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mononijikayu · 9 hours

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i have love and dreams too — gojo satoru.

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?” Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead. “I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live. Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

WARNING/S: spoilers for chapter 271 of jjk (spoilers at your behest), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 6.8k words.

NOTE: i rush wrote this at uni, at the restaurant i was at and then a car on the way back and forth from uni and home. i just started crying profusely because i hated how jjk ended. and i hated that panel with satoru and yuji because i just kept crying. i cant believe this is the end, but i cant believe even more that this is what satoru had to deal with. this is the most rushed end and the saddest end.

i wish gege had decided to take a break and decided to take his time. but alas this is not my story. still, id like to make more for satoru. ones where he'd be so loved. genmei (you) and satoru will always be happy in whatever life you have, that i write. for bitter or for worse. even in death. smiling is all there will be. even with tears.

anyway, i hope you bear with me, for i am very emotional. thank you for understanding this situation. i love you all, i'll see you soon <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

GOJO SATORU IS EXHAUSTED. But he thinks that there is no use to sleep. He knows he cannot. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, the light too dim to chase away the shadows that lingered in every corner, just like the uncertainty that hung between you and Satoru.

He sat across from you on the edge of the bed, his usual carefree demeanor gone, replaced by a solemn stillness that felt out of place on him. His eyes, usually so vibrant and mischievous, were tired tonight, the weight of tomorrow pulling down his every breath.

"You don’t have to do this." Your voice came out in a whisper, the words heavy with a desperation you’d been trying to suppress.

Satoru didn’t answer right away. His gaze was locked on the floor, and for a moment, you wondered if he was even listening. But then he looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, and there was something in them you rarely saw—fear.

"It’s not like I have a choice," he murmured, his voice strained. "You know that."

You did. And that made it worse. He was the strongest, after all. If anyone had to stand against Sukuna, it was him. But the weight of those expectations had never felt heavier than it did now, with the reality of the fight looming closer with every passing second.

"I hate this, Satoru." you confessed, your voice trembling. "I hate that it always comes down to you, that you’re the one who has to bear this."

Satoru smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stood and crossed the small space between you, kneeling in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. His touch was warm, grounding, but it did nothing to quell the storm raging inside you.

"Hey." he said softly, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. "I know it’s not fair. But it’s what I have to do."

You shook your head, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. "But what if—" The words caught in your throat, the question too painful to finish.

Satoru’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. "Don’t think about that," he whispered, his voice as soft as the night air outside. "Not tonight."

"But how can I not?" you shot back, your frustration breaking through. "How can I pretend that everything will be fine when I know you’re going to face him? When I know there’s a chance that—"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips gentle but firm, grounding you in the present, in this moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"I’ll come back to you," he promised, but even he couldn’t hide the uncertainty in his voice. “To you and Satoshi. And… I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be.”

It was the way he said it—so sure, so certain—that made it all the more unbearable. As if speaking it aloud would somehow make it true, would make the universe bend to his will the same way he bent the forces of space and time. But you knew better now, didn’t you? You’ve always known. Satoru Gojo, the man who was too powerful to fail, too stubborn to admit defeat, could never stop lying—not to you, not to himself. He believed in his own invincibility, as if his strength alone could rewrite the world.

But the world doesn’t work that way.

And you think then, that your husband has always been a liar.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard those words, promises wrapped in silk and carelessness, the way they tumbled off his tongue so casually. It was as though the act of saying it was enough for him, as though the truth could be commanded with just his voice. And maybe for a long time, it was.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could bend the world to his whims and yet still—he was human. And humans lie. Sometimes because they have to, sometimes because the lie feels better than the truth.

But tonight, in the quiet hours before dawn, the weight of his words pressed down harder than ever. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be. You wanted to scream at him, to shake him, to make him stop speaking as if the world was something he could fix with his bare hands. Megumi was gone, taken by darkness, by fate, and Tsumiki…Tsumiki was as good as lost to you both. Even if Satoru came back, even if he somehow survived this fight with Sukuna, the cracks in your family couldn’t simply be patched over like they had never existed.

You bit your lip, tasting the bitterness of unshed tears.

"You always say that," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the night. "But you don’t know this time, do you?"

His gaze faltered, the usual gleam in his eyes dimming for a fraction of a second. It was a flicker of something too vulnerable, too raw—something he rarely let anyone see. It was the truth that lingered behind his endless bravado, the truth that no amount of strength could hide: he didn’t know if he could win this time.

And you had known it all along.

Satoru had always come back to you. Bruised, battered, bleeding—but alive. He would stumble through the door with that infuriating grin, wipe the blood off his face with the back of his hand, and act like nothing had ever been in doubt. But this time was different. This wasn’t just another battle against curses or enemies who fell beneath his overwhelming strength. This was Sukuna.

"I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back," he had said, as if they were just lost children in the woods, waiting for him to lead them home. But Megumi had slipped beyond reach, swallowed by the very darkness Satoru had spent his life fighting. How could he promise to bring him back when he could barely keep the pieces of himself together?

"You can’t save everyone, Satoru," you whispered, your heart breaking as you said it aloud, the truth as bitter as the lie was sweet. "Not even with all your power."

His hand tightened around yours, his grip almost too strong, as if holding onto you could somehow anchor him to the world, to the promise he so desperately wanted to believe. "I have to try," he murmured, his voice rough, as if the words themselves were painful to speak. "For you. For Satoshi. For them."

Satoshi. Your son. His name hung in the air like a thread between you, a fragile tether that held what little remained of your family together. You could see it in Satoru’s eyes—the fear of leaving his child without a father, the guilt of not being able to protect him from the storm that loomed over your lives. But you also saw the lie there, the same lie he told every time he went to war. The lie that he would come back unscathed, that he could shield all of you from the world’s cruelty just by being who he was.

But he couldn’t. Not this time.

"Satoru," you whispered, your voice breaking. "You don’t have to be everything for us. You don’t have to be invincible."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped. He let you see the man beneath the legend, the man who was just as terrified as you were. "I’m not invincible," he admitted, the words barely audible. "But I can’t give up on them. I can’t give up on us."

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even in his most vulnerable moments, even when the odds were impossibly stacked against him, Satoru Gojo refused to let go of hope. He clung to it as fiercely as he clung to you, because to do anything less would mean admitting that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t strong enough.

And in that moment, you realized something: it wasn’t that your husband was a liar. It was that he couldn’t afford to tell the truth, because if he did, the weight of it might break him.

So, you let him hold onto his lie, let him believe in a future where you, Satoshi, Megumi, and Tsumiki could all be together again. Maybe it was kinder that way. For both of you.

As the night stretched on and the inevitable dawn crept closer, you pressed your face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For now, that was all you had—the warmth of him beside you, the sound of his heart still beating, the fragile hope that somehow, against all odds, he would come back to you.

And maybe, just maybe, the lie would come true.

“I always have, don’t I?” he added, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, that signature bravado surfacing in an attempt to reassure you. “I’ve always won the day. I’ll come back.”

Your husband’s bright eyes—those crystalline blue eyes that had seen so much, fought through so much—they betrayed him. Beneath that unwavering confidence, there was something else. Fear? Doubt? It was a crack in the façade of the invincible man you married, a truth too terrifying to speak aloud.

Your throat tightened as you met his gaze, the silence between you heavier than any words could be. He had always come back, hadn’t he? Through every impossible battle, every mission that should have left him broken or worse, he had somehow returned to you, grinning as if the world itself were a game only he knew how to win.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. The nights he returned bruised, bleeding, barely standing, those nights played in your mind like a broken record. He made light of it all, brushing off your worries with a laugh, a kiss, a flippant “I’m fine.” But those were lies too, weren’t they? Lies wrapped in love.

“Satoru,” you breathed, your voice unsteady, “you don’t have to say it.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, and that brief flicker of vulnerability nearly undid you. He pulled you closer, his hand cradling the back of your neck, his touch tender but laced with desperation. "But I will come back," he insisted, his voice soft but firm. "I always do."

You wanted to believe him. You needed to. Because to imagine a world where he didn’t come back, where that promise wasn’t fulfilled, was a world too cruel to fathom. But tonight, as the shadow of Sukuna loomed larger than ever, the weight of that lie pressed down on you both. What if this time, his strength wasn’t enough?

“What if…” you started, but he silenced you with a finger pressed gently against your lips.

“No ‘what ifs,’” he whispered, though you both knew better than that. Satoru had lived his life defying fate, bending it to his will. But not even the strongest sorcerer could escape death forever.

His hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your face as if trying to memorize it, as if this moment might be his last chance. You could see the weight of the world in his eyes, the burden of being the one everyone relied on, the one expected to face the impossible—and win.

But for once, he wasn’t invincible to you. He was just a man, your husband, and for the first time, you saw the lie for what it was: his way of protecting you. Of protecting himself from the truth that this might be the one fight he couldn’t walk away from.

You placed your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin, and in that moment, you didn’t care about lies or truths, about promises or fears. You just wanted him here, now, with you. "Then stay with me a little longer," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Satoru closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, and nodded. "I’m here," he said, pulling you into his arms, his voice a soft, almost broken promise. "I’m here."

And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, neither speaking, just holding onto each other as if by doing so, you could freeze time, stop the inevitable from coming. You memorized the feel of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat under your palm. You clung to the moment as if it were your last.

As the night wore on, you both lay down, tangled in each other’s arms. Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, it was fitful, haunted by the looming specter of tomorrow. You held onto him tightly, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear into the darkness, never to return.

In the early hours before dawn, Satoru stirred, his arms tightening around you one last time. The weight of the night clung to both of you, thick and heavy, the silence between his breaths and your heart beats a fragile barrier against the coming storm.

You felt him shift beside you, his warmth pulling you closer, as if holding you tighter could keep the inevitable at bay for just a moment longer. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch familiar, grounding, but laced with an unspoken tension.

"I’ll be back, hm?" he whispered again, the words soft and lingering in the stillness. His voice, usually so sure, faltered at the edges, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to comfort you.

He said it like a prayer, like repeating it enough times could bend fate, twist reality to make it true. But you knew better. You both did. Those words, though meant to soothe, carried the weight of all the times you’d heard them before, and the growing fear that this time might be different.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The knot in your throat tightened, a lump of unspoken fears and uncried tears. There was too much to say, too much that couldn’t be put into words without breaking whatever fragile hope remained between you. If you spoke now, you might lose whatever composure you had left, and you needed to hold on to it, if only for his sake.

Instead, you pressed your face against his chest, your ear resting just above his heart. The steady, rhythmic beating echoed through your body, its cadence familiar and reassuring, a sound that had become synonymous with home.

It was the same heartbeat you’d fallen asleep to countless nights, the one you’d clung to after long missions, when he’d returned battered but smiling, and you’d held him just like this—like he was your anchor to the world.

But this time, it was different. You weren’t just seeking comfort; you were memorizing it. The sound, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, the warmth of his skin against yours. You were committing it all to memory, engraving it deep into your soul because, somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet voice whispered that this might be the last time.

Each beat of his heart became a marker, a reminder of the moments you had shared, of all the laughter and love and quiet nights like this one. But now, it also carried the weight of what could be lost. The inevitability of tomorrow pressed against your chest, suffocating, as if time itself was slipping through your fingers.

You tighten your grip around him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, unwilling to let go, even as the sky outside began to lighten with the first traces of dawn. The sun was rising, and with it, the time for him to leave drew nearer.

Satoru’s hand moved to your hair, his fingers threading through it gently, soothingly. He kissed the top of your head, and though his touch was as tender as ever, there was a lingering sadness in it. He held you like he was trying to memorize you, too, like this was as much for him as it was for you. He didn’t say anything more, perhaps because he knew that no words would ease the ache that had settled between you, a chasm neither of you could cross.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room, you felt him shift again, his breath hitching slightly as he prepared to rise. You wanted to beg him to stay, to forget about everything else, just for today. But you knew he couldn’t, and you wouldn’t ask that of him. He had a duty, a burden that he had carried for as long as you had known him. And no matter how much you wanted to keep him safe, you couldn’t shield him from what was coming.

When he finally moved to leave, your arms loosened around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go completely. Not yet. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than he needed to, as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this last fragment of peace before it was shattered.

“I’ll be back.” he whispered once more, his breath warm against your skin.

This time, you didn’t respond because you couldn’t. Instead, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat linger in your memory, holding onto it as tightly as you held onto him. The door would close behind him soon, and with it, he would walk into the fight of his life, a battle that you both knew could be his last. But for now, in this fleeting moment before dawn, you let yourself believe in the lie, because the truth was too painful to bear.

And when he finally left, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone in the silence, the echo of his promise lingering in the air, fragile and fleeting.

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY, BUT HE JUST FELT LIKE TALKING. Quite unlike him, if he was being honest with himself. But as Gojo Satoru sat beside Itadori Yuji, all he could think about was peace of mind. And to do that, he thinks he should talk.

Gojo Satoru could feel his usual smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, though today it felt more subdued. They had been talking for a while now, their conversation meandering from one thing to another. But beneath Satoru’s lighthearted tone, Yuji sensed something deeper. Something weighed heavy on his teacher’s mind.

“When something happens, I want you to be there for me, Yuji.” Satoru said suddenly, his eyes staring ahead. His voice was soft, but not weak—it carried the strength of someone who had lived with the knowledge that he had to bear the world on his shoulders. “I have love and dreams too, you know.”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in Satoru’s words. He wasn’t used to hearing his sensei talk like this, with a depth that seemed so different from his usual carefree attitude.

Satoru glanced at Yuji, his smile widening slightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you know, one day, everyone will grow up and leave me behind, right?”

Yuji didn’t know how to respond. The idea of leaving Satoru behind felt impossible. But Satoru’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his loneliness. It was a rare glimpse into the mind of the man everyone thought was invincible.

“I have high hopes for you.” Satoru continued, his voice becoming more playful, but there was something fragile beneath the surface. “Desire and ambition!”

“I could never forget you.” Yuji said as he smiled nervously, trying to deflect the seriousness with humor, though it didn’t quite land.

Satoru sighed. “I honestly think it’s better to have someone stronger than me who can truly forget my existence.”

“Isn’t that a bit concerning, Sensei?” Yuji asked after a moment, tilting his head. “Are you okay with that?”

Satoru’s smile softened. “Ah, you’re so young and naïve!” he said fondly, his voice carrying an almost paternal tone. “You’re brimming with confidence, aren’t you?”

The conversation lulled, and for a moment, the two sat in silence, the air between them thick with unsaid things. And then, Satoru spoke again, but this time his voice was lower, as if he were confessing something he hadn’t shared with anyone else.

“You know, Yuji…..” Satoru began, his gaze distant. The most emotional Yuji had seen him to be. “Sometimes I wish I could just… run away. With my beloved. My wife. Megumi, Tsumiki, and little Satoshi too. I dream about it sometimes. Hiding us away somewhere no one could find us. No more battles, no more curses… just peace. We’d be a family again.”

Yuji looked at his sensei Gojo, stunned. He had never heard his teacher speak like this before, as though the weight of being the strongest had finally worn him down. Gojo Satoru’s dream of escaping, of living a quiet life with the people he loved—it was so human.

So far removed from the man everyone saw as untouchable, undefeatable. But at this moment, Satoru wasn’t the strongest sorcerer in the world. He was just a man who wanted to protect the people he loved. A man who longed for something simple, something real.

“That’s my dream, my love and dreams.” Satoru whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I know it’s impossible. The world needs me too much.”

Yuji’s heart ached for him. He didn’t know what to say, so instead, he simply sat there, hoping that in his silence, his sensei could feel his support.

Satoru sighed, standing up and stretching as if to shake off the heaviness of their conversation. “Anyway, enough of that.” he said, flashing his usual grin. “Let’s focus on what’s in front of us.”

But even as he spoke, Yuji couldn’t shake the feeling that, deep down, Satoru Gojo longed for something far beyond his reach.

Yuji stared at Satoru, processing the weight of his sensei's words. It was hard to imagine Satoru Gojo, the invincible sorcerer who seemed so carefree, harboring such a vulnerable wish. A man who could crush enemies with ease, someone who always had the answers—yet, here he was, confessing a dream that would never come true.

“I never thought… you’d want something like that, Sensei.” Yuji admitted quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “I guess I never really thought about what you’d want outside of all this.”

Satoru glanced at him, a softer smile playing on his lips. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? When you’re as strong as I am, no one really thinks to ask what you want. They think you don’t need anything… or anyone.”

Yuji frowned, guilt washing over him. He hadn’t meant to think that way about Gojo Satoru, but it was true. He had always seen his teacher as larger than life, almost beyond human in his ability to control any situation, to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

"But... you have them, Sensei." Yuji said slowly, searching for the right words. "Your wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, and Satoshi… They need you, don't they? Maybe you can’t run away, but you still have something, sensei. A family. Isn't that enough?”

Satoru chuckled, but the sound was hollow, lacking its usual energy. He sat back down beside Yuji, his gaze once again distant. “You’d think that, right? But the stronger you are, the more people take from you. It’s like… I’m always on borrowed time. I’m always one fight away from leaving them behind too.”

Yuji swallowed hard. He’d never thought about Satoru’s life in that way. It was a sobering realization, that even someone as powerful as Gojo was constantly battling not just external threats but the fear of losing what little he had.

“I wish I could protect them from everything.” Satoru murmured. “Just take them somewhere far away… no more battles, no more cursed energy. Just… quiet. But no matter how strong I am, I can’t do that. I can’t just… leave the world to burn while we live in peace.”

He turned to Yuji then, his icy blue eyes piercing through the air. “You know, sometimes I think I was selfish for bringing them into my world. Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… my wife. They didn’t ask for this. I chose this life for them.”

“Sensei.” Yuji started, unsure of what to say. His heart ached for Satoru. “They love you. And… they wouldn’t want to live without you, either. Even if it’s dangerous.”

Satoru’s lips twitched upward in a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, I know. But love’s a tricky thing, Yuji. It’s not enough to stop the world from trying to tear us apart. It never has been.”

Yuji nodded, not fully understanding, but feeling the gravity of Satoru’s words. There was a silence between them, but it was heavy with the weight of shared thoughts, of unspoken dreams and impossible futures.

Satoru leaned back, his hands resting behind his head. “But hey, that’s just how it goes, right? No point in dwelling on things we can’t change.”

He looked at Yuji with a bright grin, but it felt like a mask—one Yuji was starting to see through more and more. “So, enough about me. What about you? What are your dreams, Yuji?”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “My dreams?”

Satoru nodded. “Yeah. You must have some. Or did you think I was the only one allowed to have them?”

Yuji scratched the back of his neck, thinking for a moment. “I guess… I don’t know. I never really thought that far ahead. I’ve been so focused on everything happening now, I never gave myself the chance.”

Satoru chuckled softly. “That’s the thing with us, sorcerers. We get so caught up in fighting for today, we forget to dream about tomorrow.”

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?”

Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead.

“I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live. Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

His voice trailed off, and Yuji could hear the longing in it. The truth was, Satoru Gojo might be the strongest sorcerer alive, but even he was bound by the same rules as everyone else. He couldn’t run from the world, couldn’t hide from the battles he had to fight.

But it didn’t stop him from dreaming.

Yuji looked at him with a new understanding, realizing that no matter how strong someone was, they still carried their own struggles, their own wishes and dreams. And sometimes, those dreams were just as fragile as anyone else's.

"Maybe one day, sensei." Yuji said softly, with an honest smile. "You won't have to fight anymore."

Satoru chuckled, opening one eye to glance at Yuji. "Maybe. But until then, we keep going."

And with that, the conversation ended, but the weight of it lingered between them—a reminder that even the strongest had dreams they longed to chase, even if those dreams were just out of reach.

YOU THINK YOU WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A LONG TIME. When you wait for your eyes to close with finality, the weight of the years presses down on you, a quiet fatigue settling into your bones. You’re tired—so tired—and when you open them again, you're met with the familiar sight of Fushiguro Megumi and Gojo Satoshi. Your two sons, waiting for you to go and leave them.

Megumi stands tall, his arms crossed as usual, but his gaze softens when he sees you. Satoshi, ever his opposite, smiles that wide, carefree grin of his. They both look at you, concern etched into their features.

"I'm exhausted." you tell them softly, the words slipping out like a confession you’ve been holding in for far too long.

“You can’t die yet, Mother......" Satoshi pipes up, his voice steady, but the cracks of fear were unmistakable. His usual bright demeanor falters, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he grips the hem of his shirt. His voice may be steady, but his eyes betray him—glossed with unshed tears, reflecting a grief he’s not ready to face. Not now. Not yet.

“You’re still too young!” There’s urgency in his words, a childlike plea echoing in his tone, though he’s long since grown past childhood. The way his shoulders hunch forward, the way his gaze darts between you and Megumi—he’s holding on. Clutching to hope as if his words could anchor you to this world a little longer.

Megumi stands beside him, more composed, but his silence carries a weight just as heavy. He nods, his expression solemn. “He’s right, Gen-san.” Megumi adds quietly.

His voice is low, restrained, as though he’s struggling to hold back everything he truly wants to say. His hands remain tucked in his pockets, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes—the eyes you’ve known for so many years—hold a flicker of something deeper. Desperation? Fear? Perhaps both.

"You’re only 48. You still have time left."

His words are careful, deliberate, each one carrying the weight of someone who’s had to shoulder too much responsibility, too much loss. The faint tremor in his voice betrays how much he’s already bracing himself for another wound, another absence he’ll have to carry.

You look at them both—Satoshi, who still clings to hope as though it could somehow rewrite fate, and Megumi, whose quiet strength has always shielded him from the full brunt of the pain—but not this time. They both stand there, torn between urging you to stay and accepting the inevitable.

But you smile at them, a soft, knowing smile that carries the weight of the years, the joy and the sorrow, the love and the loss. It's a smile that’s lived through the ache of life without Satoru, a smile that remembers every laugh, every argument, every stolen glance, and every moment that felt too brief.

“I know, I know......” you say, your voice gentle, steady. There’s a peace in your tone that they don’t yet understand, a quiet acceptance that fills the space between you. “But I’m ready. I’ve missed Satoru... for so long.”

And in that moment, as you say his name, the air feels lighter, as if the years of separation, the longing, the silent ache in your chest begins to unravel. You missed him—not just in fleeting moments or in passing thoughts, but in the depths of your soul. Every day, every night. The space he left behind has been a constant companion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again.

The tears in Satoshi’s eyes finally spill over, and Megumi’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tightening, but neither of them say anything. They understand, even if they don’t want to.

Because love—true, enduring love—is something that even death can’t diminish. And they know you loved Satoru with all that you were, and perhaps, even now, they understand that your heart has been waiting for him all along.

The weight in your chest lightens as you speak his name. Megumi frowns but doesn't say anything more, and Satoshi’s smile falters, understanding settling into their eyes.

You close your eyes once again, the world fading into a peaceful darkness. There's a brief moment of silence, a quiet passing, before a familiar voice echoes softly, teasingly:

“Did you miss me?”

Tears well up before you even open your eyes. You don’t need to see him to know it’s him. The voice, that unmistakable voice—playful, laced with all the love and mischief you’d missed for too long.

When your eyes flutter open, there he is—Satoru, standing before you, that brilliant smile lighting up his face. The tears fall freely now, but for the first time in years, they're not from

“Satoru......” you breathe, his name barely a whisper on your lips, as though speaking it aloud might break the fragile moment. Your voice catches in your throat, a mix of disbelief, relief, and the sorrow that’s lived inside you for far too long.

It’s a name you’ve spoken to the silence of empty rooms, whispered into the night when no one was there to hear, a name tied to a thousand memories you’ve held onto so tightly for all these years.

The tears that have welled up in your eyes begin to spill over, blurring the figure before you, but you don’t need to see him to know it’s him. You feel him—his presence, his warmth, the way his energy fills the space around you like it always did.

He steps closer, closing the distance between you in a way that feels like the erasure of all those agonizing years of separation. His familiar warmth envelops you, wrapping around you like an embrace you’ve longed for, like a homecoming after a journey that has lasted far too long.

The brush of his thumb against your cheek is achingly gentle, tender as he wipes away the tears that won’t stop falling. His touch, so familiar, yet so missed, sends a wave of emotions crashing over you—grief for the years you lost, joy for the moment you never thought you’d have again.

"You came back to me, finally." His voice is quieter now, the usual teasing that you had come to know so well is gone, replaced by something deeper—something raw and vulnerable, a depth of emotion he often hid beneath his bravado.

There’s relief in his words, but also a quiet sorrow, as if he too felt the weight of all the time you’d spent apart. As if he too had been waiting, missing you just as much as you had missed him.

His breath is warm against your skin, and you hear the slight tremor in his voice, that hint of fragility in the man who always seemed invincible to you. There’s a vulnerability in him now, standing before you, as though he’s afraid this moment might not be real. Afraid that if he holds you too tightly, you might slip away again.

His thumb continues to trace gentle patterns along your cheek, the rhythm of it soothing and familiar, grounding you in the reality that he’s truly here. And as he looks at you, his bright blue eyes softer now, there’s a depth to them that speaks to all the words left unsaid, to all the years spent in separation, to the weight of the grief he carried alone.

"I waited and waited, stalling some gods....." he continues, his voice just above a whisper now, the teasing facade stripped away, leaving only the rawness of his feelings. "I waited so long, and every day… I missed you."

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, heavy with the unspoken sorrow of time lost, of love interrupted by forces beyond your control. His hand, still cradling your face, trembles just slightly, as if even Satoru, with all his strength, couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again.

The weight of it all—of everything you endured, everything you lost—comes crashing down at once, and you let out a soft, broken sob. You feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, holding you close like he’s afraid to ever let go.

“I missed you too. So so much.” you whisper into his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. “I never stopped missing you, Satoru.”

You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep breath, his lips pressing softly against your forehead. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the sorrow that’s been living inside you begins to ease. It doesn’t disappear entirely—grief never really does—but here, in Satoru’s arms, it feels lighter. It feels like, maybe, you can finally rest.

And in that moment, you realize that the exhaustion, the waiting—it was all worth it. You're home.

epilogue

The afterlife wasn’t exactly what you expected. Instead of floating through clouds or endless fields of serenity, you found yourself at what looked like an airport terminal. Before you could process how bizarre this was, you spotted them—Kaiko and Namie, both waving like maniacs from the crowd.

“Finally!” Kaiko shouts, sprinting toward you with the grace of someone who has no concept of personal space. Namie follows, beaming brightly, and within seconds, they’re both squeezing the life out of you.

“Guys, air... I need air!” you gasp, but they only hug you tighter. Kaiko plants a kiss on your cheek, and Namie loops an arm around your waist like they’ve been waiting years for this reunion.

“We missed you so much, you know?” Kaiko pouts, ignoring your protests. “The afterlife just isn’t the same without you.”

“Excuse me.” You look over Kaiko’s shoulder to see Satoru, sunglasses slightly askew, his mouth pulled into a pout that could rival a spoiled child’s. “You’re hogging my wife.”

Kaiko smirks, not even turning to look at Satoru. “Your wife? Funny, because I’m pretty sure I was her first love.” She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly as if daring him to challenge the claim.

Satoru's eyes narrow behind his shades. “That was ages ago, you homewrecker! She married me—” he steps forward, pointing at the both of you— “not you.”

“Oh please,” Kaiko rolls her eyes. “I’ve known her longer. I laid the groundwork. I was and always will be the original concept!”

Satoru steps closer, his height towering over Kaiko but Kaiko isn’t fazed. “She chose me.”

“She settled for you, shitty eyes!” Kaiko quips, her grin widening. “There’s a difference.”

And that’s all it takes. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, and suddenly they’re in each other’s faces like squabbling children. You can barely get a word in before they start throwing insults—Kaiko jabbing at Satoru’s height, Satoru boasting about his undeniable charm.

“Guys, seriously?” You rub your temples, trying to hold back laughter. “This is ridiculous.”

Geto Suguru, ever the voice of reason (or at least the one who knows when to pick his battles), sidles up beside you with a casual smile. “Looks like some things never change.”

You grin at him, feeling a sense of ease that only Suguru can bring. “Tell me about it. Can’t believe I’m back and they’re already fighting over me.”

“Typical Satoru!” Suguru laughs. “He never could handle competition.” He offers you a knowing look, then gestures to the absurd scene in front of you. “Should we break it up?”

“Nah, let them tire themselves out.” you reply, waving a hand dismissively. “They’ll realize how stupid they’re being soon enough.”

As if on cue, Kaiko flicks Satoru in the forehead. “She loved my kisses first!”

“Oh, for—" Satoru huffs, about to lunge at Kaiko when you step in between them. “She loved mine more!”

“Oh shut up,your kisses are slimy and disgusting!”

“HUH!? You take that back!”

“Ugly frog! Bwah!”

“Alright, enough.” You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Satoru, Kaiko, stop acting like children. I’m here for everyone, okay?”

“Everyone except Kaiko.” Satoru mutters under his breath.

Suguru chuckles beside you, giving you a side glance. “Welcome back.”

You smile, patting his shoulder. “Good to be back. I see things haven’t changed much.”

As Kaiko and Satoru continue bickering like they’re back in high school, Suguru leans over, smirking. “Should we take bets on who wins this round?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m putting my money on Namie. She’s going to step in and drag both of them away soon enough.”

And, just like clockwork, Namie swoops in, grabbing Kaiko by the arm and tugging her toward the exit, muttering about “taking this fight outside.”

Satoru watches them go, arms crossed, still pouting. He looks at you, expectant, as if waiting for reassurance.

You chuckle, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest. “Relax, Satoru. You know you’re the one I chose.”

His pout softens into a grin, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Damn right.”

And with that, the chaos of the airport fades into the background, as you bask in the comfort of having your husband by your side—and of course, the endless entertainment of old rivals.

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bananadramaaa · 1 day

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Hellooo! Just would love to start this off by saying how cool your art is!!! I am in love with it! But anyways,

What's the age gaps/ages of Al and his sisters? And what's his relationship status with them (past, as in his child age)

Anyways, hope you have a lovely day! Remember to drink water 🫂

Hi! Thank you 🥺 Same to you~

I answered the question about siblings' age gap in this ask :3 As kids, they all got along well with each other. Of course, there were arguments, but no one could stay angry at each other for long.

Closest to Alastor of the siblings was his older sister Adelice. They only had a year and a half age difference and shared all responsibilities as older children. The middle sister Leonore tried to keep up with her older siblings and would follow them around like a little ducking. As the older sister often worked part-time, Alastor stayed with the younger ones, and Leonore felt a deep affection for her brother.

She tried to imitate him and unknowingly adopted some of his habits. Alastor wasn't very close with his younger sister Bertilda, but after the family split up, he was helping her and Leonore with money for some time since Leonore took their younger sister into her care.

#ask #human au #human alastor #family stuff #hazbin oc #myart

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goquokka00 · 1 day

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Hellooooo! Can I request bangchan x innocent!reader? Kind of like corruption kink, also, reader is a virgin. And can you pls pls pls add some overstimulation plss? Sending love 🩷🩷

Oh, definitely!!! Took me a bit to get actual good ideas and decide the flow and all that, but I think this one turned out really well. Hope it's what you were picturing 💗💗💗

Corruption

Summary: Chan was always aware of how innocent his step sister was. He was also aware of how good of a student she was, too. It always managed to feed into his imagination, and it didn't help that you were his ideal type. So imagine his surprise when he found the perfect blackmail to get his precious little sister to do whatever he wanted.

Pairing: Step Bro! Bangchan X Step Sis! Reader (F!)

Genre: Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Stepcest, Chan is manipulative, Reader is gullible, a little bit of bullying kinda? but they're step siblings so they're gonna pick on each other anyway, mentions of masturbation, nipple play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, p in v sex, unprotected penetrative sex (please wrap it before you tap it everyone), squirting, overstimulation, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)

Word Count: 5.3K

The first time Chan had ever met you was when his mom decided to have you and your dad over for dinner. At that point in time, your parents had been together for about a year and had finally deemed that it was time for you both to meet.

Now, Chan had been fully aware that his mom's boyfriend had a daughter. He knew that you were extremely kind and sweet, as his mom put it, and that you were a very good student. He had also found out that you were younger than him by about 6 years.

He was NOT warned about how beautiful you were. The second you had walked into his home, your crop top and very short shorts hugging your body in all of the right places, a sweatshirt tied around your waist as you took off your sandals and straightened your bangs out and tightened your ponytail...he already knew he was fucked.

You were the definition of his ideal type. A perky chest, curves, thick thighs...someone who was extremely kind and considerate, and wanted nothing more than to just help out where they could...god, you were perfect.

That night, during dinner, you paid attention to every detail him or his mom had said. What his interests were, what his mom liked in children, rules that they had in the household, and so much more. You took all of that information in and remembered it. Every question you were asked was answered with such...perfect answers.

How were your grades? All A's, with a few B's, but nothing too extreme.

What were you majoring in? No clue, you were just focusing on generals at a local community college until you figured out the career path you wanted to take.

What were some of your favorite hobbies? Writing, reading, drawing, sometimes even going on walks or going to the library to study on fascinating topics.

What chores did you usually do? Anything that had to be done, but you weren't a fan of doing the dishes because of the small bits of food that would touch your hand and scare the crap out of you.

You were like an angel from heaven. Even after dinner, when Chan and his mom were cleaning up, you offered to help dry dishes and tidy up a bit. It was unbelievable.

You were unbelievable.

Eventually, over the years, Chan got to know you better. And he got to understand that you were, in fact, innocent. You didn't know anything about sex, you didn't cuss, you went to church with your dad every Sunday at 9am, you've never done drugs or drank alcohol, and you had beliefs that prevented you from doing any wrong.

Upon finding this out, Chan realized something that stirred within him. He wanted to taint you. He wanted to corrupt you, make you the farthest thing from innocent. He fantasized about it, thinking up ideas on how he'd be able to get you to succumb to him. But he never acted on it.

But that feeling lingered. And it only got worse when your dad and his mom got married, which resulted in him and his mom moving in with you and your dad. Your house was bigger, anyway. It could easily fit the two of them.

But God, those feelings of wanting to corrupt you got so much worse. He was around you so much more often, seeing you do tasks so...seductively. And you weren't even trying to.

One time, the remote to the TV fell underneath the couch while you and him were watching an anime series. You had instantly got to the ground, got on all fours, and reached underneath the couch to grab the remote. And in the process, Chan got a whole view of your ass. Your perfect ass in those gym shorts, your pussy outlined just enough to give him ideas.

There was another time you had been doing laundry, and was just switching the loads around. Chan just happened to walk by when he saw you bent over in an oversized t-shirt, the only thing covering your cunt being your panties as you swapped loads.

What Chan wouldn't do to give you his.

It got to the point where Chan couldn't help but steal your panties when it was his turn to do the laundry and jerk off with it. It felt like the only way he'd ever get to even have you. Breathing in what your pussy could smell like, maybe even putting your panties in his mouth to try and get a taste...

It was getting bad. Chan knew he'd have to do something at this point. He had to get you, he had to have you. But how? You were perfect, you did no wrong. And you would NEVER just...do it because he wanted it.

Well, luckily for Chan, an opportunity presented itself.

See, you were in college. Both of you were, which was why both of you still lived at home. Better than the dorms, much better.

Because you were in college, you had to take a very important test for your major, known as the Literary Composition Exam, or the LCE. You had spent weeks studying for this test. You'd spend hours locked up in your room, going over every little bit of material that was available to you, doing whatever it took to make absolute certain that you passed.

Except...you didn't.

For whatever reason, when you went to take the exam, the material wasn't the same as the stuff you had studied. And so, while some of it was the same, you did your best to answer everything correctly.

But when you received the test today, you had seen that you had failed it. Miserably. Your heart sank, even as you took it out of your backpack once you got home. How were you supposed to tell your parents? You...you couldn't. You refused to share that with them.

You gently placed the test face down on your desk, putting a few papers over it before going to the bathroom. Maybe...maybe a warm shower would help melt that stress away.

But as you were taking a shower, Chan had gone into your room. It was his turn to do the laundry this week and was going and collecting all of the dirty clothing from each room. Your room was the last Chan had to go to, and then he could get all of the loads started.

But as he went to your closet, he noticed a paper underneath some others. It looked like all marked up, and he couldn't help but be curious. Weren't you supposed to get your results back for your LCE today?

Chan took that moment, reaching for the paper and sliding it out from under the others. Instantly, his eyes widened. This...this was your test. This was the test that you had spent weeks studying for, and you...you failed it. Chan couldn't believe his eyes as he grazed over all of the pen marks.

You, the perfect, most innocent daughter in your parents' eyes, had failed one of the most important tests that you'd ever have to take in your college career.

It was remarkable. Chan couldn't take his eyes off of it, looking at each question you had gotten wrong. There were so many...you usually aced every test that you ever took...EVER. Seeing how much you had gotten wrong was just insane.

And that...was when you walked back into your room.

You had changed into a sweatshirt and some gym shorts, your hair dried and in a ponytail. You had your dirty clothes in your hands, and had just wanted to lay down. But instead, you were met with the sight of Chan in your room, your failed LCE in his hands. Immediately, your heart dropped.

"Chan, what are you doing in my room?!" You were frantic, throwing your clothes to the side as you tried to reach for your test. But just before you could reach it, Chan held it out of your reach, raising a brow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I just wanted to look your test over. It's pretty interesting." Chan spoke. He went back to it, flipping through the endless pages. "It's not every day I get to see that you managed to fail anything, let alone one of the most important tests in your entire college career."

"Chan!"

"What, I'm just saying." Chan shrugged, continuing to keep your test away from you. You weren't amused, going to him and reaching for it, practically climbing onto his body to try and get the test from him.

"This isn't funny, give that test back!"

"No way, this is legendary."

"Chan, seriously!"

"I'm being serious! I already said I want to look at it, why are you so desperate to get...it...back...oh my god." Suddenly, Chan realized something. It was why you were so desperate to get that test back. "You haven't told mom and dad yet."

"No, and I really don't want to." God, just the idea of your parents finding out that you had completely bombed the single most important test in your entire college career made you sick to your stomach. But Chan? Oh, this gave him leverage. Something to hang over your head, to potentially use against you.

It couldn't be more perfect.

"You're not going to tell them? Really?" Chan raised a brow, looking back to the test. It was only for a moment, before he looked back at you, a smirk on his face. "Then I guess I'll have to break the news to them-"

"NO!" It was one thing for you to have to tell your parents, but if Chan told them first...? Oh, it'd be hell on earth.

"Well, they can't not know, Y/n."

"Yes, they can! There's a retake next month, and I'll be extra sure to pass this time, just...they can't know!"

"I don't know...keeping things from our parents is so...wrong, don't you think?" Chan then turned, starting to go towards the door. "I'm going to go and show them this. Keeping secrets is bad."

"Chan, please no!" Like that, you were wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him there in an attempt to keep him from leaving your room. He couldn't leave, or he'd tell. "Please...I-I'll do anything."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You really shouldn't have said that.

Chan slowly turned, not believing his ears. For a moment, his dick twitched, slowly starting to betray him as he looked at you, your eyes shining and begging him to stay and not go. To not tell your parents. Was this finally it? Was he getting the chance he had craved for so long?

"...anything?"

"Anything." You confirmed it, right then and there. You were really willing to do anything in order to keep Chan from blabbing to your parents. This was it. This was finally what Chan had craved for forever.

And he couldn't wait.

"Well then, I guess we can figure something out, can't we?" Chan said, handing you your test. You quickly took it back, moving to hide it once more. And you were going to hide it even better than you had. "I'll keep my mouth shut up until you've retaken the test and pass. But you have to do something for me, too."

"Okay, and that is...?" You asked, turning around. You weren't sure what Chan had up his sleeve, but you had said you'd do anything to keep the horrible grades a secret. You always kept your promises too, which Chan was very aware of. And so, he'd have to be careful about how he went about this.

"See, I was asked by a friend to do some research on how to best please a girl." God, he sounded so stupid. He sounded completely and utterly stupid. "And while porn exists and yada yada yada, I want to make sure that all of the techniques actually work. And since you said you'd do anything to keep this whole test thing a secret, I was thinking you could help me out. A favor for a favor."

Please work, please work, please work, please work, please work, please-

"Um, well I guess when you put it that way...I wouldn't mind, I suppose..." You bought it. Holy fucking shit, you bought it. Chan couldn't even believe his ears. "But I've never really...done anything like it before, so I don't have a preference."

"Oh, well...that's okay. I was thinking that maybe we could give some stuff a shot. Y'know, field test a bit." Keep squeezing the orange, Chan. He was so close; he was practically salivating at this point. "Obviously if you get uncomfortable, we can stop, but I just really want to help out my friend, you know? And you would really help me out in return."

Well, if that was the case, then you could understand why Chan wanted your help so bad. You were like a fly caught in his web at this point. He was simply asking for your help, and you trusted him.

"I mean, if it'll help out, then I guess I don't see the problem in it." Bingo. Chan couldn't believe that had actually worked. He thought you would've called him gross, that step siblings shouldn't do that kind of stuff. Part of him wanted to question you, figure out if you were serious or not. But it was only a small one.

He worked hard for this. He wasn't just about to give it up.

"Alright, then do you think you could clear up some time tonight? That way we can have plenty of time." Reality? Your parents were both leaving to be out of town around 5pm. They wouldn't be back until a few days later.

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." God, just how gullible were you? Gullible enough to make Chan's cock throb, it seemed.

All he had to do was wait.

It took about 3 whole hours for your parents to actually leave. And while they only left thirty minutes behind schedule, it felt like hell on earth for Chan. He wanted nothing more than to get into your panties, play with you for hours and make you writhe and squirm and cry.

Chan wanted to make absolutely certain that they wouldn't be in the house, though. If your parents found out about this, he'd be in a whole world of trouble. Both of you would be.

And so, he waited a whole extra hour, watching the Life360 that your parents had forced you both onto, making sure they were far enough away to where he knew they weren't going to turn around. And once he was sure, he walked to your room and knocked on the door, stepping inside.

"Hey, you got some free time?" Chan walked inside, seeing you laying on your bed. You were only in an oversized shirt, thigh high socks, and panties, scrolling through your phone. God, just the outline of your cunt got Chan riled all over again.

"Yeah, what's up?" You asked, turning. You were so adorable, it hurt. Chan stepped inside more, gently shutting the door before walking over to you, before sitting on your bed.

"I was wondering if we could start trying stuff out. Figure out what pleases you best." Chan said, watching your face light up as you remembered what he was talking about.

"Oh, okay. Sure." You said, moving to sit up. Chan smiled, moving a bit so you'd have some room. "What exactly are we starting with?"

"Well, I wanted to start with playing around with your breasts a bit. I've heard that feels nice." Chan said, his hands fidgeting with themselves. They wanted to be on your body so badly. Finally touch something that was so pure.

"Okay." The second you gave him permission, Chan's hands were on you. He started by cupping the flesh through the shirt, gently massaging them as he watched you closely. Your breathing had hitched, your eyes watching what he was doing. But it was when he looked back down that his blood ran down to his cock.

"You...you aren't wearing a bra...?" Chan couldn't believe his eyes. Your nipples were perked, practically poking themselves through the shirt you had on.

"Well, yeah. Bras aren't that comfortable, so..." You just shrugged, before gasping as Chan brushed over them. He moved his thumbs back and forth against them, moving to pinch them gently. That got a whine out of you, and it was such a beautiful sound.

"Jesus...that feels nice?" Chan asked, watching you nod. That was good, and to him, an indication to go further. He carefully moved your shirt up, taking it off to see your bare chest in all of it's glory.

It was gorgeous. Nipples perky and stiff, your flesh round and supple. It was everything Chan could've wanted plus more. And when he touched your skin, it was so soft... it was soft and delicate and so perfect.

Every time his fingers flicked, pinched or messed with your nipples, you'd whine and squirm a bit, the sight always going straight to his dick. He was so hard, he wanted nothing more than to just flip you over and fuck you right then and there. But he wanted to take his time, too.

And that's what he did.

He moved his head down, eventually taking one of your breasts into his mouth, using his tongue to flick against your nipple and sucking on your skin. The feeling of it caused you to moan, arching your back into him more.

"Ch-Chan..." Oh, you moaning his name made him want to scream. He was so hard, you were so perfect, everything about this situation was perfect.

He eventually pulled off, looking up at you as he continued to mess around with your chest, giving you a cheeky smile. He knew what he was doing felt good.

"Good?"

"M-Mhm..."

"Mhm?" Chan couldn't help but laugh a bit, finding your reaction adorable. But he wanted to take things further. Just a little bit. "Can we go further? Want me to make you feel even better?"

"Ye...Yeah...Yes..."

"Alright...go ahead and lay down then."

As you laid down, Chan was finally able to see your panties for the first time. They were pink with white paw prints, a tiny little white bow on the front. They were so cute on you, practically signaling how innocent you truly were. And when Chan got himself between your legs, spreading your legs apart, he noticed the wet patch laying right over your cunt.

"Look at that...already so wet, and it's all for me..." Chan licked his lips, taking a hand off of your leg to your clothed pussy. Slowly, agonizingly so, he placed his pointer right where your clit should be, bringing it down to your hole. It was feather light, and it caused you to whine and squirm. "That feel nice? I bet it does, you're getting wetter by the second."

He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. That wet spot got bigger the more he spoke, the more he barely touched you. It was agonizing, yeah, but god, it was amazing, too.

Chan admired it for a moment. One of the many panties he'd steal were right here on your body, forming one of the largest wet patches he'd ever seen in his life. It was wrong. But god, did he not care. He didn't care in the slightest.

He eventually leaned his head down, pressing a kiss right onto your mound, breathing in your smell. Musky, but so so sweet. And once that was committed to memory, he figured it was time to get rid of the panties and see the real thing.

"Let's get these off of you, huh?" Chan's hands moved as he spoke, hooking around your panties and bringing them down your body, his eyes not leaving yours once until the panties were completely off. And the second he saw you, his everything stopped. His brain, his heart...the only thing that was working was his dick, and that thing was throbbing.

You were beautiful. It was the cutest little pussy Chan had ever seen in his life, glistening wet. And when he spread your folds open, he was met with a pink that rivaled the panties you had on. Not to mention how your hole was clenching, and your clit was peeking out from under it's hood.

"God...you're so fucking beautiful." Chan couldn't even take his eyes off of you. He took his finger again, gently touching the pink muscle, touching your clit and pulling it back to get a better look. It made you squirm, your hole clenching. "You have such a pretty pussy...and to think it's on my step sister..."

All you did was whine, not really knowing what to say. The touch felt nice, but his words were nicer. You'd never heard him talk like that before. And the pit that grew in your stomach when you heard it was beyond amazing.

Chan took a moment to continue just touching you, watching how you'd react to certain touches, where you liked to be touched. But he knew he could do more. He could do so much more.

And so, keeping his eyes on you, he lowered his head and gently flicked your clit once, watching as your breath hitched, your hips flinch a bit.

"That feel good?" Chan asked. He already knew the answer, and it was only further confirmed by you nodding.

With that nod, he went back down, using his tongue to give one long lick up your folds, before flicking your clit and coaxing it out of it's hood, gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. That got a nice, loud moan out of you.

"Oh my...god, Chan...!" Oh, the way you said his name in such a vulnerable way...it was absolutely delicious. It made Chan groan, his hips bucking into the bed.

His pattern was immaculate. He'd suck on your clit, using his tongue to tease it in the meantime while his hands went to spread your cunt apart. He wanted to make sure that you were nice and vulnerable so he could really get in there. And oh, the moans you rewarded him with. They were absolutely perfect.

Your taste was even better. Salty, sweet, just a tiny bit of tang but not too much...It made him realize more and more just how much he craved you, how much he just wanted to ruin you into nothing.

Eventually, he went further, diving his tongue into your hole to really scrape out your juices, his nose consistently bumping into your clit. And it made you cry out, your legs wanting to close, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. But Chan didn't let you. He gave your cunt one last lick before moving his hands to keep you spread once more, before looking up at you, licking his lips.

"Keep yourself spread, okay? I want you nice and wide so I can taste all of you." Chan spoke. You couldn't help but nod, feeling the need to comment.

"I...It feels really good, by the way. Whatever you're doing it...it feels really, really good."

"Does it?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah?" Oh, the smile on Chan's face when you said that. You probably gave him that input so he knew this was good for his friend to know. But he wasn't here for that. No no no. He was here simply to get you to cum over, and over, until you couldn't take anymore.

He eventually dove back in, plunging his tongue into you while his arms and hands kept you nice and spread, not wanting you to squirm around too much. And he kept going, even as you began to buck your hips, trying to squirm and get away.

"Chan, I...I feel weird..." You could feel the coil in your gut, a form of tightness as you neared closer and closer. Chan could feel it too, as your legs were really starting to shake.

"It's okay, you're just gonna hit an orgasm soon." Chan's voice was muffled, due to his face being buried in your delicate cunt, which was dripping more and more of it's juices into his mouth. "Get there though, go ahead and just release it, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You could, and you did. You moaned out, your hips bucking as Chan practically latched himself onto you. He continued to work you through your orgasm, watching as you panted and shook, the orgasm washing right through you.

"There you go, good girl..." Once you had calmed down, Chan debated on moving on. He could let you experience his cock, which had been painfully throbbing to get into the pussy it's been wanting for so long. Or he could simply keep going with this.

That's what he did.

The second you stopped squirming, he latched right back onto your clit, making your squirm from the oversensitivity, feeling something new. Something different. You couldn't look down, as your back was arched and your head was thrown back, in nothing but pure ecstasy, but the second you felt something inside of you, you gasped, before getting louder.

You didn't know what it was, as Chan's head hadn't moved at all. But Chan knew. He had slipped a finger inside of you, and he groaned once he felt just how tight you were. He knew you were going to be tight, but he didn't expect what he had felt.

"God, you're so tight...how are you ever supposed to fit any cock in there, huh?" Chan pulled back, watching as you took his finger, Chan adding another one to watch you really grip it. "You're practically sucking in my fingers...does it feel that good? Are you that needy?"

All you could do was moan as Chan plunged his fingers deep into you, eventually curling them up and rubbing that gummy spot. It only took two small movements with his hands for you to cum again, your body shaking once more as your back arched again.

"Oh, you're so pretty when you cum like that, sis...look at you, squirming around for me and everything..." Chan couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't put himself inside of you, Chan would go insane.

And so, he pulled himself back, moving to get his cock out of his pants. The poor thing was red tipped, angry. It was harder than Chan had ever seen himself. But it didn't stop him from lining himself up with your entrance. Hell, it encouraged him to do so.

"You're being so good, letting me figure out what feels best for a girl. You're such an amazing little sister, helping me out with this, all because you don't want our parents to know about some silly little test grades..." As Chan spoke, he rubbed his tip against your cunt, coating himself with your juices as you whined and squirmed, the pleasure already too much for you.

But then, Chan pushed in. And both of you moaned out. For you, it was the stretch. He felt amazing when he went inside and stretched you out. And him? You were so tight, practically hugging his cock inside of you, gripping onto him for dear life.

"Jesus christ, you're like a fucking vice, squeezing me like that..." Chan eventually began to move, thrusting in and out. He was slow at first, knowing that this was your first time, and that you hadn't taken dick before.

But from the way you were moaning, he could tell you liked it. And so he sped up. He moved quicker, harsher. And you couldn't help but moan, feeling him move so quickly nonstop, not taking any breaks to catch his breath. All you could do was cry out, feeling him practically pound into you.

It was when Chan lifted up your leg when you felt him reach that gummy spot again, hitting it every single time without fail. And that got you to cum for the third time.

"C-CHAN!"

Your body shook as Chan stopped, quickly spitting on his hand to go and rub tight circles on your clit to help you through the orgasm, watching as your body shook and writhed from the pleasure. But this time, he didn't wait for you to calm down. No, after a few seconds, he started up again, grunting as he felt your walls flutter around him while he moved.

"God, you feel so good around me, squeezing me while you're cumming...my dick is just that good, huh? Does that feel good?" Chan asked, continuing to harshly thrust as he rubbed tight circles around your clit.

You simply whimpered, your hips bucking with every movement. It's like you couldn't control yourself anymore. Everything Chan was doing was incredible. You didn't know how, or why, but...it was amazing. It was overloading your brain. You felt so good, too good.

And before you even knew it, the fourth orgasm hit. And it hit hard.

At this point, you were so wet from all of the other orgasms and Chan's saliva that Chan slipped out, accidentally pulling out too much as your body trembled. And that was when it happened. You felt a new sensation, almost like a liquid was shooting out of you, and onto wherever it was landing.

You don't know, you couldn't think. But Chan knew, because it landed on him. Just seeing that made him groan as he stroked himself.

"Mm, you just squirted everywhere....making a fucking mess because my dick is just that good, yeah?" Once you had stopped, Chan was back inside of you, almost relentless at this point.

He just couldn't handle it. Seeing you squirt on him, on his cock, something that was so wrong and foul...it made him feral. He just couldn't believe it. He was surprised he didn't just cum from watching you do that.

But you...oh, you were so overwhelmed. So overstimulated. Everything felt way too good, and you were completely lost within the pleasure to even know what was happening. It was way too much, and your body was well aware of that.

"S'too much, I can't....! I can't, Chan, I...too much...!" It's all you were chanting at this point.

But Chan...he was finally getting the fantasy he had thought up for so long. Finally, you were here underneath him, absolutely wrecked and overstimulated, tears going down your cheeks from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was bringing you.

"Give me one more...just one more, sis...please? You can do one more, I'll even go with you this time...please, just one more." At this point, he was getting desperate, too. But all you could do was shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure coursing into your body.

"I can't-"

"You can, I promise...I know you can, just one more..."

Before he even knew it, you came for the last time, screaming out his name from the sheer bliss. And this time, your walls fluttering around him was what did him in. He just groaned loudly as he filled you, still pumping into you as he rode both of your highs out.

Once he had come down from his high, he simply pulled out, flopping down next to you, pulling your shaking form next to him, both of you breathing heavily. Nothing was said, and nothing had to be said.

All that was known was that this definitely wouldn't be the first time this would end up happening.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

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leonw4nter · 3 days

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Magnolia

[RE2!Leon x GN!Reader]

"After several successful nights of studying hard, your doting boyfriend has nothing but words of praise for your efforts <3" [fluff]

wc - 449

After finishing up on checking your practice sets, you hold your paper up in satisfaction. 35/35, a perfect score, a hard-earned perfect mark from all the nights and hours spent doing active recall and solving practice questions. You grin to yourself, feeling confident and prepared for a long test, proud of the fact that you managed to effectively study. You set it back down, slipping your reviewers and other study material back into its designated L-shape folder to place it inside your backpack. Your boyfriend and study buddy Leon reclines in his seat and stretches his arms above his head, his wrinkled white tee’s hem riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of pale skin.

“Congrats,” he softly says as his words melt into a yawn. “I’m very proud of you. That score wasn’t so easy to get, y’know.”

You preen on his words, chuckling softly as you zip your bag closed. “Yep but I managed to make it happen, thanks to your amazing guidance. Thank you.”

Your boyfriend pushes his glasses back up into his nose bridge before raking a hand through his cornsilk-tousled hair. “Hey, it’s all you. I was just here for moral support.”

He helps with organizing your desk, neatening it up as he stashed away other papers, pens, and blocks of multi-colored sticky notes. He offers to wash the mug you used and to throw away the scrap papers you used, ushering you to settle in bed first. In under 6 minutes, he’s cuddling with you underneath the sheets in your bed. You’re facing him, head cushioned by his arm as your own arm is slumped over his torso. You’re growing drowsy, but you don’t want to fall asleep just yet. Leon’s making it hard to stay awake, his free hand gently stroking and patting your head as he murmurs delicate praises.

“My intelligent, hard-working, incredible sweetheart.”

“I know you’re going to absolutely smash that test, you have enough preparation and the drive to succeed.”

“I love, love, love, love, love you. You’re a rockstar, you managed to stay positive and handled the pressure like a pro. You’re so strong for that.”

“You don’t know how inspiring you are, baby. You’re a champ and this will all be worth it, I promise you.”

You lose track of all his other words, falling asleep. He smiles to himself when he feels your breathing slow down, relaxing at his side as he places a silvery kiss to your head. His hand moves to rest on your shoulder blade, a comforting warm weight as you sleep. With a whispered ‘good night’, sleep tiptoes in and his body softens as he gives in to the soothing pull of slumber.

NOTE - Wrote up a short n sweet drabble as a writing exercise since I haven't written in a hot minute! This one's a little different because my usual works are 1-2K words but this one is just 400+ words so yk, trying something new here ;) I'll be gone for a bit since I have exams coming up and more projects after that, I'm going to miss writing for a bit but I'll try to find windows where I'm not really busy so I can write a lil smn smn like this :) This drabble is inspired by an irl experience-- the studying part, not the Leon as my boyfriend one (unfortunately-- I'm chronically bitchless). I came up with this idea after I imagined Leon hyping me up and being lovely after an intense study sesh :3 umm so while I was gone, I got a new iPad like 3 days ago :D I can play RE4 now :D!!! anyway, thanks for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333333 UUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The animated line dividers are made by cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 2 #re2r #re2 remake

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cyberbabyangell · 3 days

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₊˚⊹☆after becoming a shifter...

hello! its been a while because school started, also because i had no idea what to post while i wrote about the innerspace..i was bombarded with 99+ likes and reposts so THANK YOU SO MUCH?? 😭 so did that happen on tiktok- i had 110 followers when i last checked, its been a month im at 300 😨 anyway i love u guys mwah 🫶

I legit forgot the concept of OCs 😭 like whenever i """create other people""" it's always people i know/ill script in one of my many drs, when i see people create someone i'm like "..OHR IGHT THIS IS YOUR CHARACTER AND NOT SOMEONE YOU KNOW IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE......."

I get so confused at the "life is short, YOLO" philosophies and it genuinely doesn't sit right with me anymore 😭

my brain somehow decided to put "shifter" as the default setting for every human my age i meet. "yeah i do that in my drs!" "in your WHAT." ".. sorry 😊"

i lost interest in media i know im NOT going to shift to 😭 like its a bit annoying but to me new media=new drs, and i dont willingly watch stuff i know im not shifting to which is so dumb.

self insert EVERYWHERE. im rarely the main character like in most my drs im less powerful than them, but i always see myself as this perfect being everyone loves and does everything right. kinda like the lucky girl in deadpool 2

whenever i see pretty people in the streets or meet nice people, im like "you're becoming my friend in my dr." so i may have 453455 friends that come from here that ive seen ONCE and probably even forgot about.

i kinda stopped asking questions to myself because in my waiting room rn i have a library with the answers to everything so.

i like dilemmas from my drs but i know they don't really matter because i'll go to a reality that has the perfect middle ground or a perfect 3rd option, even if its something that's currently beyond my comprehension

i like reminding myself im literally everything. like also objects cause its funny

whenever i see someone i admire or i like what they do i snatch it from them. "omg i like these songs!" and boom i sung those in my dr. "omg i love this content!" and boom i pioneered it.

i'm trying to get used to not be in 2024. theres not a single dr i shift to in 2024, and if i get caught lacking i might go on an fbi watchlist. like NOBODY can catch me saying rizz or singing songs that haven't been released yet. (also side note. IT SOUNDS SO TORTUROUS TO NOT BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO 80% OF MY CURRENT PLAYLIST CAUSE IT HASNT RELEASED YET. i be humming doing it first in 2020 😾)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

#reality shifting #shifters #shiftinconsciousness #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #shifting community #shifting diary #shifting motivation #shiftblr #desired reality shifting #shifting methods #shifting consciousness #shifting script #desired self #drself #desired life #desired reality

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pestopi · 23 hours

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hii! i absolutely ADORE you stuff sosososo much!

could you draw some starscream and soundwave? not like… ship art, but yeah i love them sososo much and it would be amazing if you could do that! if you dont want to, thats okay!

also, why do you like jazz? just a genuine question, i think hes cool and i wanna know more about him if youve got stuff to say ANYWAYS THANK YOU!! <33

sorry this is very sketchy, im getting used to a new program!

thank you so much, this is so kind I’m so happy 🥹❤️❤️!! I like jazz a lot because I think he’s just very fun in general, also I just love music centered characters. his loud and friendly personality while still being able to handle situations skillfully makes me very interested. There’s no huge reason, but he’s very charming.

thank you for requesting! Here’s your doodles 💗

#transformers #maccadam #soundwave #starscream #fanart

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yujateaandpi · 18 hours

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Hihi!! Just wanted to say off the bat that I just LOVE your art and the 30 more years au, it's one of the first I was exposed to on tt because I'm a new fan, anyway here's my questions (Sorry that I'm probably gonna say/ask a lot 😅)

Mabel is in shock for now, right? So will she eventually come to accept Dipper/"That person" being Dipper? And if so, would she see him more as an older brother instead of her twin? As in like, coming to accept him, but unable to have the exact "twin bond?" Because while the energy may be there, I'd assume that there could've been a bit of disconnect whether from life or whatever else happened (Like Mabel doing adventuring with a continuous "kid body and mindset," then Dipper with school)

Will Ford eventually visit Stan with Dipper and/or Mabel? Or with just anyone else? Or go on his own to visit his brother?

Is Fiddleford going to be involved in the Au in any way/important way?

Also this may be an invasive question (as in revealing lore or something I'm not quite sure how to phrase it) but will/is Stan resentful towards Ford in any way? Or is he just in the state of reminiscence or desperation for his brother-

It was also insinuated he may flip out if he saw him again by Dipper but is it just from the generally traumatic events like the initial portal one and then the same happening to Mabel? Or would it be from a mental condition that appeared over time? (We need more really old man Stan but dude I don't want him to go insane 😔😔😔)

Okay thats it, take things at your own pace and keep creating :DD it's such a cool take and all and your art is just really good, like I initially said. But yeah that's it dnfnfnnf

Whoa thank you for all the lovely questions!

Mabel is definitely in shock now, yes. That will get processed eventually. A lot of this story will actually be about her and Dipper trying to figure out that second part--are they still twins or older and younger siblings or if he even became more of an uncle than a brother? All I can say for now is: they've both got a lot of growing up to do.

Yup, actually Chapter 3 is all about Stan. The Reunion is a big chunk of that.

Fiddleford does play a big role, but a lot of it is resolved in the prequel fic. In the timeline of the comic, he's playing his banjo with the angels.

Stan's internal processing is a big part of Chapter 3 and some of it will also be discussed in the prequel! Sorry, spoilers for now. :)

Haha thank you, I'll keep trundling! Thank you for reading.

#yujateaasks #thirtymoreyearsau #gravity falls

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bcacstuff · 1 day

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Hi bcac ! I was wondering if you had any idea or guess as to how much Sam and Catriona have made in salary for their work in Outlander. Honest question as I have no idea. Thank you for your blog- I love coming here and learning about things although on a personal level have become disappointed in Sam. You have such interesting posts and just wanted to say thank you!

Thank you for the compliments, nice to hear you enjoy my blog and find my posts interesting. I think more started feeling kinda disappointed in him, but then again, he's just a human being with his good things and his flaws as well. He's not anybody's book bf and many fans have put him on a somewhat unrealistic pedestal perhaps.

For your question about their earnings for the work on OL. It's not an easy question to answer, there are only guesses as I'm sure nobody but the persons involved are aware of what's in their contracts.

If you google a question like 'how much earns SH per episode' you will learn that there are many figures floating around. From one reporting $1 million per episode (which seems very unrealistic to me) to another reporting a $100.000 per episode. The latter one is probably more realistic, though that was reported in 2019. I'm sure it has been renegotiated over the years, with less salary per episode at the start and probably more since the last seasons as they have been EP's as well. (and as we know Catriona directing an episode in the final season as well).

That said it's not that easy to do the math, take an average and multiply by 101 episodes, as I think other things should be taken into account as well. Like earnings for photoshoots, cons, interviews etc.

What I can tell is what the public figures are for Sam's private company Cairn Mor Creative LTD, which he incorporated in 2015 for his earnings as an actor. Financial data are stored and public for anyone to see. Though one have to take into account that this isn't solely for his work on Outlander, but for the movies and tv series he worked on as well.

Anyway those figures show a net assets of £87.625 in 2016 to a £5.5M at the latest filing of the total accounts. (March 2023)

in another diagram you see the growth from 2019 - 2023

(*the drop in 2021/2022 is mostly due to Covid)

So it's not only his earnings on OL but other work as well. His earnings for projects like his booze business are not included in this company, as they are part of GGC (for which there are no public financial records as far as I know)

I don't have any knowledge for Catriona owning a similar company dedicated to her work as actress. But it's said they always negotiated equal payment for their work on OL.

Anyway while it isn't exactly what you asked for (we can only make a more or less educated guesses to that), I hope this will give you at least some idea.

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kumkaniudaku · 3 hours

Text

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?"

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start."

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son.

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart.

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway.

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day."

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath.

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her."

"Being a man is about more than what you can do."

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options."

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy."

"And you too."

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food. "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass.

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to."

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her."

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?"

"Ah, Pop, I don-"

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called."

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life.

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat.

"What's this?"

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop."

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?"

"Pop."

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?"

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?"

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?"

"How would I know, though? How did you know?"

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years.

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…"

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state.

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?"

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know."

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love.

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat.

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality. She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor.

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women.

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive."

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice.

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door.

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life.

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you."

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar.

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest.

"We kissing in front of the parents now?"

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed.

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect."

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts.

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?"

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone.

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention.

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you."

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house.

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised."

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine.

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine.

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side.

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name.

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice.

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck.

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin.

"Already? It's not that late, is it?"

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up."

"I'll speak up. I promise."

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait.

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ. Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie."

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week.

"What's this?"

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use."

"When's the last time you used it?"

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?"

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall."

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity,

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm.

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind.

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well.

Desire.

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality.

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now.

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest.

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next.

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts.

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying.

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience.

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back.

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered.

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth.

"You trust me?"

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg.

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me."

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center.

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck.

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl.

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it."

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me."

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear.

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?"

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria.

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?"

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right."

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure.

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking.

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?"

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed.

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move."

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch.

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life.

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste.

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits.

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for.

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds.

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices.

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host.

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home.

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him.

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max.

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable.

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!"

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission.

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere.

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down.

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams.

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence.

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown.

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder.

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud.

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses.

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?"

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due.

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy."

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?"

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?"

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up."

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady.

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs.

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey."

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more."

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill.

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there."

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her.

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build.

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride

You check your mail?

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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luimagines · 2 days

Note

Ok hear me out I just thought of something.

We’re all familiar with the swan princess, right? If not, look it up it’s awesome. I love any and all iterations of that story.

ANYWAY!!!!!!! We all like a little romance in the fandom right? So lemme explain this thought I just had… a swan princess-ish type of LU story?

Basically, what if the Chain find a bird (you can pick any bird you want but I recommend a crow.) being injured by a small group of monsters. The Chain save the crow and heal its wounds before going about their business.

The crow then starts to follow them. It’s a little awkward at first but the crow eventually becomes like another member of their group like Epona and Wolfie (if this is pre Wolfie reveal. I’m not picky so anyone can say yes or no on that.) the crow helps them scout and navigate new areas, warns them of threats in the distance, and even brings them trinkets from time to time.

Anyway, one day after the Chain settle down for the evening they noticed the crow is on edge like its nervous… the Chain are wary because normally that means danger is around. But what actually happens boggles their minds. Once the sun has completely set and darkness falls upon the land… the crow turns into a girl (or whatever gender you want. I’m personally gonna go with a girl) who immediately is hiding in the bushes and asking to borrow a cloak. (Not everyone has magical clothes when they transform lol)

Turns out, the crow is actually a girl who was cursed! An evil warlock cursed her to forever be a crow except on the nights of a perfectly crescent, half, and full moon. When she can return to her human (or Hylian. Take your pick.) form. Basically, the warlock loved her beauty (or handsomeness.) and asked her hand in marriage three times. On the nights of a perfectly crescent, half, and full moon. She refused all three times. As revenge, he cursed her to take the form of a crow, a bird which was unanimously hated for being associated with evil. As far as she’s aware, she has to accept to warlock’s ‘love’ and marry him for the curse to break.

When questioned on her reasons for sticking around and helping them out, she simply told them that they saved her life. Anyone else would have left her to die… or finished the job themselves. She was grateful and wanted to repay the favor. Of course, she also wanted to see if the journey they were on could help her find another way to break her curse, but that was just a bonus. She really did want to repay the favor of helping her. She’s been through so much as a crow… like I said, they’re associated with evil so people aren’t the kindest towards them.

Obviously there’s another way to break the curse, but only the warlock knows that. I haven’t EXACTLY thought of the details, because I don’t wanna copy Swan Princess too much… but finding true love is the basics.

Alright lovelies, that’s as far as the idea has run. Plz feel free to take this idea and run with it! Pick your favorite boy and let your imagination run wild! Or commission our wonderful Pinky here (yes I’m advertising for you. Accept it!) to continue this little idea for you.

As for you, Pinky, plz give feedback! Love your content so much! Have a great day!

You know, I've actually never seen or heard the story of the Swan Princess. So if I do get commissioned for it, I guess I have some research to do. XD

I thought it was going to go the route of Kiri from CR Campaign 2, but I was delightfully surprised by the change! OR! Maybe I can twist them both together to avoid ripping off the Swan Princess as a whole.

I think this is a stellar idea. I like it! So cute! <3

Thank you for sending this in!

#pinky replies #swan princess! reader #advertising from the anons #what a concept. <3

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demonsslayersstuff · 2 days

Text

Late Night Talks (Levi x Reader)

A/N: Another Levi Drabble cause I cannot stop thinking about this man lol. Anyway just a late night talk with Levi about his lack of sleep. Mostly fluff, a small amount of angst, but that’s about it. Gender Neutral reader. Probably gonna take a break from writing for a bit after this, anyway thanks for all the support! Enjoy! ☺️

You sigh as you feel the coldness coming from his side of the bed, though you were not surprised. Levi rarely, if he ever slept through the night, slept undisturbed. You rub your eyes before glancing at the bedside clock reading the time; 2:00am.

You throw the covers off and pad out of the bedroom, knowing where your sleep deprived partner was. You don’t even knock as you reach his office, it was much too late for formalities. Levi glances up as you softly close the door, taking in your clearly grumpy appearance.

“Why are you here?”, he asks placing the paper he was holding down. “I could ask you the same question, we talked about this Levi”, you reply, crossing your arms. Levi rolls his eyes and you feel the beginning of another late night argument forming. “Levi please”, you tell him as you walk towards him.

You skirt around the edge of his desk before you come to perch on it, next to him. You wait for him to yell at you for sitting on his neatly organized desk, but Levi says nothing, continuing to look at you. “I don’t want to fight love”, you say after a couple minutes of silence. Levi’s eyes flash to your eyes for a moment, still not used to the term of endearment. You reach out and softly brush his cheek with your thumb, attempting to break through his thick emotional wall.

Levi sighs with your touch, “I didn’t want to wake you, it’s not your job to deal with my nightmares”, he finally tells you. You look at him softly before, slipping off his desk, careful to not disturb the paperwork. “May I?”, you ask him, indicating that you wanted to sit on his lap. “It’s too early for anyone to come in”, you continue as he looks unsure of how to respond. “Very well”, he replies. You smile as he straighten ups, and you move to straddle his waist, making him gasp. “You brat”, he mumbles as you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into tight hug.

“I promise, no ulterior motives, I just wanted to hold you love”, you whisper into his neck. You hear his familiar “Tch”, but also feel his arms wrap around your sides, holding you close to him. “Levi you’re human, I don’t expect you to always been the epitome of humanities strongest”, you tell him, leaning back to look into his dark grey eyes. You move your fingers to lightly trace the dark bags under his eyes, “But what good are you to anyone here if you continue this? You need to sleep”, you continue, this time softer.

“I know, I know”, Levi says, turning his face into your palm, gently nipping your inner wrist before sighing. “It’s just hard for me, to…get it out of my head”, he tells you. You can hear from his tone he feels uncomfortable admitting this, but you knew it would never be easily for Levi to open up about his inner demons. “If you ever want to, I’m a great listener. You know it will stay between the two of us”, you say to him. His face is apprehensive at your words. “Or you can just wake me up and hold me, whatever helps you sleep better”, you continue.

Levi grabs both of your hands and squeezes them. “Would you be ok with…that?”, he asks quietly. You lean your forehead against his, “Of course, I’m here for you, always”, you murmur. Levi doesn’t respond, he just quietly shakes his head, his silent way of agreeing with you.

“I love you”, you whisper before leaning down to kiss him gently. You feel Levi move his hands to your back. Hands pressing you closer to him as you open your mouth, deepening the kiss. Kissing Levi was always intoxicating, you never wanted it to end, you wanted to taste him forever. However it was late, and you knew that the both of you needed sleep.

So you sigh, disconnecting the kiss. “Let’s go back to bed yeah?”, you ask before detaching yourself from his body. “Let me finish this one report, I’ll be right behind you”, Levi says. “Levi”, you say tone serious. “What did we just talk about?”, you continue. You hold out your hand for a moment before Levi takes it, accepting his defeat. He turns out the lamp before following you out the door leaving the moonlight to shine on his pile of unfinished paper work. Which thankfully stays that way the rest of the night.

#attack on titan #aot fluff #levi ackerman x reader #aot levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader

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pressplay-if · 8 hours

Note

I've written some asks before about MC romancing Angel and Zima. The thing is, I for sure just wanted to romance Zima. The angst, the drama, and Zima's allure are enough to entice me even before Zima is introduce into the narrative.

But Angel stole my heart. I wasn't considering him from the initial post description. And while I thought the idea of him not being incredibly attractive was interesting, and had the potential to a quite cute romance, I didn't think I would pursue him since Zima was right there.

Then the demo drops, and boom! Angel is a dream. He is affectionate, he is a bro. He is supportive. And clearly cares. I think my MC could easily grow attached to Angel both as a friend (if you ever implement a best friend feature, unless is incompatible with romance, I would choose Angel immediately as my MC's best friend) and as a lover.

Then the NSFW alphabets convinced me further. While I still want Zima (my MC is a bottom, so it's only natural), the idea of being experimental with Angel seems so fun that I even imagine scenarios for them. It's crazy.

I also love the dynamic between my MC (a very tall man, with a down to earth kind of beauty), being so attractive and all, being so deeply in love with a guy that people would so easily put to a side because he is average looking. I just love the idea of my MC being devoted to Angel, as a pilgrim with a Saint, only for the world to simply not understand it. I also love the idea of my MC, looking for cuddles from Angel, while being so much taller than him. And Angel being so receptive, and so caring, as if MC was a small bean instead of a big man.

I don't know how you did it to make me so enthralled by an RO. At this point I'm just waiting to see how Zima is, at which point my heart my decide to drop Zima in favor of Angel. Or not. If there is poly I just need those too to top my MC. How will that work? No idea, but the vision is too great to give it up.

Anyway. I guess I owe you a question. This being an ask, after all. So, I wonder. How is Angel name's pronounced? Is like in Spanish (Ángel)? Or just the standard English pronunciation (if such a thing exists, since English is not standardized at all)?

Have a nice day!

Thank you so much for the Angel-appreciation and the very long ask. I reread these when I feel down you know. This is quality material. Angel would like to wear your very tall MC like a scarf <3

Ok so. His name. Originally, I wanted to go for the Spanish spelling and pronunciation, but then I grew enamored with the idea of him being literally named Angel. Like an actual angel. So I decided to use A instead of Á, even though in my head, I pronounce it Ángel. I also imagine Angel will introduce himself pronouncing it differently everytime to confuse people, so there's no general consensus even among the band members on his it's pronounced 😂

#pressplay if #interactive fiction #romance options #ro asks

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g1rld1ary · 2 days

Note

Hey!! I saw you write for lockwood & co, so I've been summoned ✨

May I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where it's basically like the deleted scene where Lucy is in a towel and compliments Lockwood's pajamas, and Lockwood (probably panicking) says he likes her towel and he has this face of instant regret

Basically that but with reader and maybe they're already dating? Thank you so much!!

nice towel - anthony lockwood x reader

wc: 922

cw: r gets caught in just a towel, kissing (slightlyyyy suggestive content maybe??), swearing

thank u so much for this request sweetheart!! i know it took so long but it was so fun to write -- i know i took it in a little different direction but i hope u enjoy & i did ur req justice!!!! lots of love xoxo

It wasn’t always easy living with your coworkers. Especially when your coworkers were all teenagers your age, including your very new boyfriend. Having four people in relatively cramped quarters was bound to bring uncomfortable situations, but you all tried to handle it like the adults you weren’t yet.

The aforementioned uncomfortable situations happened most often surrounding the bathroom. One bathroom between four people wasn’t the worst arrangement in the world, but with four people with such irregular schedules, it was inevitable that sometimes your visits would coincide.

Usually it wasn’t so bad; two people sharing the sink as they brushed their teeth, you sitting in the shower (clothed, of course) shaving your legs as George did his hair. Life was mostly peaceful.

You were taking a Sunday night everything shower, washing your hair and using the fancy exfoliator and body wash you got as a birthday gift. Your body was smooth, you felt glowing and you were wrapped in a fluffy warm towel, painting your toes as you sat on the toilet. You were the last to shower so you had no inclination to rush, knowing there wasn’t a great chance of anyone bursting in with any urgency.

Except, of course, Lockwood and Co. never did what you expected. A loud banging came through the door and you jumped, swiping the nail polish over your skin instead of the nail.

You jumped up regardless, clutching your towel tightly across your chest as you opened the door. George, Lucy and Lockwood stood on the other side, all in their pyjamas and panting slightly. You stared at them, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“What do you remember about the Jefferson House ghost?” George asked, catching you off guard.

“Huh?”

“Jefferson House ghost. The poison case. I was visiting family, Lucy wasn’t part of the company yet and Lockwood is useless at remembering research. What do you remember?” You were still struggling to understand the purpose of this question, but shrugged and answered anyway, rattling off whatever you could remember about the house, the ghost and the case.

“You’re so much more useful than Lockwood,” Lucy said, shooting you both a teasing smile. Lockwood rolled his eyes, but amusement shone through underneath.

“Right. Well, I’d like to get back to my night, uh,” You caught a glance of Lockwood’s matching pink set of pyjamas, “Nice pyjamas.” Lockwood glanced down at his outfit and you swore you saw him blush, a rosy colour similar to his shirt. Lucy and George watched between you.

“Thanks,” He said, eyes giving you a once over, “Nice… towel.” You could actually see the regret seeping into his bones, mortified cringe screwing up his features. You bit your lip, an awkward giggle escaping as all four of you stood, slightly unsure of what to do.

You took the initiative, slowly backing away from the group, pressing the door closed as you heard Lucy’s deadpan: “Lockwood, what the fuck?” and his panicked reply.

“I panicked!”

You had a total physical reaction, the tangible awkwardness of the moment permeating through the bathroom. You did an embarrassing wriggle-shake-expelling of discomfort and immediately felt better, going so far as to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

You and Lockwood had only been dating for a few months, trying to take things slow and ensure you weren’t compromising the state of the company. Therefore, you hadn’t spent the night in his room yet. So you’d never seen Lockwood in his adorable matching set of flannels and he’d never seen you less than fully clothed (with the exception of him patching you up a few times where you looked so unsexy).

Later that night, you knocked softly on Lockwood’s door, pushing it open gently. Only the lamp was still on, Lockwood reading in his bed, still dressed in the pink pyjamas. He looked up when you entered, surprised but not at all disappointed.

Your usual rule was that you spent time together in the library at night; private but not at risk of crossing lines that might make George or Lucy uncomfortable — the company was both of your priorities.

“I am so sorry for before,” Lockwood begged for forgiveness, smile both embarrassed and entertained. You shook your head, dismissing the apology.

“It’s ok, I laughed.” He relaxed immediately, megawatt smile back out for you to admire. He patted the spot beside him and you all but dove in next to him, giddy at the feeling of being in his bed. “You’re pyjamas are really cute, by the way.” He blushed again, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You hoped he couldn’t feel your racing heart.

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted with mischief, “You looked pretty cute in the towel too.”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you, looking up at him through your lashes in a way you knew he liked.

“Yeah.” He swooped down and stole a kiss, triumphant when he pulled away until you grabbed the back of his neck, connecting your lips deeper. He let out a startled noise before he melted into it, adjusting you to a more comfortable position underneath him.

Lockwood pulled away to admire the view.

“Maybe we need to rethink our rules,” He murmured, playing with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

“Anthony, I swear to God, if you don’t keep kissing me —”

You didn’t have to finish the sentence.

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dragon-kazansky · 2 days

Text

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eight - Deep into the hole

“I can't believe this is happening. What do you think happened to him?” Amelie asks, looking more than a little worked up.

“I really don't know…” You lie. It feels awful lying to her, but telling her the truth would be far worse. Why did you ever have to cross paths with Lestat?

“I can't believe it.” She says again.

You focus on making the coffee. There was very little chance of you getting any sleep right now anyway. You pour two cups and hand one to Amelie. She takes it with a soft ‘thank you.’

“You know… you were the last person I saw him with…”

You look at her. “Please tell me you're not accusing me of anything. Amelie, I don't know where he is.”

“I know. I was just saying…” The tone of her voice leaves you a little unconvinced. There's doubt lingering in your mind and for the first time ever you're left wondering who your real friends might be.

“I'm a lot of things, but a murderer ain't one.”

Amelie seems to realize how her words had sounded and moves closer to you. She reaches out for your hand and sighs loudly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I've just been thinking too much.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Please don't let whatever is happening come between us. You're one of the few people I have.”

Amelie puts down her coffee so she can hug you. You return the gesture, but doubt is still eating away at your mind.

‘Come to me, Chéri.’

You hear him in your head. He was probably disappointed you had left. You needed time to think before you went back. There was too much going on.

You wake suddenly. Light is illuminating your room through your curtains. Amelie is fast asleep on your couch and you're curled up in a chair beside her. Two forgotten cups of coffee sit on the table.

Your head pounds as you get up out of the chair. You take a few moments to gather yourself and then start cleaning up. Amelie only stirs after you start filling the sink with water to wash up with.

“What time is it?” She asks, stretching.

“Noon.”

“Oh no! I'm supposed to be at the theater to answer questions about Noah. Damn it. I have to go.” She scrambles to get up.

“Wait a minute.” You wipe your hands and walk over to her. “What do you mean?”

“The police were going to go back to the theater today to ask questions. I promised Jack I'd be there.”

You feel an uneasy feeling in your body. “I'll take you.”

Arriving at the theater, you only see one police car parked outside. It gives you a feeling of dread as you look at it. Amelie leads the way inside.

All the performers are gathered in the lobby. They're all talking amongst each other. Through the commotion you can see Jack talking to two officers. After a few moments he turns to everyone and steps up on a chair.

“Quiet!”

Everyone falls silent. Jack turns to the officers. The tallest of the two steps forward. “We're here to enquire about Noah. It would seem his disappearance holds more questions than answers. One by one we're going to take you into the theater and ask you questions. If anyone knows anything about where he may be, dead or alive, please come forward.”

It feels like it gets harder to breathe.

The shorter officer steps forward and calls the first name. While they go inside, the rest of the crew all begin talking again. They're all trying to figure out what's happening. Jack gets bombarded with questions.

You take a seat on one of the small couches in the lobby. Amelie turns and looks at you quietly. She walks over and takes a seat beside you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… can't believe this is happening. Do they really think something happened to Noah?”

“His sister certainly thinks so. She went to his place and all his stuff was still there, but the door was locked. Reckon he was taken or something before he even got home.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was Lestat even going to do anything about all of this? He knows what's happening. He surely knows how much trouble you're in. Then again, can the police even connect you with Noah's disappearance. No one actually saw you with him alone. Lestat came in quick at the time and took him just as fast.

There's no evidence you were with him after the show.

One by one more performers were called into the theater. The ones who have been questioned already get asked to leave immediately. You watch each of them head on home.

Jack comes over to you after half the lobby is empty. He sees you with Amelie.

“I didn't realize you were. You don't need to be here.”

You look up at him. “Don't they want to question everyone?”

“Yes, but you're clear.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What do you mean I'm clear?”

“I already told the police that after the incident on stage, you left and Noah came to me. You were gone before the end of the show.”

“What?”

“Noah came to talk to me after you left the stage that night. I don't know where he went after, but when I came to your room, you were already gone.”

Jack doesn't know about the brief altercation in your dressing room. It really did happen too quickly for anyone to notice.

“Oh, I see.”

Jack places a hand on your shoulder in support. “You look tired. Go home.”

“No, let me stay.”

The short officer comes out to call for the next person when he sees you and Jack. He walks over and checks his list. “You're the pianist.”

“That's right.”

“Jack has already cleared up your whereabouts, but may we ask you some questions?”

Jack goes to interfere, but you're faster. “Of course. I'll come with you now.”

Jack looks at you with a column expression and watches you go with the officer.

Amelie looks up at him. “She'll be fine. She always is.”

“I know.”

Inside the theater you make your way to where the tall officer is. He's writing some things down. As you approach he looks up.

“This is the pianist Jack mentioned,” the other officer said.

“Oh. Wasn't expecting you here today.”

“I want to help if I can.” You tell him.

He nods. “I'm officer Michaels. That's officer Jackson. Take a seat, ma'am.”

You sit down beside him.

“Did you know Noah?” He asks.

“Not very well. He came to the theater to perform. Jack had suggested we do a duet, but I declined.”

“Yes, I heard as much. May we ask why?”

“I perform alone. I play solo.”

Michaels nods and makes a note of that. He looks at you again. “What happened that night?”

“I was performing. Same as I do every Friday. I was only just into my first song when Noah stormed the stage singing his heart out. I was furious, but only because he ruined my music. Not that he was a bad singer, just that I like my music to speak without the need for words.”

Michaels nods again. “Then what happened?”

Lestat happened. But you can't tell him that.

“I left the stage, ending my performance early. I was not in much mood to be made a fool of. I retreated to my dressing room to gather my things.”

“And then?”

“I went home. I was too embarrassed and furious to talk to anyone. I was gone before the show was over. Didn't even say bye to Jack.”

It wasn't a complete lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

“I see. Jack said as much. He spoke to Noah briefly and then went to check on you after he had the next performer on stage. Your dressing room was empty. No sign of Noah either. You did not leave with him that night?”

“Not at all.”

Michaels makes a note. “Understood. Thank you for your time, ma'am.”

You nod and rise from the seat. However, before you get too far, you turn. “May I ask, what do you think happened to him?”

“I can't say for certain, but it is likely he disappeared after leaving the theater, but before reaching his home. Rest assured, We will find our answers.”

You nod and leave quietly.

By the time you're leaving the theater, Amelie is going in for questioning. You don't stop to talk to anyone, just like the others did before you. You're on your way home when someone comes up beside you.

“Hey there.”

You turn and see Eleanor has joined you. You had just wanted to go home.

“Hello.”

“May I join you for a moment?” She asks kindly.

“Sure.”

You walk in silence for a few moments before she talks. “My brother wrote about you in his letter to me.”

“He did?” You ask, almost worried about what he had said. You felt too involved in something you didn't actually do.

“He said he had the most beautiful piano piece he had ever heard in his life. He had said to me that he was going to sing to that piano one day.”

You look at her. “He really wanted that?”

“Yes. My brother is an admirer of the arts. Music is his passion.” She smiles. “He used to sing to me all the time.

“I see…”

“It's a shame I didn't get to see him sing with you. You'd make a good pair.”

Her comment makes you feel rather sick. You can feel your stomach turning as you walk. You just wanted to go home and disappear for a few days.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… tired.”

She seems to fall for your lie and loops her arm around yours. “Let me walk you home.”

You decide to just let her.

As you walk you drift away with your thoughts. It's still day, so Lestat will be asleep. Should you go visit him at nightfall? Should you just leave him be? Lestat seems like more trouble than he's worth.

Yet, the way he looks at you. The way he held you in his arms and kissed you. You can't deny your attraction to him. Lestat was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. You wanted to see him again.

Though he is still the reason this whole mess has happened.

You were confused on what to do.

Before you know it you're standing on your doorstep. Eleanor lets go of your arm and smiles kindly at you.

“Take care.”

You find yourself smiling softly. “I'll try.”

She walks away slowly, clearly lost in her own thoughts. You can't help watching her go. She shouldn't have come here. Everything would have been fine had she simply not come here.

Too late to do anything about it now.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19 @whereismymindnow @chauchirem @angelrenee239 @ppureheroiine

#the song in our hearts #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #iwtv #dragon's lair

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