospital, easing your worries. As soon as the contractions became clear that they weren't Braxton-Hicks, you asked Scotty to pick the girls up before you called the OB, driving to the hospital so babygirl number three could come earthside.

"Are you excited to meet your little sister?", Chloe asked the girls as she walked up to the hospital with them, Scotty heading in the front so he could give the lady in the reception desk all the details they'd need to go up.

"Yes, I can't wait to meet her!", Addalynn said and Margot nodded, "me too, and I can't wait to see mummy and daddy, too", she smiled.

"Remember what we told you, okay? Inside voices because people are healing and resting, and no jumping onto mummy, okay? She'll be sore for a few days now", Chloe recalled, waiting on the side as her husband waved at them to join him.

"Are they awake?", Margot asked Scotty as the elevator went up, "I'm not sure, princess, your daddy might be, mummy perhaps, and your sister is probably asleep", he replied, "That's true, babies sleep a lot", Margot agreed.

Lance opened the door for them, letting then in after kissing the top of the girls' heads, "hey, loves", he said, pulling out his phone to record the moment and send it to your parents and his parents since they hadn't yet been to visit.

"Hey, my loves", you cooed as you saw your daughters as they stepped closer to the clear bassinet, looking at the bundled up baby inside. Like Margot predicted, she was asleep, a cute pout on her face along with her squishy cheeks.

Margot gave her a cute little wave while Addalynn just marvelled at the new baby in the family, "can I touch her like this?", your now middle daughter said as she rubbed the blanket covering the baby's tummy.

"You can, and you can touch her like this", Lance said as he let his finger wander from the baby's forehead to her chin, "gently - yes, just like that, clever girls", he smiled as both Addalynn and Margot touched the baby with the utmost care and patience.

"Have you guys decided on her name yet?", Chloe said as she hugged your shoulders, accepting it when you patted the mattress beside you and sitting next to you.

"Yes", you smiled. You had been torn between two names, but when you looked at her, Lance knew which one was the one, "Genevieve, Viv for short", he announced.

"It's pretty, I like it", Addalynn said, Margot still infatuated with the baby, "she looks like the dolls we have at the house", she whispered and jumped slightly when the baby moved, making a small noise before becoming still again other than her breaths, "she's so cute, mummy", she said.

"Yes, you three girls are the cutest", you smiled.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lance stroll blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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korpuskristae · 1 year ago

Text

Jasmine and Rose - The Smell of June

Warnings: Mild swearing

Pairing: Severus Snape x Female Reader, Reader uses she/her pronouns

Word Count: 1500+

Summary: Severus handles his class with the utmost decorum… definitely…

Tag List: @likoplays (If you want to be tagged in the next chapter let me know!)

Part 1 Part 3

AN: Sorry for the abrupt ending of the last chapter but it was wayyy too long to post by itself, if I hadn't posted at least some of it I probably never would have posted it in the first place, I was a little intimidated by the length lol. Anyway, this is still inspired by the song Jasmine and Rose but I wanted to suggest another Sev song because I can go on for days about music I think he'd listen to/that describes him.

I love this song but I prefer the full-length version, if you like it, go listen to it!

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ☆ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Read on AO3

Having written the instructions clearly on the blackboard, he stood at the front of his classroom waiting for his students to settle in.

And so they did, eager to get the lesson done and over with.

“Today we will be brewing Amortentia, it is not a difficult potion to master but many of you may struggle with keeping on task, time is precious when brewing, and improper time management can lead to disastrous consequences,” he drawled, abruptly starting the lesson.

Flicking his wand, the board flipped sides displaying a detailed history of Amortentia and its properties. “Amortentia, also known as the ‘Love Potion’, is among one of the most dangerous potions you will ever come across in my classroom.”

“It does not cause one to fall in love with another like many of you have been led to believe, instead, it causes obsessive infatuation that may border on insanity,” he continued reciting a summarized version of the board with practiced ease.

Pausing, the potions master spoke carefully in a much more severe tone to drive his point home, “Improperly brewed Amortentia can result in a number of severe negative results such as psychosis and irreversible insanity, so take care to follow my instructions carefully.”

Continuing on, Severus walked over to the bench in the middle of the classroom used for demonstrations after he placed his wand on his desk. "The smell of Amortentia varies from person to person, manifesting as whatever attracts them most,” he lit a match and ignited a flame underneath his cauldron.

“Due to its potentially dangerous nature, it is one of the very few potions that is controlled and highly regulated by the ministry,” he said monotonously, setting his station up and arranging the ingredients accordingly.

“Pay close attention to my demonstration, I shall only show you once.”

As disliked as he was, the students couldn’t deny how mesmerizing it truly was to watch the Potions Master work. Truly a master of his craft, his simple elegance, efficiency, and unwavering confidence when handling ingredients enraptured all who watched. While he could be just plain mean sometimes, he was never unfair, his standards were never unachievable, just high. In truth, he only wanted the best, to see his students succeed, if they weren’t given high standards they’d just expect everything to be handed to them.

He’d be damned if he taught a generation of children to be like James Potter.

Admirably, he held himself to those same standards, abandoning his wand at his desk while he was brewing, managing his time expertly, and taking care to handle every ingredient delicately just as he expected of his students.

Once the water in the cauldron reached a rolling boil, Severus adjusted the flame accordingly. Adding in some powdered moonstone, he slowly stirred the mixture before adding powdered ashwinder eggs in too.

“The potion requires the usage of pearl dust, powdered ashwinder eggs, and powdered moonstone meaning you all will have to make use of your mortars.” Motioning to the mortar and pestle he used to grind up the ingredients before class, he added the pearl dust.

“Rose thorns and petals are used in this potion to represent the many sides of love, the beautiful, prickly, delicate, and complex are all acceptable answers for future written tests. I have supplied you all with a single rose, harvest the ingredients separately, like so,” holding the rose upright, he stood it up straight on the table taking his florist’s knife to gently rid the stem of its thorns.

“Once the thorns have been collected and added, cut the stem from the rose as close as you can.” Pausing to chop the flower from the stem, he held the flower up for the class to see. “Once you have done so, take the rose and twist the remaining attached stem, this will free all of the petals in one go,” holding the rose petals up, he showed his students before placing them aside in a bowl.

“Add them in slowly so as to not overflow your cauldron and then lastly add some mint before setting the potion aside to brew for three minutes. If you have followed my directions, you will be rewarded with spiraling steam and an iridescent appearance.” Flipping the board back over to the ingredients side, he walked over to his desk to grab his wand before returning to the demonstration bench.

Severus stopped dead in his tracks once he caught a whiff of the potion. Momentarily losing his signature stoic composure, he uncovered the potion with a confused expression. Removing the lid, the potion looked absolutely perfect, as expected of a potions master of his caliber, it was an easy potion to brew after all.

And yet…

It smelled different.

His Amortentia smelled different.

Severus Snape, the man hopelessly in love with Lily Evans, the man who would do anything for her, was now the man who no longer smelled her in his Amortentia.

But Severus Snape was never a man to show any sort of weakness, he was the type of person who would grin and bear it… if by grin you meant scowl.

Gesturing to the cauldron containing the Amortentia, he inhaled deeply assuming his unfeeling persona, “This is a properly brewed Amortentia, note the vapor and the iridescent pearl color.”

Clearing his throat, he slammed the lid down on the cauldron quickly before extinguishing the flame “Begin. I expect a carbon copy of this very potion by the end of this class period, I shall walk around and monitor you should you need any assistance.”

He was calm, composed, and under control, one would even say he was having a completely normal reaction.

He spent nearly the entire class berating his students for the smallest slip-ups.

A Hufflepuff for sneezing and blowing his powdered moonstone everywhere, a Ravenclaw for following the book’s instructions rather than the ones he wrote on the board, a Gryffindor for being… well… a Gryffindor, and perhaps the most surprising, a group of Slytherin girls for talking about spiking their crushes drinks with the potion.

Shockingly, for the first time ever in his own classroom no less, Severus took points from his own house.

Nobody in the classroom, or the castle for that matter, dead or alive, had ever seen the Potions Master so angry.

By the end of the class, only three students out of the seventeen in his classroom produced potions for grading and only one of them was awarded a passing grade.

Not even Dumbledore, upon hearing about the incident, dared to confront the Potions Master.

Instead of having to face everyone and answer people’s incessant questions, Severus opted to sulk in his office rather than go to dinner in the Great Hall. As a result, the students were able to freely discuss the events of the day’s class without fear of reprimanding.

And here he was now, the talk of Hogwarts… yet again.

He effortlessly found the small bottle of Amortentia he kept hidden in the store room behind some spirit of nostalgia. Although he’d rather die before he admitted it, Severus too was prone to moments of weakness.

Whether it was plain sadness or alcohol-induced psychosis, he found comfort in the smell of Lily.

In truth, he had no idea why he kept the bottle around, once post-drunk clarity hit him or he snapped out of it, he found himself feeling ashamed and pathetic for allowing himself to find any sort of solace in Lily’s memory. He deemed himself unworthy of any comfort since he was at fault for her death.

Nevertheless, the bottle remained hidden in the back of his personal storeroom, not once did he even come close to disposing of it. As twisted as it was, it was the only thing he allowed himself to have, a respite from his raging guilt.

Uncorking the bottle, Severus held it at an arm's length before shakily bringing it up to his nose and sniffing it.

The sybaritic aroma of jasmine, rose, and ambrosia flooded his senses causing him to stiffen and suck in a sharp breath.

It was uniquely your scent,

sensual and erotic while remaining subtle and tantalizing at the same time.

He was no fool, he was far from one. He knew what this meant. He hadn’t meant to let you weasel your way into his heart, and yet, there was the irrefutable evidence that you had, right in front of him.

“That insufferable, conniving, wench!” He growled slamming the vial of Amortentia down on the shelf before storming out of the storeroom.

Who was he angry at? It seemed unreasonable to be angry at you and yet here he was, angry at you for making him fall in-

No.

He wasn’t in love, he wouldn’t use that word. He wouldn’t delude himself into believing that he was capable of feeling love or even capable of mentally handling it if he could feel it.

This was a realization he knew even alcohol wouldn’t dull the sting of, he knew better than to get drunk after realizing his… predicament anyway, lest he act like a drunk fool professing his so-called “love” to you.

Instead, he opted to barricade himself in his chambers, far away from the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts. Hoping to find a rare moment of solitude to collect his rampaging thoughts.

#Spotify #severus x reader #severus snape #pro snape #snapedom #snape #pro severus #snape fandom #professor snape #harry potter fanfiction #snape fanfiction #snape fic #alan rickman is SO HOT #UGH THAT MAN IS HJKASDFGJKLAGEFJK

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mimisempai · 4 months ago

Text

It's never too late to love 2/2

Chapter Summary

The day of the date has arrived. The two men are full of insecurities, but fortunately they have precious friends to set them straight.

Notes

Thank you for all the wonderful feedback on the first chapter. This is just the first in a series of stories in which we follow our two lovebirds as they develop their relationship.

On AO3

3511 words - Rating G

Several times in the morning, Iruka had to stop himself from contacting Kakashi to make sure they would have dinner together tonight, so unreal it seemed.

If Iruka was honest with himself, he hadn't felt such anticipation since... since... in fact, it was probably the first time he had ever felt like this.

He had had a few affairs when he was younger, but never anything very serious and more of an exploration than anything else. And once he had realized that what he felt for Kakashi was more than just infatuation, no one else had really held his interest and, it was probably silly, but he would have felt like he was betraying his heart. So he had resigned himself to a life alone, to pining for the ninja from afar.

He had watched Kakashi when he had the chance and just like his outfit, it was easy to see that the ninja had many layers and that he only showed what he wanted people to see.

He often hid his kindness and seriousness behind a casual demeanor, but if you looked closely, as Iruka did, you could see it.

So last night had really surprised him with how direct Kakashi was and for the first time, Iruka had wanted to take a risk. To do more than just watch from a distance without touching.

Iruka was also a man of the flesh, so of course, in addition to being attracted to Kakashi's personality, he couldn't deny that he was also attracted to his physical features, and more than once, Iruka had wondered what it would be like to have Kakashi's strong arms around him.

A light tap on his window brought him back to the present and he saw that a carrier pigeon had landed on the ledge.

He took the message the bird was carrying in a small case around its neck, gave it some seeds and unfolded the piece of paper.

Iruka-sensei

Recognizing Naruto's chicken scratch handwriting, he continued to read.

I have something to tell you that is of the utmost importance. Could you come to my office (my Hokage's office, hehehe) at noon?

P.S. Don't forget to stop by Ichiraku before you come.

Iruka couldn't help but chuckle. This Naruto. He hadn't changed at all.

Iruka looked at the time and saw that it was a few minutes before noon. He put on his jacket and left his house to go to Ichiraku. There, he bought two bowls of ramen and asked Teuchi to be generous with Naruto's favorite toppings, then a few moments later, he knocked on the door of the new Hokage's office.

"Come in!"

Iruka entered the office and said with a playful twinkle in his eyes, "Hello, Nanadaime-sama."

Naruto had already stood up and exclaimed, “Iruka-sensei!”

Then he frowned when he realized how Iruka had greeted him, "Oh, please, there's no need for formalities between us."

“So drop the sensei, okay?”

Then Iruka handed him one of the bowls which Naruto eagerly took before he invited Iruka to sit down in front of him at his desk.

Naruto inhaled the soup and exclaimed, "Aaaaah, I'm alive again. Thank you. And thank you for the double portion of toppings."

"I thought you could use a little comfort. But you said you had something important to tell me."

Narutos grin did not give him a good feeling.

The Hokage said to him in a conspiratorial tone, "I hear you're having dinner at Yakiniku Q with Kakashi-sensei?"

Shocked, Iruka asked him, "How do you know that?!"

"I am the Hokage. I know everything."

"Narutooo..."

Naruto replied amused, "Well, you know that my advisor is Shikamaru, and Yakiniku Q has always been the headquarters of Team 10. The owner is practically family, so when Shikamaru came by this morning and greeted her, she told him that she was very surprised that Kakashi had reserved a table for himself and Umino Iruka."

That was the problem with villages where everyone knew everyone. It was impossible to keep a secret and rumors spread faster than the fastest ninja.

Iruka rolled his eyes and muttered, "Wonderful, I guess everyone knows..."

Naruto replied with a half-smile: "Uh, not Shizune. And not Choji either. But then again, if you wanted to keep it a secret, you should have booked somewhere else."

He wasn't wrong, but first of all, it was difficult to find a restaurant that wasn't in Konoha and not too far away, and at the same time, it was a bit like neutral territory, both of them would be in a familiar environment for a first date.

Wait, it was a date, right?

What if he got the wrong idea.

Kakashi hadn't mentioned a date...

"Iruka? Are you okay?"

Naruto had put his hand on his forearm and looked at him with a slightly worried expression.

Iruka reassured him, "Yes, yes, everything is fine," before he added as if to himself, "I'm just a little out of my comfort zone and I'm asking myself a lot of questions, but I think I'll figure it out tonight."

"Figure it out?"

Iruka shook his head and replied, "Nothing, don't worry."

As if Naruto had sensed his uneasiness, he changed the subject and they continued to eat their ramen in a light-hearted atmosphere. When they finished, Iruka collected the empty bowls.

"Well, I guess you don't have an extended break and duty calls, so I'll be on my way."

"Thanks. That was great. I'd like to do it more often."

Iruka winked at him.

"Just send me a message like you did this morning."

"Deal."

Iruka nodded, then turned to leave the office, but just as he was about to walk out the door, he heard Naruto say softly, "I'm happy for you. I hope you have a nice evening."

Iruka was touched and stuttered a thank you before he left and quietly returned to his home.

Once there, he decided to take a short nap so that the time would pass more quickly and he could forget for a moment the questions that were bothering him about the upcoming dinner.

What he didn't know was that another ninja not far away was going through the same emotional rollercoaster and asking almost the same questions.

After a light lunch, Kakashi had picked up a book and was now leaning against a tree in his garden, lost in his reading.

"Oh, I see you are reading Icha Icha Tactics, are you trying to learn how to seduce me, rival?"

Kakashi looked up to see Gai hanging by his feet from a branch, giving him the dazzling smile that was his trademark.

"Not even under the threat of a kunai would I want to seduce you, I'm sorry, but you're absolutely not my type, Gai."

"Yes, yes, I know, your type is a kind and sweet teacher from the ninja academy."

He let himself fall from the branch and came to sit next to his friend, then he nudged Kakashi with his shoulder and added, "And I have the impression that things have changed since yesterday, huh?"

Kakashi narrowed his eyes and asked in a neutral tone, "What do you mean?"

"I might have heard from Tenten and Lee, my dear students who had a boozy night yesterday, that Kiba told them that he saw Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei looking very intimate in front of the latter's house."

Gai finished his speech with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

Kakashi replied, "They were drunk, they don't know what they saw or heard.

Gai replied with a smile, "But there's nothing to be ashamed of, my old friend is not too old to enjoy the flame of youthful love."

Kakashi rolled his eyes as his friend launched into a grandiose speech of his own and, no longer listening to him, thought about the upcoming date.

Because it was definitely a date, wasn't it?

Wait, what if Iruka had only agreed to please him because Kakashi had insisted. After all, he hadn't wanted to come for a drink before and - "Hatake Kakashi, my eternal rival, you will do me the favor of not thinking about what you are thinking."

Gai looked serious now as he continued, "You're wondering if it's a date, what Iruka's motives are, all the questions I know you're asking yourself just because you're actually afraid."

"Me, I'm afraid?"

"Oh yes, you are afraid. And your threatening look won't change my mind. You are afraid because you have something to lose, because Iruka could see behind the mask. And do you know what you have to do?"

Kakashi said dryly, "Go ahead, tell me, you who have all the answers."

Gai replied simply, "Forget the games and be honest. From what I know of Iruka, he's the right person to do it with."

"What if he doesn't like what he sees or learns?"

"I think he sees you more clearly than you think. You behave differently when you're with him."

"I don't feel different."

Gai gave him another nudge.

"Rest assured, I can see it because I've known you for a long time."

Kakashi, feeling uncomfortable because the discussion was getting too deep, asked mockingly, "Since when are you an expert in romantic relationships?"

"It's an area where I outrank you, my rival, and I don't need Jiraya's novels to know about it."

Kakashi hit him on the head with the book in retaliation, causing his friend to burst out laughing. It had the merit of lightening the mood and Kakashi felt a little lighter.

Gai stayed with him for a good part of the afternoon and thanks to his antics, Kakashi did not have to lose himself in speculation about the upcoming evening.

Iruka glanced at the wall clock for the tenth time in five minutes, complaining to himself that the time did not pass any faster as the meeting time approached. However, this did not stop him from jumping when he heard a light knocking at the door.

He grabbed his light jacket and went to open the door, greeting Kakashi with a broad smile.

"Good evening, Iruka."

"Good evening, Kakashi."

Iruka was about to put on his jacket when Kakashi took it from him to help him put it on.

Touched by the gallant gesture of the other, Iruka said gently, "Thank you.

"You're welcome. Shall we go?"

Iruka bit his lip and then said hesitantly, "Before we go, I'd like to ask you something."

Kakashi nodded.

"I'm listening."

"Is this a date?"

Not expecting such a straightforward question, Kakashi's instinct was to answer, "Do you want it to be?"

But he immediately changed his mind; he didn't want to play this kind of game, no pretending, no guessing, no half-truths. As Gai had said.

Kakashi said in a clear, firm voice, "It's a date."

There was no doubt about the look of relief that crossed Iruka's face and Kakashi knew that he had been right to choose the path of honesty.

With a slightly twisted smile, Kakashi said ironically, "There is only one problem."

Iruka, looking perplexed, asked, “Which one?”

"It's been so long for me, I don't know what to do anymore."

Iruka chuckled slightly before replying, "Well, at least we're on the same side. We will both make it."

The two men laughed softly, both amused and relieved.

They had only taken a few steps towards the restaurant when Kakashi muttered, "Is it just me, or do I feel like we're being watched?"

Iruka chuckled and replied, "Well, the news of our... date has been reported to the Hokage, so I'm not surprised."

Then his expression became serious again and as he moved away from Kakashi, he said quietly, "Unless you'd prefer that people not know."

Kakashi approached him, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and said teasingly, "I think it's too late for that, and besides, I was the one who invited you here, wasn't I?"

A few moments later, the restaurant owner led them to their table, and they were pleased to see that it was an isolated table that would allow them some privacy.

From then on, the dinner passed like a dream. They talked, open and honest in their questions and answers, realizing that even though they had known each other for a long time, there was still so much they didn't know about each other.

They had just finished their dessert when Iruka suddenly stood up and Kakashi saw him go to comfort a little girl who was crying a few meters away. Iruka wiped her eyes and kindly took her back to her mother, who had apparently been looking everywhere for her and seemed relieved to find her.

Then Iruka came back and sat down opposite him, apologizing sheepishly.

Kakashi put his hand on his and said kindly, "Don't apologize for being kind. It's not the first time I've seen you do this. Comforting a lost little girl. Helping a grandmother cross the street and carry her groceries. Taking a little boy out for ramen to cheer him up."

Iruka shook his head, "It's nothing special."

Kakashi, stroking the back of Iruka's hand with his thumb, said softly, "It's special to the person you're doing it for."

They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, aware that something special was happening, but unfortunately, the moment was interrupted when the owner coughed, making them realize that closing time was near.

Kakashi withdrew his hand and Iruka immediately missed its warmth and, not wanting to show it, reached into his pocket for his wallet when Kakashi shook his head and said softly, "I invited you, so I'll pay."

Iruka replied, "Then next time, it'll be on me."

When he realized the meaning of what he had just said, he was relieved and pleased to see Kakashi nod with a small smile on his face. There would be a next time.

"Actually, this time it's for me, gentlemen."

They looked up at the owner who added, "It's actually a gift from our new Hokage."

Iruka whispered, "Naruto..."

Kakashi winked at him, "At least that means he approves."

Then they thanked the owner and got up to leave the restaurant, noticing that it was empty now and that they were the last customers.

As they walked slowly towards Iruka's house, they were much closer than they had been earlier in the evening, and with each step, their shoulders and arms brushed against each other, but neither of them could bring themselves to make the gesture that would reduce the distance between their hands.

They arrived at Iruka's house and he opened the door before turning to Kakashi who said softly, "I had a great time tonight."

Iruka nodded and tried to say something but gave up, so Kakashi added, "Good night, Iruka," then turned to leave but couldn't because Iruka was holding him by the sleeve.

"Iruka?"

Iruka asked with a slightly hesitant voice, "Would you like a nightcap?"

Kakashi, who was not afraid to appear eager, immediately agreed and was rewarded with Iruka's smile before he turned to enter the house.

Once inside, Iruka told him to make himself comfortable and went to get a bottle of sake and glasses from the kitchen.

Kakashi saw some photos on a shelf and out of curiosity, he couldn't help but come closer to have a look.

He was touched to see the photo of the brand new Team 7 with him and couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his students' faces.

He murmured, "It's been such a long time..."

Iruka, placing the glasses and bottle of sake on the coffee table, replied, "And sometimes, it feels like it was only yesterday."

Kakashi hummed before joining Iruka on the sofa and taking the glass he held out to him. He raised it and said, "To an evening that continues to be excellent."

Iruka laughed slightly, then stopped when he saw that Kakashi turned his head slightly to drink without removing his mask.

"Kakashi... you don't have to answer if you don't want to talk about it, but... why do you wear that mask all the time?"

Kakashi lost his smile, put down his glass and stood up, turning towards the window.

He heard Iruka approaching and the younger man put a hand on his shoulder before saying in a soothing tone, "I'm sorry Kakashi, I didn't mean to..."

"You... you have the right to ask the question. First, I started wearing it because people kept saying I looked like my father, and not in a good way, as you can imagine, given his history. Then I kept it for a more ridiculous reason. I think myfaceistoosoftwithoutthemask."

He had said the sentence so fast that Iruka hadn't understood anything.

"What? You have to repeat it."

"I find my face too soft. It doesn't fit my image." Then he added with a self-deprecating tone, "It's okay, you can laugh."

But Iruka didn't laugh and put his other hand on Kakashi's other shoulder, pressing lightly and making him turn around.

He asked gently, "You know me. You even said that I am kind. So you know that I wouldn't make fun of you. Won't you show me?"

Kakashi shook his head slowly and said in a low voice, "I don't want you to see me differently."

Iruka raised his hand and placed it gently on Kakashi's chest before saying, "I'm sure I won't."

Then he raised his hand even higher and placed it gently on the other man's cheek, adding in the same soft tone, "Kakashi, I want you to kiss me and I don't want you to do it through a piece of cloth."

Kakashi let out a long sigh before he whispered, "All right..."

Then Iruka placed the tips of his fingers on the top of Kakashi's mask and asked gently, "May I?"

Kakashi swallowed before nodding slowly.

Iruka gently slid the mask down and Kakashi instinctively lowered his head. Iruka placed a hand on his cheek and made him raise his head, saying softly, "Don't hide from me, please."

Iruka's face was so close to his that Kakashi could not doubt the sincerity he read in his eyes and heard in his voice when Iruka said softly, "Stunning."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Kakashi hugged Iruka and held him close to his chest, not caring that the mask had slipped to the floor.

Iruka in turn wrapped his arms around Kakashi's waist, waiting a few moments for Kakashi to calm down before gently pushing him away. Then he raised his hands to frame his face and with his eyes fixed on Kakashi's face, he smiled and asked, " May I now have my kiss?"

Kakashi, his voice still a little hoarse with emotion, replied cheekily, "I've shown you my face, I'm the one who deserves a reward."

Iruka chuckled softly before he moved Kakashi's face closer to his own and, narrowing the distance between their mouths, gently pressed his lips against the other man's.

It was only a light touch at first, but the feeling of Kakashi's lips against his was enough to overwhelm Iruka with emotion. Kakashi slid his hand along Iruka's neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Iruka parted his lips in response and Kakashi's tongue slid along his lower lip, sending an electric chill down Iruka's spine. As Kakashi's tongue continued to explore his mouth, Iruka's every sense seemed to awaken and he felt almost dizzy, clinging even tighter to Kakashi's shoulders.

Sensing how overwhelmed his lover was, Kakashi pulled back a little so they could catch their breath. Then, as if he couldn't help himself, Iruka brought his lips closer to Kakashi's again, caressing them with another kiss.

They kissed like this for several long minutes, not trying to go any further, content to enjoy the kiss, their lips and bodies touching, getting to know each other, becoming familiar.

Much later, without really knowing when they had moved, they were catching their breath on the sofa. Iruka cuddled up to Kakashi, his head on the other man's chest as Kakashi ran his long fingers through his lover's hair, marveling at how soft it was.

He said softly, "I will repeat what I said earlier, I had a wonderful evening."

Iruka laughed softly against his chest and, feeling bold, replied, "Let's hope it's the first of many."

Kakashi, of course, heard the slight uncertainty in his lover's voice and replied in a clear voice, pulling him closer, "Don't doubt it."

He felt Iruka smile against his chest as he snuggled even closer.

Kakashi should have felt vulnerable, somehow exposed in a way he had never been with another person and yet he had never felt so strong and he knew that it was thanks to the man he was holding in his arms.

A man who had no idea what a treasure he was.

Pressing his bare cheek against his lover's soft hair, Kakashi promised himself that he would show him again and again just how precious he was.

Chap 1 - Chap 2

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

#naruto #naruto shippuden #iruka umino #kakashi hatake #kakairu #kakashi x iruka #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #getting together #falling in love

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acefantasyy · 2 years ago

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Can we get a short drabble or hcs of reader having their first kiss with Eriks? Imagine your hands in his hair, his stubble tickling your jaw..: (I’m so normal) IMAGINE HIM HESITANTLY PUTTING A HAND ON UR HIP (HANZ IM SO NORMAL)

✦- Eriks x gn. reader

✦cw. none, 98 Eriks coded but also trimax coded as well, just some kissing that's all

✦note. thank you @chris-continues once again for feeding me Eriks content :). we're so normal about this man I swear. there's some small little headcanons at the end about how kissing him would be like and stuff, enjoy.

✦word count- 629

••

Oh absolutely there’s so many possibilities but lemme throw a little back thought I have before the kissing <3

•Nervous. so so nervous. That's all I will say when it comes to giving your first kiss to the guy you’ve been infatuated with for over two years. There had been a confession said to Eriks with it being reciprocated but nothing more happened as he had left to finish something important that needed to be done. That had been months ago but now here in front of you stood a tall dark haired man claiming to be the man you loved which left you utterly confused because your eriks had long blonde hair the last time you saw him. Your suspicions are quickly shut down though when the man quietly utters the nickname that you were given before Eriks had left.

• Anyways. Now onto what you came for :)

•In all honesty, who wouldn’t be nervous when having their first kiss, it could be from being excited because you’re giving it to someone you care for or whether the first kiss would be good or bad. Both of those were part of the reason for your nervousness but the main reason was because of how incredibly handsome Eriks was being in such close proximity with you, especially now that he no longer sported the long blonde locks you were used to him having and instead now had short raven hair.

•The buzzing of blood rushing to your ears distracts you from hearing what the raven haired man says to you before he’s swooping you up into his arms and pressing a soft kiss to your lips that’s warm and inviting but as soon as it’s there it’s gone. It’s honestly the most gentle and sweetest feeling you’ve ever felt before and it’s the utmost purest thing ever and it leaves you wanting more. As soon as he begins blubbering out an apology you’re quick to silence it as you tug him back down to your lips for another kiss, your arms winding around his neck and into his pitch black locks bringing a surprised noise from him in response.

•I feel that when Vash finally decides to settle down with you back in the town where he met you he’d probably start going by Eriks once again. He’d keep his hair short but maybe would let it start to grow out again as time passes and gradually begins to grow stubble again and will let you maintain it to how he likes

•As for kissing he’s always going to be kissing you in some sort of way at almost every hour of the day and is always saying how your kisses are his source of energy to get through the day and that it’s vital that he gets at least 20 kisses a day. And as annoying as it may sound you always give into his request and smother him with his kisses he oh so dearly needs.

•I know for a fact that he would teasingly rub his stubble against your cheeks or even neck when he kisses you, the prickly feeling sending you into a fit and trying to get away from his attacks

•His kisses are always warm and inviting and are the softest, they can leave you feeling bubbly when you least expect it. He’s almost always going to have himself wrapped around you somehow, whether that be his arms resting around your waist or around your neck, there are times where he likes to mix it up and dip you while he kisses you.

•Loves to blow raspberries when he kisses you, especially when the two of you are laying down with you on top of him.

✦tags.

#ʚ. —𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 #trigun x reader #eriks x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader

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jaim-inhothekid · 1 year ago

Text

⎈ 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

[ W.C ! ] : 1.5k

[ Summary ! ] : Usopp has been having those vivid dreams about being part of a pirate crew. A certain person starts to appear in his dreams and can't seem to leave his thoughts. He never expected to find them during class a random day. | GN!Reader ; Modern AU

⌗ ✎ Author's Note : This was originally a trade fic for one of the members of my one piece discord server!

Usopp always had his head up in the clouds, a fertile imagination, as his mother would call it. Smiling fondly and nodding along to the crazy stories he would make up on the spot, she would gasp and cover her mouth in disbelief when his tales took an unexpected turn, laugh at the funny parts, wipe her eyes and pout solemnly when a tragedy was told. Always so expressive and genuine, Usopp inherited her best traits. Spontaneity is one, if not the most important, attribute of a storyteller.

Usopp always had a particular fascination with pirates during his childhood. He bragged and boasted about being a brave warrior of the sea, with a fleet of over eighty-thousand men, captain of the most notorious crew to ever grace the seven seas – the usopp pirates, they were called. A plain black shirt that didn't fit him anymore turned into a flag, the jolly roger sloppily painted in gouache, sheets turned into sails held by the cable of a broom he took from his mother to use as a mast – and would deny vehemently to know where it could've possibly gotten. Sat on the deck, the headboard, Usopp would reunite all of his crew mates, his plushies, and set sail for the most wild of adventures all day long, until 10pm because he couldn't go past his bedtime.

He grew out of it with time, as it was never more than a childhood phase of playing pretend. Though the childish wonder about pirates was something that was never quite forgotten, Usopp would catch himself daydreaming about certain scenarios – about a life of utmost freedom and adventure. Maybe his infatuation came with the desire of putting himself in the world, leaving a mark, feeling like he mattered. Usopp wanted to be brave and adventurous and so so much more, acclaimed like king or praised like a God – or just knowing that he was an important part of something that wouldn't be quite the same without him, in that case, a crew.

He thought of the sea, which could be equally terrifying as it was beautiful. The tangy smell of salt in the air, the crash of the waves against the hull of the ship, the steady swaying of it as it navigated through the waters. He thought of all the possibilities that the waters had in store for him – the ocean only had roughly 5% of it discovered by humanity, did it not? What exactly disproves the existence of creatures lurking in its depths? Monsters bigger than he could imagine, with nothing to compare their size to, areas that have never been navigated through, places that have never even been drawn into maps– okay, pause on that thought, it's starting to get disturbing. The pirate fantasy would really lose its spark if Usopp managed to give himself thalassophobia by overthinking the dangers of the sea.

It's been a while, about a month or two, that his imaginations seemed to reach their peak. He even started to dream about them, vividly so, and things like that didn't happen since he was a little kid. He thought about college and that it was probably the culprit of his head being even further into the clouds than it already was on a regular basis. He was getting closer to the week of finals, after all.

However, his dreams started to feature a new element ever since, and for that, he had no explanation. Said element was a new person, with eyes like shining rhinestones – that reminded him of the brightest starry sky he could think of, beautiful like diamonds, and just as unforgettable To his frustration, Usopp would always wake up before he had the chance of asking for their name, and to his anticipation, he knew that he would see them again once his drowsy eyes fell closed when his head hit the pillow.

Mx. Mystery, as he decided to refer to them, became the main character of his mind. With their beautiful smile and contagious laughter and tooth rotting sweet disposition that left him feeling all tingly as a dumb smile tugged on his lips. Staring off the windows of his classroom with them on his mind, replaying the dream he had the previous night, feeling giddy about what scenario would he dream about with them tonight when he got home–

“Excuse me,” came a voice next to him, “Is this seat taken?”

Usopp immediately turned his head to the source of the voice, ready to reply… but no words came out. Everything he could've possibly have said died in his throat when he saw an unmistakable face with a familiar pair of gentle eyes.

Eyes…

Huh?!

That's them!

But… wait, what?

The person of his dreams…!

He blinked up at them, and then at the seat… oh, right, he put his bag there. “Uh, n– no! Um, sorry, let me just–,” Usopp stuttered, laughing awkwardly as he took the bag into his lap and wiped the seat clean. Why did he even do that? He was so weird when he got nervous “There! There, uh, it's free”

Mx. Mystery didn't seem to mind him stumbling over himself, as they wordlessly flashed him a sweet smile and sat themselves in the seat next to him, offering him their hand for a handshake “I'm Y/N” they said, and it was like Usopp finally got the final clue for a mystery he spent his whole life trying to discover.

“The name's Usopp,” he said, a smile of his own stretching over his lips, more confident this time “It's nice to meet you”

Conversation flowed easily with Y/N, and he honestly barely paid attention to the lesson at all while they were by his side, they talked about anything and everything – each word that left their lips got him over the moon, he never met someone who had so much in common with him! He wished for this specific day to last 72 hours minimum because he didn't want to phantom the idea of having to bid them goodbye.

As they talked, Y/N told him all sorts of things about themselves to which he reciprocated by telling them more about himself as well. Y/N was in their first period of college and recently moved cities because of their scholarship, Usopp clung onto every word they told him about their major and why they chose it. Usopp told them about how he was born and raised on a small island near the beach and was a graphic design major. He was currently working on a personal project for a comic book – about a pirate kid who ate a magical fruit that gave him powers, but in turn, took his ability to swim.

“Imagine living in the sea and not knowing how to swim!” Y/N laughed, their cheek resting on their fist as they propped up their elbow on the desk “That's really ironic"

“I know!” Usopp nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, grinning proudly as he could get the whole point of it across “That's why I wrote it”

“Y'know, sometimes I have these dreams about being in a pirate crew. It's kinda weird”

Usopp paused, and in that moment, it was like the whole world paused along with him.

“... I don't think it's weird”

Their conversation didn't stop there. In fact, they seemed to have even more to talk about after that point. They had so much in common that Usopp couldn't help but wonder where have they been all his life, that it felt too good to be true, that it looked like he was still imagining things– until Y/N tugged on his sleeve, nodding their chin towards the door, the class ended 10 minutes ago.

“Hey, do you know the little coffee shop down the street? The one next to the Skypiea building?” They asked, already jumping out of their seat as they urged Usopp to do the same.

“Are you kidding?! I love that shop!”

“Really!? Oh my god, me too!”

And so they went, walking side by side, fingers shyly brushing against each other with every step, growing closer just to steadily grow apart again. For some reason, they grew quieter as they walked off the campus – eyes meeting, a mutual searching for something, and then looking away. The silence stretched uncomfortably as they exchanged those glances, searching for familiar traits in one another.

Usopp had the sudden urge to ask about the dreams. He cleared his throat, puffed out his chest – and then thought it over, and a third time. Would they think he's a weirdo for it? It's a possibility because dreaming about the same scenario is one thing, but asking a person you just met if they also dreamed of you was bordering on crazy. But also, he felt like he needed to say something about it, anything. He glanced at Y/N from the corner of his eyes, immediately looking away when he realized they were looking first, his cheeks felt hot. Get your act together!

Deep breath, don't think about it, he turned to them to speak his thoughts. Y/N seemed to have the exact same thing on their mind when he turned to them, because their mouth was already open and words were spilling out of it, coming in unison with his own.

“I think i saw you in my dreams”

#one piece #one piece x reader #usopp #usopp x reader #my stuff !!

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