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goldfades · 2 months ago

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LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBT──FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW

part two!!!

for this request!!

─ summary | you and father charlie share a bond that goes beyond the confines of your church duties, with your public image as a nurturing servant masking the frustration and resentment you harbor privately. when nun megan grows suspicious and begins spying, she uncovers the intimate, vulnerable side of your relationship, catching a moment where emotions boil over into something more forbidden

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader

─ word count | 6k

─ warnings | few kisses, kinda angsty, pretty wholesome though, nun megan being nosy AF, mentions/descriptions of being longing to be a mother + have a family, forbidden love, ends on a cliff hanger (part 2 coming soon, i just couldn't fit everything in one part)

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO). again this turned out very wordy and self-indulgent, my apologies

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The faint scent of incense lingers in the air, the wisps of smoke curling upward toward the stained glass windows, where muted beams of light filter through, casting the nave in shades of gold and crimson. The church is quiet now, save for the soft rustle of robes and the shuffling feet of the last parishioners as they take their leave. You remain rooted to your spot at the front, hands clasped in front of you, your gaze lowered in practiced reverence.

You’ve spent years perfecting this image—a serene, dutiful figure in service to the church. The warmth you offer is genuine, but it's also an armor, a shield from the world beyond the altar. You can feel their eyes on you as they depart, expecting grace, expecting humility, expecting nothing more than what you’ve always given them.

But beneath the surface, you can feel the stirrings of something else. The long hours, the endless work, the weight of expectations—it grinds against you, slowly wearing away at the image you’ve created. And no one sees it. No one, except him.

Father Charlie stands beside the altar, his back turned to you as he speaks to one of the deacons, his voice low and calming, as it always is. There’s something about him—something steady, something real—that draws you to him. He’s the only one who understands the pressures you both face, the only one who sees through the veneer you maintain for the sake of the church.

As the last of the congregation filters out, a wave of relief washes over you. The doors close with a soft echo, leaving the two of you in the lingering quiet of the empty church. You allow yourself to breathe, to let go of the tightness in your chest. It’s only in moments like these, when the others have gone, that you can finally be yourself—unburdened by the expectations of the flock, free from the eyes of those who can never truly understand.

But you sense it, don’t you? That something else is watching, something creeping at the edges of this sanctuary, waiting for you to slip.

You feel a prickle of awareness, an instinct, perhaps, that you’re not as alone as you think. But you push it aside, telling yourself it’s nothing—just the remnants of the day clinging to your thoughts. After all, in the safety of the church, what could possibly be wrong?

You step forward, closer to Father Charlie, your voice dropping to a murmur. “They never stop looking, do they?”

He turns toward you, and there’s a softness in his expression—something that tells you he’s been thinking the same thing. “No,” he says quietly, “they never do.”

You exchange a glance with Father Charlie, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. He sees the cracks in your facade, the weight you carry, but you don’t speak of it yet. Instead, you let the stillness of the church settle over you like a heavy cloak.

From the corner of your eye, you notice a figure lingering near the back of the nave, her sharp eyes scanning the room with a quiet intensity. Nun Megan.

She’s always watching, isn’t she? Always hovering on the fringes, her gaze lingering just a second too long whenever you’re near Father Charlie. At first, you thought it was nothing—just her usual vigilance. But lately, you’ve felt her eyes more than ever, probing, curious. She’s never said anything outright, but the suspicion is there, woven into every glance, every pause when the two of you are together.

Today is no different.

She lingers by the back pew, her hands folded in front of her, eyes flicking between you and Father Charlie, as though waiting for something, anything, to confirm what she already suspects. You can feel the weight of her judgment, subtle but ever-present, like a shadow you can’t shake.

Father Charlie hasn’t noticed her yet, his focus still on you as he speaks softly, a reassuring tone to his words. “You know we can’t let this consume us. What we do here… it’s bigger than us.”

His words are meant to calm you, to pull you back from the edge of frustration, but your thoughts are already racing. You glance toward Nun Megan again, just in time to see her quickly avert her gaze, pretending to adjust a candle on the altar. She’s watching—of course, she’s watching.

You wonder if she’s been watching longer than you realize.

“I know,” you say, your voice low. But the bitterness creeps in, twisting your words. “But sometimes I think we’re expected to be more than human. How long are we supposed to pretend we don’t feel anything?”

Charlie’s eyes soften, but before he can respond, you see him glance over your shoulder—finally catching sight of Nun Megan. The tension in the room shifts, subtle but palpable. He straightens, his face smoothing into the calm, composed expression he wears so well. “Sister Megan,” he calls out, his voice gentle but pointed.

She steps forward, her smile small and tight, her eyes darting between you both. “Father Charlie,” she says softly, inclining her head in a show of respect. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just… making sure everything was in order.”

Her words hang in the air, innocuous enough on the surface, but there’s something else there, hidden beneath her polite tone. You can see it in her eyes—the doubt, the questions she doesn’t dare ask.

Not yet, anyway.

Father Charlie offers her a kind smile, though you can tell he senses it too. “Everything’s fine, Sister,” he says. “We were just finishing up.”

But even as she nods and steps back, you know this won’t be the last time. She’ll keep watching, waiting for the moment when your guard slips. And when it does, she’ll be ready.

As Nun Megan retreats to the back of the church, your pulse quickens. You’ve held your composure for now, but the unease gnaws at you. The walls feel tighter, the air more stifling. She’s already too close, and it’s only a matter of time before she sees more than you want her to.

Father Charlie steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “We have to be careful.”

You nod, but inside, you know it’s already too late. Megan’s already seen enough to suspect—and suspicion, in a place like this, is dangerous.

───

You lay on Charlie's bare chest, still breathless from the earlier exertion. The warmth of his skin radiates beneath your cheek, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along the scars and soft ridges of his chest. The room is quiet, save for the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the muted sound of your heartbeats thrumming together in the aftermath of what you’ve just shared. The intimacy of the moment feels stolen—like something you shouldn't have, but neither of you can resist.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself sink into the softness of him, the way he smells of incense and something darker, something distinctly him. This is the one place where the world falls away, where the weight of your roles within the church, the expectations, the endless eyes watching your every move—they don't matter here. In these stolen moments, you’re not the pious Mother superior they expect you to be, and Charlie is not the solemn priest. Here, in the seclusion of your shared quarters, you are simply you and him.

He lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers brushing through your hair as if to anchor you to him, to the present. You shift slightly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are softer now, the usual veil of composure lowered, revealing the tenderness he reserves only for you. There’s a question in his gaze, though, something unspoken yet palpable, like a prayer hanging in the air between you both.

“Do you think she suspects?” you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, as though even here, in this hidden sanctuary, you’re afraid to speak too loudly.

Charlie’s hand stills for a moment in your hair, and he hesitates before answering. “She watches,” he says softly, his tone measured but tinged with a hint of unease. “Megan always watches.”

You bite your lip, trying to push away the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. Nun Megan’s eyes have been everywhere lately, her presence lingering in corners, her footsteps echoing in halls where no one should be. You can feel her judgment even when she’s not there, like a shadow creeping just behind you.

“What if she knows?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly. “What if she’s already seen too much?”

Charlie’s hand cups your cheek, drawing your gaze back to his. “We’ve been careful,” he reassures you, his voice steady and soothing. “But even if she suspects, we won’t let her tear us apart. Not here. Not now.”

His words should comfort you, but they don’t. There’s too much at stake—too many risks. And yet, despite everything, you can’t pull away. The bond between you both is too deep, too powerful to sever. You close your eyes again, letting the quiet blanket you both, willing the worries to dissolve into the stillness.

But somewhere beyond the walls of this sanctuary, you know Nun Megan is watching. Waiting. And it’s only a matter of time before the veil of secrecy slips, and the forbidden truth of what you share is laid bare.

The silence between you and Father Charlie feels heavier now, like the air has thickened with all the unspoken words and the knowledge that your time together might soon be fractured by someone else’s gaze. You shift your body, propping yourself up slightly on his chest so you can look at him fully.

His brow is furrowed, but he wears the same soft expression he always does when he's with you, the kind that calms your nerves even when the weight of the world presses in on you. You reach out and gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"You can’t be the one to carry all the worry," he murmurs, his voice deep and soothing, laced with that unwavering faith that you’ve come to rely on. He places his hand over yours, his thumb tracing circles against your knuckles. “I can see it in your eyes—you’ve been holding too much inside.”

You want to deny it, to say that you’re strong enough, that you can bear whatever comes next, but you know he’s right. There’s too much weighing you down—too many people to answer to, too many demands, and far too many secrets.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. “Not just of Megan… but of what happens if we get caught. What they’ll do to us. What they’ll do to you.” You lower your gaze, the vulnerability of the confession hanging between you like a leaden weight.

Charlie exhales softly, his hand moving to your jaw, tilting your chin up so that your eyes meet his again. There’s something fierce in his gaze now, an intensity that reassures you despite the uncertainty swirling around you both.

“Whatever happens,” he says, his voice firm, “we’ll face it together. They can’t take that away from us.”

“What if it’s not enough?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “What if this… this thing we share, this love—what if it’s not enough to save us?”

The church is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of peace and solace, but lately, it’s felt more like a prison. You can sense the walls closing in, the tension rising between the expectation of holiness and the very human desires you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Charlie shakes his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “It is enough,” he insists. “Love is the one thing that can’t be tainted by fear or doubt. What we have—it’s sacred in its own way. Even if the church sees it differently.”

For a moment, you let yourself believe him. His words wrap around you like a protective shroud, and in this space—this room, away from the watchful eyes of the others—it’s easy to imagine that maybe, just maybe, he’s right. That what you have can survive the scrutiny, the judgment, and the dangers that loom just outside these walls.

But as much as you want to cling to that hope, the doubt is still there, lurking at the edges of your thoughts.

You don’t say anything else, instead letting your head fall back against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. The sound is calming, a tether to the present, to this moment you share together.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you can’t shake the feeling that time is running out. That soon, Nun Megan will step beyond suspicion and into certainty, and when she does, the fragile world you’ve built with Charlie will come crashing down.

Outside, the wind howls against the old stone walls of the church, a reminder of the world waiting for you beyond this small sanctuary. But for now, for this brief and precious moment, it’s just you and him—together, against whatever comes next.

───

The sun hangs high in the clear afternoon sky, casting a golden light over the open field where the annual church picnic is in full swing. Children run through the grass, their laughter ringing out like tiny bells carried on the breeze, while the adults gather around tables laden with food, exchanging pleasantries and stories. You stand near the edge of the field, watching as a group of children pulls you into their game of tag, their faces lit up with joy and mischief.

You can’t help but laugh, your heart light as you chase after them, the stress and fear that have weighed on you for so long melting away, if only for a moment. The children's energy is infectious, their innocence a brief but welcome reprieve from the gravity of the world you usually inhabit. They dart around you, giggling and shrieking with excitement as they narrowly avoid your grasp, their small hands brushing against yours in passing.

You catch a young girl in your arms, swinging her around in a playful twirl before setting her down. Her laughter is so pure, so unburdened by the weight of the world, and it stirs something inside you—a long-forgotten lightness that you’ve almost forgotten was there.

From across the field, Father Charlie watches you, his eyes softening as they follow your movements. You are radiant in this moment, free from the burden of secrets and suspicion, your face bright with genuine joy as you interact with the children. His heart swells at the sight, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest.

He has always admired your strength—the way you carry so much, how you stand tall even when the weight of your responsibilities threatens to break you. But here, now, seeing you like this, surrounded by children, laughing freely, Charlie feels something different. Something deeper.

It's more than just admiration. It’s a longing, a quiet ache for something more than the life he’s chosen. Watching you with the children sparks a warmth inside him he hadn’t known he could still feel, a yearning for a different kind of closeness. One that he knows is forbidden, yet he can’t help but dream about.

You twirl around with another child, your smile wide as they tumble into your arms. For a brief second, you catch Charlie’s gaze from across the field, and your eyes meet. There’s something in his look that makes your breath catch—a tenderness, a softness that you’ve rarely seen outside the privacy of your hidden moments together. His lips curl into a small, almost shy smile, as though he’s caught himself staring but can’t quite tear his gaze away.

For a moment, it feels as if the rest of the world fades away. The laughter of the children, the hum of conversations, even the sounds of nature—all of it dulls into the background as you stand there, frozen in that quiet exchange with Charlie.

It’s a connection you feel deep in your chest, one that’s always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but is now rising to the forefront, too powerful to ignore.

The children pull you back into the game, and the moment is broken, but the warmth of Charlie’s gaze lingers with you. As you chase after the little ones again, you feel a blush creep up your neck, knowing that even here, in the open, with the church congregation all around, there’s something between you that no one else can touch.

Charlie tears his eyes away, his heart still beating a little faster than before. He forces himself to join in the casual conversations around him, but his thoughts remain with you, and that moment. He’s always been good at keeping his emotions at bay, keeping his desires hidden beneath the layers of duty and faith. But now, watching you like this, he feels those walls crumbling, just a little.

And for the first time in a long while, he allows himself to wonder: What would it be like to have this warmth—to hold onto it, to let it fill the hollow spaces inside him? What would it be like if the life he’d chosen wasn’t a barrier but something that could coexist with the connection he feels with you?

He shakes his head, trying to push the thoughts away. But they cling to him, persistent, like the warmth in his chest that refuses to fade.

As the afternoon wears on, and the children slowly tire out, you make your way back toward the picnic tables where the rest of the congregation was. Your cheeks flushed with exertion, your hair slightly wind-tossed, and you catch Charlie watching you again, and this time, there’s something in his gaze that makes your heart flutter—a promise, perhaps, or a confession yet to be spoken. Charlie begins making his way over to you, a warm smile on his lips.

One of the little girls run up to you once again, practically tumbling into your arms. You giggle, grabbing her waist and pulling her into your lap.

"Mother Y/N, have you ever wanted children?" she asks.

Her question catches you off guard. The little girl's innocent eyes peer up at you, wide and curious, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. You feel Charlie’s presence nearby, his footsteps slowing as he hears the question, and your heart skips a beat.

You smooth the girl's hair back gently, buying yourself a second to gather your thoughts. Children… it’s not something you’ve allowed yourself to think about much, not with the path you've chosen. Being a mother in the literal sense feels like an impossible dream—something meant for another life, another version of you.

Still, the warmth of the child in your lap, her trust and affection, tugs at something deep inside you.

You smile softly, running your fingers through her hair. “I suppose I have,” you admit, your voice gentle. “There was a time when I thought I might have a family of my own one day. But now... I think my place is here, taking care of all of you.”

The little girl tilts her head, a frown crossing her face as she processes your words. “But wouldn’t you like to be a real mama?” she asks, her small hands gripping your arm as if to anchor you to the moment, to the question.

Before you can answer, you feel a presence behind you—Charlie has arrived. He crouches down beside you, his hand brushing your shoulder in a gesture so natural, so easy, that it almost makes your heart ache.

“The way you care for everyone here,” he says softly, his voice warm and filled with admiration, “I think you’re already a mother to so many.”

You glance up at him, your eyes meeting his, and there’s something in his gaze—something gentle and understanding, but also deeper, more personal. His words resonate in a way that goes beyond the roles you’ve both taken on within the church. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it—what it would be like if things were different, if you and Charlie could have a life beyond the confines of the walls you’ve built around yourselves.

The girl beams, nodding in agreement. “See? You’re like a mama to us already,” she declares, then wraps her small arms around your neck in a tight hug before hopping off your lap and running back toward the other children, her energy renewed.

You watch her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. When you turn back to Charlie, he’s still crouched beside you, his expression softened by something you can’t quite put into words.

“You handled that well,” he says quietly, his smile reaching his eyes.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think I was prepared for that kind of question, if I'm being honest.”

He chuckles too, and for a brief moment, the world feels lighter, the weight of everything you’ve been holding inside lifted by the simple connection between you two.

But as the children’s laughter echoes around you and the other parishioners continue with their picnic, you feel the weight of reality creeping back in. This quiet moment with Charlie—this glimpse of what could be—feels like a fleeting dream. You know the path you’ve both chosen is far more complicated than that. Yet, as you stand together in the warm afternoon sun, you allow yourself to linger in this feeling for just a little while longer.

Charlie’s hand brushes against yours, lingering for just a moment, and you know that whatever happens next, whatever challenges come your way, you won’t be facing them alone.

───

The last light of day has faded, leaving the courtyard steeped in a deep, quiet twilight. You stand by the fountain, your fingers tracing the cold, rough surface of the stone. You try to breathe deeply, but frustration gnaws at your insides. On the outside, you wear the same mask you always do—calm, nurturing, and devout. But inside, there’s an ever-present storm, growing louder by the day.

Your thoughts drift back to Father Charlie, to the comfort he offered earlier. His words felt like a balm on your wounds, but they didn’t erase the resentment. The weight of expectations presses on your shoulders—constant demands, endless servitude, all while suppressing the truth of who you are.

Your gaze flickers toward the chapel, half-hoping to see him stepping into the courtyard. But the figure that emerges from the shadows isn’t him.

Nun Megan.

Her steps are silent but deliberate, and her eyes are as sharp as ever. You’ve noticed her watching lately—her gaze lingering on you and Father Charlie, suspicion glinting in her eyes.

“Out late again, I see,” she says, her voice carrying a quiet accusation. She stops a few feet away, her gaze fixed on you, unblinking. “You’ve been spending a great deal of time in Father Charlie’s company.”

You stiffen at her words, but force yourself to remain composed. You know how to wear the mask—how to keep the perfect image intact. “I seek guidance, Sister Megan,” you reply, your voice measured. “Father Charlie offers wisdom.”

Her lips press into a thin line, her expression hard. “Guidance, is it?” There’s no mistaking the suspicion in her voice now. “We all seek guidance, but you’ve been… close.”

The accusation hangs in the air between you, cold and heavy. You feel a flash of anger rise within you, but you suppress it, keeping your voice even. “We are all called to be close to God. To each other, Sister.”

Megan steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “Perhaps. But eyes are everywhere. You should be careful. It’s my duty to protect the sanctity of this place.” Her words are a thinly veiled threat, warning you that she’s watching.

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the tension.

“Sister Megan.”

You turn at the sound of Father Charlie’s voice, relief washing over you as he steps into the courtyard. His presence brings with it a sense of calm, as if the storm threatening to engulf you has momentarily eased. His gaze flicks between you and Megan, though when his eyes land on you, they soften.

“Is there a problem?” he asks, his tone neutral, but his eyes hold a silent reassurance.

Megan stands a little straighter under his scrutiny. She hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with challenging him, but her suspicion remains. “No, Father,” she says finally. “I was simply offering our sister here a reminder of her vows. It’s important we maintain propriety.”

Father Charlie’s expression doesn’t change. “Of course, Sister. We all must uphold our vows. You may return to your duties.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment, you think Megan might push further. But then she inclines her head and turns away, her steps sharp and purposeful as she leaves the courtyard. The weight of her presence lingers, like a shadow refusing to lift.

As soon as she’s gone, you exhale, tension slipping from your shoulders. Father Charlie steps closer to you, his voice low and steady. “She grows more suspicious.”

You nod, swallowing against the knot in your throat. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The mask you’ve worn for so long feels suffocating now, the weight of expectations unbearable.

Father Charlie’s expression softens, and when he reaches out, his fingers lightly brush your arm. “You’re not alone,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

His touch sends a spark through you, and for a moment, the weight of your burdens eases. But as you stand there, alone in the darkness with him, you know that the road ahead will only grow more difficult. Still, with him beside you, it feels less daunting.

You stay silent for a long moment, standing there with Father Charlie. His presence should be enough to calm you, but the weight of your thoughts has become unbearable, pressing down harder than ever before.

“I never wanted this life,” you finally whisper, eyes fixed on the fountain’s surface, the soft ripple of water reflecting the sky. “When I was a little girl, I dreamed of something else.”

Charlie says nothing, letting you speak, his silence a kind of permission.

You take a breath, the memories flooding back. “I used to imagine myself far away from here—away from society, the rules, the eyes always watching. I dreamed of having a family, children running through an open field, laughter filling the air. I wanted to be a mother,” your voice wavers slightly, “to nurture my own, not just serve others.”

The words feel strange as they leave your mouth, like a confession you’ve never dared to speak aloud. Even though you’ve lived in service, dedicating yourself to this life, there’s always been a gnawing ache inside you for something more—something that belonged solely to you.

“I imagined a small cottage,” you continue, your voice growing softer, “with a garden, flowers blooming. Somewhere far from this place, where no one could judge me, where I could be free. I wanted to love, to build a life that was mine.”

Father Charlie shifts closer, his hand lightly brushing against yours, offering silent support.

“But instead… I ended up here.” The words hang in the air, heavy with regret. “I thought I was doing the right thing, choosing this path. I thought it would bring me peace. But it didn’t. It feels like every day, I’m giving up more of myself—burying my real desires so deep I hardly recognize them anymore.”

Your throat tightens as a tear escapes, sliding down your cheek. The picnic earlier flickers in your mind, how for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel happiness. Real happiness. Sitting under the sun with him, laughing, letting your guard down—it had stirred something in you, something real and raw, a glimpse of the life you had always wanted.

“That picnic…” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “For the first time in so long, I felt alive. I didn’t feel like the person everyone expects me to be. I felt like… me.”

Father Charlie’s gaze softens, and he doesn’t pull away when you step closer, his presence like a steadying force. “It’s not wrong to want more,” he says gently. “You deserve to feel whole.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you confess, your voice trembling. “I’ve given up so much already. What’s left of me?”

He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, and in them, you see the same conflict, the same struggle that mirrors your own. “There’s still time,” he says, his words a quiet promise. “There’s still time to find yourself.”

Tears spill freely now, and before you can stop yourself, you collapse into his arms, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, the walls around your heart crumble, and you let yourself feel the ache of all you’ve lost—the life you could have had, the dreams that seem so distant now.

“I wanted a family,” you whisper into his shoulder, your voice breaking. “I wanted to be a mother, to love, to be loved. But instead…”

He tightens his arms around you, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are loved. In ways you may not see yet.”

Father Charlie holds you close, his arms steady around you as your tears soak into his robe. The dam has broken, and there’s no holding back the flood of emotions anymore. You cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s crumbling beneath your feet, each sob rising from a place so deep it scares you.

“I thought… I thought if I buried those dreams long enough, they’d go away,” you murmur into his shoulder. “But they haven’t. They’ve only grown louder. I see families, mothers with their children, and it��s like a knife in my heart. I want that—so much it hurts.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, eyes searching his face for understanding. His brow furrows, concern etched into every line. “I feel trapped here,” you continue, voice cracking. “I’ve spent my life giving and giving, but no matter how much I give, I can’t find peace. All I ever wanted was a simple life, with love. But instead, I’m… this.”

Father Charlie’s hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “You’re not alone in this,” he says, his voice soft but resolute. “I see your struggle, and I feel it too. Every day I ask myself if I made the right choice. If this is what my life was meant to be.”

The vulnerability in his words makes your breath hitch. You’ve never heard him speak like this before, never knew he had the same doubts gnawing at him. It’s both terrifying and comforting at once—knowing that even someone like him, someone who always seems so sure, is just as lost as you are.

“I don’t know how to keep pretending,” you admit, your voice a fragile whisper. “That picnic, earlier today… it felt like a glimpse of the life I could’ve had. And for just a moment, I was happy. Truly happy. But then it all came crashing back—the guilt, the expectations. The life I chose. It feels like a prison.”

Father Charlie’s thumb pauses on your cheek, and he lets out a slow breath. “I understand,” he says quietly. “More than you know.”

The air between you feels heavy, thick with unspoken truths and shared pain. There’s something unspoken in his gaze, a longing that mirrors your own, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s wrestling with the same thoughts—if his dreams have also been sacrificed for a life he’s no longer certain of.

“I never thought…,” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. “I never thought I’d feel this way, here of all places.”

His hand slips from your cheek to your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. “Feelings are complicated,” he says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Sometimes, we think we’ve made peace with our choices, but deep down, our hearts tell a different story.”

A silence stretches between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. There’s something raw and honest about this moment, like the two of you are finally shedding the masks you’ve been wearing for so long.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice barely audible. “I feel so lost.”

Father Charlie’s gaze softens, and he leans in just slightly, his face close. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to face this alone.”

The weight of his words settles over you like a blanket, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to carry this burden on your own. Maybe there’s room for something more—something real.

Your heart races in your chest, and you take a shaky breath, eyes locked with his. The closeness between you feels electric, every nerve in your body attuned to his presence, to the quiet intensity in his gaze. It’s dangerous—this connection. You both know it.

But in this moment, it’s all you have.

───

The church bells have just finished ringing, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. You stand outside with Father Charlie, your heart still heavy from the morning’s sermon. The congregation begins to disperse, everyone offering quiet blessings to one another as they leave. You and Father Charlie remain, lingering by the old stone archway. It’s quieter now, the sacred stillness of the church grounds wrapped around you both like a secret.

He turns to you, his gaze soft and familiar, and you can feel the pull between you—stronger now than ever. The unspoken connection that had simmered all week after your vulnerable conversation feels unbearable in its intensity.

“I shouldn’t…” you start, but your words falter as he steps closer, the warmth of his presence radiating into the space between you.

“I know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. But the way his eyes flicker from yours to your lips betrays his struggle, mirroring your own.

Before either of you can talk yourselves out of it, your lips meet in a kiss. It’s soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, fueled by the weight of everything you’ve been holding back for so long. The world seems to disappear—just the two of you in a moment stolen from time itself, as your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

The kiss is both a comfort and a confession, a silent surrender to everything you’ve been too afraid to say. You clutch the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer, needing to feel the solidness of him, to anchor yourself in this forbidden moment.

But then, a gasp—a sharp intake of breath that slices through the intimacy like a blade. You break apart, breathless, and turn to see Nun Megan standing at the edge of the churchyard. Her face is a portrait of shock and disbelief, eyes wide, hand clasped over her mouth as though she cannot believe what she’s just witnessed.

Your stomach drops, cold dread flooding your veins.

“Goodness…” she whispers, her voice laced with horror, “what have you done?”

Father Charlie immediately steps back, but the damage is done. The air is charged with accusation, and you can see the betrayal written across her face. The weight of your actions crashes down around you, guilt mixing with panic.

“Megan, it’s not—” Father Charlie begins, but there’s no stopping her now. She turns and rushes back toward the church, her steps frantic as if she’s running to report what she’s seen, to stop the corruption before it spreads further.

You and Father Charlie are left standing in the aftermath, the kiss lingering on your lips, now tainted with the knowledge that everything is about to change.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nicholas chavez #charlie mayhew #father charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez fluff #father charlie x reader #father charlie smut

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madrone33 · 3 months ago

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Number 1 Rule of adapting the Odyssey into EPIC is: if it can be more dramatic, it will be more dramatic.

The Greeks decide to throw the infant Trojan prince from the walls because they're scared he'll try to avenge his family? No, Zeus comes down to personally give Odysseus a vision of being killed and says his family WILL die. Kill the baby that reminds you of your son right now, it's the gods will.

Odysseus goes to greet the inhabitants of an island and gets trapped in a cave for two days by the cyclops that's eating his men one by one? Nope, we got BOSS BATTLE 30v1 in the Ithacans' favour until BAM fourteen pancakes are made by Polyphemus' club and oh shit Polites is DEAD-

Athena is just vaugely absent for the whole journey until the end? We got emotionally charged platonic breakups instead, with yelling and insults and "well I'm breaking up with you FIRST!"

Smooth sailing to Ithaca? STOOOORM-

Odysseus' great-great-great-grandfather giving him a speed boost to help him on his way home? Get ready for trickster wind gods, mischievous winions, and a game that was rigged from the start.

Random-ass suspicious and greedy crew mates open the bag? It's Eurylochus, his second in command, his brother-in-law, the man he trusted, Eurylochus WHYYY

Parking in the wrong harbour and getting boulders thrown at the fleet by angry man-eating giants while Odysseus backs away veeery slowly? Nah Poseidon himself pulls up to dunk on them, and Odysseus has to make a last minute getaway using the power of STOOORM to avoid being curbstomped like his fleet.

Odysseus gets some stronger drugs from a god to make him immune to the other drugs of a goddess? Well these drugs actually give him magic powers which he uses to engage in a Pokémon/Yu-Gi-Oh style BOSS BATTLE!

Get some closure with dead loved ones and acquaintances, and be the first interviewer of the fallen heroes of past ages? Nope, we just got TRAUMA and a whole boatload of guilt!

A neat outline of what the rest of the journey will look like, a warning against an island of cows that will slow him down, and the way to appease Poseidon? This Tiresias just says "Y'know there used to be a world where you made it home, BUT I DON'T SEE IT NO MORE. IT'S GONE. IT'S OVER. Also, your palace is fucked."

Sailing past the sirens while getting to be the first mortal to hear their song and live? M U R D E R

Sailing past Scylla to avoid Charybdis and accidentally getting six men eaten because he thought he could totally take Scylla, even though Circe said he couldn't, and then he realised he, in fact, cannot take Scylla? ... Eurylochus, light up six torches.

Eurylochus waits till Odysseus is out hunting and then goes behind his back to mutinously rally the crew and feast on some sacred cattle? Betrayal on both sides, stabby stab, K.O., and then Odysseus helplessly watches them make the greatest mistake of their lives as they ignore his pleas.

Quick clean and easy lightning-strike to the ship, leaving Odysseus to cling to some driftwood and paddle away? Zeus himself appears to the mortals, monologues, makes Odysseus be the one to choose, and then smites the whole ship leaving Odysseus to nearly drown anyway.

Telemachus gets advice from a disguised Athena to yell at the suitors and then sail away to look for news of his missing father? Telemachus gets into a full on beatdown with the suitors and gets FIGHT CLUB TRAINING from Athena!

Athena goes "dad I want my favourite mortal back? Did you forget about him? I think you forgot about him" and Zeus instantly replies "nonsense. How could I have forgotten that funny little mortal? Of course you can have him back my sweet favoured child <3" and then Athena skips off to Ithaca? "Father please-" "LIGHTNING BOLT! ANOTHER LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT TO THE FACE HOW DARE YOU ASK ME OF SUCH A THING!"

Poseidon does a double take "wait they let him go?? Oh hell nah!" and then sends a giant fuck off storm for Odysseus to swim through until he reaches the Phaeacians? No, Poseidon's just been there on Ithaca's shores, waiting for eight years, now get in the water BITCH- except Odysseus is just like "oh yeah? Fucking FIGHT ME"

You thought the suitors in the Odyssey were bad? Jorge really just said "dial that shit up to ELEVEN"

#the odyssey #epic the musical #funny #literally any chance Jorge gets he adds a boss battle XD #long post #my posts #don't take this seriously #tw swearing #Edit: typos

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earthtooz · 3 months ago

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earth i need to catch up on ur ratio fics (i read some of flower one and i ate that shit up omg) because now the thought of seething annoying veritas being all angry whenever you even look at someone else infests my mind like an annoying worm. i hope you know this is what those fics do to me

x : EQUILIBRIUM : *+ﾟ

in which: ratio navigates through the perplexities of pining after you.

warnings: fluff, 1.6k words, intelligentsia guild!gn!reader is kind of a social butterfly and talkative, ratio is so pathetic i love him T^T, alcohol, aventurine feature! my writing isn't the best for this one i apologise :,D

a/n: thank u for the ask mhie!! i wanted to say that you enabled me perfectly because ever since his release, i've only ever thought about this one scenario where he's staring at reader from afar and absolutely seething because he's not the one talking to them xD sorry for taking so long omfg and im sorry for turning this into a fic, i just saw my opportunity and lunged at it like an animal rawr

Jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio.

He knows of them, understands the inner workings and philosophical aptitude of both, knowing that they lead man down irrational paths. Yet, for all his years, he has not felt the bitterness of jealousy and envy squeeze him, cannot fathom why one cannot control their feelings and maintain modesty.

Perhaps, the root of it was whatever Ratio wanted, he received. The only thing he has ever craved is knowledge, and it is available for him with the flick of a page, absorbing even the most complex of theories with ease. Conceptual, mathematical, scientific- not a single school of thought has hidden itself from his vast mind, proven by the many PhDs he has with his name.

Everything fickle that anyone could ever crave has long been his.

Envious over someone else’s wealth? Money comes and goes, and merely serves as a medium of exchange. As long as he has enough to live comfortably, then he is content. Having too much of one thing can often result in a bottomless pit of wanting more, and material good was perhaps the most evil of all.

Jealous over someone else’s beauty? Compliments and adoration are not an unfamiliar concept to him; one glance at what’s under that stone mask will have others fawning over him instantly. He claims the mask is to protect him from idiots, but perhaps it also serves to shield others from the walking sculpture that is the Veritas Ratio, sharp features and toned body, there is nothing undesirable about him.

In conclusion, jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio. Until he met you.

A fellow member of the Intelligentsia Guild but in another department, you too are a favoured delegate of the IPC, frequently attending the same events and trips as him. Thus, it was only natural that you’d become acquainted and that he’d grow to respect you, hearing about your achievements and dedications as an academic. What was unnatural, however, was the palpitations of his heart, weakness in his knees, paired with an overwhelming excitement to see you.

He’s no fool. These sensations were all symptoms of romantic attraction, but you were a variable uncounted for in the distribution of his life, and he was not ready for an outlier so powerful that it completely ‘skewed’ him over.

Now, he laments in the corner of champagne parties meant for socialites. He is no lover of mundane interaction but as his contract with the IPC, he comes as a representative of the Intelligentsia Guild.

These formal events always drained the life out of him, needing him to discard his everyday, flowey, carefree attire for a constraining suit, conforming him into the regular majority.

He raises the glass of champagne to his lips and takes a small sip, the liquor serves as lubricant to the throat. The smooth finish of the drink is exactly what he needs; talking about the same subject again and again becomes exhausting, and even though it is in his role criteria, Ratio cannot wait to leave.

But he won’t, because he hasn’t seen you yet.

Glancing around the room for the upteemth time this evening, you still have not entered his line of sight, and he leans against the bar in disappointment.

“Oh, why the long face, Ratio?” A mischievous voice coos from beside him. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Spare me your sentiments, gambler,” Ratio spits back.

“As you wish. Not enjoying the party?”

“If you have something you wish to say then please, spare me the pleasantries.”

Aventurine laughs, all boisterous and extravagant, gold jewelry clicking against each other, as if coming alive to match his jovialness. He really is a personified headache. “You’re looking for someone, aren’t you?”

The scholar tenses, muscles tugging at the stiff fabric of his blazer, but that micro action was enough of an answer for Aventurine.

A gloved hand points up to the mezzanine of the grand hall. Ratio spots you, leaning against the railing whilst conversing with another man, one briefly talked to earlier. If he didn’t like him before, then he certainly didn’t now.

Handsome face turning into a small scowl, it’s almost as if you feel the intensity of a certain, golden stare, causing you to turn around and find the source, eyes eventually landing on the figures of a coworker or two. A brief smile graces your face before you turn around again, turning your back on the two onlookers.

Ratio loathes what he sees, and something within him yearns to be the only man you look at, causing an ugly, green sensation to brew within him; a concoction that can only be labelled as ‘jealousy’.

He just cannot figure out what other men have that he doesn’t; what is making him secondary in your heart? Why do you give these... idiots the time of day when you could be with him- talking to him?

It's all too perplexing, you make him perplexed.

“Well, go on, doctor,” Aventurine prompts. “Place your bets before it’s too late.”

The purple-haired sighs, pushing himself off the bar. His feet take him to you, up the velvet-carpeted stairs. His gaze never strays from you, ensuring you stay within his line of sight and eventually, he stops right behind you, acting as a looming shadow.

His gaze is cold, hoping to pierce through your conversation partner so he can finally cower away and make room for Ratio.

“Doctor!” You exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

Taking a hint, the stranger finally begins to peel himself away. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/n. I hope this won’t be our last conversation.”

“Likewise, have a lovely evening,” you farewell him with a small smile as the other party turns and eventually disappears from sight.

Finally. Triumph and victory settles in Ratio’s chest when your attention is directed solely at him, but you look up at him with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

“I swore I saw you downstairs moments ago, how did you get up here so fast?”

“I simply walked a normal pace, is that so abnormal?”

“I suppose not,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Veritas allows himself a glance over of your outfit, admiring you. “Have you talked to anyone interesting?”

You are by far the most interesting part of the evening, he thinks.

“Hardly,” he murmurs.

“My guess is that you’d prefer to be grading student papers?” You muse, leaning in closer.

His heartbeat spikes. “Well, that is hard to say. Which would you prefer?”

“As much as I love my students, I need a break from the same thesis statements regurgitated in different formats. I’d rather be here.”

“Then that is my answer too.”

You give him a look that says ‘really?’, clearly not believing his aloof statement. Truthfully, he would rather be here because here is where you are, and he’d like a few moments with you before returning to the gloominess of his office. The hour hand is only at 11, what’s the rush?

Then, your eyes flicker to his neckline and they widen briefly, as if finding an issue with his tuxedo. “Hold still,” you command, hands coming up to rest on his sturdy chest.

You’re fixing his tie, he realises, feeling the fabric tighten ever so slightly as you adjust it. When you’re done, you flatten out the material with a satisfied smile, running your hands casually over his chest, and he hopes you cannot feel his heart jump. How do you touch him so easily, as if it means nothing?

“It was crooked,” you explain, “now you are looking as sharp as ever, Doc.”

“Thank you,” is the best thing he can sputter out.

“No problem, we need to have our genius looking proper at all times!”

Ratio is too stunned to speak, he fears that if he tried, whatever leaves his mouth will result in a various garbles and attempts at sentences.

Thankfully, you haven’t run out of words to say. “Oh, I have yet to get a drink! Will you accompany me? I could go for some refreshments right now.”

He nods and extends an arm for you to hold, and you happily accept it, holding onto his bicep as you ramble on about a conversation exchanged earlier in the night. If you were anyone else, he would not have cared in the slightest, but instead, he listens intently, taking slow and measured steps downstairs so you are comfortable.

In this bubble, the esteemed scholar is content. With you so close, it feels as if everything has clicked into place, like the scales of fate have finally balanced and equilibrium has been achieved. He could listen to you forever.

Unfortunately, all good things don’t last, because a face Ratio doesn’t recognise approaches you, hand resting on your shoulder. Judging from the manner of which they address and talk to you, you are close, and you don’t shrug them off. Next thing he knows, you’re ripped away from him, dragged into the sea of people.

You spare him a glance over your shoulder, as if apologising for the sudden disruption.

Still, he sighs, left behind with nothing but fervent symptoms of love clinging to his being, squeezing him for all he is.

#earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff

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oxydiane · 1 year ago

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we talk a lot about how sasuke and naruto are so crazy about each other but there’s never enough attention on how the rest of the naruto cast Also thinks they are two fucking lunatics. like we are not alone on this. you have jiraiya telling naruto he needs to not go and chase a mf who tried to snatch his heart out his ribcage and naruto is like no i’d rather be a fucking moron for the rest of my life honestly. you have naruto leaving a mission and saying sory i cannot stay i need to go home and wait for sasuke and the fucking platypus looks at him ???? like he even had me confused where are you goin g to wait? ? why are you saying that like sasuke is coming back the fuck did i miss??? you have the kage summit arc which is just a whole bucket of ice being dropped onto you because you come in and immediately get slapped in the face by naruto letting himself be beat up because he won’t tell them where sasuke is??? like he has any fucking idea where sasuke is. and sai tries to make him come to his senses like naruto??? naruto WHAT ARE U DOING. it’s so bad they need an intervention. right after that naruto faces the raikage and gets on his knees saying i know my almost boyfriend almost killed your brother but i promise it wasn’t on purpose he was just being silly please don’t put a bounty on his head a war will literally ensue. and like. there’s LAYERS to this. 1. even RAIKAGE is like BOY what are you doing. STAND UP. 2. at this point you can count the people who like sasuke on the fingers of one hand like WHO is gonna start a war over him… naruto out there moving a war against a whole country by himself over his bf ok you go girl i guess. after this it gets even worse like gaara has to go up to him and be like SASUKE DOWSNT CARE ABOUT YOU. HE DOES NOT WANT YOU. and naruto just slaps his hand away in front of his family like rude?????? ignoring anything it is hilariouuusssss and then sai is like sorry. sakura lied to you they are actually off to kill sasuke and naruto gets a panic attack so severe he passes out. like i am not joking it was so bad his friends tried to kill sasuke behind his back. and then naruto escapes bedriddenment (is that a word?) after passing out from his panic attack to run and make sure NOBODY kills sasuke. like he’s on a RUSH leaping those trees he’s a boy on a mission. then after he gets there he’s like kakashi DO NOT TOUCH HIM. they launch themselves at each other bla bla gay monologues did you see what was in my heart and then. and then naruto is like. wait sasuke. and sasuke waits like sorry that’s such a little thing but it’s so funny to me like sasuke was just acting a lil murderous crazy manic wtv but naruto told him to wait and he waits. ok good boyfriend. anyways moving on naruto is like do you get it sasuke. if we fight again we will BOTH DIE! (everybody gets a ?????? bubble) i am the only one who can shoulder all that hatred. i will CARRY THE BURDEN OF YOUR HATRED AND WE WILL DIE TOGETHER! and . absolutely Everybody in that room just goes ???????????? what the FUCK is he TALKING ABKHT. everybody except sasuke. sasuke smirks and he’s like sure. they just talked about dying together and meeting each other in a different life where they’ll be free of their burdens and they’re just Fine and all ok smiling at each other and everyone is so fucking confused. like the entire supporting cast is with us side eyeing sasuke and naruto and thinking what in the everloving FUCK is WRONG WITH YOU????????

#it’s 4 am again #and i am thinking about sasunaru again #soo talks #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto shitpost #rant #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #pro sns

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awxcoffeexno · 3 months ago

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giving him a reason

logan howlett x human!reader

fic masterlist

summary: you've been on the run from the yakuza and are taking refuge in an old, forgotten family home. logan's been protecting you this whole while because that's just who logan is.

content: i've lifted the setting straight from the wolverine (2013). reader is taking mariko's place--reader is mariko, mariko is reader (no names are taken tho). lovemaking ensues. this fic is super tender and gentle because bitches need to remember how tender and gentle logan really is (i'm bitches). this is porn with no plot lolol. f!reader.

warnings: extremely 18+ content. MDNI. i'll kill u if you do. tender love making, logan goes down on reader like a champ, piv, reader is a virgin but logan's vvvvvvvvv gentle and caring, there's hardly any talking but there is proper consent taking, logan just wants to take care of reader, all is good in the world (at least for now), and logan's lost his healing powers so several mentions of him having bullet wounds.

word count: 3k (oops? might've gotten a teeny tiny bit carried away)

a/n: back at it again, but publishing my first nsfw fic, praying y'all don't hate me. if you don't like this, istg the nsfw version of claw worship is NEVER seeing light of day.

you hear him groan behind the door and the sound makes your heart catch.

you and logan have been on your feet all day, save for the train ride to the small village in nagasaki you've finally reached. running from the yakuza had decidedly not been your plan for the day after your grandfather's funeral but what choice did you have in coming here really?

not to mention... logan saved your life yesterday. several times. he was shot seven times per what the doctor told you.

and he is not healing. your grandfather told you that kuzuri had exceptional healing powers. he'd told you this several times. but logan is not healing at all and it makes you tic. he'd told you that this was the doing of your grandfather's doctor. you cannot imagine the agony he must be in.

you've never done well with seeing or hearing people in pain. yukio always suspected you had some type of emotionally perceptive powers but you don't think so. you just have an inherent need to help and that's that.

carefully, hopefully noiselessly, you slide the door to the bedroom open and though he has his back to the door, his neck is already craning towards you. apparently whatever that doctor lady did to take his healing powers did not dull his hearing.

he's standing shirtless, feet shoulder width apart to keep his balance, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat.

"may i see?" you ask and he takes a long, deep breath.

you stand in silence, at first waiting for him to decide and then watching him turn around, bloodied black shirt in hand and an uneasy vulnerability in his eyes.

his stitches look mostly in place apart from the ones on the wound on his abdomen that have started to bleed. you pad over and reach a steady hand out to touch gingerly around the wound.

logan's jaw tightens but he lets you examine him, his breath warm on your face.

he's burning hot and it would be startling but he'd explained yesterday that it's normal for him. his fever had started when he was 9 and it never broke. so you ignore the unnatural temperature of his skin and step away to find him a cloth and some hot water to clean himself with.

when you return, however, he has clearly already showered and is trying to tie a dark kimono on. you have no idea where he found it and his efforts on keeping it in place force you to bite back a smile.

"let me." you offer, putting the contents of your hand aside to help him.

he immediately pulls his hands away in defeat and you find yourself barely an inch away from him yet again. his breath on you makes your toes curl this time. there's something different about his stance, something... more inviting.

"you need this tied like a proper samurai," you explain as you work on the obi.

there's a moment of silence, the pitter pattering of the rain comforting in the silence. he's thinking, you realise.

"your grandfather called me a ronin." his voice is low. tentative. "a samurai without a master. he said i was destined to live forever... with no reason to live."

that's probably the most you've heard him speak.

you swallow thickly. "was he right?"

"yes," he says, voice laced with such melancholy, it makes you ache.

he has taken seven bullets for you knowing he isn't healing. dodged perhaps a hundred more whilst protecting you.

you remember how he'd stood directly in an open doorway in front of a gun-wielding yakuza man to distract him so that you could run. you'll never forget the sound of those bullets hitting his metal skeleton. like nails on a chalkboard.

he'd put his life on the line for you over and over and over again.

aren't you reason enough then? haven't you become reason enough? after everything you've both been through? together?

you muster up all the courage you can and stuff it into one word. "still?"

your eyes dart up to his for a flash before coming back down to finish up. you pull your hands away but... but after the two dreadfully long days that you both have spent together... after seeing him fight to so furiously to keep you safe the way he did... after everything, you simply cannot bear the thought of stepping back.

neither can he apparently because one of his large, warm paws comes up and cups your cheek, ever so slowly pulling you into a kiss.

something about you has been haunting him since he first looked into your eyes three days ago at your family home in the suburbs of tokyo. especially after you, like a goddamned fool, tried to jump off the roof. he cannot pretend to understand why he's been so taken with you but he knows if he hadn't stopped you from jumping that day, another part of him would've died.

he supposes it's something about the saddest eyes on some of the most beautiful women ever that draw him to them. first kayla, then jean, and now... you. and that's only in the last half-century.

so he kisses you, warm and gentle and desperate to comfort. he kisses you like that until you mewl into his mouth, soft and needy. and then his own need shifts.

still careful to be gentle, his hands slip into your hair to hold the back of your neck to angle you better for himself. he's a tall man and leaning too far down is causing him pain he isn't very used to.

you feel so small in his hold, his hand wrapped around the entirety of the back of your neck, fingers resting under your ears, soothing your tingling skin.

pulling away a little, you run a thumb across his cheek. a small, very small smile spreads across his lips.

"hey." he says, voice low and soft, making you blush.

this should feel wrong. he's the kuzuri your grandfather told you bedtime stories about. the kuzuri whose bravery and determination gave you the strength to also face your nightmares as a little girl. you shouldn't be doing this.

but maybe that's why it feels right. you feel safe around him. truly and wholly safe; something not harada or even your own father has ever made you feel. you've known this kuzuri your whole life and you know he'll protect you.

you don't even bother thinking about how you're engaged to noburo. no, you've heard enough whispers about him sleeping with other women after your engagement to him. it doesn't faze you in the slightest.

so you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his smile. you feel one of his hands run down your back, coming to a stop right atop the bow of your obi, sending a shiver of thrill down your spine.

you've never felt this excitement before. you and harada had never gotten this far and noburo... well, something about his predator like advances made you want to throw up, so you never even let him this close.

but here you are, in the arms of kuzuri, a literal predator, and you feel... warm. nice.

he looks at you, brows dipping in an ask for consent. when you nod, sucking your lip between your teeth, he yanks the obi open and gently slips your kimono off one shoulder.

your soft, smooth skin makes him bite back a primal growl. he'd hate to scare you off, but standing here in front of him in the glow of the moonlight, you look so edible.

leaning in, making your tummy do a backflip, he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. it makes you squeak and hold onto him tighter lest your knees betray you.

"logan!" you whisper with a gasp, feeling his teeth sink in and your feet leave the ground as he scoops you into his arms and takes you to the mattress in the middle of the room.

carefully, he kneels onto the floor and sets you down, his movement so light and tender it makes your heart ache.

pressing another kiss to your throat and then your mouth, he moves to place himself onto the mattress, between your legs.

you look at him with such big doe eyes, he cannot help but bring your hands together and press a soft kiss in the middle of your palms.

he then moves to undo your kimono like a wrapped present and take you in fully.

you're beautiful. the moonlight makes you shine, so perfectly womanly and delicate in his gaze.

reverently, he bends forward, right hand wrapping around your left thigh and pulling your legs apart so he can finally claim you with his mouth. his wounds ache for relief, the position actual torture but he barely even notices, so taken he is by your presence.

you push a lithe hand into his hair when you first feel his tongue, tugging as your hips arch up and you cry out his name.

"logan, god–"

he smiles into your mound, not having expected such a reaction this quick, but it only makes sense. you've both been so wound up after everything, you obviously need this.

"i know, princess," he coos as he licks a stripe across your leaking pussy all the way up to your clit.

he brings his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks experimentally and he's forced to hold your hips down when you moan out loud again. he was not expecting you to be loud in bed but he sees absolutely no reason to complain.

his tongue works on you expertly, undoing you with every lick and stroke and bite and suck. his fingers squeeze into your sides painfully hard, so badly wanting to mark you as his. he runs his hands down to your thighs and gently pulls them around his neck, sitting up to relieve the pain in his wounds, pulling you up with him.

"lo–"

"i've got you, you're okay," he reassures immediately, making your tummy flip again. he's so so so gentle and it kills you to have seen him as nothing but a brute until you reached the village.

his mouth continues to perform its delicious hot magic on your nerves as your eyes roll back in your head and you unconsciously reach up for one of your bared breasts. he freezes when he notices your movement, distracted like a cat having heard a mouse scampering across a field.

your eyes fly open to finding him watching your movements with a dark and hungry lust.

"don't stop," he urges and though his voice is strained, it isn't unkind. if anything, it almost sounds pleading.

how can you possibly deny him that? especially when he says it in that voice, looking at you with that expression.

so you continue, cupping a handful of your breast and squeezing gently, making yourself moan. he groans into your heat and buries his mouth back against your pussy, eyes never leaving your hands.

he continues his good work, watching you like a hawk as you knead your breasts, biting your lip. carefully, you circle your finger around one nipple as he sucks on your clit again.

you lose yourself to it, the rhythm of playing with yourself, the beautiful way it harmonises with his mouth, it's all so delicious. just like that, you feel yourself winding up, up, up...

"c'mon, princess," he encourages, "let go for me."

and you fall. fast and slow, all at once, right over the edge. you fall and fall and fall, and he continues to do the wicked thing with his tongue around your clit, lapping at your pussy and you give your everything to him.

he works you through it, moaning your name softly, his hands bruising your thighs until you slump in his hold. gently pulling your legs off his shoulders, he sets you down and crawls over you.

his hands come to rest on either side of your head and the warmth is so inviting, the scent of tobacco and his earthy musk filling your senses.

"can you give me another, angel?" he asks, kissing you right on the mouth so that you can taste yourself on his tongue; heaven, the mix of his need and your release tastes like heaven.

you shake your head no, too overstimulated but he's already working his way down to your breasts, leaving wet, hot kisses in his wake. and when he gets to one nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a soft groan, it sparks the fire right back up in your core.

"watching you play with yourself..." he murmurs, trailing off as he licks a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts before looking up at you.

the look in his eyes and his unrelenting mouth make you whine. "logan... need you."

that makes him smirk. how quickly he's worked you out.

"yeah? don't worry, babygirl," and he's spreading your legs apart again, "i'll take care of you."

he pulls the kimono off himself so quickly, you suspect it might have something to do with the claws that retract into his hand. you didn't even realise when he took them out.

he's... glorious. every muscle in his body is taut and stretched across his body like a work of art. his tan skin is dusted with hair so fine it makes your mouth water.

your eyes cross his pecs, his wounds, his bruises, lower and lower until... fuck. he's... big. big and so red, surely it must be painful.

he brings a hand up to your face and you think he's going to cover your mouth but he simply says, "lick."

you oblige shyly, savouring the salt of his skin. he pulls it away, spitting and then wrapping his surprisingly long and thick fingers around his cock. he runs it up and down the length, watching you with such intensity, it makes you blush as he positions himself in front of your opening and you bite your lip, looking up as he crowds you again.

you feel him push into you and within seconds, he's already stretching you open so wide it makes you grab the pillow behind your head in desperation.

he stills, gauging you. he knows this feeling. he's felt it in other women before; the squeezing of walls so tight there could only be one explanation. you're a virgin. shit, he needs to be careful.

rubbing your thighs with both hands, he gently and carefully pushes in just a little bit more.

"never done this before?" he asks, leaning down to press the softest kiss to your lips.

of course he's right. you have no idea how he knows but it makes you redden that he's caught onto your inexperience. are you making it that obvious? oh god, are you not making this good for him?!

immediately noticing your agitation, he pulls all the way out and kisses you again.

"easy... easy," he says, stroking your hair away from your face. "just gotta relax."

his voice is so even, so warm and soothing, that you cannot help but nod.

"good girl," he smiles encouragingly, once again positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushes in again and this time it's easier. you aren't quite so wound up and he slides in smoother because he's already made you adequately wet. still, he goes slowly, making sure it is good for you.

until you realise he's going too slow.

"lo–" you gasp, voice more a squeak than you'd like. "more– need more, please..."

around anyone else you'd feel pathetic. begging for something so filthy, so raw. but with logan, it's so comfortable. knowing he'll give you anything you ask for, even if you've known each other only half a week.

so he pushes himself completely into you, and he's so fucking big, so fucking much inside you as he whispers words of encouragement into your ears, kissing and biting at your neck. the ache of the stretching almost immediately gives way to a sharp pleasure that shoots through you straight from his tip and into every last nerve in your body.

it makes you wrap both hands around him, needing so desperately to be as close to him as possible.

you initiate the kiss this time as he starts moving in you. you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his, making him groan. the sound is so delicious, you roll your hips to cause it again. his hands grasp your waist, steading you, moaning your name around your tongue.

one of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck again, taking charge of the kiss as he starts thrusting into you with more vigour.

you cannot imagine a better feeling than being right here. being held by him, being kissed by him, and being filled by him.

tentatively, you squeeze around him, realising you're reaching another orgasm quickly. he growls into your mouth at that, picking up further speed. it makes your hips buck and you're skin feel like it's on fire.

"logan, i'm... i'm..."

"me too, angel," he grunts.

and with one final thrust he presses all the way intp you, making you cry out as you come undone again. he snarls your name, a man possessed, the squeezing and fluttering of your walls pushing him over his own edge.

he fills you up, forehead coming down to rest against yours. he pants softly, never having felt tired like this before. but he realises... he doesnt mind it so much, not when he's tired because he got to make love to you.

you kiss him sweetly, breaking him out of his thoughts and he smiles at you.

"so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling out of you and lying down next to you.

he tugs you onto his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

"logan?" you say, so spent your eyes are already drooping.

"hmm?"

"still?" you say and he realises you're repeating his question from earlier.

he hugs you tightly at that, wrapping his arms around you, warm and possessive.

"no. i don't think so."

wrote this at 6 in the morning before work so if there's errors, it's not my fault :))))

ik everyone hates the 2013 movie but i rewatched it recently and i remembered every last line. fuck me it's soooooo good.

really hope u like it tho.

love, d <3

retroactively tagging @techwrecker for being a cutie in the comments in all my other fics 🙂‍↔️

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett xmen #xmen #xmen fanfiction #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #logan x reader smut #wolverine x reader smut #logan x mariko

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rweoutofthewoods · 9 months ago

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fanfic/fandom ettiquite guide

Okay, I've seen some things recently that make me think there is some need to make a master post of some general fandom and fic ettiquite just because some people may not know and I think there's a huge wave of fanfic becoming more mainstream especially on apps like tiktok.

If you don't like it, don't engage with it!! I think this above all, is the golden rule of fandom. The internet is made for you to be able to mute, hide, and censor things you don't like. DO THAT! don't make a career off of hating things. This goes along with the three laws of fandom, which u should check out FIRST OF ALL.

DON'T GATEKEEP!! If you're posting about a fic, art, ANYTHING link it, credit it! Don't post a tiktok about a fic and then refuse to give the name. Not only are you failing to credit the creators of this content, but you're taking away from the fact that fandom is a COMMUNITY where content is meant for everyone.

Ao3 is an archive. You're going to see things you might not like or even find offensive or uncomfortable. But fanfic is not meant to be censored. Ao3 is made to be unfiltered, people can post anything and everything. Posting fics on other sites simply to shame their content not only brings MORE attention to it, but it's pointless. If you want a website that is censored go to wattpad. And of course, if you don't like it DON'T READ. You can filter your tags and warnings on ao3 so it won't show you that content.

Along those lines LEARN HOW TO USE AO3. There is no algorithm, it is not tiktok. You don't need to censor words in your tags. Your fics are not magically getting pushed out to people. Make sure you're using "person 1/person 2" for romantic relationships and "person 1 & person 2" for non-romantic relationships. Make sure things like non-con and underage are tagged under the warnings. AND AS A READER, know how to filter ships and tags to find the content you want. You can filter by kudos, certain tags, exclude certain relationships or characters etc. USE IT.

Do not create placeholder fics or other "non fics" on ao3. This is against their terms of service. You can (and probably will) be reported, this annoys people endlessly. We don't want to find a fic and open it to see "I haven't written this yet, sorry!" JUST SAVE A DRAFT OR DO IT IN A DOCUMENT? this seems like way to rack up hits, and it comes across as disingenuous, I don't see a real valid reason to make placeholders.

HOW TO WRITE AN ACCEPTABLE COMMENT: long is not important. A simple "loved this!" will make an author happy. DO NOT say any variation of "update pls?" regardless of how nice you think it is. Authors update when they can.I'm not the only author I've seen unhappy with this. JUST WAIT, either it will be updated or it won't, and either way you will live. If you have nothing nice to say about a fic?? MOVE ON. Don't leave a hate comment.

Do not rate or publicly shit on fanfic! A lot of authors know many people, and the chances of that author seeing whatever you're saying about their work is very high. If you don't like it, click off and read something else. If it's still living rent-free in your mind, that sounds like fan behavior to me. And there is no standard fics are supposed to meet, don't rate them.

Don't cross-post fics. Don't put fics on other sites, don't put translation on other sites. DON'T DO ANYTHING with a fic without checking with the author first. On that note, also don't post fics on GoodReads etc. unless an author explicitly says it's okay.

IF YOU DO NOT MARK YOUR BOOKMARKS AS PRIVATE AUTHORS CAN SEE THEM!! If you're going to say anything that isn't positive, you better mark that as private or better yet, move on. Don't say anything on a public bookmark you wouldn't want the author to read.

YOU CANNOT PROFIT OFF OF FANFIC, don't sell bound fics! Don't bind fics if the intention is to sell them. You're potentially creating a lawsuit for the authors of these fics and putting the existence of fanfic in danger. I've seen multiple authors debating taking fics down because of binding issues, just don't do it. AND IF YOU'RE BUYING BOUND FICS YOU'RE PART OF THE PROBLEM. it's selfish and I wish bad karma upon you.

You wouldn't think I'd have to say this but don't plagiarize or use AI to create fics/art etc. firstly making ai write something IS a form of plagiarism. bUT ALSO just write your own content. If you can't, then writing fics etc. is just not for you. No shame about it!

DON'T ASK AUTHORS TO BETA FOR YOU!! You wouldn't believe how many people have asked me to beta their fics for them, I AM NOT A BETA. I HAVE a beta because my proofreading skills are shit. If someone wants to beta they will offer, or go find a blog or somewhere where people are looking to beta. Like @needabeta You can even make a post asking around for a beta, but don't go bug your favorite authors to proofread your fics.

Really just don't harass authors. Of course, don't be afraid to send nice dms, asks, or comments if their inbox is open, but don't spam them especially if they don't reply. Respect boundaries! Don't send nasty anons, everyone knows this is a sign of jealousy and obsession. You're only succeeding in making yourself look bad. Ask yourself why is this author living rent-free in your mind, hm??

If you don't like a ship, stay away from the content geared towards that ship. There's no reason for you to be in people's inbox harassing them over a ship. It's never that deep. If you truly hate it so much, go consume the content for ships you DO like.

Stay grounded. This goes to both fic authors and readers alike. Hits and popularity are not the mark of a good fic. Getting a lot of hits doesn't mean it's good and NOT getting many doesn't mean it's bad. I'm tired of seeing tiktoks asking "so what's the next big fic?" WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A "BIG FIC"? go look through the ao3 tag and find something you like to read, it doesn't have to be what everyone else is reading.

Headcanons are not law. People can think whatever they want about the characters. If you disagree with someone's hc, just move on... and just because a headcanon is popular, doesn't mean everyone has to abide by it. Be creative!

Don't treat artists and authors like celebs! We're all in this together! We're all losers who like the same characters and ships. Of course, compliment and be kind to all creators because we put a lot of time and effort into creating fan content for you all, but don't worship anyone. Don't treat them weirdly or make a post like "omg x followed me!" that's a bit weird. If you want to be excited, dm your friends and giggle together, but acting like authors and artists etc. are celebs only creates the room for people to stop seeing them as normal people and start acting rude or entitled. And many people are uncomfortable with it!!

TLDR; stop creating so much negativity in fandom spaces. At least in MY fandom it's just constantly shitting on ships, fics, art. It's hate anons, antis, and constant fighting about every headcanon. I'M TIRED OF IT! Learn to filter out content you don't want to see, and move on with your life instead of spreading more negativity.

If you have anything you think I should add shoot me a comment or an ask and I will add it! I'm sure I didn't get everything :) this mostly applies to my own experience being in the hp/marauders fandom for a good 10+ years, and I'm sure it varies slightly from fandom to fandom.

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fortheharbingers · 4 months ago

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being feixiao's little plaything...... no thoughts head empty fr

pairing: feixiao/gn!reader

notes: gn!reader (as much as I could), oral (reader receiving), biting, slight clawing and marking, one or two petnames i think. –idk what to tag ive not written smut in ages but this woman is driving me insane. i jst know she can make u cum w/o touching u. okiii byeee Minors do not interact !!

As someone with her status of being, merlin’s claw feixiao is a lot to handle at times. Bold, playful and shameless, never backing down, a force to be reckoned with both in and out of a battlefield.

the general has quite the tricky condition, unbeknownst to many. and after battles that go a little over her threshold, that's where you play in. a little off the edge, her grip of her control barely gone, the general needs something, someone to keep her grounded, connected to reality. the counting of each sense and testing them one by one is a trick used for many occasions and even for that, feixiao has her way of rolling with it.

there, she finds a rope to hold onto, in the tight space between your legs. when her eyes see only red and sense of smell enhanced, she drinks in the smell of your skin, your fear, the sweat that clings to your form and that perfume you always save just for her.

in the midst of all those, strangers and those who don't know the truth of things, you serve your purpose and more– greet her not just as the untouchable and infamous Merlin's Claw but also just Feixiao, just a foxian, painfully hungry and ready to dive right into her meal that is you. not that she doesn't like when you call her 'her general', praises spilling from your lips but in this crazed state now, she cannot focus on anything.

her nails dig into your skin, parting your legs. dragging her claws across, she draws patterns into your skin, feel how soft and fragile you are to the touch, your warmth enough to melt her, enough to dispel the cold air of even the shackling prison. never once her hands are off your body, always feeling you everywhere and touching, groping at your skin, squeezing when you let out a particular squeak like a melody to her ears.

feixiao has always been good at what she does, but when she is like this– barely a person and driven by lust, her touches burn. she drags a finger on your inner thigh, a little to the side and she can feel how wet you're getting by the second. from the way her breathing is erratic, you can tell she knows. licking her lips, feixiao takes in a sharp breath. just a little more force and she can enjoy the scent of your blood mixing into this delicious fest of smells. the smell of arousal soon fills the air, making it harder for her to remain her composure. what a little minx, weren't you supposed to help ease the symptoms, she thinks, not drive her crazier?

one hand goes north slowly, stroking right under your belly button, tugging at the skin there, getting a yelp in return. as her free hand continues to roam your body, her mouth draws closer, tracing over the same spots with her lips, leaving lithe, wet kisses. with heat pooling up in you, all you can do is whimper her name and watch as she toys with her meal.

her hand finds your breast and immediately she gropes the flesh, sinking her teeth into your thigh in the process. you hiss out a moan, eyes closed shut at the sudden action.

biting at the spot over and over, when she feels content with it, feixiao pulls back and places a kiss there, moving onto the next spot.

when her eyes no longer see red, she admires the scene before her very eyes.

how you're sprawled over her bed, all pretty and flush already, staring at her, waiting for her to keep going. hazy eyes and your slightly ajar, she can notice the drool by your chin. what a mess you've created and she has only begun...

body practically throbbing with need, she brings a hand to your pulse to feel how your fast your heart beats. moving the hand slowly to your chest, she feels how something so small can beat so fast and with force– all for her, too. feeling your slight jolts each time she touches you, feixiao grins at your helpless self, awaiting whatever she will give you, and you happily taking it all, beginning for more to come until your body cannot endure anything else.

sight, smell, hearing and touch... feixiao has saved the best for the last.

giving her lips another lick, and catching you gulp at the sight from the corner of her eye, she dives in. the meal she's been waiting to have all week. all of it just for her to enjoy, to savor.

without wasting another second, her lips find your sex.

she tries going easy on you, really she does. tries her best to start with few kisses here and there, to prepare you for the rest of the night, and to prolong your orgasm for the both of you... but with how strong and enthralling you smell, she finds her resolve broken. lapping at you like a man in the desert, she drags her tongue over and over, biting at your lips and not caring one bit about the mess she is making. drenched in your arousal, she drinks in your moans, how you begin to pant her name as you feel yourself getting closer.

when she can hear your breathing fasten, her tongue slows down in pace, now lazily leaving kisses, nipping at your skin. with the sudden drop of pace, all you can mumble is a desperate "please..."

at your plea, feixiao laughs. "please what, sweet thing?" she asks you and with what energy left in you, you try bringing your legs together, to trap her face there. tutting at your display of request, she shakes her head and easily spreads your legs again, pressing them against the bed. "so impatient... have you no respect for your general?" her words make you blush, a tad embarrassed.

and your reaction to her words only make her more satisfied. how innocent and sweet. "well then, since you could ask this time..." she says as she leans into you again.

your hands reach out to her this time, clutching at her as she teases you with her tongue. you can feel yourself tighten around her tongue, eyes closed shot in satisfaction as she sucks and bites at you. with what little you have left in you, you drag your hands through her hair, fingers playing with her ears and scratching at the back of them. mixed into your endless moans and mewls of her name, this action draws a growl out of her in return, pressing her face further into you, urging you to continue.

as you try and grind against her tongue, her hands find your hips, pressing you into the mattress, not letting you move one inch, keeping you in place. thumbs rubbing circles onto your hips and sucking on your sex, she angles you enough for easier access and before you know you come undone, your body shaking as you come and make a mess all over your general's face.

gasping for air, you lie limp in the same position she has put you until you can return to your senses.

when you open your eyes, expecting to be met with the blinding lights of the room, you're instead faced with her curious eyes, with an expression already on her face that tells you she is up to no good.

"so, ready for round two, or do i give you another minute? it’s considered well-mannered to show your general just how much you missed her, y’know.”

#nova's ramblings #feixiao hsr #hsr smut #feixiao smut #feixiao x reader #feixiao x you #honkai star rail smut #idk what else to tag this uhh #hsr x reader smut #gn reader

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imnameimswrld · 7 months ago

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ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐘 ⁰⁰ ׄ ⑅ CS ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ in which, choi san goes from "that one shirtless guy" at coachella to a father of a whole ass formula 1 fandom.

— PAIRING ੭ haas!driver x choi san.

— FILE ੭ social media au.

— WARNINGS ੭ language.

— SERIES ੭ "WAIT...THEY MAKE SENSE !?" .

❪ main masterlist | kpop masterlist | f1 masterlist ❫

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

ynusername added to their story ! • 1hr

seen by landonorris, lewishamilton, and 2 223 233 others

landonorris replied to your story !

not u going to THE festival without ME.

and here I thought, we were friends.

mf, I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING.

you just don't utilize those two things on either side of your head.

dumbass.

😧😔, I see.

ynusername

liked by charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter, and 2 424 243 others

ynusername what a weekend omfg, THANK YOU COACHELLA !!

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user1 now wait just one damned minute...ain't that seonghwa and san in slide 7 ???

↳ user2 ayo since when does mother hang with ATEEZ ?? SPILL THE TEA MOTHER.

user3 yn's a atiny AND a fearnot !? my worlds are colliding holy shit.

user4 WHO IS THAT MAN MOTHER

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ateez_official_ added to their story ! • 1hr

seen by ynusername, howtodraw.cs, and 1 232 333 others

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

sooo

when were u gonna tell me we broke up ?

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰🐈‍⬛

i almost fucking stormed into that office and put my manager in a chokehold

if hwa hyung hadn't stopped me, I'd be sending this from a jail cell.

I will fix this, yn

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

hey, honey, it's okay

don't do something that'll get you into trouble please.

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰🐈‍⬛

no baby, it's not okay, and I'm going to make this right.

I'm not going to let the company flat out lie and let people think you're free and for the taking.

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

possessive, are we ?

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰🐈‍⬛

you know damn well I am.

MY VV GIRL 🏎❤

and I love it 😍😍

MOUNTAIN CAT ⛰ 🐈‍⬛

I gotta go baby, my flight is leaving

I love you ! ❤

MY VV GIRL 🏎 ❤

love you to- wait.

what flight ?

babe ?

CHOI SAN.

WHAT FLIGHT.

ynusername

liked by kevinmagnussen, howtodraw.cs, and 2 334 343 others

ynusername still cannot believe it... p1 in China !? FUCK YEAH BABY.

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haasf1team L/N 🔛🔝

kevinmagnussen very well deserved yn, congrats ! 👏

↳ ynusername thank u sm kmag 🥺

user1 just to be clear...WE ALL FUCKING SAW SAN IN THE HAAS PADDOCK RIGHT !?

↳ user2 girl, the camera literally panned in on him and the screen said "San Choi, K-POP Idol & PARTNER OF L/N" 😃😃

↳ user3 so clearly san did NOT approve of the statement kq put out lol

user4 YNSAN IS MF REAL BITCHES 🤩🤩

user5 the proud smile san had on his face as he looked up at her on the podium, I AM CRYING MYSELF TO SLEEP TONIGHT.

user6 he really went from "that one shirtless guy" to father.

ynusername

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ynusername some down time in seoul is where it's at

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user1 they fr said "fuck you kq" and as they should.

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#f1 #f1 fanfic #kpop #smau #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez san #formula 1 #formula one #ateez #choi san x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #choi san #imnameimswrld #my work #haas f1 team

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mamani-bento · 1 year ago

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i'm glad you're back (kento nanami)

nanami x reader, 2.7k, sorcerer!reader, reader is referred to as 'she' once

established relationship, hurt/comfort + fluff + a tiny bit of angst

i love u nanami. please help me get through this week. please.

mamani-bento's masterlist!

there's been a cloud hanging over nanami's head recently. a dark, looming one. pulls his shoulders high, closer to his ears, as he stays on edge, constantly waiting.

he goes through the motions, trying to focus on his missions and mentoring at the high school, but the stubborn cloud lingers.

how can it leave? you haven't come home yet.

it's been five days since they sent you to find and defeat the cursed spirit holed up in the outskirts of the city. five days since they pulled you out of a class you were taking on domains, explained that there's a special grade that's popped up on their radar, that they need a grade one to get rid of it immediately, that you have to locate and destroy it before it finds the entrance to the city's sewage system.

nanami is a reasonable man. he worries, of course he worries and always about you, it's inevitable in your line of work. but he knows you're strong. he understood when you rushed past him in the corridor, whirlwind of energy as you made your way to the locker rooms to pick up some supplies. the quick explanation, the blazing determination in your behaviour, the almost-playful peck you had given him after confirming that you'd see him at home for dinner - none of it indicated that this mission was anything out of the ordinary.

so apart from the unease that's always itching at him every time you're sent out on a mission - the standard unease, the one he knows you feel for him as well - nanami didn't think too much of it. he wrapped up his classes. stopped by the bakery around the corner from the apartment and picked up your favourite croissant for desert. took a shower, washed his hair even, and went about making dinner.

when the clock struck 8, as he switched off the burner and started to set up the table, the itch began to make itself more prominent. he waited. the pasta got cold and the two empty plates stared at him mockingly. he tried distracting himself by folding the laundry, even though it was your turn to do that. he wiped down the counter, just to keep himself busy. he imagined the sound of keys jiggling in the door knob, imagined you walking through the threshold with a proud smile and full of chatter about how easy the cursed spirit was to defeat, maybe with a tiny cut over your cheekbone that he'd bandage and kiss better.

when it crossed 10pm, he decided to call you. just to check. just to find out if you'd like him to heat up the pasta. no answer. he forced himself to stay calm. your phone had died, obviously. so he had called ijichi.

ijichi, good old reliable ijichi, hadn't known where you were either. then he had called the school. you were obviously getting patched up by shoko, maybe for a bruise or at most a bleeding wound. but you weren't with shoko.

'it's a big one, kento,' gojo had said. 'she's dealing with it. she'll be back in the morning.'

you aren't back in the morning. or the next morning. or the next. and nanami cannot breathe, cannot sleep, is only eating when he physically feels his body begging for sustenance, because how can you not be back?

he had gone with gojo to the location the morning after you didn't come back - just to check, he had told himself furiously, but there was no trace of you or the cursed spirit.

'all we can do is wait' yaga said on the third day, annoyingly calm. how was he so calm?

nanami doesn't miss the worried glances thrown his way by students and sorcerers alike. doesn't miss how itadori doesn't fool around during training or how gojo tones down his incessant chatter by 10% around him. but he's unaffected by the changes in the way people are treating him. by the fourth day you've been gone, there's pity in their glances, as well. he doesn't take it seriously. he can't take it seriously. you'll be back. nanami is a reasonable man. you'll be back.

on the fifth morning, nanami wakes up from a troubled sleep, more tired than he was the previous night. he misses the warmth of your body next to his, the way you need five minutes of bleary yawning and blinking in the morning to get your brain to start up, the smell of your strawberry moisturiser on the sheets. the cloud that's taken residence over his head has grown and grown in the last few days, held up with hope and determination and reason, but he's afraid something will pierce it soon. he doesn't know how much strength he has left to carry this firm belief that you'll be back you'll be back you'll be back and he's never felt so wretchedly helpless in his life.

which is why, when he comes back to the empty house in the evening and sits on the couch, staring unblinkingly at the wall, he doesn't think much of gojo's caller id on his phone, blaring in the terrible silence of the apartment.

"she's back."

relief overtakes nanami's every cell with a painful jolt. he thinks he might cry - no, he knows he'll cry the moment this fully sinks in. he gets the car keys, jingling in his grasp as he haphazardly tugs his shoes on, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

"how is she?" he manages to get out, voice mildly wobbling at the end.

for once, gojo is silent.

nanami's movements slow down in growing foreboding.

"gojo. how is she?" he's firm now. no wobble.

"...shoko's looking into it. she's badly hurt, probably in shock."

nanami lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "alright. i'll be there in a few minutes."

"no, don't come. she'll reach home quicker if ijichi drops her. they're leaving now."

and it kills him to put the keys down, to take his shoes off, to let go of the knob on the front door, but nanami is a reasonable man. he recognises the wisdom in gojo's words, that the priority is not to see you but for you to reach the comfort of your home as soon as possible.

so he watches the second hand of the wall clock in the living room move with excruciating slowness. he paces. he sits. he decides to not change out of his work clothes, despite the fact that it's rumpled beyond belief, that the folded sleeves are slipping past his forearms and he's tired of repeatedly pushing them up - what if you reach just when he's changing? he debates keeping the door open but before he can make up his mind, there's a sharp knock - a real one, not from his imagination.

immediately, he takes three long and rapid strides, urgently pulling the door open.

ijichi explains something to nanami. something about your ribs? you aren't really paying attention. you didn't when shoko told you either, just stared unblinkingly at the ceiling as she wrapped a bandage tightly around your mid-section. you stare now, watching the wall from your seat on the armchair as nanami takes ijichi's empty cup to place in the sink. he had offered you one as well. chamomile tea with a hint of lemon, steaming and fragrant, just the way you like it. it sits on the centre table. still steaming, still fragrant, still full.

you manage a 'thank you' as the two men walk towards the door. it's a fragile, brittle thing, and your voice is hoarse from both screaming and disuse, somehow, but you still say it. ijichi wordlessly places a comforting palm on your shoulder. you try to muster a smile, but it's too much work.

nanami's footsteps are soft as he makes his way back into the living room. you want to look at him, really truly look at him after so long - has it only been five days? - of seeing his face swimming in your dizzy vision, of longing for his solid presence next to you. you brace yourself for the effort of moving your neck up, but his hand appears on the arm of your seat, moments before he's squatting in front of your chair.

he searches your face, even as you search his. he looks tired, exhausted. dark circles line his eyes, a weariness that you can swear wasn't there before the mission sits like a weight on his shoulders. you haven't had a chance to see a mirror since you stumbled out of that cave, limping half-delirious in what you had hoped was the direction of the school, closer to the outskirts than your home. even then, with your nerves fried and senses muddled in exhaustion and lingering terror, you had recognised that the pain on your left wasn't normal and that walking shouldn't hurt so much. you can't imagine what you must look like. bloody, probably. shoko had cleaned your bruises, bandaged up your wounds, but your clothes are stiff with darkened red, and you feel it caked on your skin. dirt and grime, as well. you should be more disgusted, but you can't bring yourself to feel much of anything.

whatever nanami sees, it makes him reach out to take both your hands in his. he's fully kneeling in front of you now. the warmth of his palms in yours is grounding, and your heart cracks a bit as he lifts your left arm to place a soft, affectionate kiss on the inside of your wrist. callused palms gently move upward, firm as they brush up your shoulders, as if ensuring your presence, triple-checking that he isn't imagining this. he cups your cheeks, thumb stroking over your cheekbones, unmindful of the dried blood flaking at his touch. he brings his forehead to slowly meet yours.

for the first time in what feels like forever, you let out a deep, shuddering exhale, body slumping in an exhaustion that hits you too hard. you feel nanami relax too, in the way he slightly pulls back to place a tender kiss on your forehead, as if reminding himself that you're really here, that you're really back.

in a massive display of strength, you manage to lift your arms to hold nanami's arms in place before he can pull away, lightly closing over his wrists.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes. a fragile, brittle thing.

he smiles. "hi," he says, tone low and shaky.

it takes you ten more minutes of sitting before you let nanami help you up from the armchair. neither of you say anything in that time. he continues to kneel in front of you, rubbing circles on the backs of your hands that he refuses to let go of. when you do get up, everything aches with a bone-deep weariness that makes you slump against his shoulder, one of his large hands curved around your waist and the other holding your arm. he's mindful of all the injuries that ijichi told him about, even the ones that anesthesia has momentarily made you forget exist.

he guides you to the bedroom, patient even as you have to take breaks every few steps as your ribs groan with at the exertion. as much as you'd like to fall asleep, you make a sound of protest when he guides you to the bed.

"no?" he asks, looking down at you quizzically.

"shower," you say shortly. "i'm filthy." your voice is a bit stronger now.

easily, he course-corrects, moving towards the bathroom. he slowly peels off the grimy fabric on your skin, and when he's done, you're left in just your bandages. you can feel him assessing the damage, the full extent of which is only clear now. the wraps around your mid-section, the one covering the deep gash over your left shoulder. cuts and scrapes litter your skin.

his jaw is tight, but he's gentle as ever as he helps you to the cubicle. he tests the temperature of the water first before letting you stand under the showerhead. your shoulders droop as the water washes over you, blissfully warm. the pool at your feet is deep red for a good few seconds until it's replaced by transparency.

you don't realise nanami had left you alone until he returns. the cubicle door opens with a squeak that you make out over the sound of the water, and you feel the heat of his body behind you. still in his button-up, he detaches the showerhead before retrieving the shampoo bottle.

he sections you hair, deftly working the sticky grime out, long fingers scratching against your scalp as his ministrations lull you closer to sleep.

"would you like to eat something before going to bed?" he softly asks, slight in his movements as he turns off the water.

you probably should, but your body is threatening to shut down. you shake your head.

nanami takes off your soggy bandages, unwrapping with a care that one wouldn't have expected from a man so big. he knows that shoko has already cleaned your wounds, but he does it again anyway, holding your squeezing hand as you wince. he's precise when he re-wraps you, knuckles brushing tenderly across your cheek as he finishes with the one on your shoulder.

the light in the bathroom is a covered bulb on the ceiling, and it throws nanami's gold-spun hair into some sort of halo. like an angel drawn to it, you step closer to him until you're huddled into his frame. strong arms come to carefully circle around your back as you rest your cheek against his chest. again, something leaves as you breathe out, and a security you haven't felt in days begins to re-appear.

you haven't told him what happened, and he hasn't asked. you haven't told anybody. you'll need to give your mission report eventually, and there's a breakdown waiting to happen, hovering at the edges of your psyche until you have the strength to face it, but for now, you let yourself sink into the embrace. a kiss is placed on top of your head, lingering as you feel a puff of air ruffling your hair. his own exhale of relief.

he helps you put your clothes on, dries your hair because he knows you catch colds easy, makes your highly-strung nerves unwind bit by miniscule bit as he does the things that you don't have it in you to do.

as he changes out of his work clothes into soft cotton, you silently watch from your position in the bed. under the covers that he had pulled over you, around the pillows that he had tucked under this arm and that leg so you aren't in pain. a part of you wants to tell him everything. the dim lights cast him in a glow that makes you feel brave enough to relive it all just by being in the same room as him, but you know your voice will give up mid-way.

he switches off the lights and climbs into the bed, turning on his side to face your body. you turn your neck to face him, which is all you can really do. a heavy arm drapes over your frame, avoiding the bandages, fingers curling at your hip.

your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you watch him watching you.

"i'm glad you're back."

"me too."

this time, it's the silence that's a fragile, bitter thing. there's so much under the surface. so much you have to tell him, so much he needs to tell you. about the fight, about the pain, about the agonising wait, about the blind stumbling through sewers, about the cloud that was about to burst.

but for now, all he says is, "wake me up if you need anything."

for now, you nod and place a palm on his forearm that's wrapped around your middle, other hand coming up to cup his face as his eyelids flutter shut. he tilts his head to the side, pressing a doting kiss over the pulse of your wrist.

"i'm glad you're back," he softly repeats as you slip asleep.

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samandcolbyownme · 5 months ago

Note

another one of my fav things u write is when the chat goes crazy so I was wondering if u could do one where y/n and Sam haven’t done a video in a while and the fans create rumors saying that they aren’t friends anymore but they’re secretly saying and Sam surprises the viewers on his live with reader and the chat goes crazy I love when u include that k byeee

I Found Her | Sam Golbach

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight sexual innuendos, secret relationship (kept from fanbase), rumors about reader

I’m classifying this as a snippet for now.

“Sam.”

“Yeah, baby?” He looks up from his laptop as you walk down the steps, “Did you know that we aren’t friends anymore?”

“I mean..” he turns to look back at you, “Yeah, I kind of did know that.” He chuckles and you walk around to sit on the couch next to him, “Well yeah, but I mean.. here.”

You rest your head on his shoulder and he gives the top a kiss as you smile, “Here.” You hand him your phone, “There’s a thread on this one.”

You reach over, tapping the comment to drop more down, “Then I’ll show you the other comment section on TikTok.”

User1: Has she posted anywhere recently?

User2: right! It’s been almost three months

User3: Has Sam posted anything with her? Commented on anything?

User4: maybe she moved back home? Her and Sam might have split?

User5: @/user4: her and Sam were NEVER together! She’s an old friend from their childhood! Stop spreading false information!

User6: Literally stop. I’m sure y/n is fine!

He nods as he reads down over them, “They have no idea.” He looks over at you, “Is it because you M.I.A on them?”

“Probably. I just deleted the apps off my phone once we started getting, closer, you know.. I wanted to put my all into this, so I figured a social media break would be good.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. You know that right? You do what you need to do in order to make yourself happy.” Sam leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Because they clearly have no idea what they’re talking about.”

You press a kiss to his lips, “As long as I have you, I should be set on happiness.” You smile and he kisses you again, “Maybe we should just come clean.”

“You want to tell them?” You ask as you raise your brows.

“Only if you want to.” Sam whispers, tucking hair behind your ear as you nod, “I need to start posting again anyway.” You let out a sigh, “Okay. How do you want to do it?”

Sam smirks, “I have an idea.”

“Oh no.” You laugh, “Should I be scared?”

He shakes his head, “Just go up and hang out in my room. I’m going to go live. Is Colby awake?” You stand up and shrug, “Not sure, I did hear anything before I came down.”

He nods and stands up, “Okay.” His hands slide up your arms, “Are you sure about this? If you’re not co-“

“I want to be able to kiss you in public and hold your hand. I’m sure about this, baby.” You look up at him and he smiles, “Okay. Now go.”

You nod and walk over to the steps, looking back to see he’s staring at you shaking his head.

“What?” You stop, tuning towards him as you laugh slightly and he shakes his head, “I just.. cannot believe you are mine.”

You smile harder, feeling your cheeks heat up as you finish your way up the steps. You go into the room you share with Sam, sitting on the bed as you wait for whatever’s about to happen, to happen.

A few minutes later, you see a notification on your phone.

[y/n.y/l/n]: samgolbach started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

“Oh my god.” You look at the door, then back to your phone, then one more back and fourth before you get up and walk out of the room.

You sit down on the floor, listening as you hear Sam start, “What’s up everybody? Hello hello.” He pauses, “Just going to wait for a couple more people to drop in before we get started.”

You knew the comments were insane. Sam hasn’t done a solo live in so long.

“Fuck it.” You get up, walking back in and you click on the notification, popping in while Sam is mid sentence, “.. on here and give you guys a little update about Colby and I’s travels lately.”

He smiles when he sees your name pop up, but he tries to not make it a big deal, “So we flew in from Italy, I think it was two days ago now? But that was amazing. That video will be out soon.”

While Sam is talking, you can’t help but stay focused on the comments, scrolling at you read. At first it was comments about Sam and Colby and their videos and stuff, but as soon as you joined, the focus was practically almost turned, which is what Sam wanted.

InstaUser1: WAIT WAIT Y/N DID I SEE THAT CORRECTLY!?

InstaUser2: Can’t wait for the video Sam!!

InstaUser3: @/InstaUser1 I SAW IT TOO!

InstaUser4: wait wait wait y/n is here?

InstaUser5: Sam! Please just tell us if y/n is okay!

“Y/n is okay. We’re still on good terms, I promise.” He glances at the camera, “Yeah, I see everything.” He laughs, shaking his head, “No she’s doing good.”

You laugh slightly, glancing back down to the comments.

InstaUser6: NO what do you MEAN you see everything Samuel?

InstaUser7: PLEASE GOD NO Sam don’t lurk you’ll regret it, just ask Matt Sturniolo

“Colby is sleeping still. I think he’s coming down with something, which means I’ll probably get it.”

“And I’ll end up getting it.” You mumble to yourself.

InstaUser8: Can you tell us where y/n is? Like did she go back home?

InstaUser9: Why did she ghost us? You’re a GHOST HUNTER, Sam! Please help us out!

“I need to go get Colby up anyway. We have a dinner tonight and I haaaate waking his ass up.”

Your heart starts racing as you see Sam walking in the live, “Oh fuck.” You shift around, leaning back against the headboard as you try to look relaxed and like you aren’t panicking on the inside.

You knew he had to get Colby up, but you knew he had unfinished business that he had to attend to first, “Here guys.” He flips the camera around and you watch the screen intently as he reaches for the knob, “Say hi to Colby.”

He pushes open the door and you’re suddenly watching yourself on your phone screen, “Just kidding. It’s y/n! I found her!”

You turn your head from your phone to look at Sam, “You found me!”

“Ghost Hunter Sam strikes again.” Sam says as he walks over to sit on the bed. You laugh, looking back down at the comments.

InstaUser1: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

InstaUser8: Oh my god this is so much better

InstaUser10: PLEASE WHAT IS HAPPENING

You lean over, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder, “I took some sudden time off because, well.. something sudden, but not so sudden happened and I just wanted to give it my all, you know?”

Your eyes scan down as the comments flood through on Sam’s screen.

InstaUser11: PLEASE BE TOGETHER.

InstaUser12: IM SOBBING WHAT

InstaUser13: MY TWO FAV PEOPLE WHAT IS GOING ON I-

You laugh, “I guess we should just-“ Sam cuts you off with a kiss and you lay your hand on his cheek, smiling as he pulls away.

“That’s my girlfriend.” Sam laughs as he rests his forehead against your temple, “Alright guys.” He turns his head, keeping it against yours, “I’ll see you all in the next one. I gotta go wake up Colby. Love you all. Catch ya later.”

You smile as Sam ends the live and then he suddenly turn, lunging to push you back onto the bed, “You can come to dinner with us tonight.”

“I sure can, boyfriend.” You scrunch your nose up as you smile and he leans in, “I love you, y/n.”

Your heart skips a beat and you bring your hand up to lay on his neck, “I love you, Sam.” He presses a few kisses to your face before attacking your lips.

He leans back with a sigh, “Wanna help me get Colby up?” You purse your lips together and shake your head, “I have to start getting ready.”

He rolls his eyes before smiling, “Fine, I’ll let it slide.” You go to get up but he stops you, “This time.” You laugh and shake your head, “Mhm. I’m sure I’ll hear that next time, too.”

“Yeah.” Sam nods, “You probably will.” His eyes scan over your body, “So which dress are you wearing?” You bite down on your lip as you glance over at him, “One that’s easy for you to take off of me once we’re back here.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

——

Thank you so much for reading!! I love you all so much!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #sam Golbach #sam Golbach x reader #snippet #snippets #sam golbach x reader fluff #sam Golbach one shot #sam Golbach blurbs #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fluff #sam golbach smut #dirty sam golbach #one shot writer #smut #fluff

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lou-struck · 1 month ago

Text

The Apple of My Pie

Kenma Kozume x reader

Flufftober Day 13~ Apple Pie

W.C. 1.2k

~These long days of streaming can drive Kenma crazy, so much so he swears he can smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

A few years ago, Kenma Kozume would've never considered himself a workaholic.

Unnecessary effort for mundane tasks was seemingly pointless. Why work hard on something that doesn't matter to you?"

He had this train of thought until he met you, and everything changed. He started to dream of a future with you. And he realized that In order to make that dream come true he has to do more than just the bare minimum.

Hey Hey Hey, it's my birthday. It would mean the world to me if you gave me a shout-out.

What console is he playing this on?

Follow 4 follow anyone?????

What texture pack are U using? Ur game looks different than mine?

The chat in his stream seems to move faster than his avatar as he plays through one of his favorite games. His eyes are dry and irritated from staring at the screen for hours, but he keeps pushing himself. It may only be October now, but he really wants to earn enough to take you on your dream vacation in the new year.

His desk is littered with water bottles but he can't seem to remember the last time he has eaten. Was it breakfast?

Maybe…

Glancing over at the clock, he wonders what time you will get home from work today. Usually, when you come home, you poke your head into his office, and he will wrap up his stream to spend some time with you.

When you left the house this morning, you had that cute look on your face that you get when you are trying to hide something, but he still cannot figure out what it was that you were hiding.

His brain goes on autopilot as he runs through the map, killing enemies and looting chests as he tries to figure out the little mystery.

Did you plan a date night?

…

That could be it.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he wonders if he should beat you to the punch and take you out tonight for dinner. Or better yet, maybe he should order some takeout from the place you like and have a night in.

He starts to reach for his phone to check your location when something sweet, something nostalgic, wafts under his nose. He inhales deeply, but then he remembers that his automatic air freshener broke last week and starts to worry.

Sometimes, when he spends the day streaming and working, he can forget things, like if he lit one of those sweet-smelling fall candles you bought for the house earlier when he went to grab an energy drink from the fridge.

Shit…

Suddenly, his screen bleeds red, and he realizes that in his state of distraction, his avatar died, much to the surprise of all of his viewers.

"Ummmm, okay, guys, I think I need to call it quits after that one," he says into the camera. Signing off with his usual quiet demeanor, his fans can't seem to get enough of it. As his blinking camera light goes dark, he pushes out his gaming chair and slides across the wooden floor in his socks as he tries to find the source of the smell.

The kitchen light illuminates the stairway, casting his shadow along the portrait-speckled walls, and to his relief, he spots a familiar-looking set of car keys on the corner of the hallway table and immediately feels at ease.

The sound of you shuffling through the kitchen brings a smile to your face as he walks toward you and the warm, sweet smell that only gets stronger with each step he takes. Now out of panic mode, Kenma allows his eyes to readjust from the dark, blue light of his office to the warm, cozy lights of the kitchen.

He reaches the bottom of the steps and walks into the kitchen entryway, where you are hunched over the sink washing a large silver mixing bowl. The countertop looks almost shiny as if it is still wet from being cleaned, but on the corner of the island sits a few containers of spices, just waiting to be put away. He can't make out the labels from the doorway, but he is pretty sure he at least sees some cinnamon.

"It smells good in here," he murmurs, grabbing your attention; your head snaps toward the sound in surprise, but calm down when you see it's just him.

"Ken, I thought you were streaming still." you breathe, quickly setting the now clean bowl onto the drying rack. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I was," he says. Doing little to hide his satisfaction of seeing you trying to adorably look nonchalant. "But I started too early and needed a break, so not long."

"I see," you say, your gaze nervously darting every which way except… He turns his head towards the window sill and sees his all-time favorite dessert, a freshly baked, still steaming apple pie, cooling in the chilly fall air.

"Damn, you caught me," you tell him, wrapping your arms around his stiff midsection; he really needs to get a better chair in his office. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I am surprised," he says, starting to walk toward the window, taking you, who is still holding onto him with him. His keen, catlike eyes scan the dessert, and it looks amazing. The crust is golden and unbelievably flaky, and the lattice looks like it just walked off the set of one of those cooking shows his mom used to watch all the time.

You must've worked really hard on this…

"The pie looks amazing," he says, hypnotized by its beauty.

"It's better," you laugh, regarding your masterpiece with a critical gaze. "It took me forever to make it. I got home a few hours ago and tried to be as quiet as I could. I had wanted to bring you a slice when you got done streaming, but making the filling took way longer than I thought."

His heart swells as he is touched by the care that you put into this surprise, but he turns away from it. The pie may be a masterpiece, but you are far more important. To this day, Kenma doesn't know how he ended up with an S-rank partner like you, but he is too afraid to ask in case you one day wake up and realize that you could be with someone a hundred times better than him…

"So, do you really like it?" you ask softly, your expression tender.

"I love it y/n, seriously. You are amazing." He gently cups your cheek and wipes away a little streak of flour from your warm skin. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, you say, your eyes shining, and he can see his lovesick, adoring reflection staring back at him.

He kisses you and tastes something sweeter than apples on your lips. He may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he knows you and doesn't pull back until you are weak in the knees.

His lips are just centimeters from yours when he asks if he could have a piece.

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #haikyuu fluff #kenma x reader #haikyu x reader #kozume kenma x reader #x reader

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pricelessemotion · 6 months ago

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mimi’s fic recs 🌷 | June 2024

i wanted to spread more positivity in the form of fic recommendations! i’ve been super busy with life so i have not caught up with all the updates of these fics but they’re so amazing i just have to share

as always, heed all warnings, all of these fics are intended for mature audiences so MDNI and don’t forget to reblog to support your favorite writers!

eddie munson recs

paint it black by @somnambulic-thing

i cannot find words to express how much i LOVE this fic. literally everything that somna writes is perfection, so if ur not following them and reading their work ur totally missing out.

crash into me by @dr-aculaaa

i love everything ab this fic. the atmosphere. the interactions. just love love love!!!

paint my sunset peach by @heartthrobin

this trilogy is literally the best thing EVER. i love the tension and the pining. the imagery in this story is so good, makes it feel super immersive.

my whole life, too by @curiositydooropened

this fic is just chefs kiss 💋 i love eddie’s characterization in it

steve harrington recs

beyond by @abibliophobiaa

idk about yall but i am a SUCKER for the fake marriage but real feelings trope and my GOD does this fic deliver every single time!!!

offline meeting by @corroded-hellfire

the gamer!steve au i didnt even know i needed.

better off by @/curiositydooropened

this is a fic i always come back to. i love angst and pining and just a dash of miscommunication and this fic has all of that and MORE.

chamomile & lemonade by @/curiositydooropened

i absolutely adore everything amanda writes, and these two fics have to be at the top of my favorites of all time! the angst! the pining! the slow burn! the eventual pay-off! seriously you NEED to read this fic.

steddie recs

oh, my lover by @/dr-aculaaa

when i tell u this 90s steddie au is the thing i dream ab i am not lying. i dont read a lot of steddie x reader but this one has me on the edge of my seat. the character dynamics are so interesting and delicious and i can't wait to see where the story goes.

#mimi’s fic recs 🌷#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader

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horangare · 1 year ago

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my babysitter’s a vampire

pairing : vampire!hoshi x human!reader

content : smut (mdni), strangers to ???

in which : your parents hired a babysitter after deeming you as the “irresponsible” older sibling. when someone who isn’t junhui shows up in his place, you’re instantly captivated by this handsome stranger and his shiny white teeth.

warnings : grinding, fingering, finger sucking, big dick soonyoung, blood, mentions of a knife and minimal bodily harm (you cut your finger), unprotected sex (but mentions of birth control, be safe either way), cocky soonyoung (ugh i want him so bad), you threaten him with a fork, bff!chaeryeong, dirty talk, pet names, bulge kink (i think that’s everything but pls let me know if i forgot anything)

wc : 4.8K words

note : look y’all i am the youngest of four sisters so idk if my portrayal of a younger brother is a good one but…this is for u hoshi nation horanghae.

“What do you mean?! I don’t need a babysitter!”

Your mom sighed deeply, searching her jewelry box for her matching earring. “I’m sorry honey, but you do. Your sister clearly isn’t responsible enough.” You rolled your eyes, but remained quiet. “And I know Junhui’s mom. She says he’s a very nice boy who’s good with children.”

Ever since you and Chaeryeong shut yourselves in your room to rewatch Girl From Nowhere for the millionth time again and speculate if there would really be a third season, (Chaeryeong insisted there would be, while you thought the opposite) the fact that you were supposed to be babysitting your younger brother had completely slipped your mind. When your parents returned from their date, they pulled into the driveway only to find Leo out there screaming his head off.

After that, you were quickly deemed “irresponsible” by your parents and no longer allowed to be Leo’s babysitter. What did they want you to do? You couldn’t spend all summer break looking after the little brat. Anyway, it’s not like that was the part that bothered you, but the fact that you couldn’t talk or beg her out of it either.

“Mom, come on! I’m eight and a half now! I can pretty much babysit myself!” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway so your mother couldn’t leave the room without giving him, in all his childhood glory, the explanation he felt he so richly deserved.

“It’s too late. Junhui is already on his way and we’ve already paid him.” She leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good.”

Your brother glanced to the side, like he was actually considering not being on his best behavior, before nodding and smiling at your mom. “I promise.” What a little shit.

“That’s my boy. And the same goes for you, [Y/n]. Chaeryeong over but she cannot stay the night. Am I clear?”

You smiled, not even bothering to make it seem real or genuine. “Crystal clear, mom. Have fun with dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. We should be back at around eleven.” Your mom mumbled, making her way down the stairs and to the front door where your dad was waiting. You followed behind her, mostly so you could slam the door in a pitiful act of retaliation and lock it shut until your friend arrived, but also because you wanted to see what this Junhui kid looked like up close.

You’d seen him maybe once or twice before around campus or at the cute little coffee shop you frequented, but you had never gotten a close hard look at his face before. Some of your friends knew him, according to them he was kind of weird, but made up for it with his sense of humor. Maybe he could keep you some decent company before Chaeryeong showed up.

The boy on the other side of the door was not Junhui. At least, you didn’t think so. This boy was a little shorter, a little blonder, and a lot finer than you’ve ever seen Junhui look.

“Oh! Hello, are you…Junhui?” Your mom asked, raking her eyes over the boy standing before her.

“Hi. No, sorry, Jun couldn’t make it. I’m Soonyoung, I’m a friend of his. Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure. Leo? Your babysitter’s here!”

“He’s so hot. And he’s totally your type, don’t you think?”

“Chaeryeong, please!” You slapped your hand over her mouth, earning a dirty look from the girl standing beside you. She was right, this Soonyoung guy was super good looking, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. He was still a stranger after all. A hot one, but a stranger nonetheless, and it was only normal for you to have your reservations. “He’s not even the guy who’s supposed to be here. Junhui was supposed to be Leo’s babysitter. He says he’s his friend.”

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, not understanding what your problem was. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. Look, even Leo likes him.”

You and Chaeryeong watched from the kitchen island as Soonyoung helped Leo with his homework in the living room, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your brother smile while doing homework. Neither of you could hear what they were saying, for some reason you doubted it was about fractions—fractions were not funny.

The longer you observed them—mostly Soonyoung—the more you realized how right your friend was. He was fine. Really fine. It’s like there was some kind of aura around him, something almost otherworldly.

That’s when you started to stare. Like the hard, not even blinking type of stare. Soonyoung turned his head over his shoulder, the two of you making eye contact in what felt like the most awkward way ever. He smiled at you though, which made your cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, before giving his attention back to your brother. Chaeryeong, having watched the entire exchange, grinned while looking you up and down.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled.

Feeling like a stubborn child about to throw a tantrum, you narrowed your eyes and pouted. “Was not.”

Your friend was no doubt satisfied with herself, cooing at you and cupping your face with her hands to squish your cheeks together. “Denial is not a good look for you. Come on,” she released your face to pat you on the shoulder. “let’s go watch a movie before I leave.”

Looking back at the living room, you saw your brother sitting on the couch alone with no signs of Soonyoung. Some babysitter, you thought, leaving the kid he’s supposed to be looking after alone. How could your parents leave someone so irresponsible in charge of your brother?

Oh, wait…

“Just wait for me in my room. I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” She nodded, heading upstairs to your room while you made your way to the bathroom in the hall and swinging open the door.

“What the fuck?” Soonyoung shouted, tearing his eyes away from the mirror above the bathroom sink to look at you. Gasping, you took a step back from him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” You started to apologize, glancing behind him into the mirror and you froze. The spot where his reflection should be was empty. You took another step back.

“You didn’t know…what?”

If you weren’t so scared right now, you would’ve definitely been offended by the way he was speaking to you like you owed him an explanation for wanting to use the bathroom in your house. You looked at him, then the mirror once more, trying to make it as subtle as possible.

“Uh…nothing! So sorry again.” You said, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the tension and backing away from him far enough until you were close enough to retreat up the stairs and to your room. Chearyeong, seated comfortably in your bed, snapped her head away from her phone to see you clutching your chest and panting.

“Woah, what happened?” She asked as she sat upright. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” With one of your hands, you gestured that you needed more time to catch your breath before taking a deep breath and stepping closer to the bed.

“He doesn’t have a reflection.”

Chaeryeong raised one of her eyebrows. “The babysitter? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure! He was in front of the bathroom mirror but the mirror was, like, empty!”

You could tell she wasn’t really sure whether you were telling the truth or not, making you groan and cover your face with your hands. “I’m really fucking serious! There’s something wrong with him, Chaeryeong!”

A heavy sigh sounded from Chaeryeong’s place on your bed. “I don’t know…what kind of person doesn’t have a reflection?”

“All humans have reflections,” you shrugged, your head tilted as your mind considered each and every possibility. “maybe he isn’t human.”

Chaeryeong snorted and rolled her eyes. “What is he then? A vampire?” The comment was definitely meant to be a joke given the way she’d said it, but the way your eyes widened and jaw drop was all too serious. “Oh my god, is he really a vampire?”

You looked around your room frantically, feeling the smallest bit of relief when you saw your laptop resting on your beside table. Chaeryeong made room for you in the bed, watching as your fingers flew over the keys.

How to identify a vampire.

“Asks to be invited into your home…no reflection…powerful presence or aura,” you skimmed over the first three bullet points shown before you and felt your mouth go dry. Soonyoung, so far, was definitely fitting the description of a vampire.

“Look,” Chaeryeong pointed to the next bullet point and read it aloud. “When a person is injured, make sure to find out if their focus is more on the injured person or the injury itself.” You looked at her, unsure of what his point was. Nobody in the house had been injured?

“Yeah, so?”

“So we’ve gotta injure you.” She scoffed, a little confused as to how you weren’t following her crazy thought process.

You leaned away from her. “What? Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re the one that wants to prove it so bad, aren’t you?” It was hard to argue with that one, you were the one who brought it up in the first place. You grumbled and slammed your laptop shut.

“Fine! But if we do all this and he ends up being just some guy I’m expecting a very long apology from you.”

Chaeryeong just smiled brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Soonyoung had brought Leo up to bed much earlier than he thought he would; your brother mumbled something about using all his brainpower on the fractions, and Soonyoung had laughed and tucked him into the covers. When he returned downstairs, he noticed the kitchen lights were on. Once he reached the bottom, he could see Chaeryeong holding your quivering body in the kitchen, a knife and an apple discarded on the kitchen island.

“What happened?” He asked, the faintest hint of worry in his voice.

The truth of what happened is quite simple; you and Chaeryeong snuck down here while Soonyoung was putting Leo to bed, she gave you a small (but still painful) cut on your index finger, and now you were standing here trying to sell it.

“[Y/n] was gonna split this apple with me, but I totally forgot how awful she is with knives. I think she cut her finger open, does it look bad?” Chaeryeong grabbed your wrist, holding your now opened hand closer to Soonyoung’s face. The blood had pooled where the cut was and started to streak down your finger. He sucked in a breath, struggling to look away from it.

“Y-Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” Soonyoung gulped, watching the red liquid falling down past your knuckles. He licked his lips, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you pulled your finger away. Then and only then did Soonyoung look at you in the eyes again.

“Everything okay? You seemed kind of distracted.” You tilted your head to the side. “You seemed really focused on the blood, don’t you think?”

Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh please, I was not.” You and Chaeryeong exchanged a look, and you held up your bleeding finger in front of his face again. Soonyoung’s focus shifted once more, his eyes zeroing in on the streak of blood that was beginning to go dry. You turned away to rinse it under the sink and shook off the water once it was all washed away.

“Yeah, okay.” Chaeryeong said, reaching into her pocket and handing you a band-aid. “So you’re a vampire, right?”

To say the least, Soonyoung seemed shocked and offended that you had caught him so easily, as if he hadn’t been the most obvious vampire ever. “What? A vampire? Please, how could you ever think that?” It was almost pathetic how he was actually trying to convince you otherwise when the evidence was already there, maybe he actually thought he could wiggle his way out of this.

“Look, we already know. Just drop it.” You sighed, and Soonyoung did the same.

“Aw, mannnnnnn.” He whined. “What gave it away?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Chaeryeong asked him, her voice riddled with sarcasm. Soonyoung looked down and mumbled the word “no,” and Chaeryeong nodded pointedly. “Thought so.”

So you were right. Soonyoung was a vampire. He was also your little brother’s babysitter. It’s funny, you could’ve sworn you’ve seen a show like this before a really long time ago, one whose name wasn’t coming to mind right now. Whatever, back to the main point. Soonyoung was a vampire.

“Why are you here?” You questioned him, holding up a fork to his neck. “Are you gonna kill us?”

“Woah, um, first of all,” He closed his hands around yours and lowered it, and you noticed how cold he felt. Probably another vampire thing. You snatched your hand away, and he seemed confused, but shook his head and continued on. “That silver thing? It’s just a myth. Second of all, why would I wanna kill you? It’s not like your parents wouldn’t notice. Not to mention we don’t go feeding on people randomly, consent is a thing, you know.” You could’ve laughed at that. A creature that survived off of draining the blood of others caring about their right to say no seemed ironic.

“And anyway, did you seriously expect to kill me with a fork?”

Chaeryeong burst into laughter, though she tried to play it off by coughing when she saw you glaring at her. “Sorry…” She picked up the fork and the knife and dumped them back into the silverware drawer to prevent you from making any more threats against Soonyoung. Your parents also didn’t trust you with metal utensils for…reasons similar to this.

You rolled your eyes. “So what happened to Junhui? Why couldn’t he come?”

The blond shrugged. “I dunno, he said that he was feeling sick, so he asked me to come in his place. Does that really matter?”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want some freaky undead creature looking after my little brother!” You retorted, raising your voice just a little. He might’ve been against eating people, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still a monster.

“[Y/n], that’s kinda…” Soonyoung held up one of his hands, signaling for Chaeryeong to stop talking.

“How do you know Jun isn’t a vampire?” He tilted his head as he asked that, then pursed his lips while he waited for your answer.

So he was a vampire and a smart-ass. Great.

“I don’t know!” You turned your head away from him. “This is just…freaky. I didn’t know vampires could be so—”

“Witty? Handsome? Charming? I know, I get that all the time.”

“Stupid.”

Chaeryeong laughed again.

Soonyoung raised one of his eyebrows. “Stupid guys must be your type then. Well, according to Chaeryeong, if I heard correctly.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “You heard all that?” Soonyoung nodded, smiling when he noticed the way you reacted.

“Every single word. You know, maybe you should do more research.” He flicked you on the forehead and grinned when you let out a yelp of pain.

“Anyway.” Chaeryeong mumbled. “It’s getting late, my sister is on her way to get me. Good luck with…” She gestured between Soonyoung and you. “whatever you’ve got going on.” She reached forward and grabbed the discarded apple from its place on the island and padded upstairs to get her stuff from your room.

A gleeful smile crept its way onto his lips as he turned his head to look at you. “She’s leaving. You know what that means, it’ll just be me and you once she’s gone.”

“If you try anything, I will go get the fork. I don’t care if it kills you or not.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed through the kitchen. It was weird, he didn’t sound or look like an evil blood-sucking monster. He just looked and sounded…normal. And a little shiny.

“Later [Y/n]! Bye Soonyoung. Have fun!” Chaeryeong waved to you from the stairs. You replied with a goodbye of your own, and Soonyoung hummed, listening for the sound of the door closing shut before turning you around and pushing you against the island.

You gasped. “What are you doing?” The way you squirmed in his hold was amusing to Soonyoung, acting as if you could get away. You were so cute, thinking you could get away from him. This would be more enjoyable than he thought.

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of me. I can make you feel so good, baby.” You scoffed, the sound turning into a low moan when he started grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“I’m not afraid of you,” The shakiness in your voice poked a hole in your believability, but Soonyoung didn’t think too much of it. He lowered his head to the side of your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You shivered with a horrible realization; you liked it.

“Mmm, then maybe you like me. Is that why your heart is beating so fast?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

A whine echoed through the kitchen. Your whine. “Wait, my parents…”

You gasped a second time when Soonyoung turned you so you were facing him, and you watched him roll his eyes with that annoying smile plastered on his face. “Oh, them? They’re coming home late. Your mom locked the keys in the car, so they’ll be a while.” Just when you were about to respond, he turned you around again, the feeling of his breath on your neck making you shiver. “So just focus on me, got it?”

His hands traveled over your body, stopping to squeeze your chest or your ass. You should’ve been embarrassed with how you reacted so eagerly to his touch, but he was actually making you feel good. Well, whatever. It’s not like you’d actually let him know—

“I can get rid of these, right?” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pajama pants, pulling them down along with your underwear the second you gave him a nod of confirmation. The fabric drops down your legs and pools at your feet and you kicked it aside. Soonyoung reached between your legs, collecting the wetness between them and holding it up to your face, fingers glistening with your arousal. “Look how wet you are for the freaky undead creature. You like this, don’t you?”

“N-no. I don’t like this or you.” Even though you said all that and shook your head, Soonyoung could tell you didn’t mean it. He reached between your legs again, this time to ease one of his fingers inside of you.

“The way you’re moaning for me says otherwise.” As he said that, he pushed another one of his fingers past your walls and eliciting another one of those not so subtle sounds from you that he loved. You didn’t even have to see him to know that he was pleased with himself getting you all worked up like this.

He was arrogant. He was full of himself. He was a smug bastard. He was all of that and more, and it was making you weak in the fucking knees.

Three of his fingers were inside of you now, stretching you so good that it made your head spin, and you bucked your hips against his hands like you’ve never been touched a day in your life.

God, you’d never live this down.

You bit your lip so that he didn’t get the satisfaction of hearing how you were falling apart over his fingers, or how good it felt when he curled them inside of you just right, or how he had your legs shaking every time he reached your sweet spot. As if he needed the vocal confirmation (he heard the noises you were making regardless), the way you were trembling was pretty much a dead giveaway.

“You know, you still owe me a little blood.”

“What?” You turned your head as much as you could to look at him over your shoulder. Soonyoung’s eyes were darker than they were before, his hunger evident through his gaze.

How could you owe him blood? What did that even mean?

“You owe me some blood,” he repeated. “Waving your finger around in my face and refusing me a taste. You have no idea how worked up you got me all over that flimsy little cut.”

Judging by how his dick was still poking you, you seriously doubted that.

You turned your head back around, not wanting him to see your face as you weighed your options. You didn’t really know what would happen if he did bite you. Would it hurt? Would it feel good?

Only one way to find out.

“Just…do it fast.” You tilted your head to give him better access to your neck. Soonyoung smiles wide—not like you could see it, but you were imagining that he was in this situation. He withdraws his fingers from their place inside you, much to your dismay, but he’s now holding them to your lips. He groans when you open your mouth and allows him to slip his fingers in and mumbling something that you can’t pick up over the sound of your thumping heartbeat.

“It shouldn’t hurt too much, but let me know if I need to stop.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the spot on your neck that he was sinking his fangs into no more than a second later, giving you no time to process his little act of intimacy. It stung for a moment, but what followed the initial sting of pain was the most intense and overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Soonyoung moans with absolutely no shame when your blood fills his mouth. He’s never tasted anyone as good as you, and he realizes that he could quickly become addicted to you. Your sounds, your blood, your pussy, each and every part of you inside and out was intoxicating.

You wrap your hands around his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth, wanting to have him hear your next words clearly. “Fuck me…please.”

He nearly chokes when you ask him that, forcing himself to pull away just so he can ask you to repeat yourself. He licks the remnants of your blood from his lips and your wound so that it’ll seal. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Clearly your expectations for him were still far too high, because instead of taking you to bed or at least the couch, he had you laid on the kitchen floor. Yeah, you’re definitely never living this down.

And yet despite all this, you can’t help but drool when you finally got to see Soonyoung’s cock beyond the confines of his sweatpants. He looks down at you, smirking, and despite your heightened arousal you still feel an urge to kick his cocky little ass.

“Can you get down here before I change my mind?”

He waves at you dismissively as if he hadn’t been the one all over you. “Need a condom. Got one on you?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m clean and on the pill. Come on, just fuck me already, oh my—”

Soonyoung happily lowered himself onto the floor, his lips on yours as he guided himself inside of you inch by inch. He tasted like your blood, obviously, but there was an also a faint taste of pink starburst too. Something he probably got from Leo, no doubt. The combination was weird, but somehow you figured it suited him.

“God. So f-fucking big, Soonie!”

Gone is the last bit of your composure with Soonyoung’s cock buried inside of you, blurting out any thought that came to your head against his lips.

“Shhh, not so loud, baby,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want to have your bother wake up and find out what a slut you are, would you?” Yeah right, you think. Leo could sleep through anything, including you getting dicked down by his babysitter. But getting called a slut by him in that sickly sweet way had you clenching around him. “Fuck, warn me if you’re gonna do that.”

“Like I knew it would happen.” You hissed, making him laugh. He found this back and forth thing going on between the two of you fun, especially when he could get you so worked up and vice versa.

He waited until your body had relaxed to start moving, having to keep one of his hands over your mouth each time he thrusted into you because despite what he’d said earlier you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It wasn’t your fault that the kitchen was so echoey or that Soonyoung was giving it to you so fucking good.

“You’re such a cute little thing,” He laughed breathily into your neck. “I loved how much of a fight you put up for me baby. Now look at you. You’re mine.”

“All—ah—yours,” your words were muffled by his hands, but he understood you perfectly. The embarrassment you felt earlier was gone, completely replaced with thoughts of him and his cock splitting you open right here on the floor.

You felt him nod, “Mhm, you’re all mine, and I’m all yours. God, wish I could just fuck this sweet little pussy forever.”

A laugh managed slipped past your lips and he finally moved his hand away from your mouth. “You can say that?”

“God? Duh.” He sneered, becoming more and more aware of just how clueless you really were about vampire culture. “Can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you right now.”

You were just about to say something else when Soonyoung changed the angle of his hips, slamming into you even deeper than before. Your back arched, chest pressed to his, and a second later you let out a frustrated groan.

“You still fucking suck.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

He opts for a faster pace after that, spurred on by the way you close your eyes and babble his name over and over again as if it’s the only word you can say. He’s so desperate to cum, to get you to cum, to have him be the only thing on your mind when you make a mess of yourself all over him. He whispers for you to keep your eyes closed, taking your wrist in his hand and bringing it to your stomach.

“Can you feel me? Right…” He moves your hand around a little before he finds the correct place, “here?” Blindly, you press down on the spot, and your eyes shoot open. He’s so, so deep, you can’t keep it together anymore.

“F-Fuck, feels so good,” your breath hitches at the end of the sentence. “Need more…”

“Yeah? Pretty baby needs more?” Soonyoung raises one of your legs over his shoulders and you swear you start seeing stars with the way he’s fucking you. “You’re so t-tight, sweetheart. Gonna cum?”

“Mmm, yeah, so c-close. Make me cum, Soonie, need it so bad.”

Soonyoung lifts his head so that he can kiss you, only breaking it to quickly mumble the words “me too” before his lips are back on yours and his finger is rubbing your clit until your body goes limp beneath his and he feels you squeezing him so tight it triggers his own orgasm, slowing the speed of his thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

Your head feels fuzzy, and you barely register the feeling of him pulling out or lifting himself off of you while you lay there and catch your breath. “Soonyoung?”

There’s no immediate response, and it makes you confused as to why. You try to lift yourself off the floor but the soreness hasn’t quite subsided, so you’ve no choice but to stay put. “Yeah, just leave me on the floor. Not like I need your help or anything.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting you to be all sticky.” He huffs, wiping the insides of your thighs with a damp washcloth, then proceeding to wipe down the floor and the top of the island.

“I’m still on the floor, Soonyoung.”

Smiling, he helps you to stand and even manages to get you back into your underwear and pajama pants. He won’t stop looking at you like he has something to say. Maybe, for once, it’s something important.

“What?”

“You wanna go again? I’ve still got a ton of energy.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he did. “Oh come on, I know you liked it.”

“That’s it, I’m getting the fork.”

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