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#their circle-wide habits
kyofsonder · 2 years
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Find the Word 2
I’ve been tagged by several people recently to find select sets of words in my WIPs, and this time I’m not combining them since those posts tend to get a little too long. For this post, I’ll find some words that @aohendo chose for me. Thank you for the tag, for your patience waiting for me to respond, and for the chance to keep playing my favorite game!
My Words: reflect, reach, raise, rely, rampant
I’ll Tag: @on-noon, @perasperaadastrawriting, @maybenow22, @inkovert, @inkspellangel, and as always anyone who wants to join in can use the following words and say I tagged them!
Your Words: stable, shift, reflex, start, influence
As always, I’ll put the excerpts themselves below the cut for readability. 
I found reflect(ed) in my Danny Phantom fanfic “Lingering Scars”:
"It's not just Vlad, either! Every time we fight together, someone else finishes the fight! Strong core? Stability? None of that even comes up! I only have fewer injuries than you because I've already been pulled out of the fight by the time things get serious! I'm always being protected, so of course I'm not getting hurt! Ever! You always keep me safe in dangerous situations!" Dani's eyes flash green, her palms glowing with an energy she immediately snuffs out as soon as she catches it in her peripheral vision. The growl he's been feeling in his own chest and throat echoes under her voice now, like the anxious rumblings of some kind of juvenile big cat -- something large and angry, but not yet grown into its size or its rage.
"Okay! Alright! You're mad! But you're in a house of ghost hunters who would shoot on sight if they caught you in my room, so keep it down!" Danny whisper-shouts back at her, that same growl reflected back at his little sister to drive his point home. It doesn't work. 
I found reach in several of my WIPs, including my short story “Kiyo”:
My sleep comes with dreams. I'm not the type to dream often, but I usually know when it's happening. I get the feeling that something is off. Shifted. Tilted diagonally, just a little. I can feel that now, in an apartment without Kiyo. I go over to her usual spot, wondering what kind of subconscious-fueled nonsense I'll see in her place. A black hole that eats everything that gets close, maybe. A well, full of water I won't be giving to my roommate at dinner time anymore. I drag my feet all the way there, somehow knowing that the dream won't let me do anything else until I've seen whatever it is for myself. When I finally get there, I don't see a black hole or a symbolic well or even an empty plant pot. I see a note, too small to have possibly been printed through a regular printer but too neat and uniform to possibly be handwritten. I don't need the dream to prompt me here. I just reach for the note on my own.
I found variations of raise (raised, raises, etc.) in almost all of my WIPs, including my novel “Apricots”:
"Alright. Okay. I'll say the thing. I... give me a second, it feels weird to say something like that so suddenly," he laughs under his breath, the sound a mask to hide his doubts about this whole situation, then straightens his spine and mimics the expression that Noah had made when he'd said the line initially, "'I walk in the direction of truth.'"
"Thank you," his friend sounds so relieved, it takes Ian a second to notice that there's something on his wrist that wasn't there before. Noah's own hands are raised on either side of his head, almost like he's apologizing. He takes a step back from Ian, who takes a step toward him to close the distance and instantly regrets acting on reflex. His leg jerks when it doesn't connect with the ground, his whole body lurching forward as his stomach tries to drop out of his abdomen. The sensation makes him dizzy, everything spinning so violently that he has to shut his eyes. All he knows is the sensation of falling, without ever landing.
I found rely in my novel WIP “To Be Honest”:
In fact, he'd prefer to avoid today's meeting altogether if he could. Keep studying on his own. Repeating the steps exactly as he reads them in his textbooks. Figuring things out without any outside input. Getting it wrong. Getting stuck. Having to retrace his steps and start the same spell over again. And again. And again. If he keeps going at this pace, he won't even pass the basic refresher course on bloodline spellcasting until he's cleared every other class Dawnriver has to offer. He'll never graduate. Never become Centerpoint. Never be in a position to actually negotiate on equal footing and get his answers. He can't afford to rely on himself alone this time. As much as he hates doing it, and as bad of an idea as it is to go when he hasn't had time to prepare, Micah needs a tutor. He needs help.
I didn’t find rampant, so here’s a fun fact related to the previous excerpt:
I’ve mentioned it before, but Micah is a Bloodline Witch. This means his magic is inherited as a natural-born ability. Having this type of magic also means he can be called a Circle Witch. The title of Circle Witch refers to the circles of influence in which these magical bloodlines operate. Every family that mutates the ability to use magic will also have branch families, allied neighbors, and magic users they're on friendly terms with or have authority over in some capacity. It's similar to an ecosystem, where every animal living in a tree has its own role to play and offers something to the tree but would be vulnerable without the tree's protection. The Renner family is the tree for branch families like the Ritters, and allies like the Path family of werewolves. Within every core bloodline like the Renners, every sheltering tree, there’s one individual who holds the most power and influence over everyone else in the bloodline and its extended Circle. This individual is called the Centerpoint, the core of the core of a family’s Circle. In the canon of "To Be Honest," the Centerpoint of the Renner family is going to step down in a few years. Anticipating this, Micah and his two cousins are all in training to take a test that might just earn them that coveted position within their family and its larger Circle. By the end of the story, one of them will become the new Renner Centerpoint. 
I’m not entirely sure that fun fact made sense when shared on its own, but it’s something I’ve been meaning to clarify since the on-page revelation of Centerpoints and Circles in TBH unfolds somewhat slowly. Thank you again for the tag, it was fun to find these words!
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noahsresources · 1 year
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details about ocs!
send an emoji/description of emoji to learn more about a writer's oc! many of these are taken from my munday asks meme, because i thought it would be fun to make a version for characters too! the prompts are categorized by emoji type and given descriptions in case anyone can't see the symbols. can be used for roleplayers and any general writers alike! for roleplayers, these can also be used for your interpretations of canon characters if you so desire as well!
𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒. 💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)? 🚗 CAR — does your oc have a driver's license? can they drive/operate any automobiles/machinery besides cars? ✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person? 🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies? 💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings? 🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos? 📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)? 🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)? 🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities? 🩸 DROP OF BLOOD — what is your oc's blood type?
𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐒. 🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often? 💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know. 💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits? 🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming? 🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons? 🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise? 🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?
𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄. 🌈 RAINBOW — what is your oc's sexual orientation/gender identity? what pronouns do they use? 🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday? 🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets? 🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends? 🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal? 🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature? 🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND — what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school? 🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening? 🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒. ❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits? 🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits? 💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits? 💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them? 🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends? 💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any? 💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside? 💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world? 💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background? 🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?
𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒. 🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs? 🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)? 🍰 SHORTCAKE — what is/are your oc's favorite sweet(s)/dessert(s)? 🍦 SOFT ICE CREAM — what is/are your oc's favorite ice cream flavor(s)? 🍔 HAMBURGER — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer? 🥯 BAGEL — what does your oc's typical breakfast look like? do they usually eat breakfast? 🥪 SANDWICH — what does your oc's typical lunch look like? do they usually eat lunch? 🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner? 🍸 COCKTAIL GLASS — what is your oc's favorite alcoholic drink, if they can drink? ☕️ HOT BEVERAGE — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?
𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄. 😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life? 😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved? 🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? 🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional? 🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy? 🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions? 😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool? 😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge? 😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone? 🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily? 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?
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sluttywoozi · 1 month
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The Hair Tie Test
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Jihoon didn't mean to classically condition you to get wet every time he puts his hair up, but he can't say he minds the result.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.5k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: implied consent, oral reader rec., somnophilia mention, fingering, jihoon is in love w u and ur pussy
Reader notes: uses hair ties, has breasts and a vagina, wap
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Jihoon first started keeping a hair tie on him when his hair was still short and the relationship was still new. 
He picked up the habit after noticing that you always have at least two, one for you and one for anyone else who might need one. One night about three months in, you gave both away to people you didn’t even know, and then later when you got warm, you had nothing to put your hair up with. 
So before Jihoon saw you next, he bought a pack of the brand he knew you liked and tried to get used to the feeling of the elastic around his wrist. It was tight and constricting at first, but soon enough, he grew accustomed to the sensation and stopped perceiving it at all. 
The next week when you gave both of them away again, he was prepared. He acted nonchalant as he brandished his wrist, but the joyful gasp and squeal you responded with had him biting back a grin the rest of the night. 
Now that he’s let his hair grow so long, he’s started keeping two hair ties on him as well, one for you, and one for him. 
There are a few reasons why he might tie his hair up in the day to day: he gets too hot, the wind blows it into his face, he needs it out of the way to work out. 
At night, there’s only one: he’s getting ready to eat your pussy till you cry. 
You laughed the first time he stopped to pull it back in the middle of his descent, but by now, you know exactly what it means when he reaches for that hair tie. 
He’s almost sure he accidentally conditioned you, because every single time he gets between your legs after putting his hair up, you’re wet. Even if you’re fresh out of the shower, or winding down in bed, or tired after a long day of work, you’re ready for him as soon as his hair is tied back. 
He wonders if that happens during the day too. When he answers your facetime call after a workout and you see his hair is up, do you get wet? What about when he picks you up from work on a hot day? Or when he took you on that picnic date last weekend and it was particularly windy? Did you want him then too?
Today, he’s decided to find out. 
You’re having a relaxed day at home, just lounging on the couch together and catching up on shows, so there’s no ostensible reason for him to tie his hair back.
Which is exactly why he does. 
He doesn’t say a word as he starts to gather it up in his hands, brushing the strands back with his fingertips and forming a pony before looping the hair tie around it one, two, three times. He can feel your gaze on him but he keeps his eyes on the TV and returns his hand to the leg you’re resting in his lap, rubbing soft circles around your ankle bone with his thumb. 
He sees you shake your head in his periphery as if to clear it, and lets the corner of his mouth turn up in a smirk on the side you can’t see. You’re restless for the next few minutes, checking your phone and wiggling your foot and tapping your fingers on your thigh, and he decides he’ll only make you suffer till the next commercial break before checking the results of his little test. 
As soon as an ad starts to air, he’s turning in place and tugging one of your legs to rest behind him, shifting to lay on his stomach between them and tucking his fingers in the waistband of your pajamas. You look at him with wide eyes but raise your hips when he starts to pull them down, bringing your knees up to your chest so he can take them all the way off. 
He gently pushes your legs apart, waiting for you to let them fall open the rest of the way, and feels a grin stretch his lips as soon as he sets eyes on the mess of your pussy.
You’re glistening with arousal already, so wet and so fucking pretty, and he’d laugh at the fact that he accidentally Pavlov’d you if he wasn’t already busy sucking open-mouthed kisses up your thigh. 
Usually, he’s desperate to get you on his tongue, but on a lazy day like this, he feels like he should take his time, work you up slowly, tip you over the edge gently. 
So he doesn’t rush as he licks a fat stripe up the center of your cunt, languidly dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit. He exhales a soft moan at the taste of you, lifting your left leg over his shoulder and wrapping his arm around it to reach your pussy. 
His fingers push your lips further apart so he can lap more directly at your clit, rubbing the tip of his tongue up and down before pursing his lips around the bud and sucking lightly. 
You let out a delicate sigh, one of your hands coasting down your body to pet his head, your nails scratching at his scalp and making him shiver. His other arm winds around your right leg, his hand resting on your stomach where you intertwine your fingers with his. 
Jihoon loves the quiet intimacy of moments like this, loves how you want to make him feel good when he’s doing the same for you, loves that you and him don’t need words anymore, not when you have tender hands and an unbreakable connection. 
He loves your pussy too, you’re so warm and soft and fragrant, and getting to put his mouth on you is one of a great many privileges in his life. Getting to make you cum is another, though he’s not in a rush to make that happen. 
It will, of course it will, but before that, he wants to savor you, treasure you, cherish you. 
Today, he’s about the journey, not the destination. 
You don’t seem to mind, thankfully, just laying back and letting him explore you like it’s his first time between your legs rather than his five hundredth. He’s meticulous in his study of you, his gaze traveling up your body to watch your face as his tongue glides through your folds. Your eyelashes flutter when he ever so slightly digs the tip under the hood of your clit, so he does it again before wrapping his lips around it and taking slow, deep pulls. 
That makes you gasp, makes your brows pinch together and your pretty eyes grow hazy, makes him want to abandon his plans and go faster, harder, make you cum now. But he can be patient, he will be patient, because he knows that his slow and steady perusal of you will be all the more rewarding when he finally guides you into your release. 
But if he keeps sucking your clit, that will happen before he’s ready. He moves down a bit, firming his tongue and pushing it into your entrance, groaning quietly at the heady essence that coats his taste buds. 
Jihoon loves to eat, that’s a fact everyone knows, but whenever they ask his favorite meal, he always has to lie. He’ll say steak or salmon or some kind of pasta, but if he could be honest, his answer would be your pussy. Not just pussy, but yours, specifically. 
There’s just something about the way you taste that sates his every craving, that has him thinking about it even when he shouldn’t be, that makes him want to enjoy you loudly, messily, voraciously. 
That’s how he usually is when he goes down on you, today being an outlier. 
It’s a welcome one, though, and perhaps long overdue, because he can tell how much you love it at this pace. You’ve got a dreamy look about you, and your thigh is so relaxed on his shoulder, he can feel it weighing him down. Then there’s your sounds, your sighs and hums and muted gasps telling him he’s doing something very right. 
It almost makes him want to put you to bed like this, eat you out so leisurely, you fall asleep with his head between your thighs and cum without even knowing it. He can wake you up the same way, pull you out of your dreams and push you straight into pleasure with just his tongue.  
Your pussy is luxury incarnate; beginning and ending the day with your taste in his mouth would be both a privilege and an honor. 
But then, this is too. The way you gave yourself over to him without even a word exchanged, let him get you naked and spread you out right here on the couch in the middle of the day. You’re not rushing him as he takes his sweet time relearning every inch of you, and oh, the time is sweet. 
Your pussy is sweet too, but not sweet like candy. It’s sweet like falling asleep in a patch of sunlight, like coming home after a long time away, like flowers blooming again once the frost of winter fades. 
He could live and die here, with his tongue inside of you and his nose buried in your folds. 
He’s sure he could subsist on just your pussy. Food isn’t a requirement when he has something he loves to eat even more, and your arousal wets his throat just like water does, flowing generously enough that he can drink you down and tasting so luscious that he won’t have need for anything else. 
You probably wouldn’t be opposed, you love his mouth on you as much as he loves to put it on you. He’s still obsessed with how responsive you are, even after almost two years together. 
You don’t hide a thing from him, always let him see and hear the way he makes you feel, unselfish with your noises, your reactions, and your desires. 
When your fingers tighten in his hair and you sigh out his name, he knows that means you want more, and he’s inclined to give it to you. Slow and steady wins the race and all that, but his aim is always to give you what you need, and if you need him to go faster, to go harder, he will. 
It helps that his hunger is beginning to overtake his patience. He was hoping to work you up softly, methodically, lead you into gentle waves of pleasure rather than the crashing tsunami you’re both used to, but he doesn’t have the fortitude to make you wait when he wants it just as bad as you. 
It turns out he can be disciplined in every area of his life except for eating your pussy, and maybe that should feel like a defeat. Instead, it just feels right, like he’s worshiped at your altar and now he gets to revel in your benediction.   
He shifts his greedy mouth back up to your swollen clit and starts to suck hard, his sights now set on making you cum all over his face. His bangs fall over his forehead into his eyes, obscuring his view of you, and you push them back for him, staring down at him with parted lips. 
You watch as he devours you until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, the falling of your lids telling him you’re starting to get close. You’re making the prettiest sounds, your little moans and whimpers going straight to his cock, which is already achingly hard for you. 
This isn’t about him though, so he ignores the throbbing and doubles his efforts, groaning into your clit when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling slightly at the roots. He’s got a sensitive scalp, not in an ‘ouch’ way but in a ‘moan when you play with his hair’ way, and that’s something you discovered very early on with how tactile and affectionate you are. 
You take advantage of this discovery often, but this isn’t one of those times, no, you’re just so close to the edge that you can’t control your hands anymore. The one holding his is squeezing his fingers, and he can’t help but think about how your pussy would do the same if he slid two inside. 
Having something filling you up makes your orgasms stronger anyway, so he decides to take back the hand holding your pussy open, giving your thigh a loving knead on his way to your cunt. He primes one finger at your entrance, and when you feel it, you sigh out a long, “Yes,” like it’s something you’ve been waiting for. 
You clench down as soon as he slips it inside, your walls fluttering as you grow closer and closer. He’s quick to sink in another, curling the tips up toward your belly and pressing them into your sweet spot. He doesn’t fuck them in and out, just rubs that ridged patch and sucks your clit until your back arches and your moans rise in volume. Your thigh starts to quiver on his shoulder and he knows you’re right there, that it’s only a matter of time before you-
“Jihoon,” you whine as your pussy contracts around his fingers in pulses, wetness seeping out around them as you tremble and buck into his mouth. He uses your combined grasp to hold you down so he can carry you through to the other side, his lips still suctioned around your clit, taking deep pulls to prolong your pleasure. He watches you the whole time, watches the bliss play out through your expressions, the look on your face combined with the feeling of your pussy swallowing around his fingers almost enough to make him cum too. 
You melt into the couch when it’s over, your face and your hands relaxing, a sleepy hum escaping you as you pet his head in thanks. 
“What was that for?” You ask drowsily, blinking your eyes open just as he pulls his fingers out and slides them into his mouth. He never wastes a drop when it comes to you, and that’s something you know well. 
Something he knows well is that you love tasting yourself on him, so before answering, he gently lifts your legs off his shoulders and rises up to press his lips to yours. 
“Do I need to have a reason?” He murmurs into your mouth, kissing you again so you don’t question him further. 
The test can stay his little secret for now, especially when he’s gathered so little evidence. 
He’ll have to try it out a few more times, just to be sure. 
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AN: fully inspired by this ask thank you anon ily
My Masterlist
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suhsweet · 11 days
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perv!mingyu ⟡ kmg
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wc: 731 | pair: perv!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: roommates au, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: mingyu is PERVERTED, panty stealing, dirty thoughts, mingyu spies on the reader
summary: when your roommate mingyu is a filthy, dirty pervert obsessed with you
authors note: maybe i'm a freak, but i literally thought that mingyu uploaded a pic of himself sniffing either socks or underwear. this is a really short drabble. wrote this in an hour. i might write more about perv!mingyu :) i told y'all that this blog is really self-indulgent...
Mingyu can’t remember exactly when his obsession with you began. One day, you were his roommate. The next, you were the star of all his fantasies. He’s had plenty of roommates before you, but you were different.
Maybe it's the fact that he knows what you sound like when you’re touching yourself. He knows you only do it when you’re the only one at home, where you can freely vocalize your pleasure without being embarrassed by anyone listening in. Except, that is exactly what Mingyu does.
If he tells you that he’ll be back from the gym by eight pm, he’s actually home at 7 and listening to you use your fingers to pleasure yourself. He tells you that he’s going to be at work until six, and comes home at five-fifty to hear the tail end of your orgasm.
Most of Mingyu’s nights are spent leaning against the wall your rooms share, pathetically fisting his swollen cock in his palms. His head would be pressed against the wall, his ears straining to find your moans. If he’s bold enough, he’s right outside your door with his dick out, where it’s significantly easier to hear you.
Right after you cum, he loudly opens and closes the front door to the apartment, hollering, “I’m home!”
He listens to you stumble around your room before you peek your head out. With your hair a mess, and eyes wide, Mingyu finds your flustered state so cute. He prevents a smug smirk from appearing when you innocently ask him how his day was.
He’s well aware that it would take only three strides of his long legs to reach your room. He’s also certain you didn’t have enough time to wipe your fingers clean of your essence. The idea that while you’re smiling innocently at him, behind the door your fingers are coated in your cum drives him insane. It takes everything in him not to burst into your room, take your hand in his, lick your fingers clean, and then make another mess of your pussy.
Mingyu’s perverted habits have been ongoing for several months. Mingyu was too far gone to feel any sense of guilt at this point. Not when you didn’t have to know. Not when he stole a pair of your panties from your laundry hamper while you were out with your friends.
He tries to use it sparingly to preserve your scent. He pulls it out on the occasions where he is so horny that his imagination cannot satiate his needs. It’s erotic, Mingyu thinks, that he’s using your panties while jerking himself off without your knowing.
He’s flat on his back, in the centre of his bed with the sheets pushed to his ankles. His room is plunged into darkness aside from the bedside lamp that illuminates his filthy act of perversion with a warm glow. He has his eyes closed whilst imagining the sight of you seated on his lips. He imagines his nose is buried in your delicious pussy, not the fabric of your underwear. His free hand grips his cock fiercely.
His mind presents him the image of you gripping his dark locks, your hips rotating as you grind into his mouth. His tongue is expertly drawing circles around your clit, the pressure of it so perfect that he brings to you an orgasm that is so shattering that you threaten to fall off of him. His arms would lock around your thighs like a vice. His eyes would look up at you, telling you everything that his occupied mouth can’t. His puppy eyes would be imploring, begging for more. His gaze would track your every movement, every rise and fall of your chest, every ‘o’ your mouth forms, every time your eyes clench shut when he sucks on your pussy.
And when you’re finished with his mouth, you’d come off of him, and clean up the mess you made by licking your release off of his lips. You two would make out as a result, messy and slick with saliva and cum.
While his imagination goes wild thanks to your used panties, Mingyu struggles to keep in the pitiful whine that threatens to leave his throat. He doesn’t want to wake you up. You’re obliviously sleeping on the other side of the wall, unaware that your pervert roommate is thinking such depraved thoughts about you.
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sugusearrings · 6 months
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( ' summertime sadness ' ) oh my god, i feel it in the air telephone wires above are sizzlin' like a snare honey, i'm on fire, i feel it everywhere nothing scares me anymore. kiss me hard before you go summertime sadness i just wanted you to know, that, baby, you the best.
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— summary: it's been a hard summer for suguru geto to adjust and deal with his emotions. while his best friend satoru gojo has been on a lot of solo missions lately, he's been spending a lot of time with you (fem!reader). — genre: smut ending with fluff — playing: summertime sadness by lana del rey — note(s): this is my first writing smut in a real long time. it won't be my last but i'm sorry if it wasn't spicy enough. i'm kind of rusty i sorry :( hints of virginity lost but not necessarily. — word count: 3k
— warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving ), missionary, doggy, mating press, cumshot, squirting, and finger sucking
Maybe it was the heat wave.
Maybe it was the curse he digested not too long ago.
But Suguru was throwing up more than he usually does.
His eyes closed tightly as he felt everything come rushing out of his mouth to pour into the toilet bowl. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach to puke, his body kept going.
But you were behind him holding onto his dark silky locks so they wouldn’t get in the way or inside of the murky water. Despite him being in the middle of throwing up his insides, he was embarrassed to do this in front of you.
“It’s okay, Sugu..” you reassured him like you knew what he was thinking of. You rubbed his back gently with your free hand. His eyes glanced over his shoulder to you, he saw the small smile on your lips. He looked over back to the toilet seeing everything he’s eaten today. Maybe even yesterday too.
When he was finished, you reached over to flush it down. You went to get him a bottle of water while he washed his face. His face was flushed and hot. His throat was aching along with his stomach feeling hollow.
After drying it away with the spare wash cloth you had just for him, he took his extra toothbrush you bought him. As he brushed his teeth his amethyst color hues stared back at him. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. His dark circles were so noticeable these days. He knew you must have noticed them too. But you didn’t say anything, you have some of your own if you didn’t cover yours with makeup.
Your dorm had the biggest windows and nobody knew exactly why. But it came handy when it was the summer. Winter not so much. Suguru sat on the windowsill with the window wide open. There was barely a breeze and when there was one, it was a warm one.
He had a cigarette in the middle of his lips. It was quiet today. Satoru must still be away on his mission. He wasn’t exactly sure where Shoko was. So that just left you and him. It’s been like that for the past few weeks.
He could hear your gentle voice singing softly as you showered. As much as you whined about the brutal cold, you hated the warm weather. You didn’t like to sweat. Suguru couldn’t blame you for that. The smoke slowly blew out of Suguru’s thin lips as he just zoned out.
“Shoko’s bad habit is rubbing off on you.”
His eyes averted to you once he heard your voice. You wore an oversized shirt (his shirt that went missing a week ago) with nothing but your nude panties underneath. When you stretched the shirt rode up exposing the fabric that barely covered your rear. He couldn’t help but to stare. The amount of time you two spent together comfortability was formed. There was times you would change clothes in front of him and he would do the same. You never caught him staring but that’s because he knew how not to get caught.
“You see a flaw in Shoko?” Suguru teased you then took another pull. You smiled to yourself, placing your dirty uniform in the hamper.
“Cigarettes don't have a better taste, y’know?” You reminded him. He knew you were concerned about his health. You were always concerned about him. Suguru was hard to read for others but when it came to you. It was like you saw what he was thinking like it was written on his forehead. Suguru swore you had some kind of unique curse technique but you just reassured him you’re very observant. He still doesn’t believe that till this day.
“You don’t know what those curses taste like.”
Suguru put out the cigarette then flicked it away. He took his bottle of water.
“True but I could tell they’re bitter.”
You sat down on the edge of your bed. Your hair was still damp from the shower reaching past your shoulders now. He noticed how fast it was growing. He also noticed the dark circles of your own now. It wasn’t as dark as his but close enough. You looked so much younger without the makeup. He didn’t mind either but you not wearing makeup might be his favorite.
“What gave you that clue?”
He tilted his head to the side with a sly smirk. You both chuckled at the same time. A comfortable silence came afterwards. The breeze was cool now thanks to your shower. You glanced down at your bare feet.
“So they don’t come in different flavors?”
“Why the sudden interest in this again?”
Suguru never really recalled you or anyone really asking him about the taste. You shrugged your shoulders crossing your legs over the other. His eyes sneaked down to look at your bare legs. He could tell without even touching them they were so smooth. He quickly looked back up at you before you noticed.
“I’m just asking, Sug. I just wish,” you let out a soft sigh, “I just wish I knew how to consume them so you wouldn’t have too.”
A light blush crept on Suguru’s cheeks.
“Name…even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.” He smiled. “But thank you.”
“Anytime.” You smiled back. You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. The heat started to slowly kick in. By the end of the night you knew you were going to take another shower.
“I bet your flavor is sweet.”
Suguru’s honey-like voice broke your thoughts. Your body shot up, feeling your eyes widened. Then you looked across to your friend who hasn’t moved from his spot. You blinked a few times before clearing your throat.
“H-huh?”
“You’ve been eating a lot of fruit lately. Especially cherries.” He told you nonchalantly with a shrug. You bit down on your bottom lip feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You thought about the times you would eat your cherries after training because you would get hungry. You didn’t want a big meal to sit in your stomach plus cherries were in season.
Suguru would watch you bite down into the dark red fruit being careful not to bite into the seed. You would suck the remains on the seed before you placed them back into your container not wanting to throw them onto the ground. Your lips would a faint red after eating them all.
“T-they’re my favorite.” You mumbled shyly shifting a bit in your seat now. Suguru chuckled lightly.
“Am I making you nervous, name?”
“N-No!” You quickly answered. He let out a laugh, you haven’t heard him laugh like that in weeks. You didn't realize how much you missed the sound of his beautiful laughter.
“You’re lying.”
“Am not.”
“You think you’re the only one who can be observant?” He countered. You part your lips but close them making a thin line. He smirked knowing he used your own words against you.
Sure Suguru would flirt with you but so would Satoru. It didn’t mean anything, right?
But Suguru didn’t speak to Shoko like that and Satoru was just a natural flirt. You slowly shook your head. Suguru stood up from the windowsill. “You’re right, name. Cigarettes don’t taste any better. But I don’t have anything to replace it”
He was walking towards you now. Your breathing picked up but couldn’t be heard. His cat-like eyes stared at you like you were his prey caught in the corner. “I am very convinced you can help me with that.” He stood in front of you. You bit down on your bottom lip.
“H-how can I do that?” You asked nervously. Suguru smiled at your curiosity.
“Easy,” he sat down next to you to move your hair behind your ear to lean close, “let me taste you.” he whispered in a husky tone. You stiffened up with your face completely flushed and it wasn’t because of the heat. You both just stared at each other for a few moments.
Maybe it was the heat wave or the curse he just ate
Or maybe he was tired of hiding these urges he had whenever you would come around.
The way your skirt would flow when you would run or jump to block attacks. The way you stared up at him with your doe eyes. The way you would brush against him so close he could smell your perfume you would spray on the side of your neck.
But Suguru needed to taste you.
Suguru was down on his knees in front of the edge of the bed. Your leg was draped on his shoulders. Your panties were already on the floor completely forgotten. His eyes were half closed not wanting to miss the pleasure on your face as his tongue swirled inside your gummy walls. His tongue would creep and twirl around your swollen clit. You did your best to keep your moans down, not wanting to be loud. But Suguru was making it so hard.
"F…uck…S-ugu…mmf!” You muffled underneath your hand to contain your volume. Your toes curled behind his shoulders. Suguru wasn’t shy to make any noise. You could hear his tongue moving against your wet core. Whenever you tried to squirm, he would use his hands that were placed on your thigh to give you a tight squeeze as a warning.
He pulled his mouth away and replaced them with his two forefingers. He dragged them slowly up and down your wet slit.
“Just like I said, sweet.” His sultry voice spoke to you. You looked down to meet his gaze. His lips glistened from your wetness and his saliva. He had a smirk. He saw you try to shy away breaking the eye contact you two were sharing. He found it so cute.
“Don’t act all shy now, pretty girl. We’re only getting started.” He slowly pushed his two fingers at once. You could feel the pressure of your wells stretching for his long thick fingers. “You’re so tight, baby.” He groaned, pressing his tongue back inside of you. He was always good at mulit-tasking.
Suguru felt himself feeling a natural high. Maybe it was the heat that spiked this feeling but he was sure it was your pussy. The leftover taste of the curse completely washed away by your juices overflowing his taste buds. Your clit was throbbing against his thumb. You started to feel your lower abdomen tightening now.
“S-Suguru! Please!” You cried out reaching down to grab some of his dark hair. He made loud slurping and sucking sounds. He moaned against you to give vibrations like a tease. He pushed your thighs open as wide as they can be. He glanced up then back down at your pretty puffy lips. He pumped his fingers in and out at a fast pace. Your legs began to fidget.
“Are you going to cum, my pretty girl?” He taunted you. You nodded your head feeling your hips move on their own against his fingers.
“S-so…so bad I-I wanna cum.”
“What’s stopping you?” he smiled.
That’s when you finally lost it and gave in. You loosened your lower body into the pressure. Suguru flattened his tongue feeling a gush of your juices coming down. He moaned how much it was and how sweet it tasted. He didn’t want to waste not one drop. Even on his fingers he sucked down on them. He turned to you laying on your back, trying to gain composure. Your lower body was exposed but you still had his shirt on. He felt the warm breeze brushed against the back of his neck.
He forgot about the window that was still open.
“Take it off.”
He told you as he went back to close the window then pulled the curtains. As much as he didn’t care, he didn’t want someone to see the way you make those cute faces when you receive pleasure. That’s for his eyes only. You slowly sat up feeling your legs stiff and weak. The room was dark now the curtain was closed. He looked over at you still with his shirt on. “You really don’t like to listen do you, hm?”
“I-I -”
He walked back over to you. He started to pull the bottom of the shirt over your body. Your arms automatically rose to help him remove the last bit of clothing you had left. It wasn’t too dark in your room. He could still see your breasts bounce back into place on your chest. He smiled.
“Such a pretty girl.” he purred. He removed his regular white shirt along with his loose joggers. You swallowed and moved to the middle of the bed. Your eyes gazed down at him slipping out of his boxers. He sprung free and you nearly choked. You couldn’t get over how he was just perfect everywhere.
His cock just thick and long. He had a few perfect veins, one vein going up to his tip that was already leaking of pre-cum. Suguru noticed you staring and chuckled lightly.
“We’ll make it fit, pretty girl. I promise.”
“H-how?” You blurted out leaning back on the few pillows you had on your bed.
“I have some kind of experience.” His larger frame hovered over you. You raised your bright brow.
“Oh?”
“Mhm.”
It shouldn’t have bothered you but it was more of a bit of this new found jealousy. This new feeling. Or maybe you always felt like this and just repressed it. Like that one time you overheard Suguru speaking with Mei Mei. Of course she was flirting with him but he also flirted back. You felt some kind of tightening in your chest. You gave him a whole silent treatment for the rest of the day. He was so clueless why you did. He did apologize.
Suguru could see your puzzled face. He leaned down to press his lips against your own. Your stupid thoughts were pushed to the side once the kiss began to heat up. His tongue claimed dominance you knew you couldn’t fight for. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues massaged against each other.
He aligned himself a bit since he was so much taller than you.
“There’ll be some discomfort.” He mumbled against your lips. You rolled your eyes as you pulled away to scoff.
“I’ve been stabbed and thrown out of a building how many times?”
“Not many because Satoru and I were always there to -”
“Suguru.” You cut him off with a glare. He laughed and gave you another kiss.
He dragged his tip up and down your slit. You let out a shaky breath already making a mess just with that alone. Suguru took note and smirked. “I didn’t even do anything and you’re already a wet mess, pretty girl.” He purred.
“S-shut up and fuck me…” you breathed out. He was amused how eager you were starting to become.
“Hmm…you could say it a lot nicer, name.”
“Suguru I swear I –”
He pushed his tip against you. You gasped then your doe eyes widened. You gazed up at him. He studied your face before pushing further. A strong pressure was being pressed against you. Suguru sucked in a harsh breath. “I need you to relax, name. Be a good girl for me.”
It was like his voice put you under a spell.
You nodded slowly and tried your best to ease your body. He kissed along your neck and shoulder. You felt his hair brushing against your heated cheek. You bit your lip trying to contain a moan from coming out. He nibbled down on your collar bone then began to suck down on it. After he was done he went to breasts and sucked down on your nipple. His tongue swirled around it slowly with his eyes staring up at you.
After a few moments, Suguru pushed the tip inside of you. Another shaky breath escaped your lips.
“You’re doing a good job, baby. Just like that…” he whispered into the crook of your neck. It didn’t take long till he was able to push more of his thick grith inside of your tight core. You felt a sharp discomfort like Suguru warned you. He stood still so your tight warms could adjust for his cock. “You’re okay baby?” You mumbled a mhm and gave him a nod.
This definitely wasn’t like being stabbed or thrown out of a building.
He strokes your cheek and admires your facial features. You were used to him staring at you but not too closely. You tried your best not to break eye contact. But even in the slight darkness, he could see how your cheeks darken. You look beautiful as ever to him.
“Y-you can move, Sugu…” you whispered.
“Are you sure?”
You nod. He gave you another kiss then he began to thrust his hips slowly. The slight discomfort came back but the pleasure started to mask over the pain. You began to pant heavily when Suguru picked up his pace. You were moaning and whining with the movement of your hips trying to follow his rhythm. The jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine.
Since the curtains were closed the room’s temperature began to rise. A light form of sweat formed on your forehead making your hair press against it. Suguru could feel a thin layer of sweat on his back.
“Mmm…fuck…this pussy is so good to me.” He moaned into your ear. His moan alone made you become a sloppier mess. He was able to push deeper inside of your gummy walls. Your walls expand for his cock hitting your spot over and over.
“Suguru…a-ahhh..”
He rolled his hips then began to pound into you. Your nails raked down his lower back then clung into your skin feeling your back being pressed into the mattress. The headboard was banging into the wall behind it. Thankfully you’re not next to anyone.
“Suguru!” You screamed out. Suguru smirked. Sure he didn’t want to get caught but hearing you yell his name out, he was willing to take the risk.
“Squeeze me, name. That’s it. Good girl. Your pretty pussy is hugging my cock so tight.”
“I-I…y-you…Sugu” You couldn’t even form a sentence being a rambling mess at this point. Cock drunk for the first time. Your vision was blurry with tears of pleasure but you could see Suguru’s beautiful face flushed. Your hand reached behind to hold onto the headboard. But he snatched it away and laced your fingers together.
“You’re mine, you hear me, name? All mine.” He breathed into your neck before he licked up your pulse. You nodded rapidly.
“A-all yours, Sugu…” you babbled, feeling his lips leave kisses on your chest down to your neck again. He loved to hear you become so vulnerable to him. "Forgot how to use your words, pretty girl? I thought you were a smart girl." He chuckled pushing your thighs to your chest and your legs against the headboard. You held your breath feeling him slide deeper you swore you could feel him in your guts. "Well look at that, you're completely stuff with me now." His eyes stared down watching your pussy engulfing him whole. He could see himself twitch inside of her. "S-Sugu...p-please..." you whined just aching for him. His eyes moved to your face. He smirked seeing how desperate you were for him. Your eyes barely open and cheeks darkening from the temperature of the room. He started to pound into you feeling every inch of him in this new position. "F-Fuck! Ngh!" You cried out not able to move with him pressing your thighs down on your chest with his board chest against your legs. He was heavily panting onto your face. He pressed his forehead against yours then leaned in for a kiss. It was a sloppy kiss but it made it easier for him to just go as deep as he wanted. You both could hear how wet you were with the loud sounds your pussy made with each time he pounded into you.
He suddenly pulled out of you completely.
You backed away from the kiss, confused and whiny.
“Suguru..” you whined out in the dark.
“Don’t be a brat now, princess,” he chuckled, then moved your body so you can be lying on your stomach, “I think you can handle me like this now, hm?”
His voice was so taunting and sexy at the same time. He could have made you do whatever he wanted. You nodded your head.
“Y-yes! Please just…need your cock back inside of me.”
Your hips moved eagerly. He reached over to grab a pillow and lifted your lower body to put your pillow underneath you.
“Arch your back…such a good girl. Look at you taking orders now.” He placed his hand on the fat of your ass. He lifted it up to see your swollen puffy folds, dripping to your inner thighs. He smiled admiring you. “I can’t believe you were hiding this from me. I’ll remember that for punishment later on.”
Your eyes widen and a faint blush crept on your cheeks.
“Geto…”
“Oh. You’re addressing me like that?”
He placed a smack on your ass cheek. You whined and buried your face back into the pillow, closing your eyes tightly. He squeezed and massaged the fat of your ass before he greeted your slit with his tongue again. Your lips part to let out a faint moan, moving your hips back to him.
Suguru removed his tongue to replace it with his cock. He pushed back into you hearing a small wince for you. He started to slam his hips into your ass. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him tighter than before. One hand tightened on your hip then the other was placed on the back of your neck and squeezed. Your face being pushed into the pillow.
“Fuuuuuck. Name, n-name….”
You nearly came just hearing the way he moaned your name. Suguru felt his cock throbbing. You were babbling, slight drool coming from the corner of your mouth. Tears from the corner of your eyes going down your flushed cheeks. You came for the third time before Suguru gave you one last harsh thrust and release his warm load into you.
Your heavy panting and breathing matched with his. He slowly pulled out watching his load leaking out of you now. He took two of his fingers and coated them with it. He brought them to your lips.
“Suck.”
You lazily leaned over to place your mouth over his fingers and do what you were told. When you finished, he moved your hair out of your face. He leaned down to kiss you and your shoulder over the marks he left.
He wondered how noticeable they were going to be. Suguru got up and went to get your wash cloth then came back to clean you up. After placing the washcloth in the hamper, he laid next to you in the stuffy room rubbing your back. You couldn’t keep your eyes open and went to sleep instantly. He chuckled, kissing your lips then got up to shower.
Suguru felt better after the cool shower he had. He placed your blanket over your naked body as you snored quietly. He grabbed his stolen shirt that was thrown onto the floor and put it on.
He walked over to the window to open the curtain half way. He was greeted by the cool breeze.
He sat on the windowsill and went to light another cigarette but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Hey! Name! Have you seen Suguru? He hasn’t been answering my calls or texts!” Satoru’s voice was heard behind the door as he kept knocking.
Suguru gazed over to you then got up to answer the door. He opened the door enough for him to see Suguru but not enough to see you. Satoru was surprised Suguru answered the door. His eyes were slightly larger but a grin formed on his lips.
“Speak of the devil himself.”
“Didn’t expect you back so soon, Satoru.” Suguru smiled back. Satoru scoffed at his best friend .
“Only the weak would struggle with that kind of mission. Speaking of, where’s name?”
Suguru made a mental note of how often Satoru would come to your room. Alone.
“She’s asleep. The heat made her a bit fatigued.” He answered. Satoru nodded.
“It is fucking hot today.” He began to unbutton a few buttons on his uniform shirt. That’s when his eyes lowered down to Suguru.
“Hey! Suguru, you found your shirt! Where was it?”
“Name stole it.”
Suguru smiled softly. A smile he hasn't had in weeks.
2K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 6 months
Text
Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]
In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.
Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!
TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death
[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]
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He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men. 
Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:
"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."
The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him. 
No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood. 
He has become a beast. 
And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose. 
That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle. 
"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."
You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle. 
"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin. 
"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink. 
The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary. 
Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.
Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating. 
The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room. 
Tonight shall be a feast.
The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe. 
His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.
You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...
No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be? 
The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution. 
The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears. 
There you are.
Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.
"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.
"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.
"You may check on her if you so desire, however..." 
He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached. 
"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."
You can only stare.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."
"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion. 
He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.
"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"
"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-" 
You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony. 
"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up. 
Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft. 
1K notes · View notes
celandeline · 3 months
Text
Not Your Boyfriend, Baby
Farleigh X Reader, SMUT - tw for cheating, reader both cheats and is cheated on
part two
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Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules. 
Always stand to his right, so that he can hand you whatever he’s holding without having to think about it. Let him pull you into his lap whenever he wants, even if you’d really rather just sit next to him - always sit next to him. Laugh at the jokes he makes, even if they aren’t funny. Help him with his coursework when he asks, pretend that you need help with things that you know he’s good at so he doesn’t feel stupid. Pretend that he can make you cum. Pretend you don’t know he’s cheating on you.
Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules - but the perks are worth it. 
The necklace he got you for your birthday costs more than your first car, and if you ever sell it, will easily cover rent for at least a year. Designer clothes have a habit of appearing in your dorm room unannounced, always in your size - just because Felix likes when you look good next to him. No clubs are too exclusive to get into, there’s always a booth in the back of the pub reserved for you, people bend over backwards just for the chance of being in Felix’s vicinity - so naturally they’ll do anything for you. 
You’re using him as much as he’s using you - it’s mutually beneficial. You get to live within his innermost circle, he gets to have someone to bring home to his parents so they don’t start looking into arranged marriages after graduation. You have no intentions of actually marrying him, god no - you’ve heard him talk about how many kids he wants, there’s no way in hell you’re pushing out six - but you’ll take what you can get. Felix is a comfortable rung on the social ladder you’re trying to climb. 
“Right, love?” 
Felix’s voice drags you out of your thoughts and back into reality - the warm lighting of the pub casts everyone around your table in a warm golden glow. You’re pressed against Felix’s right side - always his right side - his arm perched on the back of the booth around your shoulders, casually possessive. It’s a little funny how possessive he is, considering how often he cheats on you. On his other side, Annabel nurses a pint, her overlined eyes locked on Felix, utterly enraptured. 
Across the table, India looks at him with the same hunger, even though her head rests on Farleigh’s shoulder. Farleigh looks how you feel - utterly bored, his eyes wandering the room as he idly smokes a cigarette. He’s always been prettier than Felix. More interesting too. If you weren’t trying to climb the social ladder high enough to marry rich and not have to work a day in your life, he’d be who you’re pressed against instead of Felix. There’s something about him that’s always given you the sense that he sees right through you, but it’s exciting. You know he knows why you’re here next to Felix, with a diamond he bought you around your neck. But Felix has no idea - he thinks you’re in love with him. 
It’s laughable, how in his own head he is. 
Still, you feed into the delusion, that practiced sugary-sweet smile playing at your lips as you look up at him. “Mhm.” You hum, picking up your pint and sipping at it. 
Felix grins wide, and turns back to Annabel. “See?”
Annabel rolls her eyes, leaning around Felix to pin a look at you. “You weren’t even paying attention.”
The animosity that every other girl within a fifty mile radius directs at you is the one drawback of being Felix’s main piece. Your smile turns a little sharper. “Yeah.” You admit easily, setting your pint back down. “But I know Felix enough to know that he was probably right.”
Across the table, Farleigh snorts. 
Your eyes slide over to him, and he meets your glance. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head, a dry smile playing at his lips - a silent, really?
You tilt your head in the same direction, mocking - yes, really.
Felix turns back to Annabel. “I’m always right, Anna - best get used to it.”
She rolls her eyes again, but this time it’s playful - flirty, even. You can already see how the rest of tonight is going to play out - Felix will make some excuse about drinking too much or not feeling well or whatever else his idiotic brain can come up with, and disappear back to his dorm room to fuck her. Tomorrow, of course, you’ll act like you’re none the wiser. In two weeks time, when the guilt starts to get at him, a new pair of heels or a Dior skirt will find its way into your closet. 
Simply the way of things. 
Pulling away from Felix’s hold, you make to get up. He glances at you, concerned, but you only smile, and kiss him on the cheek so that you can slide out of the booth. “Gotta use the loo.”
You brush your hands down your skirt as you stand up, and start towards the back of the pub, where the bathrooms are, tossing a look over your shoulder back at the table. You catch Farleigh’s eye, and hold it for a moment. His lips curl upward around his cigarette. With Felix likely going home with Annabel, your schedule for the night just opened up…
Maybe tonight’s the night you do something - someone - just for yourself. Set your plans for the future aside for once, and just have fun. After all, you’re confident Felix will be none the wiser - you know exactly what not to do after watching him fumble around with any and every other girl that’s caught his eye. 
You disappear into the bathroom, Farleigh’s gaze still on you. 
The noise from the pub is quieter here, just a dull hum seeping in through the walls. You lock the door behind you, and inspect yourself in the mirror. You smudge the dark eyeshadow around your eyes a little more, and fluff up your hair so that it doesn’t sit so lifelessly against your head. Your sex appeal back in place, you splash some water on your hands and pat them against your skirt before you leave, stepping back out into the pub. 
As expected, Farleigh is waiting for you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, finishing off his cigarette. A quick glance back at the table lets you know that you were right - Annabel and Felix are gone. India’s moved onto Jack now, laughing a little too loud at something he says. 
“Felix said he wasn’t feeling well, all of a sudden.” Farleigh drawls, bringing your attention back to him. “Annabel’s walking him home.” There’s a touch of humor in his voice that you appreciate - he knows just as well as you do what they’re off to do.
“Shame.” You say, not bothering to try and sound actually sad at all. It wouldn’t fool Farleigh anyway. “Got tired of India?” You snatch the last of his cigarette from his fingers, finishing it off in one drag and dropping the butt to the floor, stamping it out with my boot. 
Farleigh watches you, his eyes half-lidded. “Is there such a thing as not being tired of India?”
“She’s not all bad.” You say. 
He tilts his head, that wry smile coming back to his face. “She’s not trying to fuck you.”
You can’t help but grin at that. “Touche.” You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of India’s flirting - but if Farleigh’s boredom is anything to judge by, she must not be very good at it. 
Silence falls between us, and you let yourself look at him, eyes tracing down the lines of his neck until you reach the hollow at the base, and then back up to his lips.
“So.” Farleigh says. 
You meet his eyes again. “So.”
He grins, foxlike and charming. “You wanna get out of here?”
The walk back to campus is short, but it feels longer with how much you talk about with Farleigh - school and America and family and money and Felix and a million other, less important, things. It’s the most intellectually stimulating conversation you’ve had in a long time, and the most you’ve genuinely laughed in a while too. It’s everything you’ve been missing with Felix - and it makes the war between your want for fortune and fame in the future and your want for genuine connection rage all the more. 
It comes to an end all too quickly for your liking, as you reach the steps to your dorm. 
You slow to a stop, and Farleigh stops as well, looking down at you, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Does it ever bother you?” He asks.
“What?” You reply. 
“That he cheats on you.” Farleigh clarifies. 
It’s a complicated question to answer, so instead you turn it around on him instead. “Does it ever bother you that he’s fucked India?”
Farleigh rolls his eyes. “That’s-”
“He does it to literally everyone.” You press on. “I stopped caring a while ago.”
Something contemplative washes over his face, and he just looks at you for a moment, eyes searching yours for something. His next question is quieter. “Who would you pick, if you weren’t stuck with him?”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not stuck with him.”
Farleigh looks at you, obviously amused. “I can see you trying not to roll your eyes every time he opens his mouth.”
You shrug. “The pros outweigh the cons.”
“So cynical.” He taunts, stepping closer. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I think it’s fairly obvious who I would pick if I wasn’t with Felix.” You say, letting him back you up the steps until your back is against the door. You look up at him, and meet his eyes. 
He grins. “Yeah, but I want you to say it.”
“It’s you.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “Like it would be anyone else-”
He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, a moan leaving him as you deepen the kiss without waiting, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and vodka and it’s made all the more delicious by the little noises that keep working up his throat, elicited when you grab him by the belt and pull him closer so that you’re chest to chest. He groans when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip and pull away, tugging him with you by the mouth. When you release him, he still follows after you anyway, chasing you for more. 
Fingers still dancing on his belt, you smile. “Come up to my dorm with me?”
“Yes, fuck, please.” He already sounds debauched, and it sends a spike of heat straight down to your core. Felix would never deign himself to beg. 
You push open the door to the dorm building, and start up the stairs, Farleigh trailing only a half step behind you. You fumble with your keys once you reach the door to your room, and Farleigh latches onto the back of your neck, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin that send a shiver up your spine.
Once you get the door open, you drag him inside and kick it back shut, locking it behind you. 
Farleigh’s back on you in an instant, mouthing under your jaw. You wind a hand into his curls, pulling his head back from your neck. “Don’t leave any marks or Felix-”
He rolls his eyes, and cuts you off. “Duh.”
Without any more preamble he dives back into your neck, kissing along the length of it until he makes his way back up to your lips. You meet him in a kiss greedily, pushing off the door behind you and walking him back towards your bed. He hits the bedframe and breaks the kiss to sit on the edge. With a grin, you’re climbing into his lap and gently pushing him down until his backs flat against the mattress. 
He’s so pretty like this - curls splayed out across your duvet cover, hands gripping onto your hips like you’ll float away if he lets go. You run a hand under his shirt, rucking it up so that you can see the way his stomach flexes when you touch him. Slowly, you dip your head down to lick a trail up his abdomen, never breaking eye contact. 
He tips his head back with a shaky groan. “Oh, fuck.”
You grin, shifting forward so that you can nose under his jaw, lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. “What about you? Will India get mad if I-”
“Don’t fucking care, I want you to do it anyway.” He says, a little breathless. He’s so responsive - every little groan and whine shoots heat straight to your core. If sex with Felix was like this, maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with him. 
You sink your teeth into his neck just below his ear and he keens, his hips knocking up into yours. His fingers dig into your hips, bunching the fabric of your skirt into his fists like he’s holding on for dear life. You take the opportunity to start the slow roll of your hips as you work a chain of hickeys across his neck, scattering them artfully around his collarbone. 
Deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your spine until you get the message and pull it off yourself, flinging it somewhere in your room. Farleigh wiggles out of his own shirt underneath you, pushing the offending garment off the edge of the bed. Freed of your shirt, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra as well, tossing it in the same direction. 
Farleigh’s eyes fall to your tits immediately, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate. “I see why Felix keeps you around-”
“Shut the fuck up.” You say with a smile. Even when you have him in your bed, he’s the same old Farleigh. It’s a breath of fresh air after having to pretend you like when Felix calls himself ‘daddy’. 
Your skirt is next, and then the tights you’d had on underneath it as Farleigh works on his trousers, kicking them off the end of the bed. Only your underwear left, you resume grinding against him, watching as his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he uses his grip on your hips to work you over him harder. 
“How do you want me?” You ask, leaning down to press more kisses along the length of his neck. 
You expect him to respond - to tell you to turn over on all fours or ride him reverse cowgirl - but he only sighs in the back of his throat. “Whatever you like, baby.” 
You press your lips to his in another greedy kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the moans that slip past his lips. He’s not making it easy to think about going back to Felix after this. Felix, who calls himself ‘daddy’ and manhandles you around however he likes and hasn’t made you cum a single time. You can feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your underwear from how malleable Farleigh is underneath you - how he looks at you like he’d gladly do anything you ask him to. 
You slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and shuck them down his legs. Your own underwear are next, and then you’re grinding on him again, spreading your wetness up and down his length. 
Farleigh’s grip tightens, and he tips his head back again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he moans. “Mm.” He picks his head back up enough so that he can look at you. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to go down on you but - mm - I don’t think you need it- oh fuck!”
Rising up on your knees, you line him up and slide down him in one drop of your hips, lodging him inside of you. He’s longer than Felix is, but skinnier too so the stretch doesn’t sting as much. God, it’s like he was made for you, with how easily he reaches right where you need him to without even trying. You start to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage and tossing your head back, losing yourself in the feeling. 
Farleigh whines, a high pitched breathy thing that sounds like it’s been forced out of him as you start to move. Gently, you pry his hands away from your hips and pin them down over his head, just because he lets you do it. It’s a rush - that he’ll let you do whatever you want and take it happily - and it goes to your head. He strains against your grip but you don’t let up, working yourself up and down his cock just to watch his eyes roll up into his head. 
“What- ahh, what are you doing?” Farleigh chokes out, straining against your grip again. 
“Whatever I want.” You croon, whispering against his lips. 
He snags you in a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth hungrily as he plants his feet on the mattress, thrusting so that his hips meet yours on every downstroke. A sharp gasp forces its way out of your throat as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten, and you can’t help but smile at him. It’s almost a novelty, the way he works with you instead of against you like Felix often does. 
He grins back up at you, and tilts his chin upward to kiss you again. Breathy, he says, “Felix is an idiot.”
You choke on a moan as a particularly hard thrust jolts through you. “Why’s that?”
“He doesn’t know what he has.” Farleigh says. “I’ve fucked India and - fuck - Annabel and they’ve got nothing on you.”
You laugh and moan at the same time. “You don’t have to - mm - be nice just so I’ll let you cum in me.”
“I can be nice.” He breathes. 
You ghost your lips over his neck. “You’re never nice.”
“I can be nice.” He insists, turning his head so that you can litter kisses along the length of his neck. You trail upwards until you reach the lobe of his ear, biting gently at the skin. “To you.”
“Careful.” You say. “Better stop now or I might think you’re in love with me or something-”
Farleigh tenses up beneath you, as a long groan escapes from his lips as he throws his head back. He thrusts three more times before he stills, slumping back down to the mattress, panting hard. His eyes flutter open, blown wide as he looks up at you. 
You can feel a smirk playing on your lips. “Did you just cum?”
He has the decency to look a little ashamed. “Maybe.”
You laugh, and kiss him. “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”
“I’m good.” He insists, working his wrists free of your hold. “I can still- here, just-”
He pulls you to his chest and rolls on the mattress so that you’re underneath him now, and resumes fucking into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. The change in position makes the feeling all the more potent, and a moan slips out from your lips. 
Winding your arms around his shoulders, you rake your nails up his back, and feel him shiver against you. “Farleigh…”
“Don’t fucking do that.” He laughs. “I’ll cum again.”
You toss your head back against the pillow as he speeds up his thrusts, obviously trying to get you to cum before he’s too spent to keep going. You let your eyes flutter shut and enjoy the feeling of him against you, the tickle of his curls against your neck, the breathy moans that slip from his lips into your ear, the feeling of his teeth against your neck as he sucks a hickey into your skin-
“Farleigh-” You start, only to cut yourself off as the coil finally snaps and pleasure shoots through you. “Oh fuck-”
He groans, and shoves his face deeper into your neck as his thrusts slow to a stop. He slumps again, flopping on top of you with a long sigh.
When you come back to your senses, you tug on his hair until he grumbles. “You are such a dick.” You say. “I said no marks.”
“Sorry.” He mumbles into your skin. 
“No you’re fucking not.” You retort. 
He lifts his head out of your neck, that foxlike grin on his face again. “No I’m not.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” You ask. 
He pulls out, and flops back down on the bed next to you, nosing back into the crook of your neck as he slings an arm over your chest. “Makeup. Wear your hair down.” He shrugs. “It’s Felix - he’ll probably think he did it.”
You rest your chin on the top of his head, the aftershocks of pleasure running through you. “‘M never having sex with you again.”
Farleigh snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
You smile into his hair, because he’s right. Of course he’s right. There’s no way in hell this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence. 
838 notes · View notes
atlasofthestaars · 7 months
Text
heart to heart
summary: 
“The touching of foreheads—this is an ancient greeting. that honors the heart and soul of another human.” 
you and your lover have a tender moment.
includes: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, and Cassie Cage
note: something different ig?? just wanted to do something indulgent and wanted to dabble in drabbles. (these ended up being longer bc. pressure.) I also wanted to take this time to practice writing some sweeter stuff for the love interests of New Era + Cassie bc my friend likes her. idk if people want more I can probs do other charas too.
LIU KANG
A content sigh left your lips as you pressed your forehead forward to meet Liu Kang’s. Your eyes fluttered closed. His hands, which now no longer had their wraps, gently cupped your cheeks. His hands were always warm, and they helped keep away the chill of the night. A thumb gently rubbed small circles, a habit of his that you always found oh so endearing. You couldn’t help but to melt into his hands.
This was perfect. There was nothing more you could long for in this world. Though, you knew if you wanted anything Liu Kang would be there to fulfill your wishes. Anything was worth the smile on your face.
In the day, Liu Kang was often busy with his duties. Being the protector of Earthrealm came with many responsibilities, and the both of you knew that. Oftentimes, you would go long stretches within the day without seeing a hint of your lover. It was simply something you had to accept being Liu Kang’s lover. However, that did not mean he neglected you. Not at all.
At the end of the day, when the sun gave way to the moon and let it shine upon the world, Liu Kang returned. Night time was always the time he set aside for just the both of you. It soon became your favorite time of day just because it meant he would be there, right at your side.
“You look so perfect.” Liu Kang whispered. His voice carried reverence within it, as if you were the god who had crafted the universe with utmost care and love. You opened your eyes, and for a moment, you were left breathless. No matter how much time passed, he always looked at you as if you were the pinnacle of perfection.
Any sort of response you had was stuck in your throat. You could never tire of staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. You often asked if he had given himself the ability to hypnotize others with his gaze. He told you every time that no, he did not. But if he didn’t, why were you so entranced by them every single time you dared to look at them?
You wished you could put into words how much you loved this man. From the way he looked with his silky long hair that you loved to play and run your hands through, to the way he was so kind and loving. You often wondered and asked how you were lucky to be the partner of such a god, to which he always told you that he was the lucky one.
“I am thankful you wait for me every night.” The god murmured, his voice so full of love and genuine thankfulness. He removed his forehead, and you mourned the loss of contact before he pressed a featherlight kiss to yours. Then, he returned his forehead back to yours, and everything was as it should be. “I wish I could spend every minute by your side, my love.” 
You wished so too, but every night was just enough for you.
KUNG LAO
Your forehead bumped into Kung Lao’s a bit clumsily. There was far too much energy and excitement buzzing in both of your veins to prevent that little stumble. It didn’t matter either way to you, you were just happy to be in his arms. He was equally happy to hold you, and you could tell by the way his arms squeezed around you. 
You always felt happiest in his arms, honestly. There was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be than right here.
“Did you see that!?” Kung Lao asked, his eyes wide as they searched your face. While Kung Lao always sought out approval and compliments, there was nothing better than the ones he received from you. It just made him feel like he was on top of the world. To his delight, he saw the way you nodded accompanied with a wide happy grin on your face. The grins he got from you were perhaps the best type of approval he could ever get from you.
A laugh left your lips as he squeezed his arms tighter around you in delight. Every embrace from him felt like it was full of the love he felt for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His nose nuzzled against yours, and more laughter spilt from your lips. You couldn’t help it, he knew just how to make you happy. Your face heat up from how nearly overwhelmed you were from his affection, the love nearly overflowing from your heart.
“You’re always so cute when you blush.” Kung Lao teased, a hand rising up to pinch at your cheek affectionately. His eyes glinted with mischief and glee, but most of all, love. He adored the way he could make you blush and how your heart would race. It meant that you felt exactly the same way whenever he would just look at you sometimes.
You leaned back, a wide grin on your face as you swatted away his hand in a playful manner. Rolling his eyes, he instead cupped your cheek. Before you could protest in any sort of way about his earlier comment, you were attacked with a flurry of kisses all over your face. 
“Sorry, you’re too adorable. I couldn’t resist.” Kung Lao apologized, but you both knew he would pepper your face with his kisses again and again the next chance he got. His grin was the perfect mixture of smug and gleeful. And his dimples were the perfect icing on the cake. You raised a hand up to cup his cheek and traced his dimples with his thumb.
“A fan?” Kung Lao inquired, eyebrows raising up in a teasing manner. His ego seemed to only get bigger and bigger with every adoring look you gave him, but you didn’t care. A laugh left his lips again as he pressed his forehead back to yours. It was a little too much force again, but the both of you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together and basking in each other’s mutual affection.
You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.
RAIDEN
Your forehead pressed against Raiden’s gently as the two of you lay underneath a sea of stars. You two had decided to stargaze since it was such a pretty sight outside. The sky was clear and the moon was full, and yet there was nothing you wanted to look more at than the man beside you. How could you not?
Your eyes searched your lover’s face, admiring how the moonlight fell just perfectly on his face. How could a man look so amazing as the one in front of you? Perhaps you’d have to thank Liu Kang sometime for blessing you with the image of perfection. While being so in awe of the champion’s beauty, you nearly missed the comment he made.
“You look amazing.” He spoke, his voice filled with so much affection for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait you adored so much, even if was sometimes a flaw of his. A soft smile appeared on his face, the very same one that made you fall a bit more in love with him every single time. You couldn’t help but grin just a bit wider at the sight. 
You should be the one telling him that, in all honesty. The proper words to express your love for him were lost though. How could someone express such adoration and love? You thought there weren’t nearly enough words in all of the realms to tell him how much you truly admired him. 
His hand moved carefully towards your face, as if moving too fast would break the peaceful atmosphere. He was always so thoughtful about such things, especially so when it had to do with you. Then finally, after far too long, it settled on your cheek where it should be.
His thumb moved slowly across your face before it landed on your lips. It rubbed across your bottom lip leisurely. His gaze drifted away from your lips as he returned his thumb to rest on your cheek once more. Now they settled on looking into yours, and you wondered to yourself just how lucky you were to have such a man by your side.
“You are more lovely of a sight than all of the stars combined.” Raiden said, his voice filled with such sincerity it made your heart skip a beat. Then again, he was sincere in all things he said. It didn’t make you swoon over him any less. “I’m so lucky.” He confessed, humble as ever. You sighed at his little comment, withdrawing from his forehead to press a soft kiss on the tip of his nose for a moment.
You watched with silent admiration as color rose to his cheeks, blossoming in a soft reddish pink. Then, it spread across his face like a watercolor painting. If only you could save this view forever. You grinned at the sight, your heart swelling with joy. You couldn’t help but kiss him again, overwhelmed by the love you felt for the man in front of you.
What a sight.
JOHNNY CAGE
Your forehead pressed against Johnny Cage’s, and it felt like you were in a movie. Maybe you’ve been watching too many of his movies lately, but you couldn’t help it. You loved supporting him and his passions. The pride he had on being on screen was nearly palpable every time you watched one of his films. 
The feeling of being in a movie wasn’t helped with the way your lover was acting.
I mean…the way he was looking at you was pretty much the perfect shot for a movie. Your cheeks warmed up, and you were certain Johnny was bound to notice. Even if he wasn’t looking at your cheeks, his hands were sure to feel how the skin beneath them heated up. Your eyebrows rose up, looking at him a bit confused.
“What? Can’t I look at you?” Johnny inquired, sending you a smile. It wasn’t quite the practiced, perfect smile he sent his fans. No, it was the smile he always sent you. It was a little less perfect, but it was a little more real…a bit more genuine. Best of all, it was just for you. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little at the sight. 
By the gods your lover was so pretty. And he sure knew it, but how could you blame him? Looks like that were meant to be shown off. Even still, you were thankful for the small private moments like these were you were allowed to see the parts of him no one else could. It just reminded you of how fortunate you were to be with this man.
Little did you know how much he adored you right back.
You rolled your eyes at his comment, but in a light, playful manner. No, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look at you. It just…mystified you why he looked at you like that. Like you were the most valuable thing he had. It felt almost impossible, after he once owned Sento, which he always went on and on about how he spent three million dollars on that. And that wasn’t counting the other countless possessions he had when he was at the peak of his richness.
And yet, despite your reservations on how much you deserved to be looked at like that, the admiration in his eyes made you reconsider. Johnny was always good at convincing you, he just had a way with words. Or sometimes his charisma was enough, much like in this case. His thumb brushed your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. 
“Thanks for being my number one fan.” He murmured, pulling back to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. He let out a small laugh, the one that made you feel like you were on top of the world. “I hope you know I’m also your number one fan too.” The actor reminded you, his eyebrows raising to punctuate his point.
You knew that you both were each other’s biggest supporters, and that type of loyalty was priceless.
KENSHI TAKAHASHI
You made sure to place your forehead against Kenshi’s softly, trying to be gentle. You smiled at him, even though he could not see it. This was one of the rare few times Kenshi did not have Sento around, letting himself be the most vulnerable. And those times were always with you. He trusted you with his life, so this step wasn’t too farfetched.
“I wish I could see you.” Kenshi murmured his voice mournful. His hands reached up to cup your face. He knew he could always see you with Sento. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you with his own eyes. The swordsman wanted to see you, and your radiant smile in full color. He was grateful for what he gained after his loss, but sometimes he longed for sight just for you.
He supposed he would have to make do with what he could do instead. 
Guiding his hands, you settled them on your face and closed your eyes. It was in these rare few moments that you two had a tradition. You were used to this and almost anticipated this every time he set Sento aside and sat down with you alone. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, as if marking out his starting place. Then, he finally began to move his hands. It was slow and deliberate, taking time to memorize every detail of your skin. Every winkle, bump, and mark, he wanted to remember it all. 
First his hands moved slightly up. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your ears, refreshing his memory of how they looked by touch alone. Then, it moved higher, noting your hairline with his thumbs. His fingers brushed across your forehead, his thumbs tracing around where your foreheads connected together.
As his fingers reached your closed eyes, they lingered there. No envy coursed through Kenshi’s veins. Instead, only gratefulness swelled throughout the swordsman. He was thankful that you did not also go through the pain of losing your eyes in such a painful way. Leaning forward, he kissed your eyelids with utmost care.
“I want to protect you.” Kenshi whispered, pulling back to reconnect your foreheads. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing that he meant it from the bottom of his heart. His fingers continued to make their way down, tracing your nose before they stopped once again at your lips.
His fingers mapped out the curve of your lips, especially noting the way they curled up to form your fantastic smile. He took a deep breath in, admiring just how soft your lips were underneath his fingertips. By the gods, he could never get over how nice your lips feel. A smile appeared on his own lips as he felt your smile grow.
He always loved your smile. Whether it be seen through Sento or felt through his own hands it warmed his heart. He would do anything to keep it, and you, safe. 
And he knew, having you there in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your smile, you would do the same for him.
SYZOTH
Sleepily, you pressed your forehead against Syzoth’s own forehead. Blearily, you opened your eyes to look at the man who slept beside you. He still looked half asleep as well. You looked him over, admiring the sight of the sleepy Zatteran. It was a sight that only you had the privilege to see. A smile appeared on your face as you raised a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbed circles to slowly coax him awake. 
Looking over the shoulder of your lover, you noted the sunlight streaming in from behind the parted curtains. It hit Syzoth just perfectly, making him look like he was glowing. For a moment, you wondered if your lover was an angel instead of a Zatteran. You certainly felt blessed enough to have him to believe it. Then, you heard the familiar reptilian grumbles emanate from his chest as his forehead rubbed gently against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
Maybe he was both, you thought.
“Let’s just lie here for a bit more.” Syzoth mumbled, his voice laden with sleep. The arms around your waist were squeezing you tightly now, preventing any hope of climbing out of bed to start your day. It was as if you were a stuffed animal for him. You let out a small drowsy laugh, your fingers now pinching his cheek. As much as you adored sleepy mornings with your Zatteran lover, you knew that he had a very important job as the Empress’ emissary. Both of you had responsibilities to get to.
Syzoth simply huffed in response, not even responding with words to your attempt to wake him up. His hand reached up to grab yours. He pulled your hand off of his cheek and instead intertwined it with yours. The simple gesture made your heart melt. You could practically feel him basking in the warmth that you naturally radiated. You sighed as you opened your eyes a bit more, squeezing his hand in an attempt to pull him from dreamland.
“I promise I will get up soon.” Syzoth told you, his eyes now more open. It was almost as if he were awake the entire time, but he just was seeking an excuse to spend more time with you. Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. You had a small idea of what the truth actually was.
You stared up into his stunning green eyes, the sight of them alone almost took your breath away. Combined with the gentle way he spoke, along with the way he looked at you, you easily believed him. Then again, you supposed you would believe anything he told you as long as he looked at you that way.
He could tell you that the sun was gone when it was high into the sky, or that the world was going to end within days and you’d believe him. How could you not when he looked at you that way? You sighed with fake reluctance as you relaxed in his embrace.
Okay, maybe you can sleep in a little longer.
KUAI LIANG
Your forehead settled against Kuai Liang and you enjoyed the warmth you felt from the contact. A smile rose to your lips. How lucky you were to be with a man who knew how to control fire. Equally warm hands reached up to cup your face in a gentle, affectionate way. A bit selfishly, you inched closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Your arms wrapped around him, trying your best to pull him as close as you could towards you. He seemed to notice, his hands pulling you just a tiny bit closer towards him as well.
Your heart fluttered at the gesture. Your lover always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you said nothing.
It was a cold, cold night. The chill of the night crept into your bones, and only the warmth of your lover seemed to abate it. You relaxed and closed your eyes, basking in the way he was naturally warm. It was always a comforting warmth, never the stifling kind that made you fidget. You always swore that you could fall asleep comfortably as long as Kuai Liang was there to warm you to lull you to bed. 
Sleeping was something the both of you should be doing, and yet you were instead. You were basking in the comfort of being in each other’s arms.
With the mastery of a man who has been training in discipline all of his life, he heated up his hands carefully. It was almost symbolic. The way he held you so carefully was almost like he was cradling a small flame. Kuai Liang made sure to make it hot enough that you would no longer feel the chill of the night air, but not hot enough to make you uncomfortable, not to even mention hurt you.
The last thing he would want to do is hurt you. You were his everything.
His eyes, those dark brown eyes you loved to look so deeply at, stared at your face. While he normally loved to watch you, after all you were his favorite thing to look at, he now watched you carefully to gauge your reaction. He sought out to see any signs of discomfort or pain. He had to make sure you were feeling as comfortable as possible. After all, you deserve nothing less than the best.
“Is this better, love?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice quiet amidst the silence. There were not many things the man craved. It was a thing he prided himself on, how he was considerably humble, but he couldn’t deny how he longed for your approval. Even in the small things. A breath of relief was released from his chest as he watched you slowly nod yes. “Good.”
It was only then that Kuai Liang allowed a rare smile to appear on his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but to internally swoon over the sight. How could you not? It was so precious and rare. You stared at his smile, trying to sear the image into your mind permanently.
Maybe instead of using his powers he should have just smiled instead. It made you feel warm enough.
BI-HAN
You pressed your forehead against Bi-Han’s, his hands drawing you closer to him. It was quiet in his room, even the quiet breaths between you two seemed almost too loud for the peace. And yet you did not complain. How could you? You were having a private moment with the man everyone swore was made of ice. 
“Stay with me.” The man murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. You smiled at his demand, although it was more appropriate to call it a plea. You nodded, not wanting to break the moment of vulnerability you were bestowed. Your hands reached up to cup his face, matching the way he was holding you. He took a deep breath in, as if the next word was a heavy burden. “Please.”
His hands held you in such a specific way. It was careful and loving, but it was in such a way that felt like he was hiding you away from the world. It was not in the way that appeared that he was ashamed, not at all. If anything, Bi-Han was proud to be yours. No, the way he held you was so…private. 
It was as if he were shielding the two of you from nonexistent prying eyes. This was a moment to be shared between the two of you, not anyone else. Not even the world itself was allowed to intrude in such a special and sacred moment. Now that was the way Bi-Han held you.
He held you like a treasure he wanted to keep all to himself.
Gone from his face was the usual stern look he wore. Instead it was replaced with a slightly vulnerable softer look. His eyebrows were not furrowed, instead lifted slightly. His eyes felt warm and full of silent admiration for no one else but you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all too lucky to be blessed with such a sight.
His hands, which were normally frosted over, were merely cool to the touch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead the gentle touch with the coolness made your heart flutter. His thumbs traced patterns on your cheeks, as if creating his own little snowflakes on your skin. The normally cold grandmaster’s drop from the eyes he seemed to get lost in a little too often towards your soft and pretty lips.
With a sharp inhale, he lifted his forehead away from yours for a moment. Unable to resist, the cyromancer placed a gentle kiss against your lips. His breath when he pulled away was cool against your lips. 
In this moment of vulnerability, he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his lips.
You swallowed, your eyes zeroing right onto the smile. How rare it was, how precious. How could you not help but gawk and admire? Despite your lover being a man who wielded ice, you found yourself melting all too easily into his gentle touches.
“Thank you for being here.” He murmured again, allowing himself to bare yet another part of his soul to you. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones and he knew the motion was answer enough. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax into your touch.
This was truly a moment that only you two were allowed to witness.
TOMAS VRBADA
As your forehead connected with Tomas’, you heard a sigh of exhaustion leave his lips. His arms draped around you lazily, almost having not enough energy to keep them around you. You let his weight lean onto you, almost letting the man nearly collapse on top of you. Another sigh left his lips as your hands kept his face close. It was almost as if you were keeping him up with your hands alone, at this point.
His eyes were shut, and you could see the hints of exhaustion begin to peek through his perfect face. As much as you knew he loved his new duties for the clan, you also knew he was beginning to hit his limits. Your thumb ran carefully across his face, almost like a little massage. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face at the little gesture.
“Training initiates are hard.” Tomas mumbled, and your heart nearly broke at how utterly tired he sounded. Even despite his exhaustion, you could tell the passion he had for his responsibilities. Still, it worries you no less. You hummed, an acknowledgement of his tiredness. You felt him lean a little more into your touch, allowing himself to indulge within the small moment you were sharing with him.
His arms moved around you a little less languidly, as if he found a second wind within your presence. And it was true, just being around you was enough to give him the strength to do more than he thought he could. Oftentimes when he felt like collapsing he thought of you waiting for him, and it gave him just enough energy to make it back into your arms every single day. 
With another sigh he pulled you closer, a sense of greediness in his actions. You let him, indulging him. His smile grew a bit as he nuzzled your nose against yours slowly. A laugh left your lips at the action, and Toma’s heart couldn’t help but leap at the sound. Just your laugh was enough to re-energize him. Did you know how much you meant to him?
“Thank you for waiting for me.” Tomas said, his voice dripping with all the love he held for you. He knew that sometimes you would wait long stretches of time for him to return after every day ever since he was entrusted with more responsibilities. You never complained, never whined, you just welcomed him back every day with open arms. 
He could ask for nothing more.
With a little chuckle, he squeezed you tightly. It was as if he was trying to show you how much he adored you, just how grateful he was with one giant hug. For that, you rewarded him with a small kiss, featherlight, right above his left eyebrow on his scar. It was a gesture Tomas swooned over. Even if you could not remove the scar itself, you could at least imbue better memories associated with it.
Even if he was given the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders, he would not complain as long as he had you to return to every night.
SHANG TSUNG
Your forehead pressed against Shang Tsung’s and suddenly it felt like the world didn’t matter. Your eyes closed, a sign of trust that Shang Tsung truly didn’t deserve. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing you to pull yourself close to the sorcerer. His arms, meanwhile, draped in a most elegant manner around you.
In these small moments where you closed your eyes, Shang Tsung truly let himself indulge in the beauty that was you. His eyes scanned your face, noting all the features that truly made you one of a kind. All the little things that you perceived as quirks and imperfections seemed only to create a masterpiece for him. For a man who has been condemned to a life of misery by the universe, he was fortunate that it was kind enough to let him meet you.
As your eyes fluttered open, the man had to reel himself back in. His gaze, though still soft, became just the tiniest bit more guarded. His smile which had been so genuine became just a little more precise and practiced. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show any love, far from it. But he had to remember that with the ambitions and plans he held, he had to just be a little more protective of himself. It’d be simply foolish to show just how much he adored you.
Everyday with you, however, the cracks were getting harder and harder to conceal. 
“You look simply amazing my dear.” Shang Tsung complimented, raising a careful hand to stroke your cheek. Despite his compliment, that was not how he felt. He felt more for you, and you had no idea. You were stunning, gorgeous, divine, so much more than just amazing. But even all the words he could think of to describe you was not sufficient enough. For now, just amazing would do.
Your smile, which you blessed him with, had his heart aflutter. Before meeting you, Shang Tsung had little reservations about using others for his own gain. Others were simply an end to a means for him. And yet, with you, the idea of lumping you with the others he was quite ready to dispose of made him feel uneasy.
You were much more than just another stepping stone. Oh, but if the world were to know about his weakness for you, the universe would cast their cruel eyes upon you next. Selfish as the sorcerer was in keeping the truth of how deep his feelings were for you, he also saw it as a blessing. As long as the universe did not scorn you the way it did him, it was enough for now.
Letting the mask facade of how he felt slip just a touch, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. With pride and satisfaction he felt your cheeks heat up just for him. Sometimes it comforted him to know that you felt perhaps a fraction of the love he truly held for you. 
Maybe one day, just maybe, he’d finally let you know just how much power you had over him and his heart.
MILEENA
Your forehead pressed against Mileena’s, and you wished it was enough to drive the whispers away. In the privacy of your shared chambers, it was quiet. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of the throne and the doubters of your lover that you so loathed. Your hands reached up to cup her pretty face that you adored, looking into her eyes.
A smile was on her face. It was a weary one. You knew while Mileena strove to be the best Empress she could be, and took great pride in it, she often was tired by the end of the day because of it. Even if it was not physically, the mental toll of being on top of such a throne was tough work. You did not envy the burden she shouldered, but there were times you wished you could share the burden of it just so she can rest a little bit better.
You knew you could not, so you did whatever else you could instead.
You moved your forehead away to press a few kisses to her forehead, wishing so desperately that it would abate the worries of doubt that were planted in her head. If not that, you hoped that your kisses at least passed along some of your own energy so she could power through. You wondered, for a moment, if it was possible to do that. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones, and you wondered silently to yourself how you were so lucky to become her lover. You nearly missed the adoring gleam in her eyes, and it was a look that made your breath catch.
“I’ll prove those doubters wrong, don’t worry.” Your empress promised, her voice fueled with the determination of a woman who has been scorned. You smiled, knowing she had been able to read you and your thoughts like a book. To be so in sync with your lover was a blessing you were ever thankful for. As an acknowledgement of her words, you gave her another kiss, this time pressing it upon the scar that went through her eyebrow.
You never doubted Mileena’s prowess. She had so much drive, how could you not? And yet, if you could, you would do anything to silence the doubters. How dare they question her rule, how could they not see  the wonderful woman who was born to rule? You often told yourself, to calm yourself down, that they were merely jealous of your lover. 
“There is nothing more I need than you to be by my side, dearest.” Mileena told you, her fingers tracing your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew in that moment that if you could, you would stay by her side to always cheer her on. She didn’t even need to ask you.
You grabbed her hands, intertwining them with yours. You squeezed them tightly, trying to pour all the encouragement that you could not find enough words for in that one action. She returned the squeeze, a content sigh leaving her lips as her smile grew. 
Maybe you couldn’t help with every trouble she had, but you could at least make her smile…and maybe that was just enough.
KITANA
You pressed your forehead against Kitana’s brow, and finally you felt your worries dissipate. It was hard to be the lover of a Supreme Commander. Every day you feared for your lover’s life. It was not as if you doubted her prowess on the battlefield. It was far from that, you thought she was the best fit for Supreme Commander after all. Even if she was the best fit, you sometimes selfishly wished that someone else would take her place so she could stay safe.
You have never confessed this selfish little secret to her.
It was just that…war was cruel. You’ve heard and known the horrors of war and how death doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes accidents happen, or a death can come out of nowhere. You feared that one day it might take the best thing you have in your life. 
But now you didn’t need to worry, because now she was back and in your arms. You let out a sigh as you pressed your forehead a little more towards her. Meanwhile, your fingers traced the injuries she had suffered from the skirmishes she had gone through. You noted how the bandages from the medics were fresh. Your heart squeezed at the sight of them. If only civil war was not looming over Outworld, then she would not have to sacrifice herself out there on the battlefield. 
“It’s okay, I’m safe.” Kitana whispered, dragging you out of your worrying mind. Her fingers traced your cheek, and she looked at you with a gentle gaze. You marveled at her ability to whisk away your worries. Looking into her eyes alone calmed you down and made you feel like everything was alright. You wished you could do the same for her. Her other hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently. You noted how her hands were still remarkably soft for a woman who goes to war. A soft smile appeared on her face, and you could not help the way that your heart raced.
Words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to express the utter amount of love you felt for the princess. How could you express these overwhelming feelings that threatened to consume you? You figured it was impossible to ever express just how much she meant to you with words alone. Instead, you moved to press a few kisses on her injuries. If only you had the ability to heal her wounds just like that. Did she know you would do that for her? A light laugh left Kitana’s lips at your actions, and you swooned over the sound.
“I appreciate you.” She said, her voice light with the remnants of the laughter she had blessed upon you. Her hand squeezed yours again to punctuate her point. You smiled at her, wanting to ingrain the sight of her being happy and by your side forever into your mind. Your thumb rubbed small circles on her hand.
Maybe she had to go to war, it was a harsh reality you’ve accepted, but as long as she returned to be in your arms…that would be enough.
ASHRAH
Your forehead pressed against Ashrah’s, and the music in the background made the moment feel just perfect. A wide smile appeared on your face as you guided your lover through a slow dance. You watched with joy as your lover’s eyes were wide with admiration as you led her through the dance. You wondered for a moment if she knew how much you adored her in return. Surely she didn’t, how could she? The both of you swayed back and forth, enjoying the intimate moment.
“There was nothing like this back in the Netherrealm.” Ashrah marveled, a smile that made your heart melt on her lips. It was the very same smile she would give you every time you showed her the joys of Earthrealm. You could never tire of the sight, and you knew you’d do anything to see it over and over again.
That was exactly why you introduced her to the idea of slow dancing. You knew she would have probably never experienced anything like this. And you were right. You were honored to be her first ever dance partner. The twinkle in her eye showed that she was just as happy to have you guiding her through this dance.
Together with the memories you formed together, you knew she was creating more and more of a home within this realm. You hoped that you were included in her idea of home.
A laugh left your lips as you pulled her close, craving more contact. Despite her dexterity in combat, she was not used to dancing. Chuckles left the both of you as you stumbled a bit, tripping over each other’s feet. Luckily, she did not fall. Instead, you held her tightly. You gripped her hip tightly, making sure she was steady.
“Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ashrah apologized after her laughter died down. You found you could only grin and shake your head at her apology. You two were out here to create memories and have fun, not to dance perfectly for anyone else. She could step on your toes every few seconds and you could care less. Her laughter alone made up for any mistakes she made. “Thank you for showing me these Earthrealm customs.”
Anytime, you thought. Honestly, you would do anything for her. It was hard to believe she was a demon with a heart as pure as her’s. You didn’t care though. Her past as a demon was often a source of confusion and concern for others, but never for you. All that mattered was who she was now, and she was simply fantastic.
“I think I quite like dancing.” Ashrah commented, pressing a light kiss upon your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at her with eyes full of adoration. How could you not swoon over her? You returned the favor, pressing a few light kisses all over her face. You couldn’t help it. Another melodic laugh left her lips.
Yeah, you think you like dancing too.
HAVIK
Your forehead bumped against Havik’s and you enjoyed the moment of serenity that was brought with it. You watched as your lover’s eyes closed, a rare moment in which he allowed himself to relax. You couldn’t help but to feel honored by the small gesture. He was always fighting, striving to fight for what his ideals were, but around you the man felt no need.
You eyed his scars, the ones he had gotten as a slave. Carefully, you reached out to brush your fingers against his scars. The care you put into the touch was not necessary, you knew Havik was strong and a simple brush against them would not break the man. Yet it felt it was necessary, These were reminders of his harsh past, a memory of why he was out there, fighting.
Honestly, all of him was a canvas. You knew very well that your lover was capable of healing his wounds ever since he met Quan Chi. Had he wanted, you knew he could repair the wounds he had gained through all of his life. But he didn’t. His body was his story. Every bump, bruise, cut that left a mark became like a stroke of paint. You couldn’t help but adore how he kept his imperfections. Not many would.
“Most don’t realize why I keep those around.” Havik grunted. There was a sense of frustration in his tone, no one else but you understood the vision he saw for the future, let alone understood the way he thought. You knew though. Even if he were to forget everything about you, he knew he would recognize your understanding from the reverence you carried when you traced the past injuries he wore like a badge. Only others who understood his ideals for the future would do the same.
You also knew that he thought it looked more fearsome. A burnt and scarred man was much more striking than a normal man. Your fingers trailed up his body, mapping out the locations of his injuries with your touch. Then, you let your fingers rest on his jawline right below where his flesh turned into exposed gums and teeth.
“You understand me.” Your lover said, his voice filled with the same amount of admiration for you as it did when he spoke of his vision for Seidou. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat as you realized that fact. You bumped your forehead gently against his again. Seeing as he had no lips to kiss, the two of you had settled on forehead bumping instead.
You felt Havik raise a hand, his touch gentle as it gripped your chin. He wasn’t known for gentle touches or gestures, but you were the exception. Softly, he bumped his forehead against yours again. Then, he rubbed it back and forth affectionately. You were, perhaps, the only person in the world he would allow himself to be this quaint with.
It was all for you, the one who he considered to be a true partner.
CASSIE CAGE
Your forehead settled against Cassie’s, and suddenly you were disinterested in the movie in the background. Instead, you were far too preoccupied with the sight of your lover and how radiant she looked with the colors of the television shining against her skin. How was it that every type of color seemed to compliment her perfectly?
“I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie.” Cassie teased, her eyebrows raising as she sent you a playful grin. She was a hypocrite though, as her attention was more on you rather than the movie she had picked out. Her arm was slung around your shoulders and you were cuddled close together on the couch.
Today was one of her rare days off. Ever since she got promoted, she’s been busier than ever. And yet, there were moments you two managed to find and relax together. Tonight was supposed to be movie night, you let her pick anything she wanted…as long as it wasn’t one of her dad’s films. She rolled her eyes at your little stipulation, but agreed. Your lover saw enough of her dad at work.
Even with your little agreement, you found yourself entranced with Cassie more. I mean, how could you not be? Her smile just seemed to be more eye-catching than anything Hollywood could produce. You were so entranced by her, in fact, that you didn’t notice the hand that snuck up to pinch your cheek. You jolted in surprise, letting out a small laugh.
“Thought I lost you there!” Your lover giggled, her hand now cupping your cheek instead. Her thumb gently rubbed over the part she had pinched, as if to soothe it. She let out a small sigh as she moved to nuzzle your cheek before giving it an affectionate smooch. “You know, Grandma Carlton has been dying to meet you.” She confessed, her voice going a touch sentimental.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt excitement course through your veins. Has Cassie been telling good things about you to her grandmother? Upon seeing your giddy expression, she squeezed your shoulder with the hand that laid upon it. 
“Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Cassie asked, and you felt like you were falling all over again. Cassie must have taken acting lessons at one point, because she knew exactly how to make you swoon as if she were the lead in a movie. Her eyes glimmered with affection as she pressed another kiss to your cheek. 
A laugh that revitalized your soul came from your lover as you returned the favor and gave her a soft kiss back. In the midst of her laughter, you vaguely heard her mention how you were both definitely missing out on the plot. You didn’t care though, you were too busy admiring the real beauty in front of you.
Who needed movies? All you needed was Cassie, and you had a feeling she didn’t mind missing out too just for you.
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star-eyed-angels · 4 months
Text
Secrets and Sleep
bang chan x gn reader
fluff 1.6k
where you spill your heart out to your sleeping boyfriend.
AN: A small thing I started when I was sad that morphed into something more hope you like it.
______
It’s nearly 2 a.m. as you lay in bed, your boyfriend at your side. With Chan’s habit of working through the night in the studio, it’s rare you have him in bed with you before the sun is up. But tonight he’d come home earlier, wanting to spend a little more time with you to ease his stress. Tonight that meant cuddling in bed after a takeout dinner. 
Now you found yourself wide awake with a sleeping Chan next to you. His body is turned towards you as he sleeps on his side, pillow smushed against the side of his face. 
You brush the curly hair delicately out of his face, smiling softly when he shifts closer to you. You’ve always thought he looked so beautiful while he slept. Looking nothing but relaxed. Exuding pure warmth and comfort when he sleeps. You tuck your hands back under your cheek resting on them as you watch Chans even breathing. Your eyes trail over his features slowly, a small smile on your face as you watch him. The room is quiet as you feel your heart squeeze with the need to speak. 
“So many nights I used to wish for someone. Nights I dreamed of finding love, the right love,” your voice is soft as you speak into the open room, being careful to not wake Chan from his sleep. “And then the universe sent me you… perfectly wrapped in your endless black hoodies and topped with your messy little curls,” you gently trace a finger around one of his curls. 
“I remember the first time I met you at the cafe. You hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes before I was spilling half my order into your lap,” you cover your face in embarrassment. A laugh escapes you as you recall the memory.  “God, I was absolutely mortified. And then you were the one apologizing to me.” 
“To be honest, I never thought someone could look like you and still be that nice. Hot and kind Mr. Bahng,” you snort out quietly. You remember his smile as he waved off your apologies. Even as the lingering bits of coffee dripped onto his lap. You think you hadn’t 
“But there you were. Being so kind even after I ruined your clothes. And then you just stuck, like me embarrassing myself in front of you just made us friends. You were so willing to bring me into your circle and into your life.” You pause, staring off into the room around you. 
The room is still quiet as you glance at the photos and decorations littered around the space. Memories of before and after your relationship started, pieces of furniture you’d bickered over before laughing at how much you sounded like an old married couple. Even the bed you sleep on holds the memory of putting it together and suffering with Chan as he struggled to interpret the instructions. You can't help but feel sentimental in your room, your home. Thinking about how it all started with meeting Chan.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am to have you. Ever since we met, you’ve always been so kind and willing to help. Even without knowing you, I could see that. And when we became friends that didn’t change, you offered me someone to lean on and the opportunity to make my own little circle with your members. In the short time after we met you added so much joy to my life and I genuinely couldn't believe it.” 
You turn back to look at Chan, who is still asleep, his slow breaths the only sound in the room. 
“And then you asked me out and I had never been so nervous in my life.” The memory of when he asked you out warms your heart. You don’t think you’d ever seen him that nervous as he avoided eye contact with you. His ears and cheeks pink as he had stumbled over his words. To be fair you weren’t doing any better, with your barely controlled giggles and warm face.  You’d thanked whatever in the universe kept you standing on your feet as you listened to his confession. 
“I was scared, you know, to fall in love again. Even though I wanted it, I didn’t think it was for me…” You hesitate, but decide to continue, “Everyone before, they didn't- They didn’t make me feel like I was worth the effort… I felt like a chore really…
“I was so convinced that I was unlovable. Each and every heartbreak just made me feel I wasn’t worth the effort.You place your hand on his cheek, softly rubbing your thumb against it.
Your voice is soft as you continue, ”But you’ve never made me feel like I was invisible. Like I was a cutout in this relationship. When it comes to you, you’ve shown me what it really means to be in love.”
“The ways you love me, you’re so attentive, so caring, so.. You. I’ve never felt a love like this. I wish there was a greater word to use than love, because you do more than love me. It’s like you give me the world in every little thing you do for me.” You laugh, a hint of embarrassment making you warm even though Chan is sleeping quietly next to you. 
“We’ve been together for so long, yet you’re still here giving me butterflies like a schoolgirl crush. I know it's a little silly, but you just make me feel like I’m something special”. You pause, stopping the words on the tip of your tongue.
Even after all this time, the hesitation from past relationships makes you nervous. But one look at Chan makes your worries fall away. He’s been your safe place for almost as long as you’ve known him. Even with this. Even if the thought of saying it out loud scares you, you know Chan would never judge you. You smile as you look at him, taking a calming breath. Even in his sleep it still feels like he’s helping you to calm your nerves. 
“You make me feel like I’m worth a forever,” Your confession comes out in a shaky whisper. You pause, even in the still room it feels like the world may suddenly come crashing down at your confession. But nothing changes. The room is still quiet. Chan still sleeps peacefully next to you. Your heart is still slightly beating out of your body. But a weight on your chest has slightly been lifted.
“I know that being in a relationship isn’t easy. But even through all the ups and downs, I’ve never felt unloved by you. Even the hard days don't feel as hard.
“I know at the beginning, loving me was hard. A lot of the time I  let my fear of us get in the way… but you were always patient. You never pushed me, never made me do something I didn’t want to. It’s like you know me better than I know myself most days.
“And I just… I just really hope you know how much I love you. How I would bring heaven down for you if I could. Catch all the stars in the sky for you. I want to give you the world like you do for me. And I kinda really want to spend the rest of my life with you.
You pause smiling softly at him. You lean forward, gently brushing your lips across his forehead. “I don’t know if you feel the same, but I really hope you do,” you mumble softly. 
You place a gentle kiss against his skin, smiling as you lean back. 
“Sweet dreams my love,” you say softly, bringing your hand back down to your side. You watch Chan’s steady breathing, feeling your eyes get heavier with the need to sleep. The last thing you remember is moving closer to Chan, before you’re fast asleep next to him. 
_______
Chan has no secrets. He’s always been open with you. Even with the occasional surprise he still manages to give it away.
‘I did get you an anniversary gift. But I won’t tell you what it is.’
‘I’m planning your birthday party, what kind of cake do you want?’
Most people would be put off by this. Something about needing surprises to keep a relationship going. But you love Chan's openness. You love how he wants everything to go perfect, paying attention to every little detail.. It makes you feel special and you love it. Other than that, Chan has no secrets.
That is until tonight.
Tonight as he lays with his eyes closed next to you. He shifts closer to you sleepily as he feels your fingers near his hair. He’s about to open his eyes to look at you when you speak. His heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest as you open your heart out to him. He thought that he couldn’t fall even more in love with you, but here you are stealing his heart once again.He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more in love with you than this moment.
He fights the urge to jump up and trap you in his arms, to pepper every inch of your skin in kisses and tell you how much he loves you. He knows this is a delicate moment. One he’ll treasure for the rest of his life. 
So after tonight Chan has two secrets.
The first being that he’s not actually asleep next to you and can hear every word you’re saying. He figures he’ll tell you eventually. When the moment is right.
Which brings him to his second secret.
When he’s gonna give you the ring he plans to buy you first thing in the morning. His commitment to never stop showing you what you mean to him. A promise to a forever that you deserve.
A forever that he really wants to spend with you too.
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blkgirl-writing · 7 months
Note
Your stuff is so amazing!!!! Asdfghjkl
Love to hear what Gale dreams about before he and Tav admit their feelings....
Small blurb on what keeps Gale up at night. Aka you/tav. My wizard husband is so sweet 🥰
Tags: fluff, longing, writing a man to be perfect, tad bit of angst.
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-
Gales eyes were wide open, staring at the cluster of stars above, though his mind was distant. Not but a few feet away slept the one he so longed to call lover, to share the same bed and whisper eachother longing good nights. To kiss under the moon, fingers hooked together, and think of eachother in the dream realm.
Instead, he held his own hand, a habit he carried too long to remember when it started, to stop him from feeling truly alone. The comfort usually came from knowing he would always have himself, and Tara not far behind. But the idea of your hand in his crept upon him nightly. How would your hands feel? Soft? Hardened from battle? Would they fit into his own? Would you mind his fingers drawing circles on your skin?
He couldn’t bare to let you go, not daring to lose you to some deep feelings. Deep feelings that made days and nights feel fast, getting lost in your voice, struck on your talent in battle, speechless at your body. You were a dream he wanted to hold onto forever. But, no one can dream forever. He knew what needed to be done, what was happening around you all, far too much to be selfish and want you all to himself, especially knowing his own journey would come to an end soon enough. He had wished, once, that you had never met him, for if you really did care about him, as impossible as it seemed, you wouldn’t have to go through the loss and pain if you survived the orb as well.
But there was this nagging in his head, the fantasy of a life together, so riddled with impossibilities that made any sort of future futile. But gods did he want it. To see you in his home sounded too far from reality enough, let alone home cooking a meal, you finally meeting Tara, your legs draped across his lap while you listened to him read you a book. It was a vision of paradise he knew he could never have.
So he closed his eyes, the stars bright light lingering in his vision, or lack there of, for a few moments. Letting the small comfort of a future wash over him and into his dreams, letting him escape into the idea of a reality he would never think to become true.
-
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@shyminnie07 @makers-breath
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igotanidea · 10 months
Text
(Heart)warming : Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
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Summary/request: cockwarming with Hotch(ner)
Warnings: well, the summary says it all, nothing explicit but still MDNI
***
„Aaron?”  her voice sounded so quiet and small in the empty, darkened room, lighted only by pinspot on his desk.
“Go back to bed” he mumbled, not looking up from the pile of files towering before him.
“You know I can’t sleep without you.” she whispered, taking one step closer. “Please Aaron.”
“Y/N…..” he sighed deeply and his calm, piercing eyes landed on her figure, immediately turning soft an loving. Y/N. His love. The one that was there for him despite everything, supporting, upholding, comforting after hard cases.  Enduring all those lonely hours and nights without him, being left hanging whenever he was out, working with the team. And now, she was standing in front of him, wearing only an oversized T-shirt, her legs bare, eyes wide open despite the late hour, soft hair surrounding her pretty, but worried face like a halo. It was almost impossible to tell her no. But he had work  “I have to finish this.” he hissed, eyes landing back on the documents.
“Aaron, baby.” She moved towards him even more. “You’ve been working too hard lately.”
“Comes with the specific of the job.”
“I know, baby.” She cooed, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at her “I’m not making you choose, you know that.”
“But?”
“How do you know there’s a but? she smiled lightly, caressing his skin, making him close his eyes in a pure bliss and lean into her touch
“I’m a …..”
“shhhh” she silenced him “you promised not to profile me. Ever.”
“sorry. Force of habits.” Hotch smirked and that face expression added to his boyish charm. The charm he fell for.
“but….” she trailed “there is a but coming.” Her shoulders dropped slightly “I miss you, babe.” She leaned forward slightly, brushing her soft lips over his and he did not stop her. “I barely see you, lately. And when I do you’re always worried or stressed or holding back your emotions. It’s bad for you.”
‘Y/N…..” he gasped as her mouth brushed over his jaw, the intimacy and care conveyed by those gentle touch like nothing he experienced for a while now. Long while.
“I know you can’t talk about the specifics of your work….” Her hand tangled in his hair, scratching at his nape “but I can’t stand you being so tense…. Not with me, Aaron.” She was getting bolder with every second he was not pushing her away. If anything, the way he was reacting to her touches and caresses only made her want more as without any hesitation she sat on his lap, capturing his lips in hers once more, both arms locking behind his neck, luring him in. Smiling happily as his hands circled over her waist, pulling her closer to him, moving up and down her sides and reciprocating with the passion she missed for the last weeks.  “Aaron….” She let out a quiet moan feeling his excitement brush against her core.
“I love you.” he muttered against her jaw, one hand sneaking under her shirt, feeling her soft, smooth skin. The sensation incomparable with anything else. “I’m sorry,, sweetheart.”
“Don’t be….” She whispered, putting a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him “I knew what I was getting myself into when I met you. Just…..”
“What?” he asked, running the other hand through her soft hair, playing with the top button of the shirt, wanting nothing more than to get rid of that piece of clothing and spend the night with her. Loving her. Worshipping her. But as much as they both craved one another, they also knew he couldn’t  do that. Not until the case was closed.
“Let me help you.” she gasped “Let me help you relax.”
“Baby….”
“You can still work on that.” Her hands travelled from his arms, down his chest, to his abs and found his belt, painfully slowly unfastening it, hole after hole, giving him a chance to stop her, to withdraw. He did not, absolutely hypnotized by everything she was doing “I don’t think this can distract you , can it, agent?” she raised an eyebrow, being done with the belt, slowly unzipping his pants. Hotch was definitely not going to say that out loud, but she was as hot and seductive as never before. And he wanted her. Strict, demanding and cold SSA Aaron Hotcher was gone, absolutely lost in the love she was giving him. Turning needy just for her.
“You are being awfully distracting now.” he pointed out, still not losing his cool outside.
“Do you want me to stop?” she pouted, her eyes landing on him, withdrawing her touch.
“I think we both started some business we need to finish, Y/N” he responded, pecking her lips and she got the hint immediately freeing his hard-on, already ready for her “can you behave?”
“Will you punish me if I don’t?” she breathed against his cheek. “Tell me what exactly will you do to me.”
“Y/N…..” he warned, tightening the grip on her.
“All right, all right. I get it. No teasing.” She let out a single laugh, the music to his ears and wriggled on his lap, squirming to get rid of her underwear.
“No teasing, huh?” Hotch raised an eyebrow at her behavior, his breath becoming a bit heavier.
“What? You said it, I got business to take care of. And that requires some additional working” she moved once more making him groan in need, smiled and raised her hand in which she was holding her panties “Ups!” she dropped them onto the floor “I think I lost something….”
“I am a patient man.”
“Really? So you want me to do all the work by myself?”
“Come here.” He ordered grabbing her hips, guiding her towards his cock. Only the tip dived in between her folds, but the sensation made them both moan in unison.
“Aaron…..”
“I missed you too, baby.” His eyes focused on her face, twisting in more pleasure the lower she was sinking. “You ready?”
“Yes… please….”
Giving all the control into his hands she let him enter and stretch her fully. It felt so good feeling him like this. So full. So complete with his love surrounding her like a warm blanket.
“I love you, Y/N….”
“I …. I love you too, my agent. Does this make you feel better?” she asked, so willing to help him, to ease all his pain.
“The best. Thank you love.” He kissed her again. And again. And again. Only with chaste pecks, worried than anything else may lead to some real action between them. And he really had to finish this job. And once again she got the hint.   
“No, thank you.” Y/N shook her head. “I needed this too. Now, keep working baby. I got you. You got me.” She pulled herself closer to his chest, hugging him tightly, her head resting on his shoulder, feeling safe and loved while being so close to him. This was far better than any intercourse they could have. It was emotional, heartwarming and fulfilling. But she could not help planting a little, playful kiss on his cheek.
“Behave yourself…” he chucked and she nuzzled his neck with her nose.
“Sorry, can’t help it.” her deep breaths were calming him down a bit. Just because she was with him.
“I love you, Y/N.”
“Love you more, Hotch.”
@somest1
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artethyst · 1 month
Text
~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister!OC/Reader
“Enjoying fatherhood Brother?” Came Lucien’s sarcastic voice at the sight of Eris- High Lord of Autumn, nothing less than dishevelled.
Eris offered him no response, the circles beneath his eyes telling his brother enough before you swanned in with a fluffy bundle secure in your arms.
If his son were not so cute, he might have cursed the boy for robbing him of sleep for the past week, a new habit he had seemed to adopt whenever he was left alone in his cot at night.
Despite the Healer’s advising against it, saying it was very much normal and the boy would only grow needier, Eris couldn’t stand to hear his child’s pained cries.
He knew how it felt to feel abandoned.
Unloved.
His son would never feel the same.
Even if his Mate berated him for turning soft or some of the more traditional- slowly withering branches of Beron’s Advisory circle scathingly judged him for it.
Motherhood looked good on you- a warm glow to your unblemished skin and new life within those once lifeless cheeks that had struck Eris with horror as he had been forced to watch you- lying there, bleeding out.
The Healers telling him neither you nor your babe would survive.
And whilst he did not tell you, the memory of it, even now, months later, left him sleepless. And despite trying his very best never to think of how you looked- the thought of you ever being taken from him, he still felt sick at the thought.
He might have envied how naturally parenthood had come to you- how beautiful you still were despite it all, but he loved you too much to ever care about his own troubles in comparison.
As you approached, Eris instinctively wrapped a strong arm around your waist, if he had been protective before and especially during your pregnancy, it was nothing compared to now.
It was as though he still needed visceral proof- feel the warmth of your beating heart next to his to remind himself you were well.
Well and alive.
Lucien didn’t have the heart to tease his brother about it.
Baby Silas began to stir against your chest, his wide amber eyes curiously blinking as his little fist moved to his yawning lips, slobbering over his knuckles with a guiltless, dimpled smile.
He made little cooing noises, small tufts of red hair delicate and curled atop his head as he snuggled further into the winter fur blanket Kallias and Viviane had so generously gifted him.
You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his rosy cheek, wishing you could stay clasping him close forever.
“He is a curious child,” you began, passing over the bundle to your brother-in-law who had come to visit his nephew, “though, grumpy like his father,” and as if on cue, Silas’ small brow furrowed and pink lips pouted when he felt himself being jostled from the warmth of his mother’s arms.
The pair of them ignored Eris’ scowl as Silas wiggled in his Uncle’s arms, the Emissary chuckling as the boy began chewing on a strand of his long hair, face determined as he dribbled.
“Brainless, just like his father too.”
You laughed as Lucien bounced the boy, pressing yourself into your Mate’s side further, placing a light kiss to the underside of his jaw.
You noticed his withdrawal, and whilst it was not unusual for him to be detached, it was not like him to be so solemn.
Especially with you around.
“Er, are you alright?” He tilted his head down to face you, your twinkling violet eyes marred with concern and was forced to bury the thought of the Mother snatching his happiness from him along with his childhood traumas.
“I am fine, My Love.” He mused pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, you weren’t convinced but did not push him. “Are you?”
“How could I not be?” You teased, fondly watching as Lucien spoke animatedly to Silas, grimacing as the child tugged on his hair in excitement as the man he viewed nothing more than the tall person with the same hair as his daddy and with funny deep voice spoke to him. “I have all I could ever want.”
Eris smiled- a real smile.
He couldn’t help but chuckle watching his brother and his son, heart overflowing with love as his wife stood beside him, flooding their bond with the same mirth.
Everything he had gone through- all that he had fought had been worth it.
For this.
And watching his baby- a near copy of him with the woman he loved most’s infectious smile, bringing a childish peace to his brother’s all so often annoyingly smug face reminded him of all his sacrifices.
And he knew he would do it all again.
-
With Lucien cutting his trip short, having felt a desperate tug on the bond from a freshly Mated Elain, the three of you were left alone.
You were absentmindedly sprawled over Eris, lulled into a light sleep by the warmth he emitted.
He didn’t have the heart to wake you.
Silas too was asleep against his chest, his little soft snores almost comically in sync with his mother’s.
Eris let his fingers run comfortingly along the back of his son’s head, relishing in the soft tufts whilst supporting his small neck with the other.
The babe whined contently in response, his drool pooling against his father’s tunic as the older male could only trace the boy’s perfect face with a calloused fingertip. Silas’ soft flesh a welcome sensation against his scarred skin.
The High Lord took a deep breath of his own, relishing in the scent of his beloved-a fresh jasmine and amber, and his son’s- a light cinnamon with hints of a fresh bloom.
A subtle mix of both of his parents’.
And with the two of you by his side, there was no longer a heaviness in his heart, but one in his throat as tears of relief and pure love gathered in his sharp eye.
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loaksky · 1 year
Text
— 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 [𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦]
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the lowdown — the one where neteyam is too blinded by duty to realize what he has right in front of him. 
the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader
the word count  — 5.6k (this isn't even a drabble anymore).
the tags & warnings — language, more emotional constipation, mentions of blood & injury, childhood friends(?)2l, unrequited love, angst w a semi-happy / openish ending.
the notes  — based off of this request & this one ! let’s pretend the trees of souls didn’t get burned down in the first movie :) 
masterlist
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You were an odd thing, curious, maybe a little strange, but like learning anything, everyone had grown accustomed to your weird little habits. Everyone except for Neteyam, the clan leader’s son. And the weird habit in question was poorly-expressed words of adoration that seemed to meld into unconventional confessions as you got older. 
It started when you two were eight, perhaps nine. The two of you were in a village elder’s tent, learning the best ways to debone fish to prepare for meals when she’d ducked out for a moment and left the two of you in a cloud of uncomfortable silence. 
Neteyam’s fingers were nimble, swift, while you lagged behind, eyes fluttering to the way he seemed to grasp the elder’s instruction with more ease than you. 
“We should always be together,” you’d said absently, still fiddling with the same fish while Neteyam moved onto the next. “I will be useless to our family without you.” 
Neteyam’s spine had gone rigid, gaze wide as he side-eyed you from his seat. 
“Huh?” He’d clearly been caught off guard, ministrations on the catch frozen as his eyebrows furrowed. 
“When we are married,” you’d said, holding the bone structure of your first fish triumphantly.
“Married?” he parroted shrilly, fully turning to face you. 
You looked up from your task, nodding like it was the most common of knowledge.
“Yes, Neteyam,” you affirmed, chuffing a small laugh. “In the future, when we are married.” 
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Neteyam wouldn’t have been so off put had the comment been a one time thing, but they were frequent, spoken both in the quiet of much-dreaded time alone with you and hushed whispers in the midst of the other villagers your age. 
It wasn’t any help that his parents seemed to always set the two of you up in many endeavors over the course of your adolescence. And he’d tried, tried so hard to shake you over the years, but you were glued to his hip. 
You look handsome today, you’d say often, regardless. Training is paying off, whispered in his ear as your fingertips smoothe over the skin of his biceps. I hope the little ones grow to be as mighty as you are, spoken after sessions in the archery circle. The comments are all fleeting, mentioned in passing like a casual word, but they make Neteyam warm, make his cheeks heat when he searches your face for any betrayal of emotion. 
But all he’s met with is an expression that borders smug, one that makes him wonder why, out of all of the boys growing into fine young men over the course of your adolescence, had you picked him to be the object of your affections. 
Try as he might, to be short-tempered, callous, you were always there. He sought the attention of other women, tried to put as many bodies between the two of you, but you were relentless, smiled gently when you’d catch his wandering hands against the skin of another, would turn a blind eye when his lips brushed too intimately over eager ears.
At first he figured that maybe it was because he was the first boy you’d encountered and it’d just been the way the cards were dealt. At times he thought you were messing with him, a long-running joke between you and some unknown entities to fuck around with his feelings. His current theory, however, is one that he sits more confidently on when he begins observing you. 
You spend an awful amount of time not only tailing him, but tailing his family, pestering Kiri and Lo’ak about god knows what, spending many afternoons schmoozing with his parents, seeking guidance from Mo’at. 
He comes to the conclusion, after some time, that you’re trying to solidify your place within his family, trying to secure your role next to him as the future leader of the clan. This much is confirmed when his parents bring up the sore topic of you one night once everyone has turned in after the evening meal. 
“The time for your selection feast is arriving,” Neytiri says hesitantly, like she’s treading on thin ice. 
Neteyam has an inkling where this conversation will go when Jake shifts to sit next to his partner, the perfect picture of what a love that transcends all should look like. But he doesn’t know love, just knows preparing for his future and what ruling the clan will look like. 
“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees. 
“Do you have someone in mind?” Jake prods, busying himself by toying with his songchord. 
To his dismay, you briefly eclipse his mind, the annoyingly beautiful girl he’d grown up with but, even a decade later, still can’t seem to get a good read on.
“No,” he answers slowly. 
His parents seem to chew on this for a moment, glancing at each other momentarily before Neytiri draws in a deep breath and focuses her attention on her oldest son all over again. 
“Well…your father and I believe that perhaps ________ could be a good choice.”
It’s like a bomb detonates, but the aftershocks are only seen in the way Neteyam’s lips purse and his brows furrow. 
He’s not one to go against his parents, but he’ll be damned if he has to spend forever with you. 
“No,” he repeats, but with time with vindication. 
Jake looks stunned, back straightening as he takes his son in with wary eyes.
“No?” 
“No,” Neteyam reiterates. “I would rather spend my life alone than spend it with her.” 
“Neteyam,” Neytiri sighs. 
“I’m sorry, Mom, I won’t,” he says firmly, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he glances between both of his parents, hoping, wishing that maybe they’ll see that this isn’t a good idea.
“Maitan, you don’t understand,” Neytiri says softly. “When you and ________ were born, Ewya gave us a sign.”
Neteyam’s blood runs cold. 
“So this has already been decided?” he asks, voice eerily steady. 
“Not necessarily,” Jake interjects. “We didn’t want you two to feel like you were being forced to be together so we hoped that encouraging you both to spend time together would allow something to develop…” 
“But they haven’t, so now it’s a not-so-silent push,” he says shortly. 
His parents share another look and he feels annoyance beginning to form in his gut. 
“We wouldn’t say that there aren’t any feelings there,” Neytiri says. 
Neteyam breathes a humorless laugh as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“I don’t feel anything for her,” he says with finality. “Nothing about a union with her piques my interest. We’ve been in close proximity since birth but my heart feels more for the trees in the forest than it ever will for ________.” 
Jake squeezes his eyes shut. 
“Have you thought about giving her a chance?” he pushes. “She’s a lovely girl, really likes you.” 
That draws another huff of humorless laughter from Neteyam. 
“The only thing she’s interested in is status and being tsahik,” Neteyam scoffs. “There is nothing there.” 
Neytiri opens her mouth to say something, but Neteyam has mustered up as polite an excuse as he can as he stands to his feet and bows his head to his parents. 
When he ducks from the tent, he doesn’t expect to see you lingering outside of the exit.
His face morphs as the quiet words leave your lips. 
“You doubt my affections for you.” It’s a statement and a question wrapped in one, but you’re resigned, like always, and Neteyam can’t seem to grasp what you’re trying to get at clinging to him, to whatever this dynamic is. 
“What’s this game you’re playing?” he accuses, eyes narrowed. 
“What game?” you ask, gaze unfaltering as you stare up at him with those round golden eyes. 
He lets out a frustrated sigh. 
“Our entire lives, from being kids to now, you’ve toyed with me,” he says fiercely. “With this idea of us. Why? I’ve given you no reasons to be fond of me, yet you’re always here, there, everywhere.” 
“I have much to be fond of,” is your simple answer and Neteyam could groan in frustration. 
“Like what? Being the olo’eyktan’s son? Holding the future of this clan in my hands?” he asks sharply. 
“I would love you, circumstances withstanding,” you respond. “You don’t have to be afraid.” 
Love. 
What an odd concept, weird. One that Neteyam can’t seem to wrap his mind around when it comes to you. Doesn’t think he ever will. 
“Afraid of what?” he bites. 
“Of loving me back,” you say. 
He grimaces like the very thought disgusts him, like you’re an aversion he desperately wants to rid of. And perhaps you are, you realize, seeing years of pent up frustration and anger culminating into one big wound ready to rupture. 
“You think I love you?” he asks incredulously. 
He doesn’t miss the way you shrink, blinking quickly. 
“If you gave us a chance, maybe,” you whisper.
It sounds like the conversation with his parents all over again and realization seems to shutter across his features as he looks down at you. 
“How long have you known?” 
“Known what?” you ask quietly. 
“How long have you known that they’re trying to force us to be together?” he asks. 
You’re silent for a moment before muttering something under your breath. 
“What?” he snaps.
“They aren’t forcing us,” you clear your throat. “Not me, at least.” 
He scoffs. 
“Of course,” he mocks. “Because it only matters what you want out of this. Not that for the last decade I’ve been trying to get you to back off, trying to get you to understand that I don’t want this. I don’t want us, and if it means forfeiting my responsibilities, then so be it.” 
It’s a lofty statement, one that seals the last nail on your coffin. 
You’d loved Neteyam for as long as you can remember, have probably liked him for longer. When your parents told you early on that Eywa had given both of your families a sign that you and Neteyam were meant for one another, you’d embraced the idea wholeheartedly. Loved the idea of loving him even through moments when he’d try to drive a wedge between the two of you. 
Give him time, your parents had said to you. Jake and Neytiri want his feelings to develop naturally. 
And you waited. God, you waited, for so long. Waited for him to come around, to realize the things he did to you. Perhaps you had been too presumptuous, thinking that he’d be able to read you behind such a stoic facade, afraid that if you revealed too much of your wanting, you’d turn him off from the idea of being with you. 
But as you stand here before him, small under such a burning gaze, you realize that it’d been wishful thinking. Choosing him meant nothing if he didn’t choose you back. 
“I see…” you trail off quietly.
“Do you?” he asks, tone facetious. 
You nod once, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to see that his expression twitches the tiniest amount when he clocks the way your body seems to deflate.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.” 
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His following days are quiet, filled with personal duties and commitments to the clan. He’d expected you to sleep off the night’s confrontation, he certainly had, a twinge of guilt searing his gut.
But you’re good at hiding, good at masking your feelings, good at disappearing. It doesn’t bother him at the beginning, figuring that you need your space, but then it’s a dull ache that ebbs into a grating gnaw as his every other thought flits to you and what you could be doing now that you’ve settled such a wide distance between himself and his family. 
“You are injured a lot more these days,” Mo’at observes, slathering the viscous mixture over a cut between his shoulder blades. 
He remains silent, doesn’t know how to admit that he’d been far more reckless these past few days in the hopes that he’d run into you in his grandmother’s quarters. A silent yearn to feel your skilled fingers work over his wounds, tender as you try to pry your way into his heart. 
Mo’at had been the one you spent the most time with, diligently training in the chance that Neteyam would finally see you, would make you his. But right now, you’re nowhere to be found and all he’s rewarded with is his grandmother’s rough hands and inquisitive gaze.
“She made this salve,” Mo’at says, filling the silence with idle talk. “Found a recipe that speeds healing and softens the skin.” 
“Did she?” Neteyam responds absently, imagining you picking and pruning the herbs yourself, frame languid as you move through the brush. 
“Said she didn’t want her lover to have such tough skin.” 
There’s laughter in his grandmother’s voice, but he can’t find it in himself to see the humor in the situation. Not when he’s beginning to see that maybe he’s not just another rung in the ladder for you, that duty is the most miniscule drop in your bucket.  
“Where’s ________?” he asks after a moment, hissing through his teeth when his grandmother’s fingers prod the wound. 
“Taking a break from her studies to assist Ama with the children,” she answers, and he misses the knowing look in her eyes. She pats his shoulder when she’s done patching him up. “She’s a fine young woman, Neteyam. Many of the villagers do not turn a blind eye to that fact. If she is not the one that your heart desires, give her the opportunity to align with one that does.” 
It makes something ugly, green, roil in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you being the subject of houndish eyes. You’re too reserved, too sweet, too devoted to be anyone else’s. 
And the thought floors him, makes the knot growing obnoxiously in his throat choke the air from his lungs. 
“Yeah,” he agrees in a whisper. 
And he knows that his grandmother is right. Knows that he shouldn’t be asking about you, doesn’t have the right to hold you hostage if the union is something that truly unsettles him. But the thought of letting go of whatever the two of you have is surprisingly indigestible. 
Neteyam is frustrated, thoroughly disoriented now that all he can think of is you. He’d tried everything under the sun to shake you, to get you to throw your cards in first, but now that you have, it’s like you tug on a string tethered to his hellish heart. 
He stands to his feet and turns to face Mo’at, giving a respectful nod before exiting the tent. 
It’s wrong, he knows it, seeking you out after burning every bridge between the two of you, but he can’t help it. Can’t help but enter the clearing in the forest carved through with a stream that the little ones play in. 
You’re exactly where his grandmother had said you were, sitting near the edge of the bubbling waters with Ama, a girl a few years your senior. The children are giggling, laughing as they splash each other, splash you. The expression on your face falters a little, stern as you adjust the netting strapped to your chest. 
The air is trapped in his lungs as he realizes. Sees the little head that peeks from the top of the fabric, ear pressed to your heart as you cover the baby’s head from the children’s gleeful laughter. 
“That’s not very nice,” you say gently. “Your little sister is trying to sleep.” 
Your voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck prick, a soft rasp that’s haunted him for the last few sleepless nights. It’s odd, seeing you in this light, relaxed from your lack of duties. You’re in your element like this, smiling and coddling the children of the clan as they climb over you and poke and prod. 
“Teyam!” One of them clocks him before he can retreat and his spine is going stiff, stomach turning when he sees the way your expression melts. 
“Hi,” he greets simply, unable to form anything more solid in the fears that he’ll spook you. 
The kids start emerging from the stream one by one, surrounding him as he takes a few tentative steps into the clearing. 
“Neteyam,” Ama greets cordially, eyes flitting between the two of you as you busy yourself with the little one strapped to your chest. 
Neteyam, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes off of you. He’s silently pleading with Eywa, with whatever other force lies out of reach that you’ll just look at him. But you’re locked up tighter than a vault, obviously still reeling from the confrontation all those days ago. 
He hums your name, gentle like a prayer. Your eyes are hesitant, watching the snoozing baby in your arms before glancing at the remaining children in the stream before finally meeting his longing gaze. 
“Can we talk?” he asks you, flashing one of the curious kids a brief smile when they tug on the hem of his loincloth. 
Your response is far more blunt than he’d expected, taken aback when you murmur a firm, “No.”
He supposes that he deserves that, has earned the warmth that eclipses over his cheeks as the children watch the exchange with inquisitive eyes. And the way you stand to your feet to wrangle the village’s little ones is merited, telling them that playtime is over. 
But as Ama helps you gather their things, sensing the obvious tension between you and the olo’eyktan’s son, he realizes that he can’t just let this go. He won’t. Not without making things right, without telling you that loving you isn’t the hard part, it could never be. 
But agency is something his parents have withheld from him his entire life, molded him into being the perfect son that bends to the clan’s every beck and call. Loving you was just another thing to add to the list of things he did for everyone else’s sake but his own.
He sees now, though, sees that loving you, being in love with you isn’t a difficult feat. Not when he’s been given the smallest glance into what having a future could be like with you. Especially not when he’s learned so many things about you in the moments where you’re a fleeting plume of smoke that surrounds and chokes him all the same. 
He calls your name again, firm this time around. There’s a stutter in your step, he sees the way your shoulders draw taut with a labored sigh. 
You murmur something to Ama, undoing the ties to the netting that carries the dozing infant. Neteyam watches as you shush the kids, reminding them to be good to their tsmuke on their journey through the forest. 
Your fingers are gentle as you tie the last knot, brushing Ama’s shoulders lightly as you tell her you’ll catch up with her shortly. 
When they’re out of earshot, clambering back into the village circle, you turn on your heel, standing on the opposite side of the embankment. The glittering waters gurgle between the two of you as you wait patiently for Neteyam to muster his courage. 
“About our union,” he starts. “I–” 
“I’ve told my parents to forgo the preparations,” you say softly, seemingly unbothered as you pay more attention to the blades of grass that tickle your ankles. 
Neteyam’s spine stiffens.
“Why would you…” 
“You don’t want this,” you repeat his words from the fall out. “You don’t want us. We’ll both be unhappy.” 
It makes his heart squeeze. 
“You would be so unhappy in our union?” he scoffs, like he’s cracked the code. 
He doesn’t expect the humorless laugh that spills past your lips, obviously laden with tears when he focuses hard enough. 
“Of course I would, Neteyam,” you say fiercely, quietly. “I have spent so much of my life being so disgustingly in love with you when all you’ve wanted was me gone. Do you really think I’d let myself suffer at the expense of someone who would rather be alone than be forced to spend time with the likes of me.” 
You make it sound horrible. And perhaps it was, being so taken by someone who’s life mission was to sever every carefully stitched tie.
He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s coming to terms with the fact that maybe he’s been gravely mistaken this entire time. 
“So have your freedom,” you say chillingly. “I surrender.” 
He’s closing the distance between the two of you, splashing through the shallow river to root you to place, fingers wrapped tightly around your elbow. 
You snatch away from his grasp, turning so sharply, he stumbles back. The pad of your finger pokes harshly into his chest, tear-filled eyes brimming as your gaze searches his face. 
“Don’t be heartless,” you hiss. “If there is one thing I will ask of you it is to leave me alone.” 
The distance between the two of you widens as you pluck your bow and quiver nearby and rush off into the brush, leaving Neteyam in the quieting clearing to allow the weight of your words sink to his bones. 
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He doesn’t know how long he stands there, watching the same spot you’d disappeared past, but the forest is beginning to glow and he should be home soon. 
The entire encounter puts him on edge as he climbs through the foliage, moving over fallen logs and blooming flora. His muscles are taut, shoulders tight as he maps the long route back home.
It’s only when a sudden crack in the distance sounds that he becomes aware of how still the forest seems around him, like there are eyes and ears watching his every move. 
A look in the sky reveals a darkening swathe of midnight, leaves gleaming from outstretched branches. As he surveys his surroundings, his ears prick, picking up the most minute of sounds, rhythmic against the dense grass. 
His hand is on his dagger in an instant, eyes wild as he holds his breath. The pulse is nearing, almost insignificant against the backdrop of nature’s call, but something isn’t right and it makes nausea stir in his stomach. 
He blinks once, twice, before something closes over his mouth and a body seems to fuse against his back. 
“It’s me.” Your voice is ragged, hushed against the shell of his ear, and he nearly melts, fingers loosening from around the hilt of his knife. 
“I–” 
“Don’t speak,” you warn. “They are near.” 
He tenses again as you move your bodies behind a curtain of green, off the trodden path. 
“There are five of them,” you whisper and he shivers something fierce. “Two down, three on foot.” 
After years of training from his father, he knows who they are. 
“How did you…why do you–” 
“You didn’t return to the village,” you hiss. 
His heart skips a beat, thrumming because even if you’d been angry at him, you’d noticed his absence. Had gone looking for him, even. He turns to face you, wants to tell you that he’d do anything to make things right, but he realizes that now’s not a good time. 
You’re pale, gravely so, a feral look in your eyes as you grasp at your left side. 
Blood. You’re bleeding. 
“What the fuck?” 
“Stop,” you breathe shakily. “Not now.” 
“________, you’re wounded!” he protests. 
You slap a hand over his mouth, golden eyes widening as you press closer to him. 
He takes the opportunity to peer over your shoulder in pursuit of an exit wound and sighs when he finds the skin still intact. 
“You’re hurt,” he tries again, grabbing the wrist clutching your side. 
You shake your head vehemently. 
“Stop it, Neteyam,” you plead hoarsely. “We need to get rid of them before they find the village.” 
You’re right, he realizes, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he notes the tremble of your lip and the furrow between your brows. 
“Okay,” he swallows, nodding hesitantly. “Okay.” 
“Near the Tree of Souls,” you tell him, knees shaky as you draw an arrow and load your bow. 
You creep forward slowly, willowy frame shielding Neteyam as you move through the forest. 
He barely notices, only sees it when you pause a moment too long, body twitching as the bow quivers in your loosening grasp. 
“________?” Neteyam’s voice is testing, closing the berth. 
Your bow lowers, fingers brushing over the wound once again. When you assess the wetness of the pads of your fingers, Neteyam’s able to get a good look at the damage. 
His eyes widen, grabbing your shoulders tightly when he sees that your eyes are drooping. 
“Wait,” he says sharply. “Don’t—”
Your bloody hand brushes his chin. 
“Make sure…make sure they are…” 
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“She must rest.” 
“It will only be for a moment.” 
The words slur together, distant and muddy as your eyes flicker open to assess your surroundings. 
“Maite, you are awake.” Your mother kneels next to you, expression a picture of harrowing concern. “Oh, Eywa, I’m glad you are awake.” 
It returns in waves, like the ebb and flow of water dousing you. The enemy, in bodies like your own, ruthless to creatures both gentle and roaring. Clothed like humans with gear so imposing, you nearly shrunk with such a small bow and only enough arrows to make each shot count. 
You’d taken out two of them with shaky hands before their hailing bullets pierced the trunks of trees and left gaping holes in the leaves. One had landed, lodged its way right above the left side of your pelvis. 
It aches as you sit up, seeing the aftermath of what must have been a grisly extraction. 
“Stop, stop,” your mother says quickly, hands on your shoulders to guide you back. “You will disturb Mo’at’s work.” 
“There are more of them,” you rush. “They are–” 
“Shh, my child,” she coaxes. “They are gone.” 
It had been a horrific sight, seeing Neteyam carrying you back to the village, limp and listless, covered in the blood of multiple parties with a nearly animalistic look in his eye. 
“Where is Neteyam?” you whisper, lashes wet. 
The look on your mother’s face softens with pity, knowing, as she sees it written all over your face. 
She’d known it before and she’d known it after you approached her and your father with the request to call off the union. 
I don’t love him, you’d said, unable to meet their eyes as you confessed. Eywa’s made a mistake with us. I want to be with someone that I love.
You’d been embarrassed, wanted to save face. You didn’t want them to know that the only man you’d ever known from adolescence to young adulthood hadn’t wanted a thing to do with you. 
“I’m here.” 
Neteyam’s entering the tent with your father hot on his heels, obviously defying his wishes to leave you be. 
His forearm is wrapped in medicinal leaves, tied off with thin vine. A cut slices his brow bone, the wound still red and raw. 
“I told you–” 
Your mother shoots your father a contemptuous look before turning to you to smooth some of the hair away from your face. 
“Eywa makes no mistakes, Maite,” she whispers, gaze pleading. 
She’s on her feet, crossing the tent to meet Neteyam half way. With a comforting squeeze to his shoulder, she pushes your protesting father through the hide and suddenly the air is shrouded in silence save for your labored breathing and the weight of the eldest Sully’s gaze. 
“I thought I lost you,” Neteyam says, the tiniest inflection of trembling pricking your ears. 
You blink, watching as he stands at the end of the mat. He’s fidgeting but his eyes are searing, shaking with tears as he stares at you unblinking—like you’ll disappear between the shutter of his heavy eyelids. 
You don’t know what to say, the lump lodged in your throat far too thick for you to form coherent words around. 
Neteyam continues for the both of you. 
“I thought that I wouldn’t…that I…” 
You watch as he crumbles. 
“Wouldn’t what?” you finally ask, voice dry. 
“I thought that I wouldn’t be able to give us a chance.” 
Your jaw tenses, breaking eye contact first as you shake your head in defeat. 
“There isn’t an us,” you sigh shakily. “Said so yourself.” 
“Oh, come on,” Neteyam scoffs, voice thick with tears. “Don’t do that.” 
“Do what?” you argue, clutching your injured side as it pulses with every beat of your thundering heart. 
“Don’t—don’t give up on me yet,” he whispers. “Please.” 
Your expression crumples and his face falls as you knuckle your tears away angrily. 
“You’re cruel, Neteyam. So so cruel,” you murmur. “I am ashamed that you have my heart.” 
The words are spoken with a quiet vindication that makes Neteyam feel like his nerve endings are fraying. A singular tear arcs over the swell of your cheek and an ache roots in his gut. 
“Don’t say that,” he says, throat bobbing as he swallows the emotion threatening to bubble over. “I–” 
“Neteyam.” Your father’s voice is stern, the flap of the tent flipping as he reenters. 
Neteyam bites the inside of his lip as he spares you one last glance and your resolve dissipates when the broad expanse of his back faces you. 
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You’d expected Neteyam taking his leave to be some semblance of closure for the two of you, as clean of a break as you could come to terms with now that any precarious ties that bound the two of you were severed. But you hadn’t anticipated the singular ember inside of Neteyam fanning to be engulfing and all-consuming. 
“I know you’re there,” you say simply, plucking the petals and leaves from the flora to tuck into the small pouch strung across your chest. 
He’d been following you all afternoon, lingering a safe distance away, but his eyes haven’t left your healing frame and what had initially been confusion began to bleed into annoyance. 
“Pay me no mind,” he says simply, emerging from the brush with a bow and quiver.
It’s been over a week since the sky people had infiltrated your corner of the forest and Neteyam hasn’t let you leave his sight once.
From the morning eclipse to the evening’s, Neteyam’s doted on you; shearing chunks of fruit, grinding down your herbs for your treatments, rewrapping your wound under Mo’at’s careful supervision. 
You’d asked him to give you a moment of peace in the forest alone, but it wasn’t long before you scented him, heard his labored breathing as he tried to keep up with you. 
You heed his word, stonewalling his presence like he’s nothing but another leaf stretching from the trees. And for a while, a long stretch of silence surrounds the two of you as you venture deeper and deeper into the forest. 
But before you know it, each one of your steps is exchanged like for like, his looming and muscular frame eclipsing you like a shadow as you try to ignore the fact that he’s drawing nearer. 
You turn on your heel to face him just as he settles a pace away, eyes clear and golden. 
“What?” you snip, taking a step back. 
He takes a step forward. 
“You should not overexert yourself,” he replies simply. 
“And what happened to paying you no mind?” 
His fingers brush your sore wound and your gaze flits to the way his fingertips ghost over the dressing wrapped around the expanse of your lower abdomen. 
The grin he gives you has many layers. You immediately decipher something sly, coy, as he searches your face. 
“I’ve changed my mind,” he says quietly. “I want you to pay me all the mind.” 
Your expression is dry, eyes rolling as you step away from him. You’re swatting his palm away and shaking your head like a final warning. 
“You don’t get to flirt with me after all this time,” you say, blanketing the semi-tense air with a cover of finality. “And you shouldn’t. There is no longer an obligation for us to be within vicinity of each other.” 
You sound so cold, like you hadn’t spent the past decade pining after him in your own weird way. Like you hadn’t turned a blind eye when he found comfort in hopeful women despite wearing your heart on your oddly-stitched sleeve. Hadn’t been so willing to spend forever with him.
“You cannot dictate the turn of my heart,” Neteyam argues. 
The look you give him could instill fear in even the most intimidating predators. 
“You’d go to great lengths to quell a guilty conscience?” you ask. “Do not forget that forever is a long time. If nothing about our union piques your interest now, do not count on anything in the future.” 
You’re feeling for buttons to push, tender spots that will make him let up, but Neteyam isn’t easily swayed. He doesn’t know if he loves you now, but the last few weeks make certain that he will. He isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s falling fast and hard.  
“You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, yawne.” 
The nickname makes you freeze, makes your eyes narrow as you glare up at the future olo’eyktan. 
“Don’t be insufferable, Neteyam.” 
“Duties be damned, I’ll spend every remaining moment doing right by you,” he says, fingers threading through yours so that he can bring your knuckles to his lips. 
Your heart wavers and he sees the way the curtain falls, eyes a fraction softer. 
He grins, tugging you closer. Moves your hair over your shoulder then skims his fingers along the sharpness of your jaw. 
It draws a shiver from you as you shift nervously, gaze fluttering from his eyes to the plush of his mouth. 
“Stop,” you whisper meekly. “We–”
“You’re mine, you hear me?” His voice is raw, edge melting away. “Union or no union. It’s always going to be you and me.” 
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undertheorangetree · 7 months
Text
Competition
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Summary- Aemond is a big fan of healthy competition.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Modern AU. Mutual edging. Handjob. Fingering. Blowjob. Surprisingly fluffy?? Straight up porn.
Author's Note- I wrote this instead of studying for my midterm lmao. This was a request and therefore a tumblr special so I'm posting the full story here below the cut :)
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Usually, she finds the competitive nature of her relationship funny.
Aemond has always been competitive. Whether it was a board game amongst friends or trivia night at the pub or something as simple as an arm wrestle, he loved to win. Most of the time, she found the trait endearing and knew it was a habit she shared, especially when he was there to egg her on.
But it is at times like this she thinks perhaps his need for competition has gotten out of hand. Laying naked on their shared bed, Aemond on his knees beside her with his hand between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out of her ceaselessly. Her hand is wrapped around his cock, doing her best to match his pace even while the pleasure his hand is wringing from her licks up her spine, leaving her dizzy and half boneless. He had gotten it into his head that even this had to be a competition, that whoever forced the other to beg to come first would be declared the winner. She doesn't even remember what they're playing for, not now, but she does know that losing is not an option.
Already, they’ve denied each other twice, pulling the other away in their attempt to win. Despite the desperation that is sitting heavy in her gut, her cunt already hyper sensitive and the feeling only getting worse, she can’t make herself look away from Aemond’s face. His eyes are half lidded, the pupil in his real eye blown wide and turning the blue near black, chest heaving with every breath. His hips buck into her hand weakly, matching her strokes as if he wants nothing more than to let the bliss of it pull him under, his need to win the only thing holding him back. She’ll never get tired of that look, the way his features have gone soft and pliant as pleasure runs through him. She wants to immortalize it, stamp it in her mind’s eye and look at it forever.
She knows she looks just as desperate as he does, legs shaking as she feels her orgasm racing toward her. He keeps a steady pace, the sound of her cunt all but echoing through the room while his thumb circles her clit. It’s almost insulting, how well he is working her up even while she does the same to him. She had half hoped that the pleasure running through him would be some kind of distraction but he seems laser focused, staring between her legs as if he never wants to look away. And she's so close. She can feel it right there, knows that if he keeps going she'll fall over the edge, but just as her orgasm is about to run over her, she knocks his hand away. A desperate whine leaves her, hips bucking up to chase his hand despite having been the one to push it away, and she hears him let out a low groan, his wet fingers closing around her knee.
"Fuck, look at you." His other hand comes up to brush across her tits as if he can't stand the thought of not touching her, catching her nipple between his fingers. She jerks, knowing that was more calculated than it was loving, and slaps his hand away irritably. It doesn’t deter him. "You can give up any time you want, baby, just say the word."
Though she's breathless, frustration and disappointment churning in her gut, she knows he hears the petulance in her voice when she says, "Same goes for you, baby."
He grins, hand falling back between her legs again to play with her clit. There's a smugness there she doesn't like, as if he's sure that she will be the one to beg first, and she decides to wipe the arrogance from his face. Turning slightly, she shuffles a little closer, licking the weeping tip of his cock and before sucking the head into her mouth, fist still pumping at the base. She looks up at him with big doe eyes, trying to look as innocent as she can with his cock in her mouth, and very nearly grins at what she sees.
The effect it has on him is almost immediate. His stomach tenses, mouth dropping open and hand going momentarily still as he watches her, black swallowing the blue of his eye whole. She takes full advantage of his distraction, taking him into her mouth a little deeper and hollowing her cheeks. She knows him, knows every mannerism he has just before he falls apart, and she knows from the look on his face and the way he starts thrusting helplessly into her mouth that he's half a second away from finishing.
Unfortunately, he notices it too and she feels his hand in her hair, tugging her gently off his cock with a frustrated groan. A thin cord of spit connects her to him and he lets out an almost pitiful moan at the sight of it, bringing a grin to her face.
He almost sounds as though he's whining as he says, "You're cheating. Don't cheat."
She tilts her head as she takes him back in hand, reveling in the whimper he lets out. "Why? 'Cause you're gonna come?"
"Because I can't put my mouth on you. S'not fair."
She feels her grin broaden. "And we both know how much you like putting your mouth on me."
He very nearly growls at that before all but tackling her to the bed, forcing her onto her back once more. He kisses her hard, almost punishingly, and she moans into his mouth, both hands coming up to capture his face in her hands. She’s happy for the reprieve, the want burning between her legs too distracting, and takes her time kissing him, in feeling his lips pressing against her own.
"You're such a brat," he mutters against her mouth and she laughs, nipping at his bottom lip to further prove his point. His hand falls to spank her lightly in retaliation, making her jolt again before her own hand drops to find revenge in another way.
It takes him less than a second to follow suit, his fingers running through her to collect the arousal that’s gathered there before pushing a finger back inside her, crooking it up immediately to rub against the spot he knows makes her squirm. They’re both on their sides now and she slings her leg over his hip in an attempt to get more comfortable, still kissing him in the hopes that it will be enough to distract her from falling apart. It does little to help, the pleasure rolling to a boiling point in her belly. In any other circumstance, she would be grateful knowing that her boyfriend knew exactly how to touch her, how to work her up so perfectly, but now she knows that it will be her downfall unless she takes matters into her own hands.
Her mouth drops open, a moan escaping her when he begins circling her clit again, fast enough that her whole body shudders. Knowing now that she is sure to lose should he keep that up, she speeds up her hand in an attempt to bring him over the edge before her. She runs her thumb along the head of his cock, stroking at him faster, and fights the urge to giggle when he pulls away to moan, his head dropping to rest against her shoulder. His lips drag along the skin there, leaving lightning bolts of want in his wake, and her free hand comes up to twist in his hair, lifting herself up slightly.
“Please let me make you come,” she breathes near his ear, biting her lip when he moans faintly in response to it. “You look so pretty when you do. Just want to make you feel good, baby, please.”
She grinds down into his hand subconsciously, rolling her hips in her desperate need for more, and revels in the groan he lets out. She can feel herself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her, but she refuses to succumb to her want now. Once she wins, she will gladly keep him in this bed all night and let him do whatever he wants to her. But before then, she wants to watch him fall apart.
“C’mon. Be a good boy for me.”
That does it. He lets out another whiney sound, this one half a moan, as his brows knit together, bucking his hips up into her hand. She strokes at him quickly, once, twice, until he spills himself over her fist with another moan, thrusts stuttering as he finishes.
Though his hand stalled while he came, he picks up where he left off the moment he has recovered, not giving her any time to mourn the loss of her fading orgasm. His fingers comes back up to her clit, circling it as hard and fast as she can handle and pulling a yelp from her. His free hand falls to the leg that still rests across his hip, holding her in place as he rubs at her faster and faster, that familiar coil in the pit of her stomach snapping almost as quickly as it begins to form. She writhes beside him as her orgasm washes over her, a whine leaving her as her head tips back, giving him enough room to press a litany of open mouthed kisses across her throat.
All at once, the room falls silent, the faint droning of the TV in the next room still humming on where they left it. They’re both panting and Aemond turns onto his back, his hand keeping her leg splayed across his lap while he does it, a faint stretch burning in her thigh.
"I win," she announces breathlessly, wiping her hand clean of him before flopping onto her side, cheek pressing tight against his chest.
He vibrates under her face with a huffed laugh, his hand comes up to stroke at her hair mindlessly. "I think you already got your prize."
She turns her head up to meet his eye. "And if I want another one?"
He turns down to kiss her again. This time, it’s much gentler, all the desperation that had filled the air between them simmering down to nearly nothing. A part of her thinks that he may be content to simply lay here with her in their disheveled bed but then he reaches for her ass again, using his grip there to tug her to lay flat on top of him. His cock is already half hard between them and she feels the side of her mouth quirk up at the realization that he is, in fact, not quite done yet.
“That can be arranged.”
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815 notes · View notes
inkykeiji · 7 months
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characters: haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, consensual somnophilia, rough sex, implied poly relationship, minimal prep, lots of cum words: 1.4k
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the haitani brothers have fallen into a bit of a habit as of late. a nasty habit, a naughty habit, and, to them, a natural habit. 
or so they’ve told you. 
it’s become a part of their morning and nightly routines, the perfect way to start and end their days—by fucking you awake, and fucking you to sleep. 
they’ve got a sort of system going now, working in perfect sync just like they always do, falling into step with one another efficiently, effortlessly. 
as to be expected. 
despite his aversion to waking up, ran has taken the morning shift. he’s careful with it, cautious with it, rousing you slow and soft and sweet as he sinks his cock into you, breathing out an airy little sigh against the nape of your neck as he watches your cunt stretch and strain around his girth, as he finally bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix and hips pressed flush to your ass, balls nudging you gently. 
his favourite part will always be the way your face scrunches oh-so-cutely, features warped in pain—brow crinkled and nose crumpled—the moment he grinds himself into the sensitive mound of tissue, lazy and languid yet somehow still powerful and purposeful. his hips move in precise little gyrations, rubbing quick circles into your cervix until those stringy whines are oozing from your lips and soaking into your pillow, cheek still half-buried in the flesh.
those precious little sounds evolve into pitchy mewls and high moans, stammered by each hitch of your breath with each rub of his cock, climbing in volume and frequency as a dense pressure collects in the pit of your stomach, steadily pulling you further and further into consciousness.
ran presses his forehead to the crown of your head, rests it there and lets his eyes slip shut as he works into you, works to wake you up, gradual and gentle with shallow little thrusts, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging and rolling over that swollen spot buried deep within you—that spot he knows so well, that spot he relentlessly abuses with each and every sunrise, that spot that has you trembling and clenching and crying out his name as your cunt gushes slick all over him—so much, too much, and god, baby, you always make such a mess—sticky and slippery as it streams down his shaft and coats his thighs. 
and it’s only after this, after he’s sure your orgasm has smashed through your unconsciousness and left you wide awake with pleasant mush for brains, that he will really fuck you just the way he likes to; swift, smooth strokes of his cock as his hips jackhammer that sometimes have you convulsing on him for a second time as he spills himself into you, a gasp of your name beautiful and breathless on his tongue.
it’s rare that ran will actually get up with you, usually falling back asleep a mere moment or two after he’s filled you with his cum, but him being awake was never the goal. as long as it has you rolling out of bed on wobbly legs and with dollops of ivory rolling down your inner thighs, he has succeeded.  
resultantly, rindou has taken the night shift, though he doesn’t always come directly to bed even after he’s got your cream slathered all over his cock and your cunt stuffed full of his cum.  
rindou isn’t really sure why his brother bothers with dressing you in such pretty little silk slips and lacy babydolls every evening, especially when he knows rindou’s just going to ruin them, stain them with cum or tear through them with overeager, too-strong fingers, but he lets ran have his fun with you anyway, waiting patiently as ran plays dolly. 
but once you’re finally ready, teeth brushed and face washed and body outfitted in the cutest nightie money can buy (sans panties, of course), ran hands you off to his baby brother, often paired with an insouciant remark about being a little gentler this time—advice rindou never heeds, advice rindou accepts with equal apathy. 
because as much as ran spews out those nonchalant reprimands and requests, they both love seeing you covered in rindou—all four of his fingers and his thumb, collaring your neck or cuffing your wrist or painted across your ass; all thirty-two of his teeth, engraved into your inner thighs or stamped right over your heart, deep and dark and congealed with blood. 
besides, rindou argues, he has to be rough with you, has to fuck you hard and fast and so fucking ruthless—how else is he supposed to tire you out and get you to sleep? 
he has to give you an orgasm so absolutely earth shattering that you need to pass out, to slip into full unconsciousness, to piece your world back together. he has to fuck you until your muscles are heavy and your bones have liquified under the immense pleasure, body turned to pliable putty so he can twist and curl and knot you into whatever position he pleases. 
he has to fuck you until your words are nothing more that spit-soaked whines smeared across the sheets, until your lids are weighted with exhaustion and your lashes are bloated with tears, unable to stay open as your irises roll and reveal white, until your fingers go slack, cotton no longer tangled around your knuckles, grip loose and weak.  
and then he has to fuck you some more, just for good measure, of course, sculpted muscles in his thighs flexing beneath smooth skin as his hips pound and plunge with such force the entire bedframe shudders, jostling your whole body up the mattress, your arms shaking as they try to keep you steady and still while pushing back against his snapping thrusts, his abs rippling with each thrust, his chest swelling with ragged breaths and hoarse groans.
it’s when your tongue is sloppy and your words are messy and melty and mangled together in a single matted stream that rindou knows you’re close—to cumming and to passing out—brain gone so adorably stupid with lust, only capable of stitching together a weeped out patchwork of rin-rin-rin; yes-yes-yes. 
the head of his cock is assaulting that spot in perfect rhythm with your cute little chants, that spot that feels so good, rin, s’good, that spot he and his brother continually stain their names into in ivory and cream. 
you’re teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when your orgasm hits with all the intensity of a freight train, sending you tumbling over that cliff with a cracked gasp of his name, body gone rigid for a moment as pleasure seizes your form, little sparks of electricity zipping through your veins, blood left bubbling in their wake.
then you’re mollifying, sinking into the bed as his desire melts you to nothing, malleable in his palms as he molds you into whatever he needs.
a calm, deep slumber has already enveloped you by the time his cock is pulsing, pumping you full of thick cum—so much cum, too much cum, always, seeping out from around his shaft to roll down your ass and his thighs in fat beads of pearl, streaking your skin with shimmering streams of translucence. 
it’s so pretty, he’s breathing as he watches it with voracious pupils outlined in a thin ring of violet. you’re so pretty when you’re coated in him; his seed, his tongue, his touch, his teeth, stained across the canvas of your body.  
and even though he knows you won’t remember it by the time the sun is rising and his brother is fucking his cock into you, rindou takes his time to clean you up—to wash your skin and smooth down your pretty nightgown and swathe you in fluffy comforters, petting sweaty hair back from your forehead and temples, sealing his actions with chaste kisses. 
they’re not much, but he hopes they make up for some of the pain and soreness he’s stained into your body tonight—a soft, tender, silent thank you.  
he isn’t as good at it all as ran is, isn’t as thorough and meticulous and careful, but he does it nonetheless, because he enjoys it, because you deserve it, because he likes to take a moment or two just to admire you, on his own, alone, in the dead of the night. 
an angel. his angel. their angel. pretty and precious and perfect in every way.
they couldn’t ask for anything better. 
965 notes · View notes
quizzicalwriter · 7 months
Note
please please please do a part 3 for the older!ellie series. i can't hold out any longer, i get butterflies every time i re-read cola and haunted 😭
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Burning Desire
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Pairing: Older Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
Summary: Ellie’s made herself comfortable in your day to day life, ain’t that nice? Part three of the ‘Cola’ series. Find parts one and two here!
Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Fingering, oral, semi-public sex, rough & possessive themes. Some angst, just a smidge.
A/N: I’m so happy you guys like this series! Also if this wasn’t the room scenario you envisioned feel free to send another ask and I’ll include it in the next installment!
Word Count: 4.5k
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Twenty minutes, that’s all that separated you from Ellie. She’d counted, given that she made the trek to your campus on a near-daily basis. Her wife never questioned it, or if she did Ellie hadn’t been listening. All she could truly think about was you, your laugh, your smile - everything. Her obsessiveness over you might’ve warranted concern, but it never set off any warning bells in your mind, if anything Ellie’d noticed the way your thighs would clench together when she’d pull you closer to her side.
It was stupid, she knew that. She was twice your age and had a wife, but the past weeks spent between your thighs felt holy enough to cast away any built-up sins she’d worried about accruing. She’d feel sorry when she was dead, until then she’d listen to your moans of her name often enough to commit them all to memory, her sweet little hymn.
How could she stop herself? You’d practically skip whenever you caught sight of her in the campus parking lot, a wide smile on your face as you clutched your bag to your chest. She’d developed a habit of picking you up every Wednesday, the one day she was sure her wife would be gone for the better part of the day, certainly enough time to worship your body as you laid on her bed.
Just as you did every week, you bounded toward her truck, a giddy smile plastered across your face as you ran over. She leaned across the center console, opening the door for you to climb up into the beaten-up hunk of metal. You rambled about your day as you handed Ellie your bag, she tried her damndest to listen while tossing it into the backseat and starting up her truck.
“- I mean, it was crazy. You know?” You asked, and at that moment Ellie realized she hadn’t been paying attention in the slightest. She’d been paying attention to you, but not to the words coming out of your mouth. You sensed her confusion, playfully rolling your eyes as you crossed your legs beneath you. “Not listening to my rambling?”
Ellie breathed out a laugh, switching on her turn signal as she looked over to the adjacent street, her free hand squeezing your upper thigh. “I always listen.”
It was bullshit, you knew that, but it was cute nonetheless. You hummed in response, looking down at her hand as the midday sun poured in through the windows, casting a warm hue over her skin and yours. Her rings shone in the light, the cool metal rousing goosebumps along your thighs the farther up her touch went.
“Ellie.” You warned, looking at her out of your peripheral as you shifted in your seat, knowing exactly what she meant to do. She cleared her throat, giving your thigh a swat as she trailed her touch upward, sliding her fingers underneath the hem of your skirt and against your underwear with a short, “What?”
You tried to laugh, only to have the noise cut off by a whine as her fingers brushed against your folds through the thin fabric of your underwear, causing you to ache around nothing as she turned down a busy street. “We’re fifteen minutes from your place.”
Without missing a beat, Ellie smiled over at you, tone slick as she responded. “Fifteen minutes to make you cum.”
Before you could retort she’d pushed your underwear to the side, middle and ring finger circling your cunt, gathering your cum around the digits before pushing them in. You let your head fall back against the headrest, hand moving to hold onto her wrist as she slowly pumped her fingers inside of you.
You couldn’t tell whether you were thankful or pissed over the state of your hometown's roads, as Ellie seemed to drive over every bump she could find, effectively making you ride her fingers. You could hear the lewd squelch of her fingers pushing inside of you with each movement of her wrist.
Her thumb circled your clit as she turned onto another street, face completely neutral as she kept her focus on the road ahead. Anybody passing by wouldn’t have thought a thing, save for your screwed-together brows and the way you kept letting your head fall back to moan out her name in a way that had her shifting in her seat.
Even as the roads smoothed out you still bounced on her fingers, one hand grasping her wrist while the other grasped at the fabric of the seat, trying to steady yourself as your orgasm built in your lower stomach. Ellie’s eyes flickered over to you, sneaking every glance she could manage as your moans picked up an octave.
“Gonna cum?” She asked, a proud smile on her face as you nodded. As your cunt squeezed her fingers she let out a groan of her own, silently thanking God when she finally came across a red light. You’d leaned against her shoulder, thighs squeezing her forearm in place as she continued moving her fingers within you.
With a broken cry of her name, you came undone around her fingers, you’d hardly picked up the quiet praises she threw your way as she pulled into her neighborhood, keeping her fingers buried in your cunt all the while. You continued rocking your hips through your orgasm, practically a whimpering mess by the time she’d pulled into her driveway.
You’d half a mind to worry about whether or not your parents were home, it’d be beyond difficult to explain why your older, married neighbor drove you to and fro - especially given that you lived on campus. But as Ellie moved her fingers inside of you, purely by accident, as she pulled the keys out of the ignition, those worries fled your mind in favor of whatever else Ellie would give you before she’d have to drive you back to campus.
“Open.” She murmured, pulling her fingers out of your cunt before pressing them to your lips, watching in awe as you greedily took them into your mouth. The feeling of your tongue against her fingers could’ve made her cum alone, but the look in your eyes as she pushed her fingers further into your mouth made it damn near impossible for her to breathe.
“Fuck.” Was all she managed to breathe out as she removed her fingers from your mouth, eyes glued to yours as she watched you swallow your cum. She wasted no time in leaning forward to connect your lips, wanting to taste you on your tongue before she’d even brought you inside.
The sweet and earthy taste coated her tongue, making her desperate enough that she’d briefly considered laying you back against the backseat of her truck to eat you out in plain daylight. She’d only had the strength to deny herself when you pulled away to catch your breath, eyes bleary with want as you wetted your lips, tasting whatever remained of her on your lips.
“So fuckin’ filthy.” She laughed out, taking a moment to fill her lungs full of air before leaning over the center console to open your door, doing the same for hers a second later. You responded with a pleased hum, hopping out of the truck before adjusting your skirt. Your eyes roamed over to your parent's house, noticing that only your mom was home - hopefully, she was sleeping and wasn’t out on the porch.
Either way, you decided not to risk it, quickly maneuvering around the front of Ellie’s truck to follow her inside. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in your chest as Ellie tried to readjust her jeans, surely having soaked through her boxers in the process of watching you ride her fingers. As odd as it was, you felt more comfortable in Ellie’s home than you had anywhere else, despite the photos of her wife that lingered amongst the walls.
Maybe it was Ellie’s presence, her scent that coated the blankets and jackets hung up near the door, or possibly a combination of the two along with the memories of her fucking you on nearly every surface in the house. You kicked your shoes off near the front door, the two of you talking about something insignificant as you both moved to the living room.
Her arm circled your waist as you both plopped down onto the couch, her thumb rubbing soft circles into your hip bone as you both continued talking. Ellie found herself in the same daze she’d been in earlier, utterly entranced by the way you stared up at her and smiled whenever you’d mention something funny.
“Ellie-“ You whined, palming at her chest as you feigned a frown, having caught her not paying attention for the second time. She chuckled, free hand grasping yours before bringing it to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on your fingers with a murmured, “Sorry, baby. What were you saying?”
You bit back a smile, not wanting to let up on the upset charade you had going. So you tilted your head back, playing the role of an exasperated housewife as your eyes fluttered shut. “I was talking about something so important.”
“Oh yeah? What was it?” She responded in a low chuckle, moving her arm from your back to drape it over your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she looked down at you, enjoying the pity party you were throwing for yourself.
“Was telling you how I’ve never really dated anyone, I’m like a baby when it comes to that stuff. My friends have tried-“ Before you could finish your tirade Ellie covered your mouth, a mix of confusion and excitement heavy on her face as she responded with a giddy, “You haven’t dated anyone? Ever? You’re a college student, babe. The fuck are you doin’ all day?”
With a groaned-out laugh, you pushed her hand down from your mouth, tilting your head back against the plush backrest of the couch. “For your information-“ You started, words lifted with laughter. “I happen to study and go to class!”
“So innocent, huh?” She teased, something rather lascivious hidden in her tone as she brushed the back of her fingers against the swell of your cheek. “Never dated anyone, so precious.”
You huffed out a laugh, unable to hide the growing flush against your cheeks the longer she gazed down at you. “Not all innocent-“ You mumbled, eyes flickering down to your lap where your thighs shifted. “I’ve had sex before you, just didn’t date is all.”
Ellie hummed, you couldn’t tell whether the tone was one of disapproval or intrigue as she continued to stroke the side of your face, thumb drifting along the curvature of your bottom lip. She then pressed her thumb to your lips, looking down at you expectantly. You parted your lips, taking her thumb into your mouth before gently sucking it. The feeling of your tongue curling around the pad of her thumb caused her breath to catch in her chest, arousal settling heavily in her lower stomach the longer you kept her gaze.
“So good with your tongue.” She whispered, having difficulty keeping her eyes on yours in favor of watching your cheeks hollow around her thumb. “Wonder how good it’d feel on me.”
A hot rush pulsed through your body, thrumming steadily in your cunt at her words. The thought of being between her legs, her fingers tangled in your hair as she used your tongue to get herself off, you couldn’t help the whine against her digit as you grew desperate to taste her.
“You’d like that, huh?” She laughed out, eyebrows raising slightly at the genuine intrigue in your eyes. “Alright, get on your knees.”
You pulled off of her thumb, giving the tip of her finger a gentle kiss before sinking to your knees before her. Her hands moved slowly, almost teasing you as she unbuttoned her jeans, tilting her head to the side as she lifted her hips to kick the denim off, all the while your eyes stayed locked on her bottom half.
Impatience swelled in your mind as you bit at the inside of your cheek, squirming on your knees in hope of easing the ache between your legs. Sensing your restlessness she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her boxers, slipping them down and off her legs before scooting herself closer to the edge of the seat. You could see the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took, her appearance flushed as her fingers tapped against the fabric of the couch.
“You haven’t done this before, have you?”
You shook your head, wetting your lips as you scooted yourself closer to the edge of the couch, knees bumping into the furniture. She smiled down at you, a huff of air leaving her as she parted her thighs, hand smoothing up your neck to thread her fingers through the back of your hair.
“Then let me use that pretty tongue.”
You were so obedient with the way you rested your hands against her splayed thighs, eyes locked on hers, those pretty doe-eyes that she could melt in for the rest of her life if God would be so kind. She drank in that look, that lingering innocence in your face as you licked a tentative stripe up her cunt. She let out a hiss of breath, eyelids fluttering as her hold on your hair tightened.
You only knew what she’d done to you so many times before, so you did your damndest to mimic it, swirling your tongue around her clit before swiping your tongue between her folds, all but drinking her cum as it coated your tongue. A drawn-out moan fell from her lips, pulling one from you as well as her hips rocked, pushing her cunt further against your tongue.
Her taste was divine, her moans of your name even more so. You could feel your clit throb, juices soaking your underwear the longer you stayed between her thighs. With a grunt she pulled you closer, effectively riding your face, and you were all too happy to let her. Your right hand slunk between your thighs, pushing your skirt up and to the side along with your underwear, your fingers finding home against your cunt less than a second later.
A languid moan fell past your lips as you slipped your middle and ring finger into your cunt, mimicking Ellie’s pace as she rutted against your face, her head rolled back against the backrest of the couch. Cum pooled around your fingers, dripping into your palm as you thrusted your fingers into yourself, rocking your hips against your palm, giving yourself enough friction against your clit to leave you moaning against her cunt.
“Gonna make me cum, baby.” She drawled out, words breathless as her hips twitched against you. You hummed, feeling your orgasm coil tight in your lower stomach. She practically used your tongue to get herself off, and all it did was spur your orgasm forward until you were cumming around your fingers, a wanton moan falling past your lips as you sucked her clit into your mouth. Her grip on your hair tightened to an almost painful degree as her orgasm swept through her, her back arching from the couch as she moaned your name.
You continued your movements, fingers still pumping idly in your still twitching cunt as she rode out her orgasm against your eager tongue. She sagged against the couch as she caught her breath, her hand falling from your hair to cup your jaw, thumb brushing affectionately against your skin. You wetted your lips, wanting to taste all of her as you leaned into her touch.
“Did so good, you know that?” She whispered, a soft grunt leaving her lips as she shifted her hips back against the couch, patting the cushion beside her, wanting to feel you curled into her side. You quickly obliged, moving to sit down beside her as she circled an arm around your back, hand brushing along your upper arm as she rested her cheek against the top of your head.
The taste of her lingered on your tongue, forever engrained in your memory. It would surely flood your mind when you found yourself without her, secluded in your dormitory with nothing else to occupy your time than to rut into your palm in hope of recreating her perfect touch.
You were snatched from the depths of your daydreams by Ellie pushing her shoulder against you, her laughter filling your ears as she bent forward and grabbed her clothes from the floor.
“C’mon, daydreamer. Gotta get you back to your dorm.”
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The drive back to your dormitory was always the same, filled with never-ending silence and looks from Ellie that spoke magnitudes without ever uttering a thing. You weren’t sure if you preferred the silence over Ellie trying to explain her situation, the whole “I’m married” tirade lasted a whopping three days before you’d grown tired of it and asked her to stop.
Instead, you got silence, silence, and a gentle grasp of your upper thigh as she maneuvered through the streets. She’d take longer drives back, insisting on wanting to avoid traffic but you both knew it stemmed from neither of you wanting to say goodbye. As you passed by houses filled with families and lovers you found your gaze shifting over to her, watching as she kept her eyes ahead.
Ellie hated it, hated the predicament she’d thrown you into, and hated herself for not being able to turn you away. She should’ve been happy with her wife, but she wasn’t, they hadn’t been for a long time. Ellie’d confided in you about the woes of her marriage roughly a week into your ‘situationship’ or whatever the hell things like that were called. You’d been understanding, something she hadn’t been expecting if she were to be honest. But you were, and it made the whole ordeal that much difficult to distance herself from.
She’d been driving autonomously, mind somewhere else entirely when you’d swatted at her forearm that still rested against the center console with a laugh. With a sigh she unbuckled her seatbelt, waiting for you to do the same before joining you on the short trek back to your dorm room. Nobody ever stared, everyone on campus was dealing with their shit and didn’t care enough to eavesdrop - something Ellie appreciated deeply.
As you both stepped into the rickety elevator, she felt the back of your fingers brush against hers, wordlessly seeking her touch as you readied yourselves to part for another week. She didn’t return it, instead keeping her eyes locked on the dinging numbers above the elevator doors, mouthing along the number to each passing floor until the doors sprung open. You stepped out first, avoiding her gaze as you fished your keys from your back pocket, muttering something about your roommate under your breath that Ellie didn’t quite pick up.
When the doors opened to reveal your dorm room empty, Ellie couldn’t stop the flutter of hope that sparked in her chest. She followed you into the room, kicking her shoes off near the door just as you had, her eyes watching as you moved over to your bed, plopping yourself down onto the thin mattress like a marionette without strings.
“What is it?” She asked, moving over to you, right hand lifting to gently rub along your back. You immediately jerked away from her touch, something that turned her stomach sour as you turned over to face her with your own look of distaste.
“What am I to you?” You asked, words punctuated with a venom Ellie had never anticipated coming from you. She took a moment, taking in a deep breath as she moved to sit down beside you on your bed, trying to ignore the way you shuffled away from her.
“You’re my girl.” She responded, giving you a half-hearted smile. She’d hoped you’d never ask that question, but she knew it’d happen sooner rather than later. “That’s all there is to it.”
“That’s all there is?” You laughed out, shaking your head in disbelief as you shifted on your mattress to face her fully. “You fuck me every week, sometimes more if you can sneak away from your wife. You expect me to be happy with just being ‘your’ girl?”
She looked away from you then, knowing she didn’t have an answer in her mind that would appease you at that moment. What the hell was she supposed to say? That she’d divorce her wife whom she’d known all her life? It was complicated. As she rambled within her mind she realized she hadn’t said anything, causing your agitation to rise as the seconds passed.
“I-“ She started, taking a moment to clear her throat as she looked down to her clasped hands. “I’m married, baby. What did you expect? I’ve known my wife my entire life, I can’t just- I can’t up and divorce her. I need time.”
You’d half startled her when you grabbed her arm, pulling her attention from her tensed hands to your desperate eyes. She returned your look with vigor, feeling a pull within her chest to protect you, love you, even though she caused all of these feelings for you in the first place. How was she meant to protect you from herself when she couldn’t breathe without you beside her?
“What do you feel for me, Ellie?” You asked, words so quiet that she’d hardly heard them over the sound of her heartbeat. She smiled at your question, your naivety of her feelings for you. With a caress of your cheek, she whispered, “Everything.”
It was the truth, she felt too much for you. It scared her, the lengths she’d go to for you. She wasn’t the healthiest when it came to love, she obsessed, became possessive. She felt it flare whenever she’d spot someone talking to you on campus whenever she’d swing by, whether it was her day to pick you up or not. You’d noticed her, and for some reason, it’d only made you cling to her more.
You ceased the gap between you, crashing your lips together in a kiss so fueled with desperation that it sucked the air from your lungs, leaving you aching for everything that encompassed Ellie’s being. You only pulled away when your chest burned for air, words hoarse as you responded, “Then act like it.”
She moved then, hands grasping at your skirt as she pushed you backward into the mattress, her lips trailing down your jaw and onto your throat where she nipped and sucked your skin, leaving her mark. You let her, whines of her name falling past your lips as your hands slipped underneath the fabric of her shirt. You could feel the muscle moving beneath her skin as she sunk closer to you, her fingertips pressing into your hips with enough force to leave behind bruises.
You could feel her teeth against your collarbones as her hands slipped underneath the hem of your skirt, all but tearing the fabric from your body to get you nude in the least amount of time. You lifted your hips, hands moving to help her before you kicked the bundled-up fabric to the floor along with your underwear. Her hand slipped between your thighs, a groan reverberating within her chest as her fingers dragged along your folds.
“Mine.” She whispered, following the word with a kiss to your throat as she slipped her middle and ring finger into your cunt, the sudden movement pulling a gasped-out moan from you as your thighs squeezed around her wrist. She intertwined her legs with yours, pulling your leg to the side with her calf as she rocked her fingers into your cunt.
“Yours.” You breathed out, back arching from the mattress as your hips rocked in tandem with her fingers. She hummed at your response, pride swelling in her chest as she trailed her lips back up the curvature of your throat to your lips, swallowing every bliss-filled moan that left your chest.
She could feel your cunt fluttering around her fingers as she brushed her palm against your clit, each twitch of your cunt and moan from your lips spurring her on further. She slipped a hand between her legs, situating herself to have your thigh pressed against her. You’d been too caught up in the feeling of her fingers pumping within you to register the shift until she rocked her hips down against your thigh, a grunt of your name leaving her at the desperately needed friction.
Her fingers moved in sync with her hips, only pulling away from your kiss to fill her lungs. She could’ve died happy then, feeling your hips rutting up to meet her fingers as she used your thigh to get herself off. It was messy, needy, but it was you and that’s all she could bring herself to care about.
You could feel your orgasm building to a fever pitch in your lower stomach, cunt tightening down around her digits as your moans turned into keens, near pitiful drawls of her name as she chased her own against your thigh. She knew your body well enough to know you were close, the way your eyebrows furrowed and how your legs would tense, it all sent her careening over the edge into her orgasm.
All she managed was a weak, “Fuck,” as her hips stuttered against your thigh, never once losing pace with her fingers as she centered her focus onto you. Your eyes fluttered open, met with her intense gaze as she fingered you. You raised your hand, cupping the back of her neck as your lips parted, a drawn-out whine of her name leaving you as she brought you to your third orgasm of the day. Even as your eyes shut at the intensity of the feeling, Ellie kept her gaze focused on you, watching as your face screwed up in pleasure - all because of her.
“Els-“ You whimpered, tone pleading as your hands jerked between your thighs, pushing away her hand as your pleasure quickly turned into oversensitivity. She moved her hand, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips as you caught your breath. There was a shared comfortable silence, one where she held you close and peppered featherlight kisses to your semi-damp forehead.
Only when you were in her arms did you realize how much you didn’t want to give her up, maybe you were a fool, but you’d be a blissful one until she changed it - you surely wouldn’t change the situation if left to your own devices. You tilted your head back, narrowly missing a kiss to the nose which pulled soft laughter from the both of you as you situated yourself to see her face better.
“Your girl?” You asked.
“My girl.” She replied.
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A/N: It’s finally here!! I actually have some plans for another installment or two of this, so let me know if you guys want more chapters and I will deliver! Thank you so so much for all the love and support you’ve shown my work, I appreciate it more than words can express! You can always find my work over on my AO3 under the user, “Unscriptural.” Thank you again, I hope you guys like this one!
Taglist: @p4ison1vy @machetegirl109 @h0lyr1chex @harrysslutsstuff @bellaramslover
(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for future installments!)
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