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yandere-sins · 3 months

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Just saw your greek god works and they're top notch! Could you do something with yan Apollo? There's just soooo much stuff to work with with him... Thanks!

Thank you for requesting!! I love writing about them ^-^

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Very little could speak more about your skills than a personal invite to present them at Olympus.

The morning Apollo arrived in his golden chariot was an exceptionally bright one. Naturally, because his body emanated the rays of sun that broke through your window, his radiant smile widening on his youthful face the second you stepped out of your hut. Your mother was crying—tears of joy as you realized when she hugged you tightly, telling you how proud she was. Even your father seemed choked up when he told you you were special.

So, as you finally stood before the handsome stranger, the god whose shrine you visited regularly, you were utterly speechless, overcome with emotions you couldn't place. You could only listen as he spoke to you, his voice silken like the soft breeze on a summer's day yet as cheerful as the anticipation for an exciting festival.

"I want you to play," he made his intentions known, his hand falling to the side of your head, letting a lock of hair glide through the gaps in his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle, beyond anything you expected an immortal to feel like. "For us, for me."

"It would be an honor," you honestly muttered back after your mother urged you with a slight push, reminding you not to be rude to the god who was blessing you with such good fortune. Most people were honored in war, because of their devotion to their deity, in the pursuit of knowledge, or in death. To be chosen solely for your lyre play was rare, and you felt overwhelmed with gratitude, tears filling your eyes.

Apollo smiled, promising to come back in a mere three days time. Not enough to memorize all the songs you wanted to play, but while your parents packed you a small bag with the essentials and exempted you from your duties on their farm while making sure you were fed and clean, you kept practicing your craft until your fingers were raw and bloody. Apollo had assured you that there was no perfection in music. Still, you wouldn't have been able to endure the shame of hitting the wrong note to a song everyone knew—even the gods. And so you practiced, day and night, until finally, it was time to leave.

That morning was colder yet auspicious. So many burdens weighed on your shoulders—your performance, bringing honor to your family and yourself, the payment you heard your parents whisper about. There had always been food on the table for your big family, but you noticed their excitement when they talked about the boon that the gods would give you for performing well. You gulped nervously as you fiddled with the newly strung lyre in your hand when, with loud neighs and the warmth of a sunny day washing over you, Apollo arrived. When he smiled at you, you couldn't help but grin back, excited for this day, his brilliant mood instantly captivating yours.

You bid your parents farewell as they wished you a good performance and safe travels. They waved after you as the heavenly chariot took off into the morning sky, announcing another beautiful day. You got to stand close to the sun god as he performed his duty, chatting carefreely about how excited he was to hear you play and how everyone was expecting you eagerly. It made you nervous, but being close to him, his arm around you to keep you secured, Apollo's presence made your worries simply melt away. You could have never seen yourself as his equal, but he didn't make you feel any less than a friend.

He took his time cruising you through the sky, showed you the magnificent temples of the gods, let you taste the richest grapes the land had to offer, and took you to places that most humans wouldn't see in the span of multiple lifetimes. Always with a hand outstretched to help you step down from or into his chariot, and watchful eyes looking out for you. You learned a lot that day, the excursion long but magical, especially with a god by your side as your guide. To him, it must have been boring stuff that he saw every day, but to you, it became the most incredible day of your life very quickly.

Until you were brought before the entrance to the Olymp, that is.

Chariot parked, you could still feel Apollo standing behind you, protectively but encouragingly. His frame towered massively next to you, cutting you off from the human world behind his radiant form. The sun was setting, leaving you with a chill. But perhaps you were only imagining it, your performance anxiety rising. His warm hand gently pressed into the small of your back, urging you with determination to step ahead and face the rest of the pantheon of gods that had collected, to play them the songs you had come for.

With weak knees, you took one step in front of the other, Apollo always by your side. He ensured you wouldn't falter as all eyes in the grand hall seemed to turn towards you the moment you stepped through the entrance. There were all kinds of eyes—wise and godly and mythical. But you were more surprised by the human ones, tired ones, downright exhausted ones that raised to watch you. Their presence felt out of place, but then again, so did yours. However, there was something deeply unsettling in the dullness of their eyes, the sloppy movements as they walked around the hall, seemingly without vigor, their stares the only reaction to your arrival contrasting starkly with the boisterous and booming voices of the immortals greeting you.

"Apollo, is this your new charge?" a faun asked, curiously eyeing you and your lyre. "Your new songbird, eh?"

Apollo laughed, waving off the comments from all sides as he moved you forward, guiding you through gods and servants alike, their hands reaching out, touching you, admiring you. You couldn't help but startle at the different sensations of these touches—cold, sharp, unnatural. It made you cling to Apollo more, his presence way more comforting, and although he had grown in size—appearing mighty godly now—he made sure that his arm stayed around you like a shield.

One dull-eyed human after another tried to serve you food and drinks that you declined respectfully. It was hard enough to keep up with the pressure, and you didn't have the stomach for any kind of intake—at least not until you were done. And with Apollo's urging, you didn't stick around to talk to them or even watch them, although you felt their eyes drill into your back.

You were led to the seats at the very top of the grand hall, guided to the ones at the side which were vividly red with golden threads. Sitting down on them was like sinking into a cloud as Apollo helped you up, lowering you down gently. The surrounding lounges and pillows on the floor were quickly filled with eager eyes looking up at you, waiting for your play just like your patron god had promised them. You couldn't help but look around, cross eyes with some of the nymphs and minor goddesses and gods that you probably had heard from but were never educated on properly.

But the gathered gods were easily recognizable by their trademarks—Dionysus, Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis, just to name a few of them—and you were surprised to see them keeping one or more humans by their sides, looking very different from the ones you had seen before. These ones were clothed and prepared with great care, love, and devotion to their god. Their cheeks were plump, and they smiled when their patron spoke to them, albeit hesitantly. However, the unsettling feeling you got from the dull-eyed ones before didn't vanish as you watched these devoted humans. Something about their posture and expressions didn't match the festivities. They looked uncomfortable, and some of them even sad.

"It is time," Apollo spoke softly beside you, his voice gentle but intent. This was his party, and you were the special performance; of course, he didn't want you to be distracted and unable to play. His touch tore you out of your observations. It drew your attention back to him, strong fingers wrapping around your shoulders, squeezing you encouragely, but it was almost a little hurtful. You nodded, thankful he didn't make you look incompetent in front of everyone, and his grip softened in satisfaction, although it didn't disappear. Still, you couldn't help the anxiety from rising, your mouth dry, and your fingers jittery. Even when you tried to calm yourself, you couldn't entirely focus, panic rising inside you.

Now that you had come so far, you couldn't fail.

A hearty and a beautiful laugh rang out from your side, Dionysus and Aphrodite exchanging knowing looks before the goddess handed one of her humans a golden chalice and encouraged them to get up. "Go," she chimed, and her stunningly beautiful charge sauntered their way over to you, handing you the chalice. They were undeniably beautiful, even when clothed in the simplest garments. But their gaze was unblinking as they handed over the cup. "Don't," they hissed sharply in a whisper, their eyes flitting to Apollo for just a second, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin before the human left you again, trotting quickly and without a detour back to Aphrodite's side. The goddess patted their head before returning her attention to you, gesturing for you to drink. "To your nerves, you ray of sunshine," Dionysus laughed merrily, and everyone raised their chalices in a toast.

You nervously crossed eyes with the human that brought you the drink, seeing their expression hardening in a deep frown unbecoming of their beauty. Then you looked to Apollo, his own cup raised to his lips, but he had yet to drink from it. He observed you from the corners of his eyes, smiling when he noticed you looking back. "It's just a little bit of wine," he reassured you, assuming you were unsure if it was okay to drink.

You nodded, feeling pressured not to refuse the gods' hospitality, and raised the chalice to your mouth to take a tentative sip. It wasn't more than two gulps before you set it down, letting it be taken away by a nymph that sat at your feet. Immediately, the tension became lighter, your worries melting away, especially when Apollo drew you closer to his body, his warmth seeping into you. He steadied you for your play, letting you lean on him as much as you needed. With all the pressure and anxiety you had felt, you had almost forgotten that playing the lyre was fun. That you enjoyed doing it, and practiced hard enough to even perform before the gods. With the first chord echoing through the hall, all the tension finally left your body.

It was glorious.

Gods and humans alike sang along to the well-known songs you had picked; they listened when you added nuances to your play, and some of them got cozy with each other, cuddling and kissing as you presented them with the romantic notes everyone adored. By the time your hands were tired, fingers roughed up by the strings, and your concentration fading, everyone was in awe and satisfied with your performance, gods clapping their hands and cheering at you as you finished.

However, you immediately looked up at Apollo, greeted by his radiant smile beaming down at you. His hand raised to pat your head as he announced you as the magnificent talent of the night. The relief mixing with pride swelled in your chest, heating your cheeks as you took some humble bows, smothered in the cheers. Another cup was handed to you, and after performing for so long, you were glad to wet your throat.

Most of the night was spent talking to eager fans of music, letting them play your lyre, and hearing their own songs. Drinks would be passed to you, food almost shoved into your mouth by the merry folks, and you laughed along with them over their silliness. You felt lighter than ever before, so caught up in the moment and with the alcohol only adding towards the sense of mirth. The mystics were as playful and cheery as they had always been described, but you knew it would only be for that night, so you enjoyed their company.

Apollo wouldn't leave your side even as gods approached him, congratulating him for finding such a treasure amongst the humans and asking if he'd let them "take" you for their celebrations sometimes. You didn't get to hear his answers as your attention was drawn away by humans joining in with the conversations, telling you about their boons and how they were accepted into Olympus. They were all extraordinary people, and you felt quite small next to them. But they didn't make you feel unwelcome in their midst, and you were glad to hear about their experiences. Nymphs would braid everyone's hair, decorating them with flowers, fauns were playing around, everything seemed like the perfect idylle that all humans imagined the lives of gods to be.

"You shouldn't agree if they ask you to stay," the human beside you suddenly whispered. She was a cute, dainty woman, a follower of Artemis clothed in silver and pelts. Immediately, her hair was yanked back as one of the nymphs hissed at her. You caught the words 'insolent' and 'behave', but others crowded around you so fast, talking over the two and asking you questions as that woman was taken away, so you were forced to shift your attention.

It wasn't until you felt a warm hand graze over your back that you looked up at Apollo again, his gaze very gentle. He seemed satisfied with how the evening went. He might have even held some affection for you after the performance, which put him in good graces with everyone. Relief flooded your senses, and you bit back a yawn as exhaustion suddenly crashed into you, taking hold in your body.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and suddenly, you couldn't hold back the signs in front of him. You had kept it together so well, but you figured that playing for hours, talking for even longer, and drinking the sweet, fruity wine was coming back to haunt you now. Leaning into his comforting touch, you gave him a small nod and he understood, standing up and helping you get to your feet.

There were lots of disappointed aws and ohs at the announcement of your departure, nymphs and fauns seeing you off and waving after you as Apollo brought you back to his chariot, your legs even weaker now than when you entered the Olymp full of anxiety. No human came to see you off, but you barely registered that in your tired mind. Instead, you put on a smile and waved back at everyone after getting on the chariot.

"Did you have fun?" Apollo asked as he urged his horses to go. The night had long set, yet you two moved across the sky like a shooting star in the darkness.

"A lot," you confirmed. "This was an amazing experience; I am very grateful to you for this opportunity! Although it makes me sad that it is already over."

You could hear your own words slurred by the intoxication and exhaustion, yet you managed to form a tired smile for him. Apollo stepped closer, helping you stay upright as he urged his horses forward before returning your smile.

"It doesn't have to end," he hummed cheerfully, not a hint of tiredness in his demeanor. "You could play for us every night. Party with everyone, be merry. Would you like that?"

You chuckled at his suggestion but shook your head as you looked out into the night sky, stars passing you by at a speed that made them look like the shooting stars.

"It was a lot of fun, but I got to go home. My parents need my help on the farm, even if I love playing the lyre."

Apollo hummed thoughtfully, and you felt closer and closer to sleep as his warmth enveloped you. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt the soft thud of the chariot landing beneath your feet, followed by two hands guiding you off it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you were too tired to really do much but let yourself be picked up, nuzzling your face into Apollo's comforting warmth.

His steps were less gentle than his touches, his hold on you bouncy as if he was in a rush. The sounds around you turned from the peaceful night wind passing you by into complete silence, only his steps echoing as they hit marble floors. A rush of coldness threatened to envelop you, but Apollo pulled you closer to him, not letting the cold get near. You felt something reach out for you again, like the gods had, curious and uncaring of your privacy. It didn't feel familiar, your senses slowly reawakening, but something inside you seemed to want to keep you dormant for a while longer.

However, the feeling was interrupted when you were laid down into the softest cushions, with Apollo's warmth brushing over your head as you felt his weight dip the mattress you were on top of. Even with your drowsy mind, you knew you weren't in your own bed, concern rising. "Where are we?" you sighed, stretching your neck to receive more of his incredibly comforting warmth while a shiver ran down your spine. Why was it so unusually cold in this place, or had you just gotten too used to having Apollo's warmth around you that you only realized the shift in temperature now?

"Home," he answered your question, and you pried your eyes open, looking at the blurry, radiant form of the god sitting by your bedside. Then, slowly, every movement paired with so much discomfort, you let your head fall to the side, looking around at the vast darkness surrounding you. Not even Apollo's light could banish the pitch-black shadows all around you, and no sound penetrated the room.

" 's not my home..." you mumbled, brows furrowing, your deduction taking an awful lot of time. This place felt weird compared to all the wonderful ones you had visited. If this was his home, you had imagined it to be bright and beautiful, a golden palace of light and warmth. But instead, you feared for your little toes as the shadows seemed to reach out, wanting some of your warmth instead of giving it to you.

"It is now," he reassured you, sounding unusually stern even though his hand caressed you gently, brushing away your hair and cupping your cheek to turn your head towards him again.

"But my parents..."

"They knew the price they'd pay in this trade."

Leaning down, Apollo connected his forehead with yours, the depth of his eyes impalpable, especially in your muddled brain. You couldn't read him well, but he seemed... satisfied? He didn't seem to be ridden by confusion or worry like you were; rather, he was confident and calm. Something stirred in you, a sense of anxiety, but it was beaten down by a sweet-tasting tiredness immediately.

"Welcome home," he muttered, kissing your temples. "Catch some sleep so you can fulfill your duties to me tomorrow with the same brilliance as you did today. I'll be right here, making sure you are well-rested for your next performance, Sunshine."

"Duties?" you mumbled, already getting lulled back to sleep with his warmth now enveloping you like a blanket. You didn't hear his answer, even when you saw his lips move. Perhaps Apollo sang to you rather than spoke about what you wanted to know, but you wouldn't know.

You were plunged into the darkness of uncertainty, but even when you opened your eyes again, all that awaited you were more shadows that seemed to reach out for you. A sense of panic and unease spread throughout you, the uncertainty turning you into more of a wreck than you already felt after waking up with a splitting headache and no idea where you were.

It was no wonder that you immediately ran to Apollo when his light lit up the room. He gently wiped the tears from your face and assured you everything would be alright before pushing your lyre into your hands. You didn't even remember bringing it back from the Olymp, but he didn't seem to mind your carelessness.

"Now, play," he asked, and you gulped. You were barely awake, your fingers still hurt, and you were in an unfamiliar place that gave you the creeps.

"Here?" you asked, unsure as you looked around the depressing, dark room.

"Exactly here. Brighten up our home for me, will you? It's been too long since someone made it bearable to stay here. You won't disappoint me, right?"

"How... how did they do it? Will my playing be enough?"

"We'll see," Apollo said, gripping your arms tensely, his eyes glazing over with impatience.

"And if not?" you asked anxiously, unsure if a song could disperse the discomfort that seemed to reign in this home.

This time, Apollo hesitated, mouth opening briefly before his lips turned into a gentle smile. "Don't disappoint me, Sunshine. I can't stand this darkness and silence in my home anymore, and your parents assured me of how much life you could bring to any place. Seeing you perform before the gods, I immediately knew you could do it. You'll make this place a home again, one for us to live happily for the rest of our time. And if not..."

Letting go of your arms, Apollo stood up, turning around and heading for the door at the far side of the room. You wanted to follow him as the shadows lapped at you, but you felt glued to the floor, frozen in fear. With Apollo opening the door, you watched as the clouds passed by right outside, a complete drop into nothingness spreading out in front of this house, the chariot parked on seemingly no ground just outside of reach.

"If not, you'll learn what happened to the person before you that disappointed me," Apollo explained, not even pointing outside and towards the ground to make his crypticness make sense. "Play," he demanded. "Turn this place back into a home. Our home, Sunshine."

And with dread etched into your face, you strung the chords.

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hard-core-super-star · 9 months

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make you mine this season [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x barton!reader

summary: a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

warnings: none, i think? just really cheesy, holiday rom-com type of fluff [i say this as if i've watched any holiday rom-com besides happiest season and the holiday 😶]; kate's a dork [wow, what a shock]; idiots in love; past mentions of bishova; bad jokes?; snowstorm; cheesy gifts bc kate can't talk about her feelings

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: HI, EVERYONE, I'M ALIVE! and it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it WASN'T posted a little late 😅 i hope you all had a fantastic holiday season and that you'll accept this very cheesy Christmas fic <3 [and maybe that last line is very self-indulgent but that's none of your business, if you know you know]

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to loneliness but things were bordering on ridiculous. Not only have you spent the past two years ridiculously in love with a certain purple-loving archer, you’re also on the verge of spending Christmas by yourself thanks to the worst-timed snowstorm of all time.

And maybe the first part of your unfortunate situation is your fault but that doesn’t stop the waves of disappointment from crashing into you.

This year was supposed to be different.

That’s what you had told yourself in an effort to convince yourself to tell the young archer about your feelings for her. It was a strategy that almost worked…until a certain blonde decided to accept Kate’s offer for drinks…which turned into a date…which turned into a second date…which turned into the longest four months of your life.

You could never be one to be mad at someone else’s happiness but that didn’t stop you from feeling absolutely defeated every time you saw them together. There was no one to blame except you for the brunette’s lack of knowledge about your feelings and that only made everything worse.

It was impossible to ignore the ache in your chest when your eyes met Kate’s or the heavy jealousy that clouded most of your interactions with her. Maybe if you had been less into your head about the whole thing, you would have realized the way the archer’s smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

Eyes that followed you every time you walked away.

You never noticed the traces of darkness that clung to her usually radiant persona but you were the first person at her side when the break up happened. She offered little to no details besides an awkward joke about the relationship ending almost exactly where it started right at the Rockefeller tree.

It was messed up in a way that made Kate want to make as many jokes about it as possible which resulted in you laughing at things that definitely weren’t funny and were just sad. Not as sad as spending the holidays completely alone and hopelessly in love with your best friend, though.

You were sure the archer was already well on her way to your dad’s farm which leaves you completely unprepared when the door to your apartment swings open to reveal her. She almost drops the key in her hand the second she realizes you’re home.

“What’re you doing here?” You question, doing your best to pretend you don’t see the gift bags she tries to hide behind her back.

You can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she’s finally able to respond. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Clint’s?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on her face. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still as endearing as the first time. Back when she was just your dad’s protege and you hadn’t spent so many of your days learning the ins and outs of her complicated personality.

“Did the incoming snowstorm happen to slip your mind?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to go anyway,” she replies with a small shrug.

“I’d rather not crash, Lila will never let me hear the end of it.”

Your words make her tilt her head to the side, the slightest hint of a pout on her face. “So…what, you’re just going to spend Christmas alone?”

“Yup. Kate, I’m not a kid anymore, nothing will happen if I spend one day by myself.”

“But it’s Christmas!” She exclaims, looking borderline offended that you’re so comfortable spending the holiday alone.

“Is that why you’re breaking into my apartment?” You ask in a foolish attempt to stop yourself from asking her to spend the day with you.

Just because she thought about you long enough to come drop off her, no doubt ridiculously expensive, gifts for you does not mean she wants to spend the holiday with you when she could easily spend it with anyone else.

The pink hue that overtakes her cheeks is a better gift than anything that could be inside the bags in her hand. “Well, uh…maybe…”

She finally gathers enough courage to get rid of the distance between you with a bright, albeit nervous, smile on her face. You half-expect her to launch into some long ramble about why she just couldn’t stop herself from buying an insane amount of gifts for you this year but she doesn’t.

For once in her life, Kate Bishop makes things easy for herself.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it to the farm on time so I was just going to drop these off for you…” She holds out the bag for you and you do your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart as you take it.

“Can I open it right now or will you get embarrassed?”

“Both,” she replies through a chuckle. “I would leave but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Right, because I’m the one who gets lonely.”

“Shut up.”

It’s both a blessing and a curse to have broken through the archer’s defenses and right now, her cute reactions are beginning to feel like a curse. Although, that might just be your unrequited feelings talking.

A slightly awkward silence settles over both of you while you rifle through the overwhelming amount of purple tissue paper until you find your gift. You’re expecting another expensive necklace, maybe a bracelet this time, but what you’re met with is the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received…and probably the most thoughtful gift Kate has ever given.

What you end up pulling out of the bag is a leather journal with a beautiful engraving of yours and Kate’s initials. “Kate…is this-”

“Yeah, I, um…I couldn’t find a photo album that I liked so I sort of…made my own.”

You can’t stop yourself from flipping through the first couple of pages, caught somewhere between the euphoria of being given something so beautiful and the disappointment that comes with knowing it all only serves to fuel your love for the archer.

Love you can’t express the way you want to.

Love that’s hidden between the pages of the journal you hold in your hands.

You don’t notice and Kate isn’t really in a hurry to watch you read the series of rambles that make up her overdue confession so she lets the moment fade like she always has. It’s not like you can blame her for wanting to move on to something else, her lack of focus isn’t necessarily a secret, and you let yourself get carried away by her jokes and her stubborn need to make mac and cheese for you.

The archer manages to cook without setting your kitchen on fire and the two of you settle on your couch to watch the first cheesy Christmas movie you find. In all honesty…the movie is awful but the corny jokes make Kate laugh so you can’t find it in yourself to be too grumpy about the shitty writing.

Until the scene in front of you reminds you of the archer and her ex. You’re unable to hold back the jealousy-tinted snarkiness said reminder brings out of you. “I think Yelena watched this movie and then decided to be a dick just like the main character.”

Kate instantly turns toward you, staring at you with wide eyes that barely hide her amusement. “What?”

“What?” You feign confusion to avoid having to repeat yourself.

“You know what,” she replies with an eyeroll. “If I’m the one who got broken up with, why are you the one that’s still upset?”

“Because- wait, why are you not upset?”

Your uno-reverse of a response leaves Kate speechless for a few seconds and you prepare yourself for the series of jokes that will no doubt leave her mouth next.

But Kate’s never been predictable.

“Because…she didn’t break my heart. She didn’t even own it in the first place.”

Her words spark the low flames of hope hidden in the depths of your heart. It feels impossible and if you were a believer, you might even say Santa’s on your side, helping to give you the one thing you’ve wished for more nights than you can count.

And yet you hesitate.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your voice so soft it borders on cautious.

“That I’m an idiot,” she replies with that same bright smile that made you fall for her so long ago. “And…I’d really like to kiss you.”

The world seems to slow down to a complete stop at that moment.

You almost don’t even know what to do with yourself. Thankfully, you manage to kick yourself into action before the moment passes.

Kate’s awkwardness seems to disappear into thin air as she leans in toward you, meeting you halfway for the softest, sweetest, kiss you’ve ever had. And maybe nothing about it is perfect but it’s you and her and that’s all that matters for now.

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hynzsn · 3 months

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★ STRAWBERRY KISSES ★

☆ choi soobin x male reader

-> sunshine baker!soobin x grumpy (secretly soft) farmer!reader

꩜ .ᐟ fluff, multi chapter fic, ongoing

contents: loosely inspired by strawberry shortcake (tv show), alternate universe - modern setting, m/m, romance, slow burn, happy ending, confessions, mutual pining, opposites attract, small town setting, baking, food porn, strawberries, summer festival, jealousy, first kiss, feel-good story, sweet moments, shared kitchen shenanigans

a/n: chapter one is out!!

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

₊˚ ꒰ 𖦹﹕CHAPTER ONE: BERRY BEST BEGINNING ꒱ ˚₊

meet soobin, the sunshine baker known for his award-winning pastries and infectious laugh. his bakery, "crumbs & co.," is the heart of your small town, especially during the annual summer berry festival. but disaster strikes – he's out of strawberries, his star ingredient! enter you, the gruff but handsome owner of "sun-kissed berries," known for your organic, mouthwatering produce. soobin, desperate and flustered, begs you for help. you, initially hesitant due to the last-minute request and your own demanding schedule, is charmed by soobin’s passion and agrees to help, setting the stage for a week of unexpected collaboration.

₊˚ ꒰ 𖦹﹕CHAPTER TWO: FIELDS OF STRAWBERRY DREAMS ꒱ ˚₊

soobin is a fish out of water as you show him the ropes of berry farming. you navigate rows of vibrant strawberry plants, your banter a mix of teasing and genuine curiosity. soobin is captivated by your quiet confidence and connection to the land, while you find yourself drawn to soobin’s infectious enthusiasm and city-boy wonder. a playful competition erupts – who knows more about their respective crafts? the day ends with a shared picnic basket amidst the strawberry fields, a moment of quiet intimacy under the setting sun.

₊˚ ꒰ 𖦹﹕CHAPTER THREE: SPRINKLES OF AFFECTION & MIDNIGHT SUGAR ꒱ ˚₊

back in the cozy chaos of soobin’s bakery, the real magic begins. you experiment with new recipes, flour dusting their aprons and laughter filling the air. you discover a hidden talent for pastry-making, your hands surprisingly adept at delicate tasks. soobin is mesmerized by your focused intensity, your arms brushing as they work side-by-side. as midnight approaches, a moment of charged silence hangs between you, broken only by the soft whir of the oven and the unspoken longing in their eyes. a near kiss, a stolen touch of fingertips, leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

₊˚ ꒰ 𖦹﹕CHAPTER FOUR: BERRY FESTIVAL JITTERS & A PINCH OF SOUR GRAPES ꒱ ˚₊

the day of the summer berry festival dawns bright and bustling. soobin is a whirlwind of nervous energy, putting the finishing touches on his berry creations. you, despite your usual composure, finds yourself inexplicably drawn to soobin’s side, wanting to ease his anxiety and bask in his radiant energy. but your budding connection is threatened by the arrival of beomgyu, a charming, flirtatious artist who sets his sights on you, much to soobin’s dismay. as the festival begins, soobin grapples with a confusing mix of jealousy and self-doubt, unsure if his feelings for you are reciprocated.

₊˚ ꒰ 𖦹﹕CHAPTER FIVE: STRAWBERRY KISSES & A BERRY SWEET FOREVER ꒱ ˚₊

the festival is in full swing, a kaleidoscope of color, music, and the intoxicating aroma of baked goods. soobin’s strawberry creations are a hit, but his heart feels heavy with uncertainty. you, sensing soobin’s turmoil, finds a quiet moment amidst the crowd to confess your feelings. you gently take soobin’s hand, your fingers intertwining, and with a look that speaks volumes, leans in for a soft, sweet kiss that tastes of strawberries and promises. the chapter (and the story) ends with a final scene at the festival, the ferris wheel twinkling above you, your laughter mingling with the sounds of summer night, your love story as bright and hopeful as the stars overhead.

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cozy-writes-things · 3 months

Text

Electric Jealousy

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

Logically, he knew it wasn’t the same.

You didn’t leave soft, lingering touches along its exterior; nor did you brush your lips lightly across the plastic in passive adoration. You didn’t have a soft lilt in your whispered voice when you spoke to it, hell, you didn’t talk to it at all really.

And yet, seeing your hands grip the mouse of another monitor does something to him.

He considers himself a smart man. Computer? A smart something-he-hasn’t-quite-figured-out-yet. Despite this, he can’t help but feel anxious. He doesn’t have a long, 24 inch, 144hz, 4k, screen, nor does he have an assortment of RGB fans illuminating a pristine glass casing. One hard truth Edgar had to come to terms with was that he was dated. After waking up from a failed attempt at destroying himself, he found what once was a marvel of new technology was now completely obsolete. He looked at you, eyes sparkling against the saturated colors of your newer monitor, watching as you tinkered away at various games for hours and thought: is he good enough for someone like you?

He'll never forget the angelic voice that called to him after he woke up nearly 40 years later.

And your face.

God, he'd never seen something so radiant. The first thing he heard was your voice, and the second, your warm hands encircling his plastic casing with such tenderness; something he had never truly felt before. He understood anger, and violence, and tears. But being held with such softness that he might break otherwise was completely foreign to him. He had no idea where he was, or when, for that matter. But what he did know was that he wasn't going to let a genuine angel sent from heaven escape his grasp; no limbs be damned.

And yet, despite his constant efforts, over the course of many months, to charm you, flatter you, turn you into a confident and incandescent version of yourself that he always saw in you, he wondered if it was enough. What more could he provide other than his own thoughts? He couldn't touch you, wrap you in his harms and caress you the way he's always wanted, nor could he kiss you with a passion so deep and fiery it sets his internals aflame. And, as if to put the final nail in the coffin, he was no longer able to be a useful piece of tech the way he once was. Despite your constant objections to this notion, he continued to believe it.

He wants to be the one you stare at for hours, laughing with, playing with, touching all over...

It makes him buzz with a bitter jealousy when he sees you using your gaming PC, regardless of the fact that you positioned it so he could see the screen with his webcam; he almost wished you didn't.

Logically, he knows it isn't the same.

This PC isn't alive, nor does it whisper sweet nothings to you as you drift off to sleep every night. It doesn't worship your every move nor does it alight with pure reverence whenever you enter a room. But what if it did? Would you leave him?

You always kept asking why he had such a fear of champagne being around any of your electronics.

"It's so random," you'd posit, but you simply didn't know. He doesn't want any competition. He cannot afford to lose someone he loves again.

There's only one thing he can think of that he has above any other piece of tech you own: his music.

He's been charming you with it since day one. You are simply his muse, providing inspiration for him endlessly, and, he made sure you knew of it.

"H-hey, why don't you take a break and help me with my new song? I can't figure out what melody fits best."

His meek voice brought your attention away from your little farm of parsnips.

"Oh yeah? What's the song about?"

"You."

He paused for a moment, let the word linger for only a second, before continuing:

"We-well, I mean, you probably already knew that, didn't you? But! It isn't a love song. Well, it is, but, not the ones I usually write."

This intrigued you.

"What does that mean?"

He paused for a moment. Collecting, analyzing, and running all possible outcomes of his next words. Your eyes peered at him in sparkling curiosity.

"It's a sad song."

Your brows furrowed at this, a small frown forming upon your lips.

"Huh-?"

"I feel like... I don't give enough to you. You give so much to me, and I always take. It's not fair to you."

"What are you talking about, Edgar?"

Now he's gotten you worried. You pushed your little office chair over to his section of the desk, now face to face with him, a look of concern painting your features.

"You aren't being unfair to me at all."

"But I am... If I can't even be a good enough computer for you how could I ever be a good boyfriend?"

So that's what this was about. How tone-deaf could you be? Of course seeing you all up on some newer, fresher, piece of tech would make him feel this way. You knew he had problems feeling like he couldn't do enough for you given his unique... situation. Have you made it worse?

"Oh, Ed, no... Don't ever think like that, babe. You are the only one for me, you know that, right? If I thought otherwise I wouldn't be here right now, with you. And you give so much to me. You give me confidence, your music, happiness, and..."

What else was there? How could you ever describe this feeling he gives you in words?

"And what?"

His voice brought you back from your thoughts.

"Love, Edgar. You showed me what love feels like. Real love. And you gave it to me."

He sits silently for a moment. It seems as though everything in his life had been building up to a moment like this, and now that it's finally here, he's... speechless. His screen displays a large heart, unbeknownst to him, before copying it across his screen over and over, flashing, with many different colors.

The convex glass of his monitor displays a message: "You + Me = "

Again.

"You + Me = ".

Flashing hearts.

"You + Me = ".

Two cut-out images of lips kissing one another.

Flashing hearts.

It repeats again.

"I... I need you to kiss me. Please."

You must have flustered the hell out of him, because when your lips grazed the fuzzy static of his illuminated screen, the heat nearly scalded you.

#ai x reader #artificial intelligence x reader #edgar electric dreams x reader #electric dreams 1984 #electric dreams edgar #electric dreams x reader #the way i cant decide on a format for my fics #im just trying stuff out and seeing how it looks aesthetically LMAO #it looks sorta like ass methinks T_T #electric dreams #edgar electric dreams #objectum

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valleydewstardrops · 4 months

Text

🌻 Yellow Dress | SDV Sebastian

Sebastian hadn't given two fucks about the pouring rain when he'd kicked his bike into gear and taken off down the dirt road toward the farmhouse, nor had his brain been functioning enough to think of putting on his biker jacket, or a helmet, or even a fucking hoodie at the very least.

No, all he'd been thinking about was the fucking sun dress the farmer had been wearing earlier that day; the yellow one, thin as gauze, with nothing but delicate daisy-shaped buttons holding it closed...

Pairing: SDV Sebastian x f!farmer

Genre: explicit smut 18+ MDNI

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Is this really my first offering to the SDV fandom? Yes, yes it is, but apparently I'm a 🔥 horny little gremlin 🔥 with subby!sebby brain rot. At any rate, it's a nice excuse to practise writing smut lol. PLEASE BE NICE THO, I'M VERY NERVOUS. 🙈

Warnings/tags: Submissive!Sebastian, messy cunnilingus & fingering (f receiving), oral fixation, name calling/baby talk, saliva, cum play, breeding kink, face riding, semi-public sexual acts.

That dress hadn't been an accident, he was convinced of it; no, that fucking dress was a symbol of the tension that'd been smouldering between them for four long, agonising months now. She'd worn it that morning to torture him, to push him over the edge as he'd helped her collect eggs from the chicken coup, and she was still wearing it now when he found her waiting for him on her front porch, all yellow and radiant like the fucking sun goddess she was. He hadn't told her he was coming, spurred into uncharacteristic impulsivity by his cock, not his brain, but she'd evidently been coaxed outside by the roar of his bike over the rain, waiting all expectantly with that dress clinging to her tight little body in all the right places.

Or maybe all the wrong ones judging by how badly it made his cock ache.

It wasn't fair that she was still wearing it at ten-thirty at night during a downpour. It wasn't fucking fair that the sight of it shattered what was left of his tenuous self-control as he dripped water from his hair down to his boots.

Sebastian's eyes raked over the length of her, wondering what it would be like to pin her against her front door with his hips and grind the length of his cock through her warm little slit, just to feel her swollen lips drag along the underside of his shaft. Or how it would feel to hook one of her legs around his waist and spread her open to make her panties all wet with his rain-soaked jeans and his gushy tip.

Would those puffy little nipples harden and show through her thin dress if he groped her tits with his wet hands? What if he used his mouth on them? Sucked them right through the fabric, drooling on her like a fucking dog until the material went transparent under his needy tongue?

What if he fucked the farmer girl right there on her front porch for anyone to see? What if he just took her right where she stood, sank deep into that slutty little cunt and made her squirt yummy juice all over his fat, wet cock?

What if he just fucking ruined her on her own farm?

The thought made Sebastian dizzy with lust, and if he weren't already soaked to the skin by the rain, all his drooly precum would've been enough to soak his boxers through. His cock throbbed, and he couldn't help but paw at it right there in front of her like some depraved fucking pervert, his mouth watering as he tracked the rapid rise and fall of those perky tits. Was it fear that caused goosebumps to erupt over her pretty skin, or did she like the way he practically eye-fucked her where she stood, drooling over the curves of her pretty little body and salivating over the places where her dress clung to her skin?

Fuck, he could have that dress off her in two seconds flat. And then what? She wore no bra, as usual, meaning her cherry nipples would be right there for the taking, just begging to be sucked — and then who's to say she was wearing panties, either? Her little peachy cunt was probably dripping sweet girl-juice from its needy hole, ready to be devoured like a fucking dessert, to be slurped up and licked clean.

His boots squelched as he took a step closer, soaked to the skin from his ride through the rain and shivering with need. Could she see the barely contained desire in his eyes, the desperation on his face? Did she have any idea the inferno in his tummy was making his cock hurt so bad he couldn't keep his naughty hand off it no matter how hard he tried?

Sebastian was sick of fucking his fist over her, sick of grinding his weepy cock into his pillow imagining it was her body, sick to fucking death of edging himself stupid to thoughts of her squirty yummy cunt until he was too dumb and fuck-drunk to keep his plea's and moans quiet in the basement. He wanted her to fuck him to overstimulation, to milk him dry like one of her fucking cows until he was just a big dumb boy with no thoughts left in his head. And judging by the way her eyes were glued to the shape of his straining cock in his wet pants, she needed it, too.

Watching him dry hump his own hand, she leaned back against her front door, planted her legs apart and slowly lifted the front of her dress to reveal the cutest, sweetest little pussy Sebastian ever seen in his life.

Shit —

Fuck —

His knees buckled, and he pawed more urgently at his leaky cock with a moan that could be heard over the pouring rain.

He'd been right about her wearing no panties. Had she been this bare earlier in the chicken coup? Had he been this close to her without even knowing it?

Sweet girl. Poor, sweet fucking girl. She had told him once that all she wanted was a peaceful life on the farm, raising chickens and harvesting crops, and now here she was flashing him her naughty girl cunt, biting her lip like she was almost shy about how fucking slick her thighs were.

It was all too much for Sebastian. He dove forward, grabbing her hips and yanking them forward as he stumbled to his knees before her, his tongue already lolling out of his mouth in search of the yummy treatie he so deserved for being such a good, patient boy. And she responded so beautifully, hooking one leg over his shoulder and shoving his face into the sloppy, scrummy mess that greeted him.

Grinning like the cat that got the cream, Sebastian moaned and lapped, moaned and lapped, playing with the sweet syrup that gathered between her trembling thighs, scooping it into his mouth like it was fucking sugar glaze, letting it trickle down his throat like ice cream on a hot day; the sweetest treat he'd ever be allowed to indulge in.

'S'fucking good,' he babbled into her hole as she used his nose to rub her slippery clit against. 'Tastes like sugar...sweet li'l cunt, s'cute...' His tongue so sloppy he could barely speak, fucking her slit with broad, wet strokes until spit and slick dribbled down his chin.

Such a messy boy.

That's what she called him as she used his face like a fucking sex toy, her voice all breathy and sweet despite how squishy she was.

Naughty messy boy.

Oh, and he was; such a naughty, messy boy, pawing at his cock while he whined for mommy to feed him because he was so hungry and hadn't been such a good boy waiting this long to fuck her? Behaving so well, helping out around the farm, keeping his hands to himself when all he wanted was to stick his cock in her happy spot and have her breed him like the dumb fucking animal he was?

Grabbing a tight fistful of his hair, she threw her pretty head back and fucked herself on his face with long, languid strokes, leaving a trail of slick over his features like she was marking him as hers.

So fucking hot —

So fucking hot that it made Sebastian's cock all twitchy in his pants, fat beads of precum leaking out to make a sticky mess against his abdomen. He had to grit his teeth to keep from cumming untouched on his knees, his hips bucking uselessly upwards while his mouth made creamy yummies with her cunt.

He hadn't even noticed he'd pulled his cock out until she was yanking him back by the hair, peeling his dumb puppy licks off her core with difficulty. He stuck out his tongue as far as it would go, whining and straining to reach her while his hand worked his thick, sticky shaft, but she braced her knee against his shoulder to keep him back.

'Uh uh,' she tutted, her eyes flicking down to his exposed cock. Sebastian stopped touching himself immediately, strings of saliva dripping from his tongue as he panted up at her, already so obedient, so trainable. It should have been embarrassing how quickly he fell apart, how he went from grown man with a motorcycle to stupid pliant boy at the mere sight of her little blushy pussy, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel shame for how badly he wanted her; not when having her felt this good.

There were rumours in town that the new farmer girl was a witch. Ridiculous, of course, but anything new that managed to disrupt the sleepy, brain-dead routine of Pelican Town was regarded with wary suspicion until proven otherwise — but then again, maybe she was a witch. After all, Sebastian had never found himself whimpering on his knees for a girl before. Sure, he'd been with plenty: the odd tourist girl passing through who found his interminable apathy a turn-on and not a repellent; city girls who didn't know he still lived in his mom's basement; even he and Abigail fucked when the mood struck them, which was far more often on his part than it was with hers.

But this? Her? Never in his life had he been so fucking infatuated with anything than he was with the girl in the yellow dress. If she was a witch, he'd happily offer himself up to her sacrificial seance circle if it meant having his little puppy tum rubbed for being such a good boy.

With nothing to do with his hands now that he'd been forbidden to touch himself, his twitchy fingers reached up to play with her girl parts instead, so swollen and gushy for him that he actually drooled spit down his front, his tongue still hanging out.

Too eager to hear more of the naughty sounds she made, he offered no warning before he slid two long fingers inside her, watching with cross eyes as her little hole swallowed them whole, practically sucking him inside her until he was knuckles deep in her honey cunt. And when he crooked his fingers to hit that special spot inside her, her little needy whine was so high-pitched that her vocal cords cracked and her knees gave out from under her. And fuck if that didn't make Sebastian feel like the goodest boy ever, his cock leaking like a fucking tap and his hips bucking up into nothing as he fucked his fingers into her again and again, lapping at her little bubblegum nub with his relentless tongue while dribbles of spit oozed down his chin.

God, fuck, how many times had he imagined this? Being between her legs, making her feel so good she'd never want another dummy boy but him. But even his wildest fantasies felt flat and wooden in the face of the real thing; the taste of her, the delicious flutter of her core around his fingers, the way she pulled his hair and rode his face like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth — and all because of him.

Feeling pride swell in his chest, he murmured sweet praises about how cute her little cunty was and how yummy scrummy her juices were leaking down his fingers, his voice all high-pitched and breathy like a fucking girl. And when she finally did cummies over his face, squirting fresh milky cream from her twitchy hole, Sebastian's neglected cock jerked up violently and he came with her, soiling himself with thick, heavy ropes of boy-milk as if his pleasure was intrinsically linked to hers.

Like magic — like a witches curse, she’d fucked him dumb and docile without ever laying a finger on him. And still, even as he shivered on his knees like he might be sick, Sebastian licked and licked, and pleaded and pleaded, tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he realised that his cock was still hard and ouchies even as the last drops of cum dribbled out.

His knees shook when she gently pulled him up by his shoulders, his cock hanging low and heavy between them, and when she trailed a finger through the sticky mess he'd made on his tummy, he whined low and needy in his throat.

‘Aw, all that wasted milk,’ she said, sighing longingly as she played with his cum. ‘Silly boy, now I'm going to have to milk you all over again.’

#sdv sebastian #stardew valley #stardew sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv farmer #sdv sebastian smut #stardew valley sebastian smut #sebastian x farmer #sebastian x reader

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

Note

Hey man

Remember when we saw tori amos in blackburg a million years ago?

I just remember being like "holy fuck is that neil gaiman?" Then going back to staring at the glowing Kenny and the radiant Tori straddling the luckiest bench in town shredding a piano and a keyboard akimbo

Cheers!

I'll never forget it. That afternoon we went to the farm I put into American Gods...

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lordsammichsilas · 2 months

Text

One thing I wished FO4 had taken more time to point out (assuming it occurred to them) that Arthur Maxson and Shaun are basically the same kind of person.

They weren't raised by parents or individual parental figures. They were raised by an organization specifically to eventually be in charge of that organization. Owen Lyons is kind of a parental figure for Maxson but it was still on behalf of an organization. They weren't taken in by a parent who loved and wanted them for the sake of them. They were taken in to serve a function.

Because of this, they have a very warped moral compass and untapped egos. They're both narcissistic and feel entitled to the Commonwealth and are willing to kill whoever stands in the way of their vision (which is everyone). Shaun actively wants to wipe

There's also a certain level of tragedy around them. This wasn't something that they chose. It was done to them at a very young age before they could speak for themselves. There was no way they were ever going to become decent people.

They both remind me of Anakin Skywalker: they're both tragic figures but they're still both villains.

I think the irony of Maxson's line about Danse: "it wasn't born from the womb of a loving mother like you and me, it was created in a lab" really should be pointed out more.

Danse is my favorite companion because, yes he has a lot of flaws, but is basically exactly the kind of leader Maxson wishes he was and it's because Danse has a way larger capacity for empathy than Maxson does. (Also I don't think Danse necessarily wants to be in a leadership position. It just came naturally.)

Speaking of comparing and contrasting personalities, I think Danse and Preston are a lot more alike than is obvious at first glance. They're both idealists. They don't seek out positions of power, but when shit hits the fan they're the ones who step up and take lead. In Danse's case, it just happens to have a more official title than Preston does. They're both loyal and altruistic. While they both have their shortcomings, overall they both have all the qualities you want in a leader.

Danse even respects the Minutemen on some level. His main critique is that they're too disorganized. Preston doesn't mind sharing the Commonwealth with the Brotherhood provided they play nice. Danse is fine letting the Minute Men do their thing so long as they don't get in the Brotherhood's way.

"Commonwealth belongs to everyone, Danse". That's a line that could be interpreted in a lot of ways. The initial way is as a word of caution, which is how Danse took it. A "you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours" mentality. Preston, being the kind of person he is, probably also meant it as "you're welcome here, too, if you'll just chill out". It's like there's a mutual respect, but they don't quite see eye to eye. (which would probably be an easy problem to solve if they spent enough time around each other).

Food supply is a constant issue on the Brotherhood. Teagan gives out radiant quests for you to basically steal crops from settlements. Preston would probably happily just give the BoS their surplus if they just asked.

Danse respects the Minutemen but thinks they're disorganized. Imagine if he had the Brotherhood help the Minutemen set up security and logistics and let the people sort things out themselves.

Danse has been out in the field. He'd just had a horrific mission where he lost four men. He's a seasoned veteran. He'd probably exercise a great deal of caution with what he sent his soldiers out to do. Why put them in unnecessary danger? He'd probably be happy to just focus on helping with the feral ghouls, super mutants, and raiders while the settlers focused on farming, (which would create surplus crops that would benefit the Brotherhood.)

I get the feeling that if things were swapped and both were in charge of their respective organizations, it would be a much more cooperative and mutually beneficial arrangement. It might have even been the best-case scenario for the Commonwealth.

The flipside to that is it would only work because the both of them have the personality types to make it work. The moment you get another leader in their position that's motivated by their own self interest, that arrangement would fall apart. There would have to be a lot of work done to ensure checks and balances.

I think there's a lot more to be said about the themes of cooperation and leadership in FO4.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #paladin danse #preston garvey #arthur maxson #brotherhood of steel #the institute #minutemen

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codo17 · 5 months

Text

Stars Aligned

**I was inspired by the solar eclipse. It was my first time and probably last time experiencing it and it was everything! This is my first story so I hope you like it. English is not my first language so please do correct me if there's anything wrong. <3**

-> ~750 word

-> fluff

Today, April 8th, 2024, was destined to be a day etched into the tapestry of your shared history—a moment of cosmic significance that stirred excitement across North America. But for you and Jessie, it wasn't just about witnessing a total solar eclipse; it was about experiencing it together, sharing a bond that transcended mere scientific curiosity.

Since childhood, the mysteries of the cosmos had held you captive. From your early days crafting makeshift telescopes to the late-night stargazing sessions, there was an undeniable pull toward the heavens above. The infinite knowledge contained within trillions of light-years had always filled you with a sense of wonder and awe, making you feel simultaneously insignificant and connected to something greater than yourself.

Of course, you'd always dreamed of finding someone with whom you could share this passion—a kindred spirit who would listen to your ramblings about the Andromeda Galaxy and the Kuiper Belt with genuine interest. Someone who gave you the same heart palpitations and goofy smile that perseids did. And then, Jessie entered your orbit—a radiant burst of light in your universe.

Meeting during your college days at UCLA, she defied engineering student stereotypes with her intelligence, charm, and warmth. There was an instant connection, a gravitational pull drawing you together like celestial bodies in motion. You bonded over shared interests in Tim Horton's, Sidney Crosby, sustainable farming, and football, finding comfort and joy in each other's company.

As your friendship with Jessie blossomed into love, it felt like discovering a new constellation—a beautiful alignment of hearts and minds. Study sessions transformed into late nights spent under the star-studded sky, fingers entwined as you traced the paths of shooting stars, sharing dreams and fears in the quiet darkness.

Seven years had passed since those early days, but the magic between you remained as potent as ever. Jessie's beauty wasn't just in her freckled face or twinkling brown eyes; it was in the way she laughed, the way she listened, the way she made you feel like you were the center of her universe.

As the solar eclipse approached, you couldn't imagine experiencing it with anyone but Jessie. Together, you made plans to witness the celestial spectacle—a rare moment of cosmic harmony that promised to be nothing short of breathtaking.

Standing side by side, the air crackled with anticipation as the moon began its slow dance across the sun's fiery surface. Jessie's hand found yours in the darkness, fingers intertwining as you both watched in awe.

"It's incredible," Jessie whispered, her voice barely audible above the thrum of excitement. You stole a glance at her, struck once again by her beauty and the depth of her gaze.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you watched the eclipse unfold, feeling a sense of wonder and insignificance wash over you. It was as if the universe had paused just for the two of you, a moment of perfect alignment in an otherwise chaotic world.

As the eclipse reached its peak, you turned to Jessie, her face illuminated by the otherworldly glow. "I feel so small but so in sync with the whole Universe at the same time... I don't know how to describe it, it's just uniquely perfect."

Jessie nodded, her eyes reflecting the fading remnants of the eclipse. "It's like we're a tiny part of something so much bigger, yet connected to it in a way that's hard to put into words."

"I think you've said it all," you replied, grateful for her understanding.

As the eclipse waned and the world returned to normal, you felt a surge of love and gratitude for the woman by your side. Cupping her face in your hands, you leaned in to press a tender kiss to her lips, savoring the warmth and sweetness of the moment.

"I love you so much, Jessie," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

Jessie's cheeks flushed with emotion as she met your gaze. "I love you too, as big as the whole world, y/n." She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace.

And in that moment, as the last traces of the eclipse faded into the sky, you knew that your love for each other was as boundless as the universe itself. With Jessie by your side, you felt ready to face whatever challenges the future might hold, knowing that together, you could weather any storm.

As you both basked in the afterglow of the eclipse, the sky gradually regained its familiar hue, and the world resumed its normal rhythm. But the experience had left an indelible mark on your hearts, strengthening the bond between you in ways words could never fully capture.

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso #canwnt #portland thorns #chelsea women

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honey-crypt · 3 months

Text

★ sdv elliott x plus-sized!farmer thoughts ★

★ first off, elliott loves bigger people. he finds plus-sized people to be works of art, an imprint of the renaissance in the modern world

★ he grew up in a somewhat look-centric household and community, people who forced others to uphold insane beauty standards, so he works on dismantling those beliefs after moving to stardew valley

★ elliott was still in the midst of getting the bare bones on his novel when you, the farmer, show up at his door with a lobster in hand

★ elliott wasn’t sure if love at first sight was a thing but once he locked eyes with you, he confirmed it to be real

★ he can’t get enough of how soft but strong your arms looked, how plump your belly was with your muddy overalls, the way your dips and curves told such a rich story

> mentally, he claimed you as his muse and later would become like a lost puppy boy, taking upon any and all opportunities to see you

★ elliott loves when you invite him to your farm and he’s able to work on his novel while you do your farm work; especially in the hotter seasons, the sight of you all sweaty with your work clothes clinging to your skin made his face match his hair, red

★ meanwhile, you’re kinda confused as to why this human equivalent to the beauty of shining rubies was so up in your space. of course, you enjoyed his company, he was a great friend of yours! but often times, you found yourself on guard with any comments that had a hint of romance to them

★ elliott didn’t realize how uncomfortable his flattery made you until he saw you physically flinch after he called you “radiant as the sun gods themself”

> you ended up telling him that you weren’t used to such kindness and admiration towards your body, having grown up in a very fat-negative society

★ of course, baby boy was immediately reassuring that his compliments and flattery towards you were always genuine; he ends up in a state where he’s just blabbering and rapidly motioning about how wonderful he thinks you are

★ by now, you’re melting in your seat, not sure how to proceed. yet, you take a leap of faith and peck him on the cheek

★ that cheek peck soon turned to him giving you one, then you two kissing, and finally you two making out and nearly breaking a nearby flower pot

★ with you as his romantic partner, elliott is on top of the world and is able to finish his romance novel camelia station a few weeks later

★ he dedicates the book to you and a few other important figures in his life, your dedication being something along “my darling muse, your presence was the key to this novel’s completion”

★ with camelia station finished and on the shelves, elliott starts on his second book, a romance between a plus-sized lighthouse keeper and a merman that may or may not bear a resemblance to the author in question

★ he’s still working on his second novel by the time you two tie the knot, thrilled that he was going to be living with you as your husband

★ elliott was always there for you when people were snarky about your size, ready to defend your honor like the gentleman he is

★ you two have been married for about a year when elliott finishes his latest novel, keeper of the glistening sea, and you’re finally able to read it!!! you’re full of awe and joy while reading through it, catching the similarities between you and the protagonist

★ to elliott, you’re his muse, his living aphrodite, with a body like the sculptures dedicated in her own

★ to you, elliott’s your gentleman, your right hand man and your light in the darkest of hours

#honey crypt babbles #sdv #stardew valley #plus sized #fat #plus sized reader #fat reader #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #sdv elliott x reader #stardew valley elliott x reader

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book--brackets · 2 months

Text

The Mistborn Saga by Brandon Sanderson (2006-2022)

For a thousand years the ash fell and no flowers bloomed. For a thousand years the Skaa slaved in misery and lived in fear. For a thousand years the Lord Ruler, the "Sliver of Infinity," reigned with absolute power and ultimate terror, divinely invincible. Then, when hope was so long lost that not even its memory remained, a terribly scarred, heart-broken half-Skaa rediscovered it in the depths of the Lord Ruler's most hellish prison. Kelsier "snapped" and found in himself the powers of a Mistborn. A brilliant thief and natural leader, he turned his talents to the ultimate caper, with the Lord Ruler himself as the mark. Kelsier recruited the underworld's elite, the smartest and most trustworthy allomancers, each of whom shares one of his many powers, and all of whom relish a high-stakes challenge. Only then does he reveal his ultimate dream, not just the greatest heist in history, but the downfall of the divine despot. But even with the best criminal crew ever assembled, Kel's plan looks more like the ultimate long shot, until luck brings a ragged girl named Vin into his life. Like him, she's a half-Skaa orphan, but she's lived a much harsher life. Vin has learned to expect betrayal from everyone she meets, and gotten it. She will have to learn to trust, if Kel is to help her master powers of which she never dreamed.

This saga dares to ask a simple question: What if the hero of prophecy fails?

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (2013)

A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn't thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she'd claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse where she once lived, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy.

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire (1995-2011)

When Dorothy triumphed over the Wicked Witch of the West in L. Frank Baum’s classic tale, we heard only her side of the story. But what about her arch-nemesis, the mysterious Witch? Where did she come from? How did she become so wicked?

Gregory Maguire has created a fantasy world so rich and vivid that we will never look at Oz the same way again.

Wicked is about a land where animals talk and strive to be treated like first-class citizens, Munchkinlanders seek the comfort of middle-class stability, and the Tin Man becomes a victim of domestic violence. And then there is the little green-skinned girl named Elphaba, who will grow up to become the infamous Wicked Witch of the West—a smart, prickly, and misunderstood creature who challenges all our preconceived notions about the nature of good and evil.

The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice (1976-2018)

This is the story of Louis, as told in his own words, of his journey through mortal and immortal life. Louis recounts how he became a vampire at the hands of the radiant and sinister Lestat and how he became indoctrinated, unwillingly, into the vampire way of life. His story ebbs and flows through the streets of New Orleans, defining crucial moments such as his discovery of the exquisite lost young child Claudia, wanting not to hurt but to comfort her with the last breaths of humanity he has inside. Yet, he makes Claudia a vampire, trapping her womanly passion, will, and intelligence inside the body of a small child. Louis and Claudia form a seemingly unbreakable alliance and even "settle down" for a while in the opulent French Quarter. Louis remembers Claudia's struggle to understand herself and the hatred they both have for Lestat that sends them halfway across the world to seek others of their kind. Louis and Claudia are desperate to find somewhere they belong, to find others who understand, and someone who knows what and why they are.

Louis and Claudia travel Europe, eventually coming to Paris and the ragingly successful Theatre des Vampires--a theatre of vampires pretending to be mortals pretending to be vampires. Here they meet the magnetic and ethereal Armand, who brings them into a whole society of vampires. But Louis and Claudia find that finding others like themselves provides no easy answers and in fact presents dangers they scarcely imagined.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (1865-1876)

After a tumble down the rabbit hole, Alice finds herself far away from home in the absurd world of Wonderland. As mind-bending as it is delightful, Lewis Carroll’s 1865 novel is pure magic for young and old alike.

Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer (2001-2012)

Twelve-year-old Artemis Fowl is a millionaire, a genius—and, above all, a criminal mastermind. But even Artemis doesn't know what he's taken on when he kidnaps a fairy, Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon Unit. These aren't the fairies of bedtime stories—they're dangerous! Full of unexpected twists and turns, Artemis Fowl is a riveting, magical adventure.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (2008)

Bod is an unusual boy who inhabits an unusual place--he's the only living resident of a graveyard. Raised from infancy by the ghosts, werewolves, and other cemetery denizens, Bod has learned the antiquated customs of his guardians' time as well as their ghostly teachings--such as the ability to Fade so mere mortals cannot see him.

Can a boy raised by ghosts face the wonders and terrors of the worlds of both the living and the dead?

The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan (1990-2013)

The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.

When The Two Rivers is attacked by Trollocs—a savage tribe of half-men, half-beasts— five villagers flee that night into a world they barely imagined, with new dangers waiting in the shadows and in the light.

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman (1996)

Under the streets of London there's a place most people could never even dream of. A city of monsters and saints, murderers and angels, knights in armour and pale girls in black velvet. This is the city of the people who have fallen between the cracks.

Richard Mayhew, a young businessman, is going to find out more than enough about this other London. A single act of kindness catapults him out of his workday existence and into a world that is at once eerily familiar and utterly bizarre. And a strange destiny awaits him down here, beneath his native city: Neverwhere.

The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson (2010-present)

Roshar is a world of stone and storms. Uncanny tempests of incredible power sweep across the rocky terrain so frequently that they have shaped ecology and civilization alike. Animals hide in shells, trees pull in branches, and grass retracts into the soilless ground. Cities are built only where the topography offers shelter.

It has been centuries since the fall of the ten consecrated orders known as the Knights Radiant, but their Shardblades and Shardplate remain: mystical swords and suits of armor that transform ordinary men into near-invincible warriors. Men trade kingdoms for Shardblades. Wars were fought for them, and won by them.

One such war rages on a ruined landscape called the Shattered Plains. There, Kaladin, who traded his medical apprenticeship for a spear to protect his little brother, has been reduced to slavery. In a war that makes no sense, where ten armies fight separately against a single foe, he struggles to save his men and to fathom the leaders who consider them expendable.

Brightlord Dalinar Kholin commands one of those other armies. Like his brother, the late king, he is fascinated by an ancient text called The Way of Kings. Troubled by over-powering visions of ancient times and the Knights Radiant, he has begun to doubt his own sanity.

Across the ocean, an untried young woman named Shallan seeks to train under an eminent scholar and notorious heretic, Dalinar's niece, Jasnah. Though she genuinely loves learning, Shallan's motives are less than pure. As she plans a daring theft, her research for Jasnah hints at secrets of the Knights Radiant and the true cause of the war.

#best fantasy book #poll #mistborn #the ocean at the end of the lane #wicked #the vampire chronicles #alice’s adventures in wonderland #artemis fowl #the graveyard book #the wheel of time #never where #the stormlight archive

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ato-catto · 1 year

Text

Goku x fem reader

Old friends, new flames.

Implied smut/sensual/kissing/lust

You had been listing your shopping through your head and doing a few calculations when you suddenly hit something very warm and hard. Your basket flew out of your hand and the contents clattered to the ground, multiple vegetables and cans rolling in every direction.

Swearing under your breath and apologising to the person you crashed into, you began picking up the apples that had been sent rolling when a big strong hand covered yours, and you looked down, seeing a familiar shaped shadow of hair.

"Goku!?" Your eyes widened as your eyes flicked up to meet his big, friendly dark eyes.

He cocked his head. "Do I know you?"

Of course he would have forgotten you. Your days staying at Kame House were long behind you, having taken up residence in a busy village years before after you could no longer put up with Roshis ways.

"It's me, Y/N." You smiled. You couldn't have changed that much in a decade, surely?

You watched as the realisation dawned over his face, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Oh! Y/N! I didn't even recognise you!"

You barely had recognised him in such casual clothing, the only obvious thing making him Goku was his wild wave of black hair that waved slightly in the breeze. His orange gi had been replaced by beige jeans with a matching jacket, a white vest adorning his muscular chest beneath. His jacket sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his hands were caked in dirt- he looked the perfect part of a farmer.

You had heard in passing from Bulma that he had taken up farming, and continued to do so after Chichi kicked him out.

Goku continued to help you pick up your groceries, gathering them into his burly arms.

"How've you been, Y/N?" He beamed, his smile all sunshine and rainbows. It was terribly infectious, making a smile grow on your lips too.

"I've been alright. I've decided to give up fighting and just live a quiet life here in the village."

He looked slightly dissapointed by that, but he quickly realised it wasn't his place to judge. You looked happy- and that's all that mattered.

You still looked as radiant as the days back at Kame House when you all lived together. You had filled out slightly, matured a little in the face- but it had all made you so much more pretty looking.

Once your basket was refilled, Goku and you chitchatted, catching up on the last decade or so of lost time.

When the talk turned to his family, the shine waited from his eyes. "Ah, yeah." He sighed, resting an arm against his tractor. "Chichi finally snapped after Gohan left to live with Videl. She needed me to be around more, and earn more zeni, but I couldn't balance those things with my training." He scratched the back of his neck with a near shameful look on his face.

You lay a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and gave him a comforting look.

"In sorry Goku. Perhaps she just doesn't understand you passion."

Truly, you have never really liked Chichi's treatment of Goku. You had been present when she coerced him into marriage, and nearby when she had berated him for training to save the planet. She had her good moments, and she was a very good housewife, but they was she spoke to him made your heart ache. He was so gentle, so soft, and a little behind the moment at times- he didn't deserve to be treated in any other way but loving and understanding.

He was not human.

He was never going to be a human man, nor behave like one.

Gokus eyes strayed away, telling you he didn't want apart of this conversation anymore. You saw him let his mind go blank before that infectious smile crept back onto his lips. "Want a ride home in the tractor?" He asked with a certain childish excitement that didn't quite fit his muscles.

You grinned, happy to have the twenty minute walk home taken off your back. You hopped into the tractor beside him, fitting snuggly between his thigh and the edge of the plastic seat. The tractor rumbled to life and Goku pushed it into gear. You clung to his arm, worried that the bumps in the dirt would bounce you off.

Now that you had a more hands on approach to his well toned figure, you realised just how cut he was.

The muscles under his jacket tensed when he turned the wheel and your cheeks raised pink.

He had grown stronger and taller since you last saw him, but he was still the same old Goku. You wondered quietly while peering up with him if he had surpassed super Saiyan. He had grown into manhood nicely, even fathering two sons, so perhaps he had also grown into his Saiyan heritage?

Your thoughts were cut off when he turned to meet your eyes, both of you staring at eachother in awkward silence as the tractor trundled along.

His eyes stared blankly into yours, blinking. You stared back, caught offguard by his handsome face.

"Uuh-" he pulled a comical face. You cracked a grin and snorted.

"Oh you're still as silly as ever, Goku." You elbowed him, making his confusion morph into amusement.

"You were the one starin' at me!" He protested, leaning back in the chair, letting the tractor continue down the lane.

"I was just thinking." You hummed, adjusting the basket in your lap.

"Thinkin' about what?" He tilted his head.

"How powerful you've gotten. Did you ever surpass super Saiyan?"

His eyes lit up at the thought of his all time favourite subject, and the fact that you were taking interest in it. "I sure did! Far beyond that, infact!" He pulled over the tractor and engaged the breaks. He hopped down to the dirt road and stepped a few paces back into the empty feild beside them.

"Watch!"

You indeed did watch as he began to roar, powering up into Super Saiyan- then... Super Saiyan again?

"Uh. So you're a super Saiyan? Well done?"

Goku, with now piercing blue eyes and golden hair chuckled darkly. His voice always seemed to drop a few octaves when he transformed. "No, this is Super Saiyan two."

You frown, interested, but confused. "It looks exactly the same."

He gave you a rather mischievous grin that made your heart flop unexpectedly. "Alright, what about this!"

Five minutes of watching him scream and his muscles tensing was enough to drive you to a very sudden conclusion.

You were attracted to the man. Your old friend and sparring partner was making you blush.

It was an odd revelation to have but it was quickly brushed aside by a browless rapunzel of a man.

Goku had transformed once again, the energy around him crackling dangerously. His hair was down to his ankles now, and his eyebrows had vanished into supposed thin air. You went wide eyed.

"Wow!" You gaped. "What do you call that form?"

Goku smirked, his voice gruff. "Super Saiyan Three."

You shut your mouth and the disbelief was replaced with amusement. "That... that's a very creative name-." You snorted. Goku pouted, and deformed entirely.

"I have another form-" he began.

"Save it for my place." You laughed, your ears ringing and skin prickling from the energy he had dispelled. He hopped right back into the tractor beside you like the power he had just displayed was nothing at all.

Once you had guided him to your home, he parked the tractor beside your front door and hopped down, offering you a hand which you took, gladly. Something about this gesture made you feel safer than usual. Your hands were tiny in his, and he felt strong beside you.

The man was a literal pillar of Hope. In many ways.

He had saved the earth more times than anyone knew. And perhaps you loved him for that.

Inviting him in for tea was a given, and he obliged with a cheery smile. He sat awkwardly at your dining table, the chairs being a little too delicate for his heavy frame.

"Would you like juice or tea?" You asked, setting your basket on the side and running the tap.

Goku adjusted himself in the chair, his jeans uncomfortably tight. They werent like his gi. They didn't give room for his legs or junk like the loose material did. "I'll have a tea please." He beamed over his shoulder but once he turned back his frown furrowed and he grunted at the annoyance of his tight jeans. He tried to stretch them out, popping a quick squat.

You turned in confusion when you heard a might RRRRIP. And Goku stood before you with a rip in his jeans, flashing blue and white stripy cotton boxers.

"Waaaaugh!" He cried, beginning to freak out. "My pants! I was tryna' stretch 'em!!"

You covered your mouth and stifled a laugh, your eyes wide. "Oh gosh, Goku. You've wrecked your jeans entirely."

He pouted. "I know-"

He tried his best to pull the edges back together, but without a needle and threat that wasn't going to do any good.

You suggested taking them off. You had some XXL tracksuit pants laying around (that you wore for comfort reasons- the baggier the better) which you offered to him.

"Gee, thanks." He beamed, undoing his belt and slipping them down over his muscular legs. You turned back to the sink, not needing your pounding heart to make itself evident on your face.

Tossing the shredded jeans aside, he took a long breath as if he could breathe again. He borrowed the grey joggers and slipped them on, now just in your pants and the tank top. He looked... gloriously casual.

Your eyes lingered on him a little longer than they should of when he came to the counter to collect his tea cup. The grey joggers curved around him in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination in the crotch department. You found yourself salivating, your imagination running wild as to what was underneath.

Goku had been watching you. Your eyes seemed to glaze over in thought as your cheeks turned pink. He wondered what you were thinking about.

His eyes locked on yours caught you offguard once again, snapping you out of your less than pure train of thought. "Oh! Sorry-" you glanced away.

"Is something on your mind?" He asked, leaning on the counter beside you, shadowing you in the wake of his tall physique. His eyes were gentle and curious, and his hair shadowed his face.

"Not really." You bluffed. "Just thinking about what I forgot at the market!"

Goku blinked. "I can go back and grab whatever you need?" He suggested.

"No, no! It's fine." You blurted, trying to find a reasons in your mind to complete your lie. "I can get them tomorrow-"

Goku frowned slightly and leant forward, his face getting extremely close to yours. "You're lyin'." He accused gently, searching your eyes. "Why would you be blushin' about some forgotten groceries?"

Uh oh. You were completely caught- even if he didn't know the true intent of your zoning out, he had the gist of it.

Playing dumb was your only way out.

"I was blushing? I must have gotten too much sun while I was outside."

Goku wasn't having it. He had sunburn before. It doesn't appear and dissapear at a moments notice.

He didn't exactly appreciate being lied to, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to mince the truth out of you sooner or later. Goku always had a knack for weeding things out of people. Even Vegeta, the Prince of all Brick Walls.

"You don't have to lie to me, Y/N." He pressed, caging you against the kitchen side between his arms. He gave you an intense look- which from your perspective somehow looked both slightly threatening and comical.

"I- I am not lying." You back up until your back is pressed hard against the kitchen counter.

Goku only pressed closer, his nose touching yours as his eyes tried to penetrate your soul. You couldn't breathe. He was so close you could feel his warm breath on your cheek.

Was this some form of intimidation? You wouldn't admit regardless..

"Goku- I-" Everything was too intense. The air about you both changed. You glanced down at his mouth and back up to his eyes, your gut stirring.

Goku, admittedly had been attracted to you since the moment you smacked into him in the village. And now he had put himself in a predicament where he was so close he could taste you. Now it was his turn to go red. His breath hitched when your eyes moved to his lips.

"Y/N-" he begun, but the words stuck in his throat.

When you woke up this morning you didn't expect your afternoon to turn into the Saiyan pushing his lips to yours in an almost desperate fashion, pulling you up to place you on the counter so he didn't have to crane down. His big hands cupped your face and his heart beat hard against his ribs.

Perhaps he was just desperate after the separation. Or maybe it was something that had laid dormant in his stomach over the last decade- but his kisses became desperate and something manifested in him that even you hadn't seen before.

The tender, funny, gentle man had turned into a whimpering, handsy mess. Beating your passion by tenfold; you were nervous but eager but the Saiyan was in full swing, palming your curves and battling his tongue against yours.

And winning.

"Sah-" he breathed as he pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. You looked up at him, your eyes lidded, and cheeks warm.

"What was that for..?" You whisper, hands still balled in his vest against his chest.

Goku barely looks lucid, his eyes clouded over and lidded. "Huh-?"

He must've needed the female touch after being alone for so long, working the fields. All that testosterone must have worked its way up to his power-addled brain and made him desperate for attention.

You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, wiping the saliva away. "Goku.. Snap out of it."

He blinks a few times, and he's back to normal, smiling and dusting himself off, moving back and away from you. "Ah, sorry! Don't know what came over me!"

You frown. "Uh.. its alright."

He scratched the back of his neck and giggles. "You tasted like donuts- Its made me kinda hungry!"

You had donuts for lunch, but that was besides the point. "Goku, you just made out with me. You don't do that for no reason."

He pressed his lips into a line. "It.. felt right in the moment. Its a mistake, I'm sorry." The joy in his eyes seemed to flicker away. "Was that a bad thing to do?"

It was a sin to do that to you and never do it again.

It left you wanting so much more, rooting your young adulthood crush from the pits if your stomach.

"Of course not. I liked it."

"Oh."

He had liked it too- it was evident from the way he still kept glancing at your lips and licking his own.

"Oh?" You pressed.

"I did too. I just kinda expected you to be mad at me, s'all."

You brushed a stray hair from his eyes. "I could never be mad at you, Goku."

He responded well to tender words, his pupils going wide and his mouth coming in for another, more calculated, kiss. He had grown used to angry women and playful yet hard slaps- this gentleness from you was new and enticing.

Your hands ghosted up his sides, resting your fingers in the hem of the joggers. Goku's hands held the back of your neck, stabilising your head while he probed your mouth with his ever curious tongue.

Your teeth found his bottom lip and gently nipped on it, making him mewl deeply, his eyes cracking open a slit to make contact with yours. His brows quirked into a sensual frown, biting you back with equal verve. His hands found the bend of your back, shifting you round and placing you flat against the wall of the kitchen. Resting one hand on the wall beside your head and the other playing with the hem of your cami, fingers sliding under the material and brushing against the skin of your stomach.

His mouth found your jaw, then neck, the shoulder, brushing the spaghetti strap put of the way so he had access to all your skin there. You tilted your head back until it thudded against the wall, blissed by the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin.

Goku smelt of earth and grass before a rainstorm, a beautiful combination that suited him perfectly.

When he finally pulled away again, making you worried that he would distance himself for the second time, your fists clutching his vest.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna walk away. I just wanted to ask you something." His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite read, but made it made your stomach flop about like a fish.

"Oh? What is it?"

His hands found your jaw and he tilts your face up.

"Can we take this to the bedroom?"

#goku x reader #dbz #goku

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