#once again I’m so sorry I know this is bad timing it FEELS bad but like…. it was now or never

[formulanni]

Daniel Ricciardo as Judgement:

The Judgement tarot card symbolizes the arrival of absolution and the culmination of a significant undertaking, often related to past and life lessons.

Judgement indicates the cusp of rebirth.

In order to achieve that, you must look back upon your deeds and come to an honest evaluation of yourself. This leads to the awakening that signals a new way of life.

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[froggiewrites]

Hello! I was wondering if i could request a Zoro or a Law x gn! or m!reader with angst? They are in a fight and reader kinda ignores them and hides from them and Zoro or Law realize how in love they are with the reader? Can end however you want!

Sorry I've been so slow on requests, writer's block hit me pretty hard this week! I chose Zoro with a gn!reader for this one, it just seemed to fit him pretty well (man is not good with his emotions). I hope you enjoy it!

A Bridge Too Far

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Zoro is terrible at handling his frustrations, and you're tired of being his punching bag. He doesn't realize what he's lost until it's gone. Warnings: Angst, Zoro being a bad boyfriend, not a happy but possibly a hopeful ending? Word Count: 2.3k

Like most of your arguments with Zoro, he started it.

He always starts it, even when he doesn’t want to. When his frustrations start to bubble, he can’t help but lash out at whoever’s closest, and that’s normally you. You’re always there, waiting for him, and you never hold it against him once he calms down. Frankly, they’re less arguments and more one-sided furious rants, as you never rise to the provocation. So he doesn’t think much of it when he snaps at you again after a particularly tough battle, one that left a buzzing under his skin and a strain in his muscles that he couldn’t shake. You wouldn’t mind. You never did.

A few minutes after you follow him to the training room, sitting quietly in the corner while he readies his swords, he finally snaps. “Will you just leave me alone for once? How am I supposed to relax with you trailing after me like this?”

You don’t just sit there and take it like you always do. You don’t just get up and leave, ready to come back when he’s calmer. You stare at him a moment, not radiating fury or indignation, simply…disappointment. Weariness. “Again?”

“What?” He snaps.

“We’re doing this again? Really?” You seem completely composed and calm. It infuriates him more than snapping ever could.

“What do you mean, doing this again? You following me around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, I guess we are.” He hits the target in front of him harder, sending splintering wood everywhere. The sound of it pierces his brain, rattling around, making him feel even worse.

You sigh, sounding horribly burdened and beaten down. “You know what? Sure. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone, Zoro, if that’s what you want. But this is the last time. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

He grits his teeth. “Won’t put up with this? Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Your eye twitches, finally a show of emotion, a show that he’s affecting you. “I’m not your punching bag, Zoro. I’m not here for you to use to work off your adrenaline instead of learning to deal with your emotions like an adult. I’m supposed to be someone you care about.” You finally stand, gathering your things and turning to leave. You don’t look back at him as you call, “You’re going to regret this, but I won’t.”

The door slamming echoes through the room, sounding horribly…final.

He ignores it.

It takes a few hours for him to finally wind down, for the buzzing to quiet and leave nothing but a blissful silence. He doesn’t bother cleaning up the wood all over the floor, or taking a shower to rid himself off all of the sweat. He has only one thought: his bed, warm and soft and welcoming. If he’s lucky, you’ll be in it, waiting for him to hold you close and kiss your face, the closest thing he’s ever given to an apology. He eagerly makes his way to the Sunny’s sleeping quarters, opening the door slowly to the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy and Franky, accompanied by Sanji, Chopper, and Usopp’s quiet breathing. Brook is still on deck, on watch for the night, so it makes sense his bunk is empty, but Zoro notices your bed is also suspiciously clear. Even your pillow and blanket are gone, the sheets not even wrinkled, as though no one had ever slept there at all.

A small part of him tells him he should check on you, make sure you’re alright. But a much larger, louder part is crying out for rest, and he cannot help but give in, falling face first onto his mattress without even changing clothes. He’s asleep within seconds.

He’s alone when he wakes up. He doesn’t typically sleep very long, instead napping in short bursts throughout the day, but he can see the light pouring in under the door and he realizes he must have slept at least until noon. He’s shivering, still on top of his blanket. Usually when he falls asleep like this, you throw one of the extras in your locker over him, tucking him in like a child. You must not have come back in at all last night.

He ignores the uncomfortable feeling nipping at him, something he will not name. You’re fine. You’re an adult, and one night away from your bed doesn’t mean anything.

But then you aren’t at lunch.

Sanji is giving him dirty looks, and Nami is giving him the most foul side-eye he’s ever had the displeasure of receiving. The rest of the crew are trying to act normal, but Franky is suspiciously absent and Usopp is so nervous he keeps dropping everything he tries to pick up, ending in him spilling water all over himself and taking the excuse to “take a second to go change” and never come back.

He finally breaks after Sanji brings Nami another drink, takes an obvious glance at him, and they start to whisper to each other. He makes out the words idiot, asshole, and loser (the first two from Nami and the latter from Sanji), before he slams his fork down. “What? What is it?”

Nami turns to him, filled with the sort of righteous fury she only saved for those who dare hurt her friends. “God, Zoro, you don’t even know? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re all acting weird as hell!”

Sanji jumps in. “Because you’re acting like a jerk and have the gall to pretend everything is normal, asshole! What the hell did you say to them yesterday?”

What he said to…oh. That feeling comes back again, and he furiously clamps down on it, replacing it with a significantly more comfortable and familiar indignance. “That’s none of your business, cook.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I think I deserve to know why I had to find them sleeping in the goddamn kitchen this morning, actually.”

In the kitchen? Of course. It’s the one place you knew he would never find you. He never went there other than mealtimes, avoiding the possibility of another stupid fight with Sanji when he wasn’t up for it. “How the hell should I know?”

“Are you still pretending you don’t know it’s your fault? They were bawling their eyes out after leaving the training room.” Nami’s even angrier than Sanji is, and Zoro genuinely thinks she might hit him. The smaller, more tender part of himself, the one he’s ignoring, wouldn’t even blame her.

But that part isn’t in charge today. “My relationship isn’t your goddamn business.”

“Relationship? You seriously think you still have one of those?”

His blood runs cold, but he forces the feeling away, standing up from the table and stalking off. “I don’t have to take this.”

Nami calls after him, “I hope they dump you!”

Sanji cries out soon after. “I hope you fall into the sea, asshole!”

Zoro could go look for you. Should, even. But he instead makes the trek to the crow’s nest, cherishing the quiet, the solitude, the safety of it.

But as he sits in what is usually his sanctuary, he begins to feel that itch beneath his skin. Quiet turns to unbearable silence, solitude turns to loneliness, safety turns to suffocation. He tries to close his eyes, to center himself, take control as he loves to do, but the moment he does he can see nothing but your face. He can almost feel your hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles while your voice gently shushes him. You were so good at that, calming him down right when he needed you. Giving him a patience he simply didn’t deserve.

A patience he had been taking for granted.

What would he do, if another man had made you cry? If someone else had raised their voice at you as he had, time and again?

Part of him tried to justify it. But I don’t mean it, some petulant part of himself cried. They know I don’t mean it.

But do you? And would it matter, anyway? He’s still shouting. You’re still taking it. How long can you perform the same song and dance before it stops being a performance?

He needs to apologize.

He just needs to find you first. You aren’t in the kitchen, though Sanji is, and he doesn’t even speak with him this time, just giving him a mean glare that would send a lesser man running. Zoro hates to admit he deserves it. You aren’t in your bed, and your things are still missing. Not in Chopper’s office. Not in the library. Not in the bathroom, though Robin is, and he has to take a moment to furiously apologize for not knocking while she laughs at him.

He can only think of a few more places to check when he remembers who was missing this morning.

Franky’s workshop is quieter than he’s ever heard it, only filled with the quiet clanking of a small hammer against an even smaller piece of metal. Franky is using his second set of hands to put together some clockwork trinket, a significantly more delicate project that he usually takes on. Zoro is confused only for a moment, then he sees you, eyes intensely watching, and he realizes what’s going on. Franky has taken you in today, chosen something simple and small to distract you, to allow you to participate in some way. He’s always been great at small comforts like this, allowing someone the peace of his presence without worrying about being a burden.

Zoro could learn a lot from him.

Franky clearly knows he’s there, shoulders tensing slightly, but he doesn’t speak, waiting for one of you to take the first step. You don’t seem to notice either, too enraptured by the small metal bird in Franky’s hands, a look of wonder on your face that makes Zoro’s heart skip despite himself.

“Hi.” He cringes the moment he speaks, the peace shattering instantly. Franky doesn’t turn to acknowledge him, but he can practically feel the wince that must be on his face from the lame opener. Your head shoots up like a frightened rabbit, every part of you tense and ready to run. You pull in on yourself, making yourself smaller, like if you’re lucky he might miss you entirely, move on to the next prey. He puts up his hands, the first and only act of surrender he has ever performed, before continuing. “Can we talk? In private?”

You look to Franky, and Zoro doesn’t know what the look you two exchange means, but it makes you get up and approach. You give him a wide berth, not even coming within a foot of him, but you nod at him briefly to indicate he should follow. However small of a gesture it is, you’ve finally acknowledged him. That’s something.

You lead him back down to the training room, still covered in splintered wood and reeking of sweat. He can’t help but notice you didn’t pick a neutral location. You lead him somewhere he feels safe.

You turn to him. “Talk.”

He hesitates a moment, trying not to trip over himself and somehow make this work, but he can see that he’s finally reached the end of your apparently not-quite-infinite patience. “I’m…sorry.” He says the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though they burn his mouth as they leave. He doesn’t like to apologize in words, but in action. In gentle hands, in small acts he could deny later. He doesn’t know why it embarrasses him, to admit he was wrong. He is pretty often. But something about it makes him feel so small, so weak. But he can be small and weak for you, right now. No matter how much it hurts.

Your eyes widen, and you take the smallest step backwards. Shocked by him admitting for once he’s at fault. “You’re…sorry?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at him, searching for some kind of trick, some hidden knife ready to plunge into your back. “For what?”

“For…for what? You know for what.” He winces at how defensive he sounds, at how you start to pull in on yourself again. “Sorry. Um. For yelling at you. For taking my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. For how I always do that. I…I don’t know why I snap at you. And it’s wrong.”

“Yes, it is.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It isn’t fair of you to keep doing this. I tried letting it slide, because I know you just don’t know how to handle your feelings, that you aren’t coming from a place of malice. But that doesn’t make it okay. And you never stopped.” You turn your back to him, approaching a nearby window, staring out at the sea.

“I’m going to stop now. I swear it.”

“I won’t be with someone who speaks to me like that. I deserve better. You know I deserve better.” You’re trying to play tough, but he can hear the shake in your voice, and he realizes that just like yesterday you’ve only turned around so he can’t see the tears on your lashes.

He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “You do. I swear I’ll treat you like you deserve. If I ever talk to you like that again, I’ll fall on my own sword.”

“...Swords.”

“Huh?”

“Swords. All three.”

He chuckles despite himself. “Alright. I’ll fall on all three at the same time.”

“Good. …You deserve it.”

“I know.” A silence hangs in the air. “I love you.”

You don’t answer.

You don’t hug him back, and you’re still sniffling, but you let him hold you. That has to be enough for now.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece (if you saw I forgot the taglist when I first posted this no you didn't)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: New at This

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Lloyd tugs in his ear lobe as you get up to take your empty bowl to the counter. The lone cashier smiles and gives a nervous look past you to the corner. You return to the table and wonder if he has a reputation here. You wouldn't be surprised with his behaviour. 

"Is your ear alright?" You ask as you take the cup of iced tea. 

"Huh?" He turns to you and drops his hand. "Yeah, hearing's f-- off. Just got back from a job and... the machinery was loud." 

"Hm, it could be a busted ear drum. I know someone who had that. He never could hear me but that coulda been the TV too," you shrug. 

"It's fine," he taps his fingers on the table as you stay standing. "So, you headed out?" 

"Yeah, I guess I should. Getting dark." 

"Right," he nods. "Well," he stands and tugs at the bottom of his shirt, shaking off the crumbs. "You need a ride?" 

He zips up his jacket, the collar ending just below his chin. You button up your blue houndstooth coat. "No, I can make it." 

"Wait, you're not walking are you?" He asks as he gathers up the wrapper and napkins. 

"Not too far if I cut behind the barbershop--" 

"Cut behind-- are you serious? You can't be walking down alleys in the dark. Trust me." 

"Oh?" You give him a curious look, "you hang out in dark alleyways a lot?" 

His brow tweaks and his lips twitch, "is that a joke?" 

"Not a very good one," you smile. "I always make it." 

"And this might be the time you don't. Least I can do. You bought me dinner, I feel like I owe you a ride." 

"You don't owe me anything," you assure him. 

"Huh, you're too nice, you know that? You could give a guy the wrong idea." l

"No, I don't think so," you sigh. "Being nice isn't anything but. I hope your enjoyed your dinner." 

"You know what? The chipotle wasn't bad," he says. "So now that's two things. I owe you for paying and for the good advice. What's that you said about paying it forward?" 

Checkmate. Using your own words against you. As it is, you're starting to feel rude for saying no so many times. It would be nice not to have to walk home with your phone light on. 

"Is taking a ride from a strange man better than walking home alone?" You ask, "since you're the expert?" 

"Wow, you can be mean," he snorts. "Reading me like a book." 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m kidding.” 

“I know, tootsie roll,” he says, “sweet like candy, aren’t ya?” 

You smile again, “well, you can be too. I’ll take the ride. Thank you.” 

He dumps the garbage in the bin and heads for the door. He lets you out ahead of him. It’s colder than when you got there. 

“It’s cold as... hell out here,” he says follows you out. He points you ahead, “the white one.” 

He blows into his hands and rubs them together. You’re no fan of the cold either but you can see his nose already turning red. You approach the white car; it’s sleek and shiny. You’re not sure what make it is but it must be expensive. 

The doors click loudly, “should be unlocked.” 

You nod and open the passenger door. You sit daintily, wary of the luxury interior. You shut the door just as carefully as he gets in the other side. He grumbles as he starts the engine and flicks switches. 

“Get those seat warmers on,” he says. “Ah, better.” He puts his palms to the blast of warmth from the vent before he grips the wheel. “Help me out, tootsie roll, where am I going?” 

“Right down to Harbour. East.” 

“Harbour East... you kidding me? You were really going to walk there alone?” He scoffs. 

“It’s not so bad once you get to know the area,” you say.  

“How’d you end up there?” He pulls into a three point turn as he reroutes. 

“I guess it’s just where I am right now. Thing’s changed fast and I had to make it work,” you lean into the seat. You’ve never been in a car with seat warmers. 

“Huh, that’s too bad,” he clucks. “You still looking for a place? I know a guy, owns a few properties...” 

“Oh no, it’s okay,” you hum lightly. “Really. It’s nice. I got my own space, I got food, I’m happy as can be.” 

“Simple things, so I’ve heard,” he mutters. 

You let a lull wash over you. Judging by his car, simple isn’t exactly to his taste. 

“So...” you brush your fingertips over your palm, “what do you do for work? You travel? When you mentioned your ear...” 

“Ah, yeah, er,” he squeezes the wheel tighter and coughs, “you know, I’m on the road when I need to be. Work can be sporadic but pays well enough. Specialty type of work.” 

“With loud machinery...” 

“Military engineer. You know, artillery, tanks... whatever,” he peeks over at you as blows through a four-way. 

“Hey, you missed the stop sign,” you crane to see behind you. 

“It’s fine, no one was crossing,” he says. 

“Yeah but... it’s not safe.” You turn forward again and frown. 

He’s quiet again. He sucks his teeth, “fine, you’re right. Not fair of me to offer you a ride then drive like a maniac. I’ll do better.” 

You let out a breath and subtly grab onto the door. Despite his promises, he doesn’t let off the gas. With how quiet the car is, it must be easy to go over the limit.  

He pulls onto Harbour and finally slows, “so, uh, why don’t you give me a call next time you head down to the shop? We could do it again. I’ll be nice this time.” 

“I don’t go too often but sure, I could use a friend,” you perk up and direct him to your building. 

“You telling me you don’t got friends, tootsie roll?” He stops in front of your apartment. 

“I... did. They’re gone now,” you look away. You try not to get to wistful about it. “Anyway, thanks--” 

“Holy f—moley,” he corrects himself as he leans forward to see around you, “this place can’t be up to code--” 

“Lloyd,” you blurt out. “I’m fine. Really. Home safe. Thanks to you.” 

“Mhm, well, friends are supposed to worry about each other, right?” 

“And as your friend, I’m telling you not to worry,” you smile and pull the handle, “have a good night.” 

He huffs as you undo your seat belt, “yeah, good night.” 

[piichuu]

AFTER LAUGHTER (COMES TEARS) - GOJO SATORU

WARNINGS: hurt to comfort, gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 906

you’re laying on the couch when your boyfriend arrives back home from a long day at work. he was called in early in the morning to exorcise curses before it was time to switch roles into a teacher and help his students at jujutsu high. now it’s late into the evening, and he has most likely not gotten the time to rest at all today.

“i’m home!” he says cheerfully, walking into the living room as you get up from the couch to greet him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “how was your day?” you ask, pulling away a little to look at his face, brushing your fingers through his white messy hair.

he looks at you with a smile on his face, one that you see every single day, almost every single time you look at him. “it was good, yuji is finally getting the hang of it and it’s the same old with the others,” gojo explains as you scan his face, slowly but surely noticing the dark bags under his glassy eyes.

“are you okay? you must be tired, you’ve been working all day,” you lower your voice slightly, trying to sound as soft as possible, hoping he won’t lie about his feelings like he almost always does.

that seems to be his breaking point, his smile quickly faltering and his lower lip starting to quiver while tears begin to form in his eyes. his hands that were resting on your waist are starting to shake and it almost seems like he is about to faint.

sobs fill the room as you once again put your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. he’s holding onto you as tightly as he can, nuzzling his face into your neck, his tears falling onto your shirt. he’s hanging onto you as if his life depended on it, like he’s afraid to let go.

you sit down on the couch with him, rubbing gojo’s back in an attempt to comfort him. “i’m sorry, i-i’m sorry,” gojo sobs. “i don’t want to be weak, i’m sorry-“

his own tears interrupt him as he sniffles, trying to look away when you cup his face in your palms. “don’t say sorry, satoru. it’s okay to cry,” you say, tears forming in your own eyes at the sight of your boyfriend feeling like this. “you don’t have to hide just because you’re letting your feelings out.”

you rub his cheeks with your thumbs, allowing him to take his time, watching as the sobs slowly die down and he tries to wipe his tears away. “did something bad happen today?” you ask but gojo shakes his head, sighing.

“no, nothing happened. it’s just-i’m so tired. these stupid fucking higher ups keep putting me on all missions they can and then i have to be a teacher to the kids. i love them, they’re amazing, but i keep getting reminded of the old days every single time i see them,” he admits, looking down at his lap while speaking.

“i’m tired of being the strongest, i just wish i could be here at home all day and just sleep, eat, cuddle with you, watch movies. i wish i didn’t have to be the strongest all the time, i’m not even the strongest because if i was, suguru would be alive by now, i would’ve been able to help him,” gojo once again tears up at the thought of his friend who is no longer here.

you brush a hand through his hair gently. “don’t ever blame yourself, satoru. it’s not your fault, okay?” you try your best to reassure him, not knowing what to say.

he sighs and reaches for your hands, intertwining them with his own. “i don’t know what to do,” he whispers and you squeeze his hands. “that’s okay, we’ll just take it minute by minute, we don’t have to think about the past or the future right now if that would make it feel easier. we can just be here right now,” you say while leaning your forehead against his.

gojo closes his eyes for a little while and takes a deep breath with you, trying to calm down. “but maybe it’ll feel a little easier if you keep telling me whenever you feel like this, whenever something that disturbs you crosses your mind. it will all feel much worse if you keep trying to smile when you’re not happy. i’m your partner because i’m here no matter what, okay?”

gojo nods and opens his eyes to look into yours. “okay, thank you…i’m sorry for putting all of this on you-“ “don’t say sorry, i want to know what’s going on in your head,” you say, watching as he begins to place soft kisses to the knuckles of your hands.

“okay, i’ll try my best,” he mumbles, eventually letting go of your hands to pull you in for a hug again. “can we just go to sleep now?”

you smile softly and nod, placing a kiss to his cheek. “yeah we can, you don’t want dinner?” you ask and he chuckles lightly. “maybe i’ll eat some dinner first, i do love your cooking after all.”

gojo begins to get up from the couch, taking your hand. “and i do love you, of course,” he speaks before pulling you up from the couch as well, pressing a kiss to your forehead before walking towards the kitchen.

TAG LIST: @shotovhs

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[westanthewaterman]

Feel You - Dark x GN!DA!Reader

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: Reunited after a century apart, Dark and the District Attorney spend some quality time together. Or more simply put, love sick Dark -> feral Dark.

Contents: handjobs, penetrative sex, no pronouns or body parts used for reader, standard Dark pet names (dear heart, pet, etc.), mild voice kink, blink and you miss it references to Dark's mind powers

AN: Idk where this came from, but it was fun to write. I'll post to AO3 and add all my usual links later, I should've been in bed an hour ago. If you're still here despite my hiatus, I appreciate you.

         Dark hikes your leg up onto his hip. He relishes in the softness of your skin beneath his fingers, a concrete reminder that you’re here, that you’re together again after everything.

         The new position allows him more space to roll his hips, grinding down against the heat between your legs. You shudder beneath him. He repeats the motion once, twice, and you throw your head back against the pillows.  His hungry, grey eyes follow the column of your throat upwards until they land on your mouth. Your lips part around a whimper and he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss against them.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you sing for me, dear heart.”

“Damien,” You whine before hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“I think it’s a little late to hide from me now.” He chuckles. “What’s gotten you so shy, darling?”

“You never talked this much before.”

         Dark tenses, a familiar, far-away look in his eyes, one he always gets when the two of you discuss the past. You cup the side of his face, gently guiding his gaze back to yours. He blinks. A melancholy smile settles on his face. You pull his head down so that you can press your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my love. There are bad memories, yes, but also good ones. In fact, I can recall quite a few memories of us just as we are now, bare in each other’s arms, locked in the throes of passion.”

There’s a wry smile on his face, one that reminds you of evenings spent tucked away between bookshelves, sneaking out of dormitories at the crack of dawn, a rendezvous in the storage closet of a crowded chapel. Your heart aches for all the two of you have lost and can never get back. But despite everything you had been through, the two of you were together again.

Dark presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how your mind races. I think about it too, even now. Almost a century without you and I never stopped feeling your absence. I ached to hold you in my arms, to have you beneath me, to feel you tight as a vice as you come apart around me.”

A thought creeps into your mind and turns your stomach to lead. He had been by himself for so long, sure you were gone forever. You couldn’t blame him or be angry, but still the thought makes you sick.

“Was,” you pause a moment, steeling yourself for his answer. “Was there ever anyone else? In your heart, or your bed?”

He looks at you as if your words have burned him. When he speaks, his voice is firm, unwavering.

“No. My dear heart, there could never be another. I vowed to love you in sickness and in health, in love and in death. There could only ever be you.”

“Oh.” You blush.

The intensity of his answer makes you feel foolish for even suggesting such a thing. You drop your gaze, absently picking at the sheets beneath you. It’s Dark’s turn to take your face in his hand and bring your gaze back to him.

“I loved you deeply, but I know my actions did not always convey that. At times, I allowed my responsibilities and ambitions to blind me to how I was neglecting you. You deserved a better man than I knew how to be back then, and I have spent a century regretting it. But now, despite terrible circumstances and the battles still to be fought, we have a second chance, and I intend to use it to do right by you.”

“Damien, I…I don’t know what to say.”

“There is no need to say anything, dear heart. I know you feel as strongly as I do; I feel it through our bond, and soon I’ll feel it here as well.”

Dark presses a finger against your entrance, pressing it into you slowly. You cry out, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him flush against you

“You said earlier that I never used to talk very much when we were intimate, and you were right.” His voice drips with venom as he continues. “The prim and proper mayor, so worried about civility and manners. Too obsessed with his image and what was ‘acceptable’ to truly speak his mind.”

You want to argue, to defend Dark’s former self against his own harsh criticism, instead a moan rips its way out of your throat when two more fingers fill you. Dark’s grin is wicked. He ducks down to press his lips to your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a quick tug. You clench around his fingers, earning an amused chuckle.

“I have no such worries. My only concern is pleasing you and, by the way your body responds for me, I can tell I’m doing just that. This little hole of yours is so hot and tight around my fingers, and it’s all for me, isn’t it?”

A shudder wracks your body and you moan, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh,” Dark purrs. “Now what got that reaction? You like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, pet?”

“Y-Yes.”

“But what is it that has you so responsive? Is it my voice in your ear? The things that I’m saying to you? Or maybe none of that matters. Perhaps I could say anything, and you would respond just as wantonly, so long as I have you filled with my fingers or my cock.”

“All of it, it’s all of it. Damien, fuck.”

“Dear heart, such foul language. Have I already wrecked you so thoroughly?”

You scowl at him but you both know there’s no mirth behind it. “Fuck you.”

         There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as Dark grabs a handful of your hair, pulling just enough to force your head back and bare your throat to him. Sharp canines scratch playfully against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You should be careful what you ask for, my love. I am a changed man with a century of pent-up sexual frustration. I could take you over and over and over again, never tiring until I have given you every drop of my spend and the only word you know is my name.”

Dark sets a languid pace thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“You want it now, just as much as you did back then, isn’t that right? You wanted the serious, respectable mayor to break. You craved to be taken passionately, for him to make love to you like a man starved.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod frantically, bucking your hips against his hand.

“I have hungered for you for so long, dear heart; I feel almost ravenous with it.”

Dark removes his fingers from you and fists his leaking cock, stroking himself slowly. You find yourself mesmerized by the motion and the way his stomach muscles tense and flex with every stroke of his hand. Your eyes follow a drop of his arousal as it drips down the underside of his cock. You lick your lips. Knocking his hand out of the way, you take him in your own, his length hot and heavy in your palm.

         He groans appreciatively as you stroke him from base to tip, occasionally rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. You guide his hand to rest over your heart.

 “You’ve spent all this time talking about what I want and how you can please me. What do you want?”

“I want to make up for lost time. I want to give you everything I could not before.”

“But that’s still about me. Damien, what do you want?

He falters. “I…I just want you. I want to feel you. I want to know that you are real, and not just some illusion he made to torment me.”

“I want to feel you too.” You guide the head of his cock to your entrance. “I’m here, my love. I’m real. This is real.”

Dark presses into you in one long, slow thrust that has him buried to the hilt. Both of you moan at the sensation. You wrap your legs around his waist and urge him forward, forcing his cock deeper inside.

“Fuck, my love, I never thought I would feel you like this again.”

You smirk. “Such foul language, Damien. Now who’s wrecked who?”

Instead of a response, Dark grabs your face and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss. So much is shared between you in this single moment of contact, decades of sorrow and grief, an emptiness immeasurable by time. But there is also hope and joy, lust and elation. Most importantly, there is love; a love that has weathered the test of time and survived even the most unthinkable circumstances.

The two of you pull apart, both crying and holding each other like your lives depend on it.

“I love you, dear heart. Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I love you too, Damien. Thank you for finding me.”

Dark speeds up the pace of his thrusts, breathing heavily in your ear.

“I am afraid it has been too long, my love. I have spent a century waiting to feel you like this again and now I find myself unable to hold back my release.”

“I’m close too. You feel so good.”

“I want you to cum with me now. Let me feel you.”

         He grabs your thighs and presses them back so that he can rut into you, ruthlessly. You cry out at the way the new angle causes the head of his cock to brush against a sweet spot deep inside that has you seeing stars. Your orgasm washes over you and you finish with a cry of his name. The tight heat of you bares down around him and the dam holding back Dark’s climax breaks. Waves of pleasure crash over him as he stills inside you, filling you with his release.

         The two of you lay together in silence, collecting your bearings. You think you might fall asleep until Dark gives a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you.

“How-”

He gives you a wicked grin and presses his lips to your ear.

“I told you I was a changed man, dear heart, and we have quite a lot of lost time to make up for.”

[kaiyunsim]

HEARTS IN THE MARGINS — chapter 12 : og bf

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written section : (wc : ~450) not proof read :>

Jake shows up at the usual meetup spot, the library, this time a half-hour early. He feels bad for having you come over on such short notice so he decides to pick something up on his way there. The place he stopped by was a coffee shop that you mentioned that you liked, he took a mental note of it and hoped it would make up for the mini emergency that he had.

fifteen minutes pass, normally you would be there. he doesn’t think much about it though because it’s still early. eventually it reaches the time you agreed to meet up and he looks around for you, still nowhere to be seen. he starts to check his messages if you said anything. empty. he decides to text again, thinking you probably just missed his previous message.

hi y/n erm you’re coming right

he texts, of course not expecting a response right away so he puts his phone down. he starts to scan his surroundings checking if you are around. he kills some time by preparing the area and setting up his supplies and books.

eventually fifteen minutes pass, he just makes up another excuse, ‘maybe they’re bus is late’ ‘maybe they had to do something’ ‘maybe they forgot’ he rambles on and on in his own thoughts wondering why you aren’t there yet. he checks his messages again, all of them left on delivered.

are they ignoring me?

jake thinks to himself. after waiting another fifteen minutes, for a total of thirty minutes later than the scheduled meetup, jake finally packs up and starts to leave. at this point his gift that he got you was cold and ruined already.

jake leaves and drives off to the last place he last knew you were, heeseung’s place. once there he knocks. heeseung opens the door and greets jake with a confused face.

”why are you here? i didn’t know were having a game session today…” heeseung rambles,

”no i’m not here to play,” jake scoffs, slightly annoyed by the comment from heeseung, “is y/n here?”

”oh you know them? they left just a bit ago”

”really? which bus did they take?” jake asks, knowing you don’t have a car and just use public transit.

”oh they didn’t take a bus, their friend picked them up.”

jake sighs in defeat, not knowing of any more places to check or find y/n.

“why don’t you try asking hoon? they’re friends,” heeseung comments, trying to help jake out. it sucks to see him like this so heeseung wanted to do whatever he could to help.

jake nods before waving goodbye and hopping into his car, driving back to his dorm, leaving him thinking about what to do next.

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a/n : sorry everyone been busy doing school :(( BUT i have a long weekend so maybe oneshots?? i didn’t really like how this turned out but i have some ideas for future chapters. plus i had to get something out i feel bad for being so ia so it def feels a bit rushed. (please request things so i get out of this writing block for hearts in the margins)

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taglist ! : (OPEN !) comment or send an ask to be added !

@onlyhyunjin @starchasing-cryptid @bubblztaro @kanattac @nootnootpinguuu @gnusihcom @kkurbys @w0uldyoukissme @ilovejungwonandhaechan @pshwrldd @minoouz @winuvs @zhaegon @danielleism

[tikosblogg]

Come Undone

Summary: Best Friend Noah🥰

Warning: Fist fight, cussing, unprotected piv (plz don’t do that), mention of drug use.

A/N: Yall I have had writers block so bad…I’m so sorry if this is garbage. I really tired 😭💜

I stood by the bonfire, my heart pounding in time with the crackling flames. The glow illuminated the faces of my friends—Noah, Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly—each one lost in the bliss of the moment. I couldn’t help but steal glances at Noah.

He was tall, lean, adorned with tattoos that coiled like vines up his neck and across his arms. In the dim light, he seemed to radiate strength. Noah. My best friend, my secret crush, oblivious to the feelings that swirled within me. I ignored them, pushed them down for so long…but it’s useless.

Folio and Jolly were perched on the tailgate of Folio's truck, while Noah and Nicholas loomed nearby, their laughter blending with the music drifting from speakers hidden in the crowd. With every chuckle, my heart fluttered. I wanted to tell Noah how I felt, to lay bare the secrets of my heart. Yet, every time I opened my mouth to speak, the words shriveled into silence. What if I ruined our friendship? What if he didn’t feel the same?

As I shook off my doubts, that’s when she arrived. Jordan. The name sent icy tendrils down my spine, conjuring memories of high school torment. There she was—strutting towards us like she owned the night, her shimmering hair catching the glow of the fire. She was the embodiment of the girl who made my life a living hell, and tonight she had chosen to swoop into my world once more.

"Hey, Noah!" she smiled, leaning against the side of Folio's truck with a flirtatious smile, as she playfully tugged at the hem of his hoodie, that instantly soured my stomach. "What’s a guy like you doing with a bunch of misfits?"

Laughter erupted in the group, but all I could focus on was the heat creeping up my neck. I could pretend I didn’t feel the flames of jealousy licking at my insides; I could act like I wasn’t feeling small and insignificant next to the Amazonian figure of Jordan. My fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides, desperate for release.

Noah chuckled awkwardly, side-eyeing me for a moment. "Just enjoying a bonfire. Nice to see you, Jordan." He nodded, taking a step back from her.

She leaned closer, her voice dripping with malice. "You could have a lot more fun with me" Then she turned her gaze to me, a wicked smile blooming on her lips. "What’s Roxy doing hanging out with all the boys? Shouldn't she be off somewhere shooting up with her mommy?”

Everyone was silent. Eyes widened in shock. The reaction was instantaneous, the alcohol coursing through my veins igniting a fire of courage I didn’t know I had. The scars from high school throbbed, and before I even registered what I was doing, I was stepping forward. “Say it again,” I demanded, my voice steady in its resolve. A quiet “oh shit” coming from somewhere behind me.

Jordan laughed, a sound that was anything but genuine. “What? You didn’t hear me?” She gave a fake pout, which only infuriated me further. "I said, 'Shouldn't you be off shooting up with your mother? Or maybe picking her up from another crackhouse?”

In less than a heartbeat, I charged, adrenaline coiling tightly in my chest. I lunged at her, and the shock in the crowd reverberated around me like an electric shock. I swept her legs from under her, and in a heartbeat, she was on the ground with a hard thud. “Fuck you!” I came down on her, my fists raining with a furious energy I didn’t know I possessed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd, but they were drowned out by the pounding of my heart. Each punch was cathartic, breaking through years of pent-up anger, old wounds that had never fully healed.

But just as quickly as it had started, it ended. Noah’s arms were around me, pulling me away with a force that startled me back to reality. “Roxy! Stop!” His grip was firm, and his chest was solid against my back. I felt my fists clench and unclench, ready for more, but I made no more attempts. Breathing heavily, I turned to face him.

His large hands cupped my heated cheeks. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, concerned, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface—as if the situation sparked a fierce intensity within him.

Breathless, I nodded, though I could feel the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins. As the crowd began to murmur and disperse, Noah led me away from the fire, his arm around my waist, gently guiding me toward the makeshift parking lot in the gigantic field we were in. His grip was warm, sending sparks of something undeniable running through me.

Once we reached nicholas’s suv, he opened the door and sat me down in the passenger seat, standing between my thighs like an ever-looming wall of safety. “Where the hell did that come from?” he asked, his brows knitted together in concern, mixing with a hint of admiration that almost made my heart skip.

“I don’t know, Noah. I just…I can’t stand her. She used to do that shit to me in high school. She brought up my mom an—”

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, his expression shifting. “You shouldn’t let her get to you, she’s a fucking basic bitch that peaked in high school.”

I looked up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening wrap around us. “But she…I just wanted her to know I’m not the same girl she used to pick on anymore.” My breath hitched, the truth of it spilling out, sparking all sorts of feelings I hadn’t yet embraced.

“That much is clear, and I’m proud of you. I won’t lie, That was pretty bad ass.” he said, a slight smile breaking through. “And if I were her, I’d think twice before messing with you again.”

Noah’s words wrapped around me like an embrace, and for a moment, I felt invincible. “She wants you, and it makes me sick. She can’t take you away from me Noah..” I whispered, looking down as the weight of my emotions pressed on my chest.

He stepped even closer, the warmth of his body surrounded me, while his eyes searched mine. “You won’t lose me. You’re my best friend, Roxy. Always.”

“I’m sorry..” I sighed heavily dropping my head in embarrassment. He shook his head, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. "Don't apologize.” His touch sent a shiver down my spine, a sensation I had often felt around him but never wanted to acknowledge. I turned my face towards his hand, pressing a soft kiss on his palm.

"Thank you for always being there for me," I murmured, my eyes finally meeting with his.

In that moment, something shifted between us. The air crackled with unspoken feelings. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The kiss was soft and sweet, ending way too soon for my liking.

"I've wanted to do that for so long" he smiled, his smooth voice making me crazy. "I've always felt this way, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship." He eyed me almost nervously. Like he was waiting for my rejection.

I lifted my hand, lightly running it up his abdomen feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. I reached his neck, finally cupping his soft cheek in my hand. “Ive always wanted you Noah.” I whisper lightly, a small smile tracing my lips.

He smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation lighting up his handsome face. “You have me.” He whispered, running his big hands up my thighs.

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in again, this time not holding back. His lips were firm and demanding, yet tender, exploring every inch of my mouth as if memorizing the taste of me. I moaned softly, opening my mouth wider, inviting him in. His tongue slid against mine, a sensual battle for dominance that left mine breathless.

My hands roamed over his body, desperate to feel every inch of him. I tugged at his shirt, and he quickly obliged, shrugging it off, revealing his tatted up chest and abs. I couldn't resist running my hands over his skin, feeling the heat radiating from his body.

"Wait, not out here" Noah panted, breaking the kiss. "Scoot back"

I needed no further encouragement. I scrambled farther into the back seat, my heart pounding with anticipation. He followed, his eyes dark with lust, slamming the door closed behind him. He wasted no time, capturing my lips again as he pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips.

My fingers fumbled with his belt, eager to release the growing bulge in his jeans. He groaned as I freed his straining cock, stroking it gently, relishing the feel of his hardness in my hand.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed, his head falling back. "You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this"

I smiled, trailing light kisses over his jaw. "Show me, then.”

With that, he grabbed the hem of my jeans. He slid them down and off, before finally guiding his cock to my already soaking pussy, slowly lowering me onto him, taking him inch by inch. I gasped as he filled me, stretching me deliciously. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements as I began to ride him, my wetness clinging to his shaft.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Your pussy so fucking tight. So perfect." He groaned, pulling my shirt off throwing somewhere in the car.

His words only served to heighten my arousal. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest as I quickened my pace. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my breasts. A breathy moan escaped as he pinched my nipple, taking the other into his warm mouth sucking softly sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck I'm so close," I whimpered, my voice breathless. "I'm gonna cum, Noah please."

He bucked his hips, driving himself deeper into me, at a fast pace. His lips released my nipple with a soft pop, as he groaned against my hot skin "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it."

As if on cue, my orgasm crashed over me, ripples of pleasure radiating from my core. I cried out, my body trembling as he continued fucking me through it. Soon after he followed suit, his cock throbbing inside me as he came, filling me up.

Breathless and satisfied, I collapsed onto his chest, our hearts pounding in unison. He kissed the top of my head, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his long fingers ran through my hair.

I lifted my head, cupping his cheeks with shaky hands. I kissed his lips softly, a huge smile falling over my lips. “I’m perfect.” He smiled, pecking my lips one last time before reaching for our clothes. We got dressed, and he turned toward me with his perfect smile. “You ready to go back out there?”

I sat quietly for a minute before giving him an answer. “Actually…can we go back home?” He smiled, nodding his head before leaving to round up the rest of the guys. My heart happy that the man I wanted, wanted me back.

[casuallyanidiot]

Sorry to double ask but I realize I had more thoughts:

He doesn’t have the same feeling of entitlement as a lot of this genre has (not that entitlement is a bad thing), even though you were literally given to him along with a title.

But at least in my eyes, it feels less like he just believes he should have you because he deserves it, it feels like he wishes he could’ve had the time to court you properly, and make you fall in love with him, but sadly war and royal politics took that time from him, so now he gets to have you, wether you want it or not. Something about the lost time is really one of the things that’s getting me here.

Anyways if nothin else I think you’re a phenomenal writer lmao and I’m quite happy I found your blog!

Thank you all so much! Honestly I didn't expect people to love him so much. I plan on making a proper part 2 for Yantober at least, but I like the thoughts on him.

I think what makes him so yummy is that there's a tragedy somewhere in here. You knew him when he was just an innocent boy, untainted and uncorrupted by war and heavy class difference. In fact, you might have actually liked him once upon a time.

But the love of conquest and bloodshed has been beat into Yandere knight, and you're just a casualty of that careful grooming. It's honestly so unfair that he hangs onto the hope of you being able to love him again because, in a way, it's like you are the last vestige of his normal life that he has left. He needs you because you represent a time in his life when a simple childhood crush was the biggest of his worries.

He feels bad for the way he forces you by his side because he's not just betraying you, he's betraying himself. Or at least, he's betraying the version of himself that actually deserved a chance at being with you.

It hurts since he knows that it doesn't feel right for either of you, but he'd rather be in this awful, icky situation rather than not have you at all.

[crguang]

can I request nsfw prompt #78 for yukong? 🤑🤑

i miss my wife so bad. why is this 2.5k words

cw: some smut at the end, oral sex w/ sub!yukong for the soul

It’s almost ten in the evening when you check your phone to send Yukong a message. You had been too preoccupied this afternoon to let her know that you would finish working later than usual, so you’re a little surprised to not find a text from her checking up on you once she realized you wouldn’t show up for dinner. You type out a message telling her that you’re back in Starskiff Haven and on your way home. You barely put the phone back in your front pocket when it buzzes with a reply. You walk through illuminated streets as you read it and frown.

Okay. I’m finishing up some things at the Palace of Astrum, be there soon.

It’s quite late, Yukong should have gone home hours ago, if she’s still working it means she likely got lost in the mountain of documents and reports on her desk and won’t want to step away from it until the pile has significantly been reduced. You sigh quietly, pocketing the device and changing the direction of your footsteps towards the Palace of Astrum. You wonder if she’s eaten dinner at all, you know how focused and negligent of her needs she can get; she’s also been feeling a little irritated recently due to hormonal changes and doing paperwork at night is easier without the usual clatter of employees and computers. It’s an old habit you’ve been trying to break by going home together whenever your schedules allow and having your last meal of the day in each other’s company (Yukong’s cooking is to die for.) It forces her to leave the office around six at the latest and that way, you get to have her for yourself all evening. You stop by her favorite takeout place on the way to her workplace and order some soup dumplings to go. Warm food in hand, you quickly make your way to the Palace of Astrum, knowing Yukong would still be there despite her earlier message.

The large door creaks open when you push it with one hand. You walk inside the spacious headquarters of the Sky-Faring Commission and instantly spot Yukong’s bent figure at the far end of the room, desk alight as she scribbles things on a document. She’s so busy with whatever she’s doing that she doesn't hear you come closer like she would normally. Her ears are flattened forward and her shoulders look tense, a clear sign of her discontentment.

“Yukong?”

Her head raises abruptly at the sound of your voice so near and the woman blinks as her gaze settles on you walking up the couple of stairs needed to reach her work station. You see a flicker of guilt blending in the violet of her eyes at the realization that time has passed her by once again and you smile to alleviate her worries.

“You’re here,” Yukong states softly then glances at the takeout bag in your hand. “What’s this?”

“Dumplings. Did you eat?”

“Ah…”

She doesn’t say no, but indirectly answers your question anyway. You step closer to her to peep over her shoulder at the dozen of papers laying before her, some of which are annotated with her neat handwriting while others are sprawled on the surface as if she was looking for something in particular. Yukong follows your gaze to her work and sighs.

“I lost track of time, I’m sorry,” she apologizes in a low voice, stacking documents on top of each other before organizing the piles into different folders. “I was so restless today, I could only focus when most of the staff had gone home. I didn’t realize it until I saw your message.”

“It’s alright,” you assure her lightly, “are you okay?”

Yukong looks up at you with a small smile, your concern appreciated. “Yes. Just… not quite myself at the moment.”

“You probably need a break. Let’s go home so you can eat, and I could give you a massage if you want.”

She hums. Your words sound nice but they’re not enough to keep her attention off the work waiting for her on her desk. She glances back at it, lingering on a certain pile to her right, and the tip of her ears twitch the way it does when she’s about to say something you won’t like.

“I still need to finish those though…”

You lay the bag of dumplings on the ground, freeing your hands to cross your arms over your chest. Yukong pointedly avoids the purse of your lips.

“They’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s the problem. If I finish tonight, I can focus my attention on other matters tomorrow.”

“You’ve been working for hours. When was the last time you took a break? Two in the afternoon?”

Yukong’s smile turns apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

You don’t throw in the towel, instead shifting close to where she sits and lifting a leg to straddle her lap. Yukong lets out a soft sound of surprise, instinctively raising her hands so you can get comfortable on her plump thighs. You feel the desk’s edge against your lower back. Her eyes meet yours and you circle her neck with your arms, fiddling with a few strands of silky hair and curling them gently around your fingers. Her body is warm, like always, and you can’t help a smile at the unimpressed look she gives you even as one of her hands rests against your waist. If the place wasn’t totally empty, she would have pushed you off.

“What are you doing?”

“Now you have to focus on me.” From up close, the smooth bow of her lips seems to draw you in. Your gaze flitters to its pink curve before taking in her narrowing eyes.

“I really need to finish this, kit.”

“But do you?”

Yukong simply sighs once more. You know she’s close to breaking, to succumb to your insistent wishes, she just needs a little push. Your fingers leave her long hair to ghost over her warm cheek with your nails, drawing senseless patterns on her skin. There’s a faint flush across her face, and you briefly wonder if she’s feeling hotter than usual. You can feel the tension in her shoulders evaporate slightly at the loving gesture, but she also shifts under you a few times, seemingly restless. To convince her further, you lift a hand to the back of her left ear and brush the soft fur at your disposal in a languid motion. Her lashes flutter involuntarily.

“Come on…” you support your saccharine tone with a small pout, “go home with me?”

“It would be irresponsible—”

You don’t let her articulate her argument. You lean forward to press a chaste kiss on her lips and despite its short duration, her words melt on her tongue. The taste of her is familiar and brings comfort you only find in her. You can’t resist capturing her mouth with your own a second time and Yukong lets you, eyes falling shut. She returns your sweet kisses as you absentmindedly stroke the back of her ear, and a little quiver runs through it at your gentle touch. Again, her thighs shift under your weight, brushing together almost unconsciously. Her breath blends with yours with every quiet exhale through her nose. You’re first to withdraw from her puckered lips, gaze dulled by the tenderness of the moment. The pink hue of her cheeks spreads to the base of her neck and her chest rises a beat quicker. Her hands now hold your body to hers.

You recognize the veil over her irises as she looks at you, the sight of her dilating pupils is the last piece of the puzzle concerning her mood lately. The prominent flush of her skin, her restlessness— you spare a glance behind her and notice the sway of her fluffy tail. Her affliction becomes obvious.

“Yukong…” you start slowly, and she already looks embarrassed at her reaction to a few kisses, avoiding your growing smile for a moment. You bring her back to face you with kind fingers under her jaw. “Don’t be like that, Helm Master. Are you getting a little needy?”

Yukong makes a face that illustrates her self-consciousness. She doesn’t respond, but you don’t need a reply.

“Tell you what,” you continue, “we can go home and I’ll gladly take care of you, or… I could always get you off right here, right now.”

The mortification on her features makes you laugh and she swats your hand away from her chin, shaking her head like she aims to erase the thoughts that popped in her mind at your suggestion.

“Don’t be lewd.” She pauses for a couple of seconds after reprimanding you. “We can go home.”

You wear a smug smile as you stand from her lap and watch her put away her documents. She locks them in a drawer, quickly tidies up her desk and ignores your triumphant face all the while. She’s still flustered, you see it in the movements of her tail and the blush that colors her collarbones. You decide not to tease her further for now and readily lace your fingers with hers after she offers you a hand, picking up the food off the ground and leaving the Palace of Astrum behind for the night. Her warmth travels to your palm and up to your chest like a soothing balm and you drink in her proximity on your way back, occasionally pulling her to your side when she strays too far for your liking.

Yukong’s desire is written along her body, it’s in the flick of her ear and the grip of her hand around yours as you make your way home, and in the eagerness with which she pulls you forward to kiss you once you’re behind closed doors. Your breath is stolen by her fervent touches, her tongue wets your lips the moment they part, and it takes you a couple of minutes to regain your bearings. She is flushed against you, trapping you between her burning skin and the front door. She takes what she wants because she can’t help it and is too embarrassed to ask for it. Your hands squeeze her waist and a muffled noise sounds from somewhere in her throat. In one swift motion, you switch places with her, pressing her back to the door and her chest to yours. Your mouth doesn’t let her go, not that she minds. Your blissful sighs become one with each exhale and your hands dip into the cuts of her dress over her hips to feel more of her skin. You think you feel her shiver. Yukong’s kisses are eager with the hint of a desperation that you find deeply endearing. She verbalizes her needs through soft, muffled moans against your lips, and your mind fogs up with arousal at the low tone of her voice. Your knee wriggles between her thighs just to hear the sharp intake of breath from her mouth.

Her body is pliable under your hands, it bends and moves at your will as you lead Yukong to the bedroom, the takeout you bought forgotten somewhere near the entrance of the house. You’re suddenly hungry for something else. Yukong can’t control the sway of her tail or the hairs that rise across her body, you find it so arousing to witness her reaction to your devoted touch; you undress her carefully even in the face of her impatience, letting the fabric of her dress crumple to the floor, and you take a measured step backwards to admire the curves of her stomach and hips. She tugs you to the bed with a hand. When she gets like this, your weight on her grounds her to the present, to the open-mouthed kisses you plant over her jaw and the sensation of your fingers digging into her thigh. Wetness pools in her underwear just from having you so close.

“Hah… Mmnh…”

Yukong makes the sweetest noises when you finally take pity on her and trail your tongue up her wet slit, collecting her arousal like it’s a treat to be enjoyed. The dark hairs on her cunt are slick with her need, and like an obedient pup she keeps her thighs spread for you, allowing you to lose yourself in the heat between her legs. Her tangy taste overpowers your senses. Part of you hears the quiet moans that tumble from Yukong’s lips and feels her fingers in your hair, holding you firmly against her pussy, but your nose is buried in her and you can’t focus on anything else. Her clit throbs for your attention so you comply with her silent request and wrap your lips around the aching bud, sucking it lightly into your mouth. Your arms are around her thighs to keep her close, and you eat her out as if she was a glass of cool water on a hot summer day.

“K-Kit—“

The loving nickname, in this context, makes you moan into her cunt. Your tongue laves her puffy lips steadily, sometimes teasing her dripping entrance for more of her taste etched onto the walls of your mouth. You feel a throbbing sensation between your legs but ignore it for now, fully dedicated to having Yukong come on your tongue. Her breasts rise and fall with the beating of her lungs, perky nipples hard as gemstones and just as pretty. Her hips meet the pace of your mouth, desperate for her impending release. The tremble of her thighs indicate how close she is to coming for you and you flick her sensitive clit with your tongue a few times to send her over the edge.

Her eyes squeeze shut with the intensity of her release and a pitiful sound of pleasure sticks to the back of her throat, her cunt throbbing beneath your devout mouth. You lap up the cum smeared over her pussy with a satisfied hum. Yukong’s breaths are heavy, she lays against the pillows as she comes down from her high, and you clean her up as one would savor an iced dessert. Softly sucking on her clit earns you a noise close to a whimper. She’s too far gone to feel embarrassed about the sounds she’s making, the thought makes you smile.

You raise your head to look at her properly. You run your hands up her hips. She’s so beautiful, wrecked by your tongue. Yukong blinks slowly, gazing down at you through lidded eyes, and you recognize that lustful stare. You’ll be ruining her multiple times before the night ends; she won’t be entirely satisfied until her limbs ache and she’s emptied herself for you.

[rojacatmisa]

Chapter 10 ➺ Not a cloud in sight

Hey readers! I think this chapter can almost be read as a one shot as long as you read the summary first! It's a shorter and very fluffy chapter, still minor DNI sorry. Thanks, tough ones, that are keeping up with that really long story! It's still not the end of it!

Starting over in Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique! Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze Chapter 8 ➺ Confusion and directions Chapter 9 ➺ A place for words

TW: smut +18, mention of periods 4,5K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"Ladies and gentlemen please remain seated and attached during takeoff ."

My fingers squeezed the hand she had let out for me on the armrest.

"I’m glad I’m not seated next to you when we travel with the Real or I’d have a broken hand by now!" the goalkeeper chuckled lightly and winced, my grip crushing her palm as I focused on the cover of a magazine stored in the back of the seat in the front row. "Relax and enjoy your fight to Formentera" the title said provocatively. I was nowhere close to being relaxed, Misa’s poor hand being the proof of my fear of flying right now. 

I had never been an air person, afraid of highs, planes, and even of kites when I was young. My two feet had always felt right on spot when being firmly on the ground or at least less than ten feet above it. That was why I couldn’t even answer the goalie when the plane quitted the earth and took off toward the sky at full speed. 

I closed my eyes and tried hard to concentrate on the warm and large hand under mine. My grip loosen slightly, my palm was sweating and I wiped it on my jeans before taking Misa’s hand back. Her skin felt soft, her fingertips attempted soothing motions and succeed at making me loose my focus on the speed, the high and the feeling of being trapped. Misa’s fingers were always distracting.

The plane stabilized and the now familiar "seatbelt is no longer required" sound rang out and my eyes flung opened. "Respira, Cariño. Estoy aquí para ti", Misa left my hand but only to lift the armrest so she could wrap her arm around my shoulders. Her other hand found my chin and lift it, and I could do nothing but dive in her brown eyes as she led her face closer until her plump lips pressed lightly onto mine. 

I closed my eyelides again to let her kiss take me away from the plane. The feel of her lips ghosting all over my face sent shivers in my body, followed by the first itches of desire. I briefly thought of how easily Misa could work me up and wondered if there would be a day the tiniest contact of her lips wouldn’t make me want her at once. To put a stop to my growing excitement, I preferred to snuggle up to her. Breathing in her sweet perfume helped me finally relax a bit. 

"I know it’s not obvious right now but I’m like, really really happy we go on holidays together, Mis’", I murmured. 

"Oh… I was precisely thinking I should have left you at the airport…"

"I don’t believe you, nasty girl…" 

The young woman wrapping arm pulled me closer and she kissed my forehead, "En verdad, I can’t wait you meet Jenni, Ale and Laia, Cari!"

"You know, I’m a bit anxious to see them since you told me you and Jenni jumpscared Alexia so much once, she almost threw up…" 

"Don’t be scared, you’re perfectly loca para nosotras, you’ll blend in no time!" We both chuckled until a shake of the plane made me tense again and I sunk deeper into the goalie’s cuddles. 

***

The taxi parked in front of a large modern villa with the biggest bay windows I’d ever seen. The house was juste above one of the many beaches of Formentera island, framed by many pine trees and colorful flowery bushes, the hard sun of noon perfecting the chic summer decor. 

We picked up our luggages and went to the front door, Misa rang the doorbell while I twisted my fingers nervously, feeling so intimidated by meeting her closest friends. 

"¡Estan aquí! Ya voy!" I heard from behind the door. I stepped aside, half hiding behind the goalie as the door opened in front of us. 

Jennifer Hermoso was one hell of a woman, no, it was more than that, it felt like a hurricane was about to swept us both when Jenni saw us and jumped on her friend with many hugs and excited words of welcome. 

After what, she turned to me, so tall and muscled she could have been really intimidating if wasn’t for her large and warm smile. "Nicky! Por fin nos conocemos!" As Jenni hugged me eagerly, two other faces appeared in the door way. 

"Jenni, acaba de llegar, déjala respirar", said a blond sturdy woman who could be no one but the charismatic and famous Alexia Putellas. 

The third one, Laia Codina, added "La estás ahogando, Jenni."

But Misa interrupted the chatty women, "Hey… chicas, habla ingles porfi, Nicky entiende algunas frases pero no habla corramente español", and the three of them nodded in agreement before we followed them inside the villa.

"Nicky! So it is you who snatched the heart of our bromista Misa!" Jenni wave to me to come to the kitchen bar as she pulled a bottle of tequila from the cupboard. The other footballers quickly joined at fetching the different cocktail ingredients. 

I pulled a nervous smile "Yeah, it’s me. What does bromista means?" 

"It means prankster!" Laia exclaimed from across the kitchen. "Chicas, do you realize Misa la malota has found a girl ? How do you stand her, Nicky? Everybody here knows she’s disreputable." 

With a little smile on her lips, Misa huffed and rolled her eyes as she aligned five glasses in front of the striker, who was pouring tequila into a big shaker. 

"I’m keeping an eye on her", I said, looking proudly at the goalie leaning on the bar beside me, and I patted the top her head.

The three footballers simultaneously released a tenderized "Ohhhhh". 

"She’s the good one for you, Misa", said Alexia. 

"Yes, she hasn’t even argued with the fact that you’re a mean girl", Jenni pointed out.

"She’s got what you need, I say you should married her now", concluded Laia. 

That made me laugh, the nonsense of the three friends but especially the goalkeeper’s exasperated pout.

"I knew it was going to be like this…", Misa sighed, resigned. 

Jenni handed Misa a few limes, a knife and a juicer, "Exprima las limas, porfa. We wouldn’t let you get away without checking Nicky’s alright, we know you, Hermanita", she said before turning to me, "Nickita, swimming pool or city tour this afternoon?" 

"Pool’s great", I answered, too tired from the flight to really enjoy a long walk in town. 

I couldn’t suppress a yawn. "You want to take a nap? There is no rush", Misa asked me while putting the freshly pressed lime juice into the shaker. 

Laia and Alexia leant onto the bar and whispered to each other, peering at us mischievously. "She’s so soft when she’s talking to her"

"Lover Misa is back on board!"

"Look at her sparkling eyes!"

"¡Basta! Chicas!" Misa grumbled, "It’s getting annoying!" 

Jenni laughed, "You’re such a joke! You’d be doing ten times worst if you were in our position!" 

"You don’t know, I was never in that position", the goalie shrugged. 

Jenni precisely divided the shaken beverage between the glasses, handed each woman a cocktail and a friendly shove at the goalie.

"Sabes que te queremos Misa! Bienvenida a Nicky ! Salud Chicas, holidays has just started!" she said, lifting her glasses, and we joined her in a profusion of joyful exclamations.

***

Holidays weren’t just holidays. 

It took me a moment to realize I didn’t have to drop Misa’s hand or tear my eyes from hers as soon as I’d heard footsteps approaching. I didn’t have to abruptly stop a kiss like we often did when we’d snatch an intimate moment in the looker room. 

During the first days, I couldn’t be close to the goalie, the kind of closeness that means more than standing next to her, in front of her friends, jumping or twitching uncomfortably with the feeling of being observed. 

Misa, on her side, didn’t seem to have internalize our hiding habits. She often came to hug me or put a swift kiss on my lips every time she had the occasion, causing her infernal friends to gossip more each time. It was true Jenni, Alexia and Laia quickly made me feel confortable, mocking and teasing everyone like I had always been part of their groupe and even Jenni’s amused and tender look began to feel like a caring presence. 

A few days passed and I barely hided when my eyes devoured the goalie dripping body climbing out of the pool. I only tempered myself by modesty and to avoid being the target of new mockeries. The next day, the way I giggled when Misa pulled me on her lap while sun tanning even made me feel light, her mouth grazing my bare skin only a cute demonstration of affection. 

So slowly I got it, being here meant being free. 

I could feel being both her friend and lover when she would absentmindedly put her hand on my thigh, grab my waist when I’d passed by or whispered something silly in my ear as we chatted all together by the pool. We could hold hands when our little groupe wandered around the streets of Es Pujols. We could dance pressed together in a tender making out at the club, surrounded by people who didn’t give a damn about Real Madrid and who was kissing its goalkeeper. 

But the best part of it was to be with her, all day, all night, days after days. There were no goodbyes, no being appart, even for a day or so, no moments in between. Just moments with my girlfriend, living with my girlfriend and enjoying every little bit of it, from her burned morning toasts to her loud snores having me to put earplugs every nights. It was like an endless day off in Madrid where not only a city but a whole island stood ready for us to explore as a couple, surrounded by friends, with no other things in mind than planing our next cruise or booking a local speciality restaurant we wanted to try.

Being Misa’s girlfriend was easy and flowing like the waveless sea of Formentera. 

***

“ … and they found the guilty vein and burned it”, Misa finished, smiling mildly at my astonished expression.  

I reset my position on the stone bench, crossing my legs, the screeching of cicadas filling our last night on the island. “And it healed your tachycardia?” 

“Yes, I was healed and able to play football again!” she concluded with small laugh like going through conscient heart surgery at the age of thirteen was nothing more than buying bread. 

I was gagging, impressed by her courage at a young age and by the strength and determination it gave her since. "Woaw, I’m speechless. You already loved football back then".

"Football is my passion for life, I can’t live without it. Like… you couldn’t live without chocolate chips cookies".

I slapped her shoulder, "Tsss, silly girl! You’re just bummed because you can’t eat my biscuits!"

"No, I swear you have a problem with sweet food, Nicky! Your cupboards are always full of it! Like, your kitchen is stuffed with several boxes of the same biscuit, it looks like a shop!" Misa laughed, looking at me tenderly. 

"You never know what could happen, I don’t want to go hungry in the middle of the night and have nothing to eat…"

"It has never happened since we started dating. I’m telling you, you’re addicted to sugar! I should call you Azúcariño from now."

And Misa took me in her arms, love in her eyes so visible I blushed and was happy for the darkness of that part of the garden. "You would not!" I chuckled, moving a strayed strand of hair from her face. 

"I surely would, Azúcari."

The brunette was already laying small kisses all over my face, making me laugh more, something in me purring deliciously at the feel of being loved so much. 

"You’re so sweet, Mis’", I said wrapping my arms around her broad comforting shoulders. "You’re right, I’m addicted. You’re my dark chocolate chunky cookie, all strong and sweet". 

Misa and I simply looked fondly at each other a moment, the moonlight reflecting in our shiny eyes while my fingertips traced random shapes on her nap. Then, I softy pressed my lips on hers and we lost ourselves in a long kiss as music started to resound from afar. 

“Everything is ready!”

I startled at the sound of Jenni’s voice close by, followed by the rustling noise of leaves and the tall and lean silhouette of the striker appeared behind us. 

"Hola tortolitos! Stop your crap and join the party!"

"Party!" Misa jumped on her feet at once "Vamos Nicky, yeahhhh!", she screamed, running toward the house. 

Jenni and I both rolled our eyes. "Misa…", we giggled in synch. 

When we arrived near the pool, Misa was already dancing like a beast with Laia, both of them covering the song with their voice. Jenni was quick to join them while I preferred to go sit in a lounge chair beside Alexia, watching her three teammates with a motherly look. 

"They’re always wild", she laughed. 

"Yeah, they’re having so much fun", I agreed, my eyes not leaving the bouncing shape of Misa dancing and jumping excitedly while looking in turn at Jenni and Laia. 

"And you Nicky, are you having good holidays ?"

I sighed of ease, "Perfect". 

The footballer chucked lightly "Good, I’m happy for you two. I hope you’ll find a way about the work problem", Alexia added a bit awkwardly. 

My heart tightened. Of course Misa has told them about the clause. I was searching my mind about what to say when two large hands pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the dance floor.  

"You have to dance on this one, it’s Formentera de Aitana! So right on point!", Misa told me, hopping in place while pushing me in the middle of the dancing girls. Soon their spirit took me too and we all sang in a chaos of false notes. 

We danced for hours, song after song. Time didn’t seem to exist as the party stretched in the night, cocktails and beer refilled as soon as swallowed. 

"No! No! Misaaaa! Noooooo!", I screamed in vain as the goalkeeper heaved me in her arms and ran toward the swimming pool with little care for my protests. A second later, our bodies broke the water surface with a huge splash.

I regain my breath, spitting "Fuck you Mis’! I wanted to wear those shoes tomorrow! And you took yours off before jumping! » I yelled, mad at the sight of the abandoned white snickers beside the pool.

The goalie just laughed and pulled me close to her, the melodious notes of the music accompanied our bodies pressing against each other in the water.

"Te quiero a ti… let’s go upstairs, we’ll say we’re tired". The brunette softy said, knowing exactly how to make herself forgiven, and I shivered with the realisation of how badly I wanted her right now.

***

I pushed Misa against the bedroom mirror, her hair still wet from the pool sent droplets on the glass. Our room was in fair distance from the party, we had closed all the doors we could and the air was warm and loaded with humidity inside the villa. 

My fingers slipped under her drenched T shirt and rose along her spine to reach the hook of her bra. I pulled both of them off, took a step back to take in the half naked figure of the goalkeeper. A smug smile spread on Misa’s face as my look got heavier with desire. 

Her hands grasped her own short, she slowly pushed it down her ankle and stepped out of them. She dared stay there a moment, in front of the mirror, the reflection presenting to me her bare body from every angles. 

I reached out to her, pressing against her. “You’re fucking gorgeous...” I yelped on her lips and she led me onto the bed, laying on her back before swiftly pulling me over her. I chuckled at her eagerness, taking my top off as I straddled her.

“I was dying to do that for hours! You were so pretty on that bench...” she panted, working at undressing me as well. But she froze as she pulled my pantie down. “Uh, um, mierda... Nicky, you’re having your period..."

“What?! No!“ I moaned bitterly, jumping off her and heading to the bathroom. “Fucking shit! No!”.

Misa groaned from the bedroom “Madre mia! Not on our last night together!”

“I think I'm more frustrated that you!” I said, changing pantie and coming back to the bed. I sent her a pleading look before bending down toward her lips. I kissed them softly, felt my core already screaming for her touch and my stomach swirling lightly. “But I think I’m ok to take care of you all night long, then” I confessed, chuckling at my girlfriend fidgeting under me. 

The goalie let out a small whimper and closed her eyes as her fingers sunk in my hair. Still kissing her with passion, I slowly spread my legs, opening hers wide in the same movement. Misa released another whine and squirmed. I was aiming to work her up and we stayed like this a moment, depending our kiss and caressing.

The quickening rhythm of her breathing encouraged me to hold on. I sent a finger tracing the shape of her abs and felt her hips bucking over nothing. My palms brushed the insides of her tights, going, but very slowly, toward her intimacy. Her hips wiggled again, accompanied by a low moan. “Nicky... you want me to be as frustrated as you?” 

“Shh, just wet a little more for me” I teased, not really minding if she had get the play on the word as the young woman pulled my lips against her neck and sighed. I took my time to lick the soft skin there and ended by nipping her earlobe, sending a shiver along the goalkeeper’s wriggling body.

Lowering my hips, I spread her legs more and started to press against her powerful tights. The moves sent her body upward in little trusts, her intimacy still spread out and completely left alone. Misa’s brows were furrowed, lost in her longing as her arms ensnared my neck.

“Por qué me torturas así?” the brunette shuddered against my lips.  

It was my time to moan, the thought of arousing Misa beyond reason blowing my mind and setting my lower belly afire. I continued to grind on her more roughly as I pined both her hands onto the pillow. Her chest rose up as she arched, whining more, and presented itself irresistibly to me. 

I descended my mouth to graze at the flower tattooed between her breast. My lips found her nipple and sucked it gently. Her legs wrapped themselves around my hips as I eagerly licked her chest, turning both of us into a whining mess. The brunette legs were pressing on mine, desperate for a contact between them but I hold them wide apart and she finished by closing her eyes, her plump lips parting to let out frustrated whimpers.

My mouth ended her complaint, pushing my tongue between her teeth and my fingers between her legs. Her jaw dropped as she released a long sigh of relief. Misa was drenched, having me panting with delight and I waisted no time before gathering her wetness on my fingers tips to coat her lips and slide easily on her core. Her pelvis moved along with my fingers. She had buried her face in the side of my neck, her mouth on my ear allowed me to perceive every sounds of her jerky breathing, making my hairs bristle and my brain dizzy with want.

When I stared to move in circles on her clit, the woman moans turned into tormented cries. She squirmed again, her pelvis pressing more against my hand and sliding my fingers downer. 

Getting where Misa wanted me most, I tried to settle better over her body when I heard her whiny voice in my ear. “The strap we brought, in the drawer facing the bed… I want you… llévame”

I moaned, her demand spreading goosebump over my all body, and rose up at once to retrieve the precious item. I opened the drawer, searching at the back of it, my hand falling on a suggestive shape wrapped in a silky black fabric and I swiftly pulled out a purple toy and a harness. 

Misa stretched lasciviously as she watched me put on the harness, securing the toy in it and coming back onto the bed over her. Her hooded eyes kept looking up at me expectantly, yet her moves directed my body over her, guiding my hips until the end of the strap rubbed against her core. The sexual tension between us was so strong it was palpable as we continued to stare in each other eyes, our breath rasping and our hips moving in anticipation. 

I led the strap downer to line it up with her entrance. “listo?” I preferred to ask, making sure she was still willing to take it. 

Misa nodded and enfold me with her arms as I began to push very slowly. The goalie winced at the stretch, her grasp tightening around my shoulders. “Are you alright?” I checked. 

“Sí” she sighted, “Bésame, Nicky.” 

I obeyed immidialaty, kissing the corner of her mouth while pushing further inside. Misa’s mouth fell open. A particularly loud cry filled the bedroom, her back arching when my hips met her pelvis. I waited for her to get used to the feel, our face pressed together in a tender making out, and pulled out softy. Her hands racked randomly on my back, holding me closer as I plunged the strap again and I started to make love to her. 

I slightly quickened the pace, Misa whined louder, her hips accompanying the new rhythm. As she arched more, her head fell back onto the pillow, her arms going up and her fingers digging into it. My nose grazed the crook of her exposed neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

I was beyond the point of excitement, feeling something hot and swollen growing inside me as my love for Misa seemed to overflowed all around us, bonding us more than the strap between our legs. I felt the toy going in less easily, guessed she was tightening around it and I slowed down. The rhythm less demanding, my glance rested on her face, her blissed out features were more than I could take in. 

A high pitch moan escaped my lips. Misa opened her eyes, two dark pools reflecting my own craving. I couldn’t suppress a strangle yelp as something burst inside of me. My hips pressed against her pelvis as my body shivered under the uncommonly soft and fluttering orgasm that took over me. It felt different, less intense than coming at touching but it lasted as I stayed unmoving, buried inside of her. 

I paused a moment, my lips brushing her cheeks, breathing out my pleasure and emotions, before resuming my trusts inside and out. As soon as I moved again, her whines resounded in the bedroom, higher pitched, almost pleading now. Combined with the way her fingers sunk in my flesh, I could tell she was close and I started to pound harder and faster.

This time Misa fell silent. I felt the small blows of her breast on my face, erupting from her mouth each time I pushed my strap back inside. Her pretty features were frown hard, dying for a release, her all body clinging to the toy, her tights starting to tremble as I filled her again and again.

“Dios mio! ” She cried. I was panting now as I felt her clenching again. My forearms supporting my own weight were becoming shaky but I hold on, trying to keep a steady pace. I grasp her muscled shoulders, burring my face in her neck, knowing she could hear how insanely turned on I was by making love to her like that. 

A long cry escaped her soft lips, her brows furrowing more before relaxing completely when a last thrust pushed her over the edge. She yelled again and again, louder every time, her body wiggling with enjoyment under mine as her embrace tightened madly on me, locking me there when I wouldn't have moved an inch away from her. 

Her whimpering lasted, quieter now, and she loosened her grip. I pulled out of her and took the harness off. I dropped myself at her side, crawling back to her face. My heart was drumming in my chest with efforts and emotions as I kissed her cheek, my palms stroking her shivering body with all the tenderness I could. “I love you so much.” I sighed, feeling my eyes burning at the sight of her, crumbling with pleasure. 

Misa rolled toward me, her breathing was still shaky and her eyes shut tight as she nested her face against my chest. “Humm, love you Nicky” she whispered, her lips slightly trembling. “You make me feel so good, and safe.” 

I pressed her body closer, not baring the tiniest space between us, my heart bursting under my overwhelming feelings. Misa’s words felt like a gift nobody had ever give me… A few tears fell from my eyes before I knew what was happening, dripping on the goalie resting in my arms. 

She looked up at once, tender a first, then lost when she saw I was crying.

“It’s alright” I smiled, my voice heavy with my emotions, “I’ve never felt that way with anybody… you’re so special Misa, and you make me feel special too.”

Misa’s fingers delicately wiped the tears off my face, her lips pressing on my temple. “You’re going deeper than the strap…” the goalie’s chuckled, her own eyes shiny. 

I didn’t know for how long we stayed like this but we had fallen asleep for a long time when our bodies finally parted. When the light woke me up in the middle of the night, I realized we hadn’t pulled the curtain, the full moon high and bright in the cloudless sky. Tomorrow, each of us would return to their families for the rest of holidays. Misa and I would not see each other for three weeks.

I went back to bed after having closed the curtains, pressing my face between her shoulder blades and I started drifting back to sleep, her snores welcomed tonight, knowing that I was going to missed even that in a few days.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[goxjo]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 ♥︎

⟢ ┈ ﹒꒰ the morning after your first time with him, he’s not quite finished with you FT. gojo, nanami, geto, naoya, toji x fem! reader ꒱

AUTHOR’S NOTE. yeah, this could end up being very sweet or very horny. either way, please mind the warnings uwu. also, gojo’s is longer than the rest just bc <3

CONTENT. explicit smut, some sprinkles of fluff, eepy jjk men. ♡ gojo ♡ pet name: baby, princess, cuddling, early morning banter, frottage, v! fingering. ♡ nanami ♡ food cw, he wears a cute lil apron and you show up wearing only his shirt, v! fingering. ♡ geto ♡ pet name: angel, morning wood, early morning stretch, daddy kink. ♡ naoya ♡ pet name: kitten, consensual somnophilia, cunnilingus, kinda rough, squirting in his mouth sorry not sorry <3 ♡ toji ♡ pet name: sweetheart, consensual somnophilia, waking him up by giving head, 69.

LINKS. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST

♥︎ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ♥︎

ੈ♡‧₊˚ GOJO SATORU

“Satoru, can I tell you something?” You lightly trace your finger down his face. The tips of his eyelashes feel ridiculously soft to the touch, not to mention his glossy lips- ones that have explored your own and your body so thoroughly just a few hours ago, you’ve memorized its shape at this point. His mouth slightly opens when you graze his bottom lip with your thumb. Through his pearly white teeth, warm breath fans the tip of your finger as his chest rises and falls in sync with his light snoring.

“Hm?” For the first time, you’re hit with his raspy morning voice - one you can definitely find yourself getting used to. He catches your hand, peppering lazy, half-asleep kisses at the back of it. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just- I’m insanely attracted to you, that’s all,” you whisper and his eyes light up at the sudden confession. You haven’t been together long so you saying something like this out of the blue is more than enough to take him aback. Next thing you know, big strong arms wrap around you, piling your weight on top of him.

“This feels nice,” he breathes, sleep finding its way back to his eyes, and you can feel his breaths slow down as he drifts off again.

Flick. “Hey, wake up. Need to hear that voice again.” You lightly flick a finger to his forehead and his eyes flutter open for a few seconds. But that wasn’t enough to fully wake him.

“Can’t. You’re so warm. So soft,” he mutters, tightening his grip around you. He shifts a little, trying to nestle the back of his head into his pillow as he shuts his eyes. “Could stay like this all day long.”

You lean closer to his face, studying his sleeping profile. How could anyone be this perfect? Most people wake up with bed heads, dried up drool on their chin, troll-like attitude, and crusty eyes. Not Gojo Satoru. He’s an angel. He wakes up in the morning looking as if he had a 30-minute head start to his daily skincare routine. As if he even needs one.

“Sooo soft,” he mutters once more, squeezing your sides.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news you big pervert but you have to get ready for class.”

“Wrong!” He jolts awake. “That’s not something someone ‘insanely attracted’ to me would say.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I’m insanely attracted to you as well, and I say ‘5 more minutes’. Actually, make that an hour.”

You try to brush off his comment, pretending as if heat didn’t just rush to your cheeks at what you’d call a poor attempt at banter. A lie, because of course he’s an expert. “Come on you big baby. Wake up.”

“45 minutes, baby.” A big hand reaches underneath your shirt, soothing your bare back.

“Think you’re being slick, huh?”

“Mmm, shut up and come closer.”

“15 minutes?” you suggest, legs straddling his sides, pussy grinding on his half-hard cock as you draw hearts on his jaw, his hands finding their way to your bare ass.

“Hmm, 30.” He groans and you feel his cock twitch underneath, his hands grabbing the fat of your ass.

“You’re a bad negotiator- mmf.” You purr when he spreads your ass, walls clenching at the slight stretch.

“The worst. So, 30? Actually no. 30 is a done deal if you throw in a little kiss.”

“Deal—”

“On second thought…” his fingers slide down your folds, your mouth pops into an ‘o’ and you know for sure you’re done for the second he slides two digits into your slippery hole. “How ‘bout we make it 30 minutes after round 2?”

You’re definitely going to have to stay in all morning.

ੈ♡‧₊˚ NANAMI KENTO

A wave of confusion hits you when you’re awoken by the sound of something that dropped in a pan, aroma of something frying filling the room. Your eyes dart to the door slightly left open and you’re suddenly aware of the empty space beside you.

You try to look for the clothes you discarded last night but they’re nowhere to be found. So of course, you go for the next best thing.

Coming into the kitchen, you’re met with your partner’s broad and bare back, and your eyes immediately dart to the white lace-trimmed ribbon tied around his waist.

Clad only in pajama pants and that frilly little apron you gifted him as a joke, one that has a pretty pink ‘kiss the chef’ embroidered text at the front, Nanami is way too preoccupied with preparing breakfast for two.

You whistle in a way that’s too flirty for his comfort. Nanami looks over his shoulder, eyes trailing your form up and down, staring way too long at where his signature blue button-down ends just slightly above your upper thighs.

“Careful, your hashes are about to burn.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, completely turning off the heat as he makes his way towards you.

“You’re not gonna finish that? Aren’t you going to—” he doesn’t let you finish when he captures your mouth, pulling you into a deep kiss. His hands reach underneath the hems of your (his) shirt, finding your slick folds before pumping you silly with two of his fingers.

“Nope, I’m suddenly craving something else. Sit on the counter, now.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ GETO SUGURU

You’re woken up by the sound of an alarm. Looking at the clock, it reads ‘7:00 am’ and you’re surprised to find a heavy arm around your waist and something hard pressed up against your ass.

You shift to turn off his alarm, to which Geto’s eyebrows furrow, protesting over your sudden escape from his hold. “Come back here,” he groans, voice a tad deeper than his usual key, swiftly pulling you close to his bare chest.

“You sound so sexy,” you whisper, planting lazy kisses on his nose and on his lips, his erection leaking something warm on your stomach.

“Really? You sounded sexier last night. Need to hear you screaming my name again, angel.” He reaches down, knuckles sliding across your slit as you feel his fist pumping his cock at the same time. For the first time, you’re oriented with what mornings with Geto are like.

The head of his cock runs through your slick folds before finding your hole. You purr at the friction as he enters you, giving a whole new meaning to ‘early morning stretches.’

“Ohh, ohh~” you hum. Your core grows heavy with need, forcing you to try to bounce on his cock, clit grinding against his abdomen as you hold onto his bicep.

“So impatient.” Geto chuckles at your eagerness. “Want daddy to pay attention to your clit?”

“Daddy, daddy, n-need you to move pleasepleaseplease,” you whine. He hooks your leg around his waist, fingers digging into the fat of your ass as he bottoms out.

“Good morning to you too.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ NAOYA ZEN’IN

You think maybe you’re having one of those dreams. The best kind- one where a warm, wet muscle runs across your puffy slit before sliding in and out of your hole. It feels so hot, so good. Too hot, too good, you feel an orgasm coming-

“Fuuuck,” you cuss breathily, whines choking back a wake up yawn, and your body arches to the sensation in your pussy in place of an early morning stretch. Your eyes blink away the sleep in your eyes. Looking down, you find that black and white head of hair you love so much in between your thighs. And he doesn’t stop devouring your pretty cunt even as you mewl through your high. “Fuck, baby, fuck me!”

It’s real and it’s definitely his tongue sucking on your throbbing clit, definitely his thick fingers relentlessly fucking your wet velvet walls, definitely your pussy squelching from how good his tongue and fingers play with you at this ungodly hour.

“Grrood, mm-you’re-mm-awake,” he talks as if he’s speaking to your pussy, unwilling to part from your sweet little cunt even for a second. He was also like this last night. He told you the taste of your pussy is so damn fucking intoxicating, he could eat you up like a three-course-meal.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop!” Your fingers rake through his locks, making him use his teeth on your pussy just because he knows how much you like it when he gets rough. He feels so good going down on you like this, you just can’t help but squeeze his head between your thighs.

“Babybabybaby, fuuuuck- shit!” You feel your pussy twitch two or three times before he gulps, and with his lips still glued to your pussy, you could feel him release a deep chuckle at how much you came undone. Worry washes all over you, heat rising to your face when you realize what you’d done.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You taste heavenly kitten, do it again.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ FUSHIGURO TOJI

Toji wakes up to an all-familiar feeling around his cock, something that wasn’t uncommon before he had you but now that it is you and your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, one arm propped on his thigh for dear life-

“God, I fucking love you.”

He absolutely adores the sight of your head in the morning bobbing up and down his hard length, ass perked, other hand struggling to play with your cunt.

“C’mere and turn around sweetheart. Show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

Ass still perked, only now it’s dangerously close to his face. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, stretching your juicy, clenching entrance and huffing out hot air before he drags out his tongue to lick stripes on your cunt.

“Rrmfh~” Your mewls are muffled as you’re gagged with the head of his cock. The feeling of his tongue on your pussy tickles something in you that makes you suck on his cock, releasing a pop when your mouth leaves his length.

“Ohh~ T-toji baby-fuck-let’s cum together.”

“So fucking needy.” Toji kisses your clit a couple times before making out with your lips. He alternates between nipping the sensitive bud with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue, driving you insane while your own mouth is stuffed full of his cock.

“I rarely have breakfast, but this is a nice little treat.”

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[loserboysandlithium]

Sexual Healing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader faking an orgasm with Eddie because she’s too in her head and her anxiety is through the roof. Eddie notices and helps ground her in a very unique way.

18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content, mentions of anxiety and using the five senses to ground yourself

****

“Did you just... did you just fake it?” Eddie’s eyes go wide as you toss your head back into the pillow with a groan.

“Did it not feel good? Was I doing something wrong?” Eddie asks, his fingers trailing up and down your arm lightly.

“It’s not you, baby.” you sigh, peeking at him through your lashes. “I’m just in my head. Too many thoughts.. I don’t know. I’m sorry baby.” you whisper, embarrassment creeping up quickly.

“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he presses gently.

“Just too much.” you reply, shutting your eyes once again. You hated when your brain got like this. So many thoughts. So many emotions. Just so fucking much. You just wanted to turn them all off.

You suddenly feel Eddie’s body weight on top of you. An instant calm rushing over you. Not fully quieting the thoughts, but pushing them further away. You open your eyes to see his deep brown ones looking at you carefully.

“Stay right here. Don’t move!” he grins before jumping off of you. Your body feels empty again, the bad thoughts clawing their way back in immediately. You just want to scream at them to shut up. You can feel the bubbles in your chest building and building like a soda bottle that’s been shaken up, just waiting to explode.

You hear something in the distance. You know it’s Eddie’s record player but it sounds so far away, your thoughts louder than anything else in this moment.

The lights shut off, only the flicker of a candle illuminating the room. And then you feel him again. His soft skin on yours. The beautiful feeling of his body pressing you into the mattress.

He leans down, his soft lips barely brushing yours before moving to your cheek. Soft kisses until his lips meet your ear. “Close your eyes, sweet girl.” he breathes, his voice soothing and warm.

You allow your eyes to fall shut once again, listening to Eddie’s instructions. “What do you feel baby?” he mumbles into your neck as he continues planting wet kisses up and down.

“Y-your lips.”

“And how does it feel?”

“Feels so good, Eddie.” you breathe, doing your best to focus on the feeling of his lips sucking your soft skin.

“Mmm, and what do you hear?”

“Music… Marvin Gaye. You hate Marvin Gaye, baby.”

“Mhmm, but you don’t.” he chuckles against your lips before kissing you once again.

His kiss is harder this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth, urgent but also very delicate. You focus on his kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, whimpering as he pulls away.

“What do you taste?”

“Weed. Camel blues and… jolly ranchers?” you giggle as he sticks his tongue out, a light blue from the candy coating the entire thing.

“Blue raspberry.” he smiles before he starts to move lower. His lips travel across your breasts, small kisses before his lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking. You let out a soft moan as you reach out, running your fingers through his curls.

“What do you smell, baby?” he continues his efforts to bring you back to the present moment.

“Pine trees. The candle I bought you for your birthday.” you answer as his lips work even lower.

“Good girl.” Eddie winks up at you, making your stomach flip.

You feel his large hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing your legs apart, pressing a kiss to the top of your pussy. You let out a soft moan in response. You realize you can hear the music now, louder than before. Actually hearing the words.

Oh I can tell you, darling, that it's sexual healing.

“And what do you see, sweetheart?” Eddie soothes, dipping his tongue inside, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit and back again.

“You baby, only you.” you whimper. Eddie’s plan to ground you had worked perfectly. The only thing on your mind was him. The pleasure you were receiving below.

His lips wrap around your clit, tugging the sensitive bud into his mouth over and over making your moans grow louder.

You grip his curls, shoving his face deeper into your cunt making him moan into you. You can feel how wet you are, all of your worries floating away with every flick of his tongue.

He switches his tempo, taking his time, his tongue seeming to reach every part of you as he laps at your soaked pussy. Long strokes up and down before he’s shoving it as deep as possible making your back arch.

“Yes, baby. Fuck yes.” you encourage him to fuck you with his tongue. His nose brushes against your clit perfectly as he darts his tongue in and out of you. You can feel it twisting and swirling around, being coated with your slick as he watches your pretty face.

You begin bucking your hips, grinding your pussy on his face. His thick fingers dig into your skin as he allows you to use him for your pleasure. “Don’t stop until you cum, baby. Ride my fucking face.” he groans before he’s back between your thighs.

You don’t even know what part of him is inside you at this point, what’s rubbing against your clit so deliciously. His nose, his chin, his tongue. It didn’t matter, it all felt so good.

Your eyes are shut tight as both hands cling to his hair, your hips rutting up against him desperately. Filthy moans and cries pour from your lips as you cover Eddie with your wet pussy.

“Gonna cum.. Eddie I’m gonna cum.” you cry out, feeling his hands on your ass, helping you as you practically hump is face. Eddie’s moans are audible even with his mouth working hard to bring you to your peak.

Your voice cracks, a strangled moan forcing its way from your throat as you feel your body let go. All the built up tension breaking free, leaving your body in a way you didn’t expect.

You hips jolt against Eddie’s face a few more times as he does his best to lap up your cum. You can feel it running down your ass, a sticky sweet mess.

Your back falls back to the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Eddie’s tongue cleaning up your mess, his lips kissing the insides of your thighs before pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit.

“Holy shit.” you giggle as he comes back up to meet your eyes.

“Feel better?” he grins, his face glistening from his job well done.

“So much better.” you breathe, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself all over his tongue. “And thank you, baby.”

“For what?” Eddie murmurs as he buries his face in your neck.

“For always grounding me.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you so much, Eds.” you smile up at him. “By the way, I’m telling all your friends you fucked me to Marvin Gaye.”

“You wouldn’t.” Eddie gasps dramatically, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Oh but I would.”

[angelfic]

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

© angelfic 2023.

[zhongrin]

festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

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