#x eternity awaits x

[almightyelectro]

@trailblczed asked:

hands the ma'am some yumyum [S'MORES]

x x x

'...How strange...' The archon stares, bewildered, at the food that's been handed to her. It was like nothing she had ever seen before-- two graham crackers, chocolate...and then something gooey in between. When she pokes it, it's hot, almost molten.

It almost reminds her of mochi...

Slowly she brings the confection to her lips, taking one small bite-- only for her eyes to light up as the taste of pure sugar hits her tongue.

"This is...delicious. Tell me, what do you call this again?" She turns to the boy who had given it to her in the first place, looking at him expectantly for an answer.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Succession

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

“Behold, the traitor dragon, Meleys. Slain by King Aegon.”

Cole might’ve bellowed anything before the mention of Y/N’s husband and she would not have heard it. Breaching the castle doors, out onto the streets, where the smallfolk stare in wonder. The Queen has scarcely been seen in the days following her husband’s accession, leaving many to wonder if she still lives.

Here she stands, in the flesh, walking about them like a commoner. “Where is Aegon?” She finds Ser Criston, keeping pace beside his horse.

“You mustn’t be about, your grace. It is not safe.”

“Where is my husband?”

Ser Gwayne looks back toward his fallen nephew, now carried by men.

“No,” Y/N shakes her head, falling in line with the oversized box one might mistake for a casket. She can’t see much of anything through the slats.

“You must return to the castle, my Queen.” Cole circles back for her. “His Grace will need you at his side.”

“He’s alive?” Y/N breathes.

“When last I checked.”

She nods, remaining beside her husband as he is carted into the castle, up the stairs to his chambers. The maesters await him, peeling away armor and bits of charred flesh with it, to reveal the extent of his injuries.

“Is my son going to die?” Alicent asks.

“He is badly burned.” The maester informs the Queen dowager.

“Men survive burns.” Y/N says, holding a hand to her belly, attempting to quell the churning.

“He has many broken bones.”

“Bones heal.”

The grand maester sighs, “that is our hope, your grace.”

What lies beneath his breastplate is naught but more red, angry skin, or lack there of. Alicent comes round to Y/N, a rare occasion, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Mayhaps it is best you step away.”

“I will stay,” Y/N shakes her head, “if anything happens… I must stay.” Hold his hand as he goes, if it comes to it.

Alicent nods, withdrawing.

Aegon’s breathing is something awful. Men survive burns. Bones heal.

An eternity passes in that room, on bated breath. Eventually the maesters begin clearing out, leaving the King to mutter, incoherently.

“Your grace.” The grand maester turns to Y/N. “It is done.”

“Thank you, Grand Maester. For all you have done, I- I owe you a debt.”

The man takes her hand, “we can only do so much to aid in the king’s healing, I believe it is you he needs. Be his strength.”

Y/N nods, “of course.” She makes herself comfortable upon the mattress beside him as the doors close, giving them a moment alone.

Aegon’s mumblings grow louder, though still impossible to make sense of.

“Shhh,” Y/N hushes him, brushing hair from his face. “There is nothing to fear. You need only…get better for me. I will tend the council shortly, but I shall return.”

He quiets then, as though her gentle reassurance is all he wanted.

“I will not abandon you. Not now, not ever. Rest easy, my love. You are safe now.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, before taking the stairs down to join the small council.

Those sitting around the table are already in deep discussion, gaping at the Queen’s entrance, standing to greet her.

“So kind of you to wait for me, my lords.” Y/N smiles, taking her ball from the center.

“We thought you might be with his grace, the king.” The hand explains. “He will be expecting you when he wakes.”

“I am not sure he will ever wake.” The grand maester cuts in. “His fate lies with the gods now.”

“Give it time.” Y/N sniffs, “it has been mere hours since his return.”

“If Aegon could wake, he would have done so for you.” Alicent decides. “A king cannot rule in his sleep, we must appoint a regent to serve in his absence.”

“I am awake.” Y/N reminds them.

“My Queen,” Tyland Lannister interjects, “if I may be so bold. Your lord husband has been wounded in battle, he will need your tender hand if we hope him to make any sort of recovery.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Lord Tyland.” Y/N replies, in a measured tone. Should she lose her head before the council, there will be no coming back from it. “Still, I am willing and able to rule.”

“In the event of his grace’s untimely death, we must be prepared to proceed with the succession.”

“Understandably, and we do not lack heirs. My husband and I have four children.” Y/N shifts in her chair. “Assuming, as you have, that the men of the realm will never accept a woman on the throne, we then pass the crown to our first born son.” To charm the snakes, you must behave as a snake.

The council looks to each other. “Prince Laenor is but two years of age, our next ruling king, by law; though too young to presently serve.”

“I will advise him, I am his mother.”

Alicent rises from her seat, “might I humbly suggest myself? I have already done so during my late husband’s long illness-”

“Which was fine then?” Y/N arches a brow, “a wife to rule in her husband’s absence.”

Alicent lowers her gaze. “This is different.”

“Because I am your enemy’s daughter and named heir,” Y/N huffs. “Rules for thee, not for me. Isn’t that right?”

“Mind yourself.”

“Or what?” Y/N lifts a shoulder, “you will usurp my husband, as you did my mother?”

“Viserys changed his mind.” Alicent says, with finality. “I am sorry for what’s happened, but with his dying breath, he wished for Aegon to be king. I pray you do not hear a similar whisper from your husband anytime soon.”

“I love my husband,” Y/N seethes, “let that be known.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

“Whatever the members of this council intend to do now will be spoken plainly, in my presence.” Y/N demands, staring down at her wedding ring.

“I believe it is in our best interest to appoint Prince Aemond as Regent, until our King has been restored.” Ser Criston announces, “as hand, I know the king’s greatest concern is the safety and well being of his wife and children. We must honor that, in these unprecedented times.”

Y/N swallows, “very well.”

“My Queen.” Aemond reaches past her for the council ball, abandoned by her husband.

————————————————————————

Y/N goes through the motions, putting their children to bed. All is well, my darlings. Father needs only rest. When they have each found sleep, she returns to Aegon. Speaking to him the same way she always has, as though he can hear.

“The men of the council are restless in your absence. They circle like vultures now,” Y/N chokes out, touching the unmarred skin of his face. “And I am alone in this….I have never been alone.”

If she knew no better, she could swear his fingers twitch against hers. Mayhaps she is gripping them too tightly. She releases his hand, much to Aegon’s dismay, grumbling his discontent.

“Hush now, I am here and you are here. The rest will sort,” Y/N reminds him.

She watches him then, the heaving rise and fall of his chest, wrapped in bandages. Men survive burns. Bones heal.

In time, Alicent joins her at Aegon’s side. “Has there been any change?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head.

“You are kind to be here, he loves nothing in the world as he loves you. I am sure your presence alone is a comfort to him.”

“That is my hope,” Y/N admits.

“I will leave you to it.” Alicent offers a hint of a smile, making for the door.

“Mummy.”

Y/N hears it, his mother does not. “Alicent,” she calls her back.

Alicent flicks away tears before turning round, “what is it?”

“He’s asking for you.”

“F-for me?”

Y/N nods, giving his hand a squeeze.

Alicent returns to his bedside, passing a hand over the side of his face. “I’m here.”

He draws in a rattling breath, “protect her.” Aegon stumbles over the words. “Please, Mummy.”

Y/N inhales sharply, hushing him.

Alicent locks eyes with her daughter by law. I pray you do not hear a similar whisper from your husband anytime soon. “I will do this, for you, Aegon. You needn’t worry.”

Aegon says nothing else, succumbing to sleep once more.

Alicent excuses herself, with a nod.

Y/N muffles the sound of her cries in the hand which isn’t holding his. She’s only half awake by the time she hears footfall and whispering at the end of her husband’s bed.

“Was it worth the price?” Helaena asks.

“I’ve no idea what you mean, my darling.” Aemond mutters, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Part 2

[astraystayyh]

Breathe

hyunjin x photographer!reader. friends to lovers with so so much tension and pining. hyunjin is too pretty (yet again). suggestive in the end and reader is wearing a dress. inspired by Bathtub hyunjin.

thank you hyunjin yet again for being my eternal muse and inspiring this brainrot. wrote this while listening to All mine by plaza so.. please enjoy <333 feedback is highly appreciated 🫶🏻

Is it possible to drown in the depths of your emotions, until breathing becomes a forgotten process, one that eludes each one of your senses?

Yes, you believe, if standing before a vision of ethereal beauty, as you are now, all encapsulated within Hwang Hyunjin’s being.

The camera slightly shakes in your grasp as you linger by the threshold of the bathroom, eyeing Hyunjin’s silhouette submerged in the waters. He’s sitting inside the bathtub, fingers running through his raven locks, awaiting your return.

He doesn’t seem to notice your presence, nor do you wish him to. Instead, you remain silent by the door, allowing yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating aura he exudes.

See, he isn’t doing anything particular, nor is he adorned in anything enticing— a simple white shirt and matching linen pants. And yet, his presence fills the air, compelling oxygen particles to flee from your being, leaving you transfixed, unable to do anything but gaze at him.

“I can feel you staring,” he remarks casually, his eyes still drawn before him as he leans back, tapping the edge of the tub with his ring-clad fingers.

Your heart pulses against your ribs, a dance that the organ knows intimately by now, one that Hyunjin alone can orchestrate. It isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, it is a familiar territory you first breached when Minho introduced you to him.

Hyunjin is a friend, but his hands find your waist more times than deemed platonic, and you like his touch much more than you’d like to admit.

“I'm assessing my subject, you know?” A faint grin dances upon your lips as you approach the bathtub. Hyunjin is doing you a favor— you just booked your first photography gig, and your client only has one condition: to shoot it in a bathtub. You wanted to translate your vision to life beforehand, and Hyunjin volunteered to help you.

“And how do I look?” he inquires, his smile a sugary dream that coaxes forth his left dimple. You place your camera gently on the countertop, bending down to inspect him up close.

His eyelids glisten with the golden glitter you delicately applied earlier. His skin is dewy, glistening underneath the warm lightning, and his lips drip crimson, courtesy of the cherry chapstick you carefully tapped into place.

There is always a myriad of visions that come to your mind when you think of Hyunjin— a blazing fire where each flame surges higher towards the heavens, a burning dance of passion and confidence; or a delicate red rose standing resilient in an empty field, vulnerable yet unwavering in its strength.

And now, you see a siren, beckoning mortals with a voice of beauty, ensnaring them with its hypnotic allure, much like he captivates you in this moment.

“You look nice,” you settle on saying, and he playfully pouts, his thumb grazing against your wrist lightly, akin to the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wing. “That's it? You never compliment me properly.”

“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” you shrug, grabbing a dozen of roses and scattering them all around his body. You nod, satisfied with the outcome, finally retrieving your camera.

“Let's start with a simple shot, look at the camera, as you would when seducing someone.”

Instead of looking at the lens, Hyunjin's gaze finds yours first. With a deliberate slowness, his eyes trace the contours of your form, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His pupils dilate, his gaze darkens, before he reluctantly tears his eyes away, finally shifting his focus to the camera.

it takes you a few beats longer to find your voice once again.

“Hold still, one… two… three,” you murmur, capturing a few shots, pausing for a few seconds to admire the warmth of the light bouncing off his honeyed skin. “Perfect.”

“Me or the picture?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll yours in response.

“The photographer.”

“You’re right, you're perfect,” he replies simply, and you're momentarily taken aback, your eyes widening slightly. He notices, a small smile playing on his lips as you grab his hand to adjust his pose.

“You aren't allowed to speak anymore,” you declare, guiding his index finger to his lips while his head rests on his other curled fist. He grins, before his expression morphs into a smoldering gaze, one that blankets your skin in hues of red from its sheer intensity.

“Look at me this time,” you instruct, and he nods obediently, directing his gaze towards you. Though your eyes remain fixed on the lens, you can sense the intensity of his gaze piercing through you—suddenly, the white dress you're wearing feels too sheer to contain the flames ignited by his stare.

“Mm,” you hum in approval as you look at the result. A sweet realization washes over you as you notice the subtle shift in his gaze— does he know his eyes unconsciously soften when they land on you?

With each click of the camera, your nerves dissipate, replaced by a growing confidence as each shot turns out exquisitely. They look worthy of gracing billboards worldwide, a privilege of working with a model as beautiful as him, one who portrays emotions as if they were crafted solely for him to feel.

“Good, let's try an overhead shot now,” you instruct, slinging the camera strap around your neck before climbing into the bathtub, legs on either side of his body. You’re hovering over him as he gazes up at you, his fluttering eyelashes echoing the erratic beat of your heart.

Your eyes briefly trace the contours of his now-translucent white shirt, a veil that delicately clings to his form, accentuating the sculpted lines of his physique—the arc of his v-line melding seamlessly into the fabric of his trousers. He possesses the body of a masterful dancer, a muse Michelangelo himself would have revered.

“Take off your shirt,” you suddenly request, and though your words are met with a quirked eyebrow, he obliges effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he peels the garment from his frame, sending it sailing across the bathroom's expanse.

“Good?” he questions but you remain silent because words have suddenly become beyond your grasp. Your client's request for a portrait suddenly feels inadequate and you almost itch to cancel it, because you know it won't exude the same beauty as Hyunjin’s. For each fiber of his being flusters you, makes you hyper aware of your every pulse point and how they all come together to chant Hyunjin’s name.

“Look up at me as you lean back,” you finally say, positioning the camera directly above his head. With each click, your heartbeat speeds up even more at the sight— collarbones and arms bathed in the play of light and shadow, his long, wet hair cascading over broad shoulders, and worse of all, a faint smirk that graces his placid face, as if he's aware of how breathtaking he looks in this moment.

“Should I do this?” he asks, picking up a rose and brushing its dewy petals against his lips. You swallow hard, nodding meekly before swiftly capturing a few more frames.

Emotions twist you into a peculiar being, yearning for your very soul to liquefy, transforming into the water droplets adorning the rose's petals, longing to caress Hyunjin’s lips too.

Hyunjin suddenly straightens his posture, hands coming to rest gently on your calves, fingers dancing along the hems of your dress with a delicate touch.

“How’d I do? Do I look good for you?” he asks and your knees weaken beneath you, his words rendering you a merciless leaf, swayed by the fiery winds he commands, with his words, with his touch, with his eyes, all solely on you.

“For me?” you echo, and he nods, his hand moving languidly up and down your leg, pausing delicately at your knee.

“Mm. You're the only one I want to impress.”

Your response escapes your being breathlessly. “And why is that?”

“Didn't you ask me not to speak?” he grins, running a hand through his hair. Swiftly, you place your camera on the counter before kneeling down, your thighs now brushing against his own.

“Speak,” you command, and in an instant, he seizes your waist, drawing your body close until you're straddling him, legs enveloping his middle.

“Say it again,” he whispers, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair, gently tugging at the edges until his head tilts back, exposing the expanse of his neck.

“I said…” you trail off, leaning in until your nose grazes the warmth of his skin.

Being this close to Hyunjin isn't unfamiliar to you; your interactions have always teetered on the brink of almost-kisses, your bodies drawn together like magnets, two halves of an orange yearning to reunite.

Yet, this moment feels different, much more fateful, as if the universe has granted you one final opportunity—to finally ignite in passion or perish into ash.

“Tell me. I want to know,” you urge, your voice a whisper against his skin, laden with unspoken desires.

“Because... I like you a lot. So much that you're the only one I think of all day. And I want you to like me too. I feel like I need it to breathe.”

His response catches you off guard with its vulnerability, the intimacy it drapes on this moment. The water envelops your intertwined bodies as your hands find solace atop his chest, his rapid heartbeat seeping into your palm.

“I always forget how to breathe around you,” you confess, a sheepish smile gracing your lips. The grin that blooms on his face is radiant, casting a glow on the room that cannot be replicated by artificial lighting.

“If you forget how to breathe, I'll give you all my oxygen,” he promises, his thumb tracing gently across your cheekbones. You see the sun in his smile, feel its warmth in his words that burn you. “I think it always belonged to you anyway,” he murmurs, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I think... I wanna give you back what's yours. Would you let me, pretty?” he asks, his voice a tender plea.

And amidst all the planets you know and the countless universes that may exist, you cannot fathom a single one where your answer would be anything but yes.

“Please,” you whisper, and his lips crash against yours in a fervent dance.

Your lips part before swiftly meeting again, and you close your eyes, surrendering to a world where all your senses converge to breathe Hyunjin in—your hands exploring the contours of his chest, your mouth savoring the sweetness of his lips infused with your cherry chapstick, your nose inhaling his scent, a delicate blend of vanilla and tobacco pulling you into a dizzying dance, your ears catching the gentle rhythm of his breaths and the faint thud of his heartbeat, all resonating within you.

And you don't need your eyes to see Hyunjin; he's indelibly etched behind your eyelids from all the time you've spent admiring him before.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he draws back, “I should have kissed you much sooner.”

“Mm?” you grin, intertwining your hands behind his neck, “Was it that good?”

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“Then show me,” you grin, a playful glint in your eyes.

His gaze sparkles with mischief, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk, his hands finding your waist once more. Breathing is not necessary if it gives you Hyunjin in the end.

“Oh, I will.”

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱

daughter of poseidon!reader x luke castellan 🫧

IN WHICH.. in an attempt to keep percy from going insane, y/n is forced to keep her relationship with luke a secret

warning! the fic contains- feminine reader // post tlt but no luke betrayal (percy is there and chris and clarisse are together) // use of y/n

🎧- give you the world by steve lacy

2.4k

Since the dawn of time, you and Luke Castellan have been best friends. Attached at the hip since birth, the two of you have always been close. He was the one who helped you conquer your most intimidating challenges, whether that be the nervousness due to the first day of school or a Minotaur vigorously hunting you down.

And you assisted him, too. On those sleepless nights due to haunting nightmares, you lay beside him, comforting him through every scared shiver. It had always been Luke and Y/N, two peas in a pod, destined to spend eternity together.

Now, you both reside in Camp Half-Blood, eagerly awaiting your next adventure. You loved your time at the summer camp, whether it was tending to the young children or paddle boarding on the smooth and crystal blue lake that glimmered as sunlight passed through. It was thrilling to live such a beautiful life with the people you loved most.

It all started when you waltzed into the infirmary at fourteen, hurt and confused, with Luke and Annabeth by your side. The journey to get here was long and painful, losing one of your best friends, Thalia, in the process. Your head throbbed as Chiron explained the basis of everything, since this whole Greek God situation could be hard to process.

Poseidon, the God of the Sea, claimed you with ease the moment he saw you lingering by the lake all day. With Hermes, it took him a lot longer to accept Luke. However, you cheered him up when no one else could, lighting up his whole world, and no matter how bummed he was about his absent father, your illuminating smile shifted his mood instantly.

You’ve been a year-rounder since then; the world is too dangerous for you to venture off. Every once in a blue moon, however, you wish that just for one year, the monsters would stop prowling and you could explore the cities that tourists swarmed on a regular basis. Other times, you were happy to live in the warm solace you referred to as camp. The companions made inside the safe haven were incomparable to all the mysteries that roamed outside.

Around a year ago, a small blond boy arrived, his cluelessness mirroring yours when you first stumbled in. As you gave him the standard tour, something seemed to be off. The stories he shared of devious monsters attacking reminded you of your childhood, and a feeling of suspicion and concern arose.

Your wariness was only confirmed when the golden trident floated above Percy’s head. Sure, you were excited to have a younger brother, but you knew the dangers the life of a forbidden child contained. So, you made it your honorary job to protect him no matter the circumstance. You taught him how to surf and how to use his powers for the greater good.  And so a magnificent connection was formed, with you and him bonding like full siblings. He loved hearing all of the gossip between the older campers, and you loved when he updated you on how his friends were doing. Not to mention the chaotic board game nights you and he shared with Annabeth and Luke. There were almost no hidden secrets, for you told each other everything. Which is why you felt horrible about the massive personal detail you left out of your weekly yapping session.

You and Luke had been dating for three months. You had liked each other for a while, but eventually the overly flirty comments and long stares got the best of him, and he confessed . One breezy night, he asked you to meet him on the waterfront before bed. You obliged, stepping out into the chilly weather to find hundreds of blooming flowers (courtesy of the Demeter kids) arranged neatly in a heart. It was cheesy, but it was the exact type of movie love you were looking for.

That chilly, moonlit evening, you decided it was best to keep your relationship hidden from Percy and, for that matter, most of the camp. Close friends, such as Clarisse and Chris, knew, but that was only because you went on frequent double dates with the pair. But that doesn’t mean others didn’t bat an eye at your overly friendly relationship. You had almost been caught multiple times, despite Luke being the son of Hermes, who was known for his sly nature. 

The first time it happened was entirely Luke's fault. You and him had just finished archery training and were walking to lunch, where the rest of camp resided. As soon as you approached the bustling picnic tables, you were dragged off by the Aphrodite kids, who wanted your help with some fashion emergencies. That left Luke with Chris and Percy, along with some other campers from Hermes cabin.  -

“How was archery?” Asked an unclaimed kid, who Luke had little interaction with. They had small talk every once in a while, but not enough for him to know any personal details about his life.

“It was fine. You know, my girlfrie-“

Luke was lucky looks couldn’t kill, because with the way Percy and Chris were staring at him, he would have been six feet under already. He tried his best to salvage the situation, continuing on as if nothing had happened.

“My friend hit three bullseyes in a row. It was really impressive.” He finished, staring down as he pushed around his mushy broccoli with a flimsy spork, hoping to avoid the glares of his, let's face it, practically brother-in-law. Lucky for him, Percy shrugged it off, and the topic was quickly changed. 

-

The second time, however, was most certainly your mistake.

-

The dull light from the moon provided little protection from the consuming jet black sky. You and Luke had to sneak out after hours often, which was one of the major downsides to a private relationship.

“No!” You playfully shouted, trying to juke him out as you ran through the rocky sand of the shoreline. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), your boyfriend was the most athletic kid on camp. He easily caught you before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to the navy blue lake. 

You gently punched his back through strained laughter, gasping for oxygen. But as he attempted to step into the cold winter waters, you used your powers to manipulate the sea so it avoided his path. And with one quick swoop of your hand, he was drenched with the cooling solution, and you remained dry. 

He set you down, aggressively shaking the water from his head. “I forgot you were like the princess of the sea.” He said. Your harmonious giggles caused him to grin from ear to ear. 

“Yeah, maybe not the best choice on your end. C’mon, Percy probably has a shirt for you.” You replied, interlocking your fingers and skipping back to your cabin. 

You sneakily creaked the door open, hand over your mouth to try and hush the laughs that spilled out. Percy was sound asleep, snoring softly as you made your way to his dresser, rummaging through the array of neon orange shirts.

“Here. Mr. D gave him the wrong size by accident a while ago.” You whispered toward him before dragging him back out with the fabric still in hand. Once outside, he slid his soaking shirt off, carefully placing it next to your clothes that hung on the drying line. After giving him the t-shirt, you kissed him goodnight and headed back to get some much-needed sleep.

The next day, Percy awoke you with violent shakes, causing you to twist and groan with confusion.

“Get up. It’s like eight already. Don’t you have counselor activities to tend to too?” He said.

You shot up in a panic, staring down at the clock that read 8:03 a.m., almost 20 minutes after your morning duties. With an exasperated sigh, you slipped out of bed and rushed to grab a clean t-shirt from outside. 

Still dazed, you grabbed a familiar shirt off the clothing line and rushed back inside, quickly changing in hopes of escaping Chiron’s anger for your unpunctuality. 

While you happened to make it to breakfast on time, you failed to notice how unusually long the shirt was or how the tag on the back had the initials “L.C.” loosely scribbled on them. However, everyone else noticed your strange outfit. 

“Whose shirt is that? Why is it so big?” Percy was immediately questioned as you sat down with your food tray in hand.

“What do you mean?" You asked, glancing back down at your lengthy attire, before realizing your mistake. “Oh! I spilled something on my only clean shirt, so I borrowed that old one from you. Sorry.” You salvaged, and others seem to believe you. 

You made eye contact with Luke from across the table, growing flustered instantly due to the anxiety-inducing incident.

-

The third and final time might have been your fault, too. But by then, the two of you were fed up of keeping it secret.

-

“Awe, look at the little lovebirds!” 

Clarisse voiced as she shakily pointed a digital camera towards Luke and you, who were engaged in your own conversation.

Gorgeous flowers blossomed around the couple, ranging in various colors and sizes. Laughs rang through the air as Chris, Clarisse, Luke, and you all hung out one hazy camp afternoon. 

You looked up at the girl, smiling brightly as you twirled a pink flower in your palm. Grabbing Luke’s jaw with your soft, freshly manicured hands and turning his head to look in their direction, Chris pulled out a Polaroid camera, snapping a photo of the teens. 

As the black picture slid out of the small box, Chris handed it to Clarisse, who shook it with force in order to see the image fully.

“Do you want me to take one of you two?” You asked, snatching the camera from Chris’s hands and pointing it towards them. 

They posed, and the photo turned out super cute. You stared down at your frilly ruffle socks that stuck out of your high-top navy blue Converse. The toes of the shoes had been decorated with the signatures of all of your friends.

“It’s getting late; wanna head back?” Chris suggested the others let out a groan. He was right; they had camp duties to attend to, but being wrapped in their loved one’s embrace was so much more appealing.

You hopped up reluctantly, Luke grabbing your hand as you took the scenic route back to the cabins, the other couple straying a different way.

“I love going out with them.” You declared, breaking the silence and dramatically swinging your intertwined arms.

“Me too. It makes me feel like we’re just regular people.” He responded, smiling at her with such genuineness.

“Maybe in another universe.” You replied, sighing as you let out a light giggle.

“Speaking of which,” you continued. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

“Duh. We’re probably Gwen and Spiderman in one.” 

“Totally.” They grinned, enjoying the comfort they brought each other in the chaos that was their life.

After hours of training, you slipped back into Cabin 3, taking the photo out of your back pocket and placing it on your bed. You smiled at the sweet situation before Luke burst in, calling you to the bonfire. Obliviously, the Polaroid was left open on your bed, exposed to the world.

You basked in the warmth of Apollo’s kids songs, zoned out while mindlessly swaying to the beat of the guitar. Luke, who was sitting beside you, noticed you staring off into space and questioned it.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“I wanna tell Percy about us.” You replied, looking into his eyes to detect his emotions. He seemed surprised at first, but his expression changed to one more supportive a few seconds later. 

“I agree. I mean, he might try to literally drown me, but I hate lying to him.”

“Me too.” You finished, turning back to face the singer. However, you instead met eyes with a furious-looking Percy, holding a small black rectangle in his hands. Your heart stopped, and you leaped up to rush and explain, Luke following behind. The young blond stormed off in the other direction.

“Percy, please listen. We couldn’t tell you because we knew how you’d react. I know you’re protective and all, and I love that about you, but Luke's a good guy, and we both know that.” You started, praying to the gods that this would work out. 

“I barely even know him!“ Percy lied straight through his teeth, trying to come up with a rational reason for his anger. 

“Are you kidding? You’ve known him for a year now.” You sassed back.

“How long have you been dating?” He threw away his last point, knowing he had already lost that argument.

“Three months, I think.” You whispered out, ashamed.

“Three months, and you didn’t think to let me, your little brother, know?” He screamed, speed-walking back to his cabin, irritated. 

You let out a sigh, facing Luke. Sadness coated your glossy eyes before seeping out onto your cheeks. Your boyfriend was quick to wipe the tears with his calloused thumb, comforting you.

“Hey, he’ll come around eventually. Let him sleep it off.” He whispered, embracing you in a tight hug. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, clamping your eyes shut.

As the sun rose the next morning and Percy stepped out of the cabin, you and Luke were waiting outside, prepared with a whole spiel about your relationship. To your astonishment, he greeted you with a smile and spoke up first.

“I’m sorry about last night. While I think this whole concept of you dating Luke is insane, he’s probably the best it’s going to get, so I approve.” You smiled back, a sigh of relief escaping your throat. 

“And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. It’s just-“ 

“Don’t. It’s fine, really. Just absolutely no PDA in front of me.” Percy stated, a look of disgust appeared as he said the last sentence. Both of you agreed to his simple terms.

“I’ve gotta go to the arena. I’ll see you later.” Luke declared, and you nodded, ruffling your fingers through his curls before he departed. Once he was a solid distance away, Percy leaned in and whispered to you.

“Really? Luke Castellan? That's the best you could do?”

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[iuchamjohta]

Pretty, Cutie, Kittie, Minnie

Male Reader X Minnie

(5612 words)

Enjoy! See end for notes! She was too irresistable I had to write something :D no tags! other than the obvious petplay shall leave the rest for surprises. Didnt proof read so sorry if there are errors.

Work calls and meetings were the bane of your existence, constantly pulling you away from what you truly cherished. You longed to be at home with the girl you love.  After being away for just nine hours at the office, it felt like an eternity. You drove home with a sense of urgency, eager to escape the constraints of your day and return to the comfort you craved, to who was waiting for you at home.

As you reached the doorstep, your hands trembled with anticipation as you fumbled with the keys. With a hurried twist, you flung the door open, your heart racing. The sight that greeted you made your fatigue melt away in an instant. There was, Minnie—your girlfriend and kitten—wearing a playful set of cat ears and a charming maid costume.

She knelt gracefully on a plush pillow, her eyes beaded with excitement as she awaited your return. A wide, relieved smile spread across your face, and all the stress of the day seemed to dissolve in the warmth of her welcoming presence.

“Look at you, little kitten,” you exclaimed with excitement, gently patting her head softly. “What a perfect kitty you are. I’ve missed you so much,” you cooed. Even though you see Minnie every day, you never could grow tired of her. You find yourself continually admiring her cuteness and beauty as if you were seeing her for the very first time.

Minnie looked up at you with her kitten-like eyes, clearly enjoying the gentle pats you gave her. You ran your fingers through her hair before lowering your hands to cup her soft cheeks, massaging them tenderly. Minnie purred and nuzzled her face deeper into you, savouring the affection you were showing her.

“Such a good kitten for daddy, Daddy’s got a gift for you”. From your bag, you pulled a delicate pink collar, with a small bell that jingled softly. In the middle of the collar, engraved her name in silver beautifully. It was a gift that signified who she truly belonged to. Her eyes sparkled at the beautiful gift as she tilted her chin back exposing her neck. 

“Thank you daddy.” Minnie said as she looked at you in appreciation. You moved behind her, running your fingers on her neck, giving it a little squeeze before fastening the collar around her slender neck. The pink satin contrasted beautifully against her pale skin, and the bell chimes softly with each movement.

You adjusted the collar until it was an appropriate tightness so that it was not too uncomfortable for Minnie. You loved her after all and the last thing you wanted was your precious kitten to get hurt. Finally, you attached the leash to the collar, connecting you to her, a symbol of submission. You were about to engage in your favourite play time with her. 

“Let’s start with a walk, shall we?” You said, tugging gently on the leash. Minnie follows obediently, crawling on her hands and knees, her movements graceful and sensual. The tiles on the floor rubbed against her knees and palms, but it only reminded her of her commitment to you. You guide her around the living room, watching the enticing sway of her hips as she moves. You couldn’t help but land an open handed spank on her ass, watching the pale skin slowly turned red. 

“What must you say kitten?”

“Thank you, Daddy” her eyes are fixed on you, filled with devotion. Your fingers went lower, gently grazing her folds, feeling its wetness. “Naughty kitten, already wet from getting spanked”. 

You lead her to the sofa and sat down, pulling her closer until she kneels between your legs. The position is perfect, her face at the ideal height for what you have in mind. You stroke her hair, your touch tender and commanding before guiding them down the side of her face until your thumb brushes lightly against her lower lip. With a delicate motion, you eased Minnie’s mouth open just enough to slip your thumb inside. 

Minnie responded by sucking on your thumb gently. You added your index finger, using your thumb and index finger to roll around her tongue, in which Minnie responded by opening her mouth wider and sticking out her tongue for you to play.

“I missed you so fucking much my kitten” “Suck me, kittten” you commanded. Minnie doesn’t hesitate; she unbuckles your belt as fast as she could before pulling your jeans down. Then she leans forward, her lips parting to take you into her warm, wet mouth. She’s such a skilled cock-sucker, and her enthusiasm shows as she works her magic. Her tongue swirls around the head of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside before lowering her even further taking you deeper into her mouth. 

“Fuck, this is just what I needed” You groan the pleasure coursing through your body. Minnie purrs and the vibrations of her voice could be felt on your cock amplifying your pleasure. Your hands tighten in her hair, guiding her rhythm as she bobs her head, her full lips sliding up and down your shaft. You could feel her enthusiasm and her eagerness to please you and you appreciated every bit of it. 

Just as you were getting into the mood, your phone buzzes with an urgent work call. You cursed under your breath , knowing you can’t ignore it, yet annoyed that it has interrupted your playtime. 

“Stay” You commanded, while pulling on the leash to pull her away from your cock. Minnie whimpers softly, her eyes pleading as she looks at you, visibly upset being denied her dessert. You move to the other side of the room, answering the call with a frustrated sigh. As you discuss work matters, you glance over at Minnie, still kneeling patiently, her collared neck a constant reminder of the pleasure waiting for you.

The call seems to last an eternity, but finally, you ended it. Your eyes lock with Minnie's, and you see the desire burning in her gaze. She's been a good girl, waiting patiently for your attention. Disappointingly you had an emergency work meeting you had to attend online due to some shit that had cropped up again at work. 

“Sorry baby… I have to tend to a meeting real quick, just give me a moment.”

“Hmmph, unfair I have been waiting all day, does Daddy not love me?” She pouts angrily. 

“I’m sorry, I promise to make it up to you after this meeting, you know you are the number 1 for me” you said while patting her head gently before pecking her forehead. Pulling up your pants, you left her to get your laptop to join the meeting.

You sit at your desk, frustrated that your playtime has been interrupted, but you remain focused, trying to resolve the issues that have came up. All you wanted is for the meeting to end so you can get back to playing with Minnie. It has almost been an hour since leaving her and even you were getting impatient. 

As you talked, you were unaware of the naughty kitten, Minnie, who had crawled under your desk, eager to worship her Master's cock. She knows she should be a good girl and wait patiently, but the temptation is too great. Suddenly, you feel your pants being dragged to your ankles again. 

You look down to see Minnie, your precious kitten, parting her soft lips and taking you into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting the familiar flavour of your precum from the interrupted session. Her brown eyes sparkle with affection as she looks up at you, her hair falling over her face. She wants to please you , craving your attention and approval after having been denied that the whole day. You held back your moan, knowing you were still in the meeting as the warm mouth embraced your shaft. 

Whenever you unmute to contribute , Minnie would tighten her lips around your shaft, sucking gently at first, but as you emphasise a point, she would intentionally take it as a sign to suck harder. She deepthroats you, her throat muscles massaging your length, her saliva coating your dick. The sensation is incredible, and you feel your cock twitch in her mouth. 

"Umm... I think we should move on to the next agenda item," you say, your voice slightly hoarse as you try to maintain your composure. You shift in your chair, subtly adjusting your position to give Minnie better access. Unbeknownst to your colleagues, you're enjoying a private show. “Naughty kitty, so impatient for Daddy” You looked down at her and smirked as you muted yourself again. 

Minnie took that as encouragement and became bolder. The next time you unmuted and spoked, She moaned softly around your cock, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. Her hands roam over your thighs, her nails gently scraping the sensitive skin. You sure as hell hoped your colleagues did not hear the moan.

“Right, on the system downtime,” You manage to say, clearing your throat. “ We need to focus on…” You trail off as Minnie's warm mouth envelops your balls, sucking gently, teasingly. You grip the edge of the desk, trying to maintain your professional demeanor while your body betrays you. 

One of your colleagues, unaware of the naughty scene beneath the desk, asks a question. You answer, your voice strained, as Minnie's mouth returns to your cock, her tongue flicking at the sensitive underside. You can't help but thrust your hips upwards, fucking her face gently, the sight of her pretty face buried in your lap almost making you lose control.

The meeting continues, and Minnie's blowjob becomes more intense with each passing minute. She's a talented cock-sucker, using her lips and tongue to drive you wild. She continued her game, whenever you had to speak , she took it as a cue to tighten her throat around your cock, her way of competing for your attention. 

"Yes, we aim to complete it by Thursday then," you say, your voice slightly strained. You can feel your orgasm building, and you know you won't last much longer, you had to end the meeting quickly. 

As the meeting wraps up, you thank your colleagues, your eyes briefly meeting the curious gaze of one of your teammates, who gives you a knowing smile. You wonder if they had suspected anything, but you dismiss the thought as you focus on the kitten beneath your desk. The moment the call ended, you reached down and gently grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back slightly. 

"You've been a very naughty pet, Minnie. I think you've earned some special attention." “Open wide, kitty, I’m going to fuck your face”.  

Minnie complied, opening her mouth wide to receive you once more. This time, you thrust into her mouth with force, her lips sliding down your length, and her throat accepting you fully. You held her head in place, fucking her mouth with brutally, as she gagged slightly, her eyes watering from the force of your penetration. But she didn't pull away; instead, she relaxed her throat, allowing you to take control. 

You continued pounding her mouth, your balls slapping against her chin with each thrust. Minnie's moans and whimpers of pleasure fueled your desire, and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. "That's it, take it, my little slut," you growled, your voice hoarse. "Suck my cock like the good kitten you are."

Minnie's hands reached back, gripping your thighs as she surrendered herself to your pleasure. You felt her nails dig into your skin, leaving marks as she urged you on. Her mouth was pure heaven, hot and tight, and the thought of her willingly submitting to your desires sent you over the edge. 

Just as you were about to reach your climax, you reached down with your hands, and using two fingers you pinched her nose, cutting off Minnie’s breathing. This caused her to inhale deeply through her mouth, in her attempt to gasp for air , which undoubtedly tightened her throat around your shaft. 

With a loud grunt, you exploded, jets of hot cum shot down her throat. Minnie gasped at the volume, she maintained eye contact with you throughout, her big eyes staring at you with affection as she savoured the taste of your release. She swallowed, eagerly, milking your cock with her mouth , ensuring she didn’t waste a single drop. 

As your orgasm subsided, you panted, catching your breath, while Minnie licked her lips, a satisfied smile on her face. "Thank you, Daddy” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the intense blowjob. "I love being your little cock-worshipping pet."

You reached down and caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears that had flowed from her eyes from the intense throat fuck.  "Nicha, you've been a naughty girl," you say, your voice firm as you stand up, your hard cock springing free from her mouth.

"Sucking my cock during an important meeting. You know the rules." “Naughty girls need to be punished."

Nicha… is the name you always use when you are about to punish your kitty. Minnie’s eyes sparkle with excitement. She loves being punished knowing it is a sign of your affection as well as ownership of her. She crawls out from under the desk, her body flushed and her lips glistening with her saliva and cum. 

Grabbing the leash this time, you led her to the nearby couch and grabbed a few things along the way, your eyes never leaving her.

“Bend over, Nicha” you instructed, your voice low and commanding. Obediently, she bends over your lap, her ass presented to you, her hands resting on the cushions. You admire her round, firm cheeks, knowing you're about to leave your mark on her.

“Count” You begin by running your hand gently over her smooth, creamy cheeks before landing a firm smack on her right cheek, watching it turn a delicate shade of pink.  "One," she counts, her voice slightly trembling. You alternate cheeks, delivering another sharp smack, this time on the left, and feel her muscles tense under your touch. "Two," she continues, her voice now a little steadier.

Each strike of your hand leaves a warm, glowing imprint on her skin, and you admire the beautiful blush that spreads across her ass. You deliver another pair of smacks, this time with a bit more force, and hear the satisfying sound of your palm connecting with her soft flesh. "Three... four," Minnie counts, her voice a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Between each strike, you pause, letting the heat build in her ass, watching as the pink hue deepens to a fiery red. You're an artist, and her ass is your canvas, gradually being painted with the colours of her punishment. "Five... six," she gasps as your hand continues its rhythmic dance, alternating between her cheeks.

As you reach double digits, Minnie's breathing becomes more heavy, her pussy dripping wet as the pain and pleasure intertwine. "Seven... eight," she pants, her voice hoarse with desire. 

You lean down, whispering into her ear, "You like this, don't you, pet? Being punished for being such a naughty girl?"

Minnie's response is a mere whimper, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. "Nine... ten," she manages to say, her voice breaking as you land two more smacks.

You decided it’s time to move to the next phase. Reaching over for a bottle of lube that you have previously grabbed, you warmed your hands with a generous amount.  With deliberate, sensual strokes, you began to massage the lubricant onto her anus.

Minnie moaned softly, her body responding to your touch as you prepared her for the plug that she had seen you previously grabbed. "Relax, Nicha,""Let me prepare you for your new toy."

Your fingers worked their magic, gently probing and stretching her tight hole. You took your time, wanting to ensure her comfort and pleasure. As you slowly inserted one, then two fingers, Minnie's breath hitched, and she pushed back against your hand, craving more.

"Oh, Daddy, please," she begged

You smiled, pleased with her eagerness. Withdrawing your fingers, you took a silicone butt plug from the box, a sleek, black toy with a delicate tail attached to its base. Perfect for your kitty. You coat it generously with lube, the clear liquid glistening in the dim light. You gently positioned the tip at her entrance and began to push against her tight hole, as you heard Minnie whimpers. 

"Shh, pet," you soothe. With a slow, deliberate push, you begin to insert it, feeling her muscles clench around the intruder. "Relax, Minnie," you instruct, gently working the plug deeper into her ass.

Minnie's eyes fluttered shut and breath catches in her throat, as the plug slowly invaded her, stretching her in a way that was both unfamiliar and intensely arousing. You twist the plug slightly, stimulating her further, and you feel her body tremble in response. "Oh... oh God," she whispers, her voice barely audible. You continued to push the plug further gently. The sight of her ass contracting and gripping the toy with her tight walls was beautiful.

You took your time, allowing her to adjust to the new sensation, before finally seating the plug fully, the tail hanging provocatively between her cheeks.

"Stand up, my kitten," you instructed, your eyes gleaming with desire. "Let Daddy see how it looks on you." Minnie rose to her feet, her movements graceful, the butt plug accentuating the curves of her ass. The tail swayed and dangled provocatively between her legs, brushing against her swollen pussy lips with every move she made. She turned around, offering you a full view of her plugged ass, with her red cheeks due to the spanking. 

“You look beautiful, Nicha” You praised “The plug suits you perfectly, let’s see how it feels” 

Using the leash, you guided her again to the couch, positioning her on her knees, her ass raised high, presenting her glistening pussy to you. With her hands resting on the couch for support, you stepped behind her, your eyes taking in the sight of her exposed, plugged ass. 

You reached out and gave the tail a gentle tug, eliciting a gasp from Minnie. "Does it feel good, my pet? Does my kitten like her new toy?"

"Yes, Daddy," she panted, her voice strained. "It feels incredible deep inside me”

You began to tease her, running your fingers along the length of the tail, tugging and caressing it, sending waves of pleasure and anticipation through her body. You alternated between soft strokes and firm pulls, driving her wild with desire. You watched intently at her ass stretched, as the buttplug moved in and out of her.

"You like that, don't you, kitten?" "Being punished for your naughtiness” You said as you ran your fingers through her already soaking folds, feeling its wetness.

"Yes, Daddy," she replied, your voice breathless. "It makes me so wet."

Your hand paused, and Minnie whimpered at the loss of contact, craving more of yoour touch. "Oh, but you shouldn't be enjoying this, should you?" you said, your voice laced with mock disappointment. "You've been a naughty girl and naughty girls don’t get to cum” 

Minnie shivered at your words, knowing this punishment was far from over and you were about to edge her continuously. 

"Spread your legs, kitten,""Let me see how naughty you've been." 

Obediently, Minnie widens her stance, revealing her glistening pussy lips, already swollen. She bit her lips as she felt your fingers gently part her folds, exposing her sensitive clit.

Such a naughty girl," "Your pussy is dripping, begging for attention. This is still a punishment and you will get to cum when I say so” You reminded again.

She knew the consequence would be worse to disobey you and she was going to use every bit of her will to follow through with this. 

Your fingers danced over her clit, teasing and denying her the pleasure she so desperately craved. She squirmed, trying to press herself against your hand, seeking release. "Please, Daddy," she begged “ I need more” 

You obliged, plunging two fingers deep inside her wetness, which elicited a gasp from her lips. Your fingers worked in and out , stretching and filling her, while your thumb found Minnie’s clit, circling it relentlessly. 

“Oh, fuck!” Minnie cried out, her body shaking as you finger fucked her pussy. “I can’t… I can’t hold back , Daddy”

“You will.” You asserted with a firm dominant voice “ Don’t you dare cum without Daddy’s permission” You increased the pace, your fingers pounding into her needy hole while your thumb worked her clit in perfect rhythm. Minnie’s body quivered, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but you held you there, denying her release.

"Please, please, Daddy," Minnie pleaded, your voice reduced to a whimper. "I'll be good, I promise. Just let me cum."

Your fingers paused, just as she was about to hit her high and she whined in protest , desperate for release. “Not yet, kitten.” “I want to feel every inch of my cock inside this tight little pussy first.”

Grasping the leash tightly, you guide Minnie onto the ground, lowering her until she’s on all fours again, her knees sinking into the soft rug.  As you position yourself behind her, your cock throbs eager to claim what's rightfully yours. You reach down one hand still holding the leash while the other grabbing her hips and pulling her towards you.

With one swift motion, you slide your length into her wet pussy, eliciting a gasp from Minnie's lips. Her warmth envelops you, her tight muscles gripping your shaft as you begin to thrust. You set a relentless pace, pounding into her, claiming her hole as yours. 

Minnie's hands clench the rug beneath her, enjoying her body being used "Oh, yes, fuck me, Daddy," she moans "Use my pussy, please, use it hard." You obliged, lowering her into a prone position, before withdrawing almost entirely and slamming back into her, your hips smacking her ass with each forward thrust. 

The leash provides an additional layer of control, and you give it a gentle tug, pulling her back towards you, ensuring every inch of your cock fills her. The sound of flesh meeting fills the reverberates loudly through the room. Reaching forward, you grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck. You plant open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive skin, tasting the salt of her sweat. "You like it rough, don't you, Nicha?" you whispered in her ears.

"Yes, Daddy," she pants, her voice trembling from the intense pleasure "I love it when you take control, when you use me like this." Your fingers moved to find the base of the butt plug, still nestled snugly in her ass. You twist it slightly, making her whimper and push back against your hand. "Please, Daddy, may I cum?" she begs, her voice a mixture of desperation and pleading.

"Not yet, pet, not until I feel you have earned it” With that, you resume your assault on her core, alternating between rapid, shallow thrusts and deep, slow penetrations, ensuring her body remains on the edge between pleasure and frustration.

As you fuck her, you admire the sight of her slender figure, the curve of her waist, and the swell of her hips. Her back glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, reflecting the soft lighting of the room. You lean forward again, your chest pressing against her back, your hands roaming over her body, claiming every inch as your own.

Your fingers find her nipples, pinching and rolling them between your thumb and forefinger. Minnie arches her back, pushing her breasts into your hands, seeking more stimulation. You oblige, squeezing and twisting, eliciting a chorus of moans and whimpers from her lips. This new positioned allowed you fuck deeper into her.

"You're so responsive, Nicha," "Every inch of your body craving to be touched and played with” You bite down gently on her earlobe, sucking it into your mouth, marking her with your teeth further. 

Minnie's hands move to her clit, her fingers brushing against the sensitive bud, seeking the release you've denied her. "No, pet," you command, slapping her hand away. "You'll cum when I allow it, and not a moment before."

"I... I can't hold it much longer," she pants, her body shaking. As your thrust became more erratic, you felt that she had earned it and it was time to give her her reward. You reached between her legs, fingers finding her clit and began to rub it in firm circles as you pounded into her.

“Now kitten, Cum, Cum for Daddy” 

Your command was all Minnie needed. Her body convulses in pleasure , her pussy clenching around your cock as she rides out the waves of orgasm. You continued to thurst, fucking her through her orgasm as her juice splattered all over the rug. After a while, your cock slid out of her, Minnie arms gave way and she collapsed on the floor, her pussy still throbbing from the post-orgasm. 

Turning around, Minnie sees your cock still fully erected. “Sorry.. I came before Daddy”. Reaching lower, she spreads her tight asscheeks, with the buttplug still lodged deep inside her. “Would Daddy like to use this hole instead?”

Your eyes widened at the suggestion, yet you couldn't hide your excitement. You have tried anal with her before, but she could not relax enough and you found it hard to get even the tip in. You did not want the first experience to be painful for your pet. You deeply loved her after all. Determined to make it special this time, you approach her with a mix of eagerness and care.

“Are you sure about this?” Minnie nods in response. “Remember, kitten, we’re taking it slow today, and we will go at your pace, if it is too much, just sound out and we will stop” Minnie felt fuzzy at your care. Despite the rough sex, you have always added in bits of tenderness which made her knew she can trust you fully. 

You reached for the tail buttplug, and slowly removed it , watching her face for any signs of discomfort. Her breath quickens as the toy slides out, leaving her ass exposed and slightly gaping. The pink flesh, glistening with her natural lubrication, is a sight that sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but lean forward and plant a soft kiss on one of her cheeks, savouring the taste of her.

"Open your mouth, Minnie," You had switched back to her name signifying the end of her punishment. Minnie obeyed, mouth watering at the thought of what you were about to do. You guided the tip of the plug to her lips, and she parted them eagerly, sucking the toy into her mouth. The taste of her own ass could be felt which made her feel incredibly nasty and aroused. She swirled her tongue around it, cleaning it with her saliva. 

Positioning yourself behind her, you guide your rock-hard cock to her entrance, feeling the heat radiating from her body. The tip of your dick touches her puckered hole, and you pause, letting her get accustomed to the sensation. You've learned from your previous attempt that patience is key, and you want to ensure she enjoys every moment.

With a gentle push, you apply a bit of pressure, feeling her tightness resist your intrusion. Minnie lets out a soft whimper, a mix of pleasure and discomfort.

"Relax, my pet. Breathe with me. It's okay to feel a little pain, but we'll go as far as you want. You're in control."

You take a moment to caress her hips, your hands soothing the tension from her body. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you push forward again, this time managing to sink the head of your cock into her tight channel. Minnie's breath catches, and she arches her back slightly, her body instinctively reacting to the invasion.

"Oh, fuck, is it in yet"

"Not yet, just about one-third.”

You sense her disbelief, and wonder how she is going to take all of you in her ass. You slowly inch your way in bit by bit. 

 "That's it, kitty. You're taking me in, inch by inch. Such a good girl."

With each gentle thrust, you sink deeper, filling her with a slow, relentless rhythm. Her ass clenches around your shaft, the tightness almost unbearable almost forcing your orgasm immediately. You want to pound into her, to claim her completely, but you hold back, letting her guide the pace, it was your first successful attempt after all. 

"You like it deep, don't you, Minnie? Tell me how much you love my cock stretching your sweet ass."

Minnie's response is a moan, her words muffled as she bites down on the silicone buttplug that laid beside her. "Yes... I love it... It hurts so good... Fill me... please..."

Encouraged by her plea, you start to pick up the pace, your hips moving in a steady rhythm. You could feel her ass relaxing, giving you more freedom to move in and out of her. As you fuck her, you reach around and start to play with her sensitive clit, knowing how much she loves the dual stimulation. Your fingers tease the hard bud, rubbing and circling it, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Minnie's moans turn into desperate cries, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.

"Oh, Daddy.. I'm so close... Don't stop... Fuck my ass... and my pussy..." Her pussy, glistening with arousal, is a temptation you can't resist. You slide a finger down, finding her wet entrance and plunging it deep inside, matching the rhythm of your cock in her ass. Her pussy was a whimpering mess, juices spilling everywhere and wetting the surrounding. 

A naughty thought crosses your mind as you grabbed the steel feeding bowl nearby for her meals and placed it beneath her dripping pussy. As you continue to fuck her, the pace becoming increasingly frantic, you notice the bowl filling with her juices. The sight is incredibly arousing—a testament to her arousal. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to taste her although if anything you have tasted her the most.

You lifted your other hand before delivering spanks on her already redeened cheeks. Each time your hand connected with her ass, you could feel her hole clenched tighter around your shaft.

"Naughty girl, enjoying getting spanked."

Sensing Minnie on the edge of an intense orgasm, you quickened your thrusting and spanking, plunging deeper into her anal walls as you curled your fingers reaching her G-spot. “That’s it, baby,cum for me. Let everything go” 

Minnie’s body shakes and a high-pitched scream fills the air as she cums, her ass clenching and milking your cock, her pussy pushing your fingers out as a gush of squirt fills the metal bowl below her. 

You felt your balls tightened and quickly pulled out your sensitive cock with a wet sucking sound as you watched her ass gaped slightly. You tug on the leash to spin her around to watch. “On your knees, kitty” 

Obediently, she kneels, her eyes fixed on you as you step towards the feeding bowl. You stroke your cock, still hard and glistening with her juices, and aim it at the bowl. With a few sharp jerks, you release your hot cum, watching as it mixes with her nectar, creating a unique cocktail. You smiled at your creation. 

“Now, kitten” “Here’s your reward” You lowered her using the leash as she crawls forward towards the metal bowl. She dips her head, her pink tongue extending to lap at the mixture of cum and pussy juice. The sight was incredibly erotic for you, an act of complete submission by your pet. 

“Mmm, it’s so good Daddy” She mewls between licks. “I love the taste of us together.” You kneel beside her, running your hand through her hair, guiding her as she cleans the bowl with her tongue. 

"That's my good girl," you praise, your voice softening. You share a quiet moment with her, gently patting her head and pecking her cheeks. “You did so well kitty” You said as you held her close, feeling her heart facing against yours. More than the sex, you deeply adored her. After a while, you both drift into a comfortable silence, wrapped in the comforting embrace of each other's company. 

Eventually you got up and led her through the leash back to her cage to rest for the night. Before she reaches her resting spot, she hesitates for a moment before looking at you with those cute beady dreamy eyes. "Would it be okay if… Minnie sleeps with Daddy in his room tonight? For a bit of extra cozy? Her voice is soft and shy. "

You smile, touched by her request and give a gentle nod. “Of course, Minnie, I’d love that.” Her face lights up with a relieved smile, and she takes your hand as you both head towards your room together. 

Ignoring the sweat and cum stains on your bodies, you both slip under the covers. She insisted on wearing the collar to sleep , since it was your gift and in a few moments she had drifted off deeply into sleep. You admire your pretty kitten for a while, staring at her sleep cutely. Moving a few strands of hair behind her eyes, you leaned in for another peck on her forehead, before cuddling her and closing your heavy eyes to rest.

You thoroughly enjoyed your playtime and you could not wait to try many different things with the kitty you loved so much, your pretty, cutie, kitty Minnie.

Hope you enjoyed the piece! Kitty Minnie was so fitting after this post with her tongue out and in a cage. She was tooooo cute. Too little G-idle fics out there despite them being hot.

I intentionally took note to paragraph and split my sentenced this time , hope it is better for reading!

This is for the author who previously asked to write about Minnie too! Let me know your thoughts comments. Again if you want to drop a request refer to the master list or if you would like to commission a piece drop me a pm!

[charismatic-writer]

Bun In The Oven (S.R x Fem!Pregnant!Reader)

Summary: (Based off an anonymous request) "Married Spencer Reid x Reader where reader tries to tell Spencer she is pregnant but it goes wrong? Not like angsty, but something unexpected happens?"

Word Count: 808

Warnings: None!

Awaiting Spencer’s arrival back home from his most recent case in Illinois was probably one of the most stressful moments of your life. You had spent all day setting up small hints towards a surprise you had for him once he got home. You spent a large chunk of time moving all of the liquor from its usual cupboard into the back of your bedroom closet, as well as moving your coffee cup from the spot on the counter it is usually found in. The hint you were most excited for was probably one of the more cliché hints of the bunch. During your earlier trip to the grocery store, you picked up a fresh bun from the bakery, placing it inside of your oven. 

Everything had fallen into place just how you had planned, that was until your phone vibrated with a text from Spencer. Your heart ached as you read the message, 

‘The unpredictable Chicago weather has us stuck here for another night. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. I love you’ 

You knew firsthand how unpredictable the Chicago weather could get, having lived there for a few years as a child. Flight delays were nothing new to the team either, coming across them every few cases. It was just sucky that it had to happen the night you had been planning for over a week. 

Since Spencer was no longer coming home tonight, you decide to call it a night and head to bed earlier than you would on a night like this. You shoot him a quick reply to his original text, and a goodnight before shutting off all lights in the apartment and heading to bed. 

You had woken up early the next morning, a cup of tea grasped in your hands as you sit on the couch. You opted for a nature documentary, the voice of the narrator being nice background noise while you scroll endlessly on your phone until your husband’s inevitable return.  

The clock on the wall above the TV ticks on as the hours pass; each minute feeling like an eternity, that is until you hear the front door unlock and open revealing Spencer standing in the doorway. You practically jump out of your seat, launching yourself at him. 

“Someone missed me,” He quips, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I have a surprise for you, but you have to find the hints I hid around the house.” You say, and admittedly, it was a quite childish game for you to be making your husband play. 

“A surprise?” He asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. 

You nod, and lead him into the living room. “Yup! And it starts now!” 

You watch as his eyes adopt a determined glint to them, and he starts looking around the living room. He sifts through the bookshelves, and through the couch cushions. Soon moving on to the bedroom, he looks through drawer and under pillows and blankets. 

While he is doing that, you decide to start on dinner, setting the oven to preheat while you prepare the chicken. As time passes, Spencer has now made his way into the kitchen opening cabinet doors. He comes across the empty liquor cabinet, and makes a mental note of it. As he passes by the oven, though, a peculiar smell hits his nostrils.  

“Is something burning..?” He asks. 

Your head snaps up at his question, whipping around to face him at the sudden recollection of the bun you had put in there not even 24 hours ago. You go to open the oven door, but he holds his hand out to stop you. He grabs a pair of tongs, and opens the door of the oven, retrieving the now burnt bun. 

“Honey what is this?” He asks, holding up the tongs with the bun in their grasp. 

“It’s a bun.” You say, cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink. 

“Darling, Honey, I love you so, so much, but why did you put a singular roll in the oven?” He drops the bun onto the stovetop, setting the tongs next to it. 

“It’s not a roll, it’s a bun!” You can’t help but laugh now, the look he is giving you was priceless. 

“Okay, why did you put a singular bun in the oven?” He asks 

“It’s a BUN in the OVEN.” You reply. “WE have a bun in the oven.” 

“No, I just pulled it out.” He says, his face remains one of confusion. 

“No- Spence-” You sigh. “We’re having a baby.” 

His face becomes one of realization, and a smile grows on his face. “Really?! Oh my God, that’s incredible!” With a few small steps, he crosses the kitchen, and wraps his arms around you. “I can’t believe you almost burnt our kitchen down, but this is amazing!” 

TY FOR READING!!!!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated

[heartcereql]

heaven is a place on earth with you

art donaldson x fem!reader || soft moments in your fresh new home

cw: smoking, minor cursing, no use of y/n (1240 words) a/n: writing about my sweet baby art during finals bc why not

you swore you could have stayed like this forever. tangled in silky bedsheets, soft rays of light that tingled on your face, body pressed against art's. one of those moments you wished you could pause and settle in for an eternity.

the mattress was on the floor, and cardboard boxes were scattered all around your apartment. your apartment. it felt blissful to say it. a life awaited you there, between the beige and baby blue walls that screamed for another hand of paint. it was far from the ideal, but it was perfect because it was yours. art's and your world. didn't it sound so pretty?

you looked over at him. eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his head a blond mess of curls and his skin warm despite the moring breeze that slipped inside the room through the opened balcony. art looked otherworldly. he always did, in your eyes. and you felt like the luckiest woman on earth with him, because he looked at you, because he touched you, because he loved you. because he felt for you what you felt with him.

and you two were fucking living together. the thought was enough to bloom a grin on your lips. a pure, joyful smile that made you want to jump and dance all around. pressing a feather-like kiss to his temple, you sat up, careful to untangle yourself from his arms and slinging over one of his standford t-shirts.

you reached over to your bedside table- well, the brown leather suitcase on which you had left some stuff. a provisional nightstand, let's leave it at that. you took a cigarette out of the box, holding it between your lips as you grabbed the lighter and your sketchbook and pencil.

the cool air of the early morning greeted you as you stepped out onto the balcony, goosebumps appearing all over your skin. you lit the cigarette with the pink lighter art had gifted you on your fourth date, all that time ago, when you mentioned you kept losing all your lighters. it was safe to say you'd kept this one. it had fake rhinestones forming your initial on one side. you recalled thanking art with a very excited hug and an even more excited peck.

"you made it?" you had ask him, the glint in your big eyes almost matching the glimmer of the rhinestones under the streetlamp. when art nodded, you gushed, hugging him again. "it's beautiful, art, i love it."

"i'm so glad," he smiled. you looked ethereal, all the eagerness painted on your face, cheeks rosy from the cold, babbling about how sweet you found it.

"hey, do you have any more rhinestones left?" you asked.

"yeah, yeah, here," he handed you the stickers, watching you start putting some more on the other side of the lighter. "what are you-"

but he was shut as he guessed the shape of his own initial, a very shimmering 'A'. once finished, you showed it to him proudly.

you both broke into laughter, cheeks flushed and hurting from the smiles, but it didn't matter. not when you felt so safe around him. and certainly not when he pulled you in for a kiss.

taking another drag of the cigarette, you traced your fingertips against the initials on the lighter. call it luck or fate or whatever, but none of the rhinestones had ever unstuck from where you both had originally placed them.

you sat on the beach chair that you'd placed on the balcony last night, before getting trapped between art's arms and lips, and getting lost in him. tipping the ashes off of the end of the cigarette, you opened the sketchbook. it was actually another of art's little thoughtful gifts that he loved to give you, and you loved to receive.

on the first page of it was a sweet little dedication art had written.

'for my angel girl, so you can be an artist and carry me always with you (get it? because i'm ART and you're an ARTist? so funny, i know.) love you forever baby <3'

it always made you smile when you read it, and reach over to kiss him for no apparent reason, leaving him a curious, flushed mess.

on the page you were currently at, there were some seashell doodles from your last trip to the beach. art had picked them out for you, and peered through the whole process with his head resting on your shoulder. beneath the collection of seashells was a watercolor drawing of art's beautiful, dual colored eyes, and a little sketch of a couple of figs.

looking over, your eyes settled on the pastel colored laundry your neighbors in front had hanging and swaying lightly with the dawning breeze.

your traces were fast but precise. soon, the laundry was replicated under your pencil. shirts and pants and socks and even a bra. the cigarette dangled from your lip, forgotten amidst your concentration.

you were so absorbed in drawing little daisies on the socks you didn't hear the sheets rustling as art stirred awake, or his soft footsteps as he approached you. thus, when you heard his voice, you were startled for a second.

"hey, artist."

you turned to him, eyes big. the movement was so sudden the cigarette fell to the floor.

"hey, art," you smiled, setting down the sketchbook and pencil and standing up to greet him.

his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you in for a kiss. you nuzzled your head onto the warmth of his chest, running your hands on his back.

"morning," you looked up to him. art smiled. god, that smile. it drove you crazy, made you weak at the knees. your soft fingertips drove up to trace his smile lines, trailing down to his jaw in no time.

he tucked some strand of hair behind your ears, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "were you drawing?" art asked, spinning you around so you both faced the view, his arms around your waist.

the sky was not fully blue yet; pink and purple hues shining over the horizon.

"mhm," you hummed. "i want to colour it later, will you help me?"

"of course, baby," he mumbled, pressing kisses to your cheek.

it was something silly you two did sometimes. after pouring you both some coffee (you made it for art the way he liked, as he prepared yours as he'd learnt from several coffee dates), you'd pull out some colour pencils or sharpies and paint the little doodles you had drawn.

"hey," art whispered. "we live together."

you smiled. "yeah, we do. it's perfect."

art huffed at that. "the walls are on the verge of falling apart. and the people from the bar downstairs were noisy as fuck. and the shower-"

"shut up," you playfully hit his arm, rolling around again to face him once more. "it's you and i. sounds perfect to me."

he gifted you another smile. "you're right. it's ours. that's more than enough."

was this your own personal heaven? you found yourself thinking that often, as you got lost in his always tender eyes, or the sound of your laughters together, or the tingles he left on your skin, or the way you loved each other. as he lifted you up and carried you inside for your first breakfast at your place, you were sure of the answer. yeah, of fucking course it was.

© heartcereql, 2024 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[slu7formen]

Luke Castellan request here! When reader, who loves fashion, asks her boyfriend to come to her cabin so she can model for him but instead of the usual dresses or skirts, it's lingerie 🤭

girl you filfthy

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: dom but lovesick luke, spanking (literally once), mention of oral s3x, p in v, teasing, finger sucking

₊˚⊹♡

You gnawed on your thumbnail, a nervous but thrilling energy buzzing through you like a live wire. You occasionally looked out the window, waiting for your boyfriend to show up, and after what felt like an eternity, a knock on the door shattered the silence. You practically flung the door open, a wide smile plastered across your face.

There stood Luke, your boyfriend, framed by the golden afternoon light. His initial smile faltered when he saw you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Hey, love" he greeted, his voice laced with concern. "What's with the coat? It´s like a hundred degrees outside"

"Oh, this?" you quipped, playfully kicking your foot out behind you. "This is just part of the surprise." Your voice held a teasing tone, causing a small laugh from your boyfriend.

Luke didn´t question it. He knew how much you adored fashion, your passion fueled partly by your heritage as Aphrodite's daughter. Your surprise fashion shows every couple weeks, held in the privacy of your cabin, were a regular occurrence in your relationship.

And you just loved the attention he´d give you. The joy on his face, the raw desire in his eyes when he saw you in those outfits, fueled your passion even further. This time, however, you had something different planned. Something you haven´t tried before.

You grabbed his hand. "Come on" you chirped excitedly, pulling him inside with you as you closed the door.

Walking towards the bed, you gestured for Luke to sit comfortably. With a sigh, he sank down onto the cushions, stretching out his long legs and letting out a contented groan. "Alright," he conceded, feigning impatience. "Show me”

"Patience" you sang, leaning down to leave a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips. It already left Luke wanting more, a hint of the sensuality that awaited him.

Pulling back, you placed your hands playfully behind your back. "Close your eyes" you commanded.

“What?” he chucked.

"You heard me" you continued. "Close your eyes, Luke."

He couldn't help but laugh a little. You'd had your fair share of surprise fashion shows in this cabin, and never once had you asked him to close his eyes. He had seen you in everything – from flowy maxi dresses to chic skirts and playful jumpsuits. Yet, here you were, adding a layer of mystery to the whole event.

“No” he simply said then, shrugging his shoulders.

You stomped one foot lightly on the floor. "Luke!" you whined, your voice laced with mock frustration.

"Nuh-uh" he countered, shaking his head with a grin.

"Please" you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him in a way you knew he couldn't resist. "Just this once. Close your eyes for me?"

His smile softened. "Baby, why the big secret?" he asked, genuine curiosity flickering beneath the amusement in his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you in everything already. A beautiful dress, a sexy skirt, shorts, a blouse— whatever surprise you have, it's gonna look fabulous on you."

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back a mischievous grin. "It's none of those things, silly" you hinted.

"Is it that bikini you were freaking out about?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. He remembered you whining weeks ago about forgetting a stunning pink bikini you'd just bought.

“No” you whined again. “But thanks for reminding me”

"Sweetheart" he started, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm not closing my eyes. Just do your thing, like you always do” he said, laying back on his hands onto the mattress.

You sighed. This boy, you thought. “Fine” you finally conceded.

Luke watched you with a growing curiosity as your fingers got rid of the little fabric-like-belt that hugged your waist and kept the coat closed. He couldn't help but admire the way you moved, a subtle sensuality that was familiar and electrifying.

With a delicate movement, you untied it and let the coat fall open, cascading down your shoulders and pooling at your feet on the ground, revealing the outfit you'd been hiding beneath.

Luke stopped breathing. A choked sound, something like a whimper, escaped his lips, his hand instinctively flying up to cover his mouth.

You stood before him in a set of lingerie, a vision of breathtaking beauty. The set was a masterpiece of pink lace and whisper-thin silk, designed to ignite a fire in his heart. It clung to your curves like a second skin, strategically leaving just enough to the imagination to set his mind ablaze.

The fabric seemed to map the contours of your body with exquisite precision, contrasting beautifully with the golden necklace hanging from your neck. Every lace pattern, every curve emphasized by the design, was a feast for his eyes. The details overwhelmed his senses. Delicate bra straps adorned your shoulders, adorned with tiny bows that matched the ones strategically placed at the apex of your thighs. The lace traced the outline of your body, highlighting your best features in a way that sent shivers cascading down his spine.

He felt momentarily paralyzed. His eyes followed the curve of your hips, of your breasts, where the fabric skimmed your skin, barely there and yet somehow holding everything in place. His mind raced with a million thoughts, none of them coherent.

His cock started to hurt against his pants, tightening and throbbing and more than ready for attention.

A slow smile, as confident as it was mischievous, spread across your face. You knew the effect you were having. So you decided to break the delicious silence. Casually placing your hands on your hips, you tilted your head at a playful angle. "So," you finally said,  "What do you think, babe?"

Luke's predicament was comical. His eyes darted back and forth like a trapped animal, taking in every inch of your exquisite form. His mind, usually sharp and focused, was a tangled mess. The hand that had previously covered his mouth now rubbed his face in frustration as he groaned. You giggled softly, a faint blush crept up your own cheeks.

It finally stopped over his eyes as if to shield himself from the overwhelming image. "Are you trying to kill me?" he finally wheezed, his voice devoid of its usual smooth charm. It sounded more like the desperate gasp of a man who'd just run a marathon in the desert heat.

You pretended to think of an answer. "Maybe a little" you admitted.

He dropped his hand, eyes roaming around your body once again. But Luke tore his gaze away for a moment, locking eyes with you. His gaze held yours for a beat before his body finally seemed to catch up with his mind.

He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. You stood perfectly still with your arms on your sides, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. A mix of anticipation and nervous excitement bubbled in your stomach.

He approached you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He then stopped just inches from you. His hand reached out to yours, slowly tracing a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Twirl around for me" he whispered, his voice thick with need.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile. You couldn't hold back the amusement bubbling within you. He was completely captivated, a delicious side effect of your surprise.

But you played along, your smile softening as you held his hand properly. You lifted your hand and Luke´s above your head, mimicking the movement of a dancer as you twirled with a slow, and deliberate spin.

Luke watched you, mesmerized, his eyes following your every move. The dip of your back, the lack of fabric there. The way the little piece of clothes exposed your ass, making him clench his free hand in a fist to prevent himself from touching you like he wanted. He looked like a man possessed, his breathing ragged, his gaze devouring every inch of you.

"Wow" he finally managed, the word escaping his lips in a breathless sigh. It was a simple word, but the way he said it was enough. You had left him speechless, officially.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

He seemed to choke on his saliva. "Like?" he echoed, the word barely a squeak. His hands, warm and calloused, reached for your hips. He squeezed gently, twice. His fingers dipped under the delicate lace on the sides of your hips, the rough contrast against your soft skin sending a delicious shiver down your spine. "Baby, I—" he started, his voice thick with desire.  But he cut himself off, a breathless laugh escaping his lips.

"Can't speak?" you teased, leaning closer, your lips hovering a tantalizing breath away from his.

“I can´t think” he admitted. His hands roamed further, exploring the curve of your waist.

You stand on your tip toes, brushing your lips against his. You feel his hands tightening its grip on your waist, pulling you in ever more, your body pressed against him. "What do you want to do with me, Luke?" you whispered, your voice laced with a seductive challenge.

He no longer bothered with words. Instead, his strong hands took a sudden grip on your thighs, just below your ass, as he lifted you effortlessly off your feet. Your legs wrap unconsciously around his waist and your arms across his neck as you let out a soft laugh. You found yourself face-to-face with him, his gaze devouring yours with intensity before he took a grip on the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours.

With long steps, he walked backwards until he felt the bed against the back of his legs, softly sitting down on the mattress as you properly sat on his lap. He wouldn´t let you breath, constantly stealing the air from your lungs as he kissed you hungrily, messily. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip constantly, tempting to bite.

You let out a soft moan against Luke´s lips when one of his hands smacks down on one of your ass cheeks, then gripping on the red flesh.

“Do we have time?” he asks breathlessly against your lips.

“We always do” you reply.

Sex with Luke was a filled with passion and intensity, each encounter a crescendo of pleasure that left you both breathless and wanting more, each encounter better than the last.

Luke's dominance was a force to be reckoned with, his touch both tender and commanding as he explored every inch of your body. He reveled in the sight of you clad in that tantalizing lingerie, his desire burning brighter with each passing moment.

With a hunger that matched your own, Luke lavished attention on you, his lips and hands mapping every curve, every contour. He teased a lot, his fingers dancing over the fabric, snapping it, twirling it, each movement growing the wetness in between your legs.

His mouth finding every sensitive spot. Your cries of ecstasy echoed through the cabin as his tongue lapped over your cunt, with your fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged ever so often. The sounds were wet, dirty, grotesque even, but that’s just how Luke was; so desperate for you that he didn’t even think what he was doing, just focusing on what made you feel good.

As you straddled him, your bodies moving along, Luke fought to hold back the pleasure that threatened to consume him. But with each roll of your hips, each gasp that escaped your lips, his control slipped further and further away.

"O-oh, fuck" he groaned. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession, his hips meeting yours with a primal urgency that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

With the afternoon sun casting golden rays through the windows, you both knew that discretion was key. But as your moans threatened to betray you, Luke's hand found its way to your lips. He didn’t need to ask.

Your lips wrapped eagerly on his thumb, the rest of his fingers gripping on your jaw.

"So needy, sweetheart" he whispered, his voice a deliciously sinful melody that sent shivers down your spine. "So needy for my cock, huh?"

Luke ravaged you, his cock slamming into you with a force that bordered on brutality, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the cabin like a primal drumbeat.

It felt almost animalistic. He never got rid of your clothes —if you could call it ‘clothes’—, his forehead shining with sweat, his chest red and lips parted just inches away from yours. You were his weakness, and having you like this, hopping on his cock frenetically and wearing something that was just for him… it drove him mad.

“You’re mine. All mine, right?” he asked, tilting his head. You knew he was close, by the way his hands now gripped on your ass, letting him take full control of the roll of your hips, occasionally pulling at the sides of your thong. You struggled for a bit, your movements becoming as sloppy and as messy as his, less precise, but you managed;

“Yes. Yes, Luke, I’m yours”

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @b-side-vinyl

A/N: Thank you so much for the commission! This was very interesting to write, a very fun concept. For everyone else, this is filthy, 5k of pure filth. Enjoy!

Request: Essentially I’d like the plot to be with a trans masc human character sort of stuck in these monster infested woods. To get out of it, he travels this path and sleeps with a few (1-3 varieties) monsters and essentially gets bred by them (no actual pregnancy just fucked real good. You can do eggs if you want). I’d like for there to be some knotting if possible, if not that’s fine. The main thing I want to happen is this dude getting fisted by the pale man from pans labyrinth. Literally just do what you want with the rest. If there are more creatures that is. And I’d like for the character to be enjoying himself with this, I don’t want any serious dub con.

Quest to ecstasy

Monsters (werewolf, gator-monster, pale man) x transmasc!reader || dom/sub (light), oral sex, knotting, breeding, oviposition, fisting, dirty talk (kinda)

When the fortune teller said you had to complete a quest if you wanted to be fully yourself, you didn’t believe them. But after what felt like an eternity in search of something missing, something inside of you that didn’t feel quite right… You started to comprehend it wasn’t just a riddle.

You really needed to complete some kind of quest for you to feel completely settled into your body.

That’s how you found yourself back into the forest. Back into that deep, dark place where the witch lived. You had packed for a few days, not knowing what exactly you were signing yourself to, but ready to find whatever it was out there for you.

What awaited for you wasn’t the witch, though. When you set a foot inside the tree line, a weird orange creature appeared from thin air. Their looks were so weird you screamed, falling back and tripping. You ended up with your ass on the ground and a single tear running down your cheek. The creature looked at you with their head tilted, clearly confused.

“You came to my realm in search of something… Why?” The creature in front of you was looking more and more weird which each second, and it was messing with your brain. They awoke the uncanny valley inside of your brain and made you shiver.

“I- I want to complete the quest.”

“You do? Interesting.” With each movement it made you cringe a bit more, trying to disappear to not be scrutinized by them. “I wasn’t expecting you until a couple more years… Guess you are an early case. Okay human…”

You hesitated before asking: “Will you… Will you tell me what I have to do? What I’m looking for?” They approached you, and you stepped back, scared that they were going to attack you or something.

“Fear not, human. I will not hurt you. You just need to pay close attention to your quest.” You nodded, the fear not really leaving your body, too tense to even talk. They approached you and touched your forehead. A warm feeling filled your body as they said: “You need to reach deep within you, deep within the woods, only then you’ll find the answer to your need.”

“Can you be more precise?” You were confused, that didn’t mean absolutely nothing to you. You needed answers, not more riddles.

“No. You’ll find out on your own. Good luck.” And they disappeared. They disappeared and left you there, confused and with a dark forest before you.

Before you could hesitate and back down, you stepped into the forest.

You walked for what felt like hours, until you could barely see anything and your feet hurt. You sat on a rock, gulping down some water and panting, your body sore.

A voice behind you made you jump. “What do we have here? A handsome human…” You looked at him and stared. He was furry. Tall and muscular and… like a werewolf. There was a fucking werewolf in front of you, and he was so hot you felt like melting right there. “Are you lost?” He asked. You shook your head, unable to talk. “What are you looking for then, boy?”

You breathed hard, trying to get your rabbit-fast heart under control. He made you nervous and excited all at once, something inside of you jumping in joy. “I- I’m here to complete a quest,” you muttered. You weren’t expecting to find anyone so early, but you knew without a doubt that he was the one you were looking for. The first part of your quest.

He grunted in acknowledgment and asked: “What kind of quest?” He sat down in front of you.

You looked at him, eye to eye now that he was on the ground. “I have no idea. They- the creature didn’t tell me.” You felt stupid, but he was so hot your brain couldn’t process long sentences anymore.

He smelled the air, ignoring your words and instead saying: “You smell delicious, like a fresh pie.” He approached you on hands and knees until he was right before you, his snout close to your legs. “What is that smell… Is that your desire human, do you desire me?” He parted your legs without preamble and smelled your already dripping cunt under your pants. Fuck, why was that so hot?

“I- I- Maybe…” You told him, it sounded more like a question that an affirmation and he chuckled. You were confused by this development. You didn’t know what to tell him, you only knew you felt your cunt dripping and desire pooling lower. You wanted to grab his head and make him do it again, but embarrassment stopped you.

He looked up at you, his eyes so big and with a hint of danger behind them… That made you whimper. “Maybe?” He asked again, smelling the air once again and grunting in pleasure.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I do,” you confessed. Your face was burning, but your desire was burning higher than the embarrassment. The heat inside of you was almost unbearable, you needed something. You needed him to do something to you. And if he didn’t… You didn’t know what would happen, but you knew it wouldn’t be good.

“Do you want us to fuck?” He asked, looking at you almost hopeful.

“I- I don’t know.” You did know, but the embarrassment and self-consciousness got the best of you once again. You cursed yourself in your brain over and over.

He looked at you disapprovingly. “You need to say what you want, boy. I don’t read minds… But I can smell your desire, you are ready like a ripe fruit. You want this, don’t you?” His words made you hotter, juices soaking your undergarments. Fuck, you didn’t remember being this ready like… ever.

“Ye- yes.” That answer left you without thinking about it, but it felt like something inside of you released. Something left your body and ascended, and you felt lighter.

He looked up at your face again, something hot and dark dancing behind his eyes. “Tell me what do you want me to do to you, then. Be specific.” You breathed hard, your heart accelerating once again.

You tried to filter your thoughts, too fast and too messy to get anything across. But then you just knew what you wanted, something inside of you telling exactly what you had to say, “I- I want you to eat me out. I want you to make me come with your mouth.” You felt your body burning as he started lowering your pants, exposing your undergarments to his prying eyes. He licked his lips when he saw the wet patch there.

“Yes… Good boy.” You felt your face flush at his words. He took your undergarments off, too, slowly lowering them until they were neatly stacked over your pants.

He planted his hands on your inner thighs, breathing hard against your center, but not touching you just yet. “What else?” He urged, his hands tightening. You were sure that was going to leave bruises. Fuck, that thought was so hot.

You kept going, your words getting stuck in your throat, but you pushed through. “I- I want your mouth over my hole. Over my holes…” You never had asked anybody to rim you before, and now it just… felt right. “I want you to eat all of me, to take me over the edge over and over.” You told him. With each word, your body felt lighter and your cunt wetter. His tongue traced patterns over your your hip and making you shiver.

“Keep going…” His mouth was dangerously close to where you needed him most, but he didn’t touch you.

Then you breathed out, “I want your tongue inside me, I want your claws holding my hips down so you can stop my frantic motions.” That confession was a bit too much for your frantic brain, but you got it out without an itch, a special part inside of you telling you it was okay. He would understand, he would deliver. “And then I want you to fuck me, to breed me.”

He smirked up at you, his fangs glistening. The image was enough to make you whimper. “Yes, yes. I can do that.” And then he launched.

The first contact of his tongue against your cunt made you shiver. His claws were right over your hips, holding your body down as he made out with your hole until you were dripping. But he didn’t stop there, he kept going down, licking over your asshole and making your eyes roll back into your head. You had never felt such a good tongue, such a good mouth. Every experience you had before him paled in comparison to his abandon.

He ate you out, sucking, licking, going up and down… His tongue and lips seemed to be everywhere at once, and you were struggling under him, trying to get him closer, trying to make him move. Your hands found his head and you pulled at his hair, making him grunt and attack your pussy with fervor. You did it again and he growled, so you did it again. It became a game, you pulled at his hair and he sucked on your most sensitive parts. It was the best oral you’d ever gotten, and he was enjoying himself even more than you if the sounds he was making were any indication.

“Such good holes, so beautiful, so soft and wet for me.” His words against your skin felt like thunder before a storm, and when he drove right in, your body exploded. You came around his mouth and soaked most of his face, he complimented you over and over as you came down. He looked at you with the biggest smirk on his face as you recovered. “You want more?”

You were about to say you couldn’t when he stood up and drove his dick right into you. His dick was so big, but you were so wet from his previous assault to your hole. He fucked you hard and fast, with abandon. You came once, twice, three more times.

“Are you ready to take my knot?” You nodded, lost in pleasure.

You felt his knot at your entrance as he pushed inside one more time, stretching you to the point of distress but the pleasure overtook it. You struggled under him as his knot filled you to the brim. He came, and came, and came… He bred you until you felt so full you felt like exploding, just to grind his hips against you and made you come again.

By the time he was done, your hole was gaping and his cum was leaking out of you. His smug smile was so big he looked like a madman. You wanted to smack him, but also wanted to kiss him senseless until he couldn’t smile anymore. So you did just that. You made out for a few minutes as your heat regained its normal pace and he slowly cleaned you out with some warm cloth you didn’t know where he got from.

His dreamy look made you blush as he said, “you did great, boy. The next part won’t be so easy on you.” A spark of anxiety bloomed inside of you, but his hand caressed your cheek softly as you relaxed once again. “You have to go to the river and find the one whose eggs they crave.” His words were weird but you nodded, already assuming he wasn’t going to tell you anything else.

Your cunt was a bit sore as you walked. The directions the werewolf gave you too imprecise to know where you were really headed to. But you kept walking. If the first part of the quest was finished and you found it on your own, you trusted the universe to point you in the right direction.

After a couple hours, you found the river. You walked alongside it, expecting whatever part of the quest to appear before you or at least some kind of signal. And it definitely did.

A big scaled monster was exiting the water like an alligator. He was walking on two feet, but his arms and legs were covered in scales. His face was elongated, pointy fangs on each side of his mouth. He looked dangerous and scary, but the second he saw you, he cheerfully said: “Hi there! Are you the human the witch sent?” He sounded hopeful and excited to see you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at him.

“She- She told you?” You asked. You haven’t talked to the witch at all, but if you got here, you guessed he was right, she sent you to him.

He nodded, his elongated face bobbing up and down and making him look adorable as he smiled. “She said she would help my family, and then I see you next to my river… So I guessed.” That made sense, but how would you help if you didn’t even know why you were there?

“What do you mean she would help your family, how would I do that?” You questioned, as confused as him.

He nodded, looking you up and down and saying: “You’ll be the recipient.”

“Recipient? For what?” You tried not to sound too panicked, but probably failed.

“My family…” He cleared his throat, a raspy sound exiting his mouth as his voice broke. “My family needs money, and our eggs sell for a better price if they touch a human first.” He said it was if that meant something to you, which it didn’t. You were as confused as earlier.

“What does that mean?” You asked again.

He hesitated for a few seconds before answering you, “I- I need you to take my eggs and then lay them for me.” Eggs? How would you do that? Was he supposed to get the eggs inside of you? That… That made sense. His hopeful smile was enough to convince you it was the right thing to do.

But an idea crossed your mind, “Will it hurt?” You were okay with oviposition, but pain wasn’t really your thing.

He smiled, already knowing you’d say yes. “No, human. It won’t. They say it’s quite pleasurable, actually.” His smirk made your insides turn and heat pooled in your lower abdomen.

“Okay… Okay. I’ll do it.” You agreed.

Before you could realize, you were naked and he was over you, his claws pinching your nipples and telling you how pretty you were, how handsome and how good you’d look with his eggs inside of you. You shivered, his words making you hot and bothered, your cunt already dripping.

You felt his dick against your hole before he started to press inside, he wasn’t as big as the werewolf, but the texture of his dick was doing marvels to your insides. It was like the best toy you’d ever tried, maybe even better. He started slow, asking how you were, how you liked it. With each pump of his hips, his scales rubbed perfectly against your sensitive parts, making you cry out. You were drunk on pleasure already, his ridges massaging your G-spot with every thrust.

He gained speed, fucking in and out of you like a madman and growling at each thrust. And then he came for the first time, and something stretched you. There was something going up his dick and inside of you. The sensation was another level of weird, but it felt incredibly inside of you. So good that you screamed and came around him. That threw him off, coming again and filling you with another egg.

You felt big, your stomach distended as they pushed deep inside of you one last time. You didn’t know how many orgasms he had, how many you had… You didn’t know how many eggs he laid inside of you… but it was so good.

You came again at the same time you heard him say, “good job, human… You got them all.” He pulled out of your gaping hole and smiled down at you, helping you accommodate against his chest.

His words confused you, but the pleasure was so great you had to take two deep breaths before answering. “Wha- what?”

He chuckled, like you were a silly goose for asking that. Your brain still was fuzzy with pleasure. “Now we wait.” He hugged you closely.

You pushed his chest. “What?! What do you mean we wait? You didn’t say we had to wait!” You looked down and saw it, your stomach distended, not too big, but definitely something was inside there.

“The eggs will be ready soon, then you have to push them out and they’ll be ready.” His voice was even and controlled, his smile so big you couldn’t be mad at him for not telling you it won’t be an immediate process. Fuck, it would be easier if he wasn’t cute.

So you waited. He feed you some fish he caught, and covered you with a blanket as you felt the eggs move and twist inside of you. It was so weird, but not bad.

You felt a big pinch in your lower back, not painful, but weird. And then something slimy ran down your leg. “I think- I think they are ready,” you told him, panic settling on you momentarily. You took your blanket away and looked between your legs. And so did he.

You pushed down, trying to get them out as soon as possible. You were expecting more weirdness, but definitely you weren’t expecting the blinding pleasure that filled you when the first egg left your body. You felt it all the way down, slowly, pressing and stretching you from the inside out. You screamed as an orgasm ran through you. And then another as the second egg descended.

You came one time for each egg he laid, about ten. It was exhilarating and left your body feeling like a rag. So tired and so exhausted after so much pleasure… It was like your body didn’t respond to your commands, but it was such a great feeling you couldn’t be mad about it.

The gator-monster was looking at you with adoration in his eyes as he took all the eggs you just pushed out of your cunt. He kept saying “thank you, thank you, thank you…” as he carefully packed them into what looked like a basket.

He took a warm cloth and cleaned your hole carefully, applying some kind of balm that made you sigh with relief, the soreness instantly fading. “I could never thank you enough human… But for now, I can point you to the final part of your quest.” You nodded, grateful. “You have to cross the river and find the cave with the door.” You took mental note of his words. River. Cave with a door. “You got it?” He asked.

You stood up, pulling your pants up with you, covering yourself. “Yes. Yeah, I got it.” You took your bag and stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to him.

“I wish you the best, human.” His voice was truthful, and you smiled at him, after so many orgasms he felt like an old-friend more than a stranger.

“I hope those eggs sell for a good price.” You chuckled as you said it, completely confused about what all that was about but happy you could give him something.

“They will!” His grin was so big you wanted to laugh about how goofy he looked. His voice became soft again, “good luck, human.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit sad about leaving him, but ready to see what the quest still had for you.

He saw you leave with still unsteady legs, excited and thankful for what just happened. It was nothing like you expected, but it was rewarding in a way you had never felt before. You gave him something he needed, and it felt good. It felt great.

You walked away from him and crossed the river, a new energy in each step. You were tired and sore, but felt so content you couldn’t express it in words. You smiled at the little animals that crossed your path as you walked, life felt good in that moment. And you were so close…

You saw the big cave with the door, just as the gator predicted. You walked to it and found the door already open, a weird creature moving around. You stood there, mesmerized.

The creature in front of you was nothing sort of human, he looked alien-like, otherworldly. You were completely mesmerized by his movements and the way his body undulated as he moved. There was something about him that made your insides turn and twist. The things the witch said were true, you would know when you fount the final part of your quest. You know it was him.

He turned around and you had to swallow a scream. The creature had no eyes, just a pale empty face that twisted to the side when he realized you were there.

And then he raised his hands and you saw his eyes right there, in the middle of his palms. Nothing could have prevented you to scream then, not even a gag. You screamed at the top of your lungs, and he looked at you more intently, moving his fingers and making your panic raise, but also something else, something deeper.

Your insides twisted and turned and you could feel your hole getting wet once again. Everyone could have guessed it was too much, too difficult for you to get aroused again… But the mix of fear and arousal was once again making your undergarments sticky.

You got your breathing under control as he said: “You are here for a reason.” His curiosity for you was clear in his body, moving closer to you until his tall figure was so close you could feel his body heat. He smelled like pines and forest, but also like freedom, like the key to your freedom. “Are you ready for your final quest?” His question sounded ominous and you didn’t know if you were, but you were more than ready to find out, your cunt twitching in anticipation.

You looked at his eyes, still in front of his head, and told him stuttering: “Ye- yes.” He nodded and pointed to a mattress on the side of the room.

“Hand and knees, facing the wall…” You complied, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine as you felt his pointy fingers caressing the back of your thighs. “Such a pretty hole… So ready for me. Did they fuck you, human? Did the others had their fun with you?” You nodded, shy all of sudden. The idea that he could still see the evidence of the other two monster’s inside of you made you embarrassed, but also excited. You moaned, trying to hide your face in the pelt under you. “None of that, human. Face up, I want to hear every single noise you make.” You rose your head and looked at the wall, not knowing what he was going to do to you was exhilarating.

The first contact of his finger against your cunt made you shiver and push your ass back, trying to get him inside instantly. He growled and pinched your ass, making you scream, startled. “Ouch!”

“Behave. You had no control here, human.” You lowered your head, your face burning red with embarrassment.

He started a slow finger fucking, way too little. You needed more, you wanted more. But he already told you, you had no control over what happened, over what he did. You were there to complete your quest and he would do what he pleased, what it needed to be done. And apparently that was finger fuck you at such a slow pace that was making you crazy and desperate, even more needy.

You tried to push back again, and were rewarded with another pinch. Fuck. “You need to learn patience,” he told you. But he added another finger, and you sighed happily. Yes. Yes. More was good, more was great.

The gator-monster had already stretched you enough, you knew you could take a lot more than two of his fingers, but he didn’t fuck you harder nor faster. He took his time with you. He started slow, one finger in and out of your used hole. You moaned and groaned, asking for more. Pleading for more. He didn’t comply, he kept teasing your pleasure points with his long fingers until you were sweating and your legs were trembling under you, barely supporting your weight.

When your arms gave out and you face planted to the mattress, only then he added a second finger. He continued that slow torture that was making you drool and lose your mind second by second. You cried out when he pressed against your G-spot and started massaging it. It was amazing and the worst torture at the same time.

“Please, please, please…” You kept chanting, but he didn’t listen.

“Patience, human.” His completely calm voice annoyed you, but the annoyance was soon replaced by a new wave of pleasure as he added a third finger. You couldn’t even imagine how did it look for him, his eye so close to your center.

In and out, in and out. He pushed another finger inside. The fourth was already a stretch, at least the same size of the werewolf dick, but with so much more range of movement. He scissored them inside, opening you up, tickling your insides, reaching parts of you didn’t know existed. Your pleasure was so high you couldn’t stop screaming, a chorus of ah ah ah leaving your mouth at every movement of his fingers inside of you.

And then you felt his fifth finger slipping inside, the stretch so awesome you felt a gush of juices dripping out of your hole. He grunted and asked you to breathe, but it was almost impossible with the assault to your senses.

When he pushed in his knuckles, and then his whole fist, you screamed, coming around his hand and making him groan behind you. His knuckles were pressing against your G-spot so hard you felt like you could implode into a million pieces. It was the highest you’d ever gotten to the sky. It felt too much and nothing at all, it felt like the universe was at arms reach but you couldn’t move to touch it.

“You are doing amazing, human. Come for me again.” You wanted to tell him it was too much, but your body had a mind of their own and it complied. You came again. He was fucking you with his whole fist, half of his forearm inside of you at some point. Your brain was completely off-line. “Again,” he ordered. And you were unable to stop the next orgasm.

You felt stretched to the extreme, so much and so good you couldn’t stop moving your ass back, meeting his thrusts. You were acting nothing like yourself, or at least the self you were before the quest. Maybe this was the discovery. Maybe you needed to understand yourself better, to realize you needed more, needed so much more… And he gave it to you. He gave everything to you.

He fisted you for what felt like hours, making you come over and over until you were begging for him to stop. He didn’t. He kept going until you were a mess and the pleasure and pain were one big sensation inside of you. At some point it became too much and you fainted. You woke up with him still going at it, your cunt still stretched around his hand and your pleasure too high for you to come again. You didn’t think you could come again anytime soon.

But he proved you wrong.

He made you come at least three more times before your brain faded into darkness again, something inside of you breaking down. You felt it. You felt that something opening and leaving your body as a feeling of completely elation filled you.

Ecstasy.

And then darkness.

When you woke up, he was already there, looking at you with his weird hand-eyes. “You are ready to leave, human… I’ll walk you to the clearing.” He had already cleaned you and re-dressed you, all your stuff piled next to your bag. You packed everything rapidly, not wanting to make him wait for you.

He accompanied you to the entrance of the forest, right where you began your journey and waved his weird hands at you as he returned to the forest. You felt revitalized. Not a single sore muscle in you. You stood there for a long time, the sun rising behind you and setting shadows around you. The world felt different around you, brighter.

You learned to take your pleasure. You learned to give to others. And you learned to let go of your inhibitions. Maybe the witch was right, maybe the creature, too… You needed the quest, you needed to go through all that to realize you weren’t some kind of weird person for expressing your needs, for taking them into your own or for making it so others could meet them. You… You felt full of life.

For the first time ever you felt complete and okay in your own skin.

Remember you can also commission me, all info here.

[almightyelectro]

@octoboltflash asked:

[NOODLES] Hand resting on the end of the pool noodle as if it were her actual sword, Acheron makes a swift movement mimicking that of an unsheathing. Her 'blade' is brandished in a challenge, eyes narrowing as her focus attenuates to the other woman before her. "A storm's on the horizon. Will you weather the gales, or be consumed by oblivion?"

x x x

Such strange toys. While it makes sense that they wouldn't want anyone using a real sword during what was meant to be a 'fun time at the beach' (something she learned first hand by being challenged by another stranger, summoning her sword only for other beachgoers to run in fear), such flimsy things could hardly be used the same as a sword.

Still, she raises her blade, the 'tip' pointed towards her opponent. A...familiar looking woman, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. No, it was more like she didn't want to admit it.

"A storm...worry not, I have no intention of stepping down because of a little bad weather." There is the slightest hint of a spark in her eyes at the mention of oblivion. Such a concept...was an enemy of hers. Her nails dig into the foam, though she doesn't dare move. Such was the way of an honorable battle. "Never will I give in to oblivion-- not so long as the storm guides my blade."

...Even if it was a fake one.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

The Complexities of The Past

✰ husband!art x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.8k

✰ summary: tashi still affects art, and you're the only one who can pull him out of the pit she dug him in.

✰ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, au where tasha and art were never married, sad sad art.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ art donaldson m.list

⋆ gif by @supersoldierslover

Tensions were high as you stood with your husband, Art, in the tunnel leading to the court. You can hear the bass of the music along with the constant flow of chatter fill the stands. Looking over at Art, you can tell he’s laser focused. His past few matches weren’t the best, and there has been a lot of pressure on him with the U.S. Open coming up in a few months. 

Panning your gaze down, you can see he’s fiddling with the strap of his bag. His nerves were getting the best of him. You reach for his hand, “Hey,” his head whips towards you, “you’re going to kill it; like you always do.” 

He places his other hand over yours, keeping your calming touch with him. “I love you,” he leans down and gives you a kiss. 

A staff member approaches the two of you to let Art know that it’s time to make his entrance and all you can do is squeeze his hand and smile. “I love you too,” you touch lingering for as long as possible as he begins to walk off. 

As he begins to make his way to the court, he turns back a final time and takes another look at you. He smiles at the thought of you being at each of his matches, always giving him a kiss before he gives his all. He’s sure he wouldn’t have made it this far without you, and he thanks whoever is above for you. 

With the announcement of his name booming in the speakers, followed with the roaring cheer of the spectators, you begin to head to your seat. 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

With the last call, you immediately stand from your seat to meet with Art. He won the match, but you could tell something was plaguing his mind. He loves this sport, but today, his expression didn’t show that. His serves were aggressive, and every time he sat down during a changeover, his eyes desperately found yours. 

Checking back in with staff, you made your way back to the tunnel, anxiously awaiting your husband. You knew something was off, but you still greeted him with a big smile and a ‘congratulations’. It wasn’t until his hug gave him away. He buried his face in your neck, and held you there for a little longer than usual. With that, you take his hand and lead him to the car. Your hand never left his, even when fake smiles had to appear for fans and cameras. 

It felt like an eternity when you were on your way to the hotel. The short drive filled with a heavy silence that didn’t disappear until you were both inside your room. Art immediately dropped his bags and sat on the couch, a sigh escaping his lips as he brought a hand up to his eyes, wiping the day’s stress from them. You place your stuff down on the table before approaching him, “What happened out there, baby?”

He tilts his head back to rest on the cushion, “Tashi was there.” It was a short sentence, but the weight of it struck a chord in you. 

Tashi Duncan was always a tough subject for you. She hurt and manipulated Art in unfathomable ways, and you’ll never understand her mind. But you knew the toll she took on Art, and you’d be damned if she ever made him feel like that again. 

It hurts to see that she still affects him, “I’m sorry–.” 

“Why can’t I just forget about her? One glance at her and I’m that nineteen-year-old kid again,” his frustration is getting the best of him, his hands covering his face. 

“Honey, you cannot blame yourself,” you shift your body towards him, “what she did to you for years is an unforgettable and traumatizing experience. You were young, going through something you should’ve never encountered.” You hear him sniff under his hands, and your throat tightens. You place a hand on his thigh, “It was never your fault.”

He slowly lowers his hands, and you’re met with bloodshot eyes. Bringing your other hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes, he relishes your touch. 

“And if you need me to tell her off, I will,” you joke, pulling a breathy laugh from Art’s lips. You knew his relationship with Tashi was complicated in ways you may never understand, but being his biggest cheerleader through the good and the bad was enough for him. 

✰ author's note: art donaldson brain rot is a disease, and im sick. also i don't hate tashi. i just think she's...interesting and needs to be studied deeper. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!!! ok, byeeee.

[fangirl-dot-com]

🏆 Sei a Casa, Charles 

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Light smut Summary: Monaco finally loved him back. Charles is home.

*my long awaited Charles Monaco win imagine! it is completed after my computer was finally fixed and after 30+ hours of having no power at my house. it's been a rough couple of days, but I'm still reeling in the moment that Charles won his home race.

*A big thank you goes to @pucksandpower for helping me with the smut parts. you all know that I can't write anything beyond a small make out sesh. you all will know what parts she wrote! but look for this ✨ if you want to skip it!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

You couldn’t pick out the exact moment of when you started to cry. 

Was it lap 1? Lap 20? Lap 76? Maybe tears finally started to leak from your eyes as you stood under the podium, waiting for the love of your life to finally appear? Or were the tears drops of champagne that flowed from his winner’s bottle? 

You didn’t know, but you knew that the pride in your heart could not be contained internally. It had to escape somewhere, so it formed itself into tears that were shed as you watched the whole vast of Monaco finally love Charles back. 

You remembered the past times you cried as you stood below. 

Tears from him, from you, and from the both of you stained the past asphalt here in the principality. Disappointment after disappointment would forever be written in the streets of Monte Carlos. However, today was the rain that would wash everything away. 

Today was the day the sun finally shone once again. 

But the sun would not dry the tears of pride from your face, you wouldn’t let it. The testament of your love and pride could make divots in your face for the rest of time, and you’d never want to fill them. 

The applause around you grew as Carlos walked out, waving below. You could guess that the Spaniard knew that these people weren’t for him. They weren’t for anyone other than the green-eyed man in red. 

More applause sounded as the green and yellow suit of Oscar stood out against the red of everything else. Your partially adopted son for the weekend caught your eye and gave you a sad smile. You could only shake your head, hoping to relay that these tears were finally not for a broken heart. 

The moment the applause grew to screams, yells, and everything in between, you knew what it meant. In this moment, everything stood still in the chaos. Flags of red, yellow, red and white flew around your face. Joris stood behind you, hand on the small of your back to keep you steady. 

But like you, his tears didn’t stop: they multiplied. 

Finally, you had the courage to look up and gaze upon the subject of praise that would ring for all of eternity. You couldn’t help but join in, making a small dent in history for yourself. 

Pride seemed to double, tripling the number of tears that fell. You knew a camera was focused on you, but nothing could take your eyes away from him on the step, flag in his trembling hands. You were almost silently saying, “Turn the camera on the man who has rewritten his and the country’s history.” 

You watched as your prince wrapped his arms around his most precious gift. No one had been able to do what he did. A national treasure for the rest of time. 

You witnessed your princess hug him dearly. His hands still trembled as he clutched his red and white flag. If it made him feel any better, you were trembling too, along with the hosts of Monaco. The people trembled in their spots, the flags swished back and forth. Hell, the boats in the port still roared for him, almost thirty minutes after he had crossed that beloved finish line. 

When he finally turned to face the crowd below, your world went silent as your focus pinpointed on Charles. 

History’s Charles. Monaco’s Charles. Formula One’s Charles. 

Your Charles. 

A laugh finally bullied its way through your tears as you saw him accidentally drop the flag and scramble to pick it up. Joris had started to rub your back, knowing that you needed some comfort. Where Joris was, there you were too. 

The two of you liked to claim both spots of Charles’s right and left sides. Deemed the best WAGs by fans everywhere, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere but next to the boys. He had had a chance to race down to see your race winner before he had to go to the cooldown room. You had wanted to run with him, an invisible force wanted to drag you along. But you had stayed, to comfort and hug the people around you. 

Where Joris was on your left, Arthur was on your right. He looked so much like his brother. The boy, who you had watched grow through his own disappointments and sorrows, also had his tears. 

Today, however, every tear shed was the opposite of sorrows. They weren’t of heavy hearts or disappointments. 

Every tear shed was pride incarnate. 

The podium ended with Charles almost being drowned by his teammate and “adopted son.” How you wished you could be up there with him. You knew, though, that you’d have your time with him soon. 

When you were allowed to leave, Charles’s driver room was the first place you’d go. In the back of your mind, you knew that he’d still be a while, the media taking up his time. And after was the principality dinner, and then probably Jimmyz with however many people you could fit in the club. 

But then, after the whole of Monaco had a piece of him, he’d be yours. 

The door opening caught your attention as you looked up from your phone. Many say that second- or third-place-Charles still had a smile, but it wasn’t a true one. Today was a testament to that stamen as he walked in with the biggest smile on his face. 

If he could shine, he’d rival the sun. 

A sigh escaped Charles’s lips when he saw you sitting on his couch after he was done with media. He could see that your mascara had slightly run, the only clues that you had cried. 

“Mon ange,” he said as he dove into your awaiting arms. He felt damp under your hands, a mix of champagne and port water. You were ready for him to drop on you, and you welcomed the familiar weight. 

“My race winner,” you whispered, pressing a long kiss to his hairline. Charles had none of that as he leaned up to press his lips against yours, wanting a true feeling of you next to him. He could die happily now if he needed to. 

Your hands wrapped themselves in his hair, lightly tugging him back so that you could breathe. A low whine escaped him, making you lean your head back in laughter: his favorite sound of all. 

“We have to get going,” you gently reminded him, already in the process of standing up. “And you need to shower. You stink.” 

When you looked back down, Charles was definitely trying the puppy eyes on you, a pout joining on his lips. You shook your head. 

“None of that, Char. You know that only Leo can pull off the eyes.” 

Grumbles responded as he begrudgingly pulled himself off the couch. You knew that you only had a certain amount of time before people came looking for Charles. At that moment, you wanted to whisk him away, keep him from anyone for the rest of the night. However, your moments together wouldn’t happen until either late into the night or early in the morning. 

You could wait, he’s waited long enough for this. 

As the two of you quickly got ready after Charles biked home, which you thought was ridiculous, you enjoyed the quiet of your home. He seemed a bit on the quiet side, but you thought that he might be saving his energy for what was to come. You had picked out a very nice black dress that hugged your figure in just the right areas. 

When you walked into the living area, Charles’s back was to you, his hand patting his pocket. You cleared your voice, making him turn around. 

Charles’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. He stalked over and placed his hands on your hips, bringing you flush against him. 

“I think I must have died for an angel is before me.” 

You scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly. 

“I must have done something good in my past life to have my own prince,” you said, hands joining together at his nape. Charles, aware of the time, led you over to the door, opening it for you. Below, his Ferrari Competizione waited to take you to the dinner. 

Charles didn’t know what he was expecting when he got there, but a standing ovation wasn’t one of them. You had to hold back more tears, as you didn’t want your makeup to be ruined. You stood with the halls of Monaco to honor Charles for his moment. 

Pascale, Arthur, and Joris watched you as you kept clapping with the others. The three knew that you loved Charles probably more than you loved anything else in life. You two had been together for five years, going through the ups and downs together. It was hard, but your love strengthened with every hurdle. 

When Charles got to sit back down as they started on the first course, you leaned over. 

“So, are you going to be knighted or something now?” 

Your question made him snort as he wiped his hands on his pants. It was probably nerves. He licked his lips, eyes flittering at the three who were watching on with hopeful eyes. In his mind, he knew that Antoine was waiting behind at a different table.

“I was hoping to be titled something else?” 

You cocked your head. “Oh? What were you thinking?” 

He didn’t answer, but his head moved to look at something on the table. Your eyes followed his line of sight to a small black box sitting in front of your plate.

Oh. 

You whipped your head back to Charles, who had a hopeful smile on his face. Your hands rose to cover your mouth. 

“You’re being serious?” you questioned, voice hitching with excitement. The small nod of his head made you want to squeal, but you kept in inside. Charles knew that you were a bit on the shyer side and probably didn’t want him to get down on one knee, so he gently reached over to grab the box. He turned to you and popped it open.

He grabbed the bottom of your chair and slid it next to him so that your shoulders were touching. He looked over, and it was his turn to have tears sliding down his cheeks. 

“Mon coeur. Mon amour. Mon soleil. Mon vie. You are the best thing that I have in this world, and after today I know that no race win could ever compare to you. Please let me be happy for the rest of my life with you.” 

This time, you let the tears fall as you nodded your head. “Yes.” 

Charles let out a sigh of relief as he took the ring from the box and slid it on your finger. Small claps came from the three at the table, as to not bring attention to the sweet and intimate moment. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips and rested your forehead against his. 

“Only if you’ll let me be happy for the rest of my life with you.” 

Charles lost his voice, too deep in emotion and happiness to answer. So, a simple nod would have to make due. 

Arthur decided to make a statement. “You both are going to get so wasted tonight.” 

The table erupted with laughter, because you knew he was correct. Charles deserved a party, and that’s what he was going to get. 

You at least had the smart thought process to keep your ring at the bottom of your purse that you carried in the club. Your hand clutched the handle, not letting anyone get near it in fear of having it be ripped out of your hand. 

Pierre was one of the first to congratulate you and Charles. The Frenchman held the two of you in his arms as he whispered congratulations. He wasn’t the only driver that knew of Charles’s plan. 

You smiled as your eyes caught Charles with the Monaco flag over his head. You had to pause your conversation with Max, jutting your head in the Monegasque’s direction. 

“I better go get him.” 

Max wiggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t want him to get into an inchident would we?”  

You playfully bumped your shoulder against his as you walked in Charles’s direction. If you thought your boyfriend’s eyes were wide before, they found even more room to widen when he made eye contact with you. 

Charles raised his arms up. “Mon ange! Everyone, it’s my fiancé! I’m getting married!” 

You wanted to wince as you prayed that everyone either was too drunk to comprehend his screeching or that they couldn’t hear him over the sound of the bass. 

You grabbed his arm and brought him closer. “I think it’s time to go home.” 

He nodded immediately. “Oui, oui. We need to go make beuacoup de bebes!” 

You flushed red under the lights of the club as Charles now dragged you along, Monegasque flag still over his head. Now you were really hoping that no one heard. You knew that he was joking though. However, when you got home, he might have been serious. 

The bass of the club still rang in your ears as you stumbled through the door of your apartment, lips locked with Charles in a passionate kiss. He fumbles blindly for the light switch, finally bathing the entryway in a soft glow as you pull apart breathlessly. 

“Mon belle,” Charles murmurs huskily, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His eyes are shining with a mix of exhilaration and adoration. “My amazing fiancé. The true winner today.”

You let out a breathless giggle, feeling giddy and invincible in the wake of his historic Monaco win. “I just stood on the sidelines and cheered. You’re the one who drove like a demon out there.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says fervently, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands roam hungrily over the curve of your waist, the soft swell of your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the rumble of his groan against your mouth as your fingers tangle in his sweat-dampened curls.

“Bedroom,” you whimpered between heated kisses, already tugging at the buttons of his button up. “Now.”

✨

Charles needed no further encouragement, sweeping you up into his arms in one fluid motion. You let out a squeal of surprise that quickly morphs into breathless laughter as he carries you down the hallway. Kicking open the bedroom door, he deposits you onto the luxuriously soft mattress before stretching out beside you, propped up on one elbow.

“You are so beautiful, mon chérie,” he husks, trailing a line of scorching kisses along your jawline. “My perfect girl.”  

“And you’re an overachiever,” you tease, smoothing the crinkles from his furrowed brow with gentle fingers. “Winning your home race. Proposing at the principality dinner. What more could a you ever want?”

Charles let out a low chuckle, capturing your wandering hand and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Just you. It’s always you.”

You felt your cheeks warming at his words, the sheer intensity of his forest-eyed gaze. Even after all this time, he still had a way of making you feel like the only girl in the world. Sliding one hand around the back of his neck, you pull him down for a long, smoldering kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips between heated caresses. “My champion. Mon fiancé.”

He lets out a low groan, deepening the kiss until you’re both dizzily breathless and straining against each other with a rising tide of desire. His clever fingers are already making quick work of the buttons on your dress, pushing the satiny fabric off your shoulders in one smooth motion.  

You arch against him with a soft moan as his lips blaze a path over your collarbones, dancing lower to the hollow of your throat. Every brush of his mouth against your tingling skin has heat unfurling low in your belly. 

“Off,” you demand impatiently, tugging at the stubborn zipper of his pants until he finally kicks off the sweat-dampened fabric. His skin is feverishly hot to the touch, the lean muscles of his back rippling under your stroking palms as he settles over you.

Another breathless giggle escapes your lips as he nuzzles along the sensitive curve of your neck, whispering a stream of endearments. “You are insatiable.”

“Only for you, mon coeur,” he rumbles, amusement dancing in the depths of those enchanting eyes as he props himself up on his forearms to gaze down at you adoringly. “My everything. Ma vie.”

His mouth covers yours again in a long, drugging kiss that has your toes curling against the soft sheets. You lose yourself in the velvet glide of his tongue, the addictive taste of him, the delicious weight of his body pinning you to the mattress. Every nerve ending feels electrified by his scorching touch, every brush of skin against skin lighting up new sparks of longing.

When you finally break apart to catch your breath, Charles presses his forehead to yours with a contented sigh. “What did I do to deserve you, mon ange?”

Cradling his face in your hands, you meet his intense gaze steadily. “You won my love. Every single ounce of it.”

His smile is radiant, lighting up the room more brilliantly than a thousand racing spotlights as he leans in to capture your lips again. This time the kiss is softer, more tender — a communion between two souls completely lost in each other. He let his hand trail up your forearm and settled in in your palm. 

Your ring, that you had put back on in the car, felt cold against his fingers. He shivered at the feeling. You were his for the rest of his life. 

You and he lost all track of time in that blissful tangle of limbs, trading fevered caresses and breathless whispers of adoration. When climax was finally reached between the two of you, you let yourself bask in the pants coming from yours and his lips. 

Charles watched as you slightly winced as he pulled out, gently comforting you with sweet words. He quickly got up to grab a towel from the bathroom, wetting it with some water before going back to bed. Charles let his eyes gaze over your form, still coming down from the high. 

When he didn’t make any moves to get closer, you turned your head and sleepily smiled at him, arms reaching out. It was only then that Charles walked back over to the bed. He quickly wiped you down, and then himself before grabbing the duvet at the edge of the bed. 

You hummed lazily when the fluffy blanket was draped over your body. You scooted over and laid your head on his chest. 

“Welcome home, Charles. You’re finally home. Je t’aime.” 

Home, to him, would never be a place anymore. Because why would he need a place, when he could hold his home, his world, right in his arms. 

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, charliexy/n, and 3,644,920 others

charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️ thank you for everything, I love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

see more comments

f1crusade congrats! for everything, brilliant drive

charliexy/n CHARLES DID YOU TRY TO SNEAK IN AN ENGAGEMENT???

oscarpiastri congrats mom and dad! ❤️

y/n_l/n thank you son!

olliebearman KISS ASS I SAID I WANTED TO SAY IT FIRST

liamlawson NUH UH IT WAS ME

charles_leclerc it was actually none of you

logansargeant it was actually me ☺️

f1 ferrari champagne at the wedding on us!

y/nismother SHE'S GONNA BE Y/N LECLERC NOW I'M NOT READY

arthur_leclerc so, so proud of you ❤️ Jules and papa would be so proud

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

y/nleclerc I knew it!! I will never change my username EVER

scuderiaferrari that's our boy 🇲🇨☀️

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[lev1hei1chou]

A Dad's Promise

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo meets his baby for the first time Masterlist

The air in the hospital room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and nerves as Gojo Satoru paced back and forth outside the door. His heart raced with a flurry of emotions as he awaited news from the doctor. He couldn't wait to meet his newborn child, but at the same time, the weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and a nurse stepped out, a warm smile gracing her features. "Congratulations, Gojo-san. You have a healthy baby girl."

Relief washed over him as he entered the room, his eyes immediately drawn to you, his beloved partner, who was cradling their precious bundle in her arms. Your tired but radiant smile made his heart skip a beat.

"Hey love," you greeted softly, your voice filled with warmth and love. "Meet our little miracle."

Gojo approached the bed slowly, his gaze fixed on the tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. His breath caught in his throat as he beheld the sight of his daughter for the first time. She was so small, so fragile, yet he could feel an overwhelming surge of protectiveness welling up inside him.

Carefully, he reached out to stroke her cheek with a gentle finger, marveling at the softness of her skin. His heart swelled with an indescribable sense of awe and joy as he realized that this tiny being was a part of him, a part of the two of you.

"She's beautiful," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You smiled up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "She's perfect."

Gojo leaned down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before turning his attention back to their daughter. "Hey there, little one," he murmured, his voice tender as he gazed into her wide, innocent eyes. "I'm your daddy."

As if in response, the baby let out a small whimper, her tiny fingers curling around his own. It was a moment of pure magic, one that Gojo knew he would treasure for the rest of his life.

"I promise to always protect you," he vowed, his voice filled with determination. "No matter what challenges come our way, I'll be there for you. You and your mom mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt words, feeling the weight of his promise settle over you like a warm embrace. In that moment, you knew without a doubt that your little family was bound together by an unbreakable bond of love.

"Thank you, Darling," you whispered, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For everything."

He smiled down at you, his heart overflowing with love. "I love you," he said simply, his words carrying the weight of a thousand promises.

And as he looked down at his precious daughter, Gojo knew that no matter what the future held, as long as he had his family by his side, he would always find the strength to overcome any obstacle.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗡𝗫𝗜𝗘𝗧𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is just another fan at one of the Let's Trip Tour shows, until it comes time for the Meet&Greet. Things get out of hand for Matt, and she ends up being the only one who manages to calm him down.

WARNING: Panick attack, anxiety.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @patscorner

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The stage was illuminated by a myriad of lights, as the bustling crowd eagerly pressed near the front. Y/N could feel the electricity in the air as the beats of upbeat music keep echoing throughout the venue from the big speakers. It was the beginning of the much-awaited Sturniolo Triplets show from the Let's Trip Tour.

She couldn't believe she was finally there, in the middle of the action, about to witness the boys she'd followed through a screen for years, finally face to face. With her heart pounding in her chest, Y/N let herself be carried away by the infectious energy of the crowd as she got closer and closer to the stage.

The music reached a crescendo, and then, suddenly, they appeared. Matt, Nick, and Chris entered the stage, radiating a magnetic presence that immediately captured everyone's attention. Y/N held her breath as her eyes found Matt, the boy she had never seen in person, but with whom she had a huge crush for months, in the flesh right in front of her. He looked even more stunning out of screen, with his messy hair and shy smile.

As the greetings sentences were let out by the three's microphones, Y/N felt a wave of emotion course through her body. It was as if every cell within her was vibrating in tune with them, with the pulsing energy of everyone around her.

As the show progressed, Y/N couldn't take her eyes off Matt. Every laugh, every saying, seemed to hypnotize her even more. She wondered if he could feel her gaze on him or if that was just her desire playing with her mind.

When it was time for a break between games, Matt grabbed the microphone and began speaking to the audience. His voice was soft and engaging, making everyone around him feel like they were having an intimate conversation with him. Y/N held her breath, hanging on every word he said.

As Matt interacted with everyone, his eyes swept across the crowd and, for a brief moment, seemed to meet Y/N's. She felt her face blush intensely, and a shy smile formed on her lips before she looked away, embarrassed, holding back the immense urge to scream at having been seen by him.

As the show continued, Y/N found herself caught up in a rollercoaster of emotions. The pulsating energy of the music, the interactions, the magnetic presence of the triplets, and, most of all, Matt's closeness left her ecstatic. Every moment was like a dream come true, and she refused to blink for fear of missing even a second.

When the stage lights finally went out and the final words were given, Y/N felt a mixture of ecstasy and melancholy by the feeling of the long-awaited moment coming to an end, but little did she know that the night was just beginning.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N waited anxiously in line for the meet and greet. Her heart was beating so hard that it felt like it was about to jump out of her chest while her right leg bounced up and down in anxiety. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity, but at the same time, she wanted the moment to last forever.

As she watched the fans in front of her greet the triplets with beaming smiles, Y/N wondered what it would be like to be so close to them. She could barely contain her excitement as she approached the door that led to the meet and greet room where traps played loudly from the speakers, and colorful lights painted the walls.

Finally, her turn has come. Her stomach fluttered nervously as she entered the room, and her eyes instantly locked on Matt, who was there, so close and so real.

The three were side by side, Nick had a relaxed posture as he placed aside a teddy bear that he had probably received from the previous fan, while Chris glanced at Matt, seeming to watch him closely.

Matt was feeling fine until seconds before, but something inside him started to stir. His heart beating faster, his breathing became irregular, and a feeling of panic came over him.

So, when Y/N walked over to greet Matt with a hug, she noticed something was different, off. His arms were shaking, and his eyes looked a little lost, as if he were fighting some internal battle. Now up close, she could also notice how rigid his posture was and how his hands were clenched into a firm fist.

Y/N felt a wave of worry run through her own body, struggling internally over what to do, but ended up deciding not to expose Matt's situation in front of anyone, remaining silent. Instead, she smiled warmly and tried to keep the conversation light, hoping not to bother him with intrusive questions.

"Hi, Matt." The girl greeted softly, trying to ignore the nervousness that came over her body. "It's amazing to finally meet you in person. How are you?"

Matt lifted his head towards her for the first time, appearing to have only noticed her presence at that moment, trying to open a smile like hers, but his lips were trembling to the point where it came weaker than he wanted to.

Y/N could see the tension in his blue eyes as he tried to hide his discomfort, wondering what had happened to make him react in such a way so suddenly. Meanwhile, Matt tried to convince himself that it was nothing and that it would soon pass.

But it didn't pass. Instead, the feeling of panic grew, enveloping him like a dense fog. He felt like he was suffocating, like the world was crumbling around him, while his mind convinced him that he was alone.

As Y/N moved to greet Chris and Nick individually, keeping a brief and quick conversation - following the pattern imposed by the team that observed them -, she noticed how Matt seemed increasingly agitated, her own mind racing in an eagerness to help him, but the fear of reaction from the public, the team and even the triplets themselves held her back.

Until the picture moment. Y/N felt her heart sink as she felt Matt's breathing become more rapid and shallow as they prepared to take the group photo. She knew she couldn't just stand by and watch as he fought the monsters of his own mind.

With a lump in her throat and trembling hands, Y/N removed her left arm from around Chris, muttering a quick apology before turning to Matt, blocking the view of the line of people behind them, creating a small haven of privacy amidst the chaos of the room. The girl lifted her head slightly, searching his eyes with her own, desperately looking for any sign of life inside the blue orbs.

"Matt, hey." She began, her voice soft and comforting, acting as a balm to his troubled soul. "Are you okay?"

Matt's eyes widened in panic as he realized that the disturbances in his mind became visible enough to be seen by someone else. He swallowed hard, forcing himself not to look at his brothers or the fans behind the girl in front of him, the fear of receiving disappointed or judgmental looks growing in his chest.

He limited himself to just shaking his head, unable to utter a word. His eyes were unfocused and lost, and his nails pierced the palm of his hands - probably drawing blood - with the force he was squeezing the area, trying to maintain control of the uncontrollable emotions.

Y/N could see the terror on his face, and her heart ached for him.

She turned her head slightly and passed her eyes briefly over Nick and Chris, noticing how the two now had a rigid posture, ready to make a move as soon as necessary. Chris's eyes carried great uncertainty, as if he was afraid of leaving Matt in the care of a stranger, but Nick's hand, which held his biceps surreptitiously, prevented him from acting on impulse.

Y/N turned her attention back to Matt, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth in a thoughtful act before sighing softly.

"Can I hug you?" Her voice came out in a whisper as low as the music that surrounded them, but loud enough for him to hear it, and she was sure of it when she received a small nod in response.

Without hesitation, the girl enveloped him in a warm hug, holding him tightly against her chest as he trembled. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he struggled to control his breathing and calm his nerves. Y/N pressed her fingers into strategic points on his back, touching the hard knots with every inch of skin, lightly massaging the covered area.

"Everything is okay." Y/N whispered softly, snaking her right hand up his shoulder to the back of his head, interlacing her fingers in Matt's messy curls, stroking them carefully while guiding him to lay his head on her right shoulder. "You're safe here. No one is gonna hurt you. Just breathe with me, okay? Follow my breathing."

Y/N began to breathe slowly and deeply, the warm air hitting Matt's ear, helping him to follow her rhythm. A disguised smile grew on her face as she felt the boy's back rise and fall in an uneven rhythm below her left hand, knowing he was trying as hard as he could in that moment.

Little by little, she felt the tension in his body ease, his tremors becoming less intense as he finally reacted, clinging to her for comfort. His large but so fragile hands at that moment held her arm tightly, searching desperately for support and balance.

For a few precious moments, Y/N and Matt remained like that, joined in a comforting embrace, and lost in their own world of calm and safety. The sounds of Chris' agitated voice shouting for water to one part of the team and Nick's voice demanding the other part to remove the fans that were still there were all muffled against both of their ears, just the unison rhythm of their breathing and the beats of their connected hearts echoing around their bodies.

When Matt finally pulled away, his eyes quickly met Y/N's, overflowing with gratitude and fascination, feeling flattered to have had the opportunity to meet a girl so empathetic to the point of helping him without a second thought.

His mind searched for words to thank her, but to Y/N, he didn't need to say anything; his eyes said it all.

"How can I-" Matt began, clearing his throat briefly as he heard his own voice come out hoarse and worn out by the whirlwind of emotions that he went through in a short space of time. "How can I thank you? Repay you for what you did for me..."

Y/N shook her head, interrupting his sentence, her own smile widening and brightening her features as her eyes remained fixed on the blue ones, who now seemed to be taking their own time to carefully analyze her expressions, seeming mesmerized.

Matt's warm hands suddenly felt heavier against the exposed skin of her arm, a shiver running down her spine as she noticed how close they were physically, the boy's scent filling her nostrils with an inescapable force, leaving her dizzy and lost.

"I think you owe me a picture."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[sttoru]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER II: you smuggle the wounded man into your dorm room and nurse him back to health in secret. a fragile bond forms between you and the stranger - whose name you learn is toji - as you spend your first night together.

word count. 6.6k-ish

tags. assassin!toji fushiguro x college student!female reader. sfw. bits of angst. mentions of blood, knives, murder. reader gets called 'woman'. general warnings: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's). chapter one here

Three. Two. One.

You accept your miserable fate with a gulp. You prepare yourself for the unbearable pain that awaits your body until the last breath leaves your lungs. You hope the anguish lasts for a second or two before your vision turns pitch black. Before your soul meets its maker. Or before it gets lost somewhere more peaceful than this life you've led.

Closing your eyes, waiting for the impact, and uttering your final words in your head felt like eternity. Maybe the man is playing with your emotions before he decides to make an end to your life. Perhaps he is such a nasty psycho. And you can’t believe that out of all people who could’ve met him tonight on the street, you did.

You sniff. Life is unfair. Even at your final moments, you couldn’t help but feel you got the short end of the stick. You wait and wait, but your death doesn’t arrive. You sigh and ask whoever can hear your thoughts to make it quick.

“Shit,” Your ‘murderer’ coughs. It sounds like a painful cough, one that came out the back of his throat. You hear metal clattering on wet concrete not a second later. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise, your vision instantly filling with a frightening sight. You watch as the injured man starts to cough up blood. He’s unable to lift a finger in that state of his.

This is your chance to make a run for it. The voice in your head is screaming at you to move and get yourself to safety. It’s a perfect opportunity to get help. But something inside of you is urging you to stay.

Any normal person would have escaped by now.

‘I must be out of my mind,’ you silently think. You don’t loosen the grip you have on your scarf, the one pressed against the man’s open wound. Your body is yelling at you—begging you to move away—yet your heart is pleading to stay put. There is no way your body wins over the strong will of your heart. Your soul, that’s strangely connected to his, a man that threatened to kill you without hesitation.

You surely have lost your mind.

“Sir, oh my god,” you panic. You chose to stay, however have no clue what to do. You’re trying your best to think of a solution to all of this. Your eyes catch a glimpse of your now wet phone laying in a puddle of rain. You hope it still works. Well, even if it does, you surely can’t call an ambulance for the man. He had stated that he didn’t want any help.

If you consider the possibility of him being a murderer, you’d understand that he wouldn’t want an ambulance to be involved. You shake your head as your body desperately tries to continue fighting against your heart’s desires. ‘Sympathizing with a possible murderer. God I really must have gone insane,’ you curse yourself out in your head.

The sound of heavy breathing brings you back into the current moment. You catch the way the bloodied man is trying to regain his strength. You try to coax him into staying still, “sir, please don’t move. It could worsen your injury.”

You voicing your worries only causes the man to try and push you away. Despite his weakened state, the little push he gives you is enough to make you lose the grip on your crimson stained scarf. You watch in pure horror as more blood pours down his black shirt, onto his white pants.

“No, please. Please listen to me,” you don’t know why you’re begging a grown man, a killer, to listen to you for his own sake. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in your dorm room, in your cozy bed, watching a series while it pours outside. You shouldn’t be playing the hero to a stranger.

You think quickly. The only option you have aside from an ambulance, is to try and help him out to your best ability. You don’t have anything with you that could help, but you do have some rubbing alcohol in your dorm. That could work as a disinfectant. Stitching his wound up is the real challenge.

“Okay, uhm,” you try to think of a way to do this as smoothly as possible. You quickly grab the knife from the ground and shiver at the sight of the blood on the handle. Time is ticking and it won’t be long until the man in front of you loses his consciousness and possibly… dies.

You take off your coat, making haste to do so. Your hands are trembling, and your heart is stammering. You hiss as you tear apart the material of your coat using the sharp knife. The leather should help slow down the bleeding. Even if it’s only for a little bit. That’s all you really need.

“Here,” you quickly replace the scarf with the cut piece of your coat. You wrap it around his waist and fasten it, making sure it doesn’t slip off. The man does not say a word nor does he fight you off. All the resistance is gone from his weary body. That should tell you enough; he’s barely holding on. His heavy yet faint breathing is the only sign that reassures you that he’s not fallen unconscious.

You collect your bag and all the other things scattered on the dirty ground of the alleyway. You don’t want to leave any evidence of you being here, helping an alleged killer with getting away. Your heart tells you it’s fine, but your body is telling you that you’ll regret all of it. Time will tell which is the truth.

You stand up. Barely. Your knees are nearly giving out on you because of the stress and anxiety, though the adrenaline pumping through your blood is helping you stay composed. Your eyes follow the flow of the man’s blood as it mixes with the rainwater on the concrete. You can’t clean that up. The only thing you can do about it is pray—pray that the rain will wash all of it away. Down the drains.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, checking in on the stranger. He doesn’t answer. You crouch down in front of him, a worried expression on your face as you carefully move the hair from his eyes. They’re closed. You freak out and your initial reaction is to gently tap his cheek for any sign of life, “sir? Sir? Don’t tell me he’s—"

“Shut up,” his gruff voice echoes in your ears. It seems like he still wants you gone, though is not trying to actively shoo you away anymore. Not like he can in the awful state he is in.

The stranger coughs again, his eyelids opening just halfway before closing again. You sigh in relief and move next to him. You lift his arm so that it loosely sits on your shoulders. You grunt softly—the muscles in them makes it a tough job. You try asking him for his compliance, “I’ll help you stand up, okay?”

As expected, you’re met with silence. You take it as an agreement and use all the strength left in your limbs to get up on your feet. It’s a struggle, with you nearly toppling over thrice, but you eventually get the co-operation you’re looking for. The bloodied stranger slowly but surely manages to stand up straight with your aid.

You’re shocked by his large stature. He was intimidating enough when seated, but now that he’s towering over you, his aura is reaching high levels of unsettling. You hope he’s got enough drive left to move his feet. You can’t expect your frail arms to half carry a six-foot-something man.

“Hang in there,” you mutter, trying to cover the anxiety you’re internally facing. You look ahead and move forward in small strides, the steps you’re making are wobbly, as are his. You look up and try to gauge the man’s reactions, though his eyes are once again covered by his wet bangs. All you can make out is the slight twitch of his scarred lips. He’s in pain.

You manage to escape that damned back alley. Your bag is soaked, as are your clothes. You take one quick glance back before you turn the corner and once again pray that the rain washes the blood away. You take the quietest and fastest route back to your dorm.

A couple people pass you by. They don’t look at you funny nor do they bat an eye to the man you’re helping keep balance. They have their own lives that they need to take care of first. The pouring rain makes it harder for them to concentrate on anything else as well. Besides, the material of your coat wrapped around the man’s waist covers up most of the blood. It’s not visible to others.

If someone were to describe the image of the stranger and you from an outsider’s perspective, they’d think you’re just helping your drunk partner back home. It’s not an uncommon sight in the busy streets of Tokyo, especially in the evening.

“Where...” The stranger speaks up, his deep voice hoarser than before. He unexpectedly grips your shoulder. His meaty fingers digging into your flesh makes you wince. He’s only using a small bit of his actual strength and you’re already in pain. You push through and continue helping him forward. “Fuck,” He cusses. He’s starting to become deluded due to the blood loss and pain, “where ‘re—”

The tall man coughs, interrupting himself. You cringe at the sound of that excruciating sound. You could see the lights in the distance. The ones you’re used to seeing when coming back to campus after a night out with your friend. Now, you’re coming back with an unknown man. An alleged killer that you’re bringing into the building. You don’t even want to think about all the lives you could potentially put in danger.

You try to avert your attention. Now is not the time for that. Your gut feeling says so. You need to figure out a way to sneak this man inside your room without anyone finding out. Not the security guards, hall monitors or students: No one can know. You answer his question with clear doubt in your voice, not knowing if you’ll both even make it, “safety. To safety.”

All the thoughts about your poor life decisions get pushed to the side. You grunt and try to increase your speed, having difficulty dragging the man with you. You’re sweating. The amount of strength you need to put in to take only one step is severely draining. You remember that there is one path that doesn’t have much surveillance cameras hanging around. It’s the one you and a couple others use to sneak back into your dorms very late at night.

“Almost,” you try to encourage the stranger, who’s silent is quite eerie. You hope he’s holding on. The way he’s dragging his feet over the bricks tells you that he’s trying to keep conscious. You hurry up and get to the hidden exit at the back.

It’s locked on some days, so you let out a breath of relief when you manage to push it open. That spares you the trouble of having to go through the main entrance and risk getting caught. Plus, you don’t have to use and show your student card now that you’ve infiltrated the building. You hope that there aren’t many people around this side, praying that they’re all eating dinner somewhere.

The creaking of the door is ten times louder than it is usually. Or it could be the fear in your body restructuring your thoughts. Luckily, your dorm room is only one flight of stairs up. You can’t take the elevator because of the cameras in it. You look over at the man leaning against your shoulder, his head tilting to the side in exhaustion.

“Christ,” The stranger grunts. His head sways a little closer to yours unintentionally and your breath hitches. For a split second, he rests the side of his head against yours, too tired to move away. It makes your heart stammer for a moment. To have this coldhearted man lean on you, depend on you, and lay his life in your hands.

You’re filled with another rush of adrenaline. “Are you still holding up okay?” your quiet voice snaps the man out of his disoriented state. He only then realizes that he’s leaning his heavy weight on your small stature. He grumbles and tilts his head the other way again, away from yours. He clearly hates to be vulnerable. Especially around a random girl he does not have any business with.

Without getting an answer back, you carefully make haste to your dorm room. Your room is the first one in the entire row, located the surveillance camera's dead zone, which works out in your favor again.

You hold in your breath and try to fish the keys out of your pocket. Your fingers move the old and now wet receipts and garbage to the sides, pulling the desired object out from between them. You fumble with the keys, your fingers trembling as you try to grab the right one.

The intimidating stranger looks down at your hand through a blurry vision. You’re in a hurry to open the door and avoid being caught. Someone could turn the corner right now and you’d be busted. He huffs in annoyance, though voices no audible complaints. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows you’re helping him and that you have zero ill intent.

“Sorry,” you whimper before finally unlocking your door. You hurriedly get in an shut it behind you. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Figuratively in this case, since you still have a whole man leaning on you. You help him over to your bed and carefully assist him down.

You’re ignoring your own boundaries for the nth time. The ones you are so adamant to follow in any other situation. You would never let someone sit on your bed with their outside clothes still on, especially not if they’re dirtied and wet. You’re tolerating it for now. All for this man that you have a sudden, unfathomable attraction to.

You don’t have time to think. You rush to your wardrobe and pull the drawer open. You search for a first aid kit. You had it laying somewhere—though never used. Your parents had given you it in case of an emergency. Which is right now.

You find a whole bunch of gauze rolls and a bottle of antiseptic liquid along with bandages, scissors, and pain killers. You have zero clue on how to treat a wound. You only saw such stuff in action movies and cartoons. You grab a needle and thread that you had laying around. A towel and a tissue box as well. Just anything that’s redeemed relevant for the situation.

You drop everything on your bed and fiddle around on what to use first. You’re tempted to grab your phone and look up some instructions on the internet, but you quickly get interrupted by a bloody hand reaching out for the disinfectant. You watch with worry as the man gets to work—not expecting any help from an oblivious girl like you. He’s gone through this before.

“Get some water.” The man huffs, undoing the coat around his waist slowly. You only have a few seconds to act. You look around frantically and find an old water bottle on your nightstand. You hand it to him, and he nearly yanks it from your hand, still showing that stubborn reluctance around you. There’s not a thank you in sight as he gets to work.

You can tell that the stranger has stitched up his own wounds many times before. It makes you think back to your initial thoughts. The thoughts about his occupation. His skills would be self-explanatory if he were to be an actual murderer. Having to deal with these types of wounds would be an everyday experience.

Yet, instead of being alarmed at the possibility, you manage to feel bad for his situation. You helplessly watch as he pours nearly the entire bottle on his wound, getting rid of any debris that’s got on it. He clearly does not care about the wet stains it’s created on your sheets. They’re messy anyway. “Give me that,” the injured man comments and nods at the needle and thread with his head.

You do as told, staying silent as you let the professional do what he knows is best. He cleans the needle with the antiseptic fluid and prepares the wound some more. You want to advise him to at least use some pain killers before he goes to work on it, however they’d take too long to take effect. There is no time to do all of that.

“Ah,” you hiss, like you’re the one experiencing the pain, as you notice how he’s starting the suture near the edge of his wound. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, not wanting to witness the gruesome scene. A few occasional grunts and groans sounding from the man leave you nauseous. You can’t imagine what he’s going through at the moment, cleaning and stitching up his own injury. He seemed to know what he was doing, so you don’t comment on it any further.

After a couple seconds pass, you hear another pained hiss. You can’t stand it. You’re just sitting at the edge of your bed, hoping for the best. Hoping that he could make use of all that you provided him with. “Can I help somehow?” You breathlessly ask, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Yeah, by shutting up,” The older man answers bluntly. He’s fixated on healing his wound the best he could, and your voice is disrupting that focus. He’s made some progress with the suture. It isn’t done under perfect circumstances, but he’s used to it. His body has been through enough since childhood to have built up a resilience to most things. The pain and discomfort are nothing he isn’t familiar with.

You bite your lip and apologize for asking him something, “sorry.” His deep voice makes you shiver. It only reminds you of the fact that you have a grown man in your room. A possible killer on the loose. You don’t push your luck and just remain silent. You don’t want to end up as another victim.

Though you have a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you. Where that feeling came from, you have no idea. It could be your delusions, however you’re sure he wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. Maybe it’s due to that little moment of vulnerability he showed in the halls moments ago. Your body warms up at the memory of how his head laid against yours for a split second.

The man finishes off the suture with a firm surgeon knot. He cleans the remaining blood with the tissues he’s drowned in disinfectant. You look his way again when you hear him shifting in his place. Your baffled as you notice how he’s trying to stand up. You don’t know much about wounds, but you know for certain that someone cannot stand up after getting an injury stitched. It could reopen the wound.

Your hand moves on its own. You firmly grab the man’s wrist and tug him back down on your bed. The stranger lets out a surprised grunt and instinctively slaps your hand away. He wants to leave.

To him, it’s nothing serious. This is just another day in his life. He’s used to ignoring his body’s pleas for rest. Vulnerability does not look good on him. He hates it.

The older man parts his lips to defend himself, yet quickly decides on the opposite. He shuts his mouth once his eyes met your pretty ones. They’re glimmering with tears. He does not realize why you’re suddenly so upset. Nor does he actually care... He thinks.

He just wants to leave before you ask too many questions. It’s best to act like you two have never met. For his sake and yours.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. The silence creates an undeniable tension between you both. You don’t exchange words, though you think he knows what you mean with that look you’re giving him. You’re indirectly begging him to stay still and rest. You know he needs it. He secretly knows he needs it as well, though does not want to acknowledge that weakness.

The stranger sighs in frustration. He looks down at the wound he’s worked hard to patch up. His head hurts. His eyelids are heavy. His limbs are unresponsive. He has no other choice but to lay back. He promises himself that he’d leave after an hour or two. He wants to have nothing to do with you.

A college girl helping him. Who would’ve thought that day would come. Did he become that weak? He has always refused the help of others, so what would make this any different? He can leave and deal with the consequences of that poor decision on his own. However, his body doesn’t move an inch.

The man frowns as he realizes that his cold and distant attitude would get him nowhere this time. His body is actively resisting the urges to leave.

You cautiously ascertain his reactions. You notice the way he slumps back against your pillows with a curse word leaving his lips. You can’t help but feel relieved. You don’t know why, but you’re happy that he’s staying with you. Even if it’s just for a little longer. You want to make sure he’s going to be fine.

You nod silently and don’t say a word for a good while. You don’t want to annoy the man more than you already have. You get up, knees buckling as the adrenaline wears you down. You’re glad you haven’t been caught and that the man you saved didn’t die. You’re tired from everything that went down in the last hour or so.

Though, you cannot rest.

You clean up the mess around your bed. The used, bloody tissues. The rain that’s dripped down your clothes and onto the floor, making small puddles on the surface. The piece of leather you had used as a temporary solution for the stranger’s bleeding. After you’ve gotten rid of all that, you finally take off your coat and shoes. You want to take a bath as soon as possible. And dry your hair.

You don’t take your eyes off the man on your bed. He’s starting to stir again, which could mean one of two things. He’s either trying to escape or trying to change his position. To your surprise, you catch him pull his shirt over his head. The older man’s ripped physique comes into view. Faint veins run down his beefy arms, his abs are perfectly defined, and his waist compliments his bulky stature.

You’re staring. You only realize it when your eyes catch the way he’s attempting to wrap some gauze around his lower abdomen. You can tell that he’s struggling, but he does not ask for help. Nor does he even look your way—acting like it’s just him in the room. It’s easy to conclude that he’s never depended on anyone in his life. It saddens you.

You walk over to your bed and sit down at the edge. You wordlessly reach out to grab the roll of gauze from his hand. Your fingers brush against his palm while you do so, and you can feel the rough calluses on his skin. You don’t comment on it but make a mental note of your discovery.

You carefully wrap the gauze around his waist once. You’re as cautious as you could be, not wanting to inflict any more discomfort on the stranger. He doesn’t resist. He’s too tired to do so. Alhough, that doesn’t stop him from showing his complaints about the situation through his distant body language. His eyes are staring at the nearby wall, his expression as stoic as ever.

You go around with the roll of gauze once more. You lean a bit closer to his torso to properly do your job. You can’t help but feel a tiny bit embarrassed by your proximity. Neither of you says anything about it. He doesn’t move away, and you take that as a sign to continue tending to him.

The older man can’t help but feel that urging desire to push you away and leave. He doesn’t want to be involved in any of this. You weren’t supposed to find him. You weren’t supposed to help him. You weren’t supposed to bring him back here. He hates the idea of letting someone – you - get close to him. He hates letting others in his personal space.

 “What’s your name, sir?” Your soothing voice breaks the silence. You’re still visibly nervous, but also a lot less panicky. He finally looks down at you, seeing you put the gauze in place before grabbing a roll of bandages. He hates your touch.

The stranger clenches his jaw. He had to have scared you away in that back alley. He couldn’t and that’s what got him in such a predicament. One that triggers his many internal issues and struggles. He hates having to talk about himself to others. That’s how most bonds form.

“None of your damn business, girl,” The older man growls. His tone is harsh and cold, but you don’t back away nor even flinch. That only serves to irk him more. You’re meant to cower in fear, leave him alone and never turn back, but you do the complete opposite. You don’t know him and yet still choose to take care of him.

You nod, not pushing the matter any further. The injured stranger narrows his eyes for a second. Nothing seems to work on you. His intention is to scare you off, though the more he tries, the more you seem to get closer. It’s got the total opposite effect and he despises it.

He hates it all. Your closeness, your need to help him, your eyes that stare up at him with such worry, your hands bandaging him up. He promised himself, the day his wife died a couple years ago, that he’ll never involve himself with people if it isn’t for business related matters.

He’s managed to live all by himself for all those years and reached a level of independence that others could only dream of. Now it’s shattered. It feels like he’s back to square one because of your choice today. The choice to help a total random stranger.

The older man closes his eyes for a second and sighs deeply. It’s foolish of him to think of such unimportant matters. He’ll just use this to his advantage. He’ll use you, your kindness and everything you have to offer for his own sake. He’ll exploit you like he’s done to many other women before. That’s the way he’s used to treating others.

He’ll indulge your need to help him and try to act nice to satisfy those innocent wishes of yours. Just for his sake and his sake only, he promises himself.

The older man eventually speaks up again after you managed to bandage him up properly, “…Toji.”

You raise your eyebrows. You guess that that’s his name. Your lips curl up into a faint smile, feeling thankful that Toji decided to reveal that little detail about him. You grab his bloodied shirt and put it with the rest of your clothes that you need to wash. Your eyes wander over his exposed upper body for a split second, looking for any other possible injuries, only to find none. You nod in satisfaction as you grab a washcloth and wet it with some water, “that’s a nice name.”

That’s a first. Toji didn’t see the significance of complimenting someone’s name. Everyone has one, it’s not special, so why would you tell him it’s nice? Maybe he just doesn’t understand sentimental stuff like that. He’s not made out for such things. “Hm,” he lets out a small hum in acknowledgement and that’s all you get.

You walk towards him again and brush his bangs to the side. Toji holds himself back from moving away from your touch, but then remembers the decision he made mentally just moments ago. He’ll use that kindness of yours to his advantage until he’s all healed up. Then he’ll leave for good.

You place the cold cloth on his forehead. You know he’ll have a fever throughout the night because of the wound he’s suffered. You’re simply preparing him for that. You grab the painkillers that are scattered around the bed and place them on your nightstand, along with the water bottle. If he needs it, he’ll grab it, you think.

“Ah, sorry,” You snap out of it and realise that you haven’t introduced yourself properly. You might as well, considering you’ll be having Toji as your roommate for a couple days. Or at least you hope he stays that long until he’s all healed up. You continue, “my name is..”

“I already know.” Toji cuts you off before you’re able to reveal your name. You’re dumbfounded for a second. What does he mean by ‘he knows’? You tilt your head in confusion. You try to figure out how he could’ve possibly learnt your name but are unable to make any assumptions.

Toji easily notices your bewilderment. He admits that that could’ve come over as extremely creepy. He looks at the nearby wall and points at the decorations with his chin. You follow his gaze and instantly recognize what he’s staring at. It’s a picture with your friends that you have framed. They gifted it to you some time back and had engraved your name in the frame.

Toji must have cautiously examined his new surroundings whilst you were busy finalizing the treatment for his injury. You understand the need for that. Anyone would be wary in a new environment. “Hehe. Right,” he’s quite observant, you think to yourself.

You look outside of your window and close the tiny gap between your curtains. Even if you’re on the second floor, you don’t want to risk anyone finding out about what you did tonight. It still hasn’t properly processed in your brain; the fact that you have smuggled an alleged killer into your dorm. Maybe it will hit once you sleep and wake up tomorrow.

You look down at Toji with great concern. Even if the wound has been taken care of, you’re unsure if it’s even enough. A doctor would’ve been the safest option. But seeing how great Toji is handling the pain, you guess that it’ll be just fine. You glance at your hands. They have some dried blood on them. You also reek of the rain since you’re still uncomfortably soaked from before.

You decide to go take a shower. Before that, you make sure Toji has everything he needs. You give him a towel to dry himself off and make sure he can reach the first aid kit if needed. You stare at the pile of bloodied and wet clothes in the corner of your room. Both his and yours. You’ll take them to the laundry mat tomorrow.

You avert your attention back to Toji. He’s lying on his back, head turned away to the wall so he wouldn’t have to see you or look you in the eyes. It’s like he’s in his own world. You speak up again, this time a little louder, “are you gonna be alright now?”

Silence again. Toji doesn’t face you and keeps his eyes closed for some peace of mind. He sounds indifferent and distant as he answers you, “who knows.”

The ambiguous answer certainly doesn’t help ease your anxiety. You don’t want the older man to regress back to a state of near unconsciousness again. Despite your wishes, you can’t do much about it. Calling an ambulance or asking for help from others is a big no-no. For you as well, since you’ll be dragged into a big mess if anyone were to find out you gave shelter to a murderer.

“Uhm, all right. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You announce quietly, not expecting a response. You would’ve preferred it if Toji did respond so you could leave your room for a couple minutes in peace. Without worrying about his condition. You know that you’re annoying him with the constant questions and comments, but you can’t help it. You’re worried. Even if he hates the attention and would love to have as less interaction with you as possible.

“D-Don’t move, ‘kay? I’ll be back.” You add quickly. You take a few steps towards the exit and place your hand on the door handle. Your limbs won’t take another step forward. You’re worried sick that Toji’s going to grab his chance and leave the moment you’re gone. You don’t want him to go. On one hand, it’s selfish of you, but on the other hand, it’s out of consideration for his situation.

You turn your head and glance at his still figure on your bed. His bulky stature nearly took up the entirety of it. You can’t help but ramble about your worries to him, hoping it’d convince him to stay, “If they find you, I’ll get in trouble and god knows what will happen to yo—”

“Just go, woman.” Toji’s deep voice rings through your ears. It’s the second time he’s cut you off. You’re pissing him off, clearly. You immediately zip it and do as told. You decide to put your trust in him and believe that he won’t take the opportunity to leave behind your back.

Without another word, you sneak out of your dorm room, making sure to close your door behind you. You act normal in case anyone walks by and finds your behaviour suspicious. You make a beeline towards the communal showers with your toiletry bag and pyjamas in hand.

Meanwhile, Toji is finally experiencing some real peace. He empties his mind, though cannot seem to get rid of your voice. He still can’t comprehend why somebody would be this worried for him. A college student who’d be at risk of being expelled if found out. You’re taking such great risks for a man like him? He doesn’t understand.

Toji rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands and groans in aggravation, “unbelievable.” Why he’s thinking it through is also something he cannot grasp. The man decides to enjoy the quiet atmosphere for now. He’s still somewhat disheveled from the entire ordeal and if he were to keep his brain running, he’d lose his mind completely. He drapes an arm over his eyes and lies there silently on the soft mattress.

A couple minutes pass. You feel like you’ve taken the quickest shower ever. You avoid as many students as possible while you make your way back to your dorm. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. You open the door and peek through the crack. It’s pitch dark in the room. The sun had fully set a while back and your curtains cover any light from outside.

You lock your door and step forward carefully. You squint and wait for your vision to accommodate to the darkness. You approach your bed and finally let out that breath you’ve been holding in. He’s still there. Toji’s still where you left him. His chest is slowly moving up and down, his breathing steady as he rests.

You quietly turn on the nightlamp in your room. It casts a faint shadow over Toji’s face. He seems to be asleep. You can’t quite tell for sure since his bicep is nearly covering the entirety of his face, but you judge based on his breathing patterns. You sit on the edge of your bed and feel tired yourself after that eventful evening. You’re sleepy. The adrenaline has worn off and exhausted you to no end.

You glance down at the bandage around his torso. You’d have to change that for him tomorrow. For now, you’re content with the outcome of it all. You shift in your seat, which causes your hand to brush against Toji’s on the bed. You feel the warmth creep up to your head. His veiny hands still had stains of blood on the skin.

Now that Toji’s asleep, he won’t refuse your help. You grab a spare washcloth from your wardrobe and wet it with some water. You carefully lift Toji’s left hand. His palm touches yours and you find yourself enjoying the physical contact. His hand is heavy—bigger and rougher than yours. There are faint scars on his fingers which reminds you of his unknown identity.

All you’ve discovered until now is his name. His background is a mystery, and you have the feeling that it’s going to stay a mystery. You’ve realized by now that Toji does not open up to just anyone. You diligently clean the crimson stains from his left hand and move to do the same for the right one. You’re as careful as you can be, not wanting to wake the injured man from his well-deserved rest.

Once done, you put the washcloth away. You yawn and look at the clock. It’s nearly midnight already. You can’t sleep on your bed since it’s occupied, and it doesn’t fit two people. You look down at the soft carpet below your feet. That’ll have to do.

You grab an available pillow and a spare blanket, setting up your own little sleeping bag on the carpet right next to the bed. You lay down and stare at the ceiling. The ticking of your clock and the occasional sound of traffic outside of the building are the only loud sounds that distract your mind from any turbulent thoughts.

All you want is to sleep. What’ll happen tomorrow or the day after that is a problem for later. You’re safe for now. For today, you can relax. Your door is locked and the man you saved hadn’t left just yet. You feel a strange form of comfort having him with you. Even if he may be a bad person, his presence somehow soothes your tired body and mind. You feel like you’re safe with him. No harm shall come your way tonight.

And with that decisive thought, you close your eyes and give in to the slumber. You turn to lay on your side, facing the frame of your bed. Facing Toji.

You smile and utter your final words for the day, “good night, Toji. Sleep well.”

You drift into the land of dreams and discard your eventful reality. Little did you know that the man on your bed had been wide awake the entire time and is now left unable to sleep. . .

to be continued !

[motherofdogs1010]

Solar Flare (Feyd-Rautha x Reader)

Summary: Chosen as the bride of na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, Y/N finds herself at the hands of the sadistic na-Baron who seems keen on having his bride on their wedding night...

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, arranged marriage, DUBCON/ pinv sex, fingering, loss of virginity, brief knife kink, small breeding kink, crude language, forced arranged marriage

A/N: I took inspiration from S1 GoT with Khal Drogo and Daenarys' relationship lol, can you tell I love that show?

Open to further parts in the future

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Geidi Prime was so different from her own world, one that was known for its windy, sunny atmosphere where nearly anything thrived in the fertile soil; she looked out the window of the bedroom she was in, seeing how the black sun of the planet truly blotted out any color. She could hear the hum of life within the ship as she awaited for her brother to summon her, to see if her fate would be sealed or not.

She wore a simple satin dress of a lavender shade, her hair loose and held back by two simple braids with some bells that hung from it as it was a fashion trend in her planet. Y/N sucked in a breath as she recalled her reason for being on Geidi Prime, that reason being that her brother was selling her off like a broodmare to the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

She had heard the rumors of Feyd-Rautha, the sadistic nature of the man and it made her tremble in fear as she thought about it.

Knock. Knock.

Turning her head, Y/N looked at the bedroom door, watching it slid open to reveal her handmaid, Illaria.

"Your brother is calling for you", she said, Y/N felt her hands go sweaty as she knew why he was calling her.

🌑

"Where is he?" her brother asked, inpatient.

They were outside their ship on the landing pad where Houses meet, the bright light from their ship fought back the black-white filter that the black sun gave. She stood slightly behind her brother as he grumbled, she knew he was doing this to gain more Spice, the man was addicted to it.

"The Harkonnens are not known for their puncuality", her brother's advisor, Minos replied.

Minos was an overweight man with a long beard that nearly went past his heavy stomach.

Y/N looked between the two men chatting before seeing the Harkonnens, her heart skipped a beat as Minos joyfully went to greet them; she saw the large, menacing figure of the Baron, how slumped in his floating seat he was. She saw all of their ghastly pale skin and hairless appearance that differed from the beauty standard of long, thick hair on her planet.

And it was then she saw him: Feyd-Rautha, he was similar to his kin with the white skin and bald head, dark eyes that were sinister and she swore she saw black teeth.

"Do you see him?" her brother whispered, gripping her arm. "Feyd-Rautha is the fiercest warrior in the universe, they say he's never been defeated in battle. Of course, he's a Harkonnen and a savage... but you're going to be his na-Baroness."

He chuckled just as Minos called out to her to join him where the House stood.

Slowly, she made her way to where Minos was and she saw Feyd locking eyes with her. When she got to where Minos was, he moved her a little in front of her just as Feyd walked up to her, staring down at her.

He had a lean figure, she noted as he stared at her with his black eyes and she saw his tongue lick his bottom lip as he stared. His skin was practically white from the planet and she saw he had a slightly protruding eyebrow bone but he was a handsome man, a psychotic man but handsome.

She stared into his ink-black eyes, the smell of the polluted air of the planet going into her nose as he stared back into her own E/C eyes. His eyes trailed her full figure, taking in her hair and appearance as they stared at one another for what felt like an eternity before he turned to his uncle and walking away with the others following behind.

Y/N felt herself let out a breath as she lived, he hadn't killed her.

"Wait! Did he like her?" her brother cried out, rushing to where they were.

Y/N blinked at the interaction as Minos said, "he liked her."

"How could you tell?"

"Trust me, Feyd Rautha makes it known when he does not like a woman."

"Well then, when is the wedding?" her brother asked, Minos looked at her.

"Soon", Minos said, Y/N felt dread at his answer.

Soon enough, the wedding to her Harkonnen groom came and it was an event. Fireworks were booming as in one of the many Grand Halls, drums were beat up as the music was loud as she sat near her now husband, who was taking pleasure in watching a fight between two men over a woman commenced. Y/N held back a grimace as she looked around and saw the table where the food was, she prayed that the meats on that table weren't human.

Minos mumbled that if there were no fights during a Harkonnen wedding, then it was not a wedding. The ceremony had been a brief one with the Baron, himself, officiating the ceremony and dark, throaty singing in the background as he talked of how she was now Feyd-Rautha's in body and mind, that her will was now his and her duty to produce heirs.

Feyd, himself, had been dressed in a black leather ceremonial suit that was fitted to his body while Y/N had been forced in an tight, silk dress that had slits on either side of her body, a deep cleavage bearing neck line and the veil she had been given to wear trailed behind her in a long train.

The maids that had gotten her ready had told her that Feyd had found her fuller figure appealing hence the dress and her hair hung down as she was also told her enjoyed that as well.

Y/N saw one of the attendees grab a rather bloody piece of dark meat from the table and she recalled the cannibalistic nature of Geidi Prime; the festivities proceeded before suddenly, Feyd stood up and she swallowed her spit as her breath got caught.

She had hoped he would turn to his concubines for the wedding but it seemed he truly wanted to consummate their marriage and Y/N felt her heart beating faster as the music, as everything stopped.

Feyd was waiting for her down the steps as everyone stared at her, she slowly got up as she felt her eyes want to water. He held a hand out and Y/N slowly walked down the steps, feeling the stares of everyone as she grasped his hand before letting out a small squeal as the man threw her over his shoulder without effort.

The room erupted into laughter and clapping, music picking up as Feyd walked around, carrying her around like she was some prized animal he hunted. The attendees were enjoying the show as Y/N felt a sense of humiliation before it was finally over and he walked them out of the hall.

It was silent with the exception of the fireworks.

"Are you frightened?"

His voice was raspy and Y/N swallowed, "N-No husband."

His footsteps echoed in the hall as his voice teased, "You should be, I could easily feed you to my pets and be done with it, wife."

Y/N blinked rapidly as tears welled up in her eyes, "I believe that would not be in your best interest."

She hadn't even realized they made it inside his bedroom until he tossed her onto a bed, she was surprised by the softness of the bed and the coolness of the sheets.

Feyd smirked at her as he stared down at her before climbing over her, a cold knife slid up against her cheek as she stared into his eyes.

"And why is that, my na-Baroness?"

"Are your pets worthy enough of bearing you a strong heir?"

He slid the knife down until it nicked her skin, a hiss of pain escaped her lips as Feyd stared at her.

"What makes you believe that you can carry my heir, hm?"

His thumb pressed on the cut, making the blood from the cut come out more before he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it off.

"You'll have to find out", she responded back.

Feyd smirked before crashing his lips on her, her eyes closed as a heat came up on her face as the hunger his kiss conveyed consumed her and she fisted his clothes as he dominated the kiss. She tried her best to kiss back before Feyd pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their mouths as Y/N panted.

"Your brother was right in his bragging, you truly have never had a man."

Feyd seemed proud in his statement as he used the knife to rip the bodice of her dress, exposing her breasts to him and he seemed pleased at their appearance as he brought his mouth down one of her buds, sucking on it harshly and sliding the knife over the other. The coldness of the knife made her nipple harden and the sensation of Feyd's mouth of her breast made her cunt begin to throb in a painful way and she felt a wetness begin.

She watched him toss the knife away as the hand that held the knife dove under her skirts, the Harkonnen man ripping and tear at the skirt with his hand as he fisted her panties before tearing them down her plump thighs.

Her heart was beating in her chest, she was experiencing so many emotions: fear... confusion... lust.

She felt his cold fingers probe at her cunt, a smirk coming on his face as he pushed her legs open before his swiped a finger through her lips; she felt a odd sensation, a throb of electricity go through her as he pressed a calloused thumb to her swollen clit and pushed two fingers into her hot, slick walls.

Y/N couldn't help but arch her back and her eyes flutter at the sensation of Feyd beginning to literally fuck his fingers into her, rubbing harsh circles on her clit that seemed to light her body on fire.

She clutched his shoulders as she cried out as she felt him massage his fingers into her as he chuckled.

"Such a little whore you are, wife", he rasped, "I haven't even shoved my cock into you and you're already mewling like a whore."

It was true, her toes where curling as she moaned and gasped.

"Wonder how you'll be once you have a cock in you."

🌑

Feyd was determined, Y/N would later conclude towards having her carry his heir was her legs had been thrown over the lean man's shoulders. He was pressing down hard into her, his hips brutally slapping into her as he let out these animalistic growls and groans.

She clung to him, fingers digging into his flesh as the pleasure that rocked through her body overwhelmed her.

The intrusion of his cock when it first entered her in one rough thrust had stung, tears had pricked her eyes for those brief moments of pain, but now it was tears of tears that rang down her round cheeks.

She panted and moaned, back arching, "Feyd!"

"Let everyone hear you", he demanded, "I want them to hear who you belong to."

She squealed as she felt another orgasm come over her, having lost count of the many he had already forced out of her body.

"I want them to hear who's heir is being bred into you."