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#its the deep all encompassing LOVE
semisolidmind · 15 days
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idk if the internet has finally rotted my brain, but dogday gives me subtle yandere vibes 😳
that's because i can't seem to help but write my leading fellas that way. even when i don't actually want them to be, they always end up just a liiiiittle bit yan-coded.
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planete777 · 4 months
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I WANT YOU BAD・⁠。♪ LN4
( lando norris x fem!reader )
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IN WHICH. y/n (and a good joint) is lando's best distraction. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, drug use (as per), unprotected p in v, riding, lordddd they are filty, dirty talk, squirting, high hotness pt 345345, lando is in love with the reader (as per pt. 2), guys it's just filth filth filth
NOTE. yoohoooo im soo back!!! first fic release after like 3 months haha.... but it's high!lando so, forgive me plz 😔🙏 anyways, i'm slowly getting back into the groove of writing (i only wrote a tad bit during my break smh) and im sorry if im a bit rusty. hopefully, its only up from here. enjoy my dearest readers, and feedback is always welcomed <3
SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍
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there's a gentle, warm thrum that bubbles beneath lando's skin, like a premise of excitement, tendrils of smoke tearing and stitching sentience with sluggish countenance. doesn't see a thing beyond a feet before him, and can't feel anything (yet feels everything) sauf the familiar radiation of body heat from the girl pressed limply into him.
two things for the price of one, it barely gets better than this. he feels like a magic act, cartoonish smears of smoke coalescing, then dimming as he inhales and exhales and inhales again. every taut stress from the day slowly flakes off his muscles, and succeeding another drag of the joint, he lets a gentle sigh huff out of him.
"better now?"
y/n's voice sounds like soft lace in his ears, and she snuggles closer into his shoulder, hand splayed, and weighty, upon his chest. she feels completely dead, always getting too high too fast, but never lets the warnings rid her of the euphoria. lando knows that, and can't blame her either; there's something unequivocally beautiful about getting high and losing the ability to connect one thought to another.
he shifts- he thinks he does so- rolling the spliff between his fingers before curling his lips to push out the smoke that began to scratch striations into his throat.
"yeah," he drawls out, "never go wrong with a good spliff."
y/n just barely giggles, palm rubbing up and down lando's chest. he swears he's on fucking fire, neurones charging and buzzing and crackling at every heightened numbness, and all he can do is take another drag.
there's a blanket of silence, comfortable and observing, before lando feels her, wantonly, drag her hand over his crotch then squeezes; and, jesus fucking christ, the moan that's punched out of him is ungodly.
"y/n- fucking hell," he leaves it at that, slowly swivelling his head towards her. she's smiling, largely and so gorgeously that lando feels like he's levitating. why is she looking at him like that?
"wanna fuck you, lan'," she whispers, redundant because it's already so damningly filthy, "make you lose your shit."
lando is struck speechless and completely horny, blood swelling his cock to where it edges pain, but god, does it feel so fucking good that all he can do is moan and tighten his grip on y/n's thigh sprawled across his body.
she smirks, sitting upright and slides to straddle lando, hips grinding heavily into his and the pressure is glorious.
"you like that, huh?" she bites her lower lip and presses harder, lando's head lolling to the backrest of the armchair. he could cum right into his pants if his motive wasn't to do it deep into y/n's cunt instead.
"you know i do, baby," he takes another drag, doesn't know how he musters the effort to, "you riding me is a sight."
she giggles, "just staring at my tits as i'm doing so, you fucker."
lando shakes his head, "nah, i meant all of you, baby. so beautiful," then he's smiling and pulling her into a kiss that's just tongue and want, lando gripping a hand around her nape. he can die like this, he thinks, encompassed in the feeling of a throbbing dick and a sloppy, wet mouth— all of it.
y/n curls her fingers around the hem of his joggers, lifting her hips- their lips still attached- and sliding them down his thighs. cool air caresses his cock, pulsating, weeping and redder than she's ever seen it before, lando moaning at the relief as it slaps against his abdomen.
"oh lan' look at you," she whispers, wrapping her hand around his cock (the way he squirms at that is indescribable), "you need my pussy that bad?"
it's all faux concern, but it does the trick, lando nodding and on the verge of sobbing when she clenches her fist.
"come on- fuck me, y/n," he's whining and squirming, hands grabbing at her shorts to tug it off after wedging the joint between his lips. she stands up, lando's hands trailing away as she goes to slide them off, crumpling at her feet. and all lando thinks is mylovemylovemylove. his skin burns like he's being dipped in lava, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.
the girl wastes no time crawling back into his lap, hovering over his erect cock as she takes both hands, spreads her cheeks and sheaths him in.
"y/n- ohh fuckkk-"
the slide— it's so so good, lando's losing his mind, he wants to ask 'no prep?' but fuck, she's taking him so well that he just shuts off. he pants roughly, eyes squeezing shut as she whines and bottoms out, feeling deeper than he has ever been. he's tingling everywhere, a shaking a hand plucking his spliff out of his mouth and unto the couch, feeling y/n's tight, hot pussy grip him with every inch of its life. and just when he thinks it's nearly too much, she starts to move.
y/n grinds and bounces like a fucking pornstar, shirt and bra she had on a few minutes ago strewn somewhere in the room, tits jumping and nipples swollen. oh, it's such a view and as much as lando wants to keep watching, a spark of pleasure causes his eyes to hurl to the back of his head, body flushed deeply and mouth slackened as it leaks a thick moan.
"your cock, lan'- shit, i'm gonna cum so hard," y/n's voice sounds so ruined and lando is obsessed with it, eyes opening as he gives her a small smirk. hands run all over her body- her legs, her breasts- before settling on her ass and languidly dragging it up and down his cock. y/n's reaction is immediate, trembling and crying out a high pitched moan that almost has lando cumming right there.
"i want you to cum so hard, baby. this is your cock," he huffs, hips thrusting upwards and slapping against y/n's ass. the sounds make his mind go static; it's so filthily good, skin hitting skin.
y/n smashes her lips against lando's as she works her hips harder, feeling the cold metal of his chain bind to chest. they can barely kiss, panting into each other's mouth- then lando's cock stabs her g spot, hard, and she's screaming and cumming, liquid running between her thighs and cunt squeezing lando so damn tight, he's pushing her hips into his, yelping, and spurting cum, thick and warm, into y/n.
"fuck fuck fuck- oh god baby, just like that," lando speaks into her skin, "just like that."
he rolls his hips to ride out their highs, pleasure setting deep in his veins before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, leaning back.
"fuck, i love you," lando whispers, pressing kisses into her shoulder.
"even when i squirt all over you?"
lando smirks, placing a kiss on her lips, "especially when you squirt, baby.
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futureman · 6 months
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a matter of time
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel can't remember the last time he took things slow and let himself feel. you give him a gentle reminder.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, late boston qz era, joel's pov, smut, porn with a twist ending, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, slow/intimate sex, finger sucking, premature ejaculation, nostalgia, internal monologue, tess doesn't exist
word count: 2.4k
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It's been a long time.
Joel's all but forgotten what it feels like when it's this gentle. There's almost a tenderness to it, even though he doesn't know much of anything about you at all. Not your name or how you ended up here in this hellhole of a safe haven.
Nothing but the sweet, tacky taste of your 20-year-old Lip Smacker gloss and the tang of sweat and something sweeter lingering on your skin. But he's learning.
And he likes this new knowledge. Even if he never gets the chance to use it again, he'll devour it hungrily because it's a worthy distraction from the monotony of life in a quarantine zone. Day in and day out, he returns to this shitty apartment with its peeling floral wallpaper and rotting mahogany furniture—memories of a distant past that aren't his own and, yet, sting just as viscerally.
Tonight, the space hums with a different energy. Highlighted by the soft rays of the setting sun, the room's only purpose is to serve as a backdrop to you, and that alone changes everything. Your beauty, your responsiveness, as he lays you across his moth-eaten duvet is reminiscent of a different time, and he'll happily accept that reminder.
It's one of the few pieces of nostalgia that doesn't ache or eat away at him the longer he lets it in. No, you feel good. You're warm against his fingertips, soft and pliant under the path his lips follow from the sticky smear across your cheek, past the breath hitching audibly in your bared throat, down to your soaked, coarse curls.
You want him. More than that, you want to take your time with him, and he's surprised at how much he wants that, too. Trapped within these walls, what else does he have but endless, empty time? And there's nothing he'd love more than to spend it taking care of you, just like you asked him to.
He hovers above you, refusing to part his lips from your body as he urges you up the bed to rest against his pillows. They're flattened and scratchy from years of use and abuse, but they smell like him, and you like it. He can tell. The moment your hair fans across them, rich and lively in contrast, you bury your face into the fabric to breathe him in, and your body's reaction is instantaneous.
Your back arches with a heavy sigh of contentment and your legs fall apart naturally, welcoming him closer, but he waits. Reverently, he slowly leans back onto his heels to appreciate the sight in front of him, and he can't help but feel grateful. You're already glistening for him, preening under his undivided attention as your delicate fingers trail up to your breast to tweak a nipple.
As your eyelashes flutter and a gasp escapes your parted lips, his hand quickly drops to squeeze his twitching cock over his boxers and he keens, nearly doubling over at the pleasure that overcomes him. A coy, knowing smile quirks at the corners of your mouth, and he decides he needs to taste you again. Now.
He lurches forward, and you let out a surprised squeal as he licks into your mouth and commits to memory the faint taste of artificial root beer and mint on your tongue. The familiar fight for dominance he's so used to after years of quick fucks and one-night stands isn't there, and, instead, you set a languid, passionate pace that makes his head spin. It's a slow, deep caress—wet and warm and all-encompassing—and it's everything he hopes fucking you will feel like.
He's so hard it hurts. God, when was the last time he was this fucking hard? He's leaking messily through his boxers, desperate to be touched and enveloped and claimed.
And how could he not be? He's kissing the perfect woman. A patient goddess who's leading his hands across every inch of bare skin, showing him exactly how you like to be stroked and gripped, sighing encouragingly when he heeds your lessons just right.
You're one hell of a teacher, and he thinks he might just be your favorite student. He separates from you with a lewd smack and a string of saliva keeps you connected for a fleeting second before you lean up to lick it off his bottom lip. Your eyes lock with his and they're dark, almost completely consumed by desire, and it's further encouragement to continue on to his next assignment.
This one might just send him over the edge. You guide his hand down to cup your wet heat and you're drenched, dribbling and smearing slick patterns onto his sheets that he'll probably trace with his tongue while he jerks off to the thought of you long after you're gone.
Bathed in the dwindling embers of twilight, your silhouette—the plush slope of your breasts and soft curve of your belly and thighs—is cast around the room in artful shapes and shadows, and he wishes you were a permanent fixture. That your visage covered these walls instead of false depictions of growth and life. It's a dangerous train of thought, but he's too lost in the haze of your warmth and wetness to think about anything else.
He needs to feel you. He needs to fuck you.
He barely even realizes he's already slipped inside you as if he's been there all along, stroking your walls with the rough tips of his middle and ring fingers and honing in on that hidden, spongy spot with such precision, you'd think he'd done it a million times before. Thick, cording veins strain against his forearms as he tenses with the effort of keeping his thrusts long and purposeful, and he watches, captivated, as your cunt sucks him in greedily and fruitlessly tries to hold him inside you.
Tight—fuck. You're so tight. He's bucking into his unoccupied hand, jerking himself off over his boxers, and he doesn't remember when he started, but he can't stop. It feels too good...you feel too good, and the steady, simultaneous rhythm he sets for both of you isn't nearly enough.
Faster. Harder. Still so goddamn tight. He'll never be able to stretch you out enough to take him, and he's starting to worry he'll cum before he even gets the chance to try. His cock throbs violently against his palm, and he bites back a groan at the vision beneath him. Christ, how did you get here?
You can't possibly be real. Your thighs are quaking on either side of his waist and your pussy clenches dangerously hard around his scissoring fingers. There's a thin sheen of sweat matting the wispy hairs around your temples and pooling everywhere your body connects with the mattress, your searingly hot skin an addictive, sticky trap he willingly and faithfully succumbed to.
And those sounds.
You need his cock. Fucking hell, you need it. Greedy, patient, needy fucking woman. He can hear it in your soft pants and hitched breaths. You're quiet and subtle in your pleasure, so unlike any other woman he's ever been with, but when you whimper—fuck. Fuck.
He's going to give it to you. Right now, after taking the time to map and explore and discover, he's going to use his newfound knowledge to hollow you out, then fill you up until you're overflowing with him.
He slows to a stop and pulls his glistening fingers from your cunt, and there's that faint, perfect sound again. A stuttered, broken whimper that lilts with each knuckle that catches on your entrance. He sucks his ring finger into his mouth and adds your taste to his list of all-time favorites, right alongside your Barq's root beer-flavored lip gloss.
Then, he offers you his middle finger, and he swears he can feel your lips sealing tightly around his cock as you wrap them around it. You work your mouth up and down, bobbing your head eagerly like he's about to blow his load down your throat, and—
He's going to fucking cum.
With his finger still nestled between your lips, he wrenches his boxers down his thighs and lines himself up with your entrance, ignoring how close he's suddenly teetering on the edge. His balls are already taut between his legs and it worsens as he inches in his aching, neglected tip.
"S'time, beautiful," he grits out, still tender in his touch as he splays his hand across your waist to stroke your heated skin. "You ready for me?"
You nod quickly, humming your affirmation around him, and he gives you another shallow inch. He was right. No amount of preparation was going to ease the stretch. You're gripping him so hard, it almost hurts, and the thought of how tight you'll be when you cum—he feels delirious with it.
Yes. Yes. Squeeze him. Let him feel you wringing him fucking dry. Let him pump you so full of his release, you'll be dripping him for days, an intimate, lingering reminder of this night. You have no fucking idea how long he's been waiting for this, for you. He doesn't even know your name, but that doesn't matter. Right now, all that matters is this.
This deep-seated, unspoken connection. It's been a long time. And, right now, his time is up.
He slides home in one long, deep thrust, the tip of his cock tenderly nudging your cervix, and your body struggles to accept him. He lights up every nerve ending like a live wire, drags against every sensitive pressure point in perfect succession, and your walls begin to mold around him as if they recognize the sensation. Like your body's remembering him.
Sharp nails dig into his side and drag from his shoulder down to his ass, urging him closer. You're trembling beneath him, your breasts thrumming with sharp, rapid breaths akin to a hummingbird as he fucks you further up the bed, one slow thrust at a time. You're fluttering around him, a delicate spasm and, then, an indicative clench, and it forces a sob from his chest that he barely recognizes.
That's it, beautiful. It's right there. C’mon, give it to me.
He doesn't speak it aloud. He hasn't coaxed or rushed you with his words this entire night and he's not about to start now. He knows, for some inexplicable reason, that he doesn't have to.
But you do. It's barely a whisper—a single, hushed syllable that trembles and passes your lips like a plea. A prayer only he can answer.
"Joel."
Christ. He knows you.
Christ, he's cumming.
His vision whites out, and he's only vaguely aware of his tightening grip on your hips and the long, drawn-out groan that tapers into something devastatingly familiar. Your name.
Now, it's his turn to pray. He repeats it like a mantra, breathing it into your lungs as his lips crash onto yours. It's almost as if he's afraid he'll forget it again if he stops, but your body's response quickly convinces him otherwise.
You bear down on him harder, driven closer and closer to your peak each time he calls out to you, for you. You're molten hot around him, searing each letter into his skin with every pulsing clench of your cunt, and he does the same, thick spurts coating your walls.
He can't help himself. He stays deep—he knows he shouldn't, knows how dangerous the consequences could be, but he needs to—and your ankles digging painfully into his back to hold him in place wordlessly tell him you need it, too.
So good, you're so good. You're perfect. You're his. You're—
Gushing, squeezing, finally moaning for him. You’re cumming.
With it, your orgasm brings every memory of you flooding back at once. Late summer afternoons spent in bed while Sarah visited her grandma. Champagne-flavored kisses on New Year's Eve, soundtracked by Dick Clark and cheers from the crowd in Times Square filtering through the plasma TV in his living room.
He loved you. He loved this. He should've known the moment he kissed you, the moment he saw you, but he's been surviving for so long. He can't remember the last time he lived.
Your limbs surround him, pulling his entire weight down to rest on top of you, and you continue to swivel your hips into his pelvis, riding out your high as his name falls breathily from your lips. He works you through it, frantically blinking away the sudden blur that engulfs his vision so he doesn't miss out on another moment with you. Not ever again.
He's...he's crying. He didn't even know he was capable of that anymore. Sensitivity starts to set in, in more ways than one, but he doesn't want to leave the heat of your embrace. He thinks he might break at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and seeping into the undeserving fabric of his co-opted sheets, far away from where it belongs.
But, then, your lips meet his tanned, weathered cheek—a stark contrast to the young man he was when he was yours—and you kiss away his tears. He feels more fragile than he has in decades, and that's surprisingly okay. Because you're here to protect him, now.
Trailing from the apple of his cheek to his lips, up to the years of tension creasing his forehead, back down to kiss him tenderly, you establish a comforting repetition. He chases you every time you part, but, after a while, he's struck with a realization. What you've been trying to convey with your actions all night.
You always return to him. So, maybe this was just a matter of time. A slow smile spreads across that beautiful face he hadn't allowed himself to think about since the outbreak, and you huff out an affectionate laugh, your fingertips curiously running across his back and tracing raised lines and jagged shapes you've never felt before.
"Hi, Joel," you murmur fondly, still close enough for the tacky remains of your gloss to catch his bottom lip, and his tongue darts out to taste you.
It's real—it's too vivid not to be real. His eyes dart between yours, and he can still see everything your future together was supposed to hold. He still sees forever.
"Hey, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with tears and disuse, and something unidentifiable that sounds a lot like hope.
He hasn't felt this way in a long time. Not since you.
thanks for reading!
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bunicate · 6 months
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mimi i wud die for sum wrio incest ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ i need nii-nii to punish his lil sis when she starts actin up and disobeying ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ incest. fucking in leggings. calling your big brother daddy ? creampie. reader is described as small / 18+
i kept u waiting long enough and Im not sure but I may have strayed a witl bit from whut u said but still ! ! wrio-nii <3 muhehe . some icky thoughts and babbling below nonnie.
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believe it or not wriothesley doesn’t necessarily enjoy punishing his little sister, but that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to it, especially if you’ve been seeking a less-than-innocent reaction out of him. 
it crushes him to say it, but wriothesley knows that his chilling title as duke at the fortress of meropide doesn’t grant him the same freedoms as others. he’s an overseer, a self-appointed role that he carved himself. part of it is to maintain order; the other half is maybe to fulfill his own sentence and snuff out any remnants of the guilt he couldn’t shake off.
naturally, he’s a protector whose hands happen to be bloodied. if it meant guaranteeing the safety of his little sister, he’d fight his way through anything, even if it meant bruised skin and broken bones. to be at the fortress while you remained in the world above was, to say the least, hard, but he’s working around that obstacle.
its some days, like today ( though rare on occasion ) he takes a well-deserved break.
a long shower, a couple of hours in the at home gym to stay dedicated, and then he promises afterwards that he’s all yours. maybe a picnic, a stroll through the town, a shopping trip—whatever you set your sights on, he’d do it; he’d get it because he has the patience of a saint, but that just happened to be the one thing you lacked.
your attempts at seducing him were messily orchestrated. adorable, and innocent, and his cock strained against his sweatpants nonetheless.
wriothesley’s bare chest expands with each deep breath he takes, greedily sucking up the air to calm his lungs and beating heart after he drops his weight.
though away from the world below, he doesn’t stray from his regimen. even when darling little girls strut in loungewear not even appropriate enough to wear in their own homes, offer him water.
he downs it—gulps it incredibly fast and wipes the remnants of water that escape on the back of his hand. he sets the glass down, and he knows that water isn’t the only thing his body is aching for.
the clothes are practically second skin, your nipples are puffy and alert under your shirt from the air conditioning, and the leggings are tight enough to emphasize the chub of your lower lips.
“why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
it’s a silly question he doesn’t bother to answer.one foot behind the other, hands intertwined, you give him that a stare that reveals more than you let on. your tongue delicately swipes your bottom lip, and his eyes follow. he watches closely when your lips do that small bounce from the release of your teeth.
he wants to wipe that doe-eyed look off your face and rip the flimsy pants off. maybe even ruffle up your pretty pigtails, but you’d hate him if he did. yet, it’s only fair for him to tease in return, and wriothesley isn’t too keen on enforcing discipline. but if you want it so bad, he can’t see why he can’t be voracious just this once.
it takes him only a split second to wrangle your body to the floor and push your cheek into the plush mat. he’s pumped with adrenaline; his brute strength nearly knocks the wind out of you.
those fingers that you love so dearly trail down your hips and backside to finally press down on the seat of your leggings—right where your cunt sucked in the fabric. just two of his digits encompass the size of your heat, and they trace the sticky folds through the cloth. your grip on the mat tightens, bracing yourself for the inevitable.
he roughly rips open your leggings, the sudden exposure to air making you gasp. it’s a wide enough hole to display your plump ass and fat little pussy to his icy blues. such thick, succulent lips dressed in a thin layer of your slick that he wanted to lap up selfishly.
his large hand reels back and collides with the flesh of your butt watching it jiggle.
“hnn— !”
your body lurches forward on impact, and wriothesley flexes his thick arms to keep you still.
“shh, shh. s’okay.”
he rubs the fat of your butt briefly before landing another swift strike.
you squeal, “nii-nii! p-pleaseee !”
the arch in your back deepens, and wriothesley licks his lips in anticipation at your show of embarrassment.
“this is what you wanted, isn’t that right?”
he’s dizzy from the sight of your gaping cunt, and he can’t tell whether to spank it, fuck it, or kiss it first.
ultimately, he decides on spitting.
he puckers his lips, and a tiny glob lands right in the center of your pussy, and he eagerly stares as it disappears between your plump folds.
you flinch away reactively from the moist invasion, scrambling on the floor, but your brother overpowers you.
“come on, don’t run from me now, you little brat.” his hold on you tightens, forcing your ass higher up.
wriothesley begins to tug his pants down and pull out his heavy cock. it’s thick and drooling pre-cum from his wide tip, eager to empty his load inside your tiny hole. he gives it a few strokes and watches you wiggle your butt in excitement.
“put it in nii-nii. i'm so messy down there, so you don’t need’ta prep me. . .”
a manicured nail runs down your slit and separates your fold, and nothing but arousal webs across your twitchy cunt.
“fuck .” 
you are messy.
you’re dripping and creaming, and he’s barely started. he takes his own thumbs to spread your lips apart further, like he couldn’t believe it himself. your vagina thumps erratically, pumping out a bubbly, clear fluid. the squelch is disgustingly loud, and he has to fight himself from collecting the salty drops with his tongue.
he whistles in agreement.
“would you look at that? i guess you’re right. this needy cunt can take my fat cock. ”
he's holding his breath when he presses it against your quivering center.
“i always thought you were too little to take it, but your pretty pussy is more than ready for me.”
he rubs the softness of your skin in awe.
you turn your neck slightly to give him a shy smile. “mhm, s’ only for you. . but,” you shake your hips again. “could you put it in, please?”
slick was now stuck between your thighs, staining your already ruined leggings, and you felt dirty, but not enough to overpower the desire to be fucked by your older brother. you were practically humping the air in utter want, but wriothesley doesn’t match your urgency.
“i’m trying, sweetie, but—” the duke makes no effort—he wipes his sloppy mushroom head on your clit, dragging it in messy circles.
“nii-nii is having trouble.”
his pre-cum frothed into a cloud coating your already wet lips, and he hisses when your pussy briefly twitches around his glans. he nudges your opening teasingly but doesn’t bother to push his way through the tight seam.
he shakes his head in faux remorse.
“see, i guess you’re still too little after all."
you throw a small fit, “that’s not true! i can take it!”
he chuckles at your pouting. the hold on your ass digs into your skin as a warning to not get so worked up.
"then what do you suppose we do?”
he spits again, but this time on his shaft, and he drags his hand up just enough for his foreskin to cup the crown of the flushed tip.
"jus’ ruin it—force your cock in. .”
and he didn’t need to be told again.
two beautiful holes, a tight little knot that he can’t wait to split apart one day, and a wet and fat pussy. was he even strong enough to tough it out a little longer?
he looks up towards the ceiling, muttering a brief prayer. you just might kill him, but he's more than ready.
the tight fist around his member squeezes until a thick drop of white plops against the floor. his balls firm and round flutter with every gasp of air you take. his body is in sync with yours, and as soon as his tip pushes against your opening, it stretches—coaxing in his meaty girth. he pushes all the way in until he's sure he can’t go any deeper, and then pulls back out. his cock shines with your wetness, and he takes a few seconds to marvel at where your groins meet.
without warning his hips to mount forward, and he fucks you with purpose—to teach a lesson.
his pace is far from what you predicted; it's much faster and filled with a vigor you weren’t used to. your big brother prefers to handle you with much more care, knowing that you're just a delicate little thing, but he trusts you’ll get used to it.
you proved time and time again to be adaptable, so you keep your ankles crossed and your face down, smushed into the floor, while he uses your body for his own end. his balls, warm and taut, spank your clit unabashedly, turning the screw inside of you. a ring of milk forms at the base of his cock, and the friction pulls noises out of you you didn’t think you were capable of making.
you move to crawl away and put some distance, but wriothesley doesn't let you.
“nah, be still; let nii-nii use you. that’s what little girls are supposed to do, right?”
he laughs, maybe even out of disbelief. each time he tries to convince himself that it will be the last, he still finds himself forcing his cock inside his cock-hungry little sister. and your moans only elevate in pitch as you get closer to that edge.
“yesssss. ah !—hn—you can use me as many times as you want. m'your little stress toy!”
wriothesley grunts loudly. the sound of your lustful proclamations rattling his very being.
“I'm your little girl. keep fuckin’ me, please, nii-nii.”
he doesn’t want to stop.
the recoil of your round ass from the impact of his thrust is a view too otherworldly for him to separate his eyes from. his body accumulates more sweat, and he continues to deliver those fucks that pushes you harder into the floor. your leggings, other than the gaping rip, were thoroughly obliterated, and the mixture of fluids made the fabric darker and stickier.
“! m’almost there, keep going nii-nii. . . s-so close !”
a foggy cloud slows the whirrs in his brain; all of his thinking ceases, and the only thing he can focus on is finishing inside you. to empty his large balls of his salty seed and pull out more of those choked sobs out.
“s’okay baby. relax . i got you.”
“hnn-! hiccup . mmkay ! i love you s’much."
“yeah, nii-nii loves you too, baby. don’t fucking forget it.”
"i won't, d-daddy.”
he stills only for a moment before continuing.
“daddy ? what are you talking about, silly girl?”
he snickers in between moans and claps of skin. did he fuck you that dumb already?
“I’m your brother princess, don’t tell me you forgot.”
you pulse around his cock.
“mhm, but you’re my daddy too.”
he rolls his eyes and smiles.
“i guess i have a pretty daughter to take care of now,” he says and he’s rewarded with your cute mewls and noises of happiness.
he’d kill for you.
again.
he’s a man free of guilt when he’s the closest to you, and it’s why he feels no shame when he delivers one last thrust and pumps your pussy full of his hot semen.
you welcome it, feeling it fill your belly and it takes few minutes for wriothesley to separate himself from you. the minute he pulls out is when he feels robbed of your warmth, he feels naked but satisfied. his cock layered with thick cum fell limp between his legs and he feels relief that his balls were no longer aching with cum ; it was instead leaking from your puffed cunny.
his hands reached out to touch your sensitive pussy, squeezing it to watch the dollops of his seed drip on the gym mat. your legs shake in desire and it’s when reality sinks in.
you didn’t finish and wriothesley makes no move to get you off. he smirks, he’s sure that this time his punishment will keep you in line.
although, only for a bit .
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doormatty3 · 4 months
Text
Ocean Eyes: Chapter 1 (Orm Marius x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Ocean Eyes Masterlink
Summary:
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock
Wordcount: 4134
A/N: This is the first chapter for a (probably) 4-5 chapter fic
Also: Our boy Orm deserves some love so this happened.
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Normally, you actually like water; after all, it’s an integral part of your life as a marine biologist. 
You’ve spent countless hours immersed in the briny depths, studying the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. In the embrace of the watery depths, you’ve unravelled the secrets of hidden ecosystems, marvelled at the kaleidoscope of marine life, and witnessed the symbiotic dance between predator and prey. The ebb and flow of tides, the rhythmic movement of ocean waves – these are the elements that typically elicit admiration and wonder from you. 
However, this affection for water does not extend to rain, especially when it chooses to make an unannounced entrance when you’re out for a walk along the seaside.
As the heavens open up unexpectedly, you find yourself caught off guard, the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops on the sand disrupts the usual symphony of your thoughts. A muttered curse slips through your lips, a reflexive response to the inconvenience of precipitation, and you hastily reach for your umbrella.
The once-clear sky, a former blue sphere, now cloaks itself in shades of grey, as you struggle with the umbrella, desperately attempting to shield yourself from the sudden downpour threatening to soak you through.
“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath when you finally manage to open the umbrella before being drenched. 
As you trudge along the wet sands, your now open umbrella in hand, the lack of shelter becomes painfully apparent. The vast openness of the seaside, which had promised freedom and expansiveness, now offers no refuge from the relentless rain. 
The sea, once a source of inspiration, now seems indifferent to your plight, its waves crashing rhythmically as if mocking the irony of a marine biologist seeking escape from the rain. 
Amidst the relentless downpour, your attention is drawn to a solitary figure at the edge of the beach. Despite the bad weather and the onslaught of rain, the man remains unwavering.
His gaze is steadfastly directed towards the open expanse of the ocean. 
Even from afar you can tell that he’s completely soaked, his blonde hair clings stubbornly to his head, and his clothes adhere to his form like a second skin.
Intrigued by the enigmatic scene, you find yourself pausing in your own battle against the weather, momentarily captivated by the man’s unwavering focus. The rhythmic cadence of the rain seems to fade into the background as you observe the drenched stranger.
Curiosity propels you towards him, each step accompanied by the squelching sound of wet sand beneath your shoes.
Instinctively, you move closer to the man on the edge of the beach, extending the canopy of your umbrella to encompass both of you.
He turns around, surprise evident in his expression, as if awakening from a deep reverie. It becomes clear that your approach went unnoticed, his focus entirely absorbed by the vastness of the open ocean. The sudden shelter you provide seems to bring him back to the present moment.
As your gaze flickers over him, you find yourself inadvertently appreciating the details of his appearance. His smooth skin contrasts with a well-groomed stubble, and his piercing blue eyes hold a hint of depth, perhaps mirroring the expanse of the sea he was lost in moments ago. Expressive eyebrows, a straight nose, and pink lips contribute to an overall attractiveness that stands out even amidst the dampness and the downpour - perhaps the rain even intensified this as your eyes follow the path of a raindrop as it traverses his forehead and nose, eventually dripping from the tip.
Despite the adverse weather, it’s evident that he takes care of himself. The rain reveals the contours of a muscular physique beneath his soaked clothes. A defined chest, broad shoulders, and sculpted arms speak of a physicality that has weathered more than just the current storm.
A quiet “thank you” escapes his lips, accompanied by the subtle curve of a smile that plays on them. As he holds your gaze, his blue eyes reveal more than words convey. There’s an intensity in his look, a depth that suggests the weight of unspoken thoughts resting behind those expressive eyes.
As he breaks the gaze and turns back to the open sea, his presence lingers, all-consuming, and you find yourself unable to simply walk away. Instead, you remain rooted in your spot, holding the umbrella over both of you.
The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves draws your attention, each wave pooling onto the smooth surface of the sand before dispersing like foam. The ocean, in its relentless dance, momentarily recalls its waters, leaving behind a glistening trail of wet sand in its wake.
As you stand there, sheltered under the umbrella, the tableau before you becomes a canvas of contrasts – the vast expanse of the open sea, the ephemeral beauty of the waves, and the tangible presence of the stranger beside you. The sound of raindrops on the umbrella becomes a quiet rhythm, harmonizing with the natural symphony of the seaside.
It really has been ages since you allowed yourself to simply take in the beauty of the ocean and breathe. The thoughts of work, responsibilities, and the hustle of daily life seem to dissolve, rendered insignificant in the face of the vast, timeless expanse of the open sea.
Under the shared umbrella, the ceaseless rhythm of the waves becomes a soothing lullaby, and the salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs with a refreshing breath. The worries and stresses that usually occupy your mind are momentarily eclipsed by the sheer tranquillity of the moment.
With each inhale, you absorb the invigorating sea breeze, and with each exhale, you release any lingering tension. The rain, which was once an inconvenience, now feels like a gentle cleansing, washing away the mental clutter that often accompanies the demands of everyday life.
Normally, your beach walks are just a way to clear your head with familiar surroundings but nothing more than that. So you sift through your thoughts and you ponder the possibility of having seen the man before but his regal demeanour and striking looks leave no trace in your recollections.
Breaking the comfortable silence, you voice your curiosity, “I haven’t seen you here before…” He turns to you, fixing his intense gaze on your face, awaiting your words. “Are you from here?” you inquire.
A subtle smile graces his lips, a fleeting acknowledgement of your question. His hand glides over his chin, tracing the stubble that accentuates his features. Your gaze follows the motion, noting the details - the thickness of his hands, the length of his fingers, and the neatly trimmed nails.
“No,” he begins, and as if sensing your curiosity, he offers a bit more insight, “I’m from far away. I’m… just passing through.”
Despite the cryptic nature of his words, you find yourself captivated by the mysterious charm he exudes. His subtlety and intensity draw you in, leaving you with a desire to unravel the layers behind those enigmatic blue eyes.
“Well then, it’s nice to meet you!” you express with a genuine smile. Taking the initiative, you extend a hand in introduction.
In response to your greeting, he graces you with a full-blown, toothy smile that illuminates his face. His eyes sparkle, reminiscent of sunlight dancing on water, and the skin around his eyes crinkles with the warmth of the expression.
You… want to see that more often, you think. You’d like to be the reason for that infectious smile, to be the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes, and to cast away the haunted look that seems to linger within their depths.
“Happy to make your acquaintance,” he responds, his hand enveloping yours with a firm grasp. As his long fingers curl around yours, a subtle current of electricity prickles at the point of contact, and you find yourself missing his touch when he drops your hand.
“I’m Orm,” he introduces himself.
“Orm,” you test the pronunciation of his name, and you catch the flicker of his eyes as they briefly lower to your lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name,” you remark, your curiosity piqued. 
In response, he shrugs, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his features. “As I said, I am not from here,” he adds.
“If you ever need a tour guide, let me know,” you offer, extending a friendly invitation. His eyebrows raise in response, and you catch a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I know a few nice places… some even provide a better view of the ocean.”
As a gust of wind swirls around you, the dampness of your clothes coupled with the cold air sends a shiver down your spine, and goosebumps emerge on your skin. The sudden chill causes you to freeze, the contrast between the warmth of the moment shared under the umbrella and the elements outside becoming palpable.
In contrast, you observe Orm, still drenched but seemingly unaffected by the cold.
The offer to be his tour guide hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, a subtle fear creeps in. Was it too forward? Does he wish to cut the conversation short, politely concealing any desire to decline?
A sense of relief washes over you as Orm’s response breaks the brief tension. 
“That would be nice,” he says, his eyes straying back to the expanse of the ocean as if lost in thought.
The soft pitter-patter of the rain envelops you both in a cocoon, creating a serene backdrop to the moment. Despite the logical inclination to seek shelter and escape the rain, something within you resists the notion of leaving. A peculiar reluctance binds you to the spot as if an invisible force tethers you to Orm’s calming presence.
Standing beside him, you feel a sense of grounding and tranquillity it’s a sensation that you haven’t experienced before - well, if you’re honest with yourself, you have felt it before. It’s the same feeling you get near or in the ocean.
Maybe it’s his eyes. His deep, blue eyes seem to hold all the mysteries of the sea, mirroring the tranquil rhythm of the rain and the timeless expanse of the ocean.
____
A few days later you see him again and you find yourself back at the same spot.
Today, the weather is vastly different - there’s no rain, and the sun graces the scene with its warm glow.
As you approach the familiar location, the memories of the previous meeting flicker in your mind. You wonder how Orm will look in the bright sunlight - he had already been a vision when completely drenched.
When he comes into view, you find that he’s even more striking than before, 
He is clad in a basic black shirt and matching slacks, the fabric sits snugly on his broad frame, accentuating the contours of his muscular body. The sunlight enhances the contrast, casting a play of shadows that dance along the lines of his thick body.
The blonde hair, now dry and therefore lighter in the sun, is neatly combed back, reflecting the sunlight like strands of golden thread, creating an almost ethereal aura around him.
His gaze is fixed on the sea again. With his head held high and arms folded behind his back, there’s a regal air about him.
“Orm! Hey,” you greet him, genuine warmth in your voice as you approach, happy to see him again. As he turns around to face you, there’s a radiant smile on his lips.
The sunlight adds a gleam to his features as he returns your greeting.
“So, what do you want to see?” you ask Orm, eager to tailor the experience to his preferences. “Have anything in mind?”
He responds with a gracious simplicity, “No, I leave that in your capable hands.”
You can’t help but feel a subtle warmth creeping across your cheeks because he really is rather sweet and charming.
So you clear your throat before speaking, “I promised you some nice places to see the ocean, so let’s do that.”
With a subtle gesture, you signal it’s time to leave, and you start walking with Orm following closely behind. As you set the pace, you observe him adjusting his strides to match yours, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes your heart beat faster. It’s rare that a guy just does that without having to be asked.
He slips his hands into his pockets, seemingly unsure of what to do with them.
“We’re gonna have to drive a bit,” you mention, looking up at Orm, and tugging your lip between your teeth, “Is that fine for you?”
You gesture towards your small blue car and watch Orm’s gaze as his eyes shift from you to the car before nodding slowly, “Sure.”
As you lead the way, Orm walks behind you, and you notice a hesitation in his movements when you reach the car. He doesn’t do anything until you open your door, watching your movements. To you, he looks a bit lost, as if he’s unsure about how to open the door. But you disregard that thought, it is probably just your mind playing tricks.
As you both get into the car, the doors closing with a reassuring thud, you settle into your respective seats.
“If you need more leg space, feel free to adjust the seat,” you offer, considering he is taller than you.
 He meets your gaze with those striking blue eyes before nodding, “Sure, but I’ll be fine.”
Orm’s gaze wanders around your car, and you notice his eyes catching on the seashell chain dangling from the rearview mirror. His hand raises, and his fingers delicately trace over the hard exteriors of the shells. The gesture carries a certain intimacy as if he’s unravelling the stories embedded in each shell.
The image in your mind briefly diverges, envisioning those deliberate touches on your skin with the same care and intensity. You swallow dryly as you try to remember why you’re here - to show him some spots, to be his friend, not to fuck him.
As you start the car, the engine humming to life, you catch what seems like a subtle jump in the corner of your eyes from Orm. However, you dismiss it, attributing it to a trick of the mind or perhaps a momentary startle that often accompanies the sudden sounds of a car coming to life.
“Do you mind fastening your seatbelt?” you ask, your concern for safety evident in the request. Sure, he’s muscular and fit but in case of an accident that won’t help him much sadly.
Orm nods in acknowledgement, and his eyes meet yours as you secure your seatbelt before mirroring the motion.
He is rather strange.
_____
The drive unfolds in a quiet contentment, accompanied by the soft murmur of the radio playing music at a low volume. Orm, for the most part, gazes out of the window, seemingly lost in thought or captivated by the passing scenery. As the sunlight plays on his face, casting gentle shadows, you find yourself fascinated by the play of light, accentuating his features.
At some point you start humming, caught in the melody of a song and even sing quietly along. After a few beats you notice that Orm’s gaze is fixed on you now, an intensive look in his blue eyes as he studies you with a depth that makes you feel vulnerable.
As you become aware of it, a blush creeps across your cheeks. To your surprise, Orm responds with one of those sweet smiles before breaking eye contact and redirecting his attention to the scenery outside the window again.
“We’re here,” you announce to Orm, bringing the car to a stop. The engine’s hum fades as you turn it off, and you both step out.
You brought him to a medium-high cliff site.
The cliff, standing just a few feet above the ocean, is characterised by weathered stones, carved over time by the relentless touch of the water. It’s not a typical beach setting, but the raw beauty of the scene never fails to captivate you.
Below, the waves crash with a rhythmic symphony, their energy echoing against the stone walls in a natural percussion. Each surge sends sprays of seawater into the air, catching the sunlight like a cascade of liquid diamonds before dissipating into the sea breeze.
The sun, hanging high in the sky, bathes the entire scene in a warm, golden glow. It casts its warm embrace upon the waves, creating a dazzling display as the light interplays with the water that reflects the brilliance of the sun. The golden rays catch in the frothy crests of the wave.
A small path, worn by time and exploration, winds its way down the cliffside side presumably leading to a beach down below.
In the stillness of this remote haven, away from the clamour of the city and the watchful eyes of the world, the air carries a purity that is both invigorating and calming. As you close your eyes and inhale deeply, the crisp, clean air fills your lungs, creating a sense of tranquillity that is uniquely serene.
As you stand there a realization dawns upon you - you’ve never brought someone here before. Yet, as you stand there with Orm, the decision to share this sacred place with him feels instinctive, as if his presence harmonizes with the essence of the surroundings.
Deep within your consciousness, a recognition stirs, an understanding that his eyes mirror the tranquil beauty of this place. There’s an unspoken connection between him and the sea, a sentiment that resonates with the rugged cliffs, crashing waves, and untamed nature surrounding you both. It’s as if his very presence is an extension of the landscape - a kindred spirit to the ocean.
“Beautiful,” Orm’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie, prompting you to turn around and face him, finding that his gaze is fixed on you, not on the breathtaking scenery that surrounds you.
“Yeah, I come here to think - I just feel like I can breathe here,” you share, offering a glimpse into the personal significance this place holds for you. 
As you speak, you notice that Orm’s eyes remain glued to your form, not wandering to the sea. His intense gaze seems to linger on you as if captivated by something beyond the natural beauty of the landscape. You feel your heartbeat in your whole body and electricity coursing through your skin.
Orm steps closer his intense blue eyes never leaving yours. With a gentle touch, he lifts a wayward lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face and tucks it behind your ear.
The gesture is tender, a subtle connection that transcends words. The proximity and the soft touch create a moment suspended in time, the crashing waves and the untouched beauty of the surroundings fading into the background. 
Your breath catches in your throat, momentarily you forget to breathe as you feel his warm skin on your face.
You can’t help but notice the vibrant glow in Orm’s eyes. The sunlight catches in the deep blue hues, and they seem to come alive with a vivid intensity. His gaze, vibrant and open, mirrors the brilliance of the sun that bathes the surroundings.
At that moment, his eyes are a reflection of the untamed beauty of the sea, filled with depths and mysteries that seem to echo the vastness of the ocean. 
Orm’s proximity brings with it an enveloping scent that fills the air around you. It’s a fragrance that captures the essence of the sea, a symphony of the breeze, sea salt, and the unmistakable aroma of the beach. 
As you breathe in, the familiar notes of the sea transport you to the shoreline, the rhythmic sounds of the waves echoing in your mind. 
It is as if he’s water itself.
In the silence, with Orm’s hand gently cradling the side of your face, you notice the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. In a moment of courage, you decide to close the distance.
With a small, bold step on your toes, you reach for his lips, closing the gap between you and Orm. The kiss is a gentle meeting, a fusion of shared connection and unspoken emotions. The crashing waves and the sea breeze seem to hold their breath as if nature itself is pausing to witness this intimate exchange beneath the warm glow of the sun.
Orm’s response is immediate and enveloping. Instead of pulling back, he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you even closer against his frame. The kiss deepens a mutual exchange that goes beyond words. The embrace is strong and intimate as if the crashing waves below have found their echo in the connection between you and Orm.
Time seems to slow, and the kiss becomes a shared moment suspended in the tapestry of the cliffside sanctuary. The scent of the sea, the warmth of the sunlight, and the touch of his lips create a harmonious symphony, blending with the timeless rhythm of the waves below. 
You feel Orm’s stubble against your skin. The subtle scratch of his facial hair becomes a grounding force, connecting you to the present moment, reminding you that this is happening.
It is as if your entire being comes alive.
Every touch, every nuance of the kiss, is a vibrant testament to the living, breathing connection between you and Orm. 
Breathless, you break the kiss, and as you look at Orm, he appears positively ravishing. The sea breeze plays with his tousled hair, and the sunlight casts a golden glow upon his features.
His eyes reflect a sense of wonder as if the shared moment was something extraordinary and beyond expectation. And then, with a captivating smile, he pulls back slightly, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, savouring the taste of the kiss.
“That was unexpected,” Orm says, his intense gaze unwavering as he keeps his eyes firmly on you.
“Unwelcome?” you question,  searching for reassurance.
“No, I didn’t say that. It was most welcome,” he assures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a genuine appreciation for the shared moment.
“It’s different from what I thought or expected,” Orm mumbles quietly, his expression turning thoughtful, the words almost lost in the hushed tone.
“What?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice, urging him to repeat himself since you didn’t quite catch what he was saying.
“Oh, nothing,” Orm dismisses with a subtle smile, as if choosing to keep certain thoughts close to himself and not to elaborate further. 
You lose your train of thought as soon as Orm reaches for your hand, giving it a subtle, reassuring squeeze, telling you without words that you shouldn’t worry about it.
Orm gently releases your hand, his attention drawn to the scenic surroundings. Taking a few steps forward, he moves closer to the edge of the cliff, where he peers down at the undulating water below. 
In the soft glow of the sunlight, his features come alive, it paints him with warmth, casting a radiant glow that enhances every detail. The light highlights the slight tousle of his hair as the wind delicately weaves through it.
Orm turns to you again, his eyes reflecting a deep appreciation for the surroundings. “I can understand why you come to this place,” he says, his voice carrying a sincere tone. “It really is something special.“
You nod in agreement and offer a warm smile. “Are you hungry?” you ask because the rumble in your own stomach suggests it’s time for a meal. Orm seems to ponder for a moment, considering the idea, and then he agrees with a subtle nod.
Curiosity piqued, you ask, “What do you feel like eating?”
His response is straightforward. “I’d like a burger with fries and a Guinness.”
A grin spreads across your face as you reply, “I know a spot that serves good burgers. I’m not too sure about the Guinness though - but I’m sure you’ll find something.”
Orm nods in satisfaction and you suggest getting back to the car.
“Lead the way, oh guide of tours,” Orm says, his choice of words eliciting a snort from you at the quirky phrasing.
As you both settle into the car, you take the driver’s seat and start the engine. 
Without many words, Orm carefully places a hand on your thigh. 
Initially, it’s just the featherlight touch of his fingertips, but when he senses your ease, he gently lays his hand down, spreading his fingers to cover as much space as possible.
The warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric of your jeans, a searing heat that radiates from your leg, enveloping your entire body. Turning your head towards him, you find his gaze fixed on you and in response, you offer a warm smile.
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xtra7s · 1 month
Text
𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨
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𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚙 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Synopsis: Renee realizes her girlfriend is struggling and comes back from her tour.
Content: depression warning, fluff, deep talks/discussions, just tw
Word Count: 1.800+
a/n: I havent been writing lately, but I was listening to my shitty ass sad playlist after I hit my bong n wanted to write based on how I felt. Srry it's sad lol.
Masterlist |
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As Y/N lay in bed, surrounded by the suffocating weight of her thoughts, she felt as if she were trapped. Depression wasn't just a feeling; it was a state of being, an all-encompassing darkness that clouded her mind and consumed her soul.
The disassociation was perhaps the most insidious aspect of it all. It was like watching her life unfold from behind a thick pane of glass, disconnected from the world around her. She went through the motions of her daily routine, but it felt hollow, as if she were merely a spectator in her own life like she was sleeping.
Numbness was her constant companion, a thick fog that dulled her senses and dulled the vibrant colors of the world around her. It was difficult to muster up any enthusiasm or joy when every emotion seemed to be buried beneath layers of apathy, she just felt lost, like she was suffocating.
Boredom was another relentless adversary, gnawing at her from the inside out. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to hold her interest for long. Hobbies that once brought her joy now felt like meaningless distractions, and even the simplest tasks felt like Herculean feats.
But perhaps the cruelest aspect of it all was the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to suffocate her at every turn. It wasn't just a lack of companionship; it was a profound sense of isolation, a feeling of being utterly and completely alone in the world.
Even when surrounded by friends and loved ones, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was nobody's person. It was as if she were standing on the outside looking in, watching as everyone else lived their lives while she remained stuck in place, unable to move forward.
And so, as she lay in bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, Y/N couldn't help but feel as if she were buried alive and clawing at the wood til her fingers bled.
The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the sun that shined through the curtains, much to Y/N's discomfort. It was a familiar scene, one that had become all too common in recent months, she didn't have the energy to shut the blinds.
Depression had become Y/N's unwanted companion, a shadow that followed her every step, always coming back even after she thought she got rid of it. Loneliness was its cruelest weapon, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket, isolating her from the world.
She had tried to fight it, tried to push through the fog that clouded her mind, but tonight, it felt like an impossible task. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling utterly lost and alone.
Unbeknownst to Y/N, her girlfriend Renee had sensed the shift in her demeanor. Renee had been on tour for the past few weeks, but even from miles away, she could feel when something was amiss with Y/N.
Tonight, as Renee finished her performance on stage, her thoughts were consumed by Y/N. Something didn't feel right, a nagging sense of worry gnawing at her heart. Ignoring the cheers of the crowd, Renee hurried back to her dressing room, her mind racing with concern.
Once backstage, Renee grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Y/N's number. It rang once, twice, before Y/N's voice echoed through the receiver, thick with emotion.
"Hey," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hey, love," Renee replied, her heart aching at the sound of Y/N's voice. "Is everything okay?"
Y/N hesitated, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. But Renee's presence, even over the phone, was a balm to her weary soul.
"I… I don't know," Y/N confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just… I feel so lost, Renee. Like I'm drowning in my own thoughts."
Renee's heart shattered at Y/N's words, the pain in her voice cutting through her like a knife. Without a second thought, she made a decision.
"Y/N, I'm coming home," Renee declared, her voice filled with determination. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the sincerity in Renee's words. Despite the distance between them, Renee's love was a beacon of light in the darkness.
"Please hurry," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
"I will," Renee promised, her own tears mingling with Y/N's across the miles. "I love you, Y/N. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"
As they hung up, a spark of hope ignited within her chest. Even in her darkest moments, Renee was her guiding star, leading her back to the light.
The moment Renee stepped through the door, she could feel the heavy atmosphere weighing down the air. The dimly lit apartment seemed to echo with Y/N's silent struggle, and Renee's heart clenched at the sight.
Renee quickly made her way to the bedroom, where she found Y/N curled up under the blankets, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Without a word, Renee slipped into bed beside her, wrapping her arms around Y/N and pulling her close.
Y/N melted into Renee's embrace, her body trembling with the weight of her emotions. Renee held her tightly, offering silent comfort as Y/N buried her face in Renee's chest, seeking solace in her warmth.
For a long moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. But eventually, Y/N found the courage to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry, Renee," Y/N murmured, her words muffled against Renee's shirt. "I hate that you have to see me like this."
Renee brushed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, her heart aching at the pain in her eyes.
"Don't apologize, love," Renee murmured, her voice tender. "You never have to apologize for how you feel. I'm here for you, always."
Y/N's breath hitched at Renee's words, the love and acceptance in her voice a balm to her wounded soul.
"I just… I don't know how to cope anymore," Y/N confessed, her voice breaking with emotion. "It feels like I'm drowning.."
Renee's heart clenched at the despair in Y/N's voice, but she refused to let it consume them. With a gentle hand, she tilted Y/N's chin up, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.
"You're not alone in this, Y/N," Renee said firmly, her eyes brimming with love. "We'll get through this together, okay? I'll be right here by your side every step of the way."
Y/N nodded, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes as Renee's words washed over her like a lifeline.
"What if I never get better?" Y/N whispered, her voice laced with fear.
Renee's heart broke at the vulnerability in Y/N's words, shaking her head.
"We'll figure it out together," Renee promised, her voice shaky. "There are so many ways we can tackle this, whether it's therapy, medication, or finding what works for you. We'll take it one day at a time."
Y/N's shoulders sagged with relief at Renee's unwavering support, the weight of her burden suddenly feeling a little lighter.
"Thank you, Renee," Y/N whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Renee brushed a tender kiss against Y/N's lips, pouring all of her love and devotion into the gentle caress.
"You'll never have to find out," Renee promised, her voice filled with conviction. "I love you, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."
As Y/N lay in Renee's arms, her thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of her depression bore down on her like a heavy anchor, dragging her deeper into the abyss of her own mind.
"Renee," Y/N's voice wavered, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped them. "I feel like I'm stuck. Like I'm trapped in this endless cycle of figuring it all out then knowing nothing again."
Renee's heart ached at the tremble in Y/N's voice, her grip tightening around Y/N's trembling form.
"I know, love," Renee murmured, her voice soft with understanding. "I'm here.."
Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gazed up at Renee, her vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.
"But what if it's not enough?" Y/N whispered, her cracking ever so slightly as she spoke. "I feel like I'll always be this way. I never seem to get better, Renee."
Renee's heart shattered at the despair in Y/N's words, the fear of losing her consuming her from the inside out.
"You're not broken, Y/N," Renee insisted, her voice firm with conviction. "You're human. And humans are allowed to feel lost sometimes. But that doesn't mean you can't find your way back."
Y/N smiled sadly at Renee, trying to believe her words.
"I just… I feel like I'm losing everyone," Y/N confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I'm so scared of being alone."
Renee's heart constricted at the raw honesty in Y/N's words, the pain of her loneliness echoing in her own soul.
"You're not alone, Y/N," Renee whispered, her voice laced with tenderness. "You're my person, and I'm yours. We'll navigate your darkness together, hand in hand, until we find our way back to the light."
Y/N's tears flowed freely now, cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall of emotion. But with Renee's unwavering love to anchor her, she felt a glimmer of hope amidst the storm.
"Thank you, Renee," Y/N murmured, her voice choked with gratitude. "For being my light in the darkness."
Renee pressed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, pouring all of her love and devotion into the tender gesture.
"Always, love," Renee promised, her voice a whispered vow. "I'll always be here for you. No matter what."
As the weight of their shared emotions began to ease, exhaustion swept over Y/N like a gentle tide, pulling her into the embrace of sleep. Renee held her close, their bodies entwined in a comforting embrace.
In the quiet of the night, as the world outside fell into a hushed slumber, Renee pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's temple, her lips lingering against the warmth of her skin.
"Sleep now, my love," Renee whispered, her voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "And remember, don't kill the flowers."
Y/N watched Renee sleepily, hooded eyes silently agreeing with her words. Sleep soon claimed her, pulling her into its gentle embrace.
And as they drifted into dreams, the promise of a new day.
𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴.
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frogchiro · 1 year
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🐙 here!
love monster!simon
imagine waking up with him on a lazy Sunday morning. you wake up with all the blankets pushed to the floor. why would you even need them?
bc Simon is literally your own personal heater.
he rumbles every time you nuzzle right under his chin. his arms feel like they sear into your body because he’s so warm and it’s so cold.
he will purposely purr and chuff at you to make sure you don’t leave. he gives you a small pout and you’re suddenly back in bed when you were trying to leave.
he takes the time to slowly scent you. rubbing the tip of his nose over your throat and nipping at the area between your shoulder blades. he’s just so excited that you’re here with him. in his nest. letting him scent you.
may or may not lead to soft sweet lazy sex in the morning just because you smell so good. and it’s even better when you smell like him.
monster!simon who absolutely adores you and won’t let you leave the nest for the day because it isn’t safe. stay here. with him 🥺
HELLO OCTOPUS!! this is way overdue too but I keep rereading it from time to time and I absolutely adore monster Si ;;
And he adores lazy days off! Especially when he's back from deployment and he needs to 'recharge' and what way could possibly better than spending the whole time glued to your side!
fem!reader, nsfw but it's really nothing big and incredibly fluffy <3
Since he's a monster, a creature, entity, eldricht being; whatever you call it, he sees you as his mate, someone who cares for him and he cares for in return, and his version of caring is keeping you in your nest where its drowning in his scent and he knows it's safe! He'll loudly voice his displeasure if you try and move away from him in the morning, chuffs and rumbles leaving his maw as he just hugs you impossibly closer, hooking his leg over yours and fully encompassing you with his massive body.
Scenting and marking is also incredibly important to him; what better way than to show everyone that you belong to him than having you drown is his scent and bite marks litter your throat and chest. Will absolutely melt into and eldricht horror pile of goo if your nuzzle under his stubbled chin and neck OR lick his cheek <3
Also soft possessive lovemaking in the morning is his favorite thing ever <3 It definitely won't be his usual rough domineering pace meant to release pent up stress or the heat induced brain clouding fog telling him to breed. Oh no, it will be overwhelmingly soft and slow, big strong hips moving lazily against yours, heavy cock thrusting slowly into your aching pussy and his knot just teasing against your enterance, your soft moans intertwining with Simon's pleased purrs and chirps and deep rumbles, his long tongue sneaking out from between his razor sharp teeth to lick at your cheek; a large monster soothing his sated happy mate <3
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where you lead me, i’ll follow ; suguru geto
synopsis; opening up is hard, even under the comfort of a starry sky, seated next to your childhood friend. fortunately, suguru knows you like the back of his hand.
word count; 10k (dont even look at me i got carried away ok….)
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers (eventually. probably.), hurt/comfort (mostly comfort tbh), fluffy overall!!, reader is silly and suguru is down horrendous, written with a no curses au in mind, i’m madly in love with suguru geto and it shows
a/n; nothing goes harder than sugu w/ the childhood friends trope i fear. the angst potential, the fluff potential….. the slow burn of it all……….. anyways can u tell i miss him :’3
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time goes by so very quickly.
as you look up at the starry sky, the thought envelops you like a fuzzy tidal wave; heavy, suffocating, entirely unavoidable. these days, sinking beneath its weight is all you seem to do.
a sigh flows from your parted lips. soft and quiet, somewhat resigned. the midnight air tastes cold and crispy on your tongue, turning into a flurry of vapour as you breathe it out again, watching it dissipate into the summer night. beyond the boundary of your vision, stars burn in tandem. all you can see is the darkness of the cosmos, pupils dilating as you take in the immensity of the world, the little flickers of starlight that glimmer in that all-encompassing veil of black — blooming out across the galaxy. 
the moon is beautiful, tonight. 
a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling down at you so very tenderly, so gorgeous that it makes your heart ache. shining with a hazy kind of brightness, soothing like the lilt of a mother’s voice. 
and there’s a comfort, in the familiarity of the sight. because the moon is always, always there. always shining down on you, always when you need it most, even when it’s carved into a crescent or hidden by a blur of clouds. a view that never ever seems to change, no matter how many years go by. 
what a lovely thing to be.
another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. time keeps passing you by, never stopping — seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again. 
and, really, it’s a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you’re so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it.
but even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life — 
one thing remains the same.
”ah. there you are.”
(that voice.)
honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges. just a little husky. deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you’re sure you’d still remember it. that familiar, familiar voice. it sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.
it sounds like coming home.
a turn of your head. it’s a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. you do it as if it’s the only thing worth hearing.
and suguru is smiling, when your eyes meet his. that gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. the one that always puts your mind at ease.
a warmth settles in your chest, at the sight of him. hair down, cascading over his shoulders and back, a little messy; as black as the night sky. a stark contrast to the white of his shirt, old, oversized, with some indie band on the front.
his eyes glimmer like little pockets of stardust in the darkness of the night. cutting through the haze, into your very soul.
”… damn,” you click your tongue, faux pout playing at your lips. ”how’d you know i’d be up here?”
suguru shrugs. ”lucky guess,” he lies.
of course i knew, he thinks. finding you is his specialty. always has been. like that one time he found you hiding under a table at your twelfth birthday party, or the time he found you crying in the woods when you got lost on your school field trip.
finding you comes easy, to suguru. almost like he’s always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. you go south, and he follows. you go north, and he’s already waiting up ahead.
he’s worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself, but truthfully it’s more than that. because tonight was supposed to be for you. for the both of you, a celebration of your shared graduation — but before he knew it, you had slipped away. seizing the opportunity as soon as people grew too sleepy to notice. 
(sadly for you, no amount of fatigue could ever distract him from the lack of your presence.)
you look small, suguru thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you’d always go to on nights when you couldn’t sleep. together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again.
back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.
(the safest world he’s ever known.)
the distance between you grows narrower, as suguru makes his way over to you — and it always does, at the end of the day. no matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. one of you always moves closer. as if it’s unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other’s orbit.
suguru plops down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. it’s natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. it reminds you of the gentle lapping of ocean waves at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days, comforting and familiar. a warmth that never goes away.
a brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. the scent that always lingers on suguru’s skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other’s clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.
leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, you let a fond exhale slip from your lips. barely audible. and suguru mimics it.
”of course i knew,” he whispers, voice gone soft. ”i know you.”
(your chest tightens. it doesn’t go away.)
another tiny breath flows into the air, as you gaze up at the stars in wonder. ”… yeah.”
the silence between you is a comfortable one. always has been. a little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long — usually you, though suguru isn’t much better. 
but this time, he stays silent.
he’s waiting. you know he is, because he always does. he’s waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. waiting for you to say something, tell him what’s wrong, explain why you’re up here instead of celebrating with the others. waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.
(you’d like to ask him the same thing. he’s an idiot if he thinks a little makeup is enough to hide those dark circles from you.)
suguru is nothing if not patient. so he waits, unbothered by the silence. admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. a vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can’t stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.
an insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart — but he can’t, not unless you let him.
a sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. deep and heavy, like a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. the silence breaks. 
”hey, suguru.”
the man in question doesn’t speak, only emitting an inquisitive hum. he doesn’t look at you, either; a form of respect. knowing you’ll find it easier to get whatever’s bugging you off your chest without him scrutinizing you. 
the pads of your fingers tap at the tiles of the roof. an absentminded habit, as you inhale a bit of the midnight air. it tastes like summer. ”do you remember how we first met?”
suguru glances at you, a surprised glint in his eyes. he can’t help himself — unable to resist the temptation of seeing your face, drinking in your expression.
then he chuckles.
”haha.. are you feeling sentimental?” he teases, a lighthearted sense of amusement in his voice. bubbling up like seafoam. ”did you come out here just to brood?”
the corners of his lips quirk up when he hears you huff, hugging your legs closer to your chest with a furrow of your brow. cheek squished against your kneecap as you meet his gaze.
”c’mon,” you whine, pouting childishly in a way you know will make him give in. ”just indulge me a little…”
suguru smiles. it’s soft around the edges, smoothed over with an unmistakable fondness — and he does indulge you. he always does. ”of course i do,” he assures you.
the silence that settles between your words is tender. a mutual understanding, of sorts.
of course i remember. how could i not?
”you broke into my backyard.”
a sigh. heavy and sharp, as it tumbles from your lips, and suguru has to bite back a grin. his eyes shine with something teasing, in the dark, when you shoot a glare his way.
”okay, first of all —” you begin, ”i didn’t break into anything. i climbed over the fence. peacefully.”
suguru raises a brow. ”that literally doesn’t matter? it’s still trespassing.”
”i was seven years old!”
”some criminals start young.”
another harmless little huff, as you halfheartedly try to sound annoyed. it doesn’t work. in an attempt to hide your growing smile, you tuck your face into your knees. ”whatever.”
then your gaze shifts. towards that expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon, like a moth to a flame. helpless to its charms. it looks like a giant sponge cake, the kind you and suguru used to make when that was the only recipe you knew — you’d eat from the batter, and he’d scold you. then he’d do it too, when your back was turned.
a smile settles on your lips. in every star, you find a new memory; and the fuzzy nostalgia that engulfs you makes your heart feel bare. ”i just wanted to pet your cat,” you recall, softly.
suguru nods. gazing down at you, basking in the expression on your face — peaceful and relaxed, a little more yourself. so effortlessly pretty, bathed in moonlight. ”yeah. i remember.”
he allows the memory to sweep him away, for a second or two. recalling the sight of you, all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. it was like you had just fallen out of the sky. quiet and meek, but looking at his cat with an excited glimmer in your eyes.
”you just pointed to her and expected me to understand,” he continues. a grin blooms on his face, hopelessly endeared. ”you were shy back then.”
a raise of your eyebrow. ”um? i’m still shy?”
suguru gives you a look. he doesn’t have to say anything — it’s written all over his face. the classic suguru look, the kind where you can tell he’s itching to say oh, really now? the kind where he tries to look judgemental, but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.
a small giggle leaves your lips, and suguru smiles, once more. so helpless in the face of your joy.
”then we watched movies at my place.”
you hum. ”it was fun.”
”yeah.”
another bout of silence. soft, terribly precious. the air is chilly, but not enough to make you shiver; a mild summer night, pleasant on your skin and light on your heart. a gentle breeze tousles your hair. in the distance, you hear cicadas buzzing — a familiar sound. unchanging.
(if only everything else could stay the same, too.)
”do you remember what movie it was?”
a lazy smile plays at suguru’s lips, when he angles his face to look at you. one eyebrow raised. ”is there a point to this, or —?”
”i just wanna reminisce.”
suguru pauses. your eyes trail across the view that stretches out before you, from the moon to the distant city lights, as you fidget absentmindedly with the strings of your hoodie. he thinks to himself that you look a little lost. gaze forgotten, within the depths of that endless night sky.
no more teasing, he decides, tactfully. instead, he opts to answer your question; softly, as if he could hurt you if he raised even a single octave of his voice. ”whisper of the heart,” is all he says.
a hum, as you nod. decisively. ”the best one.”
suguru turns his head away, and mutters something under his breath. but you can still hear him — and you know he wants you to.
”spirited away is the best one…”
out of the corner of your eye, you shoot him a thoroughly unimpressed look. he bites back a soft bout of laughter, teeth sinking into his lip gently, not enough to sting.
”you’re so basic,” you grin.
”you just want to feel quirky,” suguru shoots back, instantaneous. ”and you only like it because of seiji.”
”you only like spirited away because of haku!”
suguru closes his eyes, and leans back a little, crossing his arms in a childish fashion — and you know he only does it to make you laugh. ”i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies.
”oh please,” you scoff. ”you really think i don’t remember your queer awakening?”
”hm? what was that?” feigning confusion, he puts a hand to his ear. but there’s a mirth in his eyes, impossible to miss. ”you’re gonna have to come closer, i can’t hear you from here.”
another unimpressed look. you exhale, something in between a huff and a chuckle. ”if i get any closer i’ll be in your lap, dumbass.”
suguru bites his cheek, softly. gulping down the words that almost slip off his tongue.
(i wouldn’t mind.)
”sorry, say that again?”
a little push meets his shoulder, as you roll your eyes. ”yeah, yeah. whatever.”
the banter dies down, as fast as it appeared. then a smile breaks out across your faces, in tandem, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere — and doesn’t it always, when you’re watching the starry sky with the one you love most?
when suguru continues, his voice has taken on that softer tone, again. the one he only ever really uses around you. ”i liked thinking of us as them,” he admits. ”me as haku, and you as chihiro.”
a soft blink. then your smile grows, sweet like syrup. ”.. hehe. that’s funny,” you cross your legs. palms flat against the roof, knee leaning comfortably against suguru’s. ”i always thought of us as seiji and shizuku.”
there’s something faraway, in your eyes. something suguru can’t look away from.
tentatively, his fingers dig into the skin of his palms, and he speaks. absentminded, a little uncertain.
”… they get married at the end, don’t they?”
a pause. then your gaze snaps over to suguru’s, suddenly mischievous — and he regrets opening his mouth.
”oh?” you purr, almost beaming. inching closer, like a predator sizing up their prey. ”oh shit? are you about to propose, mister geto?”
”i’m just stating facts,” he quips, hands raised in defense. desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint crawling up his neck, obscured by the darkness of the night.
”incorrect facts,” you grin. if you notice the blush on his face, you don’t say anything. ”they get engaged. not married. big difference.”
suguru huffs. it’s small, as he tries to keep himself from smiling. the beating of his heart is faint, a tender rhythm, stirred by every move you make. he pushes the words he yearns to say back down his throat.
(i wouldn’t mind that, either.)
again, silence blooms. curling around the space between you. it feels nice, just to be like this; just you, and your very best friend, under the soft lighting of the moon. as if you’re the only ones who exist, in an otherwise empty universe — devoid of space and time. like the night could just stop, and stretch on forever. 
there’s an unspoken question in the air, though. one suguru is still waiting for you to answer. one you refuse to answer properly, until he does the same.
you’ve both noticed, of course. even if no one else has, neither of you could ever miss it. suguru has noticed the turmoil in your eyes, and you’ve noticed the fatigue under his. those little signs of stress, as everything around you keeps spinning on; as the future grows closer, with every passing day.
(it’s overwhelming, you both muse.)
— and finally, you’ve had enough.
”suguru,” you call out, and his gaze finds yours instantly. ”have they been stressing you out, lately?”
suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering softly. a little sleepy. they.
then he smiles. maybe a bit weak, but still as sincere as always — resigned to the fact that he really can’t hide anything from you, after all.
(of course you’d notice it. he was stupid to think you wouldn’t.)
a hum, as he breathes in the air and then exhales it all. trying to formulate the words inside his head, turn the feelings into syllables. and you’re patient. silent, as you admire the way moonlight caresses his skin.
”i’ll manage.” is what he finally says, and your lips curl down into a frown. ”they’ve just been getting on my case, again. you know how they are.”
suguru closes his eyes, and you inch closer to him. barely, by a hair, just to let him know you’re still listening. that you’re waiting for him to continue.
it’s tough, for him. opening up, being vulnerable.
but he knows you won’t do it unless he does, too. so he takes that leap, despite the insistent voice in his head urging him to just keep it to himself.
”it’s just… all these expectations, you know?” he meets your eyes, a little sheepish. downplaying his troubles so smoothly, as if you wouldn’t notice. ”i’m used to it by now, but sometimes i guess it still gets to me.”
you hum, and he continues.
”i feel like i have to be… solid,” he decides on. ”put-together. responsible, and mature.” a sigh, as he wrings his hands together. ”and that’s fine — but it’s like they have everything planned out. like everyone does. how i should act, where i should go…”
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, so focused on verbalizing his thoughts that he barely notices your fingers curling around his. but he still squeezes them, lightly. as naturally as breathing.
”it’s like my future’s already set in stone. and i’m just expected to follow it,” he looks up at the moon. ”which is also fine. i already know what i want to do. but somehow, all of it just feels so…”
he pauses. unsure of how to put it.
”… suffocating?” you finish for him. 
there’s a second in which suguru can do nothing but breathe. as if frozen, stuck in motion, caught off guard by how deeply your minds are intertwined.
— what a wonderful thing, to have someone pluck the words you’re afraid to say from the back of your throat.
a smile blooms on his face, and a gratitude shines in his eyes. almost overflowing. 
(you’ve always been the only one who ever seems to understand.)
”yeah,” he sighs, relieved. and suddenly his chest feels a lot lighter. odd, how just the tilt of your voice when you say a certain word can chase that discomforting sensation away. 
”don’t listen to them,” you say, assuredly, so softly it’s like you’re coaxing him into believing you. it works. ”they don’t matter.”
suguru chuckles, rueful. ”they’re my parents.”
”so? they aren’t you.” you nudge his side with your elbow. ”they have no say in how you live your life. you don’t need to live up to all those expectations, you know.” 
a soft little breath leaves your lips, and suguru wonders how you seem to always soothe his heart so easily. ”you just need to be suguru,” you mumble, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ”that’s all.”
a moment passes. suguru parts his lips, closing them again when no sound comes out. and then finally, he speaks.
”… yeah,” he muses. ”maybe.”
”definitely,” you huff. ”trust your best friend. i know best.”
”careful,” he teases, tilting his head lazily to meet your gaze. ”you’re starting to sound like them.” the smile on his face only grows when you gape at him, wholly offended, as if you can’t believe what he just said.
”wha — suguru…” you whine, sleepy, clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. digging your nails into the fabric and tugging on it childishly. ”don’t say that. i’m nothing like them!”
a giggle pushes past his lips. ”sorry, sorry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair with his palm. rough hands, big and warm, that always seem to find their way to your skin. ”i’m just kidding. thank you. really.”
the smile that he gives you glows brighter than the moon. he squeezes your hand, softly — a silent i love you. eyes closed, formed into little crescents, and when he speaks he sounds so painfully sincere. 
”i think i’ll be fine as long as i have you,” he says. it comes out sounding something like a prayer. 
the words make your eyes soften. melting into a mellow hue, so full of affection that you can almost taste it on your tongue. 
”everything will turn out fine,” you murmur, consoling him. still not letting go of his hand. ”you have your whole life ahead of you, you know.”
he chuckles. the sound would be sweet if it didn’t have that teasing tilt to it, the one that tells you his amusement is at your expense. ”now you’re starting to sound like my grandma,” he quips, as if itching for something to bicker about.
but you only pout, and let your fingers slip from his. the warmth that leaves you is so jarring that you’re almost tempted to take his hand into yours again — but you just frown at him. ”i can never win with you, huh?”
suguru shrugs. ”need to keep you humble,” he chirps, pulling at your cheek gently. a lazy grin on his lips. ”we don’t want that ego of yours to grow as big as satoru’s.”
trying to keep yourself from grinning with him, you slap his hand away, playfully. ”that would never happen.”
”uh-huh.”
you give him a look.
”my bad.”
a moment passes. gradually, you feel your heart beginning to melt — just a little, but enough to get your voice hopelessly soft on your tongue. the glimmer of the moon embraces every cell in your body, painting over your features with a certain kind of bleeding tenderness. it’s hard to stop it from seeping out.
”you know that i love you. right?” tumbles from your lips, breathed out into the sky, words too heavy to be held back. ”even if your parents give you trouble, and everyone else, too — i’m still on your side.”
”always,” you promise, devotedly earnest. meeting his gaze. and suguru can’t look away.
something flickers, in the depths of his eyes, like a shooting star. something delightful.
he doesn’t quite know what to say. but he nods; almost meek, in a way, and it makes your chest ache. suguru’s always been the type to keep his troubles to himself, content with never letting anyone see into his heart — even if he’d like them to deep down.
if you can be there for him, even just for a night, then that’s more than enough.
he lets the silence linger for a while longer, soft breathing and the rustling of grass filling the space where your words would be. then he looks at you with newfound determination, suddenly, eyes shining in a way you don’t recognize. 
”— and you know that i love you, too.” 
a moment passes. 
an affirmative hum buzzes in your throat, and you give him the ghost of a nod, shying away from his deep gaze. hoping to escape the intimacy of the question. but he doesn’t let you, stare so heavy that you have no choice but to meet his eyes again, after he nudges your hand with his.
the words that fall from his lips surprise you. something akin to a pout plays on his lips, but it’s more serious than that — he looks dejected.
”… do you, though?” he pushes, a troubled frown on his lips. ”do you know that i love you? just as much as you love me?” 
at your stunned silence, suguru sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth over the crease between his brows. ”sometimes i worry that you don’t,” he admits. ”you always think too much. but i don’t want you to ever have to worry about that.”
his voice is firm, when he continues. ”i don’t want you to ever second-guess my love for you,” he declares, and you cower a little under the intensity of his gaze. playing with your fingers instead of looking at him. ”— so i want your answer.”
when his hand finds its way to your face, you stiffen, just barely. but it’s soft, the way he cups your jaw; the warmth of his palm smoothing over your skin. gentle, as he forces you to meet his eyes, tilting your chin up slightly. a bold move, even though physical contact is no stranger in your dynamic. you feel your heart pick up in speed. 
”do you know that i love you?” he asks, and it sounds almost pleading. you can only find it in you to stare. 
suguru’s eyes are filled with something, something you’d like to call love. and they’re looking deep into yours, almost as if coaxing you into drowning in their hue. mesmerizing. ridiculously pretty. if you stare into them for too long, you fear that you might never be able to look away.
but they’re sweet, and warm. painted over with worried hue, something very kind. familiar. the same eyes that have soothed you for as long as you can remember. 
in your flustered state, you can do nothing but blink dumbly — gaze darting from his eyes, to his forehead, to the sky, to his lips. 
he can tell the eye contact makes you nervous, but some part of him won’t allow you to squirm away. this is important. he needs to know that you know. he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at night, otherwise.
finally, you squeak out an affirmative yes. and that’s all it takes for him to relax; in one smooth motion, his hand leaves your skin, a relief having bloomed in his eyes. 
”okay. that’s good,” he exhales. 
swallowing down a gulp, your gaze drifts away from the boy to your left. suguru is terrifying, really — doing stuff like that out of nowhere. you check your pulsepoint, discreetly, just to make sure your heart is still beating. 
”alright, then,” he suddenly proclaims, breaking the fleeting silence. ”your turn.”
a blink. your eyelashes flutter in confusion, as you gaze up at him, a question painted on your features. suguru glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
”you’ve been stressed, lately,” he remarks. stating the obvious so you don’t have to. with a soft gaze, eyes that shimmer with understanding. ”i can tell, you know?”
(yeah. he always can, can’t he?)
”… uh,” you croak. clearing your throat and attempting to gather your thoughts, hoping the words will find their way to your lips. ”well. i dunno, really...”
suguru emits a low, affirmative noise, not looking at you. opening up like this makes you feel so uncomfortable. but it’s suguru. you trust him. and you know he won’t let you get away from this, either; he’ll stay up all night if he has to. just waiting for you to put your faith in him.
a sigh leaves your lips, finally, and it comes out sounding just a tad exhausted. ”i… guess i’ve just been thinking, lately.”
and, really, it’s an understatement. thinking is all you’ve been doing, for these past few weeks. thinking of this, and of that. the past and the future. him and you.
suguru hums. an unspoken encouragement.
”everything is just so…” you move your hands, haphazardly, hoping they’ll make the words easier to say. but nothing comes to you. everything is all jumbled up, inside your mind, and it’s just — 
”overwhelming,” you finish. the word falls off your tongue like a tidal wave. ”everything passes by so quickly, and…” you bite your lip. ”i feel like i can’t catch up. i can’t visualize the future at all, and that’s…”
(it’s scary.)
”— it just makes me feel confused.”
suguru waits. patient, attentive, making sure you get all the words out before he speaks. as grounding as the moon, as warm as the sun. 
when you don’t elaborate further, avoiding his gaze, he opts to finally soothe you.
”that’s understandable,” he chimes, voice buzzing with care. ”you don’t have to think about the future right now. living in the present is enough,” a breeze drifts by, tousling his black hair. ”.. it’s for the best, really.”
a smile. it’s a little sad, as you wring your hands together. ”i know,” is all you can say. because you do. it just doesn’t change anything.
the sensation of your nails scraping against the tiles of the roof is discomforting, but you don’t stop. when you part your lips, your voice comes out tiny. barely above a whisper.
”i’m so afraid of change.”
suguru looks at you. his gaze softens, impeccably.
”everything keeps changing. all the time,” you bite into the flesh of your cheek, harshly. ”i hate it.”
”that’s understandable, too,” suguru soothes. tentative, as his hand goes to rest on your head, smoothing down your hair gently. ”change is unavoidable. but you get better at dealing with it.”
”mm, i know.”
”and some things stay the same, too.” 
you glance up at him, and his eyes crinkle. there’s something unspeakable in them, something that’s always been there. light and heavy, all at once. something a little bit too wonderful for words.
suguru smiles. almost a little shy, as he looks into your eyes. ”like you and me.”
a deep love unfurls in your chest, warming you up from the inside out. fuzzy and tingly. but with it comes a deep sadness, bittersweet, that you can’t chase away no matter how hard you try; like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, no matter how many times you try to scrape it off against the concrete.
like you and me.
(he doesn’t know that’s what scares you the most. the thought of that one thing changing, while you just stand there, helpless to stop it.)
”yeah,” you breathe. a wounded little breath.
suguru notices it, despite your vague attempts to act like nothing’s wrong. he notices the fear in your voice, the uncertainty. and once again, he gets the impression that you look a little lost. like you aren’t sure where to plant your feet.
it bothers him. an itch he wants to scratch away. but before he can get to the bottom of it, you begin to speak, once more.
”with you, it’s like…” a breath flows from your lips, as you try to find the words. but this time, they come to you with relative ease. ”if i could do my life over again, and make everything turn out different… then i’d still always keep you.”
silence. you continue, suddenly a little embarrassed at the honesty in your tone. but it’s too late to back out now. 
”and even if everything else changes, if i could pick just one single thing to keep — then it’d be you, too.” the smile on your face is small, a little sheepish. “that’s how it is, so…” 
you trail off. not sure what else to say. suguru isn’t, either; he feels just a little bit stunned, in the face of your sincerity. yet he parts his lips, softly, words making themselves manifest before his mind can even begin to catch up.
”i don’t think i’ve ever told you this,” he begins, not entirely sure where the words will take him. blinking up at the sky, entranced, whilst you look at him quizzically. ”you always call me your guardian angel, right?”
the question makes your lips curl up. it’s a habit of yours, one that’s become almost muscle memory. you don’t remember how it started, but it’s in everything suguru does; from the way he can always tell when you’re feeling overwhelmed, to the way he never fails to bring you a coffee right before your exam starts. 
suguru is always looking out for you, even when you’re apart. like a guardian angel. yours.
you nod. ”because you are.”
suguru smiles, breathing out a fond chuckle, and then shakes his head. ”it’s the opposite.”
you turn to the man beside you, and he’s already looking at you. with his pretty, soothing brown eyes, and the barely visible dark circles beneath them. his gaze is warm and fond, grateful in a way that makes your chest squeeze tight. you melt a little, under its weight.
”you’re my guardian angel,” he says, sickeningly sweet. ”always have been. even back then.”
inhaling the mild air, suguru lets his eyes flutter shut. the taste reminds him of the summer vacations you used to have as kids, when you would ride your bikes to the nearest river and play all day. stopping by any ice cream stand you found on the way there; you always took a bite out of his without asking, and he always tried to get angry at you. but he never could. 
on your way back home, the sky was always dark. a soothing blue hue, stars glittering in the distance, while the moon looked close enough to touch. a night just like this one. you’d walk, together, talking about everything and nothing — sometimes he’d carry you on his back. not once did he drop you. 
a breath, deep and drawn out as he exhales, basking in memories you aren’t privy to. a saccharine smile painted on his lips.
”without you…” he muses, voice a little breathless. fond, and somewhat helpless. but he’s smiling. ”i don’t really know what i’d do, to be honest.”
a moment passes.
”it’s the same for me,” you echo, words escaping your throat before you even get the chance to realize their weight. gaze stuck to the stars, as always. ”i can’t imagine life without you.”
suguru doesn’t speak, afraid that his heart may crawl out his throat if he does. the honeyed smile on his face says more than words ever could, anyway. 
a small bout of laughter leaves your lips. sudden, sad, dripping with longing. it surprises you, catches you off guard — like something within you just overflowed. 
“you know what my biggest fantasy was?” you grin, ruefully. maybe just a little manic. ”i used to think about it all the time, when we were kids.”
suguru looks at you in silence, but there’s a confusion in the way he tilts his head.
there seems to be a knot of some kind, stuck in the very bottom of your chest. something that makes it hard to speak. ”i’d get on a train, and just kinda… leave,” you breathe, hoping it’ll unclog your throat. it doesn’t. ”you know? to somewhere far, far away.” 
and suddenly, the world grows just a little blurred. suguru can see it, in your eyes — you’re someplace else now. gaze trained on something he can’t see. there’s an amused touch to your voice, but also something rather pitiful. a childish wish that never came to fruition.
there’s regret, there, suguru thinks; something close to pain.
”maybe, like… a small port town,” you continue, closing your eyes. “with a cute little café close by, or whatever… somewhere you can see the sea.” 
another breath. you pretend it tastes like salt, like an ocean breeze. then you swallow the lump in your throat, and whisper. ”with you.”
when you finally muster up the courage to meet suguru’s eyes, they shine with nothing but pure understanding. he doesn’t say anything, but he understands. he’s always been like that. not a single word is needed for him to ground you, the way a rock always meets the bottom when it’s thrown into the depths of a lake. 
suguru’s comfort is as natural to you as the gravity that keeps the stars up in the sky.
the voice you’ve grown so used to hearing reaches your ears again, and it’s a low sound, a little raspy. but soft. achingly so, enough that you could almost miss it if you weren’t always so aware of every word that falls from his lips.
suguru looks up at the moon, in tandem with you, and lets the ghost of a smile show. ”… you know what my biggest fantasy was?”
his gaze is sincere, a little forlorn; hopelessly softened, as you meet his eyes. they’re painted over with something sweet, and something that looks just a little bit like regret.
a tilt of your head beckons him to continue, and the corners of his lips curl up further. 
”running away with you,” he breathes. ”anywhere at all. wherever you wanted to go, i’d follow.”
for a moment or two, all you can do is stare. 
you feel your lips part, but no sound comes out, nothing at all. suguru’s hair sways with the breeze, softly, and the light of the moon makes him look somewhat ethereal. like he could disappear if you blinked. 
the silence that blooms in the space between your words is fragile. precious, if a little overwhelming, as it stretches out before you — growing heavier with every passing second. so tender that it makes you feel sick to your stomach, as if the sound of the wind whistling could shatter it into pieces. 
(your heart aches, aches, aches.)
a weak laugh bubbles up from within your throat, something raw and tender hidden behind a veil of faux amusement. something vulnerable you're trying to cover up, like the glassiness of your eyes.
like a memory that never got to happen.
”what, so you’re saying we could’ve been by the seaside by now…?” you groan, forehead slumping against your knees with a bonk. ”what the hell, dude…” 
suguru lets out a chuckle, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm and looking down at you with a smile on his face. one that reaches his eyes, glimmering with something akin to starlight.
”we can still go there,” he consoles you, reaching over to tousle your hair with a palpable softness. ”to the seaside, i mean. i’ll take you.”
for a while, you don’t say anything. a pout plays at your lips, as you attempt to get your emotions under control. 
then you lean back, to lie down flat on the roof. the movement is so sudden that it stings a little when the back of your head meets the tiles, and you wince — a soft but exasperated murmur of careful comes from the boy on your left.
your elbows go to cushion your head, as you take in the immenseness of the sky. ”alright, then,” you hum. ”take me there sometime soon.”
suguru blinks. then his lips curl up. ”got it,” he chirps. mentally mapping out a nice spot, trying to remember the timetables at your local train station.
(next week, maybe. a picnic by the sea. he’ll make those sandwiches that you like.)
then he follows your lead, and goes to lie down on his back. right by your side, so close he can smell the fading scent of your shampoo, curled up right next to you. breathing out a sigh as he takes in the night sky in all its glory. 
there’s something tender, in the air. something that doesn’t need words. a kind of comfortable silence that you’ve learned to treasure, whenever suguru is with you.
so you simply stare at the dark veil over the city, in tandem with him — a pitch-black blanket sewn with stardust.
everything expands, before your very eyes; an infinite cosmos, with all the light you could ever want. the stars blink down at you, as if saying hello, mapping out the galaxy. you try to find the constellations you’re familiar with, the ones suguru have taught you about in the past, but nothing really comes to you.
it’s nice, though. just staring at the stars in wonder.
an exhale, as you breathe in, and then out. you part your lips to whisper, breaking the sleepy silence.
”the stars are so pretty….” 
suguru hums, the sound buzzing right by your ear. a soothing summer lullaby, that only you get to hear. ”yeah,” he whispers back.
a moment passes.
then you both part your lips to speak; smoothly, in a fashion that would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so terribly safe in each other’s company. simultaneous, as the sentence tumbles from your throats.
”and so are you.”
silence. the seconds stretch on, and on. everything goes quiet.
you’re the first one to burst into laughter — deep, the kind that comes from the very bottom of your stomach. almost wheezing, as you try to catch your breath, arms snug around your shaking body. suguru follows close behind, trying to contain his laughter, but you can hear his little chuckles clear as day.
”eww, what the fuck?” you grin, shifting to lie on your side so you can get a good look at his face. ”you’re so corny!”
suguru snorts. ”i heard you say it too, dumbass.”
a little giggle flows from your lips, and you slump against his shoulder, still trying to control your breathing. suguru curls an arms around your midriff, bringing you closer. muscle memory, to make it more comfortable for you.
”haah…..”
the smile on your face shines brighter than the stars, suguru thinks, looking at you with a bleeding kind of fondness. as if you’re the only thing worth looking at.
”i hope things stay like this forever.”
the light of the moon shines down on the roof, bouncing off the white of your teeth. your canines shine in the dark as you grin, youthful — but there’s a sadness in your eyes, now. one that suguru will never fail to notice.
(one he’ll always yearn to smooth away, the same way his thumb always goes to wipe at any stray eyelashes on your skin, or crumbs at the corner of your mouth. muscle memory.)
”they will,” he assures you, reaching over to find your hand. enveloping it in his bigger one, cradling it, linking your fingers together and squeezing them softly. ”i’ll make sure that they do.”
a chuckle leaves your lips, but suguru thinks it sounds a little meek. like you still don’t believe him.
”i mean it,” he reiterates. more serious this time.
”i know,” you grin. ”but, i mean —”
a moment passes, and then your grin falters. ”you can’t promise that, though.” the expression on your face seems sort of pained, now, troubled by something. ”maybe we’ll move away from each other, or just drift apart, or —”
”that would never happen to us —”
”maybe you’ll meet someone.”
”a nice guy, or girl…” a sigh, as you run a hand through your hair. ”and then you’ll… i dunno. get married, i guess. and then eventually you’ll have kids, and buy a house, and —” 
a pause. in a smaller voice, you continue. almost childlike. ”you’ll leave me behind.”
suguru bites back a scoff. it takes concentrated effort. he turns to look at you, but you won’t meet his gaze, and a frown finds its way to his lips. ”… do you honestly think that’s what i want?”
another moment passes you by. more seconds lost, never to return. ”… isn’t it?”
suguru sighs, a little exasperated. maybe just a little hurt, too. ”marriage and kids aside…” he mutters, burning holes into your skin with his steadfast gaze. determined, self-assured. the tilt of his voice leaves no room for doubt. ”there’s only one person i love.”
resisting the temptation to keep your eyes away from him becomes nearly impossible — so you let your gaze trail over, and take him in. in all his glory, silky black hair framing his face, a soft look painted over his features. looking at you as if you matter, as if nothing matters except for you.
and again, something breaks out across the scope of his iris, a shooting star you don’t know what to do with. he looks so hopelessly sincere. 
for a second, all you can do is stare.
then you nod, solemnly. ”satoru, right?” you hum. ”you’re gonna break my heart if you keep bringing him up when we’re together, sugu.”
you don’t need to see his face to know that he’s giving you that unimpressed look, again. the suguru look. he rolls his eyes, and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.
”i love him too, but that’s different,” he huffs.
”how so?” you prod, eyes crinkling. but there’s something a little meek about the question. he notices it, of course, because what doesn’t suguru notice?
something soft curls around his features, and a hum buzzes in his throat. a heavy tenderness bleeds into his voice. ”i wouldn’t die for satoru,” he says, simply.
a moment passes.
”… you totally would.”
”huh?” suguru blinks. ”no, of course not. are you insane?”
”suguru,” you sigh. ”you are literally the most self-sacrificial bitch i’ve ever met —”
”well, obviously i’d take a bullet or two, but —”
”what do you mean obviously —”
”— you’re the only person i’d die for.”
suguru is smiling, now. amused, sincere. almost on the verge of laughter, the sweet and soft kind that always turns your heart into a puddle. his eyes almost seem to glimmer, in the night, and it’s all you can see for a while. as you try to gather your thoughts, get the right words out.
”… always so dramatic,” you murmur, at last, a little gruff. his smile grows. you shift a little more, lying on your side to face him with a serious expression. ”don’t tell satoru that, okay? he already has it out for me. at this rate he’ll kill me and steal you away.”
a chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep and fond. you continue, a frown tugging at your lips. ”… and i wouldn’t want you to die for me, anyway.”
suguru lets a giggle slip, a bit too sleepy to hold it back. ”mm, i know. but if it ever came down to it, then i still would.” he shifts, too, lying on his side to face you properly.
”to me,” he exhales, and he’s so close you can smell the mint off his breath — ”as long as you’re by my side, i can make it through absolutely anything.”
the smile on his face is boyish. all teeth and crow’s feet, blooming in the light of the moon, a flower just for you. it’s perfect, you think. you don’t want a single day to pass without you seeing it. 
”me too,” you mumble, linking your pinkies together. a silent promise. ”so don’t die. ever.”
suguru’s eyes soften. 
then he hums, absentmindedly. ”… well. i mean,” he clicks his tongue. ”eventually i will. that’s not really something i have a say in.”
a roll of your eyes. ”alright, smartass,” you scoff, and suguru’s eyes crinkle with humour. ”just don’t die before i do, then.”
a hand comes to touch your skin. and it’s sudden, warm, but you don’t flinch away. suguru smooths over your cheek with the back of his hand, seemingly unable to stop himself. soothing, as he exhales a soft breath.
”… i think i’d prefer that to the alternative, honestly,” he admits.
you furrow your brows, softly. a part of you wants to protest, to call him a selfish prick — for even thinking the thought of leaving you behind without a best friend.
but something in you knows he won’t budge, on this one.
(it’s childish, in a way. stubborn, for him to take a joking conversation so seriously. but suguru doesn’t think he could even jokingly suggest that he’d survive without you.)
”seriously, though,” his voice takes on a firmer tone. ”i wouldn’t leave you behind like that. it’s us we’re talking about. you and me.” 
he says the words like they’re undeniable — because they are. there is no him without you. that’s always been the case, hasn’t it? 
suguru stops to think. do you not feel the same? there’s still a crease between your brows, a sign of worry that’s impossible to dismiss. he can’t help but wonder just how long you’ve been thinking about this; how many nights have you spent sleepless, thinking of the future? of the possibility that it entails your parting?
(the thought makes him feel a little bit nauseous.)
”are you afraid that we’ll grow apart?” he asks, into the haze of the summer night. it resounds in the air around you, softly spoken, gentle but coaxing. almost pleading you to open up to him.
and it’s a stupid question, really. 
of course you are. it’s the only thought that really scares you.
time moves so, so fast — always leaving you behind. who’s to say that suguru won’t do the same? that he won’t be taken away from you, swept away by that flow? into the future, while you stay glued to the past — stuck on the roof of your childhood, while he moves on to better things?
the night sky is infinite. sometimes, on nights that are a little too long, when your mind has grown a little too muddled, you think of suguru as a star in that sky. blinking down at you, while you can do nothing but watch. hopelessly out of reach.
gaze trailing down to rest on suguru’s collarbone, you swallow the lump in your throat. a little too vulnerable to feel comfortable with looking into his eyes, afraid of what you’ll see in them.
but he’s patient. waiting, always waiting, for you to catch up. for as long as it takes.
”… of course i am,” you mutter, at last. a weak little thing. farther down the street, a car swooshes by, drowning the sound — but suguru still hears it clear as day. ”i mean, it’s just…”
a meek intake of breath. you blink, desperate to chase away the glassiness forming in your eyes. trying to grasp control over your wavering voice. ”even if you say that we won’t… it’s not like there’s any guarantee. you can’t know for sure.”
suguru wants to stop you, right there. wants to ensure you that he does know, that it’s the only thing he’ll ever know for sure. just that one fact; you and him. never one without the other.
wherever you’d go, he’d follow — that’s how it’s always been. that’s all he’ll ever need.
but he knows you. knows you better than he knows himself. and he knows that he needs to let you speak freely, without interruption, until you’ve gotten every last worry off your chest.
so he settles for simply looking at you, curled up and biting his lip to stop himself from speaking. wishing he could smooth away the moisture in your eyes, already — but the tears need to fall first. he knows it’ll make you feel better.
”i love you,” you whisper, and suguru’s heart claws its way up his throat. ”i love you, and i want to be with you forever — but…” a shaky inhale. ”but i can’t get rid of that fear. the idea of losing you… i just can’t deal with it.”
”don’t you think i feel exactly the same?” he cuts in, softly. 
a beat. you glance up at his face, for a split second, and then back down to his collarbone. a little fragile, curling into yourself as if hiding. ”i don’t know,” you sigh.
(suguru’s heart breaks.)
”i know that you love me too, and all. and i trust you. but…” you trail off, swallowing thickly. ”you already have your future planned out, and everything. maybe i just… don’t have a place in it.”
suguru scoffs, unable to bite back the sound any longer. it’s soft, but frustrated. ”there’ll always be a place for you in my future,” he vows. ”i wouldn’t accept anything less.”
you cower a little, under the warmth of his gaze. sweet, but stern. so distinctly suguru that it makes you falter.
”besides,” he clicks his tongue. ”i don’t need to follow the future that’s been planned out for me. i just need to be suguru.” a warm smile. ”right?”
at the sound of your own words, a light flush blooms on your skin. but for once, suguru isn’t teasing you.
”and you just need to be you,” he continues, arm still wrapped around your midriff. trailing up slowly, so that his hand can smooth over the back of your head. ”that’s all.”
”as long as both of us do that — we’ll always be together.” he looks into your eyes, and you think you spot a constellation inside his iris. ”won’t we?”
another moment of silence, the familiar comfort that settles between you. there’s no pressure to continue — but you do so, anyway. muddled mind still spinning, worried about this and that, despite suguru’s soothing words. 
a part of you can’t put your faith in that kind of future. one where the two of you are together, that you could envision so clearly when you were younger — when him and you was all that you knew for certain. it’s not as simple as it was back then.
(but another part of you desperately yearns for him to prove you wrong.)
”… but,” you mumble, shaky. ”what if it’s not that easy?” a chuckle pushes past your lips, humourless. ”i mean, you can’t possibly… always stay by my side, you know?”
there’s something childish, in the way you say it. like you’re still kids, and you’re whining for him not to leave you behind. selfish, in a way.
what right do you have to chain him to you?
suguru emits a hum. his eyelids flutter shut, for a few seconds — and then he opens them again. 
”… alright,” he drawls. ”let’s make a promise, then.”
confused, you glance up at him. he just smiles — responsible, dependable. your very best friend.
”have i ever broken a promise i made to you?” he asks, and you pause.
”… no,” you answer, hesitant. voice still a tad meek, a little helpless.
(and it’s true. not once has he broken one. when suguru makes a promise, he keeps it. you’ve always, always admired that about him.)
”right?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. admiring your moon-lit features. ”so let’s do it.”
a frown tugs at your lips. furrowing your brows at him, your voice flows out, uncertain. ”promise… what, exactly?”
the moon glows, big and bright. hanging in the sky, a beacon of light, the same as it’s always been. suguru thinks you look radiant, under its illumination — even though you’re nervous, and a little teary eyed. just a single glance at your expression is enough to make his heartbeat soften.
you look like what home feels like. 
he could never bear to let that go, to let you go. his very best friend; the one thing in his past he has no qualms about. the one thing in his future worth hanging onto, cherishing fully. no matter what.
suguru parts his lips, smiling. he links your hands together. ”keep being you,” he implores, steadfast. ”and stay by my side.”
a moment passes. 
something crumbles, inside your chest. unable to break away from his gaze, all you can do is fall deeper into the hue of his eyes, crinkling softly — in the same way they always have. he squeezes your palm in his, tightly. a silent promise not to let you go.
— and then you realize something. the same realization that always comes to you, at the end of the day.
the man in front of you is just the same as the boy you met, all those years ago. the same boy who saw you climb over his fence, and let you pet his cat, and watched whisper of the heart with you even though he wanted to start with ponyo instead.
the same boy, always the same boy, no matter how much time passes. even though he’s all grown up now, features more defined. voice deeper and huskier. hands larger, with rougher skin.
he’s changed, just like you have — but he’s still just suguru. just that cool, sweet boy. a dorky guy who never, ever lets you fall too far behind.
a tremendous softness seeps through your veins. a kind of love, old and matured, carefully nurtured. the blinks you indulge in are slow, and your eyes shine with tears. it’s overwhelming, seeing him so up close, but you still can’t look away. he’s so beautiful it hurts.
”suguru…” is all you can sniffle, meekly.
your best friend is still smiling, fondly. wrapped up in you, as close as he can be. a familiar warmth, like a big fuzzy blanket draped over your shoulders; smelling of cedarwood and earl gray, and just a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. tailor-made just for you.
suguru never breaks his promises.
”but… you can’t,” you croak out, gasping as if searching for air. ”you don’t know if —”
”i do,” he cuts you off, gently. ”i do know.”
a breathless inhale of air, as you grasp tighter onto his nimble fingers. you feel meek, lost. not sure where to put your hands, or what to believe. ”how?” you ask, terribly fragile.
suguru takes a deep breath. oxygen enters his lungs, exiting as he breathes out. a soft flicker of life. his thumb goes to wipe away the stray tear that trickles down your cheek, his touch delicate. and then comes his response.
”— because i need you the way i need air.”
and, really, it’s a sappy thing to say. a little pretentious. he’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the soft flicker of the moon, the intimacy of the moment. he simply couldn’t bear not to tell you the truth — even if you end up bringing it up tomorrow, just to tease him. he can deal with a little embarrassment, every once in a while. just for you.
fortunately for him, no thoughts of teasing run through your mind. maybe if you were in a better headspace, a little less of a wreck, you could muster the will to make fun of him a little. who do you think you are, shakespeare? i knew i shouldn’t have lent you that copy of romeo and juliet. — something light and amused, just to distract him from the rapid beating of your heart. 
but right now…
all you can do is take a deep breath. and you think you understand what he means, when that breath of life courses through your lungs.
”i’ll never leave you behind,” he continues, words so very self-assured that it leaves you reeling. rubbing comforting circles into the skin of your palm, without thinking. muscle memory. ”can you trust me on that?”
connected to his gaze, you stumble for something to say. anything. 
but then he smiles, again. that familiar, familiar smile. as soothing as a mother’s caress. and only one single word makes it past your lips.
”… okay.”
you do trust him. more than anyone else in the world. so you take that leap, no matter how frightening it is —
and the world narrows down to just the two of you.
just you, and him, in this one single moment. illuminated by the light of the moon, lying side by side and looking into each other’s eyes, on a roof you always find yourselves at one way or another. laughing and sharing secrets until the sun begins to rise; a silent promise that needs no words. 
(the promise of tomorrow. a summer that never quite seems to end.)
suguru cups your cheek. his touch buzzes with warmth, trickling down his wrist and through his veins — and you melt into his palm, eyes fluttering shut instinctively. the sight makes the corners of his lips curl up, hopelessly.
leaning close, he plants a kiss on your cheek. delicate, tender; his lips against your skin, a silent whisper of i love you. fervent, full of devotion. of a love that’s as steady as the sea.
”i’ll always, always be by your side,” suguru repeats, like a mantra. hoping you’ll feel his conviction through the whisper. ”you’ll always have me to fall back on. i promise.”
a little smile breaks out across your lips, meek and teary. as fragile as a sheet of glass, but still persisting in the dead of night. your voice wavers, as you raise your pinkie, right in front of his stupidly pretty face.
”pinkie promise?”
it’s a childish gesture. something to lighten the mood a little, make it all easier to chew. you expect him to roll his eyes, or raise an eyebrow, or tease you a bit. but he doesn’t.
instead, suguru raises his own pinkie, and curls it around yours. then he smiles. sweet and boyish, painted over with a rosy, tender nostalgia.
”— pinkie promise.”
and you believe him.
you believe him, because suguru has a way of making you do so, even when he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. with that confident tilt of his voice, that makes it sound like he has all the answers in the universe — that flicker of genuine faith, in every word that falls from his lips, that tells you he truly does believe in them.
you believe him, because suguru is the only person in the world who’s never once broken a promise he made to you. not a single time. and some part of you suspects that if he ever did, he really would be okay with you cutting his pinkie off. a little frightening, the depths of his devotion. the pure loyalty that courses through his veins.
so you believe him.
you believe him because he’s suguru. and, just like you can't exist without him, he can't exist without you. never one without the other.
on instinct, you inch a little closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him extra tight. face hidden away in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do when you were kids. he’s bigger now, harder to properly embrace — but still so very, very warm. 
and he squeezes you back, just as tight. comforting and grounding, and so, so secure. tugging you closer, like he needs to have you near to properly breathe. like he needs to feel that you’re there to relax, melting into the hug with a soft sigh. relieved, that you’re still with him. relieved at the promise that you always will be. 
wherever you go, he’ll follow. to the roof of his home, to the seaside, to the ends of the earth. the same way every star in the sky orbits around the center of the galaxy, endlessly, before burning out into the night.
the smell of cedarwood and earl gray floods your senses, filling your lungs as you nuzzle into his neck. he’s warm, and soft, and your very best friend. 
you close your eyes. indulging in his body heat, every familiar sensation that’s been etched into your bones for as long as you can remember. and you can tell he’s doing the same — breathing you in, arms resting securely around your back, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.
and maybe it’s true, after all. maybe suguru really does need you, just as much as you need him.
and maybe that’s all you really need to know.
the moon rests in the sky. smiling down at you, unchanging. a living proof that some things really do stay the same. 
— you hug suguru tighter, and decide that his presence is proof enough. 
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ghouljams · 19 days
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professor ghost on love's bday: she doesnt like to make a big deal of it and he cant wor up the nerve to give her his gift himself, so he leaves it in her office. its a manuscript, a scribbled out on curled pages, unfinished thing that ghost had to write down so the words would stop screaming in his head. all the edits he has to make to his old work since love came into his life.
Not edits, no, a new thesis entirely. If his first book was a meditation on grief, a thesis on the state of belief in misery, an exploration of predeterminism and fate, then this one is a true love letter. It's frankly embarrassing, but he can't stop thinking about it. None of the words are right. His writing is frantic, messy, nothing like the cool explanatory tone of his other books. He has no references to cite. Or- no, he has plenty of references.
He thinks of Aristotle, of his single soul theory(bullshit, Ghost rejects, my love is whole, she's too much to be half of me, and if she were what a terribly presupposition: that we are all divided into Joy and Sorrow like me and my love).
He thinks of Plato's Symposium, of breaking love into three parts(But that's too small, she can't be broken down into parts: eros, philia, agape. She makes him want to be better, she is passion, she is love in all forms, love to the point of inspiration, love to the point of consumption, to change and be changed. How could he break her into smaller pieces when he wants all of her?)
Ovid maintained that romantic love should never be consummated, that in its purest form it should grow beyond its physical needs, becoming transcendental. What does it mean that his skin craves her every touch, that he can't sleep without her dancing through his dreams? How is he supposed to maintain his distance when she presses to him at every opportunity? When he can't find anything but sorrow without the sight of her?
Ghost scribbles on his papers like a madman. He finds notes on receipts, on the backs of paper bags, in the margins of his books. He reads over the notes Love has left him and feels his heart squeeze in such a pleasantly hurtful way.
Behaviorism perhaps. It's all quantifiable, he just needs to find the right numbers. Or maybe aesthetic philosophy would be better? Feelings which cannot be captured through written language.
Yet the scribbling takes over his work. His walls covered in post its and pencil marks, his laptop running like a jet engine as he pours what must be incomprehensible drivel into his word processor. Ghost pushes his fingers under his glasses, feels the press of the bridge into his forehead, begs for his brain to be quiet, for his stomach to stop clenching each time he thinks about Love. He drags his hand down to cover his mouth, breathing as deep as he can manage through his nose. It all feels heavy, impossibly heavy.
None of it is right, none of it feels big enough, encompasses enough to describe the way he feels. None of the philosophers talk about the actual feeling of it. They don't talk about it hurting, don't mention how much he craves the pain of her.
Maybe he's a masochist.
He sends the draft to his editor with an apology.
"2.5 kids and a dog, eh?" Is the only response he gets.
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Ghost x Reader
NSFW, 18+, Shameless Smut, No Plot, Porn w/out Plot, Sex in the dark, Explicit, Graphic Language, Teasing, Touch-Starved Touching, Embarassing, First Time Together, Fingering, Sloppy Kisses, Somewhat Rough Sex, slightly Intimate, Ghost is a bit of a dom, Reader's a bit snarky, Slightly Proof Read, I'll fix what I miss later :)
First time writing a smut one-shot with zero plot sooooo here's my trial run. I'm a recovering former Catholic schoolgirl, bear with me. Enjoy. (。ˇ ⊖ˇ)♡
Word Count: 2.4k
Also I take requests, or I would like to, or I might just poll who I should write next. ヾ(´▽`;)ゝ My other one-shot Soap | Price
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You step into a dark bedroom, reaching over to flip on the light switch. That's when you feel Ghost's cold, gloved hand stop you halfway. Your hand, which is small in comparison to his own, can't help but be encompassed by his sudden grasp.
The door shuts behind you both, you and Ghost now standing in a nearly pitch-black bedroom. Alone.
"The lights stay off," Ghost orders.
The gravelly-like sound of his voice is deep in this empty room, soothing through your ears and sending a chill down your spine. You can just make out the large silhouette of his body, towering over you like a great, big shadow. Ready to devour you and leave you used.
And you wanted him to use you. To fill you with all he has to give. You've lusted for his touch since you first laid eyes on him. You longed to feel his strong grasp around your throat, his teeth against your skin, his cock buried deep in you. You always wondered what a man who brandishes a skull mask of all things would desire of you.
Your own hand could only suffice for so many nights. It was time for the real thing.
And you knew Ghost had wanted it too. He had wanted you bad. Not being able to have you until now only fueled his growing insatiable craving for you. His skin practically simmers from the rising arousal.
"No lights at all?" You pout.
"What's the matter?" The teasing tone to his voice lowers, as does his hand, as you feel his fingers trail up your arm. It leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, before he's let it rest at the side of your jaw, taking a soft hold of your face. "You afraid of the dark?"
You feel his deep, olive eyes look you up and down hungrily through the darkness. Exploring every inch of your body. He could picture all the curves to you, his hands hardly able to keep away from reaching out. Envisioning your body shaking by the end of this, the anticipation having his blood rushing just thinking about it.
His thumb lightly trails over your lip, the glove of his thumb gently grazing it, faintly tugging. He parts them for himself, your tongue just slightly brushing against him. It makes a whimper leave your lips, as you start to playfully nip at the fabric of his glove with your teeth, coaxing something dark inside him.
"It's just us now, love," Ghost whispers. "I want these walls crumblin' down once I'm through with you."
You lift both your hands and let them dance delicately over his, your own hands so small it takes the two of them to even hold the entire thing. You tug at the fabric, removing the glove from his skin and revealing his bare knuckles to you. If not for the dark which surrounded them.
Unable to truly see him for youself, you let your touch fill that yearning to look upon him. You let the glove fall to the floor, as your hands take his again, your warmth clashing with the iciness of his own touch.
"Why don't you make that happen then," you taunt him.
You take his index finger and bring it to your lips, letting your tongue slowly swirl around it, as your saliva coats him, your breath making his skin shiver. You gently bob your head forward and suck his finger, taking your time getting it wet for him. Only just faintly being able to make out his mask in the dark.
You hear Ghost let out a heavy breath, before he's got you pressed flush against the door. He uses his large thigh between your legs and his other arm to box you in, his body pressing roughly against you, keeping you pinned against the door.
You were at a point of no return now. If this was what you wanted, then Ghost was prepared to give it to you, as he saw fit.
Ghost brings his free hand down, roughly pulling down the short little skirt you'd had your ass hanging out of all night, until you've felt the fabric hit your ankles below you. The second they hit the floor, Ghost plucks his finger from your lips, deciding to swap for a new pair to play with instead.
His fingers dip beneath your lace panties, letting those fall to your feet next, the chill of his hand making you jolt lightly, as you gasp. That's when he feels how dripping wet you had been this whole time. You coat the man's fingers in a matter of seconds, which he can't help but chuckle at.
"Fuckin' hell," he teases you. "Say less."
"Fuck you," you tease.
Ghost responds by bringing two wet fingers to your clit, massaging smooth circles against it, and sending a jolt of knee-wobbling pleasure through you. He gets the rhythm down damn near instantly, working a magic you should have only known he possessed. You can't help but moan to his touch, your head pressing back against the door as your body chases his fingers.
"You were saying?" Ghost teases you again. Only this time, before you've time to say something else, you feel his fingers make their way towards the entrance of your cunt, ghosting the hole purposefully, letting his hands grow damp with you. It makes the air catch in your throat.
His fingers slowly curve in, the warmth of your walls gripping tightly in retaliation. He pumps them in and out, going just a little deeper, each time they sank back in.
Pretty soon you've felt him go knuckle deep, his palm smacking roughly against your clit at each thrust. Each time left you throbbing with arousal, making you shake. The visceral, wet noises that came from your cunt paled in comparison to the moans you released alongside them.
The sensation was almost so overwhelming that your mind couldn't think straight. Tears welled at the corners of your eyes, as your voice took a mind of its own, letting Ghost know vocally just how much you enjoyed having his fingers roughly play with you like that.
Ghost would never forget these sweet sounds you made for him. They'll live in his mind 'til the day he dies, he's sure. As he'll be forever chasing after them now. Hearing you had been a newfound high
He eventually takes his hands from you, your fluids leaving a web-like trail on its exit out. In that brief moment, having found some composure over yourself, you let your hands raise up, until they've stopped at the edge of Ghost's balaclava.
You pause before attempting to lift it up, letting your fingers rest there, signaling to him what you wanted.
"Can I?" you ask.
Ghost pauses.
One of his hands meets your wrist, though it doesn't attempt to pull you away. Holding you there, instead. Hesitantly even.
Right now, he appeared but a dark figure you could only just make out, hellbent on seeing you at your most vulnerable. Ghost wouldn't let you see him. Not completely. And you would respect that. You could be happy with just the touch of him instead. The taste of him in your mouth could be enough.
Tonight at least.
When you see he won't stop you, you slowly begin to lift up his mask. You feel the fabric glide up the sides of his neck as he holds his breath. You bring it to the bridge of his nose, letting your fingers graze against his cheeks, and tracing the stubble of his defined jawline. Simply trying to feel a picture of him in to your mind.
The whole time, Ghost stands there frozen. Letting you touch him, not having let someone do so in such an intimate matter in quite some time now. Too long of a time. He's forgotten how bare it makes him feel. And yet, he didn't want you to stop.
You mirror his actions from before, letting your thumb brush against his bottom lip. You feel it quiver, and it makes you smile.
"Don't get shy now," you purr.
You flip that switch in him, and like a predator that's just caught its prey, his mouth is on yours, pressing against you so hard that his body nearly smashes you against the door. It releases a gasp out of you, one that Ghost uses to let his tongue take a quick swipe against yours, stealing a taste.
You chase his as it retreats, your lips following him organically. As though your mouths were two puzzle pieces; perfectly fitted for one another.
His kisses quickly turn starved, his tongue exploring every available inch your mouth provided to him, dominating you in every way. Letting you know that from here on out, your mouth belonged to him and him alone. Your lips. Your tongue. Your taste. You.
You belonged to him now.
You nip at his lip suddenly, giggling at the little gasp he lets out afterward. In response, Ghost brings his hands to the hem of your shirt and lifts it over your head, leaving you now bare before him, just as a silhouette in the dark to him as he were to you.
He brings his teeth to the groove between your neck, searing them deep and bringing a light hiss out of you. At the same time, his hands meet your breast, his finger gently rubbing against your nipples, as his palms massaged you gingerly.
His hands feel you as though he planned to sculpt a new woman out of you, and his lips trail down your neck as though they could help him memorize the taste your skin left lingering at every peck.
Your fingers grip at the back of his neck, pulling him in, clawing into what little skin he left bare for you to feel beneath his lifted mask. The sting your nails leave makes him throb almost painfully so.
Ghost pries his lips from you, letting his hands slide roughly down past your ass, before taking hold of your thighs. With one quick movement, he hoists you up, allowing your legs to straddle his waist. He then presses himself against you, grinding hard into you.
The sudden flood of ecstasy it washes over him brings a low, shaky breath out of him. One he wasn't too used to making. He continues grinding against you, keeping your back pressed against the wall and both his large hands gripped firmly beneath your ass, his hands moving you almost like you were his own personal doll.
And you submit.
You submit completely to him, keeping your hands wrapped around his neck, as the grinding of his hardening cock through his uniform re-erupts that lustful flood he'd pulled out of you only minutes ago.
Using the wall to help keep you upright, Ghost brings one of his hands down to the buckle of his pants, undoing them and allowing him to lower his them. Just enough for him to take hold of himself and uncover from his briefs.
It seems he's had enough of the teasing and the foreplay.
"You know we have a bed," you joke.
"I like to work on my feet," Ghost quips back.
You feel the head of his member begin to play at your folds, lightly spreading them apart, and preparing for what felt like would be something slightly larger than what you were used to. It makes the core of your groin quake with anticipation.
Ghost continues to tease himself against you, his breath growing shakier by the second, as precum began to slick between you. His hand on your ass tightens, and he brings himself to the center of your core once more.
You feel his eyes on you.
"Think you can take it?"
You swallow and then nod.
"Give it to me already."
As quickly as the words leave your mouth, Ghost lets himself thrust deeply into you, your walls just barely being able to take in the entire length of him. It sends a sharp sensation up your body, bubbling out into one of the loudest moans you've ever felt yourself let out. You feel it travel all the way up to your throat, making your heart race as though you'd just run a triathlon.
Once he saw you could take him, Ghost pumped deeper into you, pushing further and further in at every thrust, gliding in and out with ease. Soon you've taken him completely, feeling him smack against your cunt hard.
His lips find yours again, not wanting to waste another second away from you, as his fingers dig deep into your skin, forcing you to take all of him, as you willingly let him do what he wants with your body. He clearly knew what it wanted best.
He purposefully pulls back out slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him leave your pussy, and stopping just before his head can exit. He then comes back in sharply, earning that chilling moan from you every time. He could go all night listening to it.
"That's right, lovey," Ghost pants against your lips. "That's fuckin' beautiful."
Ghost picks up his speed, each pump growing faster. Eventually, the pace had increased so much that you stopped noticing the blood you were drawing at the back of his neck from digging into it so roughly. Just as you didn't notice the forming bruises on your ass from how hard Ghost had been holding you.
All you could feel was him inside you, giving you everything he had to give, and hitting that sweet spot every single time.
"I'm so close!" you gasp out. You slide your hands back over to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms, letting him know you were looking him in his eyes. Somehow you felt you could see his right now. "Cum with me."
Ghost takes your lips one final time, getting one last good taste of you, as he feels your walls tighten around him, your body vibrating, as you moan into his lips.
The orgasm shakes you so hard that your body moved almost involuntarily. The mixture of warmth and tight compression is enough to finally get it out of him as well, as Ghost cums alongside you, his cock throbbing against the heat of your cunt.
He lets out a breathy moan, his forehead resting against yours, as you both fight to catch your breaths.
As the moments settled, and your heart rates began to rest, you both continued to let faint images of each other dance in your minds, as un-pronounced as when you first walked in.
"Maybe we can have a nightlight on next time," you joke.
Ghost is quiet for a second, still attempting to reassess himself. He clears his throat before speaking again.
"I'm up for that."
♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡
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doingitforbokuto · 9 months
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Stress relief
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-> WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA X GENDER NEUTRAL READER
Summary: Your boyfriend has been stressed lately. You know what might help him relax.
Words: 1,681
Warnings: rough blowjob
Wakatoshi had had a very long day. Learning his new volleyball technique had turned out to be a lot harder than he had anticipated and yet, he had managed to do it successfully. Though it had taken him longer than he was used to he finally perfected the move today, staying longer than his teammates to train. He wanted to be able to leave and be proud of his work. Though he may not want to admit it, you knew that he was dissatisfied with his performance. His sleep would be short and restless, making him play even worse than before. His goal was finally reached, but since it took him so long to get there, he didn‘t feel as relieved as he thought he would. Sice he was training hard, it was nothing unusual for him to come home a bit later than he usually did. But he knew you would be waiting for him, always so kind and loving.
Usually you would be waiting for him with a book in your hand or maybe a movie playing on TV, but not today. Today you came out of your shared bedroom to greet him in the hallway right after he had taken his shoes and his jacket off.
“Welcome home, Toshi.“
He grunted in response and pressed a small kiss to your forehead. His mood was pretty bad and the last thing he wanted to do was take it out on you, who didn‘t have anything to do with it. So he quickly brushed past you and went straight for your bedroom to get changed.
“Toshi..“
You had followed him to the bedroom and were now standing right behind him. Your boyfriend was leaning over the bed to reach for his pijama pants that he had folded and placed under his pillow in the morning. He turned around to look at you and tell you that it‘d be best if you gave him some space right now but you were faster then he was.
“You‘ve had a bad day, right?“
Compared to his hands yours were soft when you let them trace over his broad chest, down towards the waistband of his pants. The way you looked at him was loving but by no means innocent. It was clear that you knew he was in a bad mood - and it didn‘t make you back away from him. Quite the opposite, actually.
“Want me to make your day better?“ Your palms reached his tummy and pressed against it slightly - you knew how much he liked it when you teased him a little bit. “I know a way for you to release your.. tension.“
“Yeah?“ After a long and stressful day his voice sounded almost as deep and rough as it did in the morning when he had just woken up. Every day it was a struggle to not jump his bones just because he said ‘good morning‘. How could someone be so sexy? If his voice alone hadn‘t been enough to convince you to go through with your plan to help your boyfriend relax, he reached up to touch your face, pulling you closer to him. You could smell him, feel him, hear him breathe. Yeah, you would definitely help him get that tension out of his system.
You kissed him, lips crashing into one another, tongues sliding back and forth. But as quickly as you had initiated the kiss you ended it again.
“Been waiting for this all day,“ you mumbled as you went to work and opened up his pants. “I know you‘ve been stressed lately-“ your hands pulled his pants down a bit “-and I wanna make it better.“ Finally, you sunk to your knees and pulled his pants all the way down.
“You‘re gonna kiss it better?“ He smirked down at you.
“Yeah,“ you breathed out and placed a featherlight kiss to the outline of his cock through his boxers. He was alrready so warm under your touch, blood rushing to his member.
“Properly.“ A large hand found its place at the back of your head. “Kiss it properly.“
“Uh-huh.“ His voice was ringing in your ears. It was all-encompassing, like it got boosted through ten speakers directly into your skull. How did he manage to talk like that? There was no way you‘d deny him anything that he demanded with that voice.
You pulled his boxers down and let them fall to his ankles where they joined his pants. His cock wasn‘t even half hard yet. Time to change that.
Just like he had told you, you started kissing him, properly. With one hand wrapped around the shaft you manouvered his length towards your lips where you placed a wet, sloppy kiss on the head. Another when you started pumping him with your hand and another when your second hand joined the task and started fondling his heavy balls.
“Yeah,“ he exhaled high above you, eyes closed, head thrown back. “That‘s it, baby. Take care of me, yeah?“
Toshi had never been a man of many words, but when he wanted - or needed - something, he was never too shy to tell you what it was. Could he become any hotter?
The only thing left for you to do was wrap your lips around him and let him slide as deep into your mouth as your poor throat would allow it. No matter how many times the two of your did this, your throat always protested when you tried to take all of him. Even when Wakatoshi told you that he didn‘t mind and that he by no means expected you to actually take all of him, you never stopped trying. And your boyfriend would be lying if he said it didn‘t turn him on to see you try so desperately to please him a little more, to make him feel a little better. Even though you got no pleasure out of it, you still gagged yourself on his cock and let his tip hit the warm, wet back of your throat.
At least he thought that you got no pleasure out of it - he couldn‘t be more wrong. If only he knew how euphoric it was for you to see your tall, strong boyfriend come undone under your touch. He sent shivers down your spine every time he moaned, you loved it when he shoved your face harder towards his hips. Everything about this made you feel good and it would be a big, fat lie if you said you only did it for him.
As you started bobbing your head along his shaft you could feel him harden all the way. There were few things that felt better than feeling your boyfriend‘s cock become hard in your mouth, your could feel him throb and pulse and become bigger and harder with every small movement of your head, your tongue.
“Fuck, baby..“
You could practically see the stress melt off his frame. Though his muscles were strained, his face was relaxed. His head hung down now, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly agape. His control was slowly slipping. For a man who had to control every single muscle, every small movement almost all day, this was as relaxing as it could get. He didn‘t need to be perfect, he didn‘t need to think about what he was doing, he didn‘t need to control himself anymore. He could just do what felt good. And so he did.
He placed both hands on the back of your head and waited a second - waiting for a sign of hesitation on your part. After all, you knew what was coming. And you had no objection to it whatsoever. Instead, you placed both of your hands on his warm thighs and tried to relax your throat as much as possible.
And not a second too early. As soon as he felt your hands on his legs he knew that you were okay with his plan and started fucking your mouth at an almost brutal pace. It was unbelievable how quickly his cock hit the back of your throat again and again and again and again.. there was no time to think, no time to breathe. All you could do was try and get some air through your nose as tears started running down your cheeks. It was hard, every time. But it was also worth it, every time.
Through your tears you could watch as Wakatoshi lost control and it was as beautiful as ever. His cheeks red, the blush spreading down his neck and chest. Unconsciously he had started to lean down towards you. His eyes were unfocused, the pupils blown wide. His lips were parted and one moan after another was escaping him.
“Yeah.. fuck, fuck.. baby-“ His eyes bore into yours “-I-I‘m gonna cum.“
He always warned you. Even though you never pulled back. You simply gripped onto his thighs, pushing yourself forward as his cum filled your mouth and slid down your throat. It was hot and sticky, bitter to the taste but you didn‘t care. It was the best reward you could ever ask for.
Slowly, he pulled out of your mouth and sank down onto the bed. His hands were still on your head and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours as you swallowed and tried to catch your breath.
“Thank you, baby,“ he whispered as he wiped the remaining tears from your face.
You coughed a few times before answering with a hoarse voice. “Feeling better now?“
“Hmh..“ He smiled mischievously. “But I think I need some more relaxation. Care to help me with that?“
You hadn‘t even finished nodding when he pulled you up onto the bed and climbed on top of you. He was going to make sure that he fucked every single bit of stress out of his system and into your tight little hole. Even if it took all night. You hoped it would take all night.
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astraystayyh · 11 months
Text
Jeongin x reader. Hurt/comfort. Reader is sad and doesn't know why.
You are curled around yourself in a ball.
Nothing happened in particular. You don't even remember when you started feeling this way. But suddenly all you knew was the tightness in your chest, and the overwhelming need to be home.
Home wasn't the four walls you've lived in for what feels like forever. But the strong arms of your boyfriend Jeongin. But he was still at work, and you couldn't find it in you to text him. What would you even say? I miss you. I don't know what I'm feeling. This house is too bare without you. Please come to me.
And you knew he'd come. You knew he'd drop his work and come running to you, because he loved you. He's told you and shown you countless times, again and again. But you couldn't tear him away from his responsibilities. You couldn't be selfish about his love for you.
So you stay curled around yourself in a ball, your arms tightly hugging your knees. You want to cry, but it feels as if the tears in your body are like dried ink. You squeeze your eyes shut, but nothing comes out. And you are left there begging for a release, for something, anything to lift off this horrible weight off your chest.
An hour has gone by, then two, then three. Your arms are numb, and your eyes ache from staring ahead at nothing for so long. Jeongin is home now, you can hear him placing down his keys on the tray you made together in one of your pottery dates. But you can't find it in you to call out to him. You've sat in silence for so long, you were almost afraid of what would happen if you were to disrupt it.
"Baby?" Jeongin calls out when he opens the door to your bedroom, and you want to see him. You want to snap your head towards him, but it's as if your body has a mind of its own. You can't move. You are crushing down under the weight of this unreasonable sadness.
"My love?" he tries again as he gently climbs on top of the bed. His warm hand rests on your thigh and the contact startles you- as if you were under a spell that his touch just broke. Suddenly, ugly sobs are heaving through your body, and his name spills out of your mouth like a broken plea.
"I'm here, I'm here," he rapidly says, wrapping his arms around your figure as best as he can, trying his hardest to contain the sadness overflowing from you. He's whispering something in your ear and you strain to hear it- it's getting lost between the thousands of voices swimming around in your head.
"I'm here. You are okay. I'm here," he repeats, his tone more urgent, "It's okay. You are okay. I promise," he doesn't stop talking. His deep voice travels across your body, and rests on your every atom, reverberating endlessly within you.
"I need you," you finally manage to utter. You don't know what you need. You still don't know what sparked all of this. Where was all of these feelings hiding for so long? But Jeongin knows. He'll know for you.
"You got me. I'm not going anywhere," his voice is assured and it calms your frenzy for a bit. He's your home. He'll stay with you. You'll figure it out together.
You are still curled around yourself in a ball, and Jeongin is curled around you. Your chest is snug against his back, and your thighs are against his knees, and his hands are on top of yours. He's all encompassing, holding you so tightly to him, leaving no room for sadness to exist between the two of you.
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celestialtarot11 · 4 months
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Tarot Embodiments 💘🤍🌟
Hi friends! 💗 For those of you learning to read tarot, or wanting to strengthen your understanding of it, here you go! I really hope you enjoy + I appreciate any support given to this blog 🌟🥂 enjoy! I’m wondering if I should make a short on YouTube about how to read tarot! Would ya’ll love that? 🙈💖
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💘 Pages- I like to think of Pages as the baby of the court cards. Learning to value its journey, growth, but still nervous about branching out. Seeking information, seeking to grow, gathering ideas, and planning. The planning before the action. Taking mental note. But depending on the Page this channeling of energy can be different!
💗 Page of cups- The sweet, generous, and jovial page. The all encompassing, but still learning to understand how emotions play an important role in situations/connections/oneself. Starting to gain a perspective that invites sympathy, emotion and understanding. Youthful, dreamy and young in their mindset. Also a messenger.
💗 Page of swords- The studier. The one who inspects parts before putting it together. Reading the manual to understand the point of the object at hand. Tinkering with different parts to see what fits, and gathering information over time to reach a conclusion. But does not have enough information to form on at this moment. Associated with spying, stalking, gathering information, and mental stimulation.
🤍 Page of wands- The pursuit of new ideas. The idea comes fast, excitedly, but lacks planning and execution. Putting together different elements to a situation/story/ narrative to create something passionate. Fleeting interest, lacks long term engagement. Ideas can fall apart and come together. Can represent someone who is exploring their passions, dreams and goals, but needs time. Can indicate someone starting a spiritual journey!
🥂 Page of pentacles- Eye on the prize. Determined, skilled, hopes for long term engagement. Still learning the value of a connection/project/friendship. Someone who is learning what their core values are. Someone who is developing slowly, does not make hasty moves. Can be focused to the point they forget anything else.
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The Kings 💗🔮
The Kings are the evolved court cards of all. It represents maturity, development, and a state of security!
🦋 King of cups- Someone who is emotionally aware, conscious and stable. Secure emotionally, fulfilled within oneself, feels comfortable surrounding the home. Is able to give and receive comfortably, and is open to their heart space. Someone with dignity, morals, values that encompass emotion too. Shows acknowledgment for feelings, and can have deep conversation. Someone wealthy in terms of emotional knowledge, and spiritual wealth. Their home carries abundance. Humble, generous, loving, sweet, and nurturing.
🌟 King of wands- Someone who is assertive, passionate, driven. Motivated. Excites easily and makes decisions surrounding their passion. Someone who knows what they want and goes after it confidently, and attracts it. Someone who is impressive, but can have a big ego. Someone who is engaged with spirituality, or has a deep connection to spirituality. Someone who carries spiritual knowledge. Funny, energetic, passionate, charismatic, and bold.
🌹 King of Pentacles: Someone grounded, reserved, committed and confident. Self assured, focus is on material wealth, and sustains long term commitments. Someone who is strong headed, firm, and decisive. Considers the long term and future. Someone wealthy materialistically. Someone devoted to their projects, has a high position in their job, and is the head of a family. Someone who thinks of the future carefully and makes adjustments to align with what they see. Gentle, calm, patient, and supportive.
📌 King of swords- Cerebral, a thinker. Skilled in mental processes and is detached from emotion. Considers emotion, but does not make decisions from that place. Represents someone in their head often, and observing reality, can struggle to interact with it. A planner, someone who considers all options, observant and knowledgeable. Someone philosophical, and approaches from a knowledgeable perspective. A walking library. Someone with a lot to say and doesn’t necessarily say it all. Considerate, respectful, cerebral, an analyzer.
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The Queens 🦋💘
Same thing as the Kings, they represent the evolved feminine side of us. The energetic feminine.
🌟 Queen of wands- The bad bitch! She knows she’s all that. Confident, secure, passionate, and harbors knowledge. Sexually tapped in, invigorating, yet caring. Someone who takes care of their health, passions and nurtures their dreams confidently. Their confidence comes from within. Is not afraid to be themselves. Magnetic, and attracts abundance from a mile away. Spiritually tapped in and can be well endowed in the spiritual department. Charismatic, spiritual, hilarious, confident, and intelligent.
💖 Queen of cups- The nurturer, has a wide understanding of emotion and how important stability is. Maintains equilibrium, balance, and peace within herself. Is emotionally passionate, guided and self assured. Validation comes from within. Focus is in the home and creating community, and is seen as warm, inviting, caring. Has boundaries and knows when to set limits. Has a deep connection ti the heart, and spirituality. Caring, supportive, nurturing, and expansive.
💘 Queen of swords- An analyzer, and understands the value of emotion in planning. Does not make the same mistake twice. Set boundaries, communicates effectively, direct and open minded. Does not tolerate bullshit, and is knowledgeable. Has higher insight on situations/oneself. Philosophical, and sees things from a different perspective. Can be seen as detached, nonchalant. Does not let emotion get in the way of doing what’s best for them. A thinker, organizer, committed to oneself, and knows her place/ value.
🥂 Queen of pentacles- Committed, generous, humble, and loving. A giver, and knows what she deserves in return. Focused on material abundance, wealth and finances. Blessed financially. Someone who works hard and has dignity. Disciplined, focused, structured. Reserved, honest, and respectful. Committed to their future, and will make any and all adjustments to create their dream life. Knows her value and worth, and will not accept anything less.
Thank ya’ll for reading! It’s appreciated. Any support given is also appreciated 🤗🌟 hope this was informative!
Paid Readings💘🌹
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months
Text
Gentle Dark
Haldir x Female Reader
Content & Warnings: romantic tension, yearning, passionate kissing, fade to black, admission of feelings, fluff, light angst
Word Count: 1.3k
On a patrol together, Haldir confronts you about your feelings for him even though you’re promised to another.
A/N: For @childofyuggoth
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
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The stars twinkle through the gnarled canopy. White. Bright. Bathing the forest floor with iridescent light. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, savoring the scents of the forest around you. Caras Galadhon dwells behind you, sleeping and silent in the peaceful dark.
You are attuned to every sound in the deep wood, and as you filter through it all, you find nothing out of place or suspicious. But the disturbance of the wood is not of your immediate concern. There are greater trials and closer bodies that seek your attention other than the animals that softly move through the underbrush.
Haldir of Lórien is a beacon in the dark. You sense him before you see him, standing just shy of your right shoulder.
“The night is quiet,” he whispers.
You open your eyes, turn to face him. “It is indeed.”
Haldir’s gaze casually drops to your lips and then back to your eyes. A gentle heat radiates up your body to encompass you in its embrace. You have little control over your body’s reaction to him.
The answering of your flesh when he is in your presence is unfair. It is a cruel joke. You are promised to another, but not one of your choosing. If you had a choice, you would pick Haldir.
Always.
But that is not to be. That is not the path set out before you.
Him standing here next to you, alone in the gentle dark, is agony. The heat of him is so near, so alive that it sends your senses tingling with anticipation. The clashing beat within you is a deafening drum.
Can Haldir hear the racing of your heart? Can he sense your need and your aching tremble?
You hope he can’t, but you also silently hope that he does. What would he do then?
Haldir’s gaze finally leaves you to glance out into the wood. “We should begin the patrol.”
“Of course,” you murmur, inclining your head, allowing Haldir to take the lead.
He returns his gaze to you briefly before taking a step forward to walk between two trees. You follow him at a short distance, watching the distance, keeping a constant pivot. The two of you walk in relative silence, moving like phantoms amongst the towering trees.
At a small clearing, Haldir pauses. You cozy up beside him, a question starting to form on your lips.
“Do you remember this place?” he asks softly, gaze fixated at the center of the clearing. A sharp beam of moonlight illuminates the ground. The flowers glow under its lunar light.
You do know this place. On one of your many patrols with Haldir, he confessed his love in this very clearing. He held your hands in his, kissed your knuckles and each of your fingers. He whispered in a longing of gentle song that soothed your nerves and calmed your soul. In that moment, you didn’t want anyone else, you only wished for him.
But how things change.
“It is etched upon my heart,” you answer truthfully.
Haldir’s silver hair shines like starlight. “I’d like to stay here. My memories of this place are happy ones.”
The two of you have come to this clearing on multiple occasions. It is no coincidence that Haldir’s patrol includes you. He selects you on purpose, and you go with him willingly because you desire the closeness. It will not last forever, not when you’re promised to another.
“We can only linger here for so long,” you remind him.
Haldir sighs heavily, and turns to face you. He has always been stoic. Calm. Even in your presence, even when he whispered gentle words of love to you, Haldir never appeared…desperate.
The look on his face now is anything but calm. It is intense—a billowing storm tightly contained.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you murmur, startled by the sudden change.
Haldir’s gaze goes to your lips, lingers, and then flicks up to your eyes. “Why do you deny yourself what you want?” he asks.
You swallow and tuck your clenched fist behind your back. Haldir’s directness is too much. He knows that this is not of your own choosing.
“You cannot ask this of me,” you answer, hating yourself for sounding so weak.
Haldir entirely shifts his body in your direction. Taking a step forward, he moves into your space. Your back bumps up against the tree next to you. Haldir places his hand against the trunk next to your head.
You are trapped, but by all the stars in the night sky, you do not care.
His scent is woodsy and clean. You lean in a bit, inhaling, attempting to remember his smell since this might be your last opportunity to do so.
“You stay loyal to him.” Haldir bends at the elbow, pressing in. “And yet you know that he lusts after another.” The center of his brow furrows slightly. “Why not be with someone who will always worship you?”
Him. Him, meaning, your betrothed. The one you’re supposed to be with in the end. The selection made for you. This is an expectation placed upon you.
And Haldir is right. He does not love you. While you intend to be loyal in your upcoming marriage, you also know his heart will yearn for another. But you also yearn for someone else, and Haldir is standing right here, questioning all of this, wanting to know why you won’t pick him.
“Sometimes duty comes before happiness,” you reply softly, gaze cast downward.
“Does it?” he counters quickly.
You keep your face turned toward the ground. Stare at your feet.
The two of you have lain in this clearing, limbs draped over and around each other. There has always been closeness between the two of you. There has always been touching, skin pressed to skin, lips brushing but never fully meeting. Yet, the two of you have never completed the act itself.
That is binding. That is forever.
But you see it in Haldir’s eyes now as you sneak a peek of him. That desperate hunger. The desire to be with one person for the end of your days. It is an arrow through the heart, piercing and sharp and stinging.
You wish to satiated it, to admit to what you want most in this world. Because it is him. It is Haldir that you crave more than anyone else.
“I would be breaking my oath,” you reply softly, finally having the courage to look at him directly.
“Would you?” he asks. “You have made no vow. You have created no bond. The choice is yours. Utterly.” He gestures at himself with his free hand. “And I am right here.”
With a shaking hand, you reach up to cradle his cheek. Haldir turns into your touch, sighing gently, and that snaps your resolve, dissolves it like the winter snows melting in the sun. Haldir must sense the change, because the two of you meet, lips finally joining in what they’ve been longing for.
He tastes perfect. Wonderful. A match made for the ages.
Haldir’s hand upon the tree departs, leaving the bark to encircle your waist, to draw your body against his. You do not resist. You surrender to him, opening like a flower, wanting nothing more than to forget all your fears and sorrows in this little clearing.
The night is long, but it is not forever. For now, the two of you can have this.
Haldir drags you even closer, pressing you firmly against him as he learns the contours of your lips. His hands discover the planes of your body, and yet it’s not enough for him. Haldir is charged like lightening across the sky.
The two of you have been denying these mutual feelings for far too long.
This is a tremor. Earth-shaking. A star bursting into dust.
Haldir guides you to the center of the clearing, easily removing his cloak with one hand. He breaks away a moment to lay it down on the dewy grass, reaching for you the moment it fans out to hold the two of you.
You sink down with him, buckles and straps, and armor disappearing as you go.
It is everything.
It is nothing.
It is all you need in the gentle dark.
taglist:
@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos
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ceruleancattail · 29 days
Text
A Red Heart
Mystic Au
Ruggie x reader
Tw: yandere, gore. Lots of gore. Man’s insane but Y’know I love that so-
All you could see was red.
Spread across his lips, splattered out in a shocking mess of crimson and brown, flakes of blood peeling off like a badly-painted wall. Drops of scarlet drip off his chin, almost like a beast’s wild slobber. His shirt was scratched up, one sleeve ripped clean off, stray threads fluttering away with his every breath.
He kneeled in right before the door, fingers curved into crescents. There were claws, at the end of those fingers. Short, yet viciously sharp. You’ve seen him rip apart packets of chips and paper packaging like it was nothing. It somehow never occured to you what those claws could do to skin. They were coated with grime and blood, red and gummy under his nails.
Vaguely, you could see chunks of flesh strewn around on the ground, ripped into indescribable chunks of gore. Thrown around your floor, coated with the crimson of blood. Hesitantly, you nudge one with your finger.
Warm.
It was still fucking warm.
A chill raced down your spine, settling itself deep into its base. Ice ran rampant through your veins, freezing your bones ice cold. Your heart thumped, throwing itself against its cage of bone again and again, in a futile attempt to escape.
Rooted to the spot, you could feel the bile rise up your throat. Lapping at the back of your throat, acidity burning into the flesh of your mouth. Pressing its way into to your tongue, the vile liquid threatening to spill off your lips at any moment.
The man… no, the creature sitting kneeling right before you raised his head slowly, a wide toothy grin spreading across his lips. To your disgust, it was the same smile. The fanged, crooked grin that he smiled, eyes crinkling right alongside with it.
The same smile you’ve always found cute.
The familiar, warm smile of your Familiar.
Forcing the bile back, you manage to stutter:
“What… have you done, Ruggie?”
Ruggie tilts his head to the side, a somewhat endearing little gesture. Furry ears twitching ever so slightly, those bright cerulean eyes of his staring straight into your own.
You used to think they were beautiful. A clear blue, like the boundless vastness of the sky. Yet now, those same eyes unsettled you, with their clearness. With their calmness. No matter how hard you searched, you couldn’t even find a smidge of remorse within those irises.
“Aw, you came home earlier today, huh Master?”
Hands pushing against the ground, Ruggie leaps right back onto his feet, that sickening grin still plastered across his blood soaked lips. He takes a step closer, swaying ever so slightly. Unsteady, shivering from the excitement of a beast who’s just successfully sunk its teeth into its prey. You could just barely make out the gleam in his eyes, and the instability of it all.
“Who did you…”
your voice falters, trailing off into the silence. What word could you have used? What English word could ever describe the savageness of which Ruggie attacked his poor victim, tearing they apart with both claw and fang? How could you ever come up with a word that encompassed this dastardly act of primal rage?
You were answered with a husky laugh, before a hand lands on your shoulder. A reassuring pat from Ruggie, yet you still winced from the sheer force of his palm.
“What does it matter? They’re dead.”
Ruggie shrugs, shoulders moving up and down fluidly.
“Ain’t no point to having a name to haunt your nightmares, yeah? I know humans are screamish about stuff like this.
I tried to be considerate about ya, y’know? I can’t have my master hurling nilly willy all over the floor. But it ain’t my fault you came home early today.”
His lips twitch upwards ever so slightly, a sort of sadistic amusement leaking out of it.
“That’s on ya.”
Ruggie bends down, wiping off his hands the best he can with the cloth of his pants, before he reaches for your hand. Clutching it tightly, damn near squeezing the life out of your palm. With a sharp yank, you stumble forward. Forced to follow Ruggie’s pace, as he leads you further into the gory scene.
You stop in front of a mangled corpse, almost rendered unrecognisable by Ruggie. The fingers were all scorched, and gnawed at, removing every single fingerprint on it. Part of it had been burnt, disfigured into some monstrosity of raw, throbbing red.
Without any hesitation, Ruggie plunges his hand into the corpse’s chest, digging around for something or another. Every move he made was accompanied by a disgusting squelch, blood staining his arm like a glove.
Despite all of that, Ruggie was still smiling. Chattering on cheerfully, as he continued his search.
“I wanted this to be a surprise, but you’re already here, so might as well.”
Finally, he finished out something. Something the size of his palm, throbbing and squirming in his very hands. A heart. A fucking human heart. Ruggie cradled it softly within his bloodstained palms, the organ still trembling within his hands.
“Humans use hearts to express their love, right? Those little valentine cards, all red and lovely… I figured it’ll be much more romantic if i actually got ya’ a real one.
I put in all that extra effort just for ya, master. Aren’t you just so grateful?”
He slides the organ into your hands, gently closing his fingers around yours. Guiding you into cradling the heart tenderly, softly. Like something beautiful, precious. Like something valuable, forged out of life itself.
Forcing you to hold onto the weight of his sin,
making your hands just as stained as his was.
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edgeray · 1 month
Text
Vixen
(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)
A/N: Last Arlecchino post before I go back to classes. 😿This is a hybrid au! blurb from my poll, and it's likely I won't make a oneshot out of this idea. It's still a really cute concept, so maybe I'll make another blurb of this concept or another hybrid au! idea. concept. Shoutout to @megistusdiary for this adorable idea of Artic Fox Arlecchino! (Love you CEO of Arlecchino!) For those of you guys that weren't entirely... pleased with my 'Arlecchino is not a person' blurb I offer this piece in favor of having my life spared. Future Edit: I call this a blurb, and then proceeds to write 1.4k last night from like 11pm-2am ._. I'll just dub this as a oneshot now. So literally disregard the second paragraph. Not my usual quality, but since it's long enough, it's a oneshot. Content Warning: Pretty OOC for Arlecchino, mentioned but not graphic injury, 2.2k words
Arlecchino is as beautiful as snow.
It's the first thing you've noticed when your eyes laid upon the hybrid Harbinger. Beneath the silky snow-white fur and graceful, cordial appearance, you recognize that a predator laid underneath her exterior; a feral fox ready to lash at anything that so much as touches what was deemed hers. You don't let her sleek, fluffy coat distract you from her red-crossed eyes or her black claws.
Still, it is futile to deny her beauty.
You recall your first meeting with her in Snezhnaya, trudging through its frosty forests in nearly knee-deep snow. You don't quite remember what your purpose for being there was, though you ventured out to the wilderness behind your home often with no real purpose. Snow crunching underneath your boots, you admire the pristine, white landscape that no other place in Teyvat could display.
Here, your sight is met with a frost-covered plane, a frozen river cutting between you and a forest, the silhouette of a grand mountain behind the conifers. The sun hangs low, just above the peaks of the mountain, painting the sky as a gradient of topaz oranges and honey yellows. The only noise that fills the air is the whispers of the occasional winter breeze, blowing through your hair and making you shiver. Captivated by this picturesque scene, you simply stand and observe what's around you, your stare unbreaking.
That is until your ears pick up on a noise, a soft whine in the distance. You can tell it's not human-like, more like a cry that a puppy would make, but nonetheless, you're curious. There's another similar sound, this one more faint, but you let your ears guide you to the source of the noise until you near the edge of another wooded area of the wilderness.
What your eyes set on shocks you. A relatively large white blob sits amongst red patches of snow around. Is that blood? Approaching closer, you realize it's a rather large animal with white fur, and you assume that it's a Snezhnayan Snow Wolf from its size, though it's hard to tell with its back turned away. It's struggling to stand up fully; one of its hind legs appears to be injured given how it's not putting as much weight on it when it limps through the snow. You watch it struggle a little, wary of approaching a wild animal especially one of that size before you witness it collapse. Not intent on just observing the poor creature, you walks towards it, making your presence known so as to not startle it abruptly.
It whips its head and locks eyes with you. It is then, you chillingly discern, that this is no ordinary Teyvat creature. It's bigger than what wolves can grow up to, and its ears and tails don't match that of a wolf. Its ears are shorter in height and more triangular and its tail is much thicker than the average wolf's. Notably, on its legs, the fur darkens from white to pitch black, the color encompassing its feet entirely. This is something unseen in any snow creature you've come across. But most striking of all is its gaze. Red pupils with ebony eyes matching its feet, it watches you calculatingly.
You expect it to growl or snarl or make any sort of noise a wild, cornered creature would, but you get nothing besides continued staring. It's unsettling, but it should be a good thing that it hasn't perceived you as a threat yet, right. Regardless though, you still try to verbally communicate with it.
"Hey, I'm just here to help okay? I won't hurt you. If I do, you can, I don't know, bite my face off or something?" You awkwardly reassure it as you kneel beside the animal. It simply tilts its head to lock eye contact, and you half-expect it to bite you without warning.
Although it feels pointless to talk to a wild animal, you ask, "Can I touch you?" Expectedly, there's no response, but you take it as permission. You place a tentative hand over its fur, brushing your hand through its fur. It's incredibly soft, almost like how you'd imagine what touching a cloud feels like. It's a light and immaculate coat. But you didn't come here just to pet it.
"You have a really pretty coat," you compliment the fox(? Let's stick with that for now), before your fingers trail down to where the blood originated. It's a clean, deep laceration across the length of its back leg. What could have injured it like this? There's no other marks on the leg, so it can't be a claw from another animal. This was a precise cut, something that only a human can do.
"Did someone do this to you?" You wonder out loud in a sorrowful tone. What kind of human could harm such a beautiful creature? Unbeknownst to you, its ears twitched in response.
You get to work treating the wound with the emergency equipment you always carried when you ventured. There's no resistance or protest from canine, and you question if this is really an animal you're treating. How it hadn't budged one bit as you cleaned its wound, you're not sure, but you're just glad it hasn't shown one sign of aggression towards you. If you clean it and allow the skin to heal, the cut will likely heal independently. Once you've wrapped the final bandage around its leg, you glance at the fox's eyes again.
Not even once did it stop watching you.
You try to comfort yourself from the disturbing fact by observing how cute it is and imagining what it would be like to snuggle with it. It's when you notice the sun was setting, and dusk is approaching quickly. This typically wouldn't be a problem, but as you increasingly grew worried, a distinct problem struck out. You're lost.
"Well, shit."
Guess you have to set up camp. You hate the thought of having to spend the night out here, but you have no choice. You won't be able to make out anything soon from how dark this place gets. It's not your first time doing so, but you hate it still. With the remaining minutes of sun you have left, you gather as many sticks and branches as possible before you light them with a match, creating a campfire. You lay a little close to the fox, which seems to have also decided to make the campfire its resting place for now.
You cocoon yourself with a thick blanket.
"You'll keep me safe, right...?" You ask of the fox. No response. How very assuring.
Despite the bundles of fabric purposed for helping with extreme temperatures, you find yourself still shivering. You're cold, not to the point of frostbite, but your form can't stop trembling, your teeth chattering.
"It's too fucking cold for this shit," you groan, hugging yourself for extra warmth and curling into a fetal position. As you curse yourself for getting lost, you hear a shuffle, and the crunch of snow. Before you can even search for the origins of the sound, you feel a warm, large weight against your back--it's something soft. You look over your shoulder to see white fur and then look back to where the fox was originally: it's no longer there. Instead, it's pressed against you, sharing its body warmth with you.
"Mmm... good kit," you tiredly drawl as you absorb its heat greedily, enjoying the texture of its coat. It makes falling asleep easy.
Before you drift to sleep, you swore you heard a human, feminine voice purr from behind you.
"Annoying little vixen."
When you wake up, you expect to be met with white--white snow and fur. You are only met with one of those. Your eyes adjust to the pricking sunlight that stab into your vision. Surprisingly, you're warm even with the chill that you feel cascade against your cheeks. Memories of the night prior start piecing together. You still feel the fox's presence, though, strangely, the weight behind you doesn't seem nearly as soft or large as you remember. And something is draped around your midsection. You look down, expecting to a fur-covered limb.
Instead, it's a human arm that is wraps around your form, holding flushed against a person and your heart skids to a stop. The forearm is black with gold and ebony markings on its surface, but the dark color fades into pale skin. Is this person even human? A humanoid? A hybrid? With your rising panic, you become increasingly more aware of the presence that has you encaged in their embrace. You can't turn to look who is behind you in fear of waking them up--you don't know what they'll do to you once they're awake.
The soft snoring behind your ear and the warm breath brushing against your nape makes you shiver. However, what you do notice is how warm their body is; they exude a body heat that's abnormal. Do they produce their own heat from within? You know of very little creatures that can do that, let alone humans. Maybe an external source? Like a vision?
Then a sudden thought comes to you. Has this person been... sleeping with you to keep you warm? Is this person somehow the fox you helped? Deciding to risk it, you twist your head to look over your shoulder.
Red-crossed pupils glare back at you and your entire form freezes. Faced with perhaps the most gorgeous woman ever, a pale, unblemished face framed by ivory hair and some ebony strands appear before you.
"You're awake," her gruff voice comes out and the tips of your ears burn from being caught awake.
"Y-yes," you stammer out, still trying to recover from the shock. "Thank you for keeping me warm."
She hums in response before unfurling her arm from your body and standing up. Immediately, your body misses her warmth and you shudder, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. You sit up with her and it's then that you realize that she is indeed a hybrid. The same ears from the fox last night matches those on her head, and there's a tail that swishes lightly from behind her.
You take the time to admire her clothes, the question of where she got them slipping from your mind. She dons a marble white and slate gray jacket over a corset-type shirt with black and a matching gray and wears black pants. Her outfit reminds you of similar attire to Snezynayan nobles. What is someone of her status out here? Something about her seems vaguely familiar, though you don't quite know why.
"You're the... fox from last night," you dumbly state.
"Correct."
"But you're a human now."
"Astute observation," she huffed with a bit of mockery in her voice and you chuck snow in her direction.
"I've never seen a hybrid before, cut me some slack!" You snap back in faux anger. You let out a sigh, before you flick your attention to her leg. You can't see the wound because of her leggings, but you presume that it's still there.
"Who hurt you before?" You rasp out, corner eminent in your words and expression.
"That's not of your concern," she answers in a curt manner, making you wince.
You bite your bottom lip, a bit frustrated from the quick shut refusal, but you know she shouldn't pry. For as beautiful as she is, both in her human and fox form, you know just from the unsettling... sensation she emitted that she was dangerous, not to be disturbed or poked to much. You figure you should probing her on what led to this situation.
"Can I know who you are?" You question instead.
The fox hybrid steeps in silence for a few moments. Her facial muscles softening just the bit, the red flare in her eyes glowing. Then, a crack in her hardened expression, a small smile graces her lips.
"Arlecchino."
Bonus (Content Warning: VERY Suggestive. Like the closest thing to a smut I'll get.)
"Arlecchino."
"Mmh?"
"I need to get up."
"Just a little longer, kit."
"Arle, I love you, but I will kick you."
"With what functioning legs?"
"Is this why you wanted to dick me down? So you can harass me with no consequences?"
"Exactly."
You grit your teeth, trying to peel her arms off of your bare form, but the fox hybrid persists, keeping you glued to her as she nibbles gently on the skin of your nape. To emphasize her hold, her tail curls around one of your legs, its grasp tight and ensuring you can't go anywhere.
"Annoying little vixen," you groan, pulling the covers off of the two of you.
Arlecchino purrs into your shoulder, and her hands trail from your midsection down to your hips. Her tail caresses your inner thigh and you shudder.
"Again?" You gasp in dulled surprise as you feel her rise and she flips your body over to be beneath her. One blackened claw hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers with hers and pressing your hand into the mattress behind you. The other hooks underneath one of your legs, raising the leg over her shoulder.
"Of course. After all, I need to ensure you take my kits."
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