#but its a bit strange when people just. seem to forget that? like i said recognizing this is one of the most important skills you can have- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

willyoubemycherryy · 26 days ago

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“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ ◛ ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you’re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…

#squid game #squid game x reader #the salesman #the recruiter #the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid game smut #the salesman smut #salesman x reader

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cumironi · 7 months ago

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OH, I'M DESTROYED : GOJO SATORU

he's your best friend— gojo satoru, he's getting married soon with kids on the way even though your heart is craving for each other, you sarcastically, jokingly tell him, “pleased? oh, I'm destroyed,” after hearing the news, he laughed, almost crying as he looks at you.

w/c. 3,4k

warning : non-sorcerer! gojo satoru. little bit angst. (idk)

p.s. when i said the reader didn't believe in god it's just for writing purposes, i, myself too believe in god. this fiction is inspired by one day series episodes 8? I forget.

“y/n, can we talk?”

there he is, satoru gojo— your bestfriend, your other half, your oasis in the desert, your everything. standing with two of his warm, delicate hands stuffed into his pocket. a warm smile makes themselves home on his handsome face. his blue eyes— satoru gojo’s blue eyes, shimmered like the clearest ocean on a sunlit day, mesmerizing depths promising thousand, endless even, unspoken emotions.

each glance felt like being wrapped in the gentle embrace of a summer breeze, full of warmth and tender affection. his eyes held a universe of mystery and allure, making it impossible to look away, as if they whispered secrets of love and devotion only meant for you— hah, you wish’ you thought.

“sure,” you smile.

your hands gripping the bouquet tightly, so tight the spine cuts through your finger without you realizing. you two walk side by side into the maze behind the chapel where suguru geto and shoko ieiri weddings are held, yours and gojo’s other friends. you refuse to look at him, sparing the man a glance that feels strange after all those two years living your life with no contact from him, neither do you try to reach him, at least not after the fight you have that night.

“how are you doing, y/n?”

the simple question lingers through the air for quite a time when the two enter the maze. your silken hair is pretty, falling gently, enchanting, on your back, touching the soft material of your bridesmaid dress, a blue one, the same color as his eyes— oh, his eyes.

you look to your left to fulfill the starving of your heart, take a glimpse by a glimpse of his frame. two years was too long without seeing those pretty eyes, those warm smiles, those pretty long white lashes, those . . . no, just him.

“it was fine,” lied, of course.

you couldn’t find the courage to pour your heart out, you wouldn’t dare. you wouldn’t dare to tell your best friend how much the longing, how thousand days and nights, and each time you closed your eyes there he was before you, standing in the void inside your dream, how he all of the other people the one who you falling into the abyss to.

“turn right?”

you only nodded, his palm barely touched your lower back and your breath was already prepared to leave your body only for it to come back the second gojo pulled his hand away. the two of you sat on the concrete bench, nailed in the middle of the maze. under the moonlight, the soft glow casting a magical aura around you. the silvery light made gojo’s eyes come alive, no longer hidden behind the black glasses he once wore so often.

his striking blue eyes shone with an ethereal brilliance, reflecting the moon’s gentle radiance. his white locks shimmered like strands of stardust, adding to his otherworldly beauty. in that moment, with the moonlight dancing on his features, he looked more breathtaking than ever, a living embodiment of celestial grace and charm. the night seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself paused to admire the sheer beauty of the scene, leaving you both enveloped in a cocoon of serene enchantment.

he is as beautiful as ever, as breathtaking as you can remember— that’s how you always saw him.

oh, but how gojo wishes you could see the way he sees you. sitting before him, his oh-so-called-bestfriend, his unwavering rock, his compass, and how sometimes— no, every time, it’s just ‘his’.

under the moonlight, with its silvery beams casting a soft glow around you, in the heart of the maze where the world feels like a distant dream, it’s just the two of you. the stillness of the night amplifies the beauty of the moment, every shadow and glint of light painting a picture of serene intimacy. here, in this secluded sanctuary, surrounded by the whispering leaves and the cool night air, the universe narrows to the space between you.

gojo looks at you, his eyes filled with a tender intensity, wishing you could see yourself as he does—captivating, radiant, and indispensable. in this moment, under the tranquil moonlit sky, you are his everything, the silent heartbeat of his existence, the unspoken song of his soul.

“you know,” you say, breaking the silence, “i never thought we’d end up here again. thought you’d be too busy saving the world or something,” you throwing the man side glance, a little smirk playing on your lips.

gojo chuckles, the sound light and familiar. he brings the glass of almost-finished wine to his lips, takes a sip before answering, “and i thought you’d be too busy being mad at me forever,” he jokingly smiled at you.

you roll your eyes, the smirk turns into a smile, tugging at your lips. “well, you did deserve it. you were being insufferable,” you laugh a little. and without you notice, it caught gojo by surprise, a little. two years long he survived with hearing your little giggle— giggle for me, again’ he thought. eyes fixed to you as he takes another sip, smiling.

he smirks, leaning back on his hands. “insufferable? that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” your head slightly shook, “nope, just accurate,” you retort, popping the ‘p’ as you nudging his shoulder playfully. “you have a way of getting under people’s skin, you know.”

“oh, come on,” he protests, a teasing glint in his eyes. “you know you missed me. admit it.”

“missed you?” you asked, giving the man a glimpse of ‘knowing look’ before smiling, “more like missed having someone to argue with,” you reply, though there’s a softness to your words. you glance at him again, the moonlight making his blue eyes shimmer like twin stars. “it’s been quiet without you around.”

he laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet night. “same old you. always ready with a comeback.”

“and same old you, always thinking you’re the center of the universe,” you quip, though your tone is softer now, the old familiarity seeping back. “well, i am pretty important,” he says with a wink, but then his expression turns more serious. “i’m sorry, you know,” his eyes moving slowly, looking for your expression, “for what happened. i never wanted to hurt you.”

for the second time, you nodded your head, eyes focusing on your laps. you finish the rest of the wine on your glass before putting the glass down on the bench and look at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “i know, satoru. i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have walked away like that.”

he reaches out, taking your hand in his. the hands he always wants to hold, straving even. the hands that always perfectly fits with his like a puzzle, the warm, your pulse hitting your soft skin a little harder every time he holds it— oh, how he loves the feeling. “we both made mistakes. but we’re here now. can we start over?” you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch. “yeah, i’d like that.”

he grins, the mischievous spark back in his eyes. “good. because i’ve got two years of teasing to make up for.” you laugh, shaking your head as your brain begging you to let go of his hands, so you did.

shaking your head slightly, you scoff, “bring it on, gojo. i’m ready.”

he shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “you know, i really did miss you. it wasn’t the same without my best friend around.”

best-friend, fucking hate that word’ you thought.

you look at him, the honesty in his words melting away the last remnants of your anger and blossoming the garden of regret and sadness you used to grow, still. “i missed you too,” you smile so little, just like how your feelings made you feel right now. “more than i wanted to admit,” you added, jokingly.

gojo chuckles softly. “well, lucky for you, i’m back now. and i’m not going anywhere.”

please don’t— you want to beg him, wishing he wouldn’t make any promises, you hope he would go anywhere. at least until these feelings start to leave your body, faded, disappearing like whispers on the wind.

but you smile because feeling a sense of peace settles over you. “good,” you lie to yourself. “because i don't think i could handle losing you again,” it was a pleasure to be burn for gojo satoru, it was always a pleasure.

he looks at you, his eyes filled with tender intensity and something unfamiliar— you think, only to not realize he looks at you just like how the way you look at him. his love for you breaking all his bones and soul, but all he can do is just laugh; you were his best friend, after all. beautiful, crushingly so even, you look like the rest of my life— no, that’s not how a best friend thinks of his best friend. gojo satoru wouldn’t dare.

“you won’t. not if i can help it.”

the two of you just look at each other after that, with soft smiles on your faces, letting the weight of the past dissolve in the quiet night. under the moonlight, in the heart of the maze, it feels as if the world has been righted, and for the first time in a long while, everything feels as it should be.

or maybe it shouldn’t.

gojo shifted slightly and reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. “hey, i have something for you,” he said, his voice tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. curious, you watched as he pulled out an envelope. the paper was thick and elegant— the kind used for important occasions, a soft lavender color that stood out against the dark fabric of his suit. he handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours, sending a familiar warmth through you.

you took the envelope, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread. opening it carefully, you find a beautifully crafted wedding invitation inside. the names on it made your breath catch in your throat: satoru gojo and his fiancée.

your heart sank, but you managed to keep your expression neutral. “satoru..” your voice came out as a whisper, blending with the soft hustle of the leaves. “this is lovely,” you said, forcing a smile as you looked up at him.

gojo’s eyes searched yours as if trying to read your thoughts. the grief— it’s all over your eyes, the grief that is more honest to him than you ever could. but gojo does not know the reason, why are you grieving? it is because of your sorrow and he can’t give you the shoulder? or is it because you, once again, are letting yourself burn for loving him? the saddest is, he doesn’t know that, not that he has to.

is it still a pleasure to burn for him now?

“i wanted you to have it first,” he said quietly. “you’ve always been important to me, more than anyone else.” the weight of his words hung in the air, making it harder to maintain your composure. “thank you,” you replied, your voice barely steady. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you smile at each other as if trying to comfort each other. “are you pleased?” he asked softly— too afraid if his voice came out louder, he would break you. please, don’t say yes’ he begged his heart. just say the word, y/n’ he continued. he begged, once, twice, three time, for the past twelve years of his life knowing you, under the moonlight, to the moon that you say the words, begging him to stop the wedding. just say the word and he’ll come running to you.

you groan a little, “pleased? oh, i’m destroyed.”

no, he was destroyed.

so he leaned closer, faster enough to fill his eyes with a mixture of affection and again, something you couldn't quite identify. “you know, you’ve always been my closest friend. my confidant. my anchor.” you nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “and you’ve been mine,” you said softly, the unspoken words lingering between you.

the silence between you grew heavier as you stared at the lavender envelope in your hands. with a deep breath, you carefully opened the lavender envelope, your fingers trembling. the wedding invitation was exquisitely crafted, each detail speaking of the elegance and care that had gone into its creation. the elegant script revealing the date. seven weeks from now. your heart sank further, the realization hitting you like a wave.

you looked up at gojo, the question evident in your eyes. “seven weeks?” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. “that’s. . . soon.” he nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “yeah, it’s a ‘shotgun’ wedding,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “things have been moving quickly when you are not around,” your heart ached at his words, the reality of his imminent marriage sinking in. “why so soon?" you asked, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “you are going to be a father? is that allowed?”

he chuckled at your attempt to joke, trying to hide the sadness that was so clearly there behind his eyes. the smile on his lips didn’t quite reach them, but he tried his best to keep up a brave face for you.

he scoffs, “apparently, they did,” he nodded.

he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to act as though it didn’t bother him in the slightest. he didn’t want you to know just how much turmoil he was facing with this entire situation. “yeah, not like we had much of a choice in the whole matter . . .” the fact that he was getting married had been eating at him for weeks. all of that time he had spent with you, all the memories. in just seven short, short weeks it would come to an end. he wanted to tell you. tell you just how much you meant to him, but . . .

but what? would it do any good?

your hand is gripping tightly around the bouquet, so tight, suffocating, until— for the second time that night the spine digs itself through your skin, straight to your heart— the pain, it’s unbearable, you feel like dying.

there was a long pause, the maze around you silent except for the faint rustling of leaves. you wanted to tell him everything, to confess how much he meant to you, but fear held you back. instead, you tried to focus on the moment, on the bittersweet reality of his impending marriage. “oh, my god—” you choke on your own. one hand covering your mouth before you face him.

gojo reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. “promise me we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” he said, his voice almost pleading. you squeezed his hand, fighting back tears. “always,” you promised, even as your heart shattered a little more. your hands, the one he wants to carry his heart by.

your eyes are shaking, matching his heart, it’s hurting. “i’m so happy for you,” your smile didn’t reach your eyes. someone once said that people’s hearts appear in their eyes, gojo can see yours now; it’s broken, shattered before him.

please don’t be happy for me, be miserable, so i don’t have the heart to leave you, so i can be with you,’ he wants to scream at you.

“oh, god, i’m so happy for you. . .”

look at you, a girl who doesn’t believe in god now crying, begging, pleading while calling his name because the pain was unbearable. how is cruel love can be?

the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, the lavender invitation between you acting as both a bridge and a barrier. you took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up, and without thinking, you pulled gojo into a hug. he stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, wrapping his arms around you in a familiar embrace.

your tears flowed freely, once, twice, thrice, the moonlight catching them and making your eyes sparkle like crystals. “i’m happy for you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of joy and sorrow. satoru held you tighter, his breath warm against your ear. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “it means everything to me to have your support.”

the maze around you seemed to close in, the hedges whispering secrets and memories of times past. you clung to him, your heartbreaking and mending all at once, the scent of the night flowers mingling with the salt of your tears. “i wish you every happiness,” you continued, your words barely more than a breath. “you deserve it, ‘toru. you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. his own were glistening, the usual sparkle tempered by the weight of the moment. “and you deserve happiness too,” he said softly, his thumb gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “promise me you’ll find it.”

your foreheads met, and the gentle press of his skin against yours felt like the most natural thing in the world. your breaths mingled, soft and warm, creating a delicate rhythm that only the two of you shared, a silent conversation of souls.

his eyes, filled with a depth of emotion you had always known but never fully understood, locked with yours. the moonlight bathed you both in a soft, ethereal glow, casting a spell that held the night in a timeless embrace. every unspoken word, every hidden feeling, shimmered in the air between you, a tapestry of love and longing woven through years of friendship.

gojo’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch feather-light, as if he were afraid you might disappear. slowly, almost reverently, he began to close the gap between you. his movements were unhurried, each inch a testament to the gravity of the moment, the culmination of everything that had been left unsaid.

your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, erratic beat that seemed to echo through the silence. the anticipation was electric, every second stretched into an eternity. as his lips drew nearer, you felt the world around you blur into insignificance, the maze and the moonlight fading into the background. then, with a tenderness that took your breath away, his lips brushed against yours. the touch was soft, almost tentative, like the whisper of a dream.

oh, how empty he is to be full by you.

the contact sent a shiver through you, a spark that ignited every fiber of your being. you responded instinctively, your hands finding their way to his face, fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

the kiss was everything—a confession, a promise, a revelation. it spoke of years of hidden desires, of nights spent wondering, of the unbreakable bond that had always connected you. the taste of him, the feel of his lips moving against yours, was like coming home after a long, arduous journey.

when you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the cool night air, you opened your eyes to find him gazing at you with an expression that mirrored your own—wonder, longing, and a profound sense of rightness. ‘longing’, such a tender name for such a miserable state of being.

you nodded, the ache in your chest making it hard to speak. “i’ll try,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but right now, i just need to be here for you.” gojo’s gaze held yours, the moonlight illuminating the silent understanding passing between you. “you’ve always been there for me,” he said, his voice a soft caress. “and i hope you always will be.”

the world around you seemed to fade, the only sounds the rustling of the leaves and the steady beating of your hearts. you felt a bittersweet calm wash over you, knowing that despite everything, your bond with satoru was unbreakable, saddest.

“i will be,” you promised, your voice firm despite the tears. “no matter what.”

he smiled then, a small, tender smile that spoke of shared sorrow, of the disaster from loving you, but oh how he promised, i will always be this tender for you. “good,” he whispered, pulling you back into his arms. “because i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his arm tightly around you as your cheeks rest against his chest— he gathers you up, folds you to his heart, and looks at each other a little too long to be just friends.

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amiaenn · 1 month ago

Text

Habits

Harumasa × reader

Note:I was so deeply imbued with this character that I was inspired to pour out my thoughts here a little bit. (+I myself have problems with my lungs and heart, so I understand this bro as much as possible).I apologize in advance for my mistakes, this is my first experience in writing (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

genre/warnings: nope.It's just fluff, don't worry.

wc: ~800 words

Ever since you started dating Harumasa, it has seemed to you that your apartment is slowly turning into a medical office and new habits have appeared in your life. An abundance of various pills, ointments, saline solutions and many other things, the names of which you have not even heard of until recently, filled your shelves. Any pharmacy would envy such supplies of medicines.

And of course, your everyday life has changed too. No, of course you understood that it would change with the appearance of another person in your apartment, but you could not have imagined that Harumasa would bring new activities into your routine that you could not even think about until now.

First, maintaining order in the house. It cannot be said that you were completely dirty in this regard before, but sometimes you can put off sorting out some dusty shelf for later, right? Now forget about it. Asaba is the kind of person who starts a coughing fit from a single speck of dust, and you were sincerely sorry to see and hear him cough, and knowing about his lung problems, you immediately thought that now wet cleaning will be daily, no matter what it costs you, even despite Harumasa's eternal words that he is not a weak guy who can get sick from such household trifles (although his body's reaction says otherwise).

Secondly, now you have increased knowledge about various diseases (especially those related to the heart and lungs). How and what affects this, what is a state of remission and how to maintain it. Well, of course, in connection with this, you began to go with Harumasa to pharmacies to buy the necessary medications. And going out on such shopping, you remembered more and more the names of these pills. You can even confidently say that you remembered this entire list as long as the Great Wall of China.

Third, this is cooking. Yeah, for people who get sick easily, a special diet is needed. A balance of proteins, fats and carbohydrates. It is unlikely that a weak body will tolerate an abundance of chemicals in food, so you need to be more careful with this issue of cooking and selecting ingredients, so you will have to exclude all this harmful food, or at least limit its consumption to a minimum. To support Harumasa in this difficult matter, you decided to give up all the harmful food that you had previously consumed and switch to a healthy diet. One day, you impulsively got rid of all the snacks and bought vegetables and fruits, creating real chaos in the kitchen. Soup is boiling in one corner, vegetables are baking in another, while fruits are being cut on the table and, seeing this picture, Asaba only chuckled and said "Need help?" To which you nodded aggressively, and the guy already went to put on his apron.

Well, and the most interesting thing. A bitter taste began to be felt on your lips more often. You couldn't say that you were a doomed lover of bitter, on the contrary, you tried to avoid bitterness. Once you tried espresso and the fact that it was not a very pleasant experience is to say nothing. But with the appearance of Harumasa, you began to feel the taste of bitterness on your lips. And, you guessed it, all because of his kisses. It's no secret that Harumasa takes pills more often than food and this leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. But he stopped noticing it a long time ago, because years of taking medications give an addiction to this taste and it becomes unnoticeable. But you feel it fully, but to your surprise it felt.. nice? Yes, that's right. Strangely nice, for a lover of sweets like you. When you felt this taste for the first time, your eyes widened and the question "How can he calmly consume such bitter medications?" was spinning in your head. He noticed your surprise and involuntarily wondered what he did that caused such a reaction. Harumasa decided not to hesitate with the question and casually asked, "Something wrong, baby?"

You just awkwardly shrug your shoulders at this question, as if you don't understand what he's talking about, "No...no, everything's fine, don't get hung up on it."

After this incident, you began to get used to it, and after some time, the taste of bitterness began to be associated with something good and familiar. Something that brings a smile. Even more, now you wanted to feel it more often and you began to kiss Asaba at every opportunity that was given to you. He came from a successfully completed mission? What a good boy, he deserved a kiss. Are you making breakfast together? How cute, you can kiss him. Is he just relaxing? A great reason for a kiss! To be honest, it bordered on addiction, but for now it was on a fine line, because you skillfully control yourself and if you are told to tone down your ardor, you will do it without question.

And yes, why did you start liking espresso? It's strange...

#harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa #zzz harumasa #zenless zone zero #zzz #soundcloud

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anamina0 · 2 months ago

Text

Echoes

Part I , Part II , Part III , Part IV , Part V , Part VI, Part VII , Part VIII

Summary : Your mind is a battlefield, a constant war between thoughts of Vi and the haunting memories of Ellie. Just when you think you’ve shaken one, the other slips in to take its place. And yet, no matter how desperately you try to keep Vi at a distance, she’s always there—like some kind of force refuses to let you walk away.

Warnings/themes : angst, trauma, heartbreak, meantions of death, fluff, kissing , yearning, both Vi and you being assholes to each other

Word count: 5.3k

“Is that really necessary?” you frowned, closing the creaky door behind you. The muffled noise of the bustling bar below faded as you stepped into the cramped room. “We’ve got plenty of customers already. Throwing a whole celebration party seems like a bit much for a shithole like this.” You shot a glance at Revek, catching the faint twitch of his expression. “No offense,” you chuckled, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Revek arched a brow, pulling a cigarette box from his pocket. “God, sometimes it’s painfully obvious you didn’t grow up around here.” He spoke through a low mutter, tapping a cigarette free. “One holiday. Just one. These people—” He lit the cigarette, the flare of the lighter briefly illuminating his rough features. “They’ve been through hell. They deserve a night to forget about it. We all do.”

You rolled your eyes, holding your hand out for the cigarette. “I’m not saying people don’t deserve to celebrate,” you said, taking a deep breath . The cigarette smoke burned your lungs for a moment before you exhaled. “It’s just…” You trailed off, your words evaporating like the smoke in the air. Shaking your head, you handed the cigarette back. “You know what? Nevermind.”

You knew what the problem really was—you didn’t want to dress up, plaster on a fake smile, and toast to something you didn’t feel connected to. But deep down, you also knew why you were here, sticking around Revek. He was there for you when no one else was. The least you could do was return the favor.

“So,” you said after a moment, forcing a smile. “What do we need? Food? Drinks? Decorations?”

Revek’s lips curled into an easy grin as he exhaled another puff of smoke. “Just get a good night’s sleep, wear something that’ll turn a few heads, and get ready to have fun.”

“Whatever you say, big guy,” you smirked, passing the cigarette back. One last exhale, one last cloud of hazy smoke, and you pulled your jacket tighter around you. As you headed for the stairs, you glanced over your shoulder. “Don’t stay up all night, yeah? Try to save some of that cheer for the party.”

His laugh followed you down the creaking stairwell, echoing faintly against the worn walls.

The walk home was short, five minutes through the narrow streets of Zaun, weaving between patches of grime and bursts of chaotic energy. Your apartment wasn’t much—a sagging roof, flaking walls, and windows that hardly held back the bitter winds—but it was cheap. The streets hummed with life, as always. Shouts, laughter, the distant clatter of machinery—it surrounded you, chaos - that somehow soothed. Quiet terrified you. Silence was where thoughts crept in—unbidden and unwelcome. And you’d learned long ago that your thoughts were anything but gentle.

Pausing at your building’s stoop, you glanced back. The bar’s neon sign blinked faintly in the distance, its light spilling into the crowded alleys. Zaun wasn’t kind, but neither were you, and in its rough-edged way, it felt like home. The metal stairs groaned softly under your weight as you climbed toward your apartment. The wind whistled through the gaps in the railing, carrying the smell of oil and smoke from Zaun’s chaotic streets. From this angle, you could see the city glimpse of the city —grimy, alive, a restless pulse of neon lights and shouts echoing into the night. For a brief moment, you paused, gripping the cool rail. Looking down at the messy, relentless energy below, a strange sense of belonging settled over you. Zaun wasn’t for everyone, but for some strange reason, it was for you.

Your apartment greeted you with silence and shadow. The jacket slipped from your fingers, landing carelessly on the floor as your eyes scanned the small room. It wasn’t much—barely enough space to breathe—but it was yours. Your gaze drifted to the fridge. The grumble in your stomach reminded you how little you’d eaten today, though you hadn’t realized it until now.

Crossing to the kitchen area, you pulled open the fridge door. Grabbing some leftovers, you made your way to the couch, balancing the plate on the floor as you shuffled through your small collection of records. Fingers brushed over familiar album covers before settling on one. Placing it on the player, the first crackling notes filled the room, warm and comforting. You sank back onto the couch, letting the music wrap around you. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the thoughts clawing at the edge of your mind. No sooner had you closed your eyes than Vi’s face surfaced, unbidden. Her sharp, determined expression. The hard edge of her voice, the way she filled a room with a rough, commanding presence .

You shook your head, frowning. Why couldn’t you get her out of your head? You barely knew her, and what little interaction you’d had wasn’t exactly pleasant. She was cocky, rude, and dismissive, sparing you little more than a glance whenever she bothered to show up at the bar. Then there were the girls—always someone new, someone eager. Yet Vi never lingered, always on to the next, like nothing and no one mattered to her. She lived with violence and anger simmering under her skin, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. You’d seen it firsthand. Your fingers traced lightly over your right cheek, where she hit you. It hurt. It was an accident , but still hurt.

And yet, here you were. Thinking about her. Letting her stormy eyes and crooked smirk linger in your mind longer than you wanted them to. It made you angry—angry at her, but mostly at yourself, at how effortlessly she occupied a space in your head when you knew she shouldn’t. Rave of unsettling emotions started swirling around , you were desperate to find answer to one question. Why was your mind still lingering towards her?

You tried to brush her off from your head, concentrate on something else as familiar melody swirled in your ears. And before you realized, it was already too late.

�� 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“Hey, hey, hey,” her raspy voice whispered, warm and familiar, as arms wrapped tightly around you. Her touch melted into you, grounding you when everything inside felt like it was spinning out of control. “Bad dream?” she added, her lips brushing your cheek with a soft kiss.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to calm yourself “It was mom and Hannah,” you admitted, voice cracking. You glanced up at her, the closeness of her body almost overwhelming in its warmth.

Her expression softened instantly, her green eyes reflecting the dim light of the room. “I’m here,” she murmured, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Wanna talk about it?”

You swallowed hard, throat tightening against the weight of the memory. “My mind…” You paused, gripping her tighter. “It took me back. To the day they died. It was so calm that day. So damn calm, like the world was just waiting to pull the rug out from under me.”

Her fingers moved in soft circles on your shoulder, her exhale measured and comforting. “You have to let it go,” she said quietly. “The guilt…”

A hollow laugh escaped your lips as you looked down. “Easier said than done.” But you smiled faintly, even through the ache.

She shifted slightly, her hand tilting your chin so you’d meet her gaze. Her presence-was like standing in sunlight after a storm. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her eyes, only care. Only her.

Here she was. The only person who could calm your storms. After meeting her, you’d finally begun to understand what people meant when they talked about moving on—not to forget, but to reach for something better. Someone better. She wasn’t just a person; she was your armor, light in the darkness.

“I love you, Ellie,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. You couldn’t look away, and you didn’t want to.A grin spread across her face, her freckles shifting as she laughed softly. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss so tender it unraveled something inside you. She pulled back just far enough to whisper, “I love you too,” before claiming your lips again. Her kiss was slow, deliberate, pulling you into her, stealing your pain away piece by piece. You could still feel it—the way her lips felt against yours, the warmth of her body pressing close. No matter how tough she was, when it was just the two of you, she unraveled, revealing a side of herself no one else ever saw.

And it was impossible not to love her for it.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

Not again.

The memories came flooding back, wrapping around you like suffocating chains. You clenched your fists, trying to push them down, to silence the familiar ache, but it was no use. Your gaze darted around the room, landing on the record player. That damned melody still played, winding its way through your ears and dragging the past along with it. Ellie crept into your thoughts once again, as she always did when you least wanted her there.

It wasn’t fair. Not to you, not to the person you were trying to become. But the song stirred something deep within you—an echo of what used to be. Before you realized what you were doing, you’d slammed your plate down on the floor and rushed toward the record player. Your hands shook as you stopped the music with a force that left the silence ringing in your ears. But even that wasn’t enough. The panic had already rooted itself deep inside, clawing at your chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You couldn’t sit still. Not now. Not alone.

Grabbing your jacket from where it had fallen on the floor, you stormed out of the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind you. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you needed to go somewhere. The stairwell loomed ahead, but your steps were clumsy, your mind far away. The tension in your body made every movement feel strained, disconnected. That was probably why you didn’t see it coming.

Your foot hit something, or someone, and before you knew it, you were tumbling forward, catching yourself just in time with your hands against the concrete floor. The sting of the landing shot through you, but before the annoyance could fully set in, a low groan made you freeze.

You turned quickly, brushing the dirt from your hands. “Seriously?” you snapped, frustration spilling out. “Can’t you fucking pick a better place to pass out, you—” The words stuck in your throat as you finally registered the person sprawled behind you.

Her.

“Vi?”

She looked up at you, her expression a mix of exhaustion and drunken carelessness. Even in this state, she managed to smirk, as if she wasn’t sitting half-conscious on your staircase in the middle of the night.

“Hey there, Y/N,” she drawled, her voice raspy and uneven, her speech slurred.

Shock left you dumbfounded for a moment. Then came the anger. “What the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Are you following me?”

Vi let out a lazy, half-hearted laugh. “Follow you?” She paused to steady herself before smirking again. “Why would I ever follow you?” Her words hit like a slap, but it wasn’t just the insult that got to you. It was the way she said it so casually, dismissively, like you didn’t matter at all.

Your jaw tightened as you glared down at her. “Then what are you doing passed out outside my apartment?”

Vi blinked up at you, the haze in her eyes softening as she finally focused on your face. For a brief second, something warm flickered there, like she was actually glad to see you. “Because I live here,” she mumbled, tilting her head toward the door beneath your flat. Of course. The universe really had it out for you. Of course Vi lived here, right below you, as if some cosmic joke was at play. You cursed inwardly at the revelation. Why would she ever follow you? She didn’t care about you, and deep down, you already knew that.

“Oh,” you muttered, trying to mask the embarrassment seeping into your voice. “I’ve never seen you around.”

Vi gave you a half-shrug, her coordination barely holding together. You squinted at her, taking in the sorry state she was in—the alcohol practically radiated off her. “You look like you need some help,” you said, forcing a smug grin. “You reek, by the way.”

“I could use some help,” she admitted with a groan, extending a hand toward you.

You hesitated before squatting down to grab her hand. As you tried to pull her up, it became apparent just how drunk she really was. She stumbled forward, her weight pressing into yours, so close that your noses almost touched. The proximity made your stomach flip—a mixture of irritation, panic, and something you didn’t want to name.

“You’ve got to help me out here,” you said quickly, your voice sharp to mask the awkward tension.

Vi let out a small chuckle, her trademark smirk appearing as if on instinct. “Sure thing, pretty girl,” she quipped, her words making your face burn even as you rolled your eyes. Steeling yourself, you guided her toward her apartment door, her steps shaky and slow. The entire way, you told yourself you were only helping her because no one else would. Because someone had to. Definitely not because she still managed to pull you into her orbit, whether she deserved to or not.

As you stepped into her apartment, the air shifted. It was exactly how you imagined—dim, cluttered, and steeped in melancholy, bottles scattered like forgotten relics of whatever storm had swept through here. You shut the door behind you.

“Can you walk on your own?” you asked, a bite of judgment in your voice as you glanced at her.

Vi swayed where she stood, attempting a smile but only managing a lopsided smirk. “I can try,” she mumbled, her steps as unsteady as her voice.

“You need to splash some cold water on your face,” you instructed, your tone sharp. “It’ll help.”

She let out a slow exhale, the kind that spoke of exhaustion and annoyance, but she didn’t argue. She dragged herself to the sink in the kitchen. The water hissed as she turned it on, splashing it onto her face, washing away the traces of her drunken haze—or at least trying to. You stood there, watching her, your thoughts spinning like the needle on a broken record. Just minutes ago, you’d been fleeing your own storm, running blindly from the chaos of your thoughts and memories of Ellie that refused to leave you in peace. Then, as if the universe were playing some twisted game with you, you tripped over Vi of all people. The strange coincidence of her living right below you only fueled your frustration.

You told yourself you hated her for it—for the way she managed to replace one chaos in your life with another. But deep down, some part of you was almost grateful. That small, shameful part wanted her here, even like this. Even when she was impossible.

“Pretty girl.” Her drunken words floated back to you, uninvited, pulling at something inside your chest as your eyes darted to her again. You swallowed hard, trying to shake the moment from your mind. Vi finally turned the water off, not bothering to look at you as she walked unsteadily to the sofa and let herself fall onto it. You lingered near the door, torn between leaving her there and doing something—anything—to stop whatever spiral she was in. But walking out now wasn’t an option. It never was, not when someone was unraveling right in front of you. So you took a step closer, and then another. Her silhouette against the dim light felt heavier than it should have, her sorrow filling the room like a storm cloud. You hated how familiar it all felt.

“Feeling any better?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

Vi leaned back against the sofa, her head tilted to the ceiling, eyes barely meeting yours. “Depends on what you’re asking about,” she mumbled, her voice coarse and tired.

“The alcohol,” you said, forcing a weak smile, hoping to crack through the wall she always seemed to throw up. “Though I don’t think splashing water on your face is going to fix…whatever this is.”

It was a small attempt to lighten the mood, but it hit like a brick wall. Vi’s gaze finally locked onto yours. Her makeup was smeared, her usually sharp features softened by exhaustion, but those piercing blue eyes still cut straight through you. For a second, she looked like she might let you in, might say something real. Then, her lips curled, and her voice came out sharp.

“Save all that bullshit for someone else,” she spat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

And there it was again. The walls, she didn’t just throw up defenses, she lobbed them like knives. You stared at her, your temper flaring as her words settled into your chest .“You’re such an asshole,” you snapped, stepping closer.

“You’re seriously going to treat me like this after I just dragged your sorry ass off the street?” Your voice rose, laced with frustration you couldn’t hold back anymore. “You were so drunk you couldn’t even stand. I could’ve just left you there, but no—I dragged you inside, and instead of a simple thank you, I get this? God, you’re pathetic, Vi.”

Her expression darkened, her jaw tightening as the words hit their mark. For a moment, she looked like she might fire back, but instead, she leaned forward, her forearms resting on her knees, her hands clasped together. She didn’t speak, but the weight in her gaze was enough to make your chest tighten. The silence stretched on, thick with tension. You were standing so close now, the space between you feeling smaller and smaller with every passing second. Intimidation radiated off her, even slouched and broken like this. Yet, beneath it, there was something else. Something fragile she didn’t want you to see but couldn’t entirely hide. And that infuriated you even more. Because no matter how much she pushed you away, no matter how much she twisted your emotions, part of you couldn’t look away.

Then something shifted in her, as it always seemed to when the silence between you dragged on too long.

“Where were you running off to, anyway?” she asked, her voice softer now, though still carrying that faint edge of amusement. “You looked like a psychopath, sprinting out there like that.” A chuckle slipped past her lips, light but dry, like she was trying to mock you and not quite succeeding. You glanced at her, unable to fully brush off her words. Her tone—teasing as it was—held something else beneath it, something you weren’t ready to face.

“That’s… a long story,” you replied, your voice quiet, the weight of the moment anchoring you. You didn’t even realize you were sitting beside her now, close enough to see the way her messy bangs fell into her face. You sighed, chuckling weakly, “Let’s just say I was running away from my own mind.”

At that, her teasing demeanor softened further. Her gaze lingered on you, the faintest flicker of understanding crossing her face. For a moment, it was like she knew exactly what you meant, even though you hadn’t said a word about the storm of emotions inside you.

“Sounds familiar,” she murmured, her voice dropping lower. She paused, her tongue grazing the corner of her lips before she added, “Did you?”

The abruptness of the question caught you off guard. “Did I what?”

“Get away,” she clarified, tilting her head slightly.

“Well,” you exhaled sharply, aiming for humor to deflect the weight of her question, “it’s hard to run away from anything when your drunk neighbor almost sends you flying down the stairs.”

Her lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. “You’re welcome.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “You’re the reason the panic attack snapped out of me, you asshole.”

“And I don’t even get a ‘thank you’ for that?” she replied, her voice laced with mock indignation.

“Uh, no. Considering I didn’t get one for dragging you off the sidewalk, I think we’re even,” you said, smirking slightly.

Her laughter was faint but real, and something about the sound eased the tightness in your chest. Yet, as the silence crept back in, the air between you shifted again. It felt raw, vulnerable. Like neither of you could ignore the unspoken weight pressing down on both of you.

“I hate the taste of alcohol,” she said suddenly, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I despise it.”

You turned to her, surprised at the admission. She wasn’t looking at you but staring off at some undefined spot in the room, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her pants.

“Every sip reminds me that I shouldn’t be doing it,” she continued, her words slower now. “I know it’s not the way to deal with anything, but…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “But I can’t stop. I have to blur everything, make my head so cloudy that I can’t hear my own thoughts. Because if I don’t…”

You didn’t dare move, afraid of breaking whatever fragile moment had settled around the two of you. Her voice cracked just slightly as she finished, “If I don’t, I’ll go crazy.”

The room was still, but her words hung heavy in the air. You looked at her—really looked at her—and for the first time, you saw past the wall she kept building. Beneath the tough exterior and sharp words was a person held together by scraps and desperation, just like you.

“I get that,” you finally said, your own voice almost a whisper. “That’s why I moved here. That’s why I bury myself in the bar, pulling shifts until my body gives out. Because if I don’t…” You hesitated, your chest tightening at the memories clawing at you. “If I’m left alone with myself for too long, everything just… comes back. All the memories. All the sadness. The guilt, the anger. It all comes at once, and I can’t—”

Your words faltered, the weight of them dragging you down. You let out a shaky breath, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. She was looking at you now, her blue eyes softer, her expression tinged with something close to understanding.

“Yeah,” she muttered, nodding slightly. “I know what you mean.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was heavy but shared. Her proximity was grounding, yet it also stirred something in you, something you didn’t want to name.

Her hand lifted slightly, almost as if she was going to reach out, but then she hesitated, letting it fall back into her lap. Whatever walls had crumbled between you, there was still a gap, one neither of you seemed ready to close. One thing remained the same—she was still a mystery. Even though you felt like you’d peeled back one of her layers tonight, so many others were still hidden beneath the surface. You wanted to change that. Desperation simmered beneath your skin to know more of her, to unravel whatever story made her the way she was. But fear held you back.Opening up to someone else? Letting them see the real you? You weren’t ready. You feared it, even hated the part of yourself that was willing to risk it again. The last time you let someone in, it hadn’t ended well—your mother and sister’s deaths, your brother abandoning you, Ellie disappearing like smoke and taking a piece of your soul with her. Every time, you ended up alone, and the thought of repeating that cycle should have stopped you.

But it didn’t.

“Can I ask you something, Vi?” you said quietly, turning toward her. You hadn’t realized just how close you’d shifted until now, the space between you narrowing to an almost unbearable degree. Her warmth radiated toward you, faint but undeniable.

“Of course,” she replied, her voice surprisingly soft. The sound of it lingered, brushing against your thoughts like a feather.

You hesitated, unsure if you should ask what was on your mind, but the curiosity, the pull, was too strong. “How did you end up… alone?”

She exhaled, the question hitting her harder than you’d anticipated. Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers twitching slightly as if she didn’t know what to do with them.

“It’s a long story,” she murmured, looking up briefly before glancing away again. “I wasn’t always like this,” she continued, her words measured as if each carried a weight she wasn’t sure she could handle. “I had… family. A sister.”

She paused, and you could see her battling with herself, unsure if she wanted to continue. Then she whispered a name: Cait.

The way she said it sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just a name. It was a memory, a ghost that haunted her, and for a moment, you thought she might choke on the word.

“Cait,” you repeated softly, testing the waters. The name felt heavy on your tongue, and you searched her face for a reaction. “She seems like… a heartbreak,” you ventured cautiously, your voice gentle as you tried to meet her where she was.

Her jaw tightened, and all she did was nod, as if even acknowledging it aloud was too much.

"Well,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been there too.” Your lips trembled slightly as you pushed out a name you hadn’t spoken in years. “Her name was Ellie.”

Saying it felt surreal, like you were resurrecting a ghost you weren’t ready to confront. For so long, you had buried her name deep, locked behind walls you thought would keep you safe. But tonight, those walls seemed to crumble.Vi’s hand brushed against yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, and it caught you off guard. You glanced down, surprised at how soft her fingers were despite everything about her seeming rough. Her fingertips traced yours, and then she intertwined her fingers with yours, so slow and deliberate that it sent chills rushing through your entire body.A simple touch, and yet it felt so different—so good. It had been too long since you’d felt this, a connection that felt both grounding and electrifying all at once. You looked at her, your gaze locking onto hers as she didn’t move, just let her fingers remain tangled with yours. Her eyes softened in a way you hadn’t seen before, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

Without a word, she leaned forward slightly, the space between you closing even more. It felt inevitable, like gravity was pulling you together. You mirrored her movement, hardly breathing as your faces came closer, closer still. Your noses nearly brushed, and her breath warmed your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

Then panic hit, sharp and overwhelming.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not again. It was too dangerous. Too much. The fear that consumed you earlier—the fear of opening yourself up, of being broken again—came roaring back to life, pulling you away violently. You jerked back, breaking the moment and standing so quickly you nearly lost your balance. Your hands trembled as you looked around the room, anywhere but at her.

“I… I should go,” you said, the words barely audible as tears burned in your eyes. Your voice cracked, and you cursed yourself for not being stronger. Vi didn’t move. She sat there, her expression unreadable but undeniably laced with sadness. She didn’t try to stop you. She didn’t say a word, and somehow, that made it hurt even more.

You opened the door, every part of you screaming to leave, but something—some force you couldn’t explain—held you there for one last moment.

“Um,” you whispered, not even sure why you were saying it, “Revek’s having a celebration party tomorrow. You should… you should stop by. If you want to.”

It was awkward, ridiculous even, and you hated yourself for offering something so trivial after what had just happened. But the words hung in the air as you finally stepped out, closing the door behind you. By the time you reached your apartment, the tears had already spilled over, cascading down your cheeks as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Whatever had just happened between you and Vi, whatever shift had taken place, it scared you in a way nothing else had in for a long time.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

Author note: Chapter II is out!!! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think, it means world to me when you guys give me feedback and motivates me to do more .

#vi x reader #violet arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #violet x reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #vi x y/n #violet x y/n #enemies to lovers #arcane #vi x you #violet arcane x you #vi arcane x you #violet x you

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sugurugetofavoritemonkey · 3 months ago

Note

request for ethan 🤭

reader drunkenly confesses her feelings about ethan to tara or chad or something and then she avoids him the following day bc shes shy or embarrassed, but he totally likes her back (everyone knowsssss)

and it ends in smut or fluff? 😛

ps i adore ur writing! <3

A/N : Hii ! 🖤 Thank so much for your request that I loved doing, this type of idea works so well with Ethan and is so cute 🥰 Also thank you for liking my writing and sending me Ethan’s ideas, it always makes me so happy 💖 Please tell me if I did justice to your request, and you can still send more for Ethan ! ✨

Reader drunkenly confesses her feelings for Ethan to Tara and gets shy about it when in reality, everyone already knows that Ethan feels the exact same way for you.

You were at a party with all your friends, including your dearest one Ethan Landry. You even enjoyed most of this night alongside him and almost only with him as the both of you giggled, talked about anything and everything and held hands to walk through that pool of people to fill your cups. Maybe a bit too many drinks for you it seems as you were now talking with Tara, sitting on the couch in the corner, while Ethan was busy talking with Chad at the other end of the room. You started talking with her about trivial things at first but as your hazy gaze found Ethan, your drunken mind started to change the subject on its own. It has been minutes since you started talking about Ethan to Tara who listened to you with a little smile, your drunken words slowly switched from random thoughts to more precise ones that could easily be directly linked to your feelings for Ethan as you ramble about him with a slurred voice.

« …and you know, Ethan’s always kind to me. The other day, he made sure that my necklace was placed right and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. He also always holds my hand when there’s a lot of people at the cafeteria, a-and he helps me with the homework that I struggle with…and I think he compliments me every morning about some nice details he noticed on me. I t-think I like being with him…maybe…I don’t know. », you stop your rambling for a few seconds in a pout as you think about Ethan with a smile on your face.

Tara looks at you with a knowing smirk. Everybody perfectly knew that you and Ethan were meant for each other…the problem was simple : you were both incredibly blind in this situation. Tara took this situation as an opportunity to move things forward for you both as she asks you, « Do you like him ? Like…do you have feelings for Ethan ? »

Without even looking back at Tara, you swiftly nodded your head at her in a natural admission, your drunken state blurring your mind as your reactions become too instinctive and honest for a moment, « Of course I do…he’s the most perfect guy I’ve ever encountered in my life. »

Tara doesn’t have time to react when your eyes go wide as you realize what you just admitted out loud in front of your friend. Your eyes scan the room in panic in a way to make sure that Ethan wasn’t anywhere close enough to hear that.

You laugh it off and try to make her forget what you just said, « Forget about it, I d-don’t even know what I’m saying. Ethan’s just a friend, a very good friend… right ? »

Tara gently laugh at you as she rubs your hand in a reassuring way, « You don’t sound so sure of that statement, am I right ? »

The next day, you made your best to avoid Ethan at all costs seeing how embarrassed and shy you got when you admitted out loud your feelings for him, even though he wasn’t there to hear. What you didn’t take into consideration was the fact that it was almost impossible to avoid Ethan without acting strange. You both practically spend your entire days glued to each… and now what ? Ethan would have to live without knowing what he did wrong ? The poor boy took the entire morning searching in his mind what he possibly could have done wrong, his puppy eyes looking at you from afar as he seemed completely lost while talking about it with Chad.

« Do you think that I’ve made her mad or sad ? It wasn’t my attention…maybe she didn’t get a good grade with my advice for the math exercises. And it’s true that I was a bit late to pick her up this morning to accompany her to school but still… », Ethan pouts a bit while his legs don't stop moving and his right foot taps on the ground due to the anxiety of not finding his fault in all of this.

Chad just can’t hold his laugh any longer at the sight of his poor friend breaking his mind over you.

« Man, you do realize that you’re better to her than any guy she knew in her entire life, right ? »

Ethan is dumbfounded as he looks at his friend like he hasn’t done anything particular, « I mean, I just want her to be happy and to protect her, that’s all. »

Chad smiles at the pure innocence of Ethan, « Well, I think that’s enough for her to fall in love with a cute guy like you. »

Ethan’s eyes grow even wider at the realization of what Chad just said. Ethan’s voice grows pitched as he talks faster in excitement.

« What ?? She likes me ?? Since when did you know that ?? Did she tell you ?? And are you sure about that ?? Becau— », Chad cuts Ethan’s rambling before he wouldn’t be able to calm him down.

« Hey hey hey, relax, everybody knows that since months ago, AT LEAST. »

Ethan looks at his feet in silence to register how blind he was to your signals, even though he doesn’t know you weren’t better than him on that matter, « Oh… »

Chad tries to cheer him up by poking his side lightly, « Tara told me that your girl was just as dense as you about your relationship, even though it’s clear as day that you both love each other. Come on…do you realize that you don’t go a day without seeing her at least every 2 hours ?? Talk to her about it, I’m sure it will be better for her and you. I don’t even know how you both are able to not jump on each other with how close you guys are. », Chad finishes with a chuckle and a sigh.

After talking with Chad, Ethan is now pretty motivated to find you and finally confess his feelings for you, and it doesn’t take long for him to spot you in the corridor as he successfully corners you against a wall.

You avoid his gaze with a blush as Ethan surprises you with a confidence that he rarely shows, as he firmly yet gently takes your wrist in his large hand to lead you in an empty classroom.

« We have to talk. »

Once inside, Ethan lets go of your wrist and you both stand in front of each other close enough that his fingers still brush against yours.

There’s a moment of silence before Ethan speaks first, his early confidence now starts to fade just a little when his eyes find yours and he starts fidgeting with his fingers to choose his words carefully.

« I-I know why you avoid me so much today and I wanted to tell you something. We’ve been friends for so long and I developed f-feelings that exceed this type of relation, that you perhaps, and I hope so, share as well… I don’t like it when we don’t talk or don’t see each other b-because… I really like you… I-I love you. », Ethan declares to you in such a soft and gentle voice as he opens up and declares his feelings for you.

You look at him with big soft eyes as you chew on your lips when your heart stomps against your chest so loudly that you fear that Ethan can hear it as well. With all the courage you can gather, your trembling hand searches for his to hold two of his fingers. Your voice is shaking but Ethan finds the honesty in it touching as he brightly smiles at you the way you adore.

« I love you as w-well Ethan, far more than you can imagine. »

Ethan’s free hand cups your cheek tenderly as if you could break as he asks you in a silent voice, with his eyes focused on your lips.

« Can I kiss you, please ? »

You nod at him instinctively as Ethan’s mouth presses against yours in a kiss that you desperately craved for god knows how long. The kiss is gentle at first, soft and experimental. Ethan caresses your cheekbones with a featherlight touch as you stand on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss that quickly turns eager with all the excitement and emotions shared between him and you. Ethan’s tongue licks at your lips to ask for entrance as you willingly give it to him without hesitation. Heavy kissing becomes making out when the sound of heavy breathing is shared between your lips that glisten with wet saliva, seeing how messy you’re passionately kissing each other, like you both desired it for too long. Ethan’s hand comes to softly caress your nipples, his touch warm as you moan against his mouth and pull slightly on his curly hair.

Out of breath, you both break the kiss as you look at each other with half-lidded eyes, your lips and his still connected with a thin string of saliva.

Ethan is the first to murmur against your swollen lips, « You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. »

You giggle against his lips out of happiness of hearing something you absolutely agree with, before being slightly startled by knocks on the door.

You look at each other dumbfounded before Ethan reassuringly intertwines his fingers with yours as you leave the classroom still a bit out of breath and with disheveled hair just from making out. Ethan and you awkwardly smile at Chad and Tara who are standing outside the door with knowing smiles at your looks and the way your free hand holds onto Ethan’s arm with a blush. Tara and Chad look at each other with a sigh, « What have we done ? »

Their eyes are back on you both now, teasing you sarcastically, « We don’t want to see you both sharing saliva every 5 minutes, got it ? »

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

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yandere-3-sagau · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! New anon here, idk if you do anything like this but i had an interesting thought the other day!

So yknow how you can name scaramouche right of course

So i named mine,,,,genuinely? Like i went out and looked up names (what can i say im down bad okay) and I found the name ‘Ena’ which means ‘gift from god’ (according to what i found-) or something like ‘blessed life’

So what if in a secret creator!sagau, the reader names him that and he dismisses it at first but then catches the reader having a look (sort of like a sad smile) every time they refer to him as that, so he finally asks what it means and they say its because they see him as being worthy of living. That they see him as a blessing from ‘the creator’ and they want him to see himself that way- (like not in a ‘more important than anyone else’ way, just in a ‘you exist therefore you deserve to live’ kinda way)

Idk if you like this but feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable! Tysm for your time!

hehehe do you know that wanderer is my favorite? Quite similarly to you, I took my time searching for a good name. I named him Aziz. It’s an Arabic name and I thought it was fitting since his new beginning began in Sumeru, a place based on the middle east. While Aziz means to be strong and powerful, it also means dear, darling, and precious. If SAGAU were to ever be real, I would want him to know that he is precious and loved. <33

since this ask is about secret creator!reader, i am going to assume that wanderer is still unaware of your identity when you mention the meaning of his name.

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret!Creator!Reader

The wanderer didn’t really care for names. He’s had so many throughout the years that he could care less how people addressed him.

So when the traveler gave him his name, he didn’t really think much of it. After all, it was a name given to him by his former enemy. What special meaning could it have? The traveler never explained it and he never thought to ask.

He kept the name for convenience but rarely ever used it. Many still referred to him as wanderer and he didn’t bother to correct them. There were times he had even forgotten that he had a new name.

The first time he actually ever cares about his name is the first time he hears it from you.

The name rolls so casually off your tongue it’s as if you’ve said it a thousand times. The soothing sound of your voice saying the name that belonged solely to him makes him feel so strange that he doesn’t even realize that he’s never told you his name before.

Though it sounds foreign at first, he quickly grows accustomed to being called his new name.

However, every time you call him that name, you have a certain look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite understand. You look at him as if he holds the world in his hands yet it’s accompanied by a sense of sadness.

Unbeknownst to him, every time you say his name, you’re reminded of his past. You think about how while erasing his previous names, he intended to erase his entire existence along with it and it breaks your heart.

Though he has trouble recognizing emotions, he can sense your sadness.

Finally, he caves into his curiosity and asks why you always have that look on your face. Why you look like you want to cry whenever that name is mentioned.

“... do you know what your name means?”

You gaze at him with such soft eyes that he almost forgets to answer.

“No, why?”

“Your name means ‘gift from god’ and ‘blessed life.’”

It takes some time to process, but after finally realizing what the meaning of his name is, the wanderer grows a bit angry.

Gift from god? Blessed life?

The traveler must be mocking him.

How can he be a gift from god when he was abandoned by his mother, the God of Eternity? and what part of his life is blessed when he’s committed countless sins and all he’s experienced is tragedy.

Wanderer remains silent but he can feel your gaze on him. Those eyes that to seem to see right though him.

—

Later on, he approaches the traveler.

“Why did you name me __?’“

The traveler pauses, surprised by the sudden question.

“I... don’t know, if I’m being honest.”

Wanderer scoffs. “How can you not know? Are you mocking me?”

“No, I really don’t know. Now that I think about it, it really is quite strange,” the traveler says as they recall the moment the wanderer was named.

“At the time, the name just slipped from my mouth.”

“It just slipped from your mouth? You don’t even know what it means?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve honestly never heard of the name before.”

Hearing this, the wanderer is a bit offended. It seems such little thought was put into his name. He thinks that maybe you were lying. He searched through many books in the Akademyia for the origin but he couldn’t find anything close to what you told him.

The next time you call his name, he stops you. He tells you stop using it. Saddened, you ask him why.

“It’s a meaningless name and whatever you claimed it means doesn’t even suit me.”

“What do you mean? I...whoever named you must see you as a gift. Your life is a blessing to them.”

“The person that named me doesn’t even know the meaning.”

You grow quiet upon hearing this. You can’t refute him, unable to explain to him that you were the person to name him.

You’re heartbroken that he thinks so little of himself. You want nothing more than to tell him that he really is a blessing. That he’s important to you and worthy of living. But you remain silent and he does as well.

He stops going by that name and decides to go by wanderer instead. He’s confused by your eyes that well up with unshed tears when he asks you call him wanderer instead of the name you had given him.

It isn’t until you are exposed that he understands.

You are the creator and it was you that bestowed the name upon him while you were living through the eyes of the traveler.

This revelation sparks so many questions.

Why did you name him that? Do you really see him as a blessing? Does he really mean that much to you?

His heart is hopeful but more and more anxiety fills his being the longer his thinks about it.

Are you upset that he stopped using his name? Do you think he isn’t proud of it?

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you decided to take it back. But even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you. Suddenly, it’s apart of who he is now - the basis of his identity. Anyone who calls him wanderer now is immediately corrected.

He wants to confront you but he hasn’t seen you since your identity was exposed. You’ve disappeared without a trace, leaving his heart empty.

Nothing but your voice can sooth his aching heart and he can’t rest until finds you.

Until he hears you call his name once more, now that he’s finally able to appreciate it’s meaning.

#yandere genshin #genshin impact #yandere sagau #yanderexreader #archons #kunikuzushi #wanderer #Scaramouche #yandere wanderer #yandere x reader #yandere #creator #creator reader #secret creator reader #secret creator #acolytes #genshin cult au #yandere genshin cult au #yandere scaramouche

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j-eryewrites · 11 months ago

Text

Stressed Out

MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 1.k <

Warnings: Not really any, kind of ooc Sherlock (but who cares)

Author's Note: Finally feeling like I have time to write and that the writing gods have been in my favor. This was a fun little one-shot to write. While I'm still trying to get back into my writing groove, this one shot definitely helped get some of the dust off my creative writing brain. So, thank you @my-dear-sweet-melody for requesting this one. I hope you enjoy it!

You weren’t sure how you’d been doing it: managing the day-to-day lives of two people who also happened to be good friends of yours, assisting Sherlock with cases, seeing things you’d never thought you’d see in your lifetime (both good and bad), juggling relationships, your own well-being and health, and time to relax. Although it seemed like you had less and less time to do the things concerning yourself. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but when you were thrust into the world of Sherlock Holmes, more important things came into play.

Sherlock was the first to notice how the stress was weighing on you. It was a total shock when he casually announced your current state to John. The moment the words of concern were uttered from Sherlock’s lips, the puzzle in John’s mind had been completed. With the help of Mrs. Hudson, the two men began to conspire to make life easier for their dear friend.

At first, Sherlock’s conscious decision to wash his dishes and put them away in the correct cabinets struck you as odd. Sherlock’s mind was usually too busy for such arbitrary tasks, and such magnificent brain power couldn’t be wasted on such a thing. Then came the tidiness of his experiments. You could swear you hadn’t seen a stray finger or eyeball dissolving in vinegar for quite some time.

When you had asked Sherlock about his new behavior, he shrugged it off with some wildly strange research idea he had come up with. You tried to follow along, but your brain began to hurt after a moment, so you opted to believe him instead.

Meanwhile, John took extra care to charge his and Sherlock’s devices. He knew no matter how brilliant Sherlock was, the man seemingly ceased to forget that computers, phones, and the lot needed to be charged via a charging cord and port. On the other hand, Mrs. Hudson made the note to prepare extra tea and biscuits to save yourself the trouble of doing that for Sherlock and John.

Now, you felt no need to question John and Mrs.Hudson’s new behavior. It was in character for them to do small things like that. However, you continued to question Sherlock; he grew tired of it. Why couldn’t you see that he cared for you, too? That maybe he cared a bit more for you than he should. He was growing weary of the excuses he made to your insistent questions when all he wanted to do was throw them up and tell you the truth. Truthfully, the truth was something he insisted upon. Sherlock always found it one way or another. Yet, he could only fib when you had a new query about his altered behavior. Was it hard for you to understand that Sherlock could care? That he, too, could be human?

“Sherlock,” you called as you sat on the couch, pouring over the current case. It was usually your job to organize each thing into its Sherlockian category to save Sherlock his brain power. However, when you opened the file, it had already been done. “Did I happen to organize this in my sleep?” You raised the file and peered at him. Sherlock felt his mind conjure up the latest lie. Just before it left his mouth, he paused. He got up and marched to the window, where he began to gaze out onto the street below. He couldn’t lie anymore. He had to tell you the truth.

“I organized it,” Sherlock said.

You froze. Something was seriously wrong with the man if he was now organizing his own cases. “Sherlock, you never orga–”

“Why can’t I?” Sherlock’s voice grew tense. His eyes clenched shut, all while his back was still towards you. He wouldn’t dare look at you. He knew if he saw your eyes, he’d crumble and tell you everything, but everything was what you needed to hear. Everything was what he needed to say.

“I never said you couldn’t. It’s just,” you faltered, “…strange.”

Within a moment, Sherlock whirled around. His icy blue eyes began to thaw under your gaze. “I observed you have stressed: Your trousers falling to your hips instead of hanging snuggly on your waist, the dark circles under your eyes that only grew prominent by the day, the growing urge to sleep instead of join Mrs. Hudson for the weekly watch party of the latest soap opera,” Sherlock shut his mouth. He had said too much already; he shouldn’t say more, but his lips moved again. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed, John and Mrs. Hudson, too. We devised a plan to lessen the blow of our–my constant mess.”

As Sherlock spoke, you realized his words were only the truth. You had noticed you suddenly had more time to eat a meal, spend time with your favorite landlady, who was more like a mother, go on walks in the park with John, listen to Sherlock compose his latest piece, sleep, and live life as it should be lived. Amidst Sherlock’s rambling, you whispered, “Why?”

“Because we–because I care you for,” Sherlock choked.

Slowly, you remove yourself from the comfort of the couch cushions and find a place in front of Sherlock. You watch as Sherlock shudders from the touch of your hand on his cheek. “Thank you,” you said as a smile grew. “Thank you for caring when I forgot to take care of myself. Although…”

Sherlock frowned.

“…while I appreciate the sentiment of you organizing your own cases, John charging the computers, and Mrs. Hudson always preparing tea, I’d still like to be able to do my job. After all, the great Sherlock Holmes still needs to use his brain power to solve cases and save the day.”

Sherlock could only smile at that response for he'd give you anything you'd ask. "Of course. Of course, Y/N."

____

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list! Please comment or reblog if you can; I want to hear from you.

Tag list:

@bartokthealbinobat

@astudyinlaura

@sherlockstrangewolf

@yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair

@biggerthancalli13

@themartiansdaughter

@sunsumonner

@silversword7000

@starlightaurorab

@my-dear-sweet-melody

@neroarrow83

@khaleesihavilliard

@agentxx92

@myszur-blog

@halestorm0707

_____

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eitaababe · 1 year ago

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EVEN IT'S A LIE !

epilogue.

[ a / n ; i finished! who would've thought. ]

series masterlist. | previous.

— two years later !

after having to deal with the baggage from ao'nung, the past couple of years had been nothing short of focusing on yourself. with the help of your friends, you were able to find yourself again, assuring yourself you'd never let a man dictate the way you felt about yourself ever again.

of course, avoiding ao'nung when you go to the same university is nearly impossible. you see each other in passing every few months or so, trying your best to limit any sort of contact with each other.

you'd grown closer with rotxo, with him being a better friend to you than you ever could have expected. it's strange, how well you're able to avoid ao'nung when your best friends with the two people closest to him.

still, the limited contact keeps the damage to a minimum.

because you'd be lying if you said you didn't think of him from time to time, the three words he claimed to be nothing but the truth. and how you were deceived into feeling the same.

but you're content, and over time you'd started to find yourself again. making it a weekly thing to just go out on your own, to your favorite cafe for some alone time.

so when you walk in, the last thing you expect to see is ao'nung's face behind the counter, an apron tied around his figure.

you feel your throat go dry when his eyes widen, and he tries to keep as professional as he can, clearing his throat before speaking up. "what can i get for you today?"

"uhm," you stutter, blinking multiple times before bringing yourself back to reality. it's more than a shock, seeing him in a place that was supposed to bring you peace, and now is making your head spin in such a way it makes you forget your usual order. "just a iced chai, please."

"you wanna take a muffin with that?"

you're surprised as the question slips out his mouth. you've always liked to pair your drink with some sort of muffin over the years, a small detail you definitely didn't expect him to remember.

"uh, yes please. how about a-"

"blueberry." he says quietly and in sync with you as he jots it down casually. you don't understand how he seems to be so nonchalant over this, like the interaction isn't so out of the blue for him.

you both stand there silently as he finishes up the order, and you pay, your eyes meeting after. and when they do, it's like you could fall into him all over again. his eyes are like the ocean, waves so dangerous yet you can't help but want to jump in. you have to pull your gaze away, breaking you both out the trance.

"look, i'm- i'm really sorry," he breathes out, and taking this as an opportunity as nobody else is in line behind you, and the cafe is experiencing its dead hour. "i know it was years ago, but i was an asshole. really. and i just- i've worked on myself, and i've had time to reflect, and i still can't believe i did what i did."

you smile at the sincerity of his voice, and you can do nothing but believe him. it's true, he's grown as a person in the past years and so have you. you can practically see how he's matured, carrying himself with a calm sense of confidence, different from the cockiness that once was.

"it's alright, really," you assure, nodding as you're finally able to hold a civil conversation after all this time. "i mean- we're both really different people now. we've grown, and learned, and it's water under the bridge, honestly. and i know it might not mean much," i chuckle. "but i was finally able to bring myself to forgive you."

"it's a lot," he admits, smiling back at you with a certain sweetness behind it. "it's everything. really." he assures, and this time, you're sure he means it.

after a few smiling moments you glance down, deciding to take a leap.

"would you like to join me? maybe for just a bit, i know you're working. but.. just as friends."

because despite what ao'nung did to you, there's always a soft spot for him in your heart. always a part of you that will know him, no matter how much he changes. and maybe you don't realize it either, but it's just the same for him.

his smile grows even wider at the invitation, and you can feel your heart swell at the sight.

"i'd love to."

[🏷️ ; taglist. / closed ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @halibanana @teyums @lightskinloak @ipoopedmypants47 @aonungmybf @il0veheartz @chittakii @jjkclub @universal-s1ut @ilovejakesullysdick @calums-betch @izuoyarmin @yeosxxx @cl0esblogg @alwayswndr @iheartamajiki @jenniferdixon05207 @manumanulau @myh3artttt @sugarrush-blush @be3flow3r @cupidsl0ve

#[ — ⌛️; even if it's a lie ! ]#[ — 🌎 ; avatar ]#ao'nung avatar #avatar x reader #ao'nung smau #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung series #ao'nung #ao’nung fluff #aonung avatar #aonung x reader #aonung fluff #aonung angst #ao'nung angst #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung fluff #avatar angst #avatar smau

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cufff-it · 3 months ago

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À DEUX PAS

PART II : COMPLICITÉ

pairing: kylian mbappe x reader

summary: when Y/N moves to Bondy and meets her new neighbor Kylian, they become fast friends. But as they grow up side by side, their bond faces new challenges that could change everything.

A/N: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance, enjoy reading

Bondy, September 2012.

Y/N and Kylian have grown up a bit. At 14, they’re now in middle school, and starting a new year brings its own changes. For the first time in a while, they’re not in the same class. When Y/N heard the news, she felt a pang of disappointment. They were so used to seeing each other every day, sitting side by side in class, exchanging looks whenever the teacher said something funny. Now, they’d only see each other during breaks.

On the first day of school, they find each other in the courtyard with Lina, who’s still in Y/N’s class, and Amine, who’s now in Kylian’s.

“We’re definitely going to miss you,” Kylian says with a teasing grin. “But don’t worry, Y/N—I’ll visit you sometimes so you don’t forget about me.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, pretending to be unaffected. “As if I’m thinking about you all the time.” she says, but there’s a hint of a smile that gives her away. Honestly, the thought of him not being there feels strange.

The first few weeks of school pass quickly, and even though Y/N sees Kylian during breaks, adjusting to this change isn’t easy. Kylian, on the other hand, seems to be making new friends in his class, including a girl named Inès. Inès is friendly, always smiling, and she likes football as much as Kylian does. Y/N can’t help noticing that Kylian is spending more and more time with her, which stirs a hint of jealousy.

One day, while they’re hanging out after school, Y/N tries to bring it up without sounding too obvious.

“So… do you like your new class?” she asks casually.

Kylian nods, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “Yeah, it’s alright. There are some nice people, like Inès. She’s really funny and loves football too.”

Y/N feels a tiny pang of jealousy. She looks down, hiding her unease. “Oh… that’s nice,” she mumbles, though she’s more worried than she’d admit.

Kylian, always quick to pick up on things, notices her reaction and grins, unable to resist teasing her.

“Why do you look like that?” he asks, moving closer to look her in the eye. “Are you jealous or something?”

Y/N feels her cheeks grow warm and quickly looks away. “No way. Why would I be jealous?”

He laughs, clearly amused to see her blush. “Because I’m your best friend, maybe? Don’t worry, Y/N. Even if I talk to other people, you’re still my favorite person to annoy.”

She pretends to be offended. “Oh, what an honor.”

But deep down, hearing Kylian reassure her feels comforting. Even if she doesn’t say it out loud, knowing he values their friendship means the world to her.

One Saturday night, Y/N’s family hosts a small dinner with Kylian’s family. It’s a tradition that goes back to their childhood, since their families get along well and enjoy catching up over a good meal. At the table, their parents chat about school and Kylian’s football ambitions.

“So, Kylian, you’re still set on being a footballer?” Y/N’s dad asks with a grin.

Kylian nods. “Of course! It’s my dream.”

Y/N’s mom smiles. “And Y/N, are you interested in sports too?”

Y/N laughs. “Not really. I prefer quiet things.” She glances over at Kylian, who’s watching her with a mischievous look.

“You could be my coach, you know!” he teases. “That way, you’d always be around.”

Y/N shakes her head, laughing. “I’ll stick to cheering from the stands, thanks. But I’ll come to watch you play, I promise.”

Their parents exchange knowing smiles, recognizing how much the two mean to each other.

As the year goes on, Y/N keeps seeing Kylian spending time with Inès and his new friends. One day, as she walks through the school hallway, she sees Kylian and Inès talking, laughing at a joke he just made. He smiles at her in a way that Y/N usually sees directed at herself.

A bit troubled, Y/N wonders if their friendship is changing, if she’s slowly losing him. These thoughts linger for a few days, and she finds herself pulling away and avoiding him during break times.

Kylian, noticing her change in attitude, finally catches up with her after school. He waits for her by the school gate, arms crossed, a mix of worry and amusement in his smile.

“Are you avoiding me or something?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, trying to hide her awkwardness. “No… not at all.”

“Oh, really? Because I don’t see you as much anymore.” He looks her in the eyes, waiting for an answer.

Under his steady gaze, Y/N finally lets her guard down. “It’s just that… I see you spending so much time with Inès and everyone else. I feel like… I’m not really part of your life in the same way anymore.”

Kylian looks at her, surprised, before giving a soft smile. “Y/N, are you serious? You’re really jealous, huh.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand, his grin teasing but warm. “Listen, yeah, Inès is cool. But she’s not you. You’re my friend, and you know me better than anyone.”

He pauses, then leans in and adds in a whisper, “And besides, I don’t tease her as much as I do you, because she doesn’t blush like you do.”

Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer and looks away, mumbling, “Stop making fun of me…”

Kylian laughs, clearly satisfied. “Relax, I promise. Even if we’re in different classes, even if I talk to other people, you’ll always be my closest friend.”

They share a long look, a quiet understanding between them, and Y/N finally feels her jealousy fade. She realizes that no matter what changes, their friendship is stronger than that.

That evening, Y/N heads home with a lighter heart, reassured by Kylian’s words. She knows now that, though there may be times when they drift apart, they’ll always find a way back to each other. It’s the kind of silent promise they’ve shared for years, and she knows he’ll keep it.

#football #kylian mbappe #kylian x you #kylian angst #kylian fluff #kylian x reader #kylian smut #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #slow burn #fanfic #kylian imagine

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bitethedustfools · 11 months ago

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TWST Story Idea (11)

Yuu= He/Him cuz its people pov

The coffin did not contain a single person but instead two people, stuffed in together uncomfortably: a boy and a girl whose appearances mirrored each other as expected of twins.

Crowley did not know this when he first declared Grim and one of the twins to be two in one package students because one wandered off when this happened. Once united, the twins realized that if they admitted there was a third person, it would either be the other twin or Grim, who might not be able to go to NRC.

They had made the decision to fool everyone that there were only two beings instead of three living in the ramshackle dorm, just so that no one could separate them.

The twins became one person, exchanging places every day and making sure they detailed their day down to the specifics in case someone asked them.

Since they had different genders and personalities, naturally, their behavior didn't match up, so they tried to create another persona mixing some of their characteristics instead of creating a new one, which would be hard to play the role.

The way they moved was easy to mimic because they were twins who had done everything together, but sometimes it was easy to forget who they were supposed to be, leading to the image falling apart. So, the persona must have a certain gait made from a mix of them.

The same goes for the rest of their characteristics. They took the differences between them and mixed them into one. The soft-spoken girl and the hot-tempered boy became a person who was well-mannered but wouldn't be afraid to retaliate. The brain and the brawn combined to be a competent person.

This person was Yuu, a persona which the twins must become so that their secrets are safe.

It was hard to maintain this persona, but the twins got to rest some days when it wasn't their turn, and the paperwork dropped by Crowley was done much faster with two people. In addition, one could even go to school while the other did some errands outside of school. This meant easy money stockpile, although it dwindled slightly since there were three living beings now.

They were certain that their secret was safe, even though some had cast suspicious looks at them, but no one had ever spoken out loud about it, so that was fine.

However, being seen as something not entirely human did not crossed their minds.

Everyone thought Yuu was strange. Almost all who paid more attention would notice that there was something wrong with him.

Yuu's voice couldn't stay the same tone. It changed frequently and subtly. It would be low and high-pitched, like a normal male voice trying to sound a bit like a woman, and another would resemble a young boy trying to imitate a man's voice by deepening it.

They thought Yuu was messing with them or it was just his way of talking. Not that they fully believed it, but it was better to ignore things, you know?

Often, Yuu spoke politely, and then the next moment, he would send a glare or speak with a hardened tone to someone who managed to offend him in some way. People didn't really get scared at that, seeing as it was just a mild scolding.

Another day, he would do the same, but it was different. This one seemed forced when speaking softly, yet when he was mad, that's when it was the most genuine, and it scared most people.

Someone once caught Yuu looking at a mirror and practicing his expression.

The said person thought it was funny until Yuu said, "My facial muscles are too stiff. I can't get it right."

They all thought Yuu was similar to Floyd, but clearly, this was a different case.

And not to mention, Yuu's movements seemed calculated, as though he was scared of making a mistake. Sometimes they were too stiff, and other times there were too many sways or the steps were irregular, and so on. Some noticed that Yuu's eyes widened slightly before assuming a certain gait that the others had seen plenty of times.

"I almost forgot how to do this…" his murmurs could still be heard, and it made everyone break into cold sweats rapidly.

Some beastmen thought they smelled the scent of a female on Yuu, but the next day it was male. It was different every day, and sometimes it happened in a row. He confronted Yuu one day and was met with a blank face, and then a rather tight smile.

He did not get an answer, but the next few days, the scent of a male on Yuu continued, and Yuu's gaze bore into his soul with a vicious glare.

His mind had come to a conclusion that Yuu was not human.

Some say they witnessed Yuu's doppelganger in some random place before stumbling upon another Yuu, which frightened most people because Yuu denied having seen them, and he had an alibi with Grim.

Yuu's friends, the first-years, thought that Yuu and the ramshackle dorm were weird and creepy. Often, they would hear Yuu talking to himself or loud noises coming from a different room or sudden shuffling when they looked back.

Yuu had them all convinced to announce their presence before opening a room because of ghosts or something. Yuu would also cook plenty and then eat and leave one serving behind, telling them not to touch it.

Yuu would then leave the room and return after a couple of seconds to eat that one serving, much to everyone's confusion and surprise. After all, Yuu usually ate little, and sometimes the plate was full, but this time, there were two plates.

When asked, Yuu who devoured the food almost like a starving animal simply replied, "I'm hungry."

Seeing his everyday strange quirks, the meaning simply changed into something else.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst yuu #writing prompt #Yuu somehow got mistaken as not human #Them: What are you...?#Yuu *smile tight cuz confuse: Im a human?#Them: no youre not :(#When people mistaken you as a monster trying to pretend to be a human when youre actually trying hide your twin.#no gaslighting only misunderstanding #Yuu: Did you found out my secret?#Them: We know youre pretending to be a human.#Yuu: Hold up

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 day ago

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🎄 Strictly Research

Strictly Research: Visiting a strange place every night in your dreams, your questions are endless as you promptly forget about the dream when you wake up. That is, until you cross paths with a strange man more than willing to assist you in some research.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Morpheus x AFAB!Reader

Prompt: Anonymous Sex

Word Count: ~10.2k

You find yourself in a weird, but beautiful place. The air shimmers with a surreal quality, making every breath feel like inhaling a mystery. You're standing on the edge of a vast field of flowers that seem to whisper secrets as they sway in a non-existent breeze.

"Back again, I see," a voice murmurs from behind you. You turn and face a bird perched on a low branch of a gnarled tree. His beady eyes fixate on you with an uncanny awareness.

"Who are you?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. You are fairly certain you've never met a talking bird before.

"The names Matthew," the bird tells you before muttering underneath his breath, "for the thousandth time." You feel a sense of déjà vu as Matthew's eyes bore into yours, but shrug it off.

"Matthew? And where exactly am I?" you ask, scanning the horizon for any familiar landmarks.

Matthew flaps his wings, settling more comfortably on the branch. "You're in the Dreaming, kid. Place where dreams and nightmares come to life. It's kinda my beat."

You glance around, taking in the fantastical landscape. "So, this isn't real?"

"It's real enough," Matthew caws. "But don't worry about it too much. Dreaming's got its own rules."

"Why am I here?" you press, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

"Cause you're asleep," Matthew replies, a bit of a 'duh' tone in his voice.

You blink, trying to process what Matthew has just said. "Asleep? But I don't remember going to bed."

Matthew hops from the branch, flapping his wings until he lands on the ground before you. "Most don't, but I wouldn't worry about it… so, what do ya wanna see first this time?"

This time? Again, you have no recollection of ever being a place like this, but you shrug, your mind was filling with questions and you wanted answers.

Your curiosity bubbles over, and you start peppering Matthew with questions. "So, what exactly is the Dreaming? Is it like a different dimension or something? Are there other creatures here besides you? Can people get hurt in their dreams? How do you even know I'm asleep? Do you talk to everyone who comes here?"

Matthew ruffles his feathers, seemingly overwhelmed by the barrage. "Slow down, kid. One question at a time."

"But there's just so much to know!" you exclaim, barely able to contain your excitement. "Like, what kind of creatures live here? And why can you talk? Are there other talking animals? Oh my god will I be able to talk to fish!?"

The raven hops closer, his beady eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. You are like this every damn time you visited. "The Dreaming's got all sorts of beings—dreams, nightmares, gods, myths, you name it. Some are friendly; others... not so much."

"Gods and myths?" Your eyes widen in astonishment. "So like... Greek gods? Norse gods? Pagan gods? Are they all here?"

"Yeah, yeah, those types and more," Matthew replies with a dismissive flap of his wings. "As for why I can talk—well, that's just part of the gig."

You lean in closer, fascinated. "And do you always look like a raven? Or can you change form? I know some species of birds can talk but your pronunciation is awesome! But birds don't have vocal chords…"

Matthew seems to sigh, though you’re not quite sure how a raven manages such an expression. "Always with the questions. Look, kid, I'm here to help you navigate the Dreaming, not give you a biology lesson on birds."

"Right, sorry," you mutter, trying to rein in your excitement. "So, where to first?"

The raven tilts his head as if considering your request. "Well, there's Dream's castle at the heart of the Dreaming. It's got this eerie beauty that you'll never forget."

"Dream's castle?" you ask, curiosity piqued once again. "Who's Dream?"

Matthew flaps his wings and takes off, hovering just above your head. "Dream of the Endless, also known as the boss. He's the king around here."

You watch him circle above you before he starts flying in a particular direction. "Come on," he calls back to you. "Follow me if you wanna see something cool." Matthew knows you geek out over the village full of dreams, nightmares and denizens every time you see them.

You follow Matthew as he flies low, leading you through a winding path that twists and turns, each step feeling like an adventure. The scenery changes fluidly—trees morph into towering spires of crystal, streams turn into glowing ribbons of light. It’s like walking through a living painting.

“Here we are,” Matthew announces, landing on a cobblestone street that appears out of nowhere. You look up and see a village bustling with activity.

Your eyes widen in amazement as you take in the sight. Beings of all shapes and sizes go about their day—some human-like, others so fantastical you can't even describe them. A creature with the body of a lion and the wings of an eagle carries a basket of what looks like glowing fruits. A woman with hair made of flames chats with a small, translucent figure who seems to be made entirely of water.

“Oh my god! This is incredible!” you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement.

“Every night,” Matthew mutters under his breath but you don’t hear him.

“Look at that guy!” you point at a being who seems to be a walking cloud. “Is he made of mist? How does that even work?”

The cloud-being turns and waves at you, accustomed to your nightly enthusiasm and questions. “Good evening! Yes, I’m composed mostly of vapor.”

“And you?” You rush over to a tall figure with eyes that glow like embers. “What are you?”

The figure chuckles warmly. “I am Ignis, a dream forged from fire. It's nice to see you again.” Ignis chuckles at the brief confusion in your eyes before excitement overshadows it.

“Wow! That’s amazing! Do you ever get cold? How do you stay warm?” Your questions spill out in rapid succession.

Ignis smiles kindly. “In the Dreaming, we don’t worry about such things.”

You dart over to another creature—a tiny being with wings that sparkle like diamonds. “And you? Are you a fairy? Do you grant wishes?”

The fairy giggles, her voice like tinkling bells. “Something like that. We help shape pleasant dreams.”

Matthew flaps his wings and lands on your shoulder. “See? Same questions every night,” he says, but there's an affectionate note in his voice. "I am surprised none of you have gone bat shit crazy yet…"

"That's because the mortal is too adorably excited about our home," A dream grunts from where he is washing the front of his shop.

You barely register his words as you continue to marvel at the village around you. "This place is just... unbelievable!"

A tall man with horns and eyes like molten gold passes by, giving you a nod. "Welcome back," he says with a knowing smile.

"Thank you!" You beam at him before a puzzled look crosses your face. "How do I know you?"

The tall man with molten gold eyes chuckles softly at your puzzled expression. "Never mind that," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "There's much more to see at the palace."

Matthew, still perched on your shoulder, gives you a gentle peck to get your attention. "He's right. We've only scratched the surface. The boss's palace is where the real magic happens."

You nod, eyes wide with anticipation. "Okay, let's go!"

As you follow Matthew through the village, you can't help but marvel at the vibrant life around you. The cobblestone streets are lined with shops selling everything from enchanted trinkets to bottles of captured starlight. Dreams and nightmares alike go about their business, some waving at you as you pass by and greeting you like an old friend. Much to your confusion but you smile and wave back.

Finally, you reach the edge of the village and find yourself standing before a grand gate guarded by a Gryphon, a Wyvern, and a Hippogryph. They stand imposingly, their eyes glowing with an ethereal light.

Matthew flutters off your shoulder and lands in front of them. "Hey guys, it's me. Let us through; we have an eager visitor here… again."

The Gryphon nods solemnly and steps aside, allowing the gate to swing open with a creak that echoes through the air.

You step through the gate and into a lush garden filled with flowers that bloom in impossible colors. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers and something else—something unnameable but intoxicating.

"Welcome to the boss's palace," Matthew announces as he takes to the air once more, leading you into the palace with statues that seem almost alive.

The walls are adorned with tapestries that seem to shift and change as you walk past them, depicting scenes from dreams and myths. Chandeliers made of glistening crystals hang from the ceiling, casting a soft, otherworldly light that makes everything look almost magical.

"This here is the Hall of Dreams," Matthew says, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "It's where some of the most significant dreams are kept."

You gaze around in awe, noticing pedestals displaying various objects—an ancient book glowing with a soft blue light, a crystal ball swirling with mist, a golden key that seems to hum with energy. Each item feels alive, as if it holds a story waiting to be told.

"Wow," you whisper, hardly able to tear your eyes away from the wonders around you.

"Yeah, it's pretty neat," Matthew replies nonchalantly, though there's a hint of pride in his voice. "But remember, don't touch anything unless you want the boss himself to appear outta nowhere."

As you're about to ask more questions, you hear a soft cough behind you. Turning around, you see a woman standing there with an air of calm authority.

"Matthew," she says, adjusting her circular glasses. "You are needed in the hall of mortal inventions."

Matthew flaps his wings and lets out what sounds like a resigned sigh. "Duty calls," he mutters before turning to you. "Listen, kid, I gotta go. If you need anything or have more questions, just find one of the palace staff. They'll help you out."

You nod, still absorbing everything around you. "Okay, thanks."

You watch them go for a moment before turning back to the Hall of Dreams. You have so many questions, but no one to answer them. Shrugging to yourself, you continue walking.

You wander through the grand halls of the palace, your footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. Each turn reveals new wonders—paintings that seem to breathe, corridors lined with statues that watch you with eyes that glint like stars. You feel a magnetic pull, drawing you toward a particular hallway.

As you turn the corner, you see him—a tall, thin man with pearl-white skin and black hair that contrasts starkly against the shimmering background. His blue eyes twinkle with stars, focused on his work as he appears to be redesigning a section of the palace. Walls morph and shift under his gaze, creating intricate patterns that seem to defy logic.

You can't contain your excitement. "Whoa! How are you doing that?" you exclaim, running up to him. "Where does all the matter go? Does it just disappear into thin air? Can you do this anywhere or only here? How do you decide what to change? Do you have to think really hard about it or does it just happen?"

Morpheus turns his star-filled eyes toward you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Calm yourself," he says softly, his voice like the whisper of leaves in a gentle breeze. "One question at a time."

You take a deep breath, trying to focus your thoughts. "Okay, okay. So... how do you change things like that?"

"In the Dreaming," he begins, "matter is not as rigid as it is in your waking world. It bends and flows according to my will."

"But where does it go?" you ask, your eyes wide with wonder.

"It doesn't go anywhere," Morpheus explains. "It transforms, takes on new shapes and forms."

"Wow," you breathe out. "Can anyone do this or just you?"

"Only those who understand the nature of dreams can manipulate them so freely," he says, his gaze returning to the shifting walls.

You watch in awe as intricate patterns continue to unfold before your eyes. "So, do you have to think really hard about what you're changing?"

"It requires focus and intent," Morpheus replies. "But for me, it is as natural as breathing."

You nod eagerly, absorbing every word. "Can I learn to do this? Or is it something you're born with?"

"It is not something one can simply learn," he says thoughtfully. "It is an intrinsic part of the realm."

Your lips pout and you mumble out about the unfairness of such a thing. Then a thought occurs to you, if you are here, there has to be others.

"Are there other dreamers here?" you ask, your curiosity still insatiable.

"Yes," Morpheus replies, his eyes glinting like distant stars. "Many dreamers wander these lands, each experiencing their own unique dreams and nightmares."

"So, they can't see each other?" you continue, your mind buzzing with questions. "Like, are we all in separate bubbles or something?"

"Precisely," Morpheus says. "Each dreamer exists within their own sphere of dreams, rarely intersecting with others unless I will it so."

As you ponder his words, a big question pops into your mind. You hesitate for a moment before blurting it out. "What happens when dreamers have sex in the realm?"

Morpheus' expression remains calm and unperturbed. "Sexual dreams are common among mortals," he begins, his voice as steady as ever. "In the Dreaming, such experiences can feel very real to the dreamer. The sensations and emotions are often heightened, reflecting the nature of dreams themselves."

"Matthew said that the Dreaming has a ruler, the creator or whatever," you say, your brow furrowing. "Does that mean he gets sucked into them as well? Matthew mentioned something about the Dreaming being a part of the boss or whatever…"

Morpheus blinks, the stars in his eyes dimming for a fraction of a second. "Yes," he says simply. Your eyes widen with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Then yet another question pops into your head.

"Wait! Have I had a sex dream!?" You gasp, your eyes round. "What is that even like? I mean if my mind is here what is happening to my physical body? Or it just like a mind fuck? Can you feel the same sensations in your dreams?"

There is a pregnant pause as you think and Morpheus tries to understand where all your endless questions constantly flow from. Your mind and dreams are nearly impossible to navigate. Your curiosity gets the better of you once again, and you find yourself asking yet another question.

"So, if someone has a sex dream in the Dreaming, does that mean the king experiences it too?" You blurt out, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. "I mean you said that he gets sucked into it, but does he like just stand there and watch?"

Morpheus regards you with an expression that's hard to read, his starry eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. "In a manner of speaking," he says, his voice as smooth as silk. "When dreamers experience such intense emotions and sensations, it resonates within the realm—and, by extension, it's creator and ruler."

"So basically every sex dream outside of masturbation is, by default, at least a threesome," you muse, tapping your lips with your fingers in deep concentration. Morpheus blinks at you in surprise, and then he too thinks about your words. You are technically correct. You stand there, absorbing everything, the wheels in your mind turning with even more questions. But before you can voice any of them, Morpheus's gaze locks onto yours, his star-filled eyes shimmering with a strange intensity.

"Would you like to find out?" he asks, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of something deeper.

You blink at him, your curiosity piqued once again. "Find out what?"

He steps closer, the air around him seeming to pulse with his presence. "What it is like to have an intimate dream involving copulation," he says, each word weighted with meaning.

Morpheus steps up to you, the space between you rippling with an electric tension. His hand reaches out, fingers cool against your skin as he cups your chin. The pads of his fingers are soft, tilting your head back so your eyes meet the endless expanse of his. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, a sensation that feels both foreign and familiar, as if you've been waiting for this moment in the deep recesses of your dreams.

His thumb traces the contour of your lips, a feather light touch that ignites a fire within you. The texture of his skin is like nothing you've ever felt—smooth as silk, yet with an undercurrent of raw power that courses through his veins. You part your lips slightly, tasting the essence of dreams on his flesh, a flavor that defies description, an intoxicating mix of starlight and shadows.

He leans in, his breath a whisper against your mouth as he speaks. "This is but a glimpse of the pleasures that can be found in the realm of dreams," he murmurs, his voice a melody that resonates deep within your body. Specifically, your cunt. Your thighs clench and you resist squeaking. Hot dream guy with a killer voice is asking you if you wanna sleep with him to find out what it is like to have dream sex? The answer is rather obvious despite your addled brain.

"Yes please," you whisper against his touch.

As you breathe out your assent, Morpheus' lips crash against yours in a searing kiss that sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. His kiss is all-consuming, a possessive claiming that leaves no doubt about his intentions. His tongue teases the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you yield to him, welcoming the intrusion with a soft moan of surrender.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an artist's touch. Each caress, each stroke of his fingers, ignites a trail of fire across your skin, making you squirm with need. He pulls you closer, your bodies aligning perfectly as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate duel that leaves you breathless.

He breaks away only to move to your neck, his lips tracing a path of devastation along your sensitive skin. He sucks and bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder, causing you to whimper with pleasure. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelmingly real, that it sends you spiraling into a world of ecstasy. Each nip, each suckle, sends waves of pleasure straight to your cunt, making you ache with a longing that is both primal and profound.

One of your hands finds itself in his hair, the strands silken against your skin. You tug at the black locks, pulling him closer, as your other hand claws at his back, desperate to feel the contours of his form. Your nails scrape along his scalp, eliciting a low growl of approval from him. The sound vibrates against your neck, adding to the symphony of sensations that threaten to overwhelm you.

Morpheus' hands move to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds his hips against yours. You can feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, a tangible reminder of the power he now holds over you in which sudden wicked dream.

Your breath hitches as Morpheus scoops you up into his arms with an ease that shocks you. The world blurs around you, the grandeur of the palace's halls melting away into a backdrop of liquid shadows and starlight. You're barely aware of the transition, your senses too overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

When the world solidifies once more, you find yourself in a bedroom that defies the laws of reality. The walls pulse with a soft, silver glow, and the ceiling is a canvas of twinkling stars that mirror the ones in Morpheus' eyes. A large, canopied bed awaits, its silken sheets shimmering with an iridescence that beckons you closer.

Morpheus sets you down gently, your feet sinking into the plush, velvety carpet. You're about to take in the splendor of your surroundings when his fingers tilt your chin up, capturing your attention once more. The moment your eyes met his once more your heart stutters from the swirling silver blue. The color is always shifting, flickering with stars that take your breath away. Yet another thought flickers into your mind.

"I don't know your name," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You may call me Morpheus," he replies, his voice a velvet caress that makes your body quiver. Morpheus, that fits him.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you towards him as his lips crash against yours once more. The kiss is fierce and demanding, a hungry claiming that leaves you trembling with need. His tongue invades your mouth, exploring and tasting with a fervor that makes your head spin.

You cling to him, your hands roaming over the firm planes of his back, tracing the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. The texture is unlike anything you've felt before—smooth yet resilient, like the surface of a dream.

One of Morpheus' hands move to the hem of your shirt, his fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of your abdomen. The touch is electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight up your spine. You arch into him, a silent plea for more, and he obliges, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of your clothing to cup your breast through your bra. You moan against the tongue curling with yours and lean into his touch.

Morpheus' lips move against yours with an urgency that takes your breath away. Each stroke of his tongue sends waves of heat coursing through your veins, setting your body alight with a desperate need. His kiss is a fervent claiming, a mingling of lips and breath and desire that leaves you dizzy and wanting. You can taste the stars on his tongue, an explosive taste that spins your mind up into a tizzy until you can only think about him.

His hand on your breast is a brand, his fingers kneading the soft flesh with a skill that leaves you gasping for air. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin exposed by your bra, each caress sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your clit. You can feel the hardened peak of your nipple straining against the fabric, a silent plea for more that he seems all too willing to answer.

The sound of tearing fabric fills the air. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in the sight of you. The cool air of the room kisses your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. His fingers trace the edge of your bra, a soft caress that mirrors the hunger in his gaze.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a low growl that curls around your body. His fingers deftly unhook the clasp of your bra, peeling the fabric away to reveal your breasts to his hungry gaze. The cool air hardens your nipples further, and you can't help but arch into his touch as he cups your breast once more.

His thumb circles your nipple, teasing the sensitive bud until you're whimpering with need. "Morpheus," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. He responds by pinching your nipple gently, the slight sting of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure to create a sensation that leaves you breathless.

Morpheus' lips recapture yours in a bruising kiss that sends your senses reeling. His tongue delves into the depths of your mouth, exploring with a hunger that leaves you breathless. The taste of him is intoxicating, an intoxicating mix of darkness and light that makes your head spin and your heart race. His kiss is a storm, wild and untamed, and you surrender yourself to its fury, kissing him back with a fervor that matches his own.

His hand continues its assault on your breast, fingers tweaking and rolling your nipple until it's a hard peak of arousal. The sensation is exquisite, a delicate balance of pleasure and pain that sends jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your body arching into his touch as you seek more of the delicious torment.

His fingers skim down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before dipping lower to the waistband of your pants. You twitch against him, your body a taut bowstring beneath his touch. His spindle-like fingers trace the curve of your pelvis bone with an artist's precision, each stroke of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure through you. It is nearly unbearable, the sensations he elicits from your body, a symphony of desire that threatens to overwhelm your senses. Your breath hitches in your throat, a breath that Morpheus gladly drinks from your lips, as you surrender to the exquisite torment, your hips canting forward in a silent plea for more.

Morpheus breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck as he trails a path of fire along your jawline. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, nipping and sucking as he marks you as his own. You moan and tilt your head back, granting him better access as you revel in the sensation of his mouth on your flesh.

"Morpheus," you gasp, your voice a mere whisper in the twinkling silence of his room. His name is a plea, a prayer, falling from your lips like sweet ambrosia.

Your breath catches yet again as Morpheus' fingers dance along the waistband of your trousers, his touch a whisper against your skin. His starry eyes lock onto yours, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. "Let me show you the wonders of dreams," he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress that brushes your skin with reverence.

Morpheus' starry gaze never even wavers from yours as his nimble fingers work at the clasp of your trousers, each movement a tantalizing dance. His touch is gentle as he guides the fabric down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your underwear—a flimsy barrier that seems to taunt the anticipation building between you two.

Your breath hitches as the cool air of the Dreaming kisses your newly bared skin. The vulnerability of the moment is intoxicating, getting naked in your own dream. He continues takes his time, his fingers skimming your thighs, the back of your knees, the curve of your calves, until you stand before Morpheus, practically trembling with need and curiosity.

Trickles of embarrassment try to worm their way through your veins, a flush of heat crawling up your neck. Morpheus' sees your embarrassment before you have the chance to physically express it yourself.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, the word a soft whisper that seems to echo through the vastness of the room. Well, your embarrassment most definitely grew, but not because you were naked, but because of the look in his eyes. His eyes rake over you, their silvery glow shimmering with stars. The desire in his gaze is palpable, a tangible force that wraps around you, drawing you closer to him. You can feel his physical desire for you.

He reaches out, his fingers tracing your lips to appreciate them, before drawing down a path of tingles that delights your senses. His touch seems to know exactly where all your most sensitive places on your body are. They glide over your shoulders, down the slope of your chest, tracing the contours of your breasts. You shiver under his touch, your nipples hardening even more, if that's possible, under his gaze.

Morpheus' fingers dance lower, skimming over your abdomen, causing your muscles to twitch and contract beneath his touch. Then he sinks to his knees before you, his softly glowing eyes never leaving yours. The sight of him kneeling at your feet is almost too much to bear. How did you have someone so beautiful kneeling before you? His hands settle on your hips, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumbs stroke the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your underwear, the last piece of clothing separating you from complete exposure.

Morpheus leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your stomach. His lips are cool and soft, a stark contrast to the growing inferno between your legs. He places another kiss, lower this time, just below your navel. You can't help but let out a soft whimper, your hands instinctively reaching out to tangle in his dark hair. Soft and silky. With agonizing slowness, Morpheus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. "May I?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, your breath hitching in anticipation. He smiles, a small, knowing smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. With deliberate care, he begins to slide your underwear down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin as he goes. The cool air of the Dreaming brushes against your exposed flesh, and you shiver. Morpheus' eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, completely bared to him.

Morpheus eyes are now glued to your body, and places a delicate kiss on your inner thigh. The touch of his lips sends a jolt of electricity straight to your cunt, causing you to gasp softly. His fingers dig gently into your hips, holding you steady as he begins his slow ascent towards your aching flesh.

His lips trail a path of fire along your skin, each kiss a promise of the pleasure to come. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your sensitive flesh, a tantalizing preview of what's to follow. He nuzzles the junction between your leg and folds, his nose brushing against your mound in a gentle caress that makes you shiver with anticipation. His tongue darts out and swipes at your flesh, making your hips jerk in his grasp while you whine in the back of your throat.

Morpheus looks up at you, his starry eyes filled with a hunger that takes your breath away. "You are exquisite," he murmurs, his voice a low growl that reverberates through your very being. "It is an honor to have the privilege of adoring your body." His words, combined with the adoration in his gaze, send a flush of heat coursing through your veins. You can feel your desire for him dripping between your legs, a slickness that begs for his attention.

With a reverence that borders on worship, Morpheus finally lowers his mouth to your cunt. His tongue darts out, tracing the length of your slit with a feather light touch that makes you whimper with need. He teases you, his tongue flicking over your clit before retreating along your inner folds, a maddening dance that leaves you trembling with frustration.

"Morpheus, please," you beg, your voice a desperate plea in the silence of the room. He responds with a low chuckle, the vibrations from his throat sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

"Patience, my dear," he chides gently, his breath ghosting over your wet folds. "Good things come to those who wait."

His words are a promise, a vow that he intends to make good on. He better. He delves into you with renewed vigor, his tongue delving into your cunt with long, languid strokes. He laps at you, tasting your arousal with a fervor that leaves you gasping for air and clawing at his scalp. His hands slide up your thighs, his fingers spreading your lips open to grant him better access to your most intimate places.

Morpheus' tongue circles your clit, each stroke sending waves of pleasure continually running down your thighs. You can feel the tension building within you, a coil of desire that threatens to snap at any moment. His fingers join in the exploration, slipping inside you with an ease that speaks of your desire. You can't help but squeal, tugging harshly on the strands of black, silky hair within your grasp.Pleased by your reaction, Morpheus curls his fingers forward, pressing against that secret spot within you that sends your senses reeling.

"Oh, god,” you moan, your hands fisting in his hair as you grind your hips against his face.

"I am no god," Morpheus growls, the sound vibrating against your clit and sending you spiraling towards the edge. You whine as your head drops back and you squirm against his mouth.

Your breath comes in short, desperate pants, the sound echoing in the room. His tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, each flick and swirl sending you spiraling closer to the edge of ecstasy. His fingers pump in and out of your cunt, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room and mingling with your soft whimpers and moans.

"Morpheus," you whine, your voice a mere whisper in the twinkling silence of his realm. His name is a plea, a prayer, falling from your lips like sweet ambrosia.

In response, he increases the pace of his ministrations, his tongue circling your clit with fierce determination. His fingers curl inside you, pressing against that sensitive spot that makes your feet rise off the cool, marble floor. The sensation is almost too much to bear, a delicious torment that threatens to consume you entirely.

Your legs begin to tremble, the muscles quivering with the effort of holding you upright. You can feel the tension coiling within you, a tight spring that threatens to snap at any moment. You want it to! Morpheus senses your impending release, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to push you over the edge.

With a final, desperate cry, you fall apart. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, the force of it making your legs give out beneath you. Stars explode behind your eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins, leaving you boneless and gasping for air.

Morpheus is there to catch you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he rises to his feet. Your body melts against his, your arms dangling over his shoulders, trembling from the force of your release. He cradles you against his chest, his touch gentle and soothing as he carries you across the room.

Morpheus gently places you on the bed, your body sinking into the plush, velvet covers. You look up at him with a dazed expression, your eyes still glazed over with the aftershocks of your orgasm. He hovers over you, his starry eyes filled with a hunger that seems to have grown rather than abated.

He cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in a soothing rhythm. He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that is both a claiming and a promise. His lips move against yours with a quiet urgency, coaxing your lips to part and grant him entry. You open for him, your lips parting with a soft moan as his tongue delves into the depths of your mouth.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, a taste that is both foreign and achingly familiar. It is a mingling of sweetness and heat, a flavor that is uniquely yours. The knowledge that he finds your taste as intoxicating as you find his sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your veins.

"Morpheus," you breathe against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper. He responds with a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against your own. His body shifts, his knees nudging your legs apart as he settles between your thighs.

As he kisses you, you become aware of a strange sensation. His clothes, which had seemed so form-fitting and solid only moments before, begin to disintegrate beneath your touch. The fabric turns to sand, swirling around him in a vortex of shadows before dissipating into nothingness. You pull away from the kiss, your eyes wide with wonder as you watch the transformation.

"That is so amazing," you whispered, your fingers reaching up to touch his bare chest. Morpheus gazes down at you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of this lips.

"That is only one aspect of the nature of my abilities" he murmurs, his voice a deep, seductive whisper that makes you moan. Certainly when his lips brush along the pulse of your neck. His body, now completely bare, is a sight to behold. He is all lean muscle and smooth, pale skin, a living embodiment of beauty and power.

You reach out to touch him, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen. His muscles contract beneath your touch, a silent testament to his desire for you. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the feeling of your hands on his body.

"You are so beautiful," you say, your voice filled with awe and raw desire. Morpheus opens his eyes, the stars within their depths shimmering with raw emotion.

"And you, my beloved dreamer, are the most captivating creature I have ever laid eyes on," he replies, his voice husky with desire. He leans down to kiss you once more, his body pressing against yours as he claims your lips in a passionate, all-consuming kiss. When you feel something hard, smoothing, throbbing, you nearly whine and buck your hips the moment your brain realizes it's his cock. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer as you kiss him with a fervor that leaves you eagerly breathless. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating, a sensation that ignites a fire within you.

Morpheus reaches between your legs, his fingers stroking your slick folds until you are writhing for his touch. You moan into his mouth, your hips arching off the bed as you seek more of his touch. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit before dipping lower to stroke your entrance. Your body now feels like it is on fire.

As the heat between you two grows, you can't help but beg. "Morpheus, please, I need you inside me," you whimper, your voice dripping with desperation. His fingers continue their relentless teasing, circling your clit before dipping back down to your entrance.

"Patience, little one," he chides gently, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through your body. "Good things come to those who wait."

"I can't wait any longer," you moan, your hips bucking against his hand in a silent plea for more. Morpheus chuckles softly, the sound a delicious torture against your sensitive skin.

"As you wish," he murmurs, his starry eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. He positions himself at your entrance, the broad head of his cock pressing against your slick folds. You hold your breath, your entire body tensing in anticipation of the moment he'll finally fill you.

But Morpheus doesn't just thrust into you. Instead, he enters you with a slow, deliberate precision that makes your head spin. You feel every bit of him as he slides into your tight, wet heat, his girth stretching you in the most exquisite way. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for air.

Morpheus stills once he's fully sheathed within you, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feel of him inside you. His forehead rests against yours, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps that mirror your own. You clench his cock in the most painfully exquisite way.

"You feel incredible," he whispers, his voice filled with awe and raw emotion. You respond by wrapping your other leg around his waist, pulling him even deeper inside you. A low growl rumbles in his chest, the sound vibrating through your body.

Morpheus begins to move, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward in a slow, languid rhythm. Each stroke is a study in controlled passion, his body worshiping yours thoroughly. His hands roam your body, tracing the contours of your curves with a reverence that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The feel of Morpheus inside you only grows more exquisite, each thrust a delicious friction that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. You cling to him, your fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as you writhe beneath him. His skin is cool and smooth under your touch, a stark contrast to the heat that radiates from your joined bodies.

He moves with a deliberate grace, his hips rocking against yours in a rhythm that matches each ebb of pleasure. With each thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delightful way. You can feel the head of his cock brushing against that secret spot within you, a sensation that makes your toes curl and your breath catch in your throat.

Your body responds to his with an eagerness that leaves you breathless. You meet each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room, a symphony of wet, slapping sounds.

"Morpheus," you gasp, your voice a mere whisper in the silence of his realm. His name is a plea, a prayer, falling from your lips like sweet ambrosia. He responds with a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against your own. His pace increases, his hips slamming into yours with an urgency that sends you spiraling towards the edge once more.

Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your heels digging into the firm muscles of his ass. You can feel the tension coiling within you, a tight spring that threatens to snap at any moment. Your fingers claw at his back, the motion leaving thin, red lines across his pale skin. A kiss of pain Morpheus finds he enjoys.

"Let go," Morpheus whispers in your ear, his voice raw with desire. "Give in to my passion."

His words are all the encouragement you need. With a loud cry, you finally reach your climax, your body shuddering and convulsing beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, each one more intense than the last. Morpheus' name falls from your lips like a mantra, a prayer to the god who has brought you to this exquisite peak.

Morpheus' mouth drops to your throat and he runs his teeth along your tender flesh. His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, his entire body tensing as he thrusts deep within you one final time. His cock buried deep within your body, you moan and whine as liquid pleasure fills you. You can feel his seed spilling into every part of your womb, a hot, wet rush that makes your thighs shake against him and your toes curl into the soft, velvet covers of his bed.

You gasp for oxygen, feeling like you are no longer in control of your body. Then his pelvis grinds against yours, his cock twitching with each spasm of pleasure that wracks his body. Shards of pleasure ricochet up your spine and spots bloom in your vision. Softly glowing silver eyes are the last thing you see before slipping into a deeper sleep.

You bolt upright in bed, the remnants of your dream still clinging to your skin like a lover's caress. The room is bathed in the soft glow of dawn, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting long shadows across the floor. Your heart pounds in your chest, the echo of your rapid pulse reverberating in your ears as you try to catch your breath.

The sheets are a tangled mess around your waist, the fabric twisted and damp from the heat of your body. You can still feel the ghostly sensation of strong arms wrapped around you, the phantom touch of calloused hands skimming over your bare skin. The warmth of his seed filling your body. The memory of his voice, low and husky with desire, sends a shiver down your spine.

"So that's what it's like to have a sex dream," you murmur to yourself, the words little more than a whisper in the stillness of your room. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, your cheeks flushed with the remnants of your dream-induced arousal. "Dude was brutally passionate and hot..."

You flop back onto the pillows, your mind replaying the vivid images from your dream. The way his eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, the feel of his body moving against yours in a dance as old as time. It had been so real, so intense, that you could almost believe it had actually happened.

Your hand drifts down to the hem of your shirt, your fingers skimming over the sensitive skin of your stomach. A small gasp escapes your lips as you recall the way he had touched you, his fingers exploring your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. You can't help but wonder if anyone in the waking world could ever match the raw, unbridled passion of your dream lover.

The room around you slowly comes into focus, the hazy edges of your dream giving way to reality. You take a deep breath, the scent of your own arousal still lingering in the air. It's a potent reminder of the pleasure you had experienced in the dream realm, a pleasure that had been so vivid, so all-consuming, that it had left you breathless. How can you still feel such sensations when it had been a dream?

As you lie there, the events of your dream still fresh in your mind, you can't help but feel a sense of longing. The dream had been a fleeting escape from the mundane reality of your everyday life, a glimpse into a world where desire and passion reigned supreme. But now, as the morning light continues to spill into your room, you're left with the nagging question of whether you'll ever experience anything as intense in your waking life.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself one last moment of indulgence before the demands of the day pull you from the comfort of your bed. The memory of your dream lover's voice echoes in your mind, a soft whisper that sends a final shiver down your spine.

"Morpheus," you sigh, the sound little more than a breath of air. It seems almost cruel that such a being could exist in your dreams, yet remain just out of reach in the waking world. But for now, you're content to bask in the afterglow of your nocturnal encounter, the memory of his touch a sweet balm to the solitude of your morning.

With a reluctant sigh, you push back the covers and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. The cool air of your room brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of your dreams. As you rise to your feet, you can't help but glance back at the rumpled sheets, a small smile playing on your lips as you remember the passion that had unfolded in the realm of sleep.

You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you make your way to the bathroom. "Only in my dreams," you murmur, the words a wistful acknowledgment of the fantasy that had felt so real. But as you step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of sleep, you can't help but hold onto the hope that you'll see him again tonight.

You walk through the winding corridors of Dream's Palace, the walls shifting with each step, alive with the whispers of a thousand dreams. Beside you, a subject of the palace chatters away, their words a cascade of information that you're trying to absorb.

"So, the Dreaming can change form at will?" you ask, glancing at the flickering shadows on the walls.

"Exactly," they respond, nodding eagerly. "It's all a reflection of our lord's mood and intentions. Every corner, every room, every plant can transform depending on his desires."

You marvel at this revelation, your mind racing with questions. "And what about the denizens? Are they all like... people who fell asleep and never woke up?"

The subject shakes their head. "Not quite. Some are created by Dream himself. Others are born from the collective subconscious of humanity."

As you walk, the palace seems to breathe around you, its structure fluid and ever-changing. You turn a corner and see the grand entrance to the library ahead. The towering doors are carved with intricate patterns that seem to shift and change as you approach.

"And Lucienne," you ask, "what's her role here again?"

The subject smiles. "Lucienne is the chief librarian and guardian of all knowledge in the Dreaming. She keeps everything in order."

You push open the heavy doors to the library, stepping into a vast hall lined with endless rows of bookshelves that stretch up into infinity. The scent of old parchment and ink fills your nostrils.

In the center of the room stands Lucienne, her circular glasses perched on her nose as she sorts through a stack of ancient tomes. Perched nearby on a reading desk is Matthew, his dark feathers gleaming under the soft glow of lantern light.

"Oh, hi Matthew!" you call out cheerfully.

The raven's reaction is immediate and frantic. He startles, wings flapping rapidly, knocking over a few papers on the desk. His eyes are wide, and he screeches, "You remember!?"

You blink at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Uh, yes? Was I not supposed to?"

Matthew face palms with a wing, feathers rustling. "Oh, for crying out loud," he mutters to himself, voice filled with exasperation. "Of all the things to remember..."

You look at Lucienne, hoping for some clarity. She glances up from her stack of books, her expression calm and composed despite Matthew's antics.

"Lucienne," you begin, trying to divert the conversation to something less confusing, "what are your favorite books in the library?"

She adjusts her glasses thoughtfully. "There are so many to choose from," she says. "But if I had to pick, I would say I have a fondness for the ancient texts from lost civilizations. They hold so much history and mystery."

"Really?" You lean in closer, intrigued. "Any specific titles come to mind?"

Lucienne's eyes light up with enthusiasm. "One of my favorites is the 'Codex of Lumeria.' It's a beautifully illustrated manuscript from a civilization that vanished millennia ago."

You nod, absorbing her words. The library feels even more magical with each story she shares.

Matthew hops back onto his perch, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbles under his breath. "Books and mysteries... great distractions."

Lucienne gives him a knowing look but continues. "There's also 'The Chronicles of Faerie,' which details the history of various faerie courts across dimensions."

"Wow," you breathe out. The idea of such knowledge being within reach excites you. As Lucienne speaks, you notice Matthew seems calmer now, albeit still muttering to himself occasionally. Something about memory problems?

"Maybe you'll get a chance to read them someday," Lucienne adds with a gentle smile.

"That would be amazing," you reply with a glowing grin. You're about to ask Lucienne if you could take a peek at the 'Codex of Lumeria' when the air in the library shifts, becoming thicker. You feel a shiver run up your spine, making you quiver, shortly before he appears.

The moment you take in Morpheus striding confidently over to your little group, you have immediately flashbacks in your mind of the prior night. A night you spent beneath him. Heat crawls up your neck.

Lucienne, ever the attentive librarian, straightens up and pushes her glasses back up her nose. "Oh, do you require a book, my lord?" she inquires, her voice a perfect blend of respect and curiosity.

Morpheus spares her the briefest of glances before his gaze returns to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Not quite, Lucienne," he says, his voice a low, melodious hum that seems to resonate with the very walls of the library. Lucienne looks between her lord and you.

"Have you met Y/N, yet? They are a nightly visitor to our great halls," Lucienne explains before peering at your over her spectacles. "Y/N, this is Dream of the Endless, or Lord Morpheus as he is better known within our realm."

Holy fuck. You had literally asked the king of the dreaming what it was like to have sex in his realm. Then he proceeded to humor you with mind blowing dream sex.

You are never going to live this down.

The heat crawling up your neck now sears your cheeks as Matthew, now perched atop one of the towering bookshelves, cocks his head to the side, his beady eyes filled with curiosity. "Hold on, you two know each other?" he squawks, feathers ruffling in agitation. They way his boss and you were looking at each other made it painfully clear that you had met before… but didn't you always forget about the dreaming upon waking up?

You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat as you struggle to find the right way to explain the unexplainable. You clear your throat and chew on your lip. Morpheus, however, seems to find amusement in your discomfort, his smirk widening.

"Indeed, we do," he says, the amusement evident in his tone. "I've had the pleasure of assisting this one with some... research the night prior." His eyes gleam with mischief before they dip down to your, thankfully, still covered body.

Your cheeks burn as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Morpheus. His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Oh yes, he certainly helped you out with some research the prior night… Lucienne's eyebrows raise slightly, but she remains silent, ever the professional.

Matthew caws from his perch, his beady eyes narrowing. "Research, huh? Sounds... thorough."

"It was very informative!" You announce, trying to quell the heat in your cheeks. Morpheus' eyebrow raises and the stars in his eyes twinkle. He seems to savor your discomfort, as if it is a fine wine meant to be enjoyed sip by sip.

"I see you are still intrigued by the Dreaming," he says, his voice as smooth and dark as velvet. "Perhaps you would like some further assistance with your... research?"

Your pulse quickens. The memory of last night's dream flashes in your mind again, and you feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement. You can swear your cunt clenched on his last word.

Morpheus extends his hand towards you, the movement both elegant and commanding. "Take my hand," he offers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. "I shall show you more of what this realm has to offer."

You glance at Lucienne and Matthew, who are both watching the exchange with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion. But their presence fades into the background as Morpheus' eyes draw you in.

Without thinking, you reach out and place your hand in his. His touch is cool, yet it sends a jolt of warmth through your entire body.

"Good," Morpheus murmurs, his grip firm but gentle. "Come with me."

He leads you away from the library, through corridors that seem to shift and change with every step. The walls ripple like water, and doors appear and disappear as if by magic. You barely have time to take in the ever-changing scenery before he suddenly spins you around, pressing your back against a cool, solid surface.

His lips find yours in a fierce, passionate kiss that steals your breath away. You're caught off guard, but you can't deny the allure of the him, and you eagerly respond. His arms encircle you, pulling you closer as his kiss deepens. His tongue tangles with yours, once again indulging in your sweet taste but with such ferocity you whimper.

Morpheus devours that sound right up, lips tugging and pulling against yours until your mind is spinning. Then he pulls away, leaving you breathless. His eyes, twin stars, pierce through the dimness. He traces a thumb over your quivering bottom lip, the gesture both tender and possessive.

"Your curiosity about the Dreaming," he begins, eyes glowing soft silver. His forehead drops against yours and he raises his hand to your chin, his thumb pressing against your lower lip. "Is endless."

"Should I apologize?" you question breathlessly, already yearning for more.

Morpheus' eyes narrow slightly, and he lets out a low chuckle that reverberates through the space between you. "Absolutely not," he replies, his voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "Curiosity is to be encouraged, not stifled."

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours once more. The kiss is more urgent this time, as if he's trying to convey something words can't express. You melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his coat as if holding on for dear life.

You gasp as Morpheus deepens the kiss, his hands wandering, exploring the curve of your waist. The world around you seems to ripple, the walls and floor shifting with your shared desire. Your mind spins with the intensity of the moment, each touch igniting a fire within you that you didn't know existed.

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping your lips. His touch is both demanding and tender, a paradox that leaves you breathless and yearning for more.

"Morpheus," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above your skin. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of longing and determination. "Yes?"

"I want to see more of the Dreaming," you manage to say between ragged breaths. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Only after I have my fill of you, my dreamer,” he replies, his eyes glowing with possession.

You nod, breathless, unable to tear your eyes away from Morpheus. The desire in his gaze makes your heart race, and you feel a warmth spread through you as he leans in closer. His lips find yours again, and the world around you melts away into nothingness.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you through the shifting corridors. Your hands grip his shoulders as he navigates the halls of the palace with ease. You barely register the doors and arches that pass by, your mind consumed by the feeling of his touch.

Finally, he stops before a set of ornate double doors. With a wave of his hand, they swing open to reveal a grand chamber bathed in soft, golden light. The room is opulent, with high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes and a massive bed draped in luxurious fabrics.

Morpheus carries you inside and gently sets you down on the bed. His fingers brush against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "This," he says softly, "is where I will show you the true extent of what the Dreaming has to offer."

You can only nod in response, your breath coming in short gasps as anticipation grows within you. He removes his coat, revealing the sculpted lines of his body beneath. The sight leaves you entranced.

He climbs onto the bed beside you, his movements fluid and graceful. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring every curve with deliberate slowness. Each touch sends sparks of electricity through your body, making you arch into him.

His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slow and sensual. His tongue teases yours, drawing out soft moans that fill the room. You lose yourself in the sensation, forgetting everything except the feel of him against you.

Morpheus' hands roam lower, slipping beneath your clothing with practiced ease. You shiver at the cool touch of his fingers against your skin, feeling an ache build deep within you.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with reverence. The sincerity in his words makes your heart swell.

Your hands find their way to his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath his skin. He groans softly at your touch, his eyes darkening with desire.

As he continues to undress you slowly, every piece of clothing removed feels like shedding a layer of reality itself. The room around you seems to shift in response to your rising passion—the frescoes on the ceiling coming alive with scenes from dreams past.

When you're finally bare before him, Morpheus pauses to drink in the sight of you. His eyes glow like twin stars in the dim light as he lowers himself over you once more.

The world outside fades away completely as Morpheus begins to make love to you with a tenderness that leaves no doubt of his deep connection to every dream and desire you've ever had.

In that moment—between gasps for air and whispered names—you understand why people revere him so deeply within this realm: because Dream doesn't just rule over dreams; he embodies yours entirely. And damn if you are going to forget him anytime soon!

Date Published: 2/10/25

Last Edit: 2/10/25

Morpheus Masterlist

12 Days of Smutmas 2024 Masterlist

#dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #lord morpheus #dream the endless x reader #the sandman #morpheus #dream the endless

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teecupangel · 2 years ago

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So I recently found out that in AC: Brotherhood, Ezio can do a back flip if he jumps off a horse onto a beam. That said I screamed at my game “Since when can you do that!?” And can’t help but think of your ratatouille au

The Ratatouille AU where the ancestors can hear Desmond while ‘playing’ and its more unhinged cousin, the Ratatouille AU where Desmond can hear us.

This makes me remember how I played the majority of AC1 not knowing Altaïr can fucking vault.

Like the first time I accidentally did that, I was like “wait, what???” and I just spent like 10ish minutes (I think) trying to figure out how the hell I did that.

Soooo…

Have this, nonny?

“Ah, yes, yes. You would recover from those muscle aches in time.” The dottore noted as he looked over Ezio, nodding to himself as he added, “Yes, someone of your age must take care not to strain your muscles too much. Medicines will be ineffective, I’m afraid.”

Ezio looked at the sky with a deadpan expression on his face, ignoring how this was the second doctor to have talked about how medicine wouldn’t work for someone his ‘age’.

“Here. It will dull the pain and make you forget the ache.” The dottore gave Ezio the same medicine he always got and he drank it immediately. The dottore stared at him for a moment before handing him another bottle without saying anything about it, only continuing their ‘conversation’ as Ezio pocketed the medicine, “If I may ask, messere, what have you done for you to be in such a state?”

Ezio glanced at his horse who was standing pretty a few feet away from them then to the sky where Desmond is strangely quiet before turning to stare at the dottore to reply, “A friend of mine kept asking me to ‘do a backflip’.”

“Ah, and you cannot say no to this ‘friend’ of yours?”

Ezio’s deadpan stare seemed to move pass the dottore and straight to the Animus’ camera which he shouldn’t even know about as he said, “No.”

“... I see…”

“Desmond…”

There was a hint of resignation in the tone that Desmond ignored.

“Desmond…”

Resignation has been replaced by annoyance but Desmond ignored that as well.

“Desmond.”

Annoyance left his name, leaving nothing but a warning that Desmond ignored as well.

“Desmond.”

Finally, the growl that left Altaïr’s lips that bordered in growing anger was the note that finally forced Desmond to stop.

“I do not understand why you can’t figure out how to make me vault.” Altaïr commented as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “You managed to do it fifteen minutes ago.”

“I know!” Desmond exclaimed, the frustration clear in his own tone as he explained, “And I have no freaking idea how I did it! That’s why I’m trying out all the buttons!”

“Do we have to do this here?” Altaïr hissed.

“Yes! That box is the perfect height for you to vault!”

“Desmond…” Altaïr covered his face, ignoring the people shamelessly staring at them, “We’re in the middle of the village… in Masyaf.”

“Would you rather be in Acre or Damascus? With all those strangers???”

“Yes, I would actually prefer that. At least there, people won’t know it was me and remember it was me for years to come!” Altaïr argued as he glared at his shadow, a habit he had taken up on whenever he wished to glare at Desmond but knew he did not exist in the same plane as him. Glaring at the sky felt a bit… too much so he just glared at his shadow instead.

“So the rumors are true. You’ve finally lost it.”

Both Altaïr and Desmond sighed at the same time.

“You know…” Desmond paused for a moment before he suggested, “I don’t think Al Mualim would punish you any more than he already has if we beat the crap out of him?”

Altaïr thought about it for a moment before nodding in agreement, “If I get hit even once by Abbas, I will find a way to journey to your time and show you how I truly fight.”

“Hey, if you can take out the assholes keeping me here, I’ll spar with you all day.” Desmond agreed before adding, “But first…”

Altaïr jumped on the box once more and he hissed as the flush of his face deepened in embarrassment, “Desmond!”

“Sorry! I thought I got it this time!”

#please tell me i’m not the only one #who didn’t know altaïr could vault #until like midgame or endgame?#please?#other than that #usual tags!#i guess we should also tag this as #ratatouille animus au #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #ask and answer

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gamblingcaffeineaddict · 1 year ago

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A/N: ayyyy I’m back with part two of my previous fic i spend all my days trying to forget her face. Dialogue might get confusing, sorry 😭😭

she’s so hard to erase, i don’t think she can be replaced

warning for angst and a bittersweet ending. you die at the end. please read part 1 for context!

The moon bathed the alchemy commission in its silver light as the doctor sat alone on its worn down docks. Waves gently crashed onto the pillars supporting the harbor below. How did I even get here? They thought.

Their feet took them to the deserted commission after a heart wrenching encounter with a ghost of their past. Specifically speaking, a woman resembling someone long gone.

Jingliu… The doctor looked up into the starry sky to the full moon hanging above. Even centuries later, they felt a pang in their chest. I can’t help but think of you every time I gaze at a full moon like this.

The strange woman from earlier… even if it was Jingliu, she didn’t seem to recognize them. She spoke no words and her facial expression didn’t change. In fact, there was no sign of familiarity at all. She didn’t even chase after [Name] as they walked away hurriedly with tears threatening to fall from their eyes.

The doctor regrets that they never actually became close with Jingliu. At the time, keeping their distance seemed right and logical, but now the pain of loss has subsided. All that’s left is wistful regret and longing. If they had been closer, would Jingliu have remembered them? [Name] didn’t realize they were crying again until they felt warm tears slide down their cheeks.

A snap of a twig cuts the silence, causing [Name]’s head to whip around at the sudden sound. A Mara-struck soldier has creeped up behind them. Their blade was held above their head to make a fatal blow. Before the doctor could react, they heard the all too familiar whistling of a blade, and the monster was cut in two. The monster crumbled to dust, revealing a blindfolded woman with her sword in hand.

Speechless, [Name] sat there with their eyes wide and lips slightly agape. Of all the people to save them, it had to be her.

“…Jingliu.” They spoke softly. There was no denying it now, it had to be her. Why else would she be here saving them right now? Hope flared in [Name]’s chest that Jingliu could remember them, even if it was just the slightest bit. But their hopes were quickly crushed the moment she spoke.

“So you know who I am,” Jingliu responded in a monotone voice. She still gripped tightly onto her sword, a sign that she was still on her guard.

I guess that was to be expected. The doctor smiled sadly. After all, I am but a mere stranger to her.

“You could say that.” [Name] was half expecting Jingliu to hold her sword against their throat and demand answers, but instead she sheathes her sword and simply sits beside them on the dock a few inches away.

“It’s been centuries since I last set foot openly on the Luofu,” Jingliu says. “Most people do not remember me, or do not dare utter my name. You say it as if you knew me personally. You don’t shy away from the taboo surrounding me.”

The doctor lets out a dry laugh and looks into the distance. “Of course not. I did know you personally for a good few hundred years. Although we weren’t close, I know you aren’t as bad as people label you to be.”

Jingliu remains silent. [Name] feels her eyes linger on their melancholic expression through the black fabric over her gaze.

“When I bumped into you earlier, I felt a strange sadness tug at my heart.”

[Name] suddenly turns towards her. Sadness? So something might be left after all…

“Is there anything else you feel?” The doctor poked.

“…” Jingliu pauses briefly. “There is… regret, though I am not sure why.”

Regret? But what did she have to regret with me? It piqued the doctor’s interest even more. “Can you remember more? Anything at all? You shouldn’t have anything to regret with me.”

Now it’s Jingliu’s turn to let out a dry laugh. “How can you be so sure? You said so yourself that we weren’t close. How do you know I wasn’t hiding something from you?”

As she said those words, a memory flashed in her mind, hitting her like lightning.

The memory was overall blurry, but Jingliu knew where she was. She was transported to a warm day near the training grounds of the Cloud Knights. The sky is blue and cloudless, with the ocsssional starskiff sailing through the sky. The sun is warm and the breeze is gentle on her skin. She could immediately tell that this memory took place during a simpler time in her life.

Jingliu was resting under a tree, leisurely chatting away with someone beside her. Instinctively, she knew their name. [Name].

[Name] was happily chatting about something that happened earlier that day. Their smile was captivating to Jingliu. It warmed her heart and felt more radiant than the sun hanging high in the sky. Their laughter was melodic and made her chest flutter.

She felt at ease with [Name]. There was no “Sword Champion,” no “Master,” no “Transcendent Flash,” but simply “Jingliu.” With [Name], Jingliu could relax from her duties and breathe easy for a while; It felt different than when she was with the High Cloud Quintet.

A thought came to her on that warm day. It flashed in her mind for a mere second, but it made her realize something. Jingliu simply thought, “I wonder what it would be like to see their smile everyday for the rest of my life.” Then it clicked.

Am I…in love with [Name]?

The realization filled her with excitement. Her heart felt like it would burst with butterflies. But that also filled her with a dreadful uneasiness.

For once, her goals and desires clashed with each other. To grow stronger to rival the heavens, or to stay for her love on the Xianzhou? Her heart argued one side, and her rationality took the other.

Ultimately, Jingliu decided that this crush of hers cannot get in the way of her goal. She made up her mind to cast her silly feelings aside, but that didn’t stop her from longing for their affections every single day until she became mara-struck. Then… she forgot everything about [Name].

Ah.

No wonder she regrets.

Jingliu regrets even more now. She regrets forgetting [Name] entirely.

Jingliu clenched the side of her head in pain as the memory ended. She felt like she was suffocating under the tides of these old, forgotten emotions overwhelming her at once.

“Jingliu?! Are you okay?!” [Name] reached out their hand but stopped short of coming into contact with her. The same feelings that kept their distance from the swordswoman long ago made them hesitate.

When Jingliu’s breathing resumed to normal and her painful headache subsided, she looked up at [Name]. Because she recovered her memories, the Mara struck and her blindfold dissipated. [Name] could clearly see into her pained crimson eyes for the first time in centuries. Jingliu spoke in a quiet voice, “…how is it possible that we weren’t close?”

“We always kept our relationship professional.” [Name] averted Jingliu’s gaze, looking back to the calm moonlit sea in front of them.

“But… I remember talking with you. I remember falling in love with you.”

Time seemed to stop once again as those words fell from Jingliu’s lips. There was no way, absolutely no way, that all this time she liked [Name] back. No, she loved them back the same way they have for all these lonely years.

So all that pain [Name] shouldered out of thinking Jingliu wouldn’t ever spare a glance at them like that, was for naught? Maybe it was foolish of them to blot the idea out right away instead of even confessing first. [Name] could feel their heart starting to bleed from this old, self-inflicted wound they’ve made onto themselves.

But a part of what [Name] thought about Jingliu not prioritizing romance must be true, or else she would’ve confessed her feelings at some point.

“…I’m sorry that I claim to love you but have also forgotten you.”

Jingliu’s apology brings [Name] out of their thoughts. She wasn’t ever the person to coward away, so she looked straight into [Name]’s eyes. But vulnerability and sincere remorse was present in her voice. [Name] shook their head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I understand. After all, I kept my distance from you purposefully, because I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

Jingliu’s eyes widened. “The same way? Then you mean you loved me too?”

“Very much,” [Name] placed their hand on top of Jingliu’s. “I have loved you for all these years, even after you were long gone.”

“I think about you every night when I look at the moon. I think about you when I watch Jing Yuan train his apprentice, because I used to watch you train him in the same way. I think about you when I tend to patients who’ve hurt themselves in battle. I never forgot you for a moment.”

It feels like a stab to Jingliu’s heart to know that [Name] always thought of her. They both loved each other yet… she just forgot everything. It fills her with guilt. She also thinks that maybe she shouldn’t have simply wished for [Name] to make a move first.

“Our circumstances are very different now,” [Name] continued. “Even if we do love each other still, we can’t be together. I’m sure you know that too.”

“It won’t be long until I’m Mara-struck myself. I’ve been living for a long time now,” they smiled with sad acceptance. “It’s better for us if we both moved on.”

Silence. Jingliu knows in her heart that it’s the cruel truth. Truly, they were both scared of the consequences of their feelings, and they paid the price with guilt and years of painful longing.

“Before we say goodbye, allow me one last thing.”

Jingliu gently cupped [Name]’s cheek and pulled them for a soft, tender kiss. It felt as if all of her unspoken emotions were finally being shared after ages of being hidden away, tucked into the deepest corners of her heart. [Name] returned her sentiment by kissing her back with the same passion. They’ve waited all this time for such a simple, fleeting act.

They pulled away reluctantly, still feeling the warmth of each other’s lips. They stayed close in tranquil silence, basking in the last few moments they had with each other.

“Goodbye, my love.”

The Transcendent Flash was gone as swiftly as she came. There was no trace of her ever being there besides the relief in the heart of the doctor who now sat alone at the docks.

There wasn’t a need to really hold on much longer. The build up of memories started taking its toll on [Name], and now that their final wish has been fulfilled, they can rest.

It is said that the doctor lived out the rest of their years happy and light of burden. They succumbed to the Mara peacefully without losing the rest of their sanity to becoming a monster.

One day, they hope to reunite with their lover in the stars when her goal too, is fulfilled.

title is from “forget her” by girl in red.

#jingliu x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jingliu #angst #wrote this at 3am #again

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venice-1987 · 4 months ago

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TDPtober 2-love

Summary: Corvus reflects on what he loves

Pairings: Soren x Corvus (Of course its Sorvus, its me writing this :P)

There was much traced into the lines of his memory. The way the chill of autumn was drawn into the lungs, refreshing the body from the heat of summer. The way the leaves became dry and brittle underfoot, nourishing the earth for the coming spring. A home in the alleys of trees, off beaten paths and into the thickets, where the greenery sheltered him like a warm blanket.

He had dedicated himself to remember his parents, the home cooked meals from his father, carefully spooning the dish onto his empty plate. A mother, and her barely contained love in a crushing embrace, laughing as he tried to breathe and flailed, pretending to attempt an escape. He remembered their pride when he was recruited to be among Amaya’s scouts, and the same shine in their eyes when Soren had accepted him as a crownguard.

And Soren. It felt like if anything had made itself at home in his thoughts, it was him. Some things good. The way he leapt into hugging Corvus in the mushroom forest. Some things bad. The tired lines under his eyes after the return to a burned home. Some things terrible. The wailing sobs, inhuman screams tearing at his throat at the loss of a sister, not literally, but through change. She had become unrecognizable, and he grieved in privacy until Corvus had found him.

But nothing came close to everything Soren had done in love. It felt as if he tried to forget, that a core part of his mind would be lost, and he wouldn’t be the same, lobotomized and left changed. The laugher Soren always seemed to bring, the smile tugging at his lips when he looked eagerly to see if he had succeeded in bringing a little bit more joy into Corvus’s day. They way he had taken Corvus’s hand, correcting the positioning on the sword, helping him improve a little more. The way he took note of when Corvus was overwhelmed, and the gentle way he guided Corvus to safety. The way he was kind. The way he pushed Corvus to become better just by virtue of being good himself.

There was one day Corvus would never forget, that encapsulated everything he knew Soren to be. It was a bad day for the both of them. Corvus had taken the destruction of Katolis poorly, the home he had come to love had gone, which made him think of the homes and the people he had left behind. He realized that he had sunken into his solitude too readily, not writing like he should have. The resounding guilt multiplied the tension in his body with the sensory overload that the refugee camp had become that day. But there was ceaseless work to be done, and he ran himself ragged that despite it.

When he saw Soren around camp, he knew his captain was doing no good either. He wondered if this time, it was because of Viren’s haunting memory, or the lingering reminder of a once familiar Claudia in every broken stone, in every hidden pathway that was not collapsed and used in recovery missions. He had once led Corvus and Opeli and Barius and later the young king Ezran out of those passages. He wondered if, then, Soren had recognized that his family would never be the same as it once did.

Corvus had returned to their shared tent expecting Soren to be curled on his sleeping mat, wanting to be left in peace. He did not expect Soren to be there with a plate of peanut caramel pies, one of his favorite treats, and some strange looking curved stick with two wads of cotton on either end. He sat crossed legged, his shoulders hunched over in clear fatigue and his smile tired. But it reached his eyes. When he spoke, it carried the weight of the day in its softness.

“You looked stressed today,” he said. “I asked Barius to make these, and I made this. I call it a noise-stopper. You put it over your ears.” Soren held up his invention, waiting for permission. When Corvus nodded, he leaned forward, setting the cotton pads gently over Corvus’s ears. It did not stop the noise completely, but it provided a hefty shield against what made noise overwhelming in the first place. The texture felt nice on his skin, too, much like the sheep’s soft wool that made the clothes he wore.

Corvus did not know what to say, so he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Soren’s in a grateful kiss. At that point, their tentative relationship had not gone anywhere past hand holding, and looks that said ‘I’m starting to see you as something different. I’m sorry it took this tragedy to finally notice.’ He did not think the kiss would be rejected, and he was glad to see it returned with the same energy he put into it. Neither was surprised in the development, but it was nice to have confirmation. Their sleeping mats had been gradually drifting closer to each other every night for the past two weeks, and they finally closed the distance completely that day. Corvus’s head tucked into the crook of Soren’s neck as they fell asleep, both knowing they loved, and were loved.

#tdptober #the dragon prince #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga #soren tdp #sorvus #corvus tdp #I saw the prompt love and thought #“I need to make this about the gay people I've been rotating in my mind for the past two months”#so anyway heres the gay people #meant to be a short drabble and turned into longer drabble #after: love to the point of invention #this may be the only thing I write for tdptober but it was fun to do at least one thing

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trans-duckling · 15 days ago

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Learning Your Touch: Explorative Mouths

Hello~ I was going to post this final chapter last week, but I started to write the fics for the KakaGai's Valentine event of this year and I completely forgot xD Well, as I told you at the beginning, this chapter will be focus on oral sex! I am very surprised to see that you people are liking this fic ^^ I don't know if it is because you like to read smut or because it is actually well written xD

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The sun was setting in Konoha that afternoon, an orange light entering through the Hatake’s room where Gai and him were carelessly lying on his bed. They had all their clothes —except shoes and vests— still in place, but judging by the way their hands were moving, that would soon change.

As weeks passed, they had become more comfortable with sex, learning what brought pleasure to the other and even experimenting a bit. One day, his boyfriend even proposed changing positions, and so they tried. For Kakashi, it was a nice experience that made him feel in control, yet strange due to his inexperience being the one doing the penetration. Gai, however, had come out of it less happy than he had expected. He assured him it was not at all for his performance, but because in his mind the feeling of being penetrated would be different. At some point, he even admitted fearing there was something wrong with him, since his orgasm —even if good—, hadn’t seemed to reach the level of those the Hatake experienced when in his position. After a long talk about it, they had decided to go back to their previous roles, with which they both felt more comfortable, but not fully closing the door to reverse them from time to time.

Now, Kakashi finally found himself capable of bringing up something he had been thinking about for a bit. He had read —as well as been told both in the Academy and ANBU— that it was normal to experience curiosity around certain practices, and the easiest way to check if they were of his liking was by trying.

The problem was, in his case, asking. Gai and him might have become rather good at talking openly about sex, but that didn’t mean he felt completely comfortable with voicing his desires. Especially when it was something they hadn’t tried before.

“Wait” he said, holding by the wrist the hand that had found its way under his pants.

“Is there something wrong?” his boyfriend asked. “I thought you wanted…”

“No” the Hatake mumbled. “I mean… No, there is nothing wrong. And I do want you to continue, but… I have… a request. If that’s ok?”

“Oh, that sounds interesting, rival! What do you propose?”

Taking his hands off of him, Gai turned in bed to lay on his side, shiny black eyes looking straight at him. Kakashi could not avoid smiling.

“Well, I would like for you to… go down on me.”

He waited for a few seconds in which just silence filled the room. Then, just as the Hatake was about to add that they could forget about it, Gai answered.

“I don’t think I understand, rival. Is that… some kind of position you want to try?”

“No” he chuckled. “Well, in a way, yes, maybe. But I meant… oral sex.”

More silence.

“OH! So, you, uh… As in… Me, sucking you?” the other boy wondered, voice low and face red.

“Y-Yeah” he nodded, his embarrassment making him blush as well. “But only if you want, though. It’s completely fine if you refuse.”

Gai considered it for a minute with a pensive expression on his face.

“Well, my first impression would be that it doesn’t seem very… hygienic, but neither did having sex, I guess” his boyfriend reasoned, cheeks still bright. “I think… I think I would be open to try. Do you, um… Have experience with it, as well?”

The Hatake nodded slightly.

“Just a bit” he admitted. “And only being the one doing it, not… The other way. So I may not be able to guide you very well.”

“That’s alright, rival! I’m sure that by giving my best effort I’ll be able to please you.”

Kakashi could not hold himself. The ‘good guy’ pose while they were in bed was too much fun to contain a chuckle.

“Of course you will.”

He had wondered, for a while then, how oral sex would feel. When sleeping with other men, he had never been able to see their faces because he was always on his arms and legs. Only their groans and moans —among other disgusting sounds— were indicative of how good they were feeling. However, in his three times having to use his mouth to please them, he had been forced to look at their faces as they came apart. The act itself didn’t feel nice due to the brutality and the bruises it brought to him, but it was evident that for the others the pleasure was rather satisfying.

Now that he had Gai to safely try different things in bed without fear of getting hurt —not on purpose, at least—, Kakashi wanted to know how that felt. Although he would make sure to treat his boyfriend with the delicacy he deserved, of course, never forcing him to do more than he was comfortable with.

Gai brought him back to the present by kissing him softly, covering his body with his own and letting his hands travel down. The Hatake sighed in the kiss, humming happily as the other boy’s lips shifted from his mouth to his neck, sucking there for a bit. They moved slowly against each other, clothes gradually disappearing until they were just in their underwear.

By then, the previous experiences together allowed them to read each other easily, Gai licking and kissing his skin carefully from neck to the sensible spot under his belly button. He could not hold back moans and wines as his nipples got teased, furiously red and slightly bitten, no doubt in retaliation for how much Kakashi had played with Gai’s the last time.

Their movements had led them slowly to the edge of the mattress, until the Hatake was almost sitting at the border and his boyfriend on his knees in between his legs. He observed —mouth dry— at how Gai lingered over his underwear for a moment, lips just brushing over the bulge underneath it. His hot breath made him moan loudly, anticipation getting out the worst of him.

“Is it ok if I remove this, rival?” Gai asked with more confidence than he expected.

“Yes” he groaned, lifting his hips a bit. “Please.”

In one swift motion, the other boy rolled the underwear down and out, throwing it away. His hard member came into view red and with pre-cum covering the tip. The simple view of Gai’s mouth so close to it made him wine. A second later, a shy hand came up to circle him, brushing him softly to peel his foreskin completely down.

“Gai.”

“So… Do I… Ah, just put it in my mouth?” his boyfriend breathed.

“No” he embarrassingly moaned. “W-Wait a minute.”

He reached to the right, opening the drawer of his nightstand to take out a condom.

“Put it on, first” Kakashi indicated, offering the package to the other boy.

“Oh, I thought you may want to cum in my mouth?”

Another groan.

“If you keep it up like this, Gai, I’ll cum on your face before you can even start.”

Even if embarrassed and with a hand covering half of his face to hide it, he was able to discern how his boyfriend became a deep shade of red at his comment.

“Besides, it’s for protection” he continued. “I know we’re clean and exclusive if you don’t count… Well. But, just in case.”

“I-I understand, rival” Gai nodded, opening the condom and sliding it slowly down on his member. “Although I would like to have sex without any barrier one day, when we’re ready.”

Kakashi’s heart beat faster at the idea. Even if uncomfortable due to his erection, he bent forwards to kiss Gai.

“Yeah, one day” he said against the other’s lips.

“Great!” his boyfriend beamed once he incorporated again, one hand still resting over his member. “Now, how do I…?”

“I, um… I think it’s kind of like doing what you do with your hands but… With your mouth? If that makes sense.”

“Um… Maybe” Gai said with a pensive expression. “Can I try?”

“Y-Yeah, of course.”

Somehow, his boyfriend got this amazing idea of first burying his nose in his crotch, breathing in as if he was an ocean full of fresh air. He moaned, hands grabbing tightly at the sheets.

“I like how you smell, rival” Gai commented as his lips brushed the beginning of his member. “I thought it would be unpleasant, but it’s not.”

Kakashi had tasted several erections on his honey-pot missions and all of them had been disgusting, so he really didn’t understand what the other boy meant by that.

“It smells like sweat, and somehow salty” he continued, one hand tugging at him while his tongue ran up. “Is this good?”

“G-Good, yes” the Hatake breathed. “You can c-continue.”

For a few minutes, he just observed how Gai used his hands to tease his balls in the way he licked it at the same time as his mouth rolled up and down, just timidly sucking at the tip before starting again. It was madness. Especially because from his seated position he could see his boyfriend’s bangs falling over his face as his lips worked on him. It was not just the pleasure of sex that he was feeling, but also the one coming from the image in front of him.

“I’m… I’m gonna try sucking now” Gai announced.

Kakashi managed to get out an agreeing whine. However, part of his arousal left momentarily as the other boy circled the tip of his member with his mouth and sucked hard. He grunted, pulling back.

“W-Wait!” the Hatake said. “That… That was too much, Gai.”

“Oh, sorry, rival” his boyfriend apologized, liberating his erection.

“It’s ok, I… Um, I kind of liked it, but I didn’t expect it from the beginning… Maybe try softer? I—I think it’s more about slowly building up the orgasm more than… Doing it fast.”

“So, um… Contrary to what you like when I penetrate you?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

During their last encounters, they had come to know better what the other liked, thus discovering that, while Kakashi liked making love slowly sometimes, normally he preferred it hard but lovingly. A strange combination, sure, but that worked perfectly for a man like Gai, apparently. He was just lucky enough to have him.

If being honest, the Hatake had kind of expected to enjoy oral sex the same way, just as he had done for other men, who grabbed and tugged at his hair while moving quickly and enjoying loud and hard sucks. Apparently, his body thought otherwise.

“Ok, rival, I understand” Gai nodded, smiling at him with some saliva coming from the corner of his mouth. “Can I try again?”

“Yes. G-Go for it.”

This time, the suck was softer, more calm. It made him whine and his member twitch.

“B-Better. Way… Way better.”

Still with the erection in his mouth, Gai nodded and continued working his tongue around the tip, sometimes doing a thing that made him moan shamefully. Whatever it was, he wanted it more often.

At one point, his boyfriend looked up for feedback, and he could barely nod at the same time as he whined, the image of his member in between Gai’s lips and his big black eyes shining like that, too much for him. Still, even with such an overwhelming feeling, he felt something missing.

“Can you… Can you keep using your hands at the same time?”

His boyfriend nodded, the fingers holding his member going back to move up and down in perfect coordination with his mouth. Every time his hand slid down, his lips would suck around Kakashi’s erection, releasing him as the palm came up once again. That movement, together with the massaging of his balls, had him moaning and clawing at the sheets as his eyes closed in pleasure.

It took him some time to notice Gai was starting to go deeper, more and more of the Hatake’s member disappearing in his mouth as his cheeks became hollow to blow. The warmth around the sensible skin had him almost reaching his limit, body asking him to collaborate a bit in the dance. Kakashi was pretty sure he ripped part of the sheets as he pulled at them to contain the desire of grabbing Gai’s hair and just pull him down on him. To have himself completely buried in his mouth and throat.

Apparently, his self-control was less extended than he thought.

The room had filled with the moans leaving his mouth and the wet sounds of his boyfriend’s lips over him, saliva falling to the floor. At one point, the motion made Gai release a gurgling noise as he took a little more of his erection in. That was enough for Kakashi’s control to break.

His hips thrusted up at the same time as the other boy sucked, his member burying itself in Gai’s throat and making him gag. The instant pleasure almost made him cum, but the feeling quickly disappeared as his boyfriend released him and started to cough.

“S-Sorry!” he managed, bending down to hold the other boy’s face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Gai. Are you ok? Have I hurt you?”

Kakashi was supposed to be better than that. He didn’t want to be like those men that had used him. He had to maintain control at all times.

“I-It’s…” another cough. “It’s ok… Rival. I-I’m ok.”

The Hatake released his hold a bit so Gai could breathe easier, still looking at him with worry in his face.

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “We can stop. I shouldn’t have…”

“Kakashi” his boyfriend protested. “I’m fine, I promise. I just… Didn’t expect the motion. I think I’ll need more practice before taking you fully in. I will make a challenge out of it!”

He sounded strangely motivated, which managed to get a chuckle out of the Hatake.

“I, um… I would like to try now, if that’s ok.”

For a second, Kakashi was not sure of what he meant, until the tip of his member was brushed by Gai’s tongue and brought back to life.

Oh.

“Really?”

The other boy nodded, so he agreed while looking at him with an amazed expression. This time, he put all his focus on keeping himself steady, which was not easy as his boyfriend’s mouth engulfed him one more time. Gai gave it a couple of more tries, gagging on his erection before giving up and releasing it with a wet ‘plop’, making him groan. He didn’t succeed in his intentions, but his motion was efficient anyways, bringing Kakashi closer to the end.

“I’m… I’m sorry, rival. It seems that I’ll need more practice” he said still against his member.

“T-That’s ok” he nodded. “I’m close now, so, um…”

“Would you like to guide me?” Gai asked. “You can grab my hair and set the pace, just… Not too deep?”

He doubted for a moment, looking sideways instead of focusing on Gai. His erection was throbbing almost painfully, but he was scared of losing control again.

“Kakashi?” the voice of his boyfriend sounded like a plea, so he redirected his sight to him. “I trust you.”

The honesty in those words almost made him cum. Instead, he nodded softly and let one hand brush over Gai’s neck, tangling on the hair there. Slowly, the other boy opened his mouth to engulf him at the tip, lips softly around his member. Kakashi moved his hand slowly up until he had a good grab at his boyfriend’s hair. Then, he looked straight to his eyes and waited until he nodded before pushing him forwards, erection disappearing in his mouth. He pressed until the resistance of Gai’s throat was prominent, pulling out then. After another nod to confirm it was ok, he pushed one more time.

He moaned at the feeling.

The Hatake was capable of setting a pace that worked for him and Gai, not too fast but with enough rhythm to make him see the stars as a tongue played with his sensible skin and lips sucked the life out of him.

It was just so good.

He knew rather well he wouldn’t last long, but then Gai had this amazing —wonderful— idea of making a sound of his own, the tremor forcing a mix of groan and moan out of his mouth as he cum. His hips moved for a few seconds as his orgasm rolled down, careful to not push too much into his boyfriend as he came apart. When he finally gave up, releasing Gai’s hold and letting his upper body fall over the mattress, the electric shock was still running though him.

The other boy’s long breaths were easily audible, the pace they had set at the end probably a little too fast for him. Kakashi could feel Gai’s face resting against his thigh, and he managed to move a hand to pat his wet cheek.

“T-That was… Perfect” he praised. “Outstanding.”

“Really, rival?” his boyfriend panted. “You’re not lying?”

The Hatake chuckled, incorporating a bit over his free arm.

“Of course not, Gai” he laughed. “I would never lie about your incredible abilities in sex. I’m just sorry that you didn’t…”

His words became silent as his eyes settled down on the other boy’s crotch. There was an evident tension on the thong he was wearing, and not only due to his size.

“You’re… You’re hard?”

“Um, y-yeah?” Gai nodded, shifting a bit. “It that… a problem?”

“N-No! I’m just… Surprised” he admitted. “Whenever I had to… Well, I never enjoyed it, really, and certainly didn’t get excited for it, but I guess it depends on who you do it with…”

“O-Oh, I see… It’s just… Well, I like pleasing you, rival” his boyfriend mumbled, saliva still coming down from the corner of his lips. “And the sounds you make, together with your hold, I-I, um… I liked that.”

It made sense, the Hatake assumed. At the beginning, he had doubted being capable of truly enjoying penetration, not because he was forced to it, but because he didn’t really look forwards to it. It was plausible the same applied to oral sex.

“Good” he said, smiling a bit. “That’ll make it easier for me now.”

“W-What?” the other boy asked, almost babbling. “Do you mean..? But you don’t have to if you don’t like it, rival! I was surprised to find out it’s something I enjoy, but that doesn’t mean that I expect you to…”

“I want to try” the Hatake interrupted him. “Just once, at least. If that’s ok with you.”

“O-Of course.”

Slowly, they changed positions, helping each other until Gai was the one sitting on the mattress and Kakashi on his knees just in front of his crotch. He may have found himself in that same position with other men during missions, but that time it felt different. Nobody was grabbing at him and making him gag before he had the opportunity to take a breath, for starters.

He began by caring Gai’s erection up and down with his right hand, the foreskin already retracted and letting out his big and wet head. At the same time, he used the left hand to massage his balls in the way he knew his boyfriend became crazy for. There was some pre-cum coming from the tip of his member, and Kakashi brought his tongue out to lick it in one swift movement.

“R-Rival!” Gai moaned, moving his hips slightly back. “Shouldn’t we… u-use a condom?”

Oh. Right.

“Y-Yeah, sorry” he muttered, reaching for another package from his nightstand.

The Hatake rolled down the condom slowly over the hardness in front of him, the new pre-cum coming off it making the slide easier. Once settled, he gave it a hard lick from base to tip, managing to make Gai thrust his hips up to follow the movement. For the next part, he took a deep breath, moving his right hand to his boyfriend’s inner thigh for support while the other continued with his massage. Then, he engulfed him with his mouth and pushed down.

The feeling was not exactly pleasing, but the smell of Gai made it better. Using his tongue, he helped himself to swallow around the erection until it reached his throat. As expected, his gag reflex activated instantly and Kakashi had to make a conscious effort to subside it, giving it a couple of seconds before keep going. When his nose came in contact with the black curls of Gai’s crotch, he focused on swallowing again.

“K-KAKASHI!”

The Hatake was able to hold himself there for about seven seconds before having to retract his head, freeing the hard member and giving himself an opportunity to fill his lungs with air again.

“Did it… Did it feel… good?” he panted with a teasing smile.

There was a lot of saliva coming from the border of his lips, and he used his arm to remove it.

“It was… That felt… How did you do it?”

“Practice” he pointed out, fingers caring the erection in front of him. “Should I do it again?”

“I, um… Is that ok?” Gai wondered, one hand coming to cup his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The other boy’s fingers brushed away a tear falling from Kakashi’s normal eye. He hadn’t even realized it.

“Oh, this is not… Because of that” the Hatake assured. “It’s just the effort, Gai. I’m ok, I promise.”

His boyfriend observed him for a few moments, as if wanting to make sure he was not just saying that.

“O-Ok, then” he finally nodded. “But I don’t know if I’ll last much longer if you, um… Keep it up.”

Kakashi chuckled, feeling strangely proud of that.

“Not a challenge, so it doesn’t matter.”

He moved back to surround Gai’s member with his mouth, one hand pulling down at the other boy’s scrotum just to get a whine out of him. Then, he went back to deepthroat him. Kakashi was able to do it three more times before being left out panting, his boyfriend erection still not spilling completely.

“It appears you’re insatiable, rival” he mocked, knowing what that made to Gai.

Still, he didn’t cum.

“Would you like to hold me?” the Hatake proposed. “You could set up a rhythm that works for you.”

“I-I don’t know, rival… What if I push too hard or too fast?”

It was nice, to have his boyfriend considering that when the other men who had used him for the same purpose didn’t care at all about how he felt.

“I’m sure I could take it, but in any case I could pull out” he said, “or even pat on your leg with one of my hands to tell you to stop.”

That idea seemed to be a good one, Gai nodding with more conviction.

“So, I just… Grab your hair and pull down?”

“Yeah, but, maybe let me set the pace at the beginning? Until you get used to the movement, and then you can take control. How does that sound?”

“Perfect, rival.”

When Gai’s fingers curled around a handful of his hair, it was completely different from the other men that had taken his mouth. He was firm but gentler, as if he was about to brush Kakashi’s hair instead of pushing his mouth down his member.

Just as established, he was the one setting the rhythm initially, lips moving up and down the length in his mouth but without reaching the gagging point. His boyfriend’s arm followed the movement easily, the hair-pulling not causing him the same distress Kakashi had felt in the past.

After a couple of seconds, the Hatake closed his eyes. He was used to do that when sucking a target, even if it seemed risky, and for good reasons. First, it made the scene more real, which lowered the defense of the other person. Second, it made it easier for him to focus on his other senses, which were more useful for him in that situation. And third, it eliminated the possibility of having to look up to the other man while he did it. Gai, however, was not a target, and surely not a person he disliked to look at.

He opened his eyes again and glanced up. His boyfriend’s face was one of bliss, but still maintained the focus on Kakashi, their eyes interlocking the next second. The Hatake felt himself blushing, the stare of Gai and the image of himself in that position becoming too much for him. By then, the other boy had already taken up the task of marking the pace, hand moving slightly faster and with a stronger hold.

Kakashi relaxed his mouth and throat to make the slide easier, even if his boyfriend was careful enough to never make him gag.

“I’m… I’m c-close, rival” Gai panted. “C-Can I i-increase the rhythm?”

Eyes not leaving his boyfriend, the Hatake nodded as much as he could in his position and prepared for a faster pace. His saliva produced wet sounds that echoed in the room, mixing with Gai’s moans and whines as the pace of his hand complemented with the slight thrusts of his hips.

“A-AH! Ri-Rival!” a hard push, more than what Kakashi had expected, and his boyfriend was cumming. “AGH!”

He gagged as the last thrust made the erection brush the beginning of his throat, for a second the fear of his lunch coming up invading him. Luckily, Gai’s movements became softer after that, his gagging disappearing and the thrusting transforming into something more superficial, only the tip sliding in and out of the Hatake’s mouth. By the time he stopped moving, Kakashi was capable of seeing his release being held on the tip of the condom.

As his boyfriend let out a loud sigh and let himself fall on the mattress, he took out the rubber and made a knot to avoid a mess. Then, the Hatake got up on trembling legs due to the position he had been in, and sat on the bed as well, one elbow supporting his weight as he looked at Gai.

“Was it good?” he asked, his free hand removing the saliva dripping from his mouth.

“Incredible, rival!” the other boy happily breathed. “What you did with your throat… I can’t wait to feel it again another day.”

The Hatake just hummed lowly, eyes not meeting Gai’s.

“Kakashi?” his boyfriend called, a tired hand coming to rest on his cheek. “Is something wrong?”

That was a good question.

“I’m… not sure” he admitted, letting himself fall over the mattress as well and turning so they were face to face. “I didn’t mind doing it.”

“But..?”

“But… I don’t think it’s an activity I would enjoy doing much in the future” he said. “I’m not saying never again, just… Not as often?”

“Of course, rival! I wouldn’t like to engage in any practice that the both of us couldn’t enjoy” Gai firmly assured. “As good as it felt, I would be perfectly fine if you don’t want to repeat the experience at all.”

Just as happened the other times, those sweet words made Kakashi feel warm inside and he had to kiss his boyfriend to subside the feeling a bit.

“Thank you” he murmured. Then, his mouth opened again to try and explain himself. “It’s just… It felt too much like doing it with a mission’s target. Not because of you, but… It’s hard to put it into words. When we have sex in other ways it’s not the same sensation, while this… I don’t know.”

“It’s ok, Kakashi” Gai said, smiling softly at him and brushing his grey locks out of his face. “You don’t have to explain it.”

He nodded, rubbing his nose against his boyfriend’s palm.

Even if they had used condoms, there was still a certain level of mess in the room, from discarded clothes around to the rubbers full of cum on the ground or their sweaty bodies over the mattress. The Hatake would fight anybody who said that sex was not a workout itself.

The sun had been replaced by the moon in the sky, its light entering through the window together with that coming from the stars. Making an effort, Kakashi grabbed his boyfriend’s body and pushed until they were both further over the mattress, no limbs hanging from the border. Gai let him do, not complaining at all as he curled against his side, using the other boy’s chest as a pillow.

“We should take a shower and have some dinner, rival.”

He rubbed his face against the hard pectoral underneath his cheek, breathing in the smell of sweat, sex and Gai.

“Later” the Hatake yawned. “First, a nap.”

Gai’s chuckle made his face tremble, and he pinched his side so he would stop moving and let him sleep. As expected, his boyfriend easily complied, arms coming up to hug his body and pull him closer.

Over the last few months, their relationship had reached a whole new level, entering the world of sex and awkward conversations. The experience, however, had increased their trust in each other, improved their communication and, evidently, brought a good amount of pleasure into their lives. Kakashi hadn’t expected all of that, admittedly scared at the beginning of not being able to enjoy this face of his relationship with Gai. Now, he was rather relieved of have given it a chance.

The world was not perfect, with too many deaths on his shoulders and crappy missions ahead of him. But, as long as he was able to go back home and find Gai, whether it was for a challenge, or a make out session or a sex marathon, he would be fine.

As a shinobi, many people had nudged him into finding something that could root him to the present and make dealing with reality more bearable. Kakashi had Gai. Comradery. Friendship. Rivalry. And now, they were learning each other’s touch.

It was risky, the warm and heavy feeling growing in his chest as they spent more and more time together. Love was something that would undoubtedly bring suffering to both of them. But it would be stupid to call it any other way. Kakashi just hoped that, by maintaining it a secret, he could keep enjoying that feeling. And, with some luck, maybe grow up with Gai by his side.

#kakagai #gaikaka #hatake kakashi #maito gai #might guy #gay #naruto #fanfic #fist time #smut #they are teenagers #ao3

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