#Precious Stone Importers

[time-speculo]

His ass is NOT beating the son allegations!!!

[feisaru]

Who knew this was how Feida's emperor was going to wind up?

SARU himself didn't see that coming.

[kirbyddd]

i want to jump forward in time to when my fic is finished

it's so agonizing having to wait days at a time for an hour my brain actually functions coherently so i can continue

[truly-fantastic-me]

[ekbatdesebat]

@shireentheunburnt​ must find the fifth element

“Now tie it together,” Leeloo said smiling down at the little girl who she was showing how to make a knot doll like she had made back home on Lacta’liguna. “And she is done. What do you think?”

[honourablejester]

A lot of the time when I reblog jewellery on here, it’s art nouveau jewellery, because I really like art nouveau. In general, and in jewellery in particular. And most of that is the aesthetic. I like the natural forms, I like the twisty curly bits, I like the use of materials, I like how a lot of art nouveau jewellery is using metals and stones and other materials to create a specific form, an insect or a plant or a goddess or even sometimes nature scenes. I like …

I feel like a lot of the time with jewellery, it feels like ‘I’m going to use this object to show off the size and value of my pretty rock’. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Some of those rocks are indeed gorgeous. But art nouveau feels more ‘I’m going to use these pretty rocks, and several other things, to create the impact of this object’? I just love the use of materials, glass and enamel and colour, as well as precious stones and metals, to create a form or a scene.

Like, you get a diamond ring, it’s a diamond ring. But you get something like a dragonfly brooch (Louis Acoc):

Or a lilypad hair comb (Rene Lalique):

Or a wisteria branch (Georges Fouquet):

And it’s a whole creation. A little wearable piece of art.

And I don’t want to sound too dismissive. I know the craftmanship and skill and artistry that goes into any kind of jewellery making. That diamond ring took skill I will never have. I just.

I like the emphasis on form more than material that you get with art nouveau. Like normally you hear ‘glass jewellery’, ‘enamel jewellery’, and it’s cheap, it’s frowned upon, but in art nouveau it’s what that glass or enamel was used to make that’s the important part:

(Rene Lalique)

(Eugene Feuillatre)

Anyway. In summary, I really, really, really like art nouveau jewellery?

[importexportinfo]

The top exporters of semi precious stones were USA, Thailand, India, Switzerland and Hong Kong and the top importers of semi precious stones were Hong Kong, USA, France, Switzerland and Thailand. Download semi precious stones importers exporters details here.

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🛏️₊✧ 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼’𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ♡🌙₊˚₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 somnophilia (the characters have discussed the kink beforehand) 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with a bit of plot 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 gojo eats you out 𖥔 bj 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 heavy daddy kink 𖥔 lots of dirty talking

: ̗̀➛ words: 3.1k

: ̗̀➛ notes: initially this was a toji fic but satoru somehow decided to fit better (bad-dum tshh). ngl when i was writing this i got butterflies in my stomach. like i legit felt sumn throbbing lmaooo. tmi??? dont care. we're all horny here mamas. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Satoru wasn’t ashamed to fuck his step-daughter. 

He enjoyed it. 

You enjoyed it. 

A clandestine affair kept under the sheets from your mother and two older brothers.

Megumi and Yuji had their suspicions about how carefree their step-father was around you, constantly tickling your side, asking you to lay your head on his lap during movie nights, and buying you gifts on a whim. The boys would obviously complain about the special treatment, but Satoru would just watch with a smile as you stuck your little tongue out and called yourself Daddy’s girl. 

Because that's what you were. You were your daddy’s girl. And Satoru ensured that fact was deeply ingrained in your mind as he moved in and out of you, lifting your tender legs onto his shoulders, kissing your rosy lips, saturating your silk sheets with both his and your release.

It was difficult keeping the lewd side of your relationship a secret. Your mother was rarely at home from her corporate job, and you suspected she was having an affair with a salaryman named Satoru.

Meanwhile, your brothers were in their second and fourth year of college nearby and could come home whenever they pleased—particularly Megumi, who wasn't as much of a partygoer as Yuji being a senior. There were multiple times while Satoru was fucking you when Megumi returned home, but did that stop him from satisfying his girl? Fuck no. 

As for your stepfather, he was a remote investor in the booming hospitality industry, managing significant stakes in various companies. His encounter with your mother at an industry event last year was strategic; she became a means to an end, a stepping stone toward fulfilling his desires. A few months down the line, she introduced him to her family, to you—the most precious thing Satoru laid his eyes on. You were the real prize in his eyes, something he had to figure out how to get his hands on, despite always getting what he wanted.

So, he married your mother, moved into your house, and deployed every weapon in his arsenal, including his lethal charms, to claim you as his own.

But did Satoru cherish you in the way a man should cherish a woman? No. He didn't cherish you. His love didn’t check off the conventional boxes. He was consumed, fixated, captivated by your existence, by your body, the adorable noises you made when you climaxed. But not enough to make you his girlfriend, or someday his wife. 

He just wanted you as his step-daughter. He was a selfish, depraved bastard who got off on that fantasy, and you, God you loved nothing more. You wanted nothing more from him than to be exactly who he was in his spot—your step-father.

As long as you both kept fucking each other for however long, you were satisfied. 

“Quiet, baby,” Satoru whispered as he clicked on a link for a video call with his team. His one hand rested over his mouse, the other over your crown as you lapped at the tip of his leaking cock. “This is an important call.” 

You’d returned from school after acing the test you’d been studying all week for and wanted to release that excitement onto your step-father. After all, he did massage your shoulders and brought you fruits when you were busting your ass memorizing the periodic table. 

Satoru plastered on a smile as the voices from his computer started speaking. He still kept petting your head, chuckling casually and speaking smoothly about numbers and profits like the capitalist he was. 

You opened your jaw wider and took his length into your mouth. Your gag reflex was non-existent after months and months of perfecting this skill. Your tongue supported the bottom of his shaft, while slowly bobbing your head up and down. Satoru’s grip tightened in your hair, but he remained all rainbow and sunshine in front of his workers. 

You gripped his thick cock, feeling the veins pulsing under your touch. Your tongue slid from the bottom to the top as you sucked on the pink head like a lollipop, glancing up at him through your lashes.

Satoru shot you a heated look and guided your head with his hand. He pushed his throbbing cock into your mouth, holding your face against his pelvis. You gagged a bit, needing air, and he eased off.

“It’s on mute,” he muttered. 

You broke out into coughs and smacked his leg. “What the fuck was that for?” 

“For giving me those eyes.” 

You scoffed. “Dickhead.” 

“It’s right in front of you, Princess. Put your pretty lips on it again.” 

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his cock extra tight making a muscle in his jaw twitch. You lapped at the pre-cum leaking down his length, then took him into the cave of your warm, small mouth. 

Satoru held your head in his hands, guiding the pace. He struggled to focus on the meeting, clearing his throat to shake off the intense feeling building up inside him. With fifteen minutes still to go, he was on the brink. 

Feeling your tap on his knee, he glanced down to see you motioning to your mouth.

Satoru lowered your head again, clenching his jaw as your tongue pushed him over the edge. He held his breath, releasing a wave of warmth as he emptied himself into your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair, while his other hand reached for his glass of water, desperately trying to steady himself with large gulps.

You pulled back, strings of your saliva and his come forming a bridge. He gave you the water and you drank the last bits of it. Satoru patted the top of your head and you stayed hidden underneath his table, admiring him as he finished his meeting. 

And before you knew it, he had you bouncing on his cock again. 

At dinner time, you helped set up the table with your brothers while your mother flipped the hamburger patties.

Satoru tossed the salad bowl, taking small glimpses at you and the pink set of tight shorts and tank you wore. He’s been noticing you rubbing your temples, swaying a little on the balls of your feet, blinking rapidly. You clearly weren’t feeling well from all that studying you’d been doing. 

Megumi abruptly pulled you aside by your elbow. “Is everything all right?” 

You blinked, fighting the sharp pain in your temple. “Yeah. Why?” 

“Satoru keeps glaring at you. Did you piss him off or something?” 

You cast a look at your step-father, who’s focused on pouring olive oil on the greens. “I haven’t talked to him since I came home from school.” 

Megumi nodded, rubbing your arm. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He scratches the back of his neck. “I just— This probably sounds stupid, but I don’t like knowing you’re both home alone in the afternoon.” 

“He lives here, silly. What do you expect?” 

“Yeah, I know. I know that—I’m just saying that he looks at you . . . like, weirdly. Not in a way someone would look at their family member. He acts weirdly, too. Always touching you and tickling you. I don’t know.” Megumi scrutinizes your outfit. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to wear that around the house when he’s here.” 

You frowned and crossed your arms. “I can’t deal with this again.” Putting on an act that Satoru was simply your step-father and nothing else was tiring, but you’d mastered it. “You’re being delusional as always, Megs. Satoru is just family to us and vice versa. I’m just special because I’m the youngest.” You patted his shoulder. “I can take care of myself. And if I ever need help, I’ve got you and Yuji to defend me.” 

Megumi smiled solemnly and shrugged off his hoodie, handing it to you. “Can you at least wear this?” 

Anything to ease his mind. 

You smiled and shouldered the large hoodie. 

Throughout dinner you kept losing focus of the conversation flowing between your brothers and mother. Your head was pounding from the stress of your upcoming final exams, your scalp ached a little from Satoru’s grip this afternoon, and you desperately needed sleep. 

“Y/N?” 

You lifted your head, blinking lethargically. “Yes, Mom?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I—” You rubbed your heated forehead and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I, uh—I think I’m just not feeling too good.” 

“Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to take it easy with school? You’re doing great—”

“Great’s not going to get me in my dream college, Mom.” You lost your appetite easily and excused yourself from the table, grabbing a bottle of NyQuil and a spoon. “Please don’t wake me up until tomorrow. Goodnight.” You ignored everyone’s stares and marched upstairs, taking a spoonful on the way. 

Dropping face-front on the bed, you melted in your sheets and forced yourself into a sleep. 

Satoru waited until every light in the house was off before visiting your bedroom.

Of course, he had to check that little shit Megumi’s room, and after hearing nothing but white noise, he checked up on Yuji and found him snoring his lungs out, then finally entered into your space.

He shut the door quietly and locked it. 

You laid fast asleep, hair dusted across your soft face, one hand on your stomach, the other next to your head.

Satoru smirked and sat at the edge of your bed, checking your temperature by pressing his hand against your forehead. You were burning up, and the little strangled breaths puffing from your parted lips proved you weren’t going to school tomorrow. 

Lying down next to you, Satoru brushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He glanced down the length of your body and back to your face. His fingers danced over your collarbone, the expanse of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse.

“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing below your earlobe. He watched you for a second, waiting for you to shift or wake up, but you were dead asleep. 

You talked about what turns you on the most last week, and somnophilia was right up there, leaving Satoru scratching his head in confusion. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could be into getting it on while asleep. But you were practically begging him to give it a try someday, and he couldn’t say no to you. 

Well, surprise, surprise, baby. 

Satoru slipped down the straps of your tank top, leaning over you. He bridged kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulders, softly, not his usual crass ones. His finger hooked your tank lower until it exposed your tits and your puckered nipples.

“You’re always sensitive here, aren’t you, Princess?” He cupped your left breast and lowered his head, kissing the nipple and sucking the bud. 

You took a deep breath and shifted your face to the right.

Satoru switched to your neglected breast, taking his sweet time nibbling your tender nipple, then bringing his lips to yours. He kissed the top one, the bottom one, pushed his tongue inside to feel your sleeping one. His kisses trailed lower and lower until he reached your shorts. He pulled them down to reveal white panties and a damp spot between your legs. 

“Even in your sleep, huh?” Satoru planted kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and licking. He nuzzled his nose against your clothed sex, inhaling deeply and breathing out slowly. His tongue traced over the area, wetting it more with each stroke. “Daddy’s gonna eat his pussy now, baby.” He pulled your panties to the side and dove into your slick, moist folds. “Mmm. You smell so sweet.” 

Satoru began to lap your juices like a starved dog, keeping your tender folds parted with his thumbs. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit, sending a little shiver down your body. He double-checked to see if you’re still asleep, then continued his job. He pushed two fingers in your walls and chuckled against your flesh as you clenched around him. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s taking good care of you.” 

Half an hour. He ate you out for half an hour until he could see the slight quiver in your swollen clit. His saliva and your fresh release covering your abused, delicate folds.

When he pulled away, his hard cock in hand, Satoru sat back, admiring you spread out like a feast before him. Leaning in, he teased your folds with his throbbing length, digging his tip over your clit in gentle circles.

“Can I put it in, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. You didn't answer, sweat trickling down your forehead with the fever. Satoru licked the droplets, then kissed down to your neck. His hands stayed by your head as he moved his hips, dragging himself over your puffy cunt. “Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your little pussy is so soft and wet.” He gripped his length and pressed just the tip into your entrance. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want. Just don't wake up, okay?”

Satoru slipped in smoothly and nuzzled into your neck. He eased into your tightness, going slow and steady, urging your gummy walls to adjust to his size. “My sweet baby. Look at you. Sleeping while your daddy fucks himself in you.” He pulled back and widened your legs, seeing his fat cock sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, yes. Gonna fuck this little cunt of yours for hours.” He started moving quickly. “I don’t care if you can’t walk tomorrow. You won’t be leaving this bed anyway with that fever of yours. Daddy’s gonna fuck it out of you however long it takes.” 

He put his hands on either side of your head and kissed you while moving his hips.

You moaned, feeling a shiver as cold touched your bare chest and legs. “Satoru,” you said softly. His eyes closed in pleasure as he increased his pace. 

Sensing you stirring, he wrapped his arm around your waist and turned you over so you were lying on his chest. He paused, running his hand down your arm. “It’s okay, Princess. Go to sleep. Daddy’s got you.” 

You exhaled heavily. 

Satoru licked his lips and grabbed your plump asscheeks in his palms, slowly moving himself up into you. His face squished up seeing how well you were handling him even though you were out cold. He kept going, sometimes easing up when you shifted on his chest, or speeding up when you stayed asleep. 

“I'm so close, baby. So close to finishing inside my little girl. Gonna fill you up. Flush those pills and make you a mom.” He envisioned you with a swollen belly, your breasts heavy with milk, your body glowing and all his. 

Fuck, you were his. 

You were only his. 

Satoru came harder than he ever had before. Hot spurts of his release filled your sweet hole to the brim, and yet he continued with pumping into you. “Hey, baby? Daddy doesn’t want to stop now, okay? He’s going to fuck you some more,” he said, realizing why this kink meant so much to you.

Pulling out slowly, he laid you down beside him, shedding his clothes. Pressing his chest against your back, he wrapped your leg around his and slid back inside you, burying his face in your neck. He wanted to be rough, to feel your nails on his skin, to bite you and hear you moan.

“I wanna kiss you, baby. I want your little tongue.” Satoru pulled out of you after finishing for the second time and laid you on your back. He adjusted your head so you were looking at him. His fingers went back to pleasuring you while his lips met yours. He slipped his thumb between your teeth, easing your bottom jaw down. Satoru slid his tongue in, playing with yours, moaning and breathing heavily.

“My baby has such soft lips,” he murmured over your wet, swollen mouth. Taking his finger soaked with your juices and his come, Satoru placed them between your lips and ran them over your tongue. He ravished your mouth again. 

Exhausted from holding back, Satoru pulled you close and slid back inside you, staying still, just feeling your warmth. He ran his hand over your back, kissed your head, and shut his eyes.

In the morning, you woke up feeling a bit weighed down below and something awkward stopping your movements. You lifted your head, rubbing your sleepy eyes, and saw Satoru asleep beneath you. A grin spread across your face as you remembered the steamy dream you had about him satisfying you. 

You planted a kiss on his cheek and tried to get up using your hands, but then you froze. 

You looked down and realized you were sitting right on top of Satoru’s cock.

Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream. 

Satoru fucked you while you were out cold. Just thinking about him taking advantage of your defenseless body to satisfy himself made you shiver.

“Dickhead,” you grumbled, then began to rock your hips. Time for payback. Yanking down your cami-top, you teased your nipples, riding his stiffening cock. You couldn't care less as you leaned in for a kiss. “Rise and shine, Handsome.” 

Satoru took a deep breath. His lips synced with yours effortlessly, and his hand found its way into your hair. He yanked your head back, his eyes widening as they trailed down to your swaying hips. A smirk played on his lips as he relaxed back, crossing his arms behind his head. “You feeling good now, Princess?”

“Much better, Daddy.” 

Satoru admired the playful bounce of your tits, the adorable mewls escaping your mouth, the flush of your smooth skin. Seeing his step-daughter fuck herself on his cock first thing in the morning had him on cloud nine. 

“I’m gonna come, Daddy,” you moaned, hands planted on his chest. 

“Come, then, baby. Come on your daddy’s cock.” He reached out and grabbed your throat. “Then lick it clean.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” You came with a muted cry, milking every last drop of him. “Your cock is so full inside of me.” Satoru smirked at your dirty little words and gave your left tit a little slap. 

You picked yourself up from his cock and knelt between his legs. Satoru watched as your little hand barely wrapped around his girth, lapping at his come like his pretty, little kitten. “Feels good, Daddy?” 

“Yeah, baby. You always feel good to me.”

Satoru released a contented sigh and reclined against the soft pillows, his arms folded beneath him.

He will never be shameless of fucking his sweet girl ever. 

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i love your writing so much! i was wondering if you could write something with leon and a clingy reader? she just likes being held by him, and one day a make out session gets out of hand while he’s holding her so he just fucks her while standing up, not letting her get down. i don’t know if this makes sense but the thought won’t leave my head. hope you’re having a good day/night! <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you're such a needy little thing. leon can't get enough of you, and when he finds out you like being held, he has to take advantage of that.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), standing sex, daddy kink

word count: 3.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the request! i FELT this one cause i also have a thing about being held hehe. i hope it's what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are really appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

It only took Leon a couple weeks of dating to figure out that his girlfriend was exceptionally needy. He could tell you tried to suppress it to the best of your ability, control your yearning for physical contact, but it was still there. Honestly, it was obvious from the way you looked at him alone. Glossy, pleading eyes just calling out to him for some love.

At first, he was wary of this trait. He wasn’t good with affection normally. Didn’t like talking about his feelings. That stuff was just too much. He’s a busy guy already. He didn’t need extra worries in the form of a sweet thing like you rubbing your cheek against his neck, snaking your arms beneath his shirt, softly pleading “Leon, I wanna cuddle.”

But his problem was that he always gave into that stuff. Words like those hitting his ears, your pouty lips begging for his kisses, and grabby hands roaming around his body always got you what you wanted. He’d plant a smooch on your temple or forehead, grunt a quiet “c’mere then baby,” and pull you on top of him.

Time passed, and you grew on him like ivy climbing a stone wall. Your clingy nature took root somewhere inside him and drove him wild. It was addictive, feeling so needed. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone’s absolute first choice. It was nice living out his days with the subconscious idea that he was your favorite person. He could get a bit cocky about it sometimes but more than anything it made him all sappy. He couldn’t help it. He tried keeping up the cool, slick persona around you for a little while because impressing you was so important to him. But the way you looked at him made him feel like Superman. Your precious face tilted upwards to gaze at him like he was the only man you’d ever laid eyes on. It just made him wanna scoop you up and take off, soar far up into the clouds where it would just be the two of you.

So he ended up feeding into this kind of behavior one thousand percent, enabling you with no reservations. If you were sitting together, you were on his lap. Standing near each other? His arm was around you, keeping you tucked to his chest. The two of you would be lying in bed and simple cuddling just didn’t cut it anymore. No, instead, he’d be rubbing your back, nuzzling and kissing your neck, massaging your scalp. And the pet names were constant. Your actual name was only reserved for serious or special occasions. In ordinary conversations, it was always “my baby” with the intermittent “precious girl” or “princess” mixed in. 

Because, from his perspective, why wouldn’t he? You both deserved this. You craved the physical affection you’d never gotten enough of while he yearned for a sweet little thing to dote on and love between the brutal DSO missions that plagued most of his time. He didn’t give a fuck if someone wanted to say it was codependent or that he was whipped. You were his baby, and if sweet tender affection was what revved your engine, what kind of man would he be to deprive you of it?

Maybe he was whipped. He wouldn’t shy away from that label. He loved you undoubtedly. His heart ached to see you smiling and laughing. Each individual cell in his body cried out to be pressed against you. But in the same breath, he’d be a liar if he said that sex played no part in his urges to coddle you.

He’d never seen a girl get as cock drunk as you. He’d warm you up with his cooing and caresses, and then all he had to do was slide a few inches in you, and you were gone. Nothing had ever gotten him so hard. It’s like your brain shut off as soon as your sweet little pussy was filled up. Really, you went the whole nine yards; whining, babbling, drooling. Your gorgeous lashes would flutter as your eyes went hazy, and you always wanted to hold his hand. Well, more specifically, you wanted him to offer his hand to you. He’d simply murmur “Aw, is it too much, princess? Here, hold daddy’s hand. That’s my girl,” and you were already cumming.

Cause that was the other part of this whole thing. Shortly after he caught on to your intense need for physical affection, he discovered your penchant for the infamous d word. The first time you’d said it, he had you pinned down to the mattress, face shoved against your pillow, hips slightly elevated while he stuffed you full of cock. You just cried it out in the same way you’d yell for God or whine “fuck.” And he rolled with it. One little word wasn’t gonna get in the way of what he’d found with you.

Beyond calling him daddy, Leon tried to take note of all the things that got you going. Sure, you were fond of physical expressions of love, and you probably wouldn’t turn down an offer from him ever. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have favorites when it came to this stuff. Leon took pride in remembering what you liked. Over the months of your relationship, he made a point to remember the specific motion you liked him to do when he rubbed your back. He burned into his mind that you liked to kiss in a way that would definitely make those over-the-top smooching noises found in network dramas. What could he say? He just wanted to do everything right for you.

Possibly his favorite thing that he discovered about you though was your love for being held. Love probably wasn’t even a strong enough word. Your affinity? Proclivity? Plain white hot need? Who fucking knows. All he knew was that you had a major thing for being wrapped up in his arms with your head on his shoulder.

The first hint he’d got at this part of you came by pure accident. He’d just arrived home from a mission, a long and taxing one at that. He’d missed you like crazy, felt as needy as you did on a daily basis, and you were practically vibrating with a longing for his touch. So when you came bounding down the hallway to meet him at the front door, he’d grabbed you by the waist, picked you up and spun you around like in an old cartoon when the prince and princess finally get their happily ever after.

Coming out of the short twirl, he’d brought you to his chest and held your body a little ways above the ground. He cradled your head to your shoulder and kept his grip tight to support you. And it wasn’t like you melted or had little hearts gleaming in your eyes, but something in your demeanor shifted.

“There’s my baby,” he muttered while smacking kisses on the side of your head.

You replied with how much you missed him, more than anything in the whole world. He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh and brought you over to the couch. You were all over him even more than normal which was really saying something. You couldn’t stop pecking his face or pushing up against him. Next thing he knew, you were tugging at his belt and taking his dick down your throat.

“Fuck, precious. don’t gotta choke yourself. It’s not goin’ anywhere,'' he hummed while tilting his head back against the couch. You weren’t normally so forward. You were always needy, but typically, you waited for him to initiate. It was much more your style to drop hints that you were in the mood and wait for him to pick up on your signals, but this time you just went for it.

He stroked the back of your head while you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time. Groans fell from his lips, and his hips jolted in small twitches. Your saliva seeped out over your soft lips and dribbled down to his balls. You had never lacked enthusiasm before, but now you were taking him like his cock was the best treat you’d ever had.

He could barely stand the sight of you in that moment. Cute eyes drooping while your cheeks hollowed. Once he heard the muted sound of you gagging, he was done for. Shot his load deep in your throat in what would have been an embarrassingly short amount of time if you were anyone else. But you swallowed it all without any complaints and then crawled into his lap to cuddle some more. As you curled up to his chest, he knew something he did struck a chord with you to get you so eager.

So naturally, he tried picking you up again a couple days later. He had to know if that was a fluke or if it really was a thing. This time it was much more intentional, but he still played it off as a teasing gesture. He scooped you up from behind while you were fidgeting with something in the kitchen, expecting a whiny chorus of “Leon!” and “Stop, put me down!” But you didn’t say either. You let out a soft squeak and a quiet “What are you doing?”

“Just giving you a hug, baby,” he teased and situated you in his embrace so your front was pressed to his.

Almost immediately, as if your skull was magnetized, your head fell to his shoulder. Your limbs tightened around him a little and you took a deep breath like you wanted to commit his scent to memory. You didn’t even complain about him pulling you away from whatever task had been occupying your attention.

“This isn’t a hug,” you’d said softly.

“Says who? Seems like a hug to me, got my arms around you,” he responded with a small kiss to your temple.

His hand rose to your head and cradled it against his shoulder as your legs locked around his waist. He stood there with you for a moment just taking in the embrace. It was as if he could feel you melt against his body.

“A hug is when we’re both standing,” you say quietly while slotting your face in the warm crook of his neck.

“Yeah? You look that up in the dictionary or something?” he mutters in return.

When he had a firm hold on you, he walked you through the living room, taking the long way up to the bedroom to give his little experiment some time to play out. You rested quietly in his grasp as he navigated past furniture. He ran his free hand up and down your back as he moved, his other one planted firmly on your thigh to support you.

After the two of you reached the bedroom, he set you down on the bed and climbed in after you. His fingers coasted across your cheek as he looked down into your eyes, studying you in a way. He was still curious about what was going through your head. Again, him holding you like that had led to some of the best sex the two of you’d had, but there was something deeper there too. This wasn’t just a cheat code to get you to drop your panties. There was an emotional part of this too. He could tell.

“So you like when I pick you up, hm?” he’d asked.

You looked up at him from your spot against his chest, glowing a bit as you came down from the high. “I guess,” you answered with a tiny shrug.

He’d chuckled at your attempt to be casual and just dropped the subject matter. Your reasons were probably sensitive to you. Located in a deep, private cavern of your heart that was too guarded for you to let even him in yet. And that was ok with him. For now, he’d just chalk it up to some desire on an instinctual level. It was just something that made you tick, and it became something he did for you from time to time when you needed that extra level of care.

This evening, the two of you had been watching some movie. To be honest, Leon didn’t even remember what it was called at this point because he didn’t really wanna watch it in the first place. He was much more interested in you. You had just started it up as he arrived home from running some errands though, so he didn’t want to be rude and ask you to shut it off just because he was horny. Instead, he flopped down next to you on the couch. 

A small laugh bubbles from your lips as he pulls you to him and kisses down the side of your face, murmuring for you to explain what’s going on in the thing you were watching. You ramble on about the story, telling him that it’s the end of the world and these guys are trapped in this house, and that one is friends with that one but hates the other one, and blah blah blah. He loved you to death, but he just couldn’t care less about that right now. He hums along with a stream alternating between  “mhm” and “oh yeah.”

Your laughter increases as his kisses become more distracting. He nips at the skin of your throat and litters your soft skin with love bites. His tongue laves at your neck as his nose coasts over your flesh. After a while, your own interest in the movie begins to dwindle. You turn your head and plant some smooches on his face, enticing him to tilt his head upwards. The two of you meet in the middle, connecting your lips.

Mouths move in sync, tongues brush each other, and soon enough, your seat’s been abandoned in favor of your true favorite spot. You’re parked on his lap, the lush flesh of your ass flush against his semi-hard bulge. His hand slithers up your back underneath your shirt to rub up and down your spine while pulling you closer. Your breathing gets heavier, and you’re practically panting when you two finally pull away for a break. Your lips are wet with spit and a little puffy from making out. He drags his thumb over your bottom one as he smirks at your glazed eyes.

“Think you’d be ok with finishing this later?” he asks.

To his pleasure, you’re quick to accept the offer with a nod. “Seen it before anyways,” you admit and lean back in for more kisses.

He chuckles into your mouth and boosts you up without even turning the tv off. He’s stumbling to the bedroom, and you’re latched onto him like a little spidermonkey or something. He knew well by now that being carried took your brain to that sweet spot of utter submission, but today you were on something else entirely. You were getting whiny between kisses. He was having to support you extra because your hands were trying to slide in between the two of you and get at his pants. He assumed it was cause he got you riled up before picking you up, but he didn’t lament about it too much. He wasn’t thinking with his head right now.

All your squirming around nearly made him trip and topple the both of you to the ground. He grunts and shifts you around, trying to get you to settle down at least till you reach the bedroom. You wouldn’t let up though, continuing on with your impatient hip rocking and greedy fingers. He’s sure he’s about to fall over and one of you is moments away from serious injury, so he totters a few steps over and secures you against the wall.

“Jesus, you’d think I’d just got back from a war or something,” he breathes.

You laugh, but keep up your neediness. “Just want you so bad. Missed my daddy all day,” you murmur.

“Yeah? I know it’s hard being away from me. Your little head’s just not cut out for all that thinking is it?” he coos condescendingly, “This is how you're meant to be, just attached to daddy, letting him take care of everything while you tag along.”

“Mhm,” you nod and kiss him again. He can feel you smiling against his lips.

“Yeah, so how bout you do me a favor then and stop wriggling around so much. You wanna get dropped on your head so thinking isn’t even an option anymore?” he teases.

“No. I just…” you whimper defensively. A smile spreads across your face as you hide your face at the base of his neck. “I just want you… really bad.”

That was a tone Leon knew well by now. That was the tone of the guessing game. It was the voice you used when you wanted something but were too shy to just ask for it. So Leon had to decipher your signals and figure out what that thing was. Luckily, this time around it was pretty simple.

“Really bad? Like pinned down in the middle of the hallway while I’m stuffing you full of cum bad?” he asks.

“Sorta…” you say.

With an amused shake of his head, he thinks a little more. The stuffed full of cum thing was a given. So what was off? He was thinking through this as if searching for a missing puzzle piece. He runs through different scenarios before it clicks. He laughs a little. It was kind of obvious once he had it.

“Oh, of course not. There’s no way you’d choose to be out of my arms. What was I thinking?” he says, exaggerating his cadence, “So you want it standing?”

You nod, and with the right answer, that little smile feels so much sweeter. He leans harder into you, keeping you by pressing you between him and the wall. Giving you a few messy kisses, he finally undoes his pants and pushes them down to his mid-thigh. He was fully hard now. You could feel it as he rolled his hips against your center.

“Lucky you’re wearing a skirt, nice and easy for me,” he hums.

He bunches up the fabric around your waist before dragging his fingers over your panties, feeling how they were damp. He smirks against your lips while applying more pressure, seeking out your swollen clit.

“Already so wet, baby,” he chides, “Is this how you get while I’m not with you? Can’t think of anything but daddy cause your pretty pussy’s just crying for some more attention.”

“Yeah, need you to make the ache go away,” you say in a breathy whimper.

“I know you do,” he coos.

It’s a bit difficult in this position, but Leon manages to remove the last barriers of cloth separating the two of you. He lines up his dick with your entrance and slides home. Now it’s his head that falls on your shoulder as he groans. His stance didn’t really allow him to ease in. He was balls deep in the first stroke. You let out a long satisfied moan.

Taking a moment to readjust, he gets his elbows hooked under the bends of your knees. You’re basically bent in half, his cock to your cervix. This angle felt even deeper too. Your walls pulse around him as you work to accommodate the length.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Every part of you clings to me,” he grunts before taking a step away from the wall.

Losing the stability behind your back had you rocking and shifting more, causing his tip to nudge against all those sweet spots. Your thighs quiver as Leon gets into a rhythm and figures out how to bounce you on his cock like his. The sound of your skin meeting floats down the hallway. You whine and whimper, your eyes roll back as your head tilts the same direction.

He could tell you were loving it. Your favorite place to be combined with your favorite feeling in the entire world. There was nothing his sweet girl loved more than being stuffed full of cock and held by him.

“Feeling good, princess? Is daddy fucking you just how you wanted?” he asks.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” you whimper and nod dumbly.

“Good,” he says. He focuses on working himself in and out of you. His mind is locked on the sensation of your slick coating his shaft and collecting at the base, dripping down to his balls. But more words fill his mind and rush to his mouth to be let out. “This is why you’re so needy, right baby? You just need some cock in you or you get so frustrated. Can’t even think straight without your fill, can you?”

You shake your head wildly. Your legs tense over his arms. His hands dig into your back to keep you supported. You see his biceps flexing beneath his sleeves as he uses his strength to hold you up. He rocks you on his cock, back and forth, sliding himself in and out. You’re gasping and trembling more noticeably now. He knows you’re approaching the peak.

“Doing so good for me, precious,” he murmurs, “Keep squeezing me like that so I can fill you up just how you need.”

Your noises become more desperate. It feels as though you get even tighter. Leon slams into you deeper than you could remember. But then again, in this state, your memory wasn’t worth much. Pumping in and out, he sees your eyes squeeze show, your mouth widening into that cute familiar shape it always made when you came.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess for daddy,” he groans.

You do as he says, following your orders. You seize up and moan, long and loud. He tightens his grip and takes a step closer to the wall to ensure your high isn’t cut by falling. His hips don’t stop though. He feels that tensing in his belly. Gritting his teeth, he pounds you over and over until he has to stumble back to the wall.

You hit the surface with a thud, but he’s a little too busy to notice. He growls and whimpers into your neck, hips working at a more strained pace as he tries to grab that brief euphoria. A few thrusts later and release is washing over him. He fucks you full, going deep and staying true to his word about filling you up. He pumps every last drop in.

You slowly slide down in his arms till he lets go of your legs and your feet can touch the ground again. Looking up at him as he comes down, you watch his features melt into the relaxation of post-release. You lean up and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His eyes open and look down at you. A lazy smile spreads on his face and moves in to return the gesture.

“So how’d I do?” he asks with that smug look you loved so much.

“Perfect like always,” you answer, genuine in contrast to his teasing. You step forward on wobbly legs, grabbing his hand to finish your trip to the bedroom together. He leans down and smacks a kiss on your neck.

“Clearly not perfect enough if you’re walking on your own now,” he purrs in your ear.

You smile and look down. “There’s still time to fix that,” you offer.

“Of course there is,” he agrees with a light swat to your ass. He pecks your lips once more before following you through the entryway to your shared room.

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 3

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ stalking, delusional, homewrecking, mentions of cp being used to frame people ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and Part 2 !

What used to be a sight Junho looks forward to seeing every time he wakes up turned into a harsh reminder that (y/n) is now engaged.

All this time, it turns out that (y/n)'s fiance had been overseas, volunteering to be a teacher in less privileged countries. But now, he's back and as soon as he came back to the country, he asked his girlfriend to marry him.

With a sharp glare to the window he used to see inside (y/n)'s house, Junho sipped in his black coffee; the bitterness in the coffee was nothing compared to how bitter he was feeling inside. The happy couple were chatting over breakfast before they go to work together.

He hates how it has been ever since the announcement. (y/n) used to be able to babysit his precious son every day but now she only is able to watch over his son on weekends. He never gets to see the sight of his love making him dinner and greeting him with a smile after a long day of work anymore since she leaves as soon as he gets home to take care of her fiance.

This also means that he is not able to cuddle with her in his bed anymore.

Junho knew that all of this had escalated to something creepy and he had tried to move on but he couldn't help but feel his blood boil when he saw (y/n)'s fiance work with her in the kindergarten now.

"Daddy... Why doesn't mommy take care of me anymore?" Junho's son, Yoon, asked one day as Junho was tucking his son into bed one night.

"It's... It's complicated, buddy... She'll come back soon I promise." Junho also said that to himself even though it was impossible.

"Oh... I hope she comes back soon... I miss her..." Yoon said before falling asleep, leaving a tired and heartbroken Junho to retreat back into his room.

He then picked up his phone to log into the software he uses to stalk (y/n) through the hidden camera he put inside a stuffed animal he gave to (y/n) one day. He knows he shouldn't do it since it'll only break his heart but he missed her too much.

The first thing he noticed was how the doll wasn't even on her bed anymore; put aside in the corner of her room to make space for the fiance. Then, he noticed a giggly (y/n) who was cuddling in her fiance's arms as the two looked at each other lovingly. It went on for a long while before the two eventually fell asleep in each other's arm and Junho was watching every second of it.

Junho wanted to look away. Watching the two all lovey dovey like that when it should've been him was like when he found out about the news that broke his beautiful fantasy; his heart breaking and set on fire over and over again. But watching them also made him realize how he couldn't let (y/n) go just like that.

Junho knew it was risky business breaking into the kindergarten both (y/n) and her fiance taught in in the middle of the night. It was also risky to somehow get his hands on some nsfw videos and pictures of children to plant in the fiance's work computer.

He figured out that the computers inside the kindergarten had no password from (y/n) due to the computers only being used to play children music, print coloring pages or making some worksheets for the kids. The teachers in the kindergarten don't really worry what's on hiding what's in their work computers since there's nothing really important on them anyway.

Junho had a plan all prepared. He was going to plant the evidence and call the police the next day. He was going to say that he saw one of the teachers working at his son's kindergarten was looking at some illegal media and then get the bastard that stole his beloved from him behind bars.

Plus, when it makes (y/n) react negatively he can swoop in and make her feel all better! In Junho's mind, he is killing two birds with one stone.

He knew that the plan would work and it did. The next day, the police took (y/n)'s fiance into custody when he was picking his son up from school. The other kindergarten teachers were looking at the whole arrest in shock while (y/n) was trying to understand what was going on. She was confused on why her fiance was getting arrested and she wanted to know what happened.

The next few days were hectic for (y/n). Her house had to be searched by the police for evidence since that's where her fiance had been staying ever since he came back to the country. It didn't help when the police began speculating that she was also in on it at some point before the idea was brushed off.

(y/n) felt as if she did not knew who her fiance really was. She thought there was nothing she didn't know about him since they were high school sweethearts and when the police told her that someone reported seeing her fiance having videos of children in a nsfw way, she felt her heart break.

As a teacher and his fiance, she felt disgusted at how her fiance for having those materials while teaching around children.

It was midnight when (y/n) was sitting in the middle of the kitchen as she drank a bottle of wine. Her eyes were puffy from crying since her emotions were still running wild and how betrayed she felt towards her fiance.

The house was dark and deathly silent other from the sobs coming out of (y/n). Where had it all gone wrong? When did her fiance started to watch these illegal videos? Had he engaged in abusing these children himself? (y/n) didn't know and she didn't really want to know since her heart will only break further thinking of how sorry she felt for any victims her fiance could have abused.

The doorbell then resonated throughout the empty house making (y/n) jump. She tiredly wiped her tears as she walked over to the front door, not noticing how she was still holding onto the bottle of wine.

When she opened the door, she saw a concerned looking Junho in front of the door.

"Junho..." (y/n) tried to greet before breaking into tears again and sinking into the ground. Her hand dropping the wine bottle and began covering her crying face.

In an instant, Junho sank down alongside her as he took the shaking into his muscular arms.

"shh... shh... don't worry... I'm here..." Junho tried to reassure as he rubbed circles on her back to try and calm her down.

Junho had to stop himself from taking a big sniff at when (y/n) began to nuzzle herself into his arms. He truly missed having (y/n) in his arms again after the mental turmoil he experienced looking at how happy she was with a man that wasn't him.

All of that won't matter anymore though since the fiance is now out of the picture and Junho will gladly play the role of (y/n)'s loving husband.

A/N HI IM BACK BUT NOT RLLY SINCE IM ACTUALLY STILL RLLY BUSY SO I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL UPLOAD AGAIN AAA.

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟱]

synopsis. megumi believes that the greatest stroke of serendipity is his dad and you tucking him into bed.

words. 1.4k

warnings. none!

note. living off of gojo crumbs these days..life is not gojo-ing the way it used to gojo 😔💔

previous || next || masterlist

family tasted like honey. thick and sweet and easy to spread out, even though it was a pain to wipe the excess of it off the spoon.

megumi knew what honey tasted like, but it was too sweet for his tastes until the evening his dad tucked him into the sheets and the dim lights of the lamp dipped the room into golden hues. kuro and shiro were curled up at his little feet, keeping megumi warm and cozy like a cocoon of fur.

a teddy bear — one that satoru had won for him at a fair — was in megumi’s arms while he stared at his dad with eyes like that of a doe. innocent and pure, but a little sleepy around the edges. “where’s [name]?” megumi pouted, blinking his big eyes.

a look of surprise flashed across satoru’s features and yet..he wasn’t surprised at all. the kid was so attached to you, always wanting you in this little home and asking about your whereabouts. he had been devastated when satoru explained why you couldn’t come over because of your period and even wrote you a little card, wishing you a speedy recovery for your tummy aches.

“she’s washing the dishes, little man,” satoru explained calmly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you need anything from her?”

a beat of silence. then, megumi nodded his head once slowly. “yeah. it’s important.”

affectionately, satoru ruffled a hand through megumi’s messy locks and chuckled like he always did: so carefree and easy-going. “fine. i’ll get her. wait a sec, yeah?”

megumi eagerly waited in his bed with his black eyes round as the moon and shimmering like the night sky just outside his window when his dad came back with you in tow. the mattress dipped underneath your weight and some more as satoru took a seat right next to you on the edge of his bed.

this was the picture megumi wanted to see for so, so long.

his papa being next to his mama, tucking him in and wishing him a good night.

“papa told me you wanted to see me?” you asked with a gentle smile sitting upon your lips, voice soft as silk and warm as..honey.

yeah, maybe honey wasn’t too bad if you were there.

the innocent words of a mere child got stuck in megumi’s throat. dark eyes darted about the room, plump cheeks reddened like ripe apples on a warm summer day and for some reason, his heart was pounding under his ribs. instead of hurrying him, you waited patiently for megumi to find his words that had gotten lost in his throat.

“can you tell me another story?” megumi mumbled into his precious teddy bear with the fancy bow wrapped around the neck.

ah, how sweet of a kid megumi was. you swore your heart melted like ice-cream in the sun and turned into nothing but a puddle.

“you tell him bedtime stories?” satoru inquired. lips pulled into a warm smirk, he couldn’t help but feel curious what his son and the cute babysitter were up to when he way away for work.

“i do,” you confirmed, “every evening, i tell him a story until he falls asleep.”

satoru chuckled. “you’re lucky, buddy. [name] never tells me stories when it’s bedtime for me.”

at that, megumi giggled. “papa’s jealous.”

was this what family was like?

to have mama and papa sitting on the edge of his bed, tucking him in and being so playful with each other? to go on walks together and have mama tend to his scraped knee while papa was busy scolding the stones megumi had slipped on?

megumi never wanted to let go of that feeling. ever. not even homework could ruin the warm, fuzzy feeling of honey in his tummy.

nonchalantly, you waved a hand in front of satoru’s face, brushing his feelings of so-called jealousy off. “anyways,” you said, “let’s see what tonight’s story will be..”

behind you, you could feel satoru pouting at the way you dismissed him like he was nothing but a fly on your shoulder and maybe he even whispered to megumi how cruel women could be, but you paid his antics no mind.

“ah.” your face lit up when you came up with a little story. “a long, long time ago, there lived a princess far away from home. all she wanted to be was a child, but her big bad brother forced her to become the wife of a king of a culture foreign to her. but despite her hardships, she wasn’t alone. you know why?"

a gasp fell from megumi’s lips; the kid was obviously hooked from the very moment you opened your mouth. “tell me! what happened to the princess? did a prince rescue her?” he asked, wanting to know all the details about the world you had made up in your head just for him.

shaking your head, you smiled and leaned in like megumi’s excitement was rubbing off on you. “even better. she was gifted three dragon eggs that would eventually hatch and bring magic back to the world…”

while the princess was starting to conquer the world with her dragons and make a name for herself, megumi fell asleep. his little eyes felt like lead and all that could be heard were his soft snores and an occasional sniffle. the teddy bear was still held tightly by megumi though. not even an apocalypse could rip the plushie from his hands, you and satoru thought.

“so dragons and princesses? that’s what you’ve been telling my son about?” satoru inquired once he closed the door behind megumi’s bedroom and it was just the two of you on his couch, watching the last scenes of some mediocre rom-com play out.

“so you are jealous,” giggling, you nudged satoru playfully before relaxing back into the soft cushions with a sigh making it past your lips.

it was a little moment of peace before you’d go back to your own home. the more you were with the gojos, the more you noticed that your four walls lacked some life. sure, a couple of plants lived on your shelves and on the window sill, but they weren’t a little kid asking for cookies right before lunch or dogs barking in their sleep or satoru who’d keep you company on the couch.

home was nice, but this..this was family. life.

“maybe a little bit,” satoru joked and stretched his arm along the backrest, so close to your shoulders. how badly he wanted to just pull you in and relive the moment you snoozed away on him, but he refrained from doing so.

like there was an invisible line he didn’t want to cross.

satoru blamed the rapid beating of his heart on the way you handled megumi. how couldn’t he feel a little attracted to you when you got along with his son so well? it was just the hormones, he wanted to tell himself but the budding feeling in the soil of his heart spoke otherwise.

it wouldn’t be long until that sprout would grow roots and bloom into something that would fill the cavern of his chest; lungs, arteries, heart and veins. all of it would be in full bloom.

while satoru could rip out the budding something like it was weed, he chose not to.

“you know, there is a little party that my company holds and i thought it’d be nice if you became my plus one,” satoru spoke in soft tones before settling his sky blue gaze on your surprised face. he could watch the cogs in your head processing his words and then– ah, it clicked.

“..are you sure? i don’t think i’d fit in well.” furrowing your eyebrows, you immediately thought about all those men in suits from brands you couldn’t even pronounce and their curled mustaches, their wives draped in diamonds and everything fine.

it was a world you didn’t belong to and yet..

“let that worry be mine,” satoru assured you with an easy shrug of his shoulders and a smile on his lips which was so easy on the eyes. “you’re the only person who could make that evening interesting and there’s free food.”

“i’m in.” you immediately agreed.

satoru blinked in surprise.

so all it took for you to accompany him was the promise of free food.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon, @risuola, @ayanominitrash, @lordbugs, @phoenix666stuff, @hotvinimon, @stevenknightmarc, @sukunasleftkneecap, @erigaur, @lu-lynds, @staryukis

[proxycrit]

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

[eternity-death]

Sunday thought of the day:

Sunday likes to leave traces of himself on you.

He’ll adorn your neck with beautiful jewelry, classy and not too gaudy, made with precious stones that were imported from other star systems. Your favorite dress was commissioned by him, hand-made with the softest fabrics and finest stitching (Sunday reviews the stitching himself. The seamsters who worked on the apparel can only stand there with bone-chilling anticipation as Sunday silently— meticulously— scrutinizes the sewing. He only wants the best for his darling, after all). He’s bought some aromatic oils for you too. When you get ready in the morning, he takes his time massaging it into your wrists and the pulse points of your neck (you don’t seem to realize it’s the same scent that he uses).

They are all symbols of affiliation— a claim over you that remains unspoken. Despite this, others are not ignorant to the tacit message that reflects off of the glimmering stones in your necklace, or the luster of the silks that swathe you: you are involved with Sunday, and one should remain circumspect in their interactions with you.

[truly-fantastic-me]

Me, some months ago: Hmm. Pterano would make a great pirate.

Me: No, seriously, he literally kidnaps a child and goes after a 'magical' stone. That sounds like something a power-hungry pirate captain would do.

Me: He even talks like a pirate sometimes. Like not a stereotypical pirate, but there are certain tones he uses that screams adventurer energy.

Me: Also, being a middle-aged, queer-coded, traumatized, morally grey character is practically the recipe for a pirate.

Me: Plus, he would look handsome as hell in pirate attire.

Me now, almost a year later: You know what, I'm gonna make this AU a thing. Though it'll probably be in the form of some RP or a few short comics.

[ekbatdesebat]

@genrcsavvy​ ❛ I don’t truly know what’s gonna happen when the lights go out. ❜ 

“If you are frightened by the dark stay close to me and I will protect you,” The Princess said with a  strange matter-of-factness more suited to a child. But then Lacta’liguna was essentially a theocracy, it’s Priestess-Queens were regarded as the embodiment of life itself. So while arrogant and childish no one could blame Leeloo for that complete confidence in herself, sshe had been raised with it. 

[ayaboba]

shimmer ‘n glimmer

summary: what’s their favourite piece of jewellery on you?

chars: ayato, alhaitham, diluc, pantalone, kazuha, wanderer, albedo, kaeya, xiao, childe, thoma, cyno, tighnari, kaveh.

warnings: sfw, established relationship, lmk if i missed any, slightly proofread.

Necklaces - Ayato, Alhaitham, Diluc, Pantalone

They adore the way the elegant piece illuminates your whole face and makes you look so devastatingly beautiful. (if that was even possible in their eyes). Somehow knows just which ones suit you best, to your utter surprise. Just beware; if you ask for some assistance, be weary that you might end up buying the whole store. Ask about it, and they’ll reply, 'You said you wanted to get the ones that looked nice on you, and that’s what I did.’

Rings - Kazuha, Wanderer, Albedo

They love how it’s simple yet also intimate in a way. To them, it’s a promise of forever love, shown by the matching accessories wrapped around both of your fingers. Truly, it doesn’t matter if it’s been made with the finest stones or most precious minerals; they’d (secretly) still be content with simple paper rings handcrafted by the both of you.

Bracelets - Kaeya, Xiao, Childe, Thoma

They like how it’s easy to wear and secure without the lingering fear of it getting lost. Very big fans of randomly attaching cute little charms every now and then. You’d wake up one morning with a new charm added, and then another. It’s a reminder of how important you are to them. And to them, it’s a rather special way of displaying their love for you.

Earrings - Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh

The first time they noticed your earrings, they were completely and utterly transfixed. almost hypnotised by the little glints it made with each of your movements. It was so distracting. You were always so distracting, but in such an addictive and bewitching way. It became a little weakness for them, but they sure aren’t complaining.