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niningtori · 9 days

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violets are blue: a hanahaki au | oneshot

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi yeonjun x you

summary: you love beomgyu, your best friend, so much it makes you sick. literally. like, sick in the sense that your days are numbered as you try to fight off the hanahaki threatening to kill you every time he breaks your heart with his loving girlfriend, so you decide you'll try getting over him with the help of his girlfriend's friend, yeonjun.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, hanahaki

warnings: lots of clichés, serious illnesses, and mentions of death

word count: 5.2k

notes: surprise! i didn't think i'd get this out just yet but here it is <3 please don't be mean (i'm fragile) and feedback is always appreciated!

it’s a bearable sort of pain, but it’s still painful, nonetheless. bearable is a very loose term, too, because you know if and when things continue as they are, you will no longer be able to write your symptoms off so casually. and as you lean over beomgyu’s toilet and watch purple petals stained with crimson red blood swirling down the drain, you know it won’t be long before your pain crosses from “bearable” to “hellish”.

still, you manage to flush the evidence of your dying heart and take a good look at yourself in the mirror. your lips are nice and bloody, your makeup nice and smudged. you calmly take out the emergency mouthwash and makeup from your bag and get to work. after you’re finished tidying up, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. with a shaky smile and slightly reddened eyes, you leave his bathroom and prepare for the worst.

and the worst, it is. you just so happen to walk in to beomgyu’s living room while he plants a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheek as she giggles like mad. suddenly, your chest hurts even more than it already did and you find it hard to breathe. well, back to the bathroom you go.

you wish it were like the stories. you wish you could get some magical surgery to remove the flowers from your lungs — yes, even if it meant forgetting beomgyu. if you were a better person, you would say you’d rather die with your love than forget him; but as you’ve come to find out, you guess you’re not that selfless. actually, with the way things are now, you think it’d be better to forget. but unfortunately for you, there is no such solution in this world.

as it stands, the only way for you to cure your illness is by finding another love, which you have been too stubborn to try, but as you die a little more and more every day, you realize you have to do something. beomgyu is getting more serious with his girlfriend with every passing day, and even before that, he never once looked at you like anything other than a best friend — which you thought was killing you at the time, in a figurative sense, but now it’s killing you in the most literal of ways and you’re desperate.

you want to tell yourself that beomgyu needs you, and maybe he does, but he does not need your love the way you need his. the proof of this sentiment being that one of you is, at present, dying for the love of the other, and it’s not him.

it’s hard to hate beomgyu’s girlfriend when she’s so fucking nice, so you stopped trying to hate her long, long ago. in another life, you might even call each other friends. in this one, though, it’s a quiet sort of dance where you neither push nor pull her too hard. if she’s there, you greet her with a smile on your face. if she’s not, you don’t ask about her. it’s a delicate little charade, but one you play the part in flawlessly. beomgyu commends you for being “so cool” with her, but you have no other choice. if you veer too much in one direction or the other, you run the risk of losing him for good.

so she is, understandably, very surprised when you wait for beomgyu to go to the bathroom before asking her if she has any single friends.

“oh my god, really? i thought you'd never ask!” she exclaims, and you paste on a smile so sweet it’s sickening.

turns out, she has a lot of friends, unlike you, and many of them are, in her words, handsome. she pulls up a picture of a few of them and your eye is caught by one in particular.

“who’s that one?” you ask, pointing to a black-haired boy with an undercut.

“that’s yeonjun,” she grins. “oh, i just knew you’d like him. you’re totally his type, too. he’s gonna freak when i set you two up.”

“what’s going on?” beomgyu cuts, and your short-lived giddiness is shot in the head almost instantly.

“baby, you’ll never believe it. she’s interested in yeonjun,” she declares, still as excited as ever.

beomgyu turns to you with a look you can only describe as odd. you never talk about dating with him. like, ever. you don’t even seem interested in the idea to the point where he very earnestly sat you down one day and asked you if you were asexual, to which you spent a very arduous few hours awkwardly explaining that you are not. honestly? he didn’t really believe it at the time, but he’s beginning to now, if only because you seem so incredibly flustered at the moment.

“really? that’s great,” he says after a slightly off-putting pause, but thankfully, nobody catches it. “you know, for a second there, i thought you were gonna be our future kids’ single wine aunt forever. i’m glad you’re finally putting yourself out there.” god, he hurts you, and he doesn't even mean to, but it hurts all the same. he’s spoken about marrying and having children with her, but to think that you fall into the “fun aunt” role in his future with her just makes you feel sick. you’d better pray that this shit with yeonjun goes well, because your lungs are starting to ache just as the thought.

“this is great,” she says, breaking you out of your trance. “how about this: we’ll go on a double date. that sounds fun, right?”

“actually, i think i’d like to meet him on my own first, if that’s cool with you,” you say. the last thing you need is for the love of your life to be there on your first date with another man. what if things go wrong? or worse, what if things go right? beomgyu can’t be there for that. you can’t do that to poor yeonjun.

she looks disappointed at your words, but beomgyu cheers her up by pinching her cheeks and promising that you’ll all have plenty of chances to go out together if things go well. you try to smile, you really do, but you’re not sure if what comes out looks anything even remotely close to one. luckily, it seems like they’re too absorbed in each other to notice.

you haven’t talked much with yeonjun before tonight, opting to meet him in person to see if the chemistry is there before wasting any time with just “talking”. you simply don’t have the time to spare, and yeonjun seems equally as eager to meet you for reasons unknown. so now you sit all dolled up and glammed out at the back of a dimly lit restaurant as you wait to meet the boy you can only pray will save you. he must have no idea how much you need this.

when you first see him, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. you see beomgyu every day, and he’s the handsomest man in the world to you, but something about yeonjun is different. when he introduces himself and you get to know each other, his charisma charms you in a way you sincerely did not anticipate. he’s funny and goofy, which is just how you like them. you haven’t been on a date in god know’s how long, but you’re starting to think that maybe this previously incomprehensibly doomed situation may not be so inescapable after all. that is, until he’s taking you home.

it’s dark outside and he graciously gives you his jacket like the gentleman he is, and you’re walking notably close together on the sidewalk, bodies brushing each other every few steps when he tells you something that just might change your life.

“listen, i really had fun tonight,” he says nervously, and it’s like you can feel the rejection before he even says anything more.

“but to be honest with you, my intentions aren’t exactly pure.” your heart drops. does he just want to sleep with you or something? that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but it’s not what you need. you need to love someone and for that someone to love you back so you don’t get sick beyond salvation. the only way to get over beomgyu is by getting serious with someone else.

“then what do you want?” you question feebly. he stops walking and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“i want to fall in love with you, and i want you to fall in love with me. i want us to be together forever. i need it, actually.” he says eerily seriously, and you’re confused for a few moments before it dawns on you.

“you’re sick, aren’t you?” you ask, and his face hardens for a second before he nods.

“y-yeah, i'm sick. if you don't wanna see me again after this, i understand. i just —”

“it's okay. i am, too,” you say with a small, reassuring smile.

“you too?” he asks, eyes comically wide and pouty lips agape in an “o”.

“yeah,” you tell him, and he’s quiet for a few moments before he laughs. it’s a cute, pretty little thing, and it makes you join him, too.

“wow, maybe meeting each other was fate,” he says between giggles.

“maybe,” you reply. and for the first time in a long time, you think you might really make it out of this alive.

“and you won’t believe it, but he told me he spent the whole night with her!” beomgyu’s girlfriend says proudly.

“... what?” he mumbles dazedly.

“he said he went over to her place and stayed there all night, and on the first date, too!” she babbles. “now, he didn’t tell me what they did, but if i know yeonjun, i bet they —”

“stop,” he cuts in. he doesn’t know why, but he feels that if he hears one more word about it, something will feel horribly wrong. it already does feel wrong, in a way, but he can’t quite put his finger on why.

“why? aren’t you happy for them?” she asks confusedly.

“i… i am. it’s just weird, y’know? she’s like… like a sister to me. nobody wants to hear about their sister’s private life,” he reasons, and she nods in response.

“i guess that makes sense,” she says. “but still, i’m so happy for them. especially him. he’s actually had a rough time, lately. i don’t know why, but he’s been acting kinda weird with me, so i —”

“you’re here!” beomgyu says as you walk through his front door. he’s been expecting you. since your first date with yeonjun, he’s been eagerly texting you about it. you haven’t responded much, but he’s been chalking it up to how busy you must be with your new, well, whatever yeonjun is to you. he’s excited when he thinks about how he’ll get to see how you two interact with each other tonight since his girlfriend suggested you all hang out together, but part of him feels off about this entire situation. what he told her was the truth: it is weird to see you with someone, but maybe he’s just not used to it. you’ve never been openly attracted to anyone before, so it’s brand new territory to navigate.

you greet him with a soft smile and not much else, which strikes him as odd, but yeonjun trails in after you, and all other thoughts go out of the window.

“hey, man! nice to see you. it’s been a while,” he says, and yeonjun reciprocates the same excitement, going in for a side hug.

beomgyu’s girlfriend goes in for a hug, too, and yeonjun freezes for a bit, but it goes unnoticed by everyone besides you. you look at him with as much reassurance and understanding as you can muster, and he replies with a grateful, shaky smile.

honestly, you weren’t terribly surprised when he told you that the object of his affections was the very person who holds the heart of the object of yours. she’s a bubbly, lively kind of girl, and it’s easy to fall in love with someone like that. if anything, it just makes you think that maybe yeonjun was right when he said meeting each other was fate.

the night is pretty fun, all things considered, and you find yourself not wanting to die while spending time with the loving couple, but that’s only because yeonjun is sitting next to you. when something particularly devastating happens, you grab each other’s hands and squeeze like you’re the other’s only lifeline. in a way, you kind of are. without him, you’d be on a one-way train to certain death, and without you, he’d be the same.

things are pretty light, though, until beomgyu says he has an announcement to make.

“we’re moving in together!” his girlfriend cheerily cuts in before he can do the honors, and that’s enough to make any hard-earned progress go out the window. you feel your stomach churn and you’re finding it hard to breathe. you look very visibly ill, and while yeonjun is not doing much better, you definitely take it a lot harder.

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you guys!” yeonjun chirps.

“yeah. sorry, i think i need to go to the bathroom,” you mumble, and yeonjun concernedly looks at you before you subtly shake your head. in that brief look, you have an entire conversation. he asks if you’re alright and if you need him to come with you to spill your guts out, and you tell him you’re not, but you’d rather go alone.

while his girlfriend may not catch it, beomgyu certainly does. that odd, silent conversation that only yeonjun and you seem privy to. the fact that you two seem to have a level of understanding with words unspoken makes him feel suffocated, and there’s an unknown sharpness in his chest.

he tries to join back in on the banter, but he can’t shake the uncanny feeling he has, so he excuses himself and follows you to the bathroom.

now, he knows this is really fucking weird to do, so he almost doesn’t do it, but the sound of you retching makes him abandon all consideration of right and wrong. he presses his ear to the door and hears hushed sobs in between hacks, and it makes his eyes widen in horror and concern.

he’s not sure how much time passes, but he hears the heartbreaking sounds die out, and then he hears the water run and you clearing your throat. he takes the cue to stop pressing against the door, and before long, you step out of the bathroom while looking perfectly put together. you flinch almost imperceptibly when you catch him right outside the door.

“are you alright?!” he exclaims, but you just nod and begin to push past him, murmuring something about being fine, but that you and yeonjun need to leave because something came up. he didn’t even know you could move so fast, and he finds that he’s borderline chasing you to the living room where his girlfriend and yeonjun look up in surprise at the scene before them.

“do we need to leave?” yeonjun asks carefully.

“yeah,” you say shortly, and you’re booking it out of the door and onto the porch before beomgyu grabs your arm and spins you around to face him. his girlfriend hesitantly follows yeonjun outside and watches the entire ordeal as puzzle pieces begin to fit together in her mind.

“are you alright?!” he repeats, and you just face him with a withering, humbling look.

“i’m okay. i just don’t feel good tonight, but i’ll be alright. congratulations on everything, i’m sorry i can’t stay to celebrate.” and normally that would be enough to throw him off of your scent, but beomgyu remembers your muffled cries, and he won’t be swayed so easily.

“what’s wrong? no bullshit. just tell me,” he demands in a way that is uncharacteristically solemn, but you can’t answer that. the only way to get him to forget about you is for you to distract him with the person he loves most.

“but your girlfriend —”

“don't even start. what’s wrong?” he, well, asks isn’t even really the world, is it? there’s no room for negotiation in his tone.

“i… i’m sick,” is all you can really say.

“sick how? sick like you need me to take you home?” and he doesn’t really believe his own implication that it’s something so easily fixable, but he has to try.

“i’m… i’m really sick. sick like i’m dying, sick,” you manage to croak out, and it’s everything he feared and more.

“what’s wrong?! do you need to go to the hospital?!” he panics, and you feel an overwhelming sense of dread. this is what you wanted to avoid because he can’t help you. nobody can.

“baby?” the soft voice of his girlfriend pipes up from behind you. his gaze is torn away from you for just a moment, but that’s enough to make you ache.

“not now!” he snaps before turning his attention back to you, but it’s too late. you feel the sharp stems scratching at your lungs, causing a scorching sort of pain you can’t even put into words. slowly, you begin to cough — choke, really — and beomgyu is helpless to watch as you clutch your chest and hack up a mess of bloodied, tangled flowers. his eyes widen as he takes in the blood seeping from the corners of your mouth.

“who?” he asks shakily as you finish coughing up the last of the petals, and you know he’s asking who your unrequited love is, but you don’t reply. you can’t reply.

“who is it?” he asks again with more edge to his voice, but you still can’t muster up the courage to answer him. you could lie like you usually do, but you’re so tired, you just can’t anymore.

“baby?” his girlfriend repeats.

“what?!” he snaps, unable to help himself from losing his temper as he turns to look at her.

“it’s… it’s you,” is all she says, and his scowl drops and morphs into incredulity and dread.

“that's impossible,” he whispers, but one look at you and your twisted expression is enough to erase all doubt. “m-me? listen, you know i love you, but i —”

“it's alright,” you coax, trying to placate him. even in your darkest moments, you're still putting his feelings first, and the thought alone is suffocating him. “i know. i really, really do. you don’t have to explain it to me.” and your “comforting” smile would be more convincing if it weren't stained red.

“but you’re sick! you —”

“i’ll be alright,” you whisper, and he’s at a loss for words at how calm you seem to be. how can you be so resigned? he looks at you — really, truly looks at you — for the first time in god knows how long, and he finally notices how different you are. your frame is lighter, your cheeks are more pronounced, and there are violet bags underneath your bloodshot eyes. how could he have missed so many signs? you’re dying, no way around it, and he was so busy playing house with his girlfriend, he had no idea just how much you were — are — suffering. it’s unforgivable, but he can tell you’ve forgiven him, anyway. how long have you been forgiving him? since the start of his current relationship? or even before that?

“we should go,” yeonjun cuts in tentatively. you just tearily nod, and before beomgyu can say anything more, you’re in yeonjun’s car and driving away.

he calls and texts for days on end, but you don’t respond. at some point, he resolves to come see you in person. the way you looked the last time he saw you haunts him viciously. he just has to see you. he just has to be sure.

but when he shows up at your doorstep, you just look exhausted and even worse for wear. you don’t greet him, even, you just sigh and walk back to your bedroom before plopping down into the bed and looking at him with a look he can only describe as unreadable.

“i just h-had to make sure you’re okay,” he stammers.

“i’m okay,” you reply gently. “i just need some time.”

“b-but maybe if i —”

“it won’t work. the only way out of this is for you to love me back, or for me to get over you. yeonjun is helping me, so it’s going to be alright, i think.”

“what if i —”

“you can’t make yourself love me, beomgyu,” you say softly, the slightest tinge of a reprimand in your voice.

“i… i can try,” he whimpers.

“yes, but i don't want you to. you have a girlfriend,” you patiently reply, but your seemingly unshakable patience just makes him more desperate.

“then what do you want me to do? i’m killing you!” he exclaims, and you wince as a sharp pain strikes your temples at the noise. he notices your response, and he just wants to die from the guilt.

“i don’t want you to do anything. that’s why i didn’t tell you.” how could you not want him to do anything? how could you possibly ask that of him?

“h-how can you say that? how can you just expect me to watch you die?” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks as he looks to you for a perfect solution that will never come.

“i’m alright,” you tell him again, but the way you wheeze afterwards suggests otherwise.

he goes to grab you, maybe to pat your back or maybe to hold you, he’s not really sure, but you feebly put your hand up to stop him before he gets too close. it’s an innocent gesture in and of itself, yet it somehow feels like you just smacked him across the face.

“don’t touch me,” you say, but it’s more like a plea than anything else. “it’ll just hurt me more.” with that, your words devolve into a coughing fit and all he can do is watch as splatters of blood and stems stain the tissue you cough into. he never, not in a million years, thought that his touch would hurt you. it’s supposed to soothe you like nothing else. you know, the way your touch soothes him.

“i think you should go,” you suggest after your coughing has died down. he can see the aftermath of his mere presence etched into the tired lines on your face, and he feels less like a person and more like the scum of the earth.

“what are you thinking about?” a sweet voice says, effectively pulling him out of his reverie. beomgyu is currently supposed to be cooking dinner with his girlfriend, but he’s spending more time spacing out than actually cooking the noodles he’s meant to be stirring.

“n-nothing,” he sputters, but her knit eyebrows and frown let him know he has to elaborate. still, he pretends he doesn’t notice her silent urging and returns to his task.

he can feel her stare on him as he watches the pot, and it’s not very long before she sighs and says her next words.

“you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“what? n-no! i just —”

“yes, you are.” and her tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s filled with a sense of knowing. “it’s normal to think about her, you know? she’s dying and —”

“don’t say that! why would you say that?! she’s not going to die!” he yells, slamming down the fork he was using to stir and turning to face her. he’s visibly shaking with rage — which makes no sense given that he knows, she knows, and even you know that her words are true.

“she’s going to die,” she repeats. “you need to accept that.”

“how can you expect me to accept that?! you two just expect me to be okay with her fucking dying! well, i’m not!” he cries, tears streaming down his face as his words get louder and louder.

“... i think you need to take some time to cool down. i’ll stay with my parents, so do what you need to do. when you’re ready, just call me, okay?” she says, and he only sobers up after he hears the front door slam shut.

beomgyu stays in an odd sort of purgatory. he’s constantly torn between contacting you and leaving you alone like you so obviously want. he tells himself that you’re his best friend, so of course he wants to see you and comfort you, but it feels much deeper than that. like there’s something unsolved and untouched that he just needs to dig a little deeper to figure out, but as for what that something is, he can’t seem to quite grasp.

with this in mind, he never, not in a million years, anticipated that you’d be here on his doorstep. but here you are. you look even worse than before, somehow, which he is surprised by seeing as how things with yeonjun seem to be going well if yeonjun’s instagram updates of the both of you mean anything at all. he invites you in and offers you a seat, but you refuse.

“come on, sit down. you must be tired,” he urges, but you wave your hand.

“i don’t need to stay here long,” you dismiss, and it hurts his heart. “i just need one thing from you, and i’ll be out of here.”

“you need something from me? sure, anything! w-what is it?” and he sounds so hopeful, so earnest. maybe there’s a way to undo what he’s done. maybe he can help you after all. no matter what it is, he knows he can do it.

“... i need you to reject me,” is all you say, but the words ring in his ears. reject you? how can he reject you when it looks like a breeze could knock you over?

“b-but why?” he stammers, and you sigh.

“i finally figured it out. i just need to hear you tell me that you don’t love me, then i think i’ll be able to fully let you go for good.” usually, you’d have a soft smile on your face in order to comfort him, but your face is blank except for your eyes, which seem more desperate than anything he’s ever seen. but your words confuse him.

“let me go for good?”

“yeah. i think if i can just hear you say it, i won’t need to see you anymore. i won’t ask for anything else, i just need to hear it from you,” you say determinedly. but he’s stuck on “i won’t need to see you anymore”. what could you possibly mean by that?

“what do you mean you won't need to see me anymore?” he asks, voice devoid of any ill intent, but filled with genuine confusion.

“i mean, yeonjun doesn’t like me seeing you for obvious reasons, but i told him that i think i’ll be okay after this.” his confusion turns into dread. things that were a mystery to him suddenly make perfect sense.

“i can’t,” he chokes out, and you’re visibly stunned before anger explodes inside of you.

“you can’t? what the fuck do you mean you can’t? why can’t you?!” you seethe. you’ve done everything for beomgyu, you even almost paid the ultimate price for him just so you wouldn’t have to make him uncomfortable with your feelings. you’re quite literally dying because of him, and he can’t offer up a meager sentence for you?

“i… i can’t say it. please don’t make me say it,” he pleads. “i’ll do anything else — anything, i swear to god!”

“beomgyu, there is nothing else. this is the only way. i’m not asking you for much, just say it, then i’ll be okay.” but he can’t do what you ask of him. not when he’s realized what he just realized.

“b-but i… i do love you. i’m sorry, i just didn’t realize it until just now, but i do. a-and if you’ll have me, i —” smack! and his pathetic speech is stopped by your hand meeting his cheek.

“you are so fucking selfish,” you spit, voice low, but vibrating with rage. “more selfish than i will ever be able to understand.”

“w-what do you —”

“beomgyu, you have a girlfriend. a girlfriend who loves you. what about her? huh?” you ask, and his previous momentum falters, but you’re not even finished yet.

“and if she gets sick, are you gonna leave me and tell her you want her instead? you can’t do that, beomgyu. i won’t accept that. i won’t accept your love just because you feel sorry for me,” you declare, voice cracking as thick, hot tears roll down your cheeks. he’s still speechless, so you somehow find it in yourself to continue.

“i’m not doing this with you right now. call your girlfriend, tell her you’re sorry, and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore. and even if i’m gone, don’t you dare tell her what you told me today, okay?” and it’s not really an ask as much as a demand.

“i can’t do that,” he whispers, and you’re not sure if the ache in your heart comes from the briars encircling it or from how pained he looks.

“i know i’m selfish. i know i’m a bastard. but seeing you with yeonjun, or worse, not seeing you at all? that’ll fucking kill me. i just can’t do it. i don’t want to hurt her, but i don’t want to lie to her. or you. or myself,” he says shakily.

“what are you saying?” you ask. this is not how you anticipated things would go.

“i’m saying that if you leave me, i’ll be sick,” he says shakily. “j-just the thought of that makes me…” and it’s a surprise to the both of you when he coughs like crazy, and it’s to the horror to the both of you when a pretty, blood-stained violet petal escapes his mouth.

“oh god,” you whisper. “you can’t do this.”

“i can’t help it!” he exclaims. “i didn’t know before, but it’s true. i just didn’t realize it. i’m just — i’m just sorry i didn’t realize it.”

“beomgyu, it’s going to kill her,” you say, dread evident in your tone.

“i know,” he says tearily. “but it’s you. it’s always been you. we can’t change it.”

“i can’t do this to her. it’s wrong,” is all you can say.

“i can’t live without you, and you can’t live without me,” he replies. “w-whatever happens, can we please just figure it out together? i don’t think i can handle another day without you. i think it might really kill me.” he pushes your hair off of your sweaty forehead, and you know as you feel your heart lighten that you have no choice. if not for you, then for him. whatever happens with his girlfriend, you will try your damndest to make sure she doesn't have the same fate as the two of you.

“okay?” he asks.

“o-okay,” you tell him, because what else is there to say?

notes pt. 2: lorddd i know this ending will be polarizing but what can we do... it is what it is :(

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astonmartingf · 6 months

Text

SLOWLY ; LH44

— after all the years you’ve been together with lewis as friends, you realize what lewis means to you

amgf mentions of break downs and panic attacks, crying, realizing feelings are overwhelming and it's just too much for reader but don't worry it's fluff 🫶 enjoy because wow i loved writing this, also tried my hardest not to make this like my other lewis smau and i hope i did that. anyways, enjoy!!! the next part we're going somewhere special 😉👍

masterlist

“Nico! You’re here at Lewis' party? I missed you so much, I have no one to talk to— Lewis is busy yet he’s always around. What if… what if I start seeing him in some type of way? Or am I drunk? I’m not drunk aren’t I? Maybe I am… a true friend wouldn’t have feelings for a friend right? OH MY GOSH! What if it was Lewis all along? I mean, I don’t mind, look at him? But… ARRGGGHHH! I have so much to say, but I can’t say it. Not to his face… I really think I’m starting to like—”

Do you have an unhealthy attachment to the voicemail Nico sent you four years ago of your drunken confession to admitting to having some type of feeling for your friend, Lewis Hamilton?

Yes.

Does Nico constantly remind you of the said confession four years after?

Yes.

Is it haunting your mind? It’s haunting your mind, soul, and heart— because as much as you hate to admit it, the feelings are starting to follow you, four years later. All your drunken word vomit to Nico was slowly following you throughout the years and it’s only then that you realize the culmination of all your deepest and darkest thoughts about Lewis.

That after all those years of friendship and platonic love… it might be him.

As time passes by you’ve fully integrated into yourself that Lewis would be an integral part of your life, in your formative years you stuck by each other up until the occurring present, and soon you figured out you’d still be friends with him in the future. He was always there, it was understandable.

But it wasn’t until you fully grasped that he was always there, and he might never go away.

“So have you thought about it?” Nico breaks your train of thought, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter’s playroom wearing tiaras and tutu skirts, playing tea party with the teddy bears Lewis gifted them last Christmas.

“I’m not thinking about Lewis.”

“That was an awfully quick answer, didn’t even mention him in the slightest.” You blink, dropping the “cup of tea” handed to you. “What did I say?”

Nico sighs in front of you, picking up the plastic tea cup, placing it back on the table, whispering something to his daughter before removing the wand from your left hand and whisking you out of the room.

“Is everything okay?” Nico asks, pulling one of the throw pillows into your lap, eagerly waiting for your response.

“It’s scary— these feelings I’m bearing. I don’t think I can handle it, I want them gone.” Your words are void of emotion, but your eyes tell a different story as tears start pooling your eyes, heavy and slowly out of breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

You shudder as Nico pulls your arms together to your side, forcing you to face him— you stare at his eyes, slowly blurring at the tears blocking your view. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t want it. It’s all too much for me, this— this feeling, it’s uncomfortable, I don’t like it.”

“It’s new, but it’s still the same. It’s still the same Lewis and he won’t ever change.” Nico tries to comfort you, but you’re spiraling way too quickly to make sense of it all.

“No it won’t! I like him, things will be different from then on, can’t you see? I’m ruining it all, and once Lewis realizes that he’ll leave me for being a bad friend. It’s all my fault, I like him and I hate myself for it. I can’t believe it, all those years will end up with me being alone all because I like him. And now, I can’t even— I don’t want to look at him. I’m disgusted and disappointed at myself for even thinking that I have a chance, every moment I’m with him I look forward to the next, and it’s all new to me, I don’t like it Nico!”

You catch his daughters peeking from the playroom, fully unaware of the volume of your voice. They probably didn’t expect their aunt to break down in their house on a random weekday, yet here we are. You laugh bitterly, wiping the tears in your face. “I’m scared Nico, I don’t know what to do.”

Nico holds his breath out nodding slowly, comforting you, “Yes, I understand… it all seems scary, these big feelings— it’s new. But, remember it’s still Lewis. I don’t think he would want you to be all alone as well.”

It was the last straw, the cumulation of all your feelings summed up to one— after Nico left and Lewis being avoidant about the situation, it left scars around you. You realize not to bring it up, and thinking of your own feelings and over analyzing down the “what could have beens” in your head, you went ahead of your own thoughts, slowly pulling you in a never ending spiral of destruction.

“I’m home! And guess who I met on the way?” Watching you bursting into tears on the couch in front of Nico, still adorning the tutu skirt and plastic tiara on top of your head was not the sight Lewis and Vivian were expecting when they came in.

Nico put his hands out defensively, “It’s not my fault— okay maybe I was part but I promise you I was just helping her. Not helping her cry, I just said some things that made her emotional— okay no. It wasn’t my fault I promise you, YN was just saying something and I said it wasn’t true, I just assured her. I promise I didn’t make her cry, she did that to herself.”

You burst into laughter all whilst rubbing your eyes dry, “Hi Vivian… Lewis— I swear it wasn’t him. It’s all just me being silly.” Nico gave you a pointed look, assuring you your feelings are very much valid and not silly, but you just shake your head in dismissal.

Lewis approached you, slowly wiping the tears of your face and pulling onto the strings of your heart. If you had any more tears left to cry you would’ve bursted then and there again, but you wouldn’t do that in front of Lewis. “Are you sure? Or are you just saying that because we’re here? I’m sure Vivian doesn’t mind if you tell us the truth, did Nico make you cry?”

You laugh resting your face onto the palm of his hands, “He did make me cry, but I assure you it was out of the goodness of his heart. It was either me crying or possibly passing out, I’d rather cry my heart out.” The mention of almost passing out leaves Lewis more worried than Nico being the reason for your tears.

“Darling why? Are you tired? Do you want to go home?” Go home. Home being Lewis’ apartment just a floor above Nico's. As much as you want to rest, close your eyes, and forget about all of this, you couldn’t bear being alone with Lewis yet.

You shake your head, “No… I want to play with the kids, Nico pulled us out to talk for a moment and then I had this breakdown, I want to stay I promise. It might help distract me from my own thoughts.”

Lewis, still wary, lets you off to play with the kids as he helps Vivian and Nico in the kitchen. “So… care to tell us what happened?” Nico presses his lips into a thin line before shaking his head.

“Sorry but this is about YN, if you want to know you ask her yourself, I doubt she wants to talk about it yet but don’t worry. It’s nothing alarming, I promise you— she just needs time to think about it more.”

Not convinced, Lewis presses on the issue, “She’s okay though?”

Nico laughs, “She’s more than okay! I think it’s only going to get better from here on. It was just an enlightening time for both of us, more for her, but don’t worry Lew, things are looking up from here on.”

Sitting with the kids as you continue your interrupted tea party, they shower you with hugs and comforting words before instructing you how to play tea party with them. Peeking from the door of the playroom, you catch a glimpse of Lewis in the kitchen with Nico, not before sending a small smile and waving in your direction.

You smile back at him, and to yourself. Nico was right.

It’s still Lewis— things may be looking fast for your feelings, but one thing’s for sure. You’ve been slowly falling for Lewis since then.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine

244 notes · View notes

solcito-dps · 9 months

Text

House is Cupid

pairing: james wilson x doctor!reader

words: 588

warnings: no major warnings - wilson being straight (or bi, who knows?), house being house but also kind of helpful, fake relationship, mention of marriage, kind of a plot twist, wilson kind of being babygirl.

summary: wilson needs to get out of an annoying situation, luckily you came in the picture just in time.

a/n: hi! this is my first… drabble? one shot? i don’t even know how to call it, but anyways hope you enjoy ❤️. also if there is a mistake, i’m so sorry, english is not my first language.

“You really need to get laid”

“You know? i actually agree with house on this one”

Wilson sighed and look at ceiling, trying to find an answer on why he was hearing the advices from Foreman and House.

“I’m actually seeing someone” he said.

“What?”

What?, why would he say that?

“Yes”

“I don’t believe you, what does she do?”

“She’s a doctor”

“Yeah right” House said.

Wilson was going to regret this his whole life.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but i’m dating someone from this hospital”

God, he’s so stupid.

“I want names, names so i can believe you”

“I’m sorry Wilson but, yes, i also need names”

Suddenly you walk into the diagnostics team office, and see the little reunion the three men are having.

“Oh, sorry, i was going to pick up the patient’s chart and just go.” you said

“No honey, please stay” Wilson said. “I just told house and foreman about us”

He stand up from his seat and stood in front of you, allowing him to face you and at the same time hide his face from the two men, so he could look at you with pleading eyes and mutter a “please follow my lead”.

You were extremely confused, but decided ultimately to help him because you had never seen him practically begging to anyone. You also kind of liked him but that had nothing to do with it.

“Really?, that’s great” you said

Wilson finally faced his friends, hugging you by your hip and you decided to just play along, which wasn’t difficult considering how nice it felt to be touched by him like that.

House looked at the couple with a hint of suspicion.

“That’s great, guys” Foreman congratulated

“I’m still not buying it”

Wilson rolled his eyes again.

“What do you need to believe us?”

You felt the eyes of your mentor and sometimes friend, looking at you intensely. It was obvious that House sensed something was wrong, and unfortunately, he knew about your little crush on certain oncologist who had his arm around your waist.

“Kiss”

“Wow, you’re a child”

As wilson was arguing with house about the request, you started getting more nervous than before, and started to ask yourself: ‘how did i ended up here?’.

“Ok, you want a kiss?, you’ll get your little show” you said.

Wilson was just starting to make a surprised face when you reach for his face and started kissing him, hard.

The kiss was intense, to say the least. Foreman was almost choking on his own surprise, while House looked with a little smirk.

Once the kiss was over, Wilson looked at you almost as if he was asking more, but quickly you just turned to the other doctors and said.

“Well gentlemen, a pleasure as always”

You leaved leaving a kiss in Wilson’s cheek and removing the lipstick stain that you left with your thumb, before going away and almost passing out in the hallway.

This was a story that years later House was going to say in your wedding, as long as making fun of Wilson for his fourth marriage.

What he kept to himself though, was the fact that all of that nonsense, that led to Wilson and you becoming an actual couple, was his way of helping you, knowing damn well that you were going to go to the office where Wilson was being cornered into saying that he was seeing someone.

Sometimes House could play God, but he also could play Cupid.

#house md fanfiction #james wilson #robert sean leonard #gregory house #house md #james wilson x reader #hugh laurie #eric foreman #omar epps #fake relationship

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

Burning Desire 3 [Tighnari's Route]

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Tighnari x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After Scaramouche leaves your room, Tighnari offers to take care of you while you try to recover from your previous session with Scaramouche. While waiting for Tighnari to run you a bath, the burning pit in your stomach persists, leading to you attempting to relieve yourself from the desire. The aphrodisiac continues running in your system, making it nearly impossible to control yourself.

Note: Not gonna lie. I struggled with this smut because it's been a while since I've posted smut 🥲 Don't expect any of my smuts to be good because I've always been iffy about the smuts I wrote 💀 Anyway! Keep in mind that the Burning Desire routes are mostly/pure smut. It will be shorter compared to Crave because Crave has its own plot, whereas Burning Desire has routes where readers make the decision on who's route is next. This applies to all characters, not specific characters. As previously stated in my previous smut-fics, I tried to keep the story as gender-neutral as possible. All of my smuts do lean towards female!reader/AFAB!reader with gender-neutral pronouns. As usual, minors DO NOT INTERACT! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut, aphrodisiac, fingering, cervix fucking, oral [both receiving], mating press, hair pulling, biting, orgasm denial, creampie, another failed attempt of dom!reader, Tighnari is a bottom on the first part

Word Count: 5.9k

Burning Desire "chapters"/routes: [1], [2], [3], [4]

Tighnari peeks his head into your bedroom, his ears twitching. You smile at Tighnari and gesture for him to enter your room while pulling your blanket over your body. You’re exhausted, but you’re sure it’s not from your previous activities with Scaramouche. The ache between your legs is still there, and your body is hot as ever but not as hot as it was before you were able to get your release.

“If you don’t mind, do you want me to do a brief checkup on you?” Tighnari asks, walking into your room.

You gulp and nod. A checkup is harmless! It’s not like you’ll be jumping Tighnari’s bones and start humping him like your uncle’s horny dog back in your world. Well, you’re hoping that it doesn’t happen. The strange feeling in the pit of your stomach is still present, and even if Scaramouche fucked your brains out, you think you can go for a couple more rounds.

Tighnari walks to your bed, standing before you. Tighnari takes his gloves off, putting them on your nightstand beside your bed. He places his hand on your face, pressing the back of his hand on your forehead. The warmth of Tighnari’s hands is a huge contrast to the temperature of your body.

“You’re still overheating. Although your temperature is slightly better than what it was before,” Tighnari murmurs, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

Tighnari slowly removes his hands from your face, but you frantically grab Tighnari’s hands, keeping them on your face. His hands are surprisingly cool compared to your entire body. You feel like you were standing in the deserts of Sumeru for hours with no shade to shield you from the heat. Archons, you’re hot and suffering.

“How about I run you a cold bath, and you can soak in the bath to lower your body temperature? How does that sound to you?” Tighnari offers, running his fingers through your hair.

You whimper, pressing your face against Tighnari’s chest, trying your best to restrain yourself. “That sounds nice, Tighnari. It would mean a lot to me if you did that,” you reply.

Tighnari pulls away from you, only for you to reach out for him but quickly puts your hand on the mattress below you. Tighnari raises his eyebrows at you, staring at your face intently. Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving with every deep breath you’re taking, a thin layer of sweat is covering your naked body, and your mouth is agape.

“I can sense a ‘but’ after that response of yours….” Tighnari trails off, propping his hands on his hips. “What would you rather have me do other than draw you a cold bath?”

You gulp, looking away from Tighnari. You can’t tell if your face is heating up because of embarrassment or if it’s because you didn’t want to admit how much you desire Tighnari to bury his cock deep inside your sopping wet hole. Tighnari doesn’t want to tell you this, but he can smell how wet you are.

“Please draw me a bath. I don’t know how much longer I can take the heat,” you reply.

Tighnari smiles and squeezes your bare shoulders before walking to your bathroom to draw you a cold bath to soak in. After Tighnari went to your bathroom, you collapsed on your bed, hands itching to slither down to soothe the ache between your legs. Your core is throbbing, and you really want to relieve it.

Looking over your shoulders toward the bathroom, you slide your dominant hand to your sopping-wet groin. You shudder when your fingers make contact with your hot core. You gulp and slowly penetrate your throbbing entrance with your middle and ring fingers, biting down on your tongue to muffle your groans.

“What are you doing?”

Your head jerks up to see Tighnari peering down at you. How in the world did he get on your bed without making any noise? You slowly pull your fingers out from your quivering hole. Thank Archons, you have a blanket over your naked body, or else Tighnari would see what you’re doing. Man, this is such an awkward position to be put in.

You give Tighnari a sheepish smile. “Did you start the bath?” You squeak, trying to change the subject and divert his attention elsewhere.

Tighnari raises his eyebrows at you before nodding slowly. “Yes, I drew a bath for you. I made sure it’s cold enough to cool your temperature down but not too cold to the point where you refuse to get in,” Tighnari replies. Tighnari turns around, motioning for you to follow after him. “Now come, or else the bath will become warm.”

Tighnari walks into the bathroom, leaving you behind on your bed.

“I wish I could cum again.”

You sigh, sitting up and getting off your bed. You wrap your throw blanket over your naked body, waddling to the bathroom where Tighnari is waiting for you. Tighnari dips his fingers into the water, testing the temperature. You stare at Tighnari’s fingers in a daze. If only his fingers were inside of you instead— you shake your head and lightly smack your forehead.

Tighnari snaps his fingers, pulling you out of your thoughts. You give Tighnari a weak smile when he points at the bathtub. You gesture for Tighnari to turn around so you can drop the blanket and get into the bathtub without feeling self-conscious while he looks at you.

Tighnari sighs, turns around, and closes his eyes. You slowly remove the blanket off your body and place it on the sink before dipping your toe into the bathtub. Goosebumps immediately rise on your body as you slowly get into the bathtub. You shudder, sitting down and sinking neck-deep into the tub.

“Alright, you can, uh, look now,” you say, covering your chest with your hands while pressing your legs against your chest.

Tighnari turns around and kneels beside the bathtub, pressing his hand against your face again. You clear your throat, beginning to shake your legs in the bathtub. You don’t know how much longer you’ll last. You’re in desperate need of release. Scaramouche was able to relieve you a tiny bit, but the burning pit in your stomach remains raging.

Tighnari pulls away and rests his elbows on the edge of the bathtub, examining you closely. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look shaken up,” Tighnari murmurs, resting his chin on his arms.

You jokingly say, “Maybe it’s the Scaramouche effect. After all, Scaramoouche did fuck my brains out.”

Tighnari snorts, shaking his head. You and Tighnari sit in silence while you sit in the cold water. Your body temperature doesn’t feel like it’s going to go down any time soon. Your core continues to throb painfully in the cold water. You’re itching to find release, but alas, you’re not sure if Tighnari would be okay with helping you with your issue.

You unknowingly let out a huff of breath, resting your chin on your knees. “Tighnari?” You whisper.

Tighnari tilts his head to the side, looking at you curiously. “Yes, [Y/N]?”

You close your eyes, hugging your legs to your chest. “Do you know how much longer I’ll feel this way?”

“What do you mean? Can you clarify?” Tighnari asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Archons, this is where you didn’t want the conversation to go— you having to explain to Tighnari about your desperation for release. It’s been a few days since you have inhaled the aphrodisiac that exploded all over your face, causing you to inhale large amounts of the powder. You want it to be over already because the constant horniness is driving you up the walls.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Since I breathed in the aphrodisiac, do you know how long it’ll be in my system? Despite Scaramouche’s help, it’s still affecting me but not nearly as bad as it was before,” you reply.

Tighnari hums, leaning away from the tub while stroking his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how long it’ll be in your system. You did breathe in a lot of that powder, and the best thing we can do is either assist you with your situation or we wait it out,” replies Tighnari.

You whimper pathetically, wanting to drown yourself in the bathtub water. There’s no way you can wait it out, even if it’s suggested. Well, it was recommended, but you don’t think you can last any longer if you wait it out. The aching between your legs, the wetness trailing down your legs, your bundle of nerves swollen with need, and the fire in the pit of your stomach is hard to ignore.

“I don’t think I can wait it out, Tighnari,” you whimper, “like you said, I breathed in a lot of the aphrodisiac, and we don’t know how long it’ll be in my system.”

Tighnari stares at you; his gaze darkens. “And what do you want to do? Again, it is up to you to decide whether you want someone to assist you with your situation or to wait it out,” Tighnari says.

Your bottom lip quivers. Is Tighnari trying to make you say it out loud? It’s humiliating to have to voice out your burning desire to have someone fuck your brains out until it's mush. You bite on your tongue and close your eyes, burying your face into your knees. Tighnari reaches forward and grabs you by your chin, and turns your head to make eye contact with him.

“What is it that you want?” Tighnari demands.

You swallow the forming lump in your throat. “I want you, or someone, to please help me with my problem. Please, Tighnari,” you plead.

The words tumbling out of your mouth didn’t make sense to you, but you hope you’re able to get the message across. Tighnari smiles and releases your chin before standing up. Tighnari walks over to where your towel hangs, grabs it, and walks to the tub. You hesitantly drain the bathtub and stand up. You take the towel from Tighnari’s hands and wrap it around your naked body, stepping out of the bathtub like a newborn fawn.

Tighnari grabs your bicep, steadying you. You smile at Tighnari sheepishly before walking back into your room with Tighnari beside you. Tighnari lightly pushes you onto your bed, unraveling the towel from your bare body. Tighnari scans your naked body, his pupils wide. You gulp and grip the towel tightly.

You pout and tug at Tighnari’s clothes. “It’s not fair for me to be the only one naked in this situation,” you murmur.

Tighnari’s lips twitch with amusement. “Well, I need to make sure your body is functioning fine, right? There are a few checkups I still need to do, remember?” Tighnari asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But Tighnari—”

Tighnari presses his index finger against your lips, shushing you. “Once I get your checkup done, I’ll strip, alright?” Tighnari reassures you.

You nod and lay back, gulping nervously. Tighnari hums with satisfaction before pulling you to the edge of the bed and kicking your legs apart. Tighnari places both your legs on the bed, stretching them out for him to see your dripping entrance.

Wordlessly, Tighnari kneels before your wet hole, reaching forward and swiping his fingers up your entrance. You jolt at the feeling of his fingers pressing and swiping at your hole. Tighnari chuckles under his breath before inspecting the clear substance on the tip of his index and middle finger.

“It’s interesting how the aphrodisiac is causing you to produce way more lubricant than an average person,” Tighnari murmurs.

You shut your eyes and look away, heat rushing to your face. How can Tighnari talk about this stuff so casually without feeling embarrassed about it? Maybe you feel this way because you’re the one that’s naked, and Tighnari is only a few inches from your aching heat. Tighnari brushes his thumb against your swollen bundle of nerves, causing you to whimper and tense under his hands.

Tighnari hums. “You’re also extra sensitive as well,” Tighnari says.

You press your lips into a thin line and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. You don’t know how much longer you can wait until Tighnari is finished with your checkup. Every reaction you have is from the aphrodisiac. You’re producing way more lubricant, and you’re very sensitive to the littlest touch.

You grab Tighnari’s hand and pull him. Tighnari stumbles and cages you between your bed and his body. You lace your fingers in Tighnari’s hair and press your lips against his, wrapping your legs around his waist. Tighnari pulls away from the kiss, taking a step back while taking his clothes off. You sit up and begin helping Tighnari with taking off his clothes and accessories.

Your hands are trembling, fumbling with the buttons and zippers on his clothes.

You and Tighnari could take it slow, but the longer you’re forced to wait it out and be patient, the more the ache between your legs continues to grow. Tighnari’s clothes have a lot of intricate details and accessories, making them a little bit complicated to take off compared to Scaramouche’s clothes.

Tighnari can sense your frustration as you struggle to take a piece of clothing off his body. “A little impatient, are we?” Tighnari chuckles.

You grumble and yank the final piece of clothing off his body. Now standing naked before you, Tighnari pushes you onto your back and kneels in front of you. Tighnari grabs your legs and spreads them apart. You know that Tighnari wants to prepare you for what’s going to happen, but since you’re already so wet and are dripping onto your bedsheets, there was no need for him to bury his face into your damp entrance.

Tighnari tilts your head up, stroking your cheek. “I’m going to penetrate you now, alright?” Tighnari asks.

Despite the fiery pit of need you’re feeling in your gut, you can’t help but do a double take when Tighnari says that. Who says that before having sex with someone? You snort, making Tighnari looks at you with confusion. You grab Tighnari by his forearms and pull him to lie down beside you.

You hover above Tighnari, staring down at the confused forest ranger. You wrap your fingers around Tighnari’s erect cock, giving Tighnari’s cock slow strokes. Tighnari tenses and lets out a breathy moan, crumbling beneath your hands. You can’t tell if Tighnari’s a virgin or if he’s a bottom. The way he reacted when you wrapped your fingers around his pulsing cock, his reaction to you stroking his dick at a slow pace, made you assume he was either two. But hey, there’s no shame in being a bottom or a virgin. It’s almost cute, and it makes you want to fuck his brains out until he cries.

You continue to stroke his cock, pre-cum beading at the slit of his dick. You lean down and take him into your mouth. Tighnari moans, running his fingers through your hair before gripping at the roots tightly. You bobbed your head, stroking the base of Tighnari’s cock and massaging his balls.

The sound of Tighnari’s moans, whimpers, and the sound of you sucking on his cock fills the room. You lightly squeezed his cock before releasing his dick from your mouth with an audible pop. You continue to stroke Tighnari’s cock, leaning down to lick and suck on his balls. Tighnari hisses and clenches his jaws, his body arching and his toes curling.

“Aren’t we supposed to be focusing on you?” Tighnari whimpers, biting on his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

You stop what you’re doing and release his now red cock. You chuckle and wipe the string of saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Oh? Are you not enjoying the blowjob?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

Tighnari’s face is flushed, his ears are pulled back, and his chest is heaving up and down with the deep breaths he’s taking. Tighnari doesn’t respond. He only gives you a pleading look. You crawl forward and press a kiss on Tighnari’s forehead.

“We’ll focus on my needs after I give you your first orgasm,” you reply nonchalantly.

Tighnari groans and looks away, his face almost as red as Diluc’s hair. You grab Tighnari’s aching dick before taking him in all the way until the mushroom tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to gag. Feeling the walls of your throat tightening around his cock, Tighnari lets out a loud groan as he feels his impending release.

You continue to stroke the base of his cock, and massage his balls while deep-throating him.

Tighnari grabs the bedsheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Tighnari grabs your hair with the other hand and forces you to take his throbbing cock. It happened so suddenly that none of you—especially Tighnari— expected it. Tighnari whimpers and cums into your mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he becomes limp.

You pull Tighnari’s cock out from your mouth with a pop, swallowing his cum and wiping your mouth. You shuddered as you swallowed the salty fluid, face pinching with distaste. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of consuming someone’s bodily fluids. Tighnari looks at you with bleary eyes, his cheeks flushed.

You brush his hair away from his face, smiling at him while ignoring your dripping hole and the growing fire in the pit of your stomach. Tighnari caresses your cheek, giving you a breathless smile. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

You pull away and sit in front of him. “How are you feeling?” You murmur.

Tighnari stares at you, still dazed from his release. Tighnari props himself up. “I feel great, but….” Tighnari trails off. “We were supposed to focus on you.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t mind taking charge. Plus, you don’t look like the type to be dominant in bed,” you tease, poking Tighnari’s bare chest with a teasing smile.

Tighnari huffs and glares at you, his cheeks turning a darker shade of pink. He reaches for your wrist and pulls you toward him. You cage Tighnari against your bed, pushing him down with one hand before straddling his hips. Tighnari stares up at you while you kneel, reaching for his cock behind you. You give his cock a few strokes, feeling his dick slowly harden in your grasp. Tighnari bites on his bottom lip as he watches you pump his now erect cock. You arch your back, lean on one leg and rub the tip of Tighnari’s cock against your damp folds. You and Tighnari shudder at the feeling.

You line Tighnari’s cock at your entrance before slowly sinking down. Tighnari groans, placing his hands on your hips and guiding you down on his pulsing dick. Tighnari gasps and moans when his cock is engulfed by the walls of your entrance. You dig your nails into Tighnari’s shoulders, whimpering at the stretch.

Not long later, Tighnari’s balls deep inside your cavern. You shiver and bury your face into Tighnari’s neck. Your heat clenches and unclenches around Tighnari’s thick, hot, pulsing cock. Tighnari’s hands slide down to the globes of your ass and squeeze your ass cheeks, digging his nails into your ass.

You remain sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep inside your entrance, trying to adjust to a new stretch. You have Tighnari lay on his back while you remain seated. Tighnari keeps his hands on your ass, occasionally moaning and panting as your walls squeeze around his pulsing member.

Tighnari taps on your ass to grab your attention. “Move, please,” Tighnari grunts, lightly thrusting upward and letting out a choked moan when the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix.

You involuntarily clench around Tighnari’s dick. You lean back, arch your back, place your hands on Tighnari’s thighs, and begin sliding up and down his cock. Tighnari digs his nails into your thighs before sliding his hands to your hips, guiding you up and down his throbbing cock.

You push yourself upward while continuing to bounce on his cock. You lean forward before placing your hands on his lower abdomen.

You roll and grind your loins against Tighnari’s pubic bone, feeling pleasure pulse through your body when your swollen bundle of nerves rubs up against Tighnari’s pubic bone. You jolt and tense, letting out a shaky sigh. Tighnari reaches up with one hand, groping at your chest, pinching and squeezing your nipples with his thumb and index finger.

You grab Tighnari’s other hand at your waist, lacing your fingers with his. Tighnari shifts from underneath you and wraps his arms around your waist before flipping you over on your back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to adjust to what happened. Tighnari looms over you, caging you with his arms while panting above you.

Tighnari grabs your chin and tilts your head up before crashing his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders while Tighnari has you wrap your legs around his slim waist while he’s rutting against your entrance. You and Tighnari moan into each other’s lips, rubbing your tongues against each other and holding onto each other like your life depended on it.

“You drive me crazy,” Tighnari murmurs against your lips.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his face against the base of your neck. You tighten your legs around his waist, making sure not to hurt his tail by accident. You subconsciously reach up and run your fingers through Tighnari’s soft hair, brushing your fingers against his ears. Tighnari whimpers and nuzzles his face further into your neck, lightly nibbling on your neck. You lightly pull on his hair, making Tighnari moan and thrust hard into your hot entrance.

Tighnari reaches down between your legs, lightly rubbing and pinching your engorged nerves. You jolt and clench your jaws, digging your nails into Tighnari’s back. Tighnari releases your swollen, pinched bundle of nerves before grabbing onto the headboard of your bed. He presses a brief kiss on the side of your head before slowly thrusting in and out of your entrance. You grab onto the bedsheets below you, rolling your hips against his, meeting his thrust halfway.

The bulbous tip of Tighnari’s cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, making your toes curl and your back arch with pleasure. You bite on your bottom lip to muffle your whimpers and moans, but Tighnari doesn’t seem to like that you’re holding back the sweet noises he’s coaxing out of you by thrusting in and out of your entrance.

Tighnari starts to quicken his pace, the headboard of your bed thumping against the wall behind you. Tighnari presses his hips against yours, making sure to press the tip of his cock against your cervix until you wail from either pain or pleasure. Both are good. It lets him know that you’re reacting well to his actions and that you’re not unresponsive to his actions. Tighnari’s curious about how sensitive the aphrodisiac made you.

“Tighnari, faster!” You whine, tugging on his arm to get his attention.

Tighnari takes a deep breath and unwraps one of your legs around his waist before placing them over his shoulders. Tighnari lays on top of you with his arms propping him up beside your head on the pillow and pistons his member into you repeatedly. While ramming his cock in and out of your entrance, Tighnari grabs you by your hair, tilts your head to the side as he leans down, and bites your neck hard enough to draw blood.

You let out a loud yelp, writhing beneath him. Tighnari moans as he licks and sucks on the area where he bit you, tasting your blood on his tongue. Tighnari laps at the bite mark, his hips stuttering against yours. Tighnari has knowingly marked you as his, and knowing how the others are going to react, gives him a sense of thrill. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, his lips trailing down to your collarbone while battering your cervix with the tip of his cock. You lift a shaky hand to the spot where Tighnari bit you, and you can feel the teeth marks and cut skin underneath your fingertips.

Tighnari latches his lips onto your collarbone and sucks on your collarbone. You tighten one leg around Tighnari’s waist and grind your hips against yours, trying to find a sense of relief as you feel a familiar knot beginning to form in your lower abdomen. At the same time, Tighnari continues to rail his cock deep inside of you. Archons, you can feel your impending orgasm, but it feels so far away. You wanted to cry out of frustration as you reached for the engorged nerves, pinching, rolling, and rubbing them with your thumb and index finger.

Tighnari grunts, feeling your walls tighten and pulse around his cock. Tighnari can feel his orgasm slowly start to build up as he continues to plunge his member in and out of your squelching wet hole. You can feel the tight rope in your lower abdomen start to tighten up as you’re nearing your orgasm. Tighnari suddenly pulls out of you, making you whine and protest the sudden emptiness.

“Why did you pull out, Tighnari!? I was so close!” You whine.

Tighnari doesn’t answer you. Instead, he grabs both of your legs, presses them against your chest until you can barely move, and spits on your sopping wet, throbbing entrance. Tighnari covers your loins with his mouth and begins eating you out. His tongue swirls on your engorged nerve, swiping his tongue over your slit and burying his face between your legs.

You tangle your fingers in Tighnari’s luscious hair, grinding your entrance against Tighnari’s face as he continuously licks, slurps, and plunges his tongue in and out of your entrance. Tighnari’s canines scrape against your swollen bundles of nerves, causing you to jerk beneath him and whimper. Your legs are burning from being pressed against your chest for a long time and shaking from pleasure. Noticing your reaction to Tighnari’s canines scraping your engorged bundle of nerves, Tighnari latches his lips against the small ball and sucks on it. You’re writhing, arching your back, tugging on Tighnari’s hair, and your toes are curling so tightly that it’s starting to hurt.

While you’re distracted, Tighnari inserts his middle and ring finger into your sopping, wet hole. You tensed up and groaned, whimpering as the man started pumping his fingers at a fast pace. Tighnari feels your walls tighten around his fingers, thus prompting him to pick up the pace, and before Tighnari knows it, you squeeze around his fingers. Tighnari pulls his fingers out from your heat, only for you to cry out with frustration due to Tighnari denying you of your orgasm for the second time.

“Dammit, Tighnari! Why can’t you just let me cum!” You whine, throwing your head back with frustration.

Tighnari climbs back up and crashes his lips against yours, tangling his fingers in your hair while lining the tip of his cock to your entrance. He grabs one of your legs and places them over your shoulders before slamming his cock into your heat. You bite down on Tighnari’s bottom lip at the sudden intrusion, tensing beneath him and choking out a moan.

Tighnari pulls from the kiss and adjusts his position before grabbing your waist. Tighnari starts pistoning his throbbing cock into your pulsing entrance. Every time Tighnari enters your dripping entrance, you tighten around him. Tighnari makes sure to grind his pubic bone against your throbbing, engorged bundle of nerves.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you reach down to rub the small ball of nerves while Tighnari hammers his dick into your squelching entrance repeatedly. Tighnari digs his nails into your waist, slamming the bulbous tip of his cock into you so hard that it punches your cervix each time he thrusts. The more Tighnari continues to plunge his dick in and out of your sopping, squelching entrance and grinds his pubic bone against your swollen bundle of nerves. With you stimulating the small nerve, the tight rope in your lower abdomen tightens and tightens until your vision goes white.

You cum around Tighnari’s cock, becoming limp on your bed. At the same time, Tighnari shoots ropes of hot cum deep inside your abused hole, painting the walls of your entrance milky white. Tighnari groans and collapses on top of you, his face burying into your neck as he continues to fill your insides with his cum. After a few minutes, Tighnari pulls his now soft cock out of your entrance.

You wince at the emptiness, visibly shuddering when the mix of your and Tighnari’s cum spill out of your cavern. Tighnari collapses beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist while trying to catch his breath. Once your vision comes back, you rub your eyes as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. Maybe it’s best for you to take a break from finding relief. The fiery pit in your stomach continues to rage on, and your loins continue to ache with need.

You hear a light knock coming from your bedroom door. You and Tighnari look at one another. Archons, both of you are a little worn out from your sextivities, and having to get up from the bed and answer the door feels like a chore.

“Give us a moment!” Tighnari calls out, getting up from your bed and putting his clothes on. Tighnari turns to you. “Do you want to clean up? You can stay in bed if that’s what you would prefer.”

You blink at Tighnari with bleary eyes, slowly sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. Do you want to get up right now? You’re tired and sore, and constantly rubbing, pinching, and twisting your swollen bundle of nerves made you feel extra sensitive than you already are.

You clear your throat, running your hands through your messy hair. “Yeah, I’m going to clean up again, and you can let whoever’s at the door into the room while I clean up,” you reply.

You get off your bed with shaky legs, shivering when you feel your and Tighnari’s mixed cum spilling and running down the insides of your legs and to the ground. You made a mental note to yourself to clean the bedsheets on the floor once you’re done cleaning up.

You grab a change of clean clothes and underwear, then go to the bathroom to take a shower. Before you step into the shower, you use the toilet and wipe yourself down. You turn the shower on and begin taking a shower, making sure to scrub every part of your body with body wash. You did feel some kind of relief from your intense need. Still, despite Scaramouche and Tighnari helping you reach your orgasm, the same feeling in your gut remains.

“How much of that aphrodisiac did I inhale?”

You shake your head and wash away the suds and bubbles on your body before lathering your hair in shampoo and conditioner. Whatever the amount it was, you want it to go away already. You don’t know how much more you can take and how much more your poor genitals can handle being railed over and over by all types of cocks from your lovers. But what you do know is that you need a break from being fucked repeatedly because you’re starting to get hungry, and you need to rest.

After fifteen minutes of taking a shower, you wrap yourself in a towel and stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. You look tired, and you’re not sure if it’s from Scaramouche and Tighnari or if the aphrodisiac is starting to physically affect you. You quickly got dressed into your underwear and clothes, wrapping the towel around your head before walking out of your bathroom with a pack of wet wipes in your hands.

Tighnari looks up and waves to you with the bedsheets in your hands. “How are you feeling?”

You squat down to where the bodily fluids are and begin wiping them with the wet wipes. “I’m feeling okay. I do feel tired and a little bit hungry,” you murmur, tossing the wet wipes into the trash can and placing the wet wipes on your desk.

Tighnari goes to the door and unlocks it. The door opens, and enters Thoma, holding a tray of food in his hands.

“Hey! I figured you might be hungry from your… activities. So, I made food for you to eat,” Thoma says, putting the food tray on your desk.

You smile at Thoma. “Thank you, Thoma. I really appreciate it. I’m starting to get hungry, so you brought food at a perfect time,” you reply, walking to the window and opening them to let fresh cool air into your bedroom.

You sit on your bare mattress and begin eating the food Thoma made for you while the others start piling into your room one by one. It’s a good thing your bedroom isn’t a mess and that the sheets are getting cleaned. It would be awkward if the men sat on the soiled bedsheets.

Baizhu approaches you with Dottore and Albedo at his side. “How are you feeling?” Baizhu asks.

You sigh and lightly stab the fried fowl with your fork before dipping it into the sauce. “I feel fine, for now. I notice that even after I had an orgasm, the fiery pit in my stomach will return not long after,” you reply.

Dottore props one hand on his hips while stroking his chin with the other. “That’s strange. It doesn’t seem like the aphrodisiac will be leaving your system any time soon, unfortunately,” Dottore sighs, turning to look at the others with a frown.

“I think you should take a break from this for today. I understand you’re in desperate need to get the aphrodisiac out of your system, but you do need to rest. You can’t continue this until it goes away. You’ll overexert yourself,” Albedo says, tapping his foot on the ground.

You nod. Albedo’s not wrong. You do need a break, and while sex lasts only a few minutes, sex requires a lot of energy. You don’t think you can handle having another person dick you down while you feel like a limp noodle. Although, it does sound nice— getting dicked down. But you don’t feel sexy right now. You feel like you woke up from your grave not long ago.

“Alright. I’ll take a break for today, and whoever wants to be the next person to dick me down until my insides are molded to—” Dainsleif covers your mouth with his hands.

Dainsleif sighs, his cheeks bright red. “Please, just finish your food and get some rest,” Dainsleif pleads.

You blink and Dainsleif and nod. Dainsleif removes his hands from your mouth and lets you proceed to eat your food. You wonder who’s going to be the next person to try to fuck the aphrodisiac out of your system.

Note: Ready to decide on who's route is next? Remember, the next route is in the reader's hands, not mine. I just write the story. If I could decide, Zhongli would've been the first route. Anyway, the characters that have their routes already will not appear in the next voting phases. Vote for the third route/fourth "chapter" [HERE]! I'm hoping to be able to make a new navigation post (or edit the one pinned to my blog) and make a new request form since the one linked will not count. So if anyone sends any type of request in, it's voided. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for Burning Desire: @ins4nebish, @skyyyyackerman, @w1s-t3r1a, @urlocalheizousimp, @crinklypink, @downbadforurmom, @jadedist, @kaoyamamegami, @vynniis, @4-34-am, @iamcherryblossomsbitch, @starrry-angel, @worldhardtibbysoft, @sagekun, @lucifarts-boxers, @ieathairs, @prettyra3v3n, @akemiixx01, @probablynoposts, @mortallyshamelessfella, @odevote118, @sunlightstarr, @hispasian-otaku, @n8mareee, @toobytub, @toshikochan, @firesunflames, @nightlysunn (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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writingquestionsanswered · 9 months

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this is, in my opinion, a heavy question, and i understand if you won’t answer.

how do i know if a very loaded, traumatic scene is correct for the overall story? where does the line between ‘trauma for the sake of trauma’ and a traumatic event that is needed to effect a character a certain way and to convey a message fall?

Knowing When a Traumatic Scene is Gratuitous

"Where does the line between ‘trauma for the sake of trauma’ and a traumatic event that is needed to effect a character a certain way and to convey a message fall?"

You answered your own question, actually.

Does the traumatic event affect the character in an important way? Does the traumatic event help to convey your story's theme or message? If the answer to one or both of those questions is "yes," it probably isn't gratuitous.

Another good way to tell is ask yourself, "Would the plot still make sense if the traumatic event is removed?" If the answer is "no," it's not gratuitous.

If you're still not sure, I think it's worth doing a little brain dump deep thought and really analyzing your answers. Why did you choose to write this scene? What does the scene make you feel and why? What do you want it to make the reader feel and why? If you find yourself struggling to answer these questions, you may have written the scene for the wrong reasons. Or, if your answers anything like: because it was fun to write, because I enjoy hurting this character, because I needed some drama, because I wasn't sure what else to write... these are all signs the scene is gratuitous. Additional questions: What are some of the things this scene accomplishes in the story? Are there other ways these same things can be accomplished? If you have trouble listing things that the scene accomplishes, that's a red flag. If you can list list things the scene accomplishes but can also list alternatives, that's also a red flag.

Finally, think about why you feel like you're the best person to write about and explore this particular kind of trauma. Is it something you have personal experience with? Have you had a different but similar experience that you feel offers an interesting and helpful view of this particular trauma? Do you feel that your exploration says something about the trauma that will benefit people who have been through it, and/or help those who haven't to understand it better? If you're not writing from a place of experience or similar experience, have you done a lot of research to make sure your portrayal is authentic and not harmful? Have you enlisted the help of a knowledgeable sensitivity reader who can vet your portrayal?

I hope that helps!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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#tw trauma #writing tips #writing help #wqaadvice

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 1 year

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It's Hard to Dance With the Devil on Your Back [Soulmates AU]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Soulmates AU Alternate Universe 1. A story set in a world where everyone has a soulmate, and something to indicate to them who their soulmate is and when they meet them. "You live in a world where soulmates are connected by their injuries - a new scar appearing wherever your soulmate has one. So why is your soulmate so hell-bent on getting injured?."

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Reader pronouns/gender not mentioned. Description of blood, implied that the reader was getting mugged just before the story starts.

A/N: So in this AU, you and your soulmate share scars. With Matty, we know it's a lot. I tried to be as vague as possible about how the scars show up on the reader's skin in order to be inclusive, but if you have any suggestions for edits of how I could better describe things to make sure I'm being inclusive for readers of all skin types/tones, please DM me! I'm totally open to that feedback and making those changes!

WC: 550

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

There was blood on your hands. Crimson and sticky; and fortunately (or unfortunately, you weren't sure which) not yours.

Your savior hunched over, a shadow in the already dark alleyway, gripping onto his side as the wound you were trying to help him suture gushed all over your hands.

Three unconscious bodies were around you; would-be muggers beat to a pulp with acrobatic-like precision. He saved at least your wallet and your sense of safety in this city, if not your life.

You’d heard of his reputation around town – The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen – and now were face to face with the man himself.

“Come with me, my place isn’t far.” you offered. It was the least you could do.

He was too woozy and injured to resist, using your body as a makeshift crutch as he hobbled down the street beside you.

Manhattan rent is stupid expensive, so you shuffled around him in your miniscule bathroom while he sat on the lip of your bathtub, still breathing heavily. You mentally cursed yourself for not having a better stocked first aid kit.

Reluctantly, he let you remove the mask. His hazel eyes darted at nothing as you drank in the identity of your rescuer.

You had a million questions, mostly about how a blind man spends his nights expertly beating up criminals, but you saved them for later, too preoccupied with the gash crossing his left ribs.

“Your soulmate is gonna have a hell of a time with this one.” you commented as you poked and prodded at the wound, pushing aside the shredded black fabric still covering most of his torso.

“My soulmate is probably used to it by now.” he replied, removing the useless shirt so you could work on his injury, exposing his entire torso to you.

A flash of heat washed over your whole body at the sight before you and the realization it brought on, starting at your head and finishing at your feet like a bathtub draining quickly.

His body was littered with the evidence of what he does every night, what he’s been doing for years. You had a good idea of when he started.

“What? What is it?” he asked, head tilting in concern, reacting to a gasp you hadn’t realized escaped you.

You took his hand, guiding it under the fabric of your shirt and traced his fingers along the skin of your stomach. The scar had faded over the years, but still remained raised and bumpy. It appeared there several years ago.

He licked at his pouty lips, brows furrowed as he ran his calloused fingers over your flesh.

You guided his touch to another, across your collarbone, still as red and jagged as the day it appeared.

And then he knew.

“You – you’re my…”

“Yeah.”

There was so much he wanted to explain to you, but he knew there would be plenty of time. Instead, he pointed to his left knee, curious about what was on his skin under the dark fabric of his pants. You chuckled.

“I fell off my bike when I was nine. Guess it’s not as exciting as the stories you can tell about yours.”

“No, but I’d like to tell them to you, if you'd let me.”

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #charlie cox #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil imagine #soulmate au #tropes de sept #trope

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corpsegirl-sephie · 7 months

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Slay the Princess and Death of The Author

A terrible "essay" I made to get all the thoughts out of my head

There is only one character death that can't be avoided in Slay the Princess: that of The Echo (or The Narrator, if you prefer), the one who created the construct the game takes place in, the entire scenario it revolves around, and the characters that take part in it. He was dead since before the game even began, the sacrifice he had to make for this all to work.

Why did he have to die? Because The Shifting Mound would have been changed by his perception of her, and thus the construct becomes even less reliable.

In order for this to have any chance of working, the number of perspectives that she can be molded by must be as low as possible, preferably zero, but, by the very nature of what he has made, there is one perspective that can't be removed: that of The Long Quiet. He is inextricably linked to her until his task is done.

This is where the meta-textual interpretation comes in: The Shifting Mound is the story, and The Long Quiet is its audience. A story is incomplete without someone to see it, appreciate it, analyse it, just like she is when we first find her. What's the point of a story if no one hears it? Without someone to make sense of it all it's just a bunch of words. She asks us to bring her perspectives, so that she may be whole. The game is asking us to experience it and bring our own interpretations to the table, come to our own conclusions about it, and thus make its existence meaningful.

The Long Quiet is similarly incomplete at this stage, unaware of his true nature as a god. Without a story to watch unfold, an audience can't exist, it's just people, and people with nothing to do at that. Put someone in a room by themselves for long enough and they will eventually seek relief from the crushing boredom and loneliness in the same place: art. They'll hum to themselves, or start twirling about in some semblance of a dance, or, maybe, a story will start to form in their mind. People are drawn to art and stories, they are the greatest constant throughout human history. It seems fair to say, for our purposes, that we, too, are incomplete without art.

Only by interacting with each other do the two gods come to realize their full potential. If you choose to ignore the princess, and just turn away from the cabin again and again, you will find only a torturous existence for both of you, with no meaning to be found.

However, there is a third option, neither engaging with the story nor ignoring it altogether. The Echo did put a piece of himself within the construct, as all authors do by the nature of creation, and thus, there is still a perspective that is not your own at play, that of the creator. If you choose to just follow The Narrator's instructions without a second thought you reach the "good ending" to the game, an obvious joke but an ending nonetheless. The game does end and the credits do roll, but you got nothing out of it. The princess is dead and you are a mindless husk, neither of you ever having reached your true potential.

Choosing to follow the "word of god", relying on authorial intent rather than engaging with a story yourself, experiencing it firsthand and coming to your own unique understanding of it, is gonna lead you nowhere. You will not have been enriched by what you just experienced, and the story will have no meaning.

#if you happened to see this same post a while back that was an unfinished draft i accidentally posted #also i did do this a lot sooner than even i expected to i just really couldnt sleep #slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers

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celestial-toys · 2 years

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A Vivid Imagination

In today's story- you take a nap on the couch, and your favorite pair of pants give Sun an identity crisis. In other, somehow related news, he and Moon get caught up in thoughts of what they'd like to do to you.

Pairing: Sun and Moon + Reader Word Count: 2,673 minors DNI - 18+ content below the cut

Contains: [sex] [threesome] [fingering] [afab!Reader] [sub!bottom!Reader] [implied null!Sun & Moon] [soft dom!top!Sun & Moon] [chubby / plus-size Reader] [Eclipse makes an appearance but not in the traditional sense] [Porn With Plot]

Sun and Moon might be a little bit obsessed with getting you off.

Maybe a little bit.. addicted to how easy it is to make you cum, even with with nothing but their hands to work with. They can’t get enough of it.. it just does something to them. They’ll take any appropriate opportunity they can get to rile you up and bury their hands between your plush thighs, fingers sinking into your wet heat and homing in on the spots that make you whine for them.

You certainly don’t mind it in the slightest, and you’ve made that quite clear to them on multiple occasions. You’ve given them permission to play with you as much as they’d like, as long as they always remember to ask nicely first.

So, as Sun slinks his way through the house one evening, he finds you on the couch, apparently having fallen asleep. You’re sprawled cross it with your legs spread apart, eyes closed and head resting on one arm, finally relaxing after another long day in your office spent staring at that goddamned computer screen, and Sun’s mind is already wandering to ways he could help you relax even more.

You're wearing a soft, oversized black cowl neck sweater and a pair of those gaudy split-print clown pants that were supposed to look like a mix of the designs that their fictitious counterparts wore in-game. He feels a strange mix of emotions at the sight of you wearing “his” pants. He can’t tell if it’s possessiveness or jealousy but it’s mixing in with his sexual desire and his fans have to kick up a notch to keep his temperature stable. He wants to take them off of you for two very different reasons.

On one hand, they’re simply a barrier between him and what he desires. One that he’d like your permission to remove. While it was enjoyable sometimes to keep you clothed and have you grind yourself against him, begging, panting, and whining until you soaked them so thoroughly you’d have to take them off anyways.. it wasn’t quite as fun as having direct access to the most sensitive parts of you from the very start.

On the other hand, though.. the clown clothes also serve as a reminder of a number of other, much less exciting things. Sun remembers how he used to take the opportunity to mock them nearly every time you wore them, never really getting much more of a response from you than an eye roll in return, until one day when you’d apparently had enough and decided to tell him why you wore them so much.

“Sun, I’ve had these pants since long before I created you. When the two of you were nothing more than pixels on a screen and an insane pipe-dream in my mind, I would collect things that resembled the two of you. Because.. I mean.. who doesn’t collect merch of their favorite characters, right?”

He remembers the way you began to look embarrassed at the confession, but kept explaining nonetheless.

“I had no way of knowing at the time that one day you’d actually be standing here in my living room mocking me for them, but..”

You paused there, giving him a pointed look before continuing.

“..even if I had known that.. I probably would have still bought them anyways.”

At that, you looked down, running your hands down over the tops of your thighs, over the red and yellow stripes and the blue and yellow stars. Sun never forgot the look of fondness that graced your features as you did so. It made him feel something that he couldn’t name at the time.

Before he could come up with one of his signature snarky responses, you spoke again.

“It’s kind of funny, honestly. They also serve as a nice reminder of how far we’ve come. I wore them quite often during all those late nights I’d spend at work, fussing over the two of you, you know.”

Sun’s faceplate shifted a few clicks to the left, curious if you were about to drag him down a trip on Unpleasant Memory Lane. The expression on his screen changed, his default features fading to black and leaving nothing but his signature yellow smoke billowing across the screen. You knew him well enough at that point to know that that meant he wasn’t a fan of where the conversation was going. Sighing, you stopped yourself before you could get too far into all of that.

“Regardless of any of that.. these pants were here first, they’re comfortable as hell, and I happen to love the way your original designs looked. You’re gonna have to come up with a better reason than them being an eye sore for me to stop wearing them.”

You got up from where you’d been seated, walking over to him just to make a big, playful show out of poking him in the chest as you spoke.

“You know, lots of people would be flattered to see their partner wearing their clothes.”

Sun brought his eyes back from the void of his screen just to roll them at you, and his rays took one lazy spin around his faceplate before he responded.

“Those aren’t my clothes though. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in those things.”

You smiled up at him as you took a step back, and you took in the sight of all seven skinny feet of him before saying,

“Well, I can’t very well fit into your actual pants, now can I?”

You gestured to his impossibly tall, slender frame, and then to your much shorter and wider form before giving a dismissive laugh and returning to your prior spot on the couch. After a moment of standing there taking in your words, Sun finally decided to drop the subject.

Ever since then, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s wondered if.. underneath your jokes about your size differences.. if it actually bothered you that you couldn’t fit into most of their clothes.

He truly hopes that it doesn’t.

In spite of his relentless mocking of the iconic clown pants, nowadays part of him is actually glad that you have something to wear that feels like it’s theirs. He wants you to have something that reminds you of them.. both the (ridiculous) idea of them from the past, and the real-life version, standing here, zoned out in your living room today.

Before he can get any further carried away in his thoughts and memories, a notification flashes across his HUD.

[ 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. ]

[ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. ]

[ 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜? ]

Sun pulls his attention back into reality and his monitor silently rotates on it's axis, scanning the room. His optics quickly land on Moon, who is currently leaning against the doorframe leading in from the kitchen, arms crossed and looking at him expectantly.

Sun rolls his eyes in exaggerated annoyance and mirrors Moon’s stand-offish position, leaning back against the opposite wall.

[ 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕. ]

Moon smiles.

[ 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆? ]

[ 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙. 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕠𝕡-𝕦𝕡 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕦𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖. ]

It’s now Moon’s turn to roll his eyes.

[ 𝒐𝒉, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏, 𝑺𝒖𝒏. 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 6 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 39 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕. ]

[ 𝕚’𝕞 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. ]

[ 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘. 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊'𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 ******* 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒑. ]

[ 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥? ]

[ 𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒕. ]

Sun lets out a loud, annoyed sigh, the first actual sound to break the silence in the room, and both bots look to your dozing form on the couch to see if it might have woken you. You don’t stir, and the tension slowly drops from Sun’s shoulders.

[ 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣. 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟? ]

Moon holds his hands up in mock surrender.

[ 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.. 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕.. 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆? ]

Sun doesn’t feel like explaining how your stupid clown pants nearly sent him into a spiral revisiting the complex history of his identity issues today, nor does he have the desire to drag Moon into it, so he tells a half-lie.

[ .. 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕓𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 *******’𝕤 𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗𝕗. ]

Moon’s expression shifts from one of concern into a look of confusion as he tries to make sense of why Sun had been standing there, looking so conflicted, if that’s really all that he’s been thinking about.

[ 𝒐𝒉 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚? 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍? ]

A few tense seconds pass before Sun responds.

[ 𝕞𝕙𝕞. ]

Moon doesn’t buy it for one second.

Still, he lets the lie slide for two reasons. For one, there’s no getting the truth out of Sun unless he actually wants to share it. The second reason, though.. is a bit more of a selfish one.

Sun isn’t the only one that wants to take your clothes off, and if he is willing to elaborate on his supposed thoughts.. then Moon isn’t going to turn down the potential opportunity to join in.

If Sun’s gonna lie to him, he’s gonna have to commit to his story, too.

[ 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏.. 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆? ]

Sun looks almost taken aback for a moment, surprised that Moon let his half-lie slip by so easily, until he suddenly smirks at the realization of what Moon is hinting at.

Well, if Moon is willing to let it go and move on to some far more pleasant thoughts.. who is Sun to deny him?

He thinks it over for a moment, taking in your soft sleeping form, and when he looks over to Moon for confirmation of his request, he finds his lunar counterpart’s gaze already cast over you with that familiar, cautious desire in his eyes.

Sun fiddles with a few internal settings before initiating the process.

A few moments later, an identical alert pops up on both of their HUDs at the same time.

[ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝙲𝙻𝙸𝙿𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚃𝙾𝙲𝙾𝙻. ]

[ 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚗-𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍. ]

[ 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍? ]

[ 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙴𝙳. ]

[ 𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔻ℝ𝕆ℙ 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙴𝙳. ]

[ 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜’ 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍. ]

[ 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.. ]

There’s no stopping the next flood of thoughts they get. Their motions now in sync, every sensation, thought, and emotion felt simultaneously between them, their gaze homes in on you. Still sleeping, unaware of the growing desire you spark in your partners when you shift a little and your legs fall even further open. Unaware of the show they’re preparing to put on in their combined headspace.

Thoughts of how you're already on display for them, if you'd just let them pull those damn pants down..

They know you're not wearing underwear. You rarely do.. not in the evenings like this. It gives them easier access. Just one less thing to get in the way with how most nights they approach you begging to touch you, pleading to help you feel good. They just want you to feel so goddamn good for them. They can't help it.

They can already imagine just how wet your cunt’s gonna get for them.. and those fucking sounds, god, the sounds you’ll make when they finally touch you. The way your breath will hitch when they trace a finger gently up between your folds, your slick immediately coating their digits, helping the smooth silicone glide effortlessly up, further and further, agonizingly slow. They won’t give you what you want right away. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it always feels better when there’s some anticipation involved.

They’ll trace slow, teasing circles around the base of your hard little clit until you can’t take it anymore. When your voice takes on that desperate, pleading edge and one set of their hands has to hold your hips still to prevent you from moving around under their slow, calculated pleasure, they finally show you some mercy. One wet thumb reaches up and runs up along the underside of your clit, so slow, so gentle, over and over again.

Never going any faster, never changing pace, just a rhythmic stroke across your most sensitive bundle of nerves, soft yet relentless until you start whimpering again. They'll pull away for a moment to soothe you like always, reassuring you.

One of them will climb up onto the couch with you, pulling you into their embrace as they cup your cheek, directing you to look at them.

"It's okay, Sunlight.. we know.. it's intense, isn't it?“

You’ll nod your head vehemently, over and over, desperation and want clearly written across your features as you make some sweet, shy noise of agreement.

“Mhm.. but you know we've got you, right?"

Instead of returning their attention to your clit, as they await your response, two long fingers will slip inside of you, meeting little resistance as your hips buck and your walls tighten around them in an effort to bring them further inside.

Your eyes meet theirs and once again you nod your head in acknowledgment, a quiet little whine of “please, please take care of me..” falling from your lips.

You know they’ve got you.

They’ll smile. An identical, love-drunk, hungry grin will spread across the screens of both of their faceplates. They’re so close, bodies caging you in against the too-small couch such that you can feel the hot air escaping from their vents against your skin. They’ll speak again, one of their hands finally returning to give you the attention you desperately need.

“That's right, Starlight.. just let it feel good. We know you can take this for us. Let us see how wet you can get, yeah? How much of a mess you can make.."

They know you’re sensitive. They'll be sure to take good care of you.

A pop-up flashes in the center of their vision.

[ 𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜. 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙿 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖. ]

[ 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. ]

[ 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝚘𝚛 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙴𝙳 ]

Both bots release reluctant groans into the quiet room, the only other sound being that of their fans working overtime trying to keep their temperatures down.

Then, they notice how you begin to stir from your little nest on the couch.

[ 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴. ]

[ 𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔻ℝ𝕆ℙ 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴. ]

[ 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜’ 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍. ]

[ 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.. ]

As soon as they finish the short separation process, they’re making their way over to you and dropping down on their knees in front of the couch, asking for your permission in record time.

You blink open your tired eyes and can't help but smile a bit when you see the both of them with their long fingers anxiously hovering over the waistband of your pants. They lock eyes with you and with a quick “Can we? Please?” they don’t even need to specify what they want. You know, and you’re happy to oblige them.

You hate to say no to those puppy dog eyes, anyways. Especially when they’re looking up at you like this, deep beautiful shades of burgundy, desperate and pleading.

You want to give them what they want, after all.

It just so happens that most often, what they want is to see how fast they can have your legs trembling, hands searching for purchase on any part of them you can reach, whining and repeating their names over and over like they’re God and you’re praying.

A/N: FYI, this story takes place in my ‘[Not] Made by Design’ AU, if you’re curious as to why the hell they’re behaving so differently from canon. It’s intentional! Also, I made a slight change to the wording of the sexual part of this, compared to the version of it I posted on AO3. It's inconsequential, really, but I figured I'd mention it. If you'd like to see the original and/or read more on where the original inspiration came from, you can find it here.

#sundrop #moondrop #five nights at freddy's #sundrop smut #moondrop smut #fnaf smut #fnaf nsft #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #daycare attendant #the daycare attendant #nsft writing #fnaf sun and moon #security breach smut #sun x reader #moon x reader #Seven.txt - Under The Stars #[Not] Made by Design #cw smut #dear all 37 of my beloved followers.. today i offer you smut even though i said i was gonna focus on hurt/comfort #tomorrow?? who knows..#but seriously tho i am working on sfw stuff i just wanted to get this up first cause i've already posted it on AO3 a little while back #the kudos to hits ratio on it was the worst of all my posted fics thus far so. perhaps this isn't that good. but that's okay #probably just cause this is so far removed from canon #alas #i'm gonna write my silly little meta story even if i'm it's only fan

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phantomvegetable · 4 days

Note

♡ Hello there ♡

Coming in to politely ask if you'd be happy doing a request for Legion (of the Frank variant please). 100% fine with creative liberties, but I'd adore a story following along the lines of the reader being an old flame before he ended up in the fog, and he is delighting in being a general nuisance for old times sakes. Why be nice and romantic when you can be a pain ♡

ALSO! All the best to you, your writing is really cool from what I've read, and I'm hyped you opened up requests ♡♡♡

h-HI *VIBRATING UNCONTROLLABLY* KSKSKSKDJ

YES ABSOLUTELY <33333 i love the dynamic, hehehehehheehhe

THANK YOU SO MUCH btw ;;A;; it makes my day / makes me want to write more when I hear things like this !! I really appreciate it <3

Legion (Frank) x Reader

ghosts of the future notes: soulmate au, legion members are 18+ at time of disappearance and during reader’s interactions w/ them before the fog tw’s: frank is an ass, strong language, canon typical violence & maybe some torture ?

What would it take to find out what happened to Frank Morrison?

That would be your question for the next two years after his disappearance along with his friends (if you could even call them that—they mostly just followed him around like deranged cult members… but, then again, they were your friends, too). The fucker left you with far too many questions, an unforgiving anger, and the tragic mark of a soulmate.

Yes, Frank was your soulmate—it was proven by the unsuspecting fingerprints wrapped around your wrist in an attempt to grab you during one of your more violent moments of roughhousing. It left Frank speechless, for once; meanwhile, you went berserk. Julie was his girlfriend, not you—you were just some bonus lackey with far too much time on your lonely hands and a concerning obsession with crime.

You avoided him and the Legion for days; only coming into contact with Frank when he approached you one night, alone and seemingly troubled.

“We’re finally doing it,” Frank muttered with his hands in his pockets, masked face turned away from you. “Making a name for ourselves. It’s happening tonight.”

“Good for you,” You barked out bitterly, arms crossed as you stood uneasily in your living room. “I won’t bail you out if you guys get caught.”

“Come with us,” Frank offered after a beat of silence, finally facing you with an outstretched hand. Just looking at it made you shudder—made you want to run and hide. He seemed to sense your discomfort and pocketed his hands instead, straightening himself out before you.

“I—“ You shifted, glancing away warily. “I can’t.” Frank seems to pick up on the double meaning, huffing in irritation.

“Look, Toots. Just because we’re marked or whatever doesn’t mean we haf’ta act like strangers or nothin—“

“I don’t care!” You had snapped, baring your teeth like a caged animal. “Maybe it doesn’t mean that much to you, Frank, but it does to me.” He doesn’t respond. You curl in on yourself even tighter and turn your back to him. “So just—just go.”

You didn’t mean for him to take it literally. He left you alone after that, going so far as to vanish seemingly from existence after the uncovering of a janitor’s dead body just a few days later.

But you wouldn’t let him get away that easily.

The stubborn fire that kept you alive this long coaxed into you following Frank’s trail, leading you down the same path that ended up with blood on your hands. The fog came shortly after. And when it did, you were still the one hunting. Hunting answers, hunting a hunch, hunting feelings that wouldn’t go away.

The trials were easy. You simply had to slash, stab, and destroy through them until the fog returned you to the same decrepit building that quickly became home; and, the place that you continued your search.

“Still obsessing over lover boy, hmm?” A sickly sweet voice purrs from behind, stirring you from your pondering. You barely flinch.

“What do you want, Danny?” You sigh, removing your mask to rub at your face in exhaustion.

“What, I can’t visit my favorite psycho?” He chirps playfully, fiddling with the decaying photo of you and the Legion from where he sits in the dark. You swipe it from his grubby little hands with a look that could kill. “Easy, tiger,” The masked murderer lifts his hands in mock defense. “I was just looking.”

“Yeah, well, could you not?” You groan, hunching over various notes splayed out messily on a desk. “I’m trying to concentrate.” You feel his stare on your back, the sensation louder than the silence that follows.

“You know, I could just show you where he and his puppets hang out.” The way you turn around and stare at Danny is almost comedic.

“What?” You seethe out after a moment, bones popping from how tight you ball your hands into fists. “You mean you knew where he was this whole time and said nothing?” Danny shrugs.

“You never asked.”

The urge to strangle someone was never stronger than in that moment, and you told Danny as much. He just smiles coyly from behind the mask.

When you arrive at Mount Ormond, the numbing cold is a welcomed sensation as freezing winds nip at your skin. Anything to distract you from the nerves that ate at your insides like maggots feasting on a corpse.

The instructions Danny gave you were simple enough, and even though the drawing of the cabin where the Legion supposedly camped out in was utter shit, you found yourself on the doorstep of a to-be reunion with your old mates. It felt way too formal to knock; so you fell into the familiar habit of entering unannounced, climbing through a second-story window that was left unlocked after discovering that the front door wouldn’t budge. Typical.

Tiptoeing through an unwelcoming room consisting of one worn-out couch and a busted TV, the telltale mark of a Legion mask—Susie’s, from the looks of it—resting on a torn cushion has your heart lifting as your fingers stretch to brush against it. They really were here. You swallow thickly.

“Susie?” You find yourself calling out, stepping into the empty corridor. You look left, then right. Nothing. You try a room down the hall, finding no sign of life there either. “Joey? It’s me!”

“They’re not here,” A strikingly haunting voice that makes your breath stutter says coolly from behind, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up straight and chills to prickle all along your arms. Turning to face your ghost, your gaze strikes like iron against Frank’s green one hidden from behind a smiling mask that looks like it’s taken a decent beating over the years. His arms are crossed, and he leans nonchalantly against the wall in an unbothered display. But you knew Frank, and he was pissed. And, quite honestly, so were you.

You find your fists tightening as you stand across from him just like that night, becoming more and more angry. Even more annoyingly, Frank senses this and sighs, unwinding his posture to mimic that of someone trying to calm a wild beast. “Toots—“

That did it.

With a snarl, you spring forward; your fist connecting with Frank’s stupid smiling mask and cracking it nearly in half. He grunts out in shock as he tried to dodge your right hook, hands instinctively catching your wrists just like they did that fateful day and pulling you with him as Frank is sent careening to the floor.

And, just like that, the two of you are whisked into a trial.

You’re still on top of Frank when you spawn outside, wrestling him into the snow.

“What is wrong with you?!” Frank hisses, teeth bared visibly from where you broke his mask.

“What’s wrong with me?!” You laugh cruelly, using your hips to pin him down. “What’s wrong with you?! You fucking disappeared, Frank!” He exerts an impressive amount of strength in order to throw off balance, flipping you over.

“And why would that fucking matter to you?” He retorts. “You’re the one who shut us out!”

“Well excuse me for needing a minute!” You bristle, struggling against his hold. “I had just found out that my soulmate is an asshole who also happens to be insane!”

That strikes something in Frank. He growls audibly as he pulls you up, immediately shoving your face into the snow and making a hasty retreat. You gasp as you stagger to your feet, spitting out melted chunks of ice. You whip around to search for your culprit, eyes narrowing at the sight of Frank running towards the town.

“Coward!” You call after him, giving chase.

You pass multiple survivors that are surely watching on in a stupor as you catch up to Frank, tackling him to the ground again. The two of you grapple until he has you pinned again, this time holding a knife to your throat. Your fury flares.

“Enough!” He commands. “If you want to prove something so badly, why don’t you show me what you can do?” Frank emphasizes his point by pulling his knife away and hurling it at the first unlucky bystander that attempts to flee, sending him to his hands and knees. As the man—Dwight, you bothered to remember—cries out in agony, you glare up at Frank’s slowly-forming smirk, knowing he’s caught your interest.

“Fine,” You relent, and Frank releases you. You stomp to where Dwight grovels, brandishing your own weapon and striking him down without a moment’s hesitation. Jutting your chin over your shoulder at Frank—who fails to hide his smugness—you remove the knife embedded in Dwight’s shoulder and toss it at the brute’s feet, pulling your own accoutrement free. Without waiting, you move on to your next victim, leaving Frank behind to watch you ruthlessly chase them down. He grins, joining you in the hunt.

The two of you manage to bring down five of the eight survivors, wreaking havoc to generators along the way. It becomes a sick sort of game between the two of you to see who can kill the most, and just how diabolically you executed the final blow. Unexpectedly, it does a lot to bring your anger to a simmer; your tensed muscles finally relaxing from their coils as you hack, hack, hacked away.

Another survivor falls to the ground beneath you, dead.

“That’s six,” You announce, Frank just a few feet ahead of you. He laughs—a sound that tickles your brain.

“Keeping count, are we?” He teases. There’s a playful lilt to his voice that you haven’t heard in years—a welcomed gesture.

“Someone has to,” You quip back, and Frank laughs again. You smile.

You step over the carcass and vault the window that was so narrowly missed by the unfortunate woman Frank has trapped underfoot, coming to stand by his side as she squirms and fights to no avail.

“You’re sick!” She gasps, moaning in pain as Frank increases pressure, surely breaking a rib or two.

“That’s no way to talk to the lady,” He jeers, eyes flickering at you. You snort.

“Both of you! You t-two are—ack—psychos!”

You half-expect another witty remark from Frank, half-expect him to snuff her out.

What you don’t expect are his next words.

“Then we must be perfect for each other,” He mumbles, making your ears perk. “We’re soulmates, you know?” Your heart backflips.

“Frank,” You begin to warn him, but he continues.

“Fuckin’ soulmates, you hear?” He suddenly grabs your hand and you go rigid, the contact making your stomach turn. The two of you had been wearing gloves for the entirety of the match, so no marks would be visible—but the touch was enough to make your skin tingle underneath the material. The woman’s brows tighten.

“K-Killers can’t have soulmates,” She wheezes. “You don’t have souls.” Frank’s hand tightens around your own.

“Well it’s a good thing you ain’t God, ain’t it?” He utters snidely before driving his heel down as hard as he can, ending her life. Seven. You let go of Frank’s hand and step back, Frank letting you.

“What the hell, Frank?” You whisper in a shaky breath, clouds of white dispelling the sentiment.

“…I’m sorry,” He tells you finally, turning to face you in shame. His eyes speak of the remorse he feels. “I completely disregarded your feelings when we found out we were marked, and I’m sorry.” Your chest swells in a flurry of emotions.

“But… but you disappeared,” You remind him, unconsciously drawing in on yourself. Frank, ever so cautiously, takes a step towards you.

“It wasn’t my fault,” He speaks calmly, eyes boring into your own. “I was taken by the fog, same as any washed up bastard that ends up here.”

“But—but Julie?” Frank sighs.

“Jules and I… it’s complicated,” He grimaces. “She freaked when she found out I was marked and it wasn’t wit’ her. She doesn’t know it’s you.” Your mouth feels dry.

“But…”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Frank’s voice is low and a husk away, and you didn’t realize just how close he’d gotten. “I’d say you’re fighting for reasons to stay angry at me. Why did you come all the way out here?” Is his disarming question—that, paired with the way his hand brushes cheek when he moves a strand of hair behind your ear—that has you sharply inhaling.

“I—“ You stammer, searching his face. “I was so angry at you,” You begin. “I was so shocked to find out I even had a soulmate, and then you treated it like it wasn’t a big deal—“ Your breath shudders. “I was so mad at you, Frank. To top it off, you up and disappear after telling me you were finally ‘making a name for yourself,’ and a dead body is discovered a few days later? What was I supposed to think, Frank?”

“You could have just let me go,” He mutters, hand lingering on your cheek. You drop your head in resignation, sighing.

“I know,” You grumble. Frank lifts your chin up between his forefinger and thumb as he raises his mask at the same time, finally revealing that same scruffy face you’d grown accustomed to. An oddly soft expression graces his scarred features, and you find yourself unable to speak over the lump in your throat.

“Do you still want to accept me as your soulmate, even with all of…this?” Frank gestures to the empty space where the survivor’s body once was, it having been swallowed up by the entity minutes ago. The chuckle that escapes you surprises even yourself.

“Frank,” You snicker. “I literally just killed people with you. That’s how I ended up here,” You tell him, matching his gaze evenly. He continues to search your eyes for a beat before stepping back.

“In that case…” Frank lowers his mask over his face again, retrieving his knife in one hand while holding the other out to you. “Would you care to finish what we started?”

Whatever anger you held towards Frank in that moment was now gone, seemingly melted away by those eight simple words. You accepted his hand with a small smile; one that said, okay, I’ll trust you. He begins to lead the two of you forward but stops, catching you immensely off guard when he whisks you into his arms, slides his mask up, and plants a massive, wet kiss on your cheek, surely leaving a mark that wouldn’t be so easy to hide without a covering. You let out incoherent noises as Frank slips his mask into place, laughing at your disposition while dodging your sloppy fists.

“Frank, you asshole!” Your words lack any actual bite to them, this serving to make Frank cackle even harder as he once again evades you by taking off with you hot on his heels.

#AAAAAAAA #i hope this is what u wanted.. i got kinda carried away 👉👉👉👈👈👈#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight reader insert #frank morrison x reader #the legion x reader #the last survivor watching this go down like: girl help im boutta be murdered by two lovey-dovey f r e a k s shhdhdj #IM NOT BETA READING I WILL MAKE EDITS LATER IF I NEED TO GOODNIGHT #ty again for requesting <333

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wintertraumaposting · 6 months

Text

Learning the Ropes Part 1

Draft of part 1 of a story about a subby switch finding their confidence and style as a dominant.

No gender given to the reader (the learning dominant). The sub is described as a girl and feminine, but undefined much beyond that.

********

Learning the Ropes

The friend of your domme is all too familiar, although you've never seen her quite like this. She kneels on the ground in front of you, entirely naked, save for a blindfold and pair of noise cancelling headphones. By her expression, you can tell she's excited, but unsure of what's to come.

"Doesn't she look precious?" Your Domme asks as she steps in behind you. Her voice is enough to send a submissive shudder down your spine, which she immediately notes. "Ah ah ah, my pet. You wanted to practice being dominant, so you must put aside those feelings for the moment."

"Y-youre right," you answer, although the shaky uncertainty you feel is still obvious in your voice.

Your Domme steps beside you. She has such a natural dominating aura. Even when she's doing nothing more than standing in place, you dream of being on your knees before her, feeling her control washing over you.

The snap of her fingers brings you back to reality. "Focus, my sweet. You are in control here, and that comes with responsibility. I made sure your playmate would be unaware of your first reaction, but once she is following your command she needs to know that you know what you are doing." As if sensing your continued uncertainty, she gives your shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

"Yeah. I'm in control." You whisper under your breath, trying to convince yourself. You've wanted to be dominant for such a long time. It's just so difficult making all those decisions, dealing with the responsibility, and the anxiety about doing anything wrong. "So, what should I do?"

The sadistic glint in your Domme's eye tells you exactly what she wants to do to the eager submissive kneeling before the both of you.

"That is not for me to say. You are the one in control here. You know your submissive's kinks and limits. She is eager and awaiting instruction. She wants this. She wants *you*. So the question is, what do you want?" Her question is followed by her stepping over to a seat in the corner. "Remember, my sweet, you are not me, so do not try to be. Be yourself. Find your own style that suits your desires. Now, I think you have kept this beautiful flower waiting long enough."

You turn your attention back to the kneeling girl. Despite her lack of awareness, she really does look eager for whatever is to come, and you know exactly what is off the table. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a breath and centre your thoughts. You're in control. You can do this.

Stepping forward, you remove the headphones from her head. There's an immediate shift in her posture to a more attentive state. Just seeing how ready she is for you gives you a flicker of understanding about why your Domme finds controlling others so fulfilling.

"Hi," you say, unsure of how to begin.

"Hello. How may I serve you...?" She tilts her head, unsure of how she should refer to you.

"Your highness," you state with a confidence that surprises you, especially considering you hadn't even thought about honorifics.

"How may I serve you, your highness?" She repeats her question, now referring to you correctly.

"Present yourself." Your mind runs through the multitude of submissive positions your Domme has drilled into you. "Hands behind your head, leaning up and out," you continue before you can get stuck in a loop of indecisive thoughts."

The girl before you immediately obeys your command. She leans up from her kneel to push her beautiful body out towards you. Her legs spread out along the soft floor, giving you a perfect view. At the same time, she brings her hands up behind her head, locking her fingers together.

"Good girl," you tell her, after you've spent a few moments admiring everything she has, everything that you can play with.

You step past her to a table by the bed which has all sorts of toys laid out. Nothing too complex for your first time taking charge. Your Domme took the time to make sure you could safely use everything on display.

Before you can grab the collar you came for, you notice her head slightly turned in your direction. Despite still being blindfolded, she is trying to be attentive towards you. Reaching back, you take a soft hold of her hair, which is enough to make her shudder. You tilt her head so she's facing forwards once more.

"I'm sorry, your highness," she quickly says. She gives no explanation or excuse. You can hear the genuine submissive joy in her voice over even the simplest form of control. It fills your mind with more ideas of what you can do with her, just to know you're making someone feel so fulfilled.

Turning your attention back to the table, you pick up a soft, black leather collar with a D ring on the front. It has enough weight to always be noticeable, but not so much that would draw attention from other stimulation.

"Hold your hair up for me." You're still getting used to someone so eagerly following your commands. Leaning down, you wrap the collar around her throat, and are met with a sharp intake of breath. You recognise that excitement at the feeling of something being wrapped around your throat, making you feel owed, knocking you deeper into a subby haze. Not dwelling on how much you enjoy being collared yourself, you buckle it in place. Tight enough to be a good reminder of your control, but without restricting her breathing or blood flow.

After stepping back in front of her, you note just how perfect she looks with a collar around her throat. It seems like it should've always been there. And the satisfaction you feel from knowing you were the one that put it there is priceless.

In her current position, her legs are bent up in a way that puts strain on her muscles. For a short time, this is fine, but you know--from personal experience--she won't be able to maintain it forever. That knowledge gives you a delightful, if mean, idea.

"Remember, you are to keep this position until I release you from it." The confidence in your voice still shocks you. Fake it till you make it you suppose.

"Yes, your highness." Somehow she manages to sound even more submissive now. Impressive.

Kneeling down, you trace a hand down her cheek, moving towards her mouth. Her lips part just enough to make it clear she's ready to accept whatever you might put inside, but your fingers continue on. They trail downwards towards her chest. Now your other hand joins, this one dragging your nails just enough to be slightly painful.

Your hands take their time, stopping to circle, moving back up. It's thrilling to watch how she responds to just the slightest touch, how you're getting her worked up without even touching her intimate areas. It's almost enough to make you remove her blindfold so you can see the needy look in her eyes.

While you do enjoy drawing this out for a lot of reasons, you're mainly buying time for the muscles in her legs to tire. She'll have to choose between obedience and giving into her body. You have no idea how long she will last, but you can see the struggle beginning to settle in. Her legs quiver, and her deep breaths of excitement are mixed with ones of concentrated exertion.

To take your teasing up a notch (or a few), you lean in close, putting your lips to her ear. "You're doing such a good job for me. Obediently following my instruction. Good girl."

Your words alone are more than enough to elicit a desperate moan from her, but at the same moment, you start to tease her nipples. For just a second, you're jealous of just how sensitive they are. Then, you realise just how fun that makes them to play with.

Her breathing quickly becomes ragged and desperate, all the whole intermixed with noises of whiny need. Yet she still manages to hold herself in place.

Your right hand leaves its post, teasing down to between her legs. As expected, she's dripping. Just that clarifying touch is nearly enough to make her legs buckle. She shifts out of place, but manages to correct her posture.

"Y-your hi-highness... P-please." You don't have to be looking at how her hips are trying to buck forwards into your hand to be able to know what it is she desires.

"Please give you a taste? Since you're doing so well." Before she can reply, your fingers are pulled away and pressed to her lips, which she readily accepts. The delighted moan she gives is one that tells you you've just knocked someone to a new level of subspace. That knowledge is as delicious to you as the taste of her own arousal seems to be to her. "Such a good little *slut*," you whisper directly into her ear, before giving it a playful bite.

That seems to knock her struggle to remain still up to the next level, so before she can slip back onto her heels, you ease her into your arms with gentle reassurance. "So good at following your highness' orders," you coo.

With a momentary princess carry, you get her settled onto the comfort of the bed. Still blind to the world, she has little choice but to await verbal instruction. The way her hands grip onto the covers does betray how badly she would like to touch herself. It brings a smile to your face to see that she knows better than to take pleasure without permission.

While you've avoided her gaze for fear of being knocked into your own subby headspace, you spare a look towards your Domme. There is an expression of happy pride on her face. She knows she taught you well, but more than that, she enjoys the opportunity to witness you exploring yourself (Plus it's hot as hell to watch her sub teasing and dominating a pretty girl.).

Turning your attention back to the table of toys, you decide what you want to do with your eager submissive next.

#softdom #kink writing #Winter's Stories #d/s #teasing #bd/sm kink #obedient sub #sensory deprivation #writeblr #nsft writing #original writing #bd/sm switch #t4t nsft #t4t #nsft #Winter Writes Stuff

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 2 years

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Found You | Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | Ghostface, Dead By Daylight

Sum. Jed Olsen watches as you seemingly fall from sanity, watching in amusement as you attempt to run from the killer. You have no choice but to attempt to save yourself, but as you lose hope, you realize that in the end, you have no choice.

Warnings. paranoia mentions, cursing, intimacy with a killer(?)

Word Count. 2127 words

Reader. fem!reader

A.N. i haven’t actually written anything in almost a year so pls be nice yall :’) i tried my best and ill have more things coming out soon

There's something in the way Jed keeps his eye on you, that leaves you feeling odd, feeling… pinned.

His gaze is friendly, it's warm, and empty. The way his pupils seem to see a bit too large, lulling the naïve or those under the social contract into a mutual agreement of silence, and leaving you unable to rip his gaze from the back of your head. You felt like prey, being stalked, hunted.

But Jed is just so great.

He's an amazing writer, brings in hundreds of thousands of reads, and makes meaningful connections for his career. He’s got a great sense of humor. He’s good-looking. He’s a great conversationalist. He puts on a great show.

A show.

Jed Olsen is a liar, an obsessive man.

You feel his eyes on your body as you stand in your coworkers office, in a small group of four, chattering away about deadlines and word choice, propaganda, and anything else to do with your friends' writings and stories ready to be sent in and revised. You only half-listen, your cheeks felt like someone lit a match to them as your body screamed in fear, begging you to leave the room with walls of glass, to get his gaze off your body.

You excuse yourself, and walk to your own office, the hunt is on, and while you feel the eyes fleeting from your body, the sensation of being prey never leaves. You’re clocking out early. That's it. You’ll work from the safety of your home. Away from the deep coffee eyes that can’t remove themselves from you. You shove your shit into the small backpack you have, hurrying as you send a message to your boss about needing to take some time off, and how you’ll be working from home. The stress seems to calm as you're ready to leave, calming as you weave through the other offices and wait for the elevator to come up, the feeling of eyes on you go.

Your heartbeat suddenly picks up as the door opens, filling your ears, and you hold your breath. Your name is called by the devil himself as you walk in, a hand on the doors, his figure taking up the entirety of the entrance. It’s ominous, how large he is, with such a nice face. A wolf in sheep’s skin.

“Hey there, you seem a little tense.” Jed smiles, before standing in front of the buttons, hitting P1 before asking you for your floor.

“The lobby, please.” You keep it short.

“Oh? Leaving early? I hope you're feeling well.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, so he does it manually, like an AI attempting to mimic emotion. You don’t like this, being so close, it's suffocating. The elevator is only so big, the air is thick with tension, and his gaze is eating you up as it flickers up and down your figure.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Heading out of town for a couple days.” You lie.

“Sounds exciting. Are you leaving with anyone?” He’s expectant.

“My boyfriend. We’re visiting his mother for a celebration.” You lie, again.

“Boyfriend? Lucky man. Hope you have fun.” His smile is a bit strained, and his eyes are narrowed, jaw tightening at the word boyfriend.

The elevator opens to the lobby, and you're thankful to take the train home, something public. Where the safety of the herd keeps you safe, the social contract comes to mind, and you sigh with a real smile on your face this time.

“Yup. Well, thanks for the talk, see you around, Jed.” You step out quickly, and the doors start to close, his body moving to the center of the elevator, his eyes still on you as you turn to face him again.

The tension leaves as the door closes more, the air thinning, but the way his face rests sends a chill down your spine, and his eyes speak a thousand words. You know better than to speak out loud, to complain about him, to ask for help.

Running is your only option.

But that look, the obsessive one, speaks to you as you watch the doors close.

I know you’re lying to me.

Your heart leaps from your chest, and you berate yourself mentally as you dissect every part of that conversation, that interaction. Why didn't you just ignore him? Just keep it simple? Why did you lie? Fuck, you should’ve taken the stairs, the next elevator. Do you not go home? Spend the night in a hotel? You have the funds, but is your paranoia getting the best of you? Or is this the beginning of something you know will haunt you?

Fuck it. It seems to be your motto of the day. You pull up the hotels near the innermost part of the city, something nice, expensive, and good security. Your mind has been running all day, your survival is on the line, and you can’t even remember the morning you spent in your own apartment. Your memory is shot, and Jed Olsen is running around your mind and something about his fucking eyes-

Cold. Primal. Yearning, even.

No, don't think like that. This isn’t a time to look into things, especially since your emotions are running so high, your heart is racing and you feel like throwing up at certain points of your journey.

But Jed-

Whatever that thing is, it’s not Jed. Jed is a façade. A fake. A personality. You can tell. From the way, it takes a moment, a split second, for him to answer his own name. The way he reverts to someone else when he's alone, calm, or thinks he's not being watched. Jed only comes out when he's interacting with people. When he wants something. To be liked.

To be normal.

“Are you checking in?” You snap back to reality, and suddenly your wallet is in your hand and you're speaking with the concierge, he’s looking expectantly.

“Ah, yeah. I made a reservation? Under, shit, let me get my personal card.” You muttered, telling him your name and how you’ll only take a quick second to fish out your card, sighing in relief when the red plastic is free and between your fingers.

“Alrighty. And the room is a King Bed, skyline, and room service? Anything else you’d like to add or change?” He smiles, and your mind blanks once again, and you could only smile and shake your head before accepting the keycard.

The lobby is beautiful, golden and marble, open, and calm. It makes you feel revered and elegant but on your toes. Like a show is to be put on, but you decide to make your way to the elevator, and your body starts to relax, and you think that your days off will give you some peace.

Peace. Calm. Your head is spinning. Your body feels heavy as the adrenaline leaves your body. The cold wall of the inside of the elevator is welcoming, and the doors start to close, and you feel your body chill immeasurably.

Walking through the large, glass doors, is the thing you’re trying to escape.

How… how did he… find… me…?

Jed Olsen only smiles as he looks around, and spots you, before stopping to give you a small wave.

Your heart stops as you realize.

He’s smiling for real this time. At you. For you.

ii.

And you couldn’t help but melt.

The skyline view absorbs your attention, the door of your room is locked, your extra lock that is hooked around the deadbolt makes you feel something. But you couldn’t say it was safe. Your mind is empty as the same question runs through your mind over, and over, and over again.

How did he find me?

Me? How? Why?

Find me? How? How’d he… do that.

The sun starts to set, and the warmest colors fall behind the horizon as the Golden Hour soaks into the room, giving your body much needed warmth that gives you the semblance of comfort.

But you remind yourself this is a waiting game.

Do you cry? Should you cry? Will it make you feel better that you can’t escape the being that is him?

Helplessness settles in, and your body falls into itself as the weight of your situation crashes onto you, laying down on your bed and letting a long breath escape your mouth. A few silent tears manage to escape, and your numbness only grows as you hear a card slide from the other side of the door, a small ping signaling the unlocking, and footsteps coming in slowly as it is locked behind Jed.

You hear muffled breathing, and don't bother to move, your fatigue and hopelessness crushing your body further into the mattress. The footsteps started again, heavy, confident, and in stride with confidence.

“Hello, darlin’, I know you’re not sleepin’ there.” The voice is smooth, but doesn't sound quite right, and it's quite clear that a voice changer is being used.

A voice modulator.

Just like Ghostface was known to use.

Muffled breathing.

It was blocked by a mask.

You couldn’t help but let a loud laugh out. It was short. Loud. Obnoxious. And you couldn’t help but keep laughing. Your small giggles slowly turned into cackling as it became hard to breathe, your cheeks aching and your stomach started to cramp from the pain as your lungs burned.

You only heard a soft sigh, before the killer moved, watching as you rolled over on your back on the bed before he slid onto the mattress next to you. He’s sitting up, pillows against the headboard cushioning his back as he waited, knife sheathed in its holder as he looked straight ahead.

His eyes watched you intently, through the mask in his peripheral, taking a deep breath as he watched you slowly start to calm down.

“Hehe, wow.” You prolong your fake exclamation of surprise.

“I never would’ve thought… Jed Olsen… hehe, I really was naïve. Let my paranoia get in the way.” You spoke breathlessly, exciting the killer ever so slightly, fingers twitching at the sound of his name. His breathing is heavy, and you noticed the small signs, but you couldn’t care for the danger that lay next to you in the bed.

“Jed… why me?” You asked, calming down after a few moments, hands on your stomach as you lay flat on your back. He slowly turns his head in your direction, looks down, and tilts his head. A gloved hand moves slowly, from your wrist up your arm, and his body turns; he switches arms and leans in his left side, his right arm coming up to push your face towards his mask.

You only hear deep breathing again.

And ironically, you’re not scared. You can’t even feel your heartbeat, and you’re lightheaded, unable to think as you simply watch the Ghostface move slowly as he touches you. It was tender, curious, and predatory.

“Danny.” He’s curt.

“Danny? What happened to Jed?” You asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper, peering into the inky darkness of his mask.

“Jed isn’t real, darlin’” He’s slightly forceful in his speech, and you only nod, his hand cupping your face as you start to move.

“What is it you want from me then, Danny?” You asked, and his head tilted again, before he moved to slowly climb on top of you, knees on each side of your hips as his hands sunk into the area around your shoulders, barely touching you while the mask moved closer to your face.

“Do you really wanna know?” He’s musing, his breath is shaky, and you can only seem to hold your own.

If he wanted you dead, he would’ve done it, right when he walked into the room.

Ghostface liked to play with his prey, but not like this.

“Yeah…tell me, Danny.” Your voice is soft. He lets out a soft groan as he listens to his name slip off your tongue, not his fake one, but his real name- years since he’s been called Danny.

“Let’s keep this short then…” He trailed off, moving to sit on your pelvis, keeping most of his weight on his own legs that pinned your hips tightly under him. He chuckles just a bit, and something lifts in your head, still numb, but more interested.

“I just can’t seem to get you off my mind, and I really can’t bring myself to kill you.” He sighs.

“And since I can’t kill you,” He breathes deeply, bringing a hand to the mask, slowly pulling it from his face, his hood staying in place as the darkness of his eyes swallows you whole, a horrifying glee filling his face.

“I’ll just have to keep you, all to myself.”

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #dbd x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x female reader #fem!reader #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #x reader #reader insert #queen.writing #golden age masterlist

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 10 months

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

Our earlier lovemaking left a sense of joy and sadness in my heart and body.

Mitsuki: "Nn..."

Drake: "Are you awake?"

Drake was looking at me while I used his arm as a pillow.

(I must have fallen asleep without noticing.)

Drake: "Mitsuki, are you feeling any pain?"

He gently stroked my hair, and memories of what happened before I fell asleep quickly came flooding back to my mind.

(I confessed to him, and then...)

Just recalling the warmth and gaze I felt during that moment made my face flush.

Mitsuki: "I'm okay, thank you."

Drake: "That's good."

He smiled, but a faint sigh escaped his lips.

Drake: "But if the guys find out I brought you into the bed, they might tease me."

Mitsuki: "I'll tell them properly when the time comes. It's something I wanted."

Drake: "Geez, you..."

Drake: "These things aren't something only women should bear, you know?"

He pulled me closer, and my heart started beating faster.

We exchanged words like a couple in love, yet something still bothered me.

(I thought it was okay for things to turn out like this because I like him, but what does he really think of me?)

(Does he like me, too?)

But if there were no romantic feelings there, then what could that emotion have been?

(If things continue like this, I’ll just keep going around in circles.)

I gathered the courage to ask what was really in his heart when, suddenly, he removed his arm under me and sat up.

Then he picked up something from the holster hooked to the chair.

Drake: “Hey, Mitsuki. I think you should hold on to this gun, after all.”

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Drake: "It's already loaded."

He pressed the gun into my hands more seriously than the last time.

I sat up as well, covering myself with the sheets as I faced him.

Mitsuki: "Are you worried? I caused trouble with the hunter incident."

Drake: "I don't see it as trouble, though."

Drake: "I just want you to have it."

Drake: "Shoot when your life is in danger, even if it's me."

Mitsuki: "You're making that joke again."

Drake: "Mitsuki."

He gently touched my cheek as I tried to laugh it off.

Drake: "I said earlier that saving you from the hunters was just me repaying a debt. That's all it was between you and me, a transaction. Yet, I'm a bit surprised at myself for making and keeping that promise with you."

Drake: "I've lived as a man surrounded by betrayal, after all."

(Does that mean he didn't think he would keep his promise?)

Mitsuki: "Do you not trust yourself?"

Instead of answering, he showed a somewhat self-deprecating smile.

Drake: "I'm used to being betrayed by others and betraying myself."

Drake: "I can swear and make promises, but when push comes to shove, I can easily discard such things without a twinge of conscience."

Drake: "It's not often that I act for someone without any ulterior motive."

Drake: "But Mitsuki, you're different."

Drake’s gaze, wandering in the silence of the night, turned towards me.

Drake: “You’re a naïve person who believes what you want to believe and laughs even if betrayed.”

Drake: “You even offered your body willingly after I forcibly bit you.”

(That’s...)

Now I understand that the reason I didn’t resist being bitten was not just because I’m a naïve person, as he said.

(I already liked him back then.)

(I accepted his fangs, even if what he wanted was just blood.)

Drake: “Spending time with you and making promises doesn’t suit me. But maybe I wanted to keep a promise this time.”

Drake: “Though I’m not sure how serious I am about that, either.”

He mumbled, questioning both his actions and his true feelings.

His words to me, however, felt like a precious glimpse into his heart.

(Even though he said it was a transaction, he kept his promise not just out of obligation but because it was a promise with me.)

(Can I really allow myself to think that way?)

I don't know what kind of feelings he has for me, but...

(I feel like I understand him a little.)

Believing in something was incredibly difficult for someone who had lived in a world where betrayal was commonplace.

Trusting someone with your heart was something truly special.

Still, his words seemed to imply that a small part of my existence resided in his heart. His confession of feelings, not necessarily love or friendship, filled my chest with both joy and sorrow.

(Even if it's not love, knowing that much is enough for me.)

Mitsuki: "Thank you for keeping your promise."

Mitsuki: "No matter what you think of yourself, my feelings haven't changed since we made that promise."

Mitsuki: "I still believe in you."

Drake: "......."

Mitsuki: "I promise once again not to betray you."

Mitsuki: "I'll keep this gun as a symbol of our promise."

Drake: "Haha! Trusting me so completely is really naive of you."

I stared at the gun that connected us as he shrugged his shoulders, laughing.

(No matter what happens, I can't imagine pointing a gun at Drake.)

(I'm sure I'll never pull this trigger.)

But contrary to my thoughts,

Drake: "Mitsuki, if I betray you, don't hesitate to pull the trigger."

Drake: "The moment you hesitate, I will take everything from you until your body, heart, and destiny are shattered."

He looked at me as if he himself had made up his mind.

In the deep night darkness, Drake gazed at Mitsuki, who had fallen asleep again.

Drake: "I didn't intend for things to turn out like this."

Drake: "Even though I only had dry emotions towards you, why did I still find you cute?"

He put a teasing smile into his boyish emotions and gently stroked her soft cheek with the back of his hand.

Then he got up from the bed and picked up the small bottle from the table.

It was the seashell bottle that Mitsuki had given him.

------------Flashback-----------

Mitsuki: "The sand inside is called star sand and sun sand. They say having it grants wishes."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Drake: "Wishes, huh?"

He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them again, his gaze had turned cold.

Drake: "The fate you bring and the fate I seek will never align."

Drake: "I've warned you, Fawn. This is a gamble."

Drake: "You said you wouldn't betray me, but what will you do if I betray you?"

After Drake got better from his injuries, he went to an unfamiliar place.

He stepped into the university courtyard and found the person he was looking for sitting on a bench with a book in his hand.

He sat at the opposite end of the bench and spoke without looking at each other.

Galileo: "I see you've made contact with the vampire hunters."

Drake: "Yeah, Mitsuki was kidnapped, so we carried out a rescue mission."

Galileo: "In a certain fate, the people, driven by anxiety after learning about the existence of vampires through intermediaries of the hunters, would engage in indiscriminate hunting. That future could have happened."

Drake: "Too bad it didn't turn out to be anything serious. The matter has been settled for now, thanks to Mitsuki's involvement."

Drake: "Well, I guess I also played a part in it."

Galileo: "Drake, was that your will, or were you just dragged into it?"

Drake: "Who knows?"

Galileo: "Either way, it seems that girl is present at the turning point of fate."

Only peaceful university noises flowed between the two for a while.

Drake: "Hey, Galileo. Can you let me have my freedom from here on?"

Galileo: "What do you plan to do?"

Drake: "I just want to make a bet on whether my wish can come true or not."

Galileo: "And what is your wish?"

The conversation was interrupted once again.

Isaac: "Professor Maury, I'd like to hear your opinion on a student's thesis."

Isaac: "Huh? Drake? Why are you here?"

Drake: "Yo, Newt. I was just looking for a good place to nap and ended up here."

Isaac: "What the hell is that?"

Galileo: "Are you acquainted with him, Professor Ayscough? This guy has been bothering me, so I'll take my leave now."

Isaac: "Ah, yes. Sorry about Drake."

As if switching gears, Galileo left the scene, making it seem as if he and Drake were complete strangers.

Isaac: "Drake, what kind of interaction did you have with Professor Maury?"

Drake: "Hm? We just had some small talk."

Drake: "Well, since the bench is now free, I'm gonna take a nap."

Isaac sighed as Drake nonchalantly lay down on the bench.

The relationship between Galileo and Drake remained unknown to everyone.

Several days later, a dinner party was held in the mansion's garden.

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#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp jp #ikevamp francis #ikevamp translations #cybird

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