#but just like him it will pass unnoticed and forgotten

[the-graves-family]

Aegri Somnia: Sick Man's Dream

09-02-2024

It’s cold.

Aaron hasn’t been home in days.

No footsteps, no slamming doors, no yelling, no hitting. Nothing. The house is still, as if it’s holding its breath, frozen in time waiting for its master’s return. 

Each minute crawls by, painfully slow. Ace has no way to tell the time, except for the darkness that falls at dusk, and the light that breaks through at dawn. His brother will surely be upset when he returns: the chores haven’t been done. He can expect vicious words and strikes when Aaron returns. The thought only brings misery, condenses in his chest and leaves him feeling desolate.

He’s not sure if the persistent cough that has plagued him for weeks is gone, or if he’s just too weak to cough anymore. It had certainly felt like he’d broken something for a while. Pain is a familiar feeling, a constant companion for the last decade or so. He’s not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. On one hand, he’s not too bothered by everything that seems to be going wrong with his body now. On the other hand, it could be really serious, and he wouldn’t know. What’s one more ache in the midst of hundreds?

A few hours ago, he’d been in the most pain he’d ever felt besides the accident that had cost him his limbs. Writhing on the bed and gasping for air, begging for help. Now, he feels almost nothing.

Except for the cold. The cold is really starting to bother him.

Ace’s lungs haven’t been the same since the bomb. Makes sense, he’s missing half of one. But he can’t remember ever breathing so shallowly. It feels like no oxygen is getting into his blood, but he can’t even muster up the energy to panic. Every sensation feels foggy and distant.

Memories flicker to the forefront of his mind without his permission, faraway blurs of color and sound. Voices, faces, things that seemingly hold no meaning anymore.

Ace thinks of Adrian.

He’d like a hug from his brother, right about now. Adrian gives the bestest, warmest hugs. He can’t remember the last time he’d gotten one, and it makes him irrationally sad. He’s so cold. Why can’t his big brother come and help him?

Why isn’t anyone helping him…?

Another memory, and it’s the faces of two women he can’t recognize anymore. They feel important, so important, but their names are lost to him. Ace can’t remember where he knew them from, but it feels like he should never have forgotten them. Like an unconscious betrayal. He wonders how long ago they met. It must have been a long time, for everything to have faded away, surely. He remembers a small room, remembers rowdy meals, waiting patiently for something important to happen—

Ace feels incredibly alone for a moment, before a full-body shiver brings him back to the present by reminding him that his whole being aches dully. Cold.

It’s dark outside, and the light in the hallway has been flickering on and off for a while. Ace doesn’t know why he left the door to his room open: he usually closes it to avoid Aaron.

He’s not completely sure why he wants to avoid Aaron.

His twin, his other half. Why does the mere thought of him make Ace’s heart race, cold sweat run down his back? It makes the cotton-like confusion swirling in his head even worse. A lot of things aren’t making sense, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Ace is good at fixing things. Used to be, at least.

The face of a dark-skinned man flashes behind his eyes, and he has to curl up and whimper from the sheer agony of knowing he should recognize him. It feels so important, like everything will fall into place if he just remembers. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. The man feels familiar, and kind. Warm, big hands. Wonderful hugs. He thinks about walks in the park, and dinners with candles on the table. A lot of people asking him questions and talking to him in a language he's barely started to understand. Awkward but heartwarming, because it means they care.

He’s so confused.

Why is he even thinking of people who aren’t family?

Family is everything, Father had always told him that. He has to be a good brother, and a good son, and everything will be alright. Adam’s sure that if he is good and dutiful, all these feelings and all this suffering will just be washed away by caring hands. Make him warm again.

He wonders where Father is. Even when he was very busy with his cases, he’d always find the time to visit his sons if they were sick. Adam feels very sick.

The more he stares at the white sheet on the bed, unable to even lift his head, the more he’s sure he’s never had white sheets in their room. Uncle always likes to use the colorful ones. Every shade of blue he could find, because Uncle says that white sheets remind him of hospitals.

Hospitals… something about hospitals…

Memories of his childhood room are tainted by smoke and burning plastic, blood pouring out of him unimpeded. No, nothing happened at the cabin. Right? No fires.

Adam’s scared. He doesn’t like being scared.

Aaron always makes him feel better when he’s scared. His twin is never scared, and he always says he’ll beat the crap out of anything that scares Adam. It makes him feel really safe. Even if they’re not supposed to use words like that. That’s just the way Aaron is, always breaking the rules.

The light outside his room flickers once more, and he’s sure he hears footsteps in the hallway.

Aaron’s home.

It’s getting really hard to keep his eyes open, but Adam still finds it in him to smile,  despite the racing heart, despite the chills down his spine. His twin’s home. Everything’s going to be okay. He wants to sit up, to greet his brother properly, but for some reason, his body doesn’t seem very keen on listening to him anymore. He’s trying his best, but all he can manage is some weak twitching. His limbs are numb, like something’s pinching all his nerves at once.

The more time Aaron takes from the door to his room, the harder it is to keep smiling. Why is he taking so long?

Darkness blurs the edges of his vision and he struggles to keep his eyes open. It's hard to see, hard to stay awake. He's tired. Nothing even hurts anymore.

Adam tries to sit up again, but the wave of nausea and exhaustion that overcomes him keeps him planted firmly on the bed. He doesn’t understand. He'd been fine just… yesterday? He can't—

He's very tired, and so very cold. Maybe he should rest for a little bit. Close his eyes for a few minutes before Aaron comes to him.

A shape in the doorway, gray and indistinct, makes him blink. Is he finally not alone anymore?

“...Aaron?”

But Adam is tired, so tired. 

He closes his eyes.

The house becomes empty.

[emphistic]

What is Love?

Picking Yuuji up from school was not a rare occurrence. On the other hand, picking Yuuji up from school while accompanied by Sukuna was a rare occurrence.

Kids are flocking to you like birds, asking if you were Yuuji's mom, and who that creepy man next to you was — this all reminded said creepy man about why this was a rare occurrence, and how it should stay one.

The final straw for Sukuna snaps when a little boy, probably around Yuuji's age, approaches you with his hands behind his back. "Hi, you are very pretty. Can I be your boyfriend?"

You looked a bit taken aback, before remembering this was a kid talking to you, and kids could be quite . . . odd. "Um, thank you! You are very sweet, but, I already have a boyfriend."

Sukuna smirks to himself, a smug expression painted on his face.

"That's okay. I have two girlfriends; you can have two boyfriends," the kid giggled. "He doesn't have to know."

At this, Sukuna glares at the little boy, fully prepared and ready to beat him up, but he halted, as you placed a coaxing hand on his arm.

"Umm—"

"Here!" The boy shoved a daffodil into your hands, it was covered in dirt and had a few missing pedals.

"Oh! This is—"

"I picked it up from over there," he pointed a little finger across the school. "It's pretty. And you're pretty. So it's for you! Hehe, pretty flower for pretty lady."

Just then, Yuuji came running out of the school's doors — backpack aggressively shaking and threatening to fall off of his little arms — and into your arms, well . . . legs actually. But he demanded to be in your arms.

"Up! Up!"

"Okay, Yuuji." You hoisted him up and he immediately went to bury his face into your neck, calming down from his hyper-ness when he breathed in your perfume.

"How was school, baby?"

"It was so fun! I missed you though." You felt Yuuji frown in your neck.

"Aww, well I'm here now. Let's go home, kay? Then we can make up for the time you missed me, how about that?" You rubbed Yuuji's back.

"Okay!"

Unfortunately for the other boy that was still staring up at you — and now Yuuji, too — he was long forgotten by you. Your full attention now on Yuuji.

When the pink-haired kid is finally in the car, after wrestling to not be strapped down by the seatbelt, he immediately goes to working on an assignment. Strange, you thought, looking back at him through the rear-view mirror. Yuuji hates homework.

This continues when you three get back to the apartment. Yuuji immediately slips off his shoes and takes off to his bedroom, assignment and pencil pouch in hand.

You turn to looked at Sukuna, "I thought he wanted to play first?"

Sukuna shrugged, not knowing what his brother was up to, "He's a weirdo, you know that."

You frowned, "I'm bored."

"I know a way to pass the time."

An hour later, you exit your shared bedroom — planning to start on dinner — just to find notes and drawings all over the apartment. On the floor, in the potted plants, on the coffee table, shoved in crevices on the couch, everywhere.

Picking up a few piece of paper, you find yourself reading:

"Deer Y/N,

You are so nise to me.

You are very good at macking food.

I love you!"

"You are so amazing!"

"I love you so mutch!"

"Y/N is good and nise and prety."

Some drawings even depicted you and Yuuji holding hands.

While eating dinner, you decided to question a very smiley and giggling Yuuji, to find out that he had an assignment to show his appreciation to someone he loved.

Most of the notes were only directed to you, but some of the drawings had Sukuna too. The rest of the evening, Yuuji spent telling you and Sukuna how much he loved you guys. Quietly, and going unnoticed by Yuuji and you, Sukuna reciprocated his brother's affection.

A/N: loosely based on this ask — this was supposed to be wayyyy shorter, but i got a bit carried away

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

[seraphdreams]

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him “megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡

megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.

and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.

for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.

“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,

bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.

he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.

with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.

he could never interfere with your comfort.

after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.

“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.

“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.

matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.

in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.

megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”

you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”

a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”

you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”

clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.

he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”

you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”

yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.

the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.

“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.

you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”

“let’s fuck, then.”

his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.

in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.

megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.

“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.

this might be his best birthday yet.

he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.

lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.

“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.

his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?

he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.

underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.

“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.

“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.

“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.

while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.

“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.

white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.

after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.

he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.

“you’re the best birthday present.”

[geekforhorror]

kiss it better

pairing: dbf!james kelly x fem reader

description: james kelly is one of your dads oldest friends who has a thing for you…especially in that short skirt of yours.

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!james, sub!reader, established age gap (james is 40, reader is 21), skirt fucking, james has a thing for your ass, pussy slapping, slight objectification, praise, degradation, corruption kink, unprotected p in v sex, fluff, etc.

word count: 2.5k

James knew what you were doing.

Currently, your dad was out buying some propane fuel for the barbecue grill outside because he had forgotten to get some beforehand. However, he had left you alone with his best friend James.

You had developed quite a crush on the older man a few years back and you’ve wanted him ever since. You didn’t know what it was about him that you found yourself attracted to the most. Maybe it was the faint stubble on his face, his piercing blue eyes, or his tattoos. Perhaps it was all three. You thought you were being subtle all this time about your little crush on James. I mean for christ sakes, you had even picked out the skimpiest crop top and tight skirt you owned when your dad told you he would be joining the two of you for the mini backyard barbecue.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to James at all. He always saw how you would bat your doe eyes at him all innocently, the way you swayed your hips while walking past him, and how you tempted him. At first he thought he was looking into it too much, but then he saw it happen again…and again…and again. His need for you grew every passing day when you teased him and you were just adding more fire to his need for you.

That’s what was currently happening.

Your dad had texted you saying he would be back soon and told you to get the pack of beer out from the cooler in the kitchen.

“Can you come with me, Jamie?”

That was new. You had never called him Jamie.

“Sure, honey,” he says, trying to be nonchalant when all he wanted to do was smirk in your face. Plus, he wants to see the selection for himself. Classic James.

As you get up from the couch in the living room, he trails behind you, not missing a step before the two of you find the freezer where the blue cooler labeled ‘beer’ was located. Before you know it, you’re walking back to him and like always, you make sure to sway your hips for him. He was addicted to the way your pretty little body moved and couldn’t help but wonder how it would move while fucking you. His restraint was wavering.

Just when he thinks it couldn’t get any worse for him, you bend over. Doing this allows James to get a glance up your skirt and what he saw was enough for him to get hard in his faded blue jeans. Not only had you bent over for him on purpose, but had also worn the thinnest lace panties known to man. He swore he was going to blow his load right then and there.

Opening the box, you present it to James as if nothing had just happened. “Is this good for you Jamie?” you ask him sheepishly.

“I know what you’re doing, sweetheart,” he admits.

“What do you mean?” you ask with the fakest, most insincere tone you could possibly ever use.

“Don’t play dumb with me, doll. I see the way you act around me…acting all innocent after,” he says, calling you out with no hesitation.

“You did?” you ask.

“You make it hard not to notice when you’re parading your tits and ass around me every time I see you,” he says.

“What are you going to do about it?” you say with a smirk.

That was it.

Within seconds, he pounces himself onto you, his carnal desire for you getting the best of him. His lips latch onto yours, fueled with unwavering passion. He had waited for this moment and now it was happening. His tongue finally finds its way into your mouth and you don’t find yourself disgusted by it. All you felt was the desire for him to do unspeakable things to you.

“James…I need you,” you plead, whining into his mouth

“Already so desperate f’me and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he coos.

You could feel the arousal seeping through your panties at the sound of his silky smooth voice. The effect he had on you was profound. Melting over his voice? You were screwed.

His hands found purchase to your clothed ass, but that wasn’t enough for him. Taking initiative, he rolls the dainty fabric up to your hips, now allowing him to grope your ass with those fucking tattooed hands you loved so much. If he only knew the amount of times you had touched yourself while imagining that they were his hands on your body.

He hoists you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist before breaking the kiss. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, sweet girl…how many times I’ve had to hold myself back out of respect your old man, but fuck it. I want you.”

With that being said, he holds you with his arms and takes you out of the room. Before he can lead you up the stairs that lead to your room, you stop him.

“Where are you taking us?” you ask.

“To your room, angel,” he says to you.

“What’s wrong with the couch in the living room?” you implore.

“Sweetie, I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I’m gonna fuck you the way you deserve, not on some old couch,” he says before finally going up the stairs with haste, but also making sure he didn’t drop you in the process. You guys finally make it to your room and he wastes no time before placing you gently down on the bed, moving you backwards so there was enough room for him to successfully tower over your body. The sight gave you chills, but in the best way possible.

His lips latch onto your warm skin surrounding your collarbone before sucking away at the tender flesh of it. You let out a breathy whine at the newfound sensation. You could feel how soft his lips were…just like you imagined they would be.

“James…” you say.

“Yes, baby?” he asks back.

“Can’t take anymore teasing…need you inside me,” you beg of the older man.

“Shhh…patience, pretty girl…be patient for me, yeah?” he says in a soft voice at which you nod at. “Such a good girl.”

He can’t even stop himself before he starts stripping you of your clothes,..if you could even call them that with how short and dainty they are. “Raise your arms for me, angel…wanna see those pretty tits,” he coos. You do as he says and within seconds, he’s met with the bare flesh that had been hiding underneath your shirt. He was in heaven.

“Should’ve known you weren’t wearing a bra,” he smirks.

He had imagined your tits so many times while jacking himself off. He always imagined the way your tits would bounce when fucking you, the way he would suck them.

“These are fucking mine, got it?” he enunciates, now pinching one of your sensitive nipples with his slender fingers, then rolling it accordingly.

“Fuck Jamie…” you say, lost in the feeling.

“My baby’s already whining for me, hm? You haven’t seen anything yet,” he claims. You had no idea him saying that would lead him to now suck at your pebbled areolas to prove his point.

“Such pretty tits on such a pretty girl,” he praises. He decides to tease you even further by pulling down your expensive lace panties before throwing them aside like they were nothing. “And an even prettier pussy…so wet for me, baby.”

The anticipation for him to slide into you was truly killing you. It was always on your mind when you knew it shouldn’t be. “You’re fucking perfect…need to have you,” he says, almost sounding a tad bit desperate.

“I’m all yours, James,” you assure him.

“Glad to hear it, doll.” he smiles. Finally, after what seems like ages, he starts throwing articles of his clothing off his toned body before he’s only in his black boxers while on top of you. You couldn’t help your curiosity as to how hard he was and looked down at the sight below you…and god, he was huge. The outline of his hardened bulge was more than prominent, leading you to question whether you could take him or not. He notices your lingering stare and can’t help but grow a little cocky.

“Eyes are up here, baby,” he says before grabbing your chin with his veiny hand.

“I’m sorry…” you trail.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I think it’s quite cute seeing you get all flustered,” he says with a chuckle.

“I want your cock…please,” you beg, not even caring how desperate and whiny he had made you in this moment.

“Gonna fuck you so good until the only thing you remember is me and my name,” James promises you. “Gonna ruin you for anybody who thinks they have a chance with you.”

He slowly slides the fabric covering his cock down to the floor, where the rest of your guys’ clothes laid sprawled out. It only took a mere second before you saw the way his cock sprung towards his defined stomach. Fuck…he was gonna split you raw.

“You ready f’me, baby?” he asks you.

“Yes please…need your cock so bad,”

“Such a good girl for begging,” he praises while caressing your messy locks.

Suddenly, you feel his cock intrude your warm cunt, causing a moan to escape your lips from the sensation of him stretching you out with his thick cock.

“Shit…squeezing me so well, pretty girl… just like I thought you would,” he admits.

“Please move, James…” you whine.

“Anything for my girl,” he says before complying with your ever so desperate command. He begins thrusting into your tight hole without showing any signs of mercy or slowing down anytime soon. He wish he could take his time with you, but he knew it was only a matter of time until your dad was set to return.

“Just like that!” you scream out, your well manicured nails digging into his shoulder dimples as he fucks you into oblivion. With every inch inserted into you, the more dumb you could feel yourself becoming. But guess what? You didn’t give a fuck.

“Poor girl…already becoming dumb just from her daddy’s friend fucking her like the slut she is,” he degrades.

“Fuck…” you moan in response.

“Such naughty words from a girl like you,” he tuts in response.

“Need it harder…” you say in between raggedy breaths.

“You’re going to take what I give you and you’re going to like it, princess. Now behave,” he orders. You follow his instructions as explained before continuing with his erratic movements inside you. Your guys’ hips collide with one another, providing much needed friction that had both of you moaning. Sounds of your slickness began to fill the room and James couldn’t help but savor them. You felt his cock scrape your sensitive nerves that had already begun twitching around him.

He took in the way your chest heaved with every single thrust he made while inside you, the way you were panting for air…everything. You looked absolutely beautiful all fucked out for him and he would remember that sight below him for as long as he lived.

“Such a little cock slut, hm? So desperate for my dick that you dressed like this for me instead of asking me for it. Thought your daddy raised you to know better…guess not,” he tuts in disapproval. You felt yourself getting closer to your inevitable climax just by listening to his degrading words. You felt ashamed for getting off to someone speaking to you as if you were nothing, but you couldn’t help yourself. “Don’t fret baby, that’s what your new daddy is here for.” he says before slapping your pussy, guaranteeing that there would be a fresh mark tomorrow. The impact left a stinging sensation afterwards, but instead of wanting him to stop, you found yourself wanting more of his harsh blows. This was made crystal clear to him when you let out a moan.

“Look what we have here…a filthy slut moaning over getting treated like a fuck doll. My fuck doll,” he teases.

“Please…want more of it,” you admit.

“Of course you do, baby. Because you’re a pathetic little thing,” James mocks while still sheathed inside your sopping cunt. His hand lands another harsh hit to the irritated flesh, making you grip your sheets so hard that they were turning white.

“Fuck Jamie…’m so close,” you whimper.

“Hold on for a bit longer if you wanna prove you can be a good slut for me. Can you do that for me, baby?” he asks, hoping you would provide him with the right answer. You frantically nod your head, which was a good enough answer for him to keep bullying you and your pussy. Before you know it, he sets a new pace, one that was nothing short of animalistic. He wanted to be so deep inside of you as physically possible and that was what he was doing right now.

You can feel his cock twitch inside your warm cunt, which only makes him rock harder into you. Your vision becomes painted with stars as he was doing so and it felt fucking fantastic. He was the only man ever to make you feel like this. Safe to say, he exceeded any of your wild expectations.

Suddenly, you feel yourself becoming unraveled to the point where you can feel the hot coil start to unwind deep inside your fluttering stomach. With each additional movement he made, you felt the sensation become even more undeniable to feel.

“Please let me cum James!” you scream out in ecstasy.

“That’s it pretty girl…cum for me” he praises.

That’s all it took for you to splash your warm release all over his cock. You felt like you were on cloud nine while he was fucking you through your orgasm. The feeling of you coming undone on his dick finally made him ropes of his hot, sticky seed into your sensitive entrance. He groaned while doing so, which you found to be the hottest thing ever.

After the two of you come down from your heaven sent orgasms, he pulls out of you and lays down next to you. He positions himself so that he’s now looking at your pretty face in awe.

“I love you sweet girl and I hope you know I didn’t mean anything bad I said” he admits.

“I love you too James,” you say to him with a chuckle.

James smiles at your confession of love before pulling you in for a slow and gentle kiss, unlike the one you guys had shared before. The two of you found peace and solace in the kiss and you guys wouldn’t stop until either of your lungs gave out…or in this case, when your father comes home, which was now.

“Let’s not tell your father about this,” he says with a laugh.

“Agreed,” you say with a laugh back.

This was one for the books.

tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight-raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022 @demieyesore

[entirelysein-e]

『 Taking his virginity 』

☼ synopsis: Satoru Gojo was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory before taking his innocence.

☼ character: Gojo

☼ wc: 3.8k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, switch!Gojo, virginity loss, experienced reader, oral (reader giving), fingering, cum eating, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare

☼ notes: I gave this piece a little realism since not every first time is picture perfect and no one gets born a sex god. || sign up for my taglist here

Gojo had been chasing after you ever since the day he met you, trying to impress you with everything he could think of. But when his money or the stories he told didn't work, he slowly lost it, trying to make you jealous instead by telling you how many women he takes back to his dorm and how they all scream his name. “I bet they scream because he can't find the clit.” You laughed softly at Shoko’s remark after the white haired man told you about his latest fling.

“That's not true. She squirted all over my cock,” Gojo fired back with a pout on his face as he crossed his arms defensively, but the both of you had to stifle a laugh. He clearly was no gentleman since they don't kiss and tell, but the way he always went over the line with his stories, making sure they were all graphic and detailed, made it hard to believe for you. Why would he tell his crush all that? He followed you around like a lost puppy dog that was begging for just a crumb of your attention and the way he blushed when you teased him never went by unnoticed either. Gojo Satoru was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory.

Studying was quickly forgotten when you straddled his lap while he just tried to explain something about cursed energy to you, but you were far too busy with your own little plan to listen. “Finally got to your senses?” He asked with a smug grin and shoved his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at you just above the dark-tinted glasses. His confidence was as fake as in his previous bedroom stories and it was so apparent by how tense he got when you rested your hands on his chest, his heart almost beating out of his ribcage. His pale skin formed goosebumps when you cupped his cheek ever so gently. “Perhaps I have... Fuck me, Satoru,” you whispered into his ear just before you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck and you could feel a shudder run down his spine.

His hands were on your ass in an instant, kneading the globes eagerly, but it screamed insecurity to you. Slender fingers were kneading your flesh when you started grinding your hips against him. A breathless moan escaped his soft lips upon the sensation and his grip on your ass was painful enough to leave bruises. To make things worse for him, you were mewling his name so pretty right into his ear, your words leaving him breathless as he helped you to move your hips, meeting every roll of yours with a little upward thrust. “Just like that, butterfly,” he moaned out. The sensation of your clothed cunt so close to his cock made him lose his mind entirely and he just wanted to be inside of you, have you as his first.

When your lips met his, Gojo moaned into your mouth, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and he held your hips close against his, aimlessly humping into you, but you bit his lip. “If you cum in your pants right now, I won't even think about sucking you off,” you warned him and his hips almost stilled instantly. His face and ears dusted pink when you caught onto him. It was torture to him, edging himself like this, but perhaps you're not just teasing him and he won't ever pass up on the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. Not when this very image was what caused many sleepless nights where he coated his hand in his own cum more than once. A single hiss left his lips when you started to grind your hips into his again, your breath hot against his neck as you marked his skin up with purple marks. It would be a lie to say that it didn't affect you, knowing that you make him feel so good and that you have him in your palm like putty. His cock feels delicious, even through your clothes. You were almost embarrassed by how soaked your panties were from a little dry humping, but you didn't take pity on his state, not until he admitted he’s a virgin. “Fuck. Can't you just use your mouth already?” He asked through gritted teeth and you moved your kisses to his jawline. “And with that stamina, you made women scream? Impatient asshole,” you teased and his eyes fluttered shut. He knew that you knew it was all a lie, but he wasn't ready to fall into your trap. “It's different with you,” he tried defending himself when you slowly got up from his lap and it took everything in him not to bend you over and bury his aching dick in your cunt. “It's different because it's an actual pussy grinding against you and not just your own hand for once, hm?” You asked and unbuttoned his shirt painfully slowly. “Please use your mouth. I'll do everything you want,” Gojo whispered the last part, feeling foolish for being so desperate, but it made you giggle.

“My eager little virgin,” you cooed and sank to your knees as he bit his own lip at how degrading it sounded to him, his hand slowly traveling into your hair to caress you. “Or am I wrong?” You asked as you unbuttoned his pants without pulling them down yet, until he shook his head. “No, no, you're not,” he said softly, nudging his pants down along with his underwear since you were taking too long for him. You were met with the prettiest cock, already leaking with pre-cum from his soft pink tip. “And you want me to be your first?” You asked, giving him the chance to stop this, fingers raking over his thighs before you pressed a single kiss to each of them. "Yes,” he smiled down at you, not believing his wet dream was about to become reality and you nodded softly as your kisses trailed further up to his hipbones, an impatient whine escaping him. “May I?” You asked him sweetly and looked up to him, but he couldn't answer anymore, gently guiding your head towards his tip, which made you laugh at how eager he was to experience this.

Gojo almost squeaked when your soft lips kissed the leaking tip of his cock, pre-cum already running down his shaft in small beads, but you had enough of the teasing, just wanting him to enjoy his first time now. Ever so gently, you wrapped your lips around his aching length and your longe immediately began to swirl around it, smoothing down any vein and ridge as you slowly sunk your head further down. When you looked up at him through your lashes, he was already far gone. His face contorted in pure bliss before he let his head fall back and his hands traveled to your head. He didn't push you further down, but he needed to hold onto you, feeling like you're sucking his soul out through his dick. When you hollowed out your cheeks for the first time, “fuuuck-” his groan was drawn out and you decided to take him further down your throat. That cocky bastard was indeed very well endowed and with some more practice, he would make women scream.

You barely managed to take his entire length, feeling him so far down your throat, but his sinful moan when your nose brushed the neatly trimmed hair at the base was worth the effort. His hands grabbed your hair tighter with every bop of your head, but it only made you moan. Your soft moans sent vibrations down his cock and that was all it took. Stuttered moans fell from his lips when he held your head in place, not wanting to lose the warmth of your mouth around him as his cum shot down your throat. Normally you would pull back and curse him for shoving your head further down and making you take his cum, but you let him have it this time. The poor virgin's legs were shaking violently in the aftermath of his orgasm when he slowly pulled back, a dust of crimson creeping up his neck, but it was quickly replaced with a cocky smirk. “You're such a good girl,” he praised, acting like someone in some poorly written porn, which made your eyes roll. “Next time, you better ask if the person sucking wants to swallow your cum.” You scolded him, your angry glare set right onto his face, but his cock twitched from your words.

“Can we skip foreplay?” He asked sheepishly, dying to experience your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock, but you only raised your brows and your face fell quickly when you realized it wasn't a joke. “No?!” You snapped, stating the obvious, before taking your shirt off. His eyes almost fell out of his skull when your shirt landed on the ground and his lips were on you in a fraction of a second while eager hands worked to open your bra. A surprised moan slipped out of you when he managed to open your bra on the second try already and you could feel the smirk against your lips. Gojo’s large hands covered your boobs immediately, kneading them eagerly and you let him discover your body the way he wanted to. His kisses slowly wandered down your neck, giving it the same treatment you gave him earlier, sucking small marks onto your skin while leaving open-mouthed kisses behind. “You're so hot,” he breathed against your skin and you could feel how genuine he was. His cocky act was pushed aside. When his lips finally reached your chest, you were holding your breath, a single whimper slipping out when he wrapped his thin lips around one of your nipples while looking up at you to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing your eyes flutter shut and your hands burying themselves in his hair, he moaned content against your boobs, swiping his tongue over the pebbled nipple while his hand caressed the neglected breast until he switched sides.

He could do this forever, your boobs were so warm against him and the little noises you let out were all he ever needed - at least that's what he thought. "Toru, please... more,” you practically begged, certain that your panties would be drenched when he took them off, but Gojo didn't need to be told twice. Giving your boobs a kiss goodbye, his tongue trailed over your stomach to the hem of your pants. “May I?” He asked with a small smile on his face, repeating your own question from earlier to show that he learned from your scolding and asked for consent. A simple nod is all you could manage before slim fingers slowly pulled your pants down, leaving you behind in damp panties. Gojo might have been a virgin, but he held so much confidence if you let him just do his thing and it stole your words. “Let's lay down,” you suggested, feeling awkward since you were both still standing around at his desk, but Gojo agreed, gently picking you up to let you fall down on his messy bed, hovering halfway over you. He propped himself up on one arm while laying on his side, his other hand gently caressed your inner thighs, hoping you spread them further for him and you did. You didn't miss the gulp when his hand brushed against your soaked underwear, amazed by how wet you were for him - a little boost to his already far too big ego. “Please,” you begged breathlessly, unsure what exactly you were begging for, but you yearned to feel his fingers play with your wet pussy. Of course, Gojo flashed you the cockiest smile when you were begging him so desperately, but he didn't want to wait much longer either, so he hooked his slender fingers into the waistband of your panties and peeled them off of you. To help him, you lifted your hips ever so slightly and once the piece of fabric dropped to the floor next to the bed, Gojo was hovering above you, one of his knees placed between your thighs.

He didn't want you to see how nervous he felt, so he kissed you as his hands explored your body once again, but his tongue stopped caressing yours when the tips of his fingers touched your wet folds for the first time. “So wet for me, baby,” he cooed, masking his little shocked reaction, but you simply pulled him closer by the back of his neck to connect your lips once again. Clumsy fingers explored your pussy, sliding through your slit to smear your juices around before gently rubbing your labia. You had to stifle a small laughter when Gojo confidently massaged your labia minora as if he tried to start a fire with the friction. Not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking up and possibly embarrassing him, you gently reached between your bodies to guide his hand to where it's supposed to be, rewarding him with a soft moan. He picked up right away and gently rubbed circles onto your exposed clit until your legs started to shake slightly. His cock was so achingly hard from touching you that he could barely contain himself, but your pleasure was important to him, important to his pride, so he swiftly sank two fingers into you. Your back arched off the mattress at the sudden intrusion and your hands reached for his biceps just to hold onto something.

Gojo gasped when you clenched around his fingers for the first time, feeling just how tight and warm your little cunt was and he started fantasizing about how it would feel around his virgin cock. Would he even last long enough? He started to wonder as the pads of his fingers curled into your pussy - something he's seen in porn. “Fuck- just like that!” You whined out desperately before moans fell from your lips alongside praises. The moment your walls started to flutter around you, Gojo spat onto your clit and let his thumb rub it just like his palm did earlier. You had no idea where he learned it and truth be told, you didn't want to know where he picked that up from, but it was all you needed to tumble over the edge. Your walls gripped tightly onto his fingers as you moaned out his name like a lewd prayer, Satoru’s heart beating faster when he watched you orgasm just from his fingers. Once you came down from your high, you held onto his wrist with desperation, needing him to stop because you started to crave being stretched open by his cock.

When Gojo pulled his long fingers out of your wet cunt, he moaned, your juices staining the bedsheets where you laid and dripping off his fingers. Without thinking about it, he pushed his fingers between his lips to let his tongue get a taste of your sweet nectar and it was enough to make his cock twitch. “You taste so fucking good, butterfly,” the man between your thighs praised in a moan and the lewd scene made your pussy clench around nothing. “I'll make sure you come on my tongue next time, yeah?” He asked cocky and you had to get him down from his arrogant behavior. “Who said there would be a next time?” You asked, sounding rather pissed and he shook his head with a small chuckle. “If you allow me, that is,” he added with a wink that made you roll your eyes. He was so fucking cocky, but you also wanted to see him buried between your thighs, his blue eyes looking up at you while his tongue laps at your core like it's his last meal. You needed to see him drunk on your perfect little cunt, but right now you were dying to have his cock inside of you.

A single glare was shot at the white-haired man before you pulled him on top of your body again, your legs wrapping around his waist and he let his cock slide against your folds for the first time. Gojo’s eyes fell shut as he hissed. Your cunt felt so good against him like this and all he wanted to do was push inside to make you cum around his cock just like you did around his fingers, but your question took him off guard. “You sure you want this?” You asked, making sure he was still fully on board with this, seeing how absent his eyes looked for a moment, but he only nodded, letting his cock rub against your core once again. “You just feel so fucking good, is all,” he admitted, prodding at your needy entrance with his tip. His grip on his cock was almost painful when he lined himself up like that, but he waited for a sign - anything really that let him know he could push in - and then he felt the heels of your feet digging into his firm ass cheeks, making him push in with just one thrust.

Both of you moaned out when his hips were flush against yours, his cock buried so deep inside your awaiting cunt and Gojo almost blacked out.

Your pussy felt even better around his dick than he imagined, but you were so tight it almost hurt to move. “We can stay like this for a moment,” you whispered reassuringly, not trusting your voice to be any louder since your breathing was already ragged. Satoru nodded and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, lazily kissing your sensitive skin while he took deep breaths. Both of you knew he wouldn't last longer than a few seconds if he moved right now and you allowed him to do this at his own pace, not making fun of him or teasing him for once. “You feel so good, Satoru,” you whined out, his cock driving you insane just by being nestled inside of you and just as you slowly started to lose it, Gojo pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back inside, over and over again. His thrusts were sloppy and clearly inexperienced, but the way his tip was hitting all the right spots so deep inside of you made you moan his name, a lewd string of praise and profanities falling from your lips until he stilled after just a few more thrusts. “So close- fuck, I'm gonna-” he warned and you helped him by meeting his thrusts, silently assuring him that you want him to cum inside of you. “Oh fuck, butterfly,” his voice cracked when his hips humped yours, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck once again. His balls felt so heavy, tightening over and over again as his cock pumped you full of his release and you could swear that he's whimpering in your ear as he experienced his first orgasm inside of you and it felt so intense he had to pull out the second it was over.

He watched his cum flow out of your little hole and his first reaction was to stuff it back inside with his fingers, which caught you off guard. “Satoru, so good!” You whined loudly, still feeling so full with his cum inside of you, but the embarrassment and disappointment of not feeling you cum around his cock started to creep up on him. This was something he needed to feel, he felt like he might drop dead if he didn't have you wrapped around his length anymore, so he swiftly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt and lifted you onto his lap once he laid down.

The white-haired man's dick was still rock solid, his tip a deep shade of pink from all the stimulation, but his blue eyes connected with yours. “Please,” he begged and you sunk down on his overstimulated cock, almost feeling bad for him when he gritted his teeth as you sunk down. Your head immediately fell back at the way he filled you up now, the new angle letting him in so much deeper. His name felt heavenly on your tongue when you moaned it over and over, letting him hear how good he made you feel with his cock, but his ears were ringing from the overstimulation, yet he craved your tight cunt grinding and bouncing off his dick. In sheer desperation, he reached out to rub your clit, his thumb swiping over your little pearl as his other hand found its home on your ass, where he kneaded the flesh. And there it was - the fluttering of your walls - a telltale sign of your orgasm rippling through your body, which made Gojo moan breathless. Your cunt sucked him deeper while clenching down like a vice as you almost screamed his name when the knot in your stomach finally snapped, your hips erratically humped his cock and your vision blurred. Satoru had to stop rubbing your clit, his hand now grabbing onto your other butt cheek as he pumped another load deep inside of you before you collapsed onto his chest, almost unmoving while his balls kept pumping more of his seed into you until his orgasm finally ceased.

Both of you laid there, panting and none of you wanted to move or say anything. Gojo simply wrapped his arms around your upper body, slender fingers caressing the skin of your back as you gently kissed his jawline with sweet, almost innocent kisses. Your heartbeat matched his, beating strongly at a fast pace, but you eventually forced yourself up a little bit to look at him. One of your hands cupped his cheek gently. “You okay?” You asked caring, wanting to know if he's satisfied, if his first time was what he imagined and Gojo nodded with a breathless chuckle. “I'm so fucking okay,” he said enthusiastically and his smile was a genuine one this time. “Can we stay like this for a moment?” He asked immediately after, not wanting to let go of you just yet, but you nodded and rested your head back on his shoulder. "Hmm, for a moment, but we need to clean up eventually,” you mumbled into him before kissing his shoulder, and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around you again. “Perhaps we can take a shower together,” he mused, a grin dancing on his lips and you shook your head with a soft laugh before agreeing. Perhaps this was something you could get used to. Perhaps one day Gojo could call you his.

Networks: @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[yrbladie]

♡ ﾟ˖ ॱ ▎HOW DO THEY MEET AND FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU .ㅤPT 1ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱

˖ ࣪ diluc, wriothesley

warnings ：fluff, implied marriage, gn!reader, a tad bit of humor, pining, slight mention of blood (diluc), enemies to lovers kinda situation and teasing (wriothesley), maybe ooc idk, non fluent writer

ㅤThe way you both met was still quite a sore spot for you to talk about. Not because it was in a bad way, of course, it was just a little bit embarrassing, to you at least.

ㅤYou, a new person in Mondstadt, just having moved recently to the City of Freedom, felt like the customs should be learned. And what better costume the people of Mondstadt had than dancing?

ㅤAt least that was what the bard in the tavern told you, as he gathered everyone around together for some dance practice classes.

ㅤLike he said, "there was nothing better than learning together with your friends".

ㅤThe only thing he seemed to have forgotten is the crucial fact that you didn't have any friends yet.

ㅤAt the end of the selection, you were by yourself, completely embarrassed to not have managed to find a partner yet.

ㅤThe bard instead quickly said he had forgotten about you and decided to partner you up with someone himself, stopping you from leaving the place altogether to hide in your house for the next week.

ㅤAnd it just so happened that at the same time, Diluc Ragnvindr, as you knew him, passed by. His red locks of hair swaying in the wind.

ㅤAnd in a second, somehow the bard had managed to drag the man out of his duties to your side, a boyish smirk on his lips. Diluc seemed to be complaining that he had no intention of being part of the event whatsoever, but unfortunately for him, he had no choice in the matter.

ㅤHis murderous glances towards the bard dressed in green did not pass unnoticed by your eyes but you couldn't say anything before that ruby gaze turned to you.

ㅤDespite feeling completely speechless before the man you so heard of, all you could think was how you've never seen such beautiful eyes before.

ㅤIt took a while to notice that he was also staring quietly at you. Just you both, standing awkwardly by each other's side with shy shared glances here and there.

ㅤBut as the bard started the dance practice, every partner having their own fun. Friends, lovers and strangers gathered around under the same music and happiness, the tension between you both finally eased a tad bit, just enough.

ㅤ"Well, since we're already here. Care to share this dance with me, master Diluc?"

ㅤYou asked, a grin dancing in your lips, as you extended one of your hands to him.

ㅤAnd contrary to all of your expectations, having heard only rumors about him, the man they called ruthless and cold, grinned back at you. It was just for a few seconds, but it was more than enough to steal your breath away.

ㅤ"I suppose we could try, yes." And you thought you caught some sort of quiet confidence in his tone. Like he had practiced years for this.

ㅤWell, dancing was never your forte but it was probably not that hard to learn in a few seconds, right?

ㅤThat was what you thought before the missteps started to happen, of course.

ㅤ"Do not mind me." He said, but you felt desperate each time he winced as you stepped on his feet in the middle of a dance step.

ㅤAnd you found yourself admiring him for how well and flawlessly he sometimes managed to dodge your fumbled steps. His composure never wavering as he kept guiding you through a steady dance.

ㅤYou felt like Diluc could as well be your savior. The savior to your already nonexistent reputation that is.

ㅤEven if you stepped on his feet one too many times, instead of being annoyed as he would have been were it anyone else, Diluc found it endearing.

ㅤHe had to lean over you so that you wouldn't see his own small smile as you fretted over him, asking if his feet hurt. It did, but there's no need to mention that.

ㅤAt the end of the dance, Diluc had held your hands one second longer than he should have, and you also didn't feel like ending this so quickly.

ㅤSo you called out for him.

ㅤ"Let's meet again. I think I still don't get this dance."

ㅤAnd he smiled. You had no idea if this was a good or bad thing for your poor heart.

ㅤEveryone knows that fire burns fast and ruthlessly, taking away what it needs before disappearing with the break of dawn. But Diluc's love was the opposite.

ㅤIt was slow, hesitant. Carefully blooming like a fragile Small Lamp Grass in the soft glow of first-time affection. Diluc carried these emotions like a delicate dance of vulnerability and anticipation.

ㅤLike a steady flame, casting a warm glow over the tapestry of you both interwoven destinies.

ㅤThe touch of hands became a silent agreement, a subtle acknowledgment of emotions too profound to articulate. In the gentle ebb and flow of your interactions, a slow crescendo of emotions built, resonating with the innocence of a love untouched by the scars of the past.

ㅤYou both were so oblivious, despite the greetings that turned to hugs that lasted longer each time and the shared glances at each other's eyes for a moment too long. Small things that all seemed to notice but the both of you.

ㅤSo much so, that even Venti, the bard you've grown to know and whose presence was always within the vicinity, one day commented that you should invite him to your wedding next time, and immediately in the next second he was kicked out of the tavern.

ㅤDiluc felt himself slowly learning about the intricate nuances of what love was. Of what it could be.

ㅤYou taught him that love didn't always end on a rainy day, and that your blood would never stain his hands.

ㅤHe grew under your touch, with a newfound confidence of a love well nurtured slowly with the pass of time.

ㅤEven if you stepped on his feet a million times and by the end of this dance you both called love his feet felt beyond salvation, Diluc still knew that his love for you would never waver.

ㅤAnd he would keep teaching you just as much as you do for him, so that one day, when the dawn comes and you're both by the kitchen, quietly sharing smiles and your bodies are once again intertwined in an unfaltering dance, in a time where none of you have to worry about duties anymore, you won't step on him again.

ㅤAs the warm morning dew cast its light over the shared rings on your hands, Diluc didn't want to believe in gods, but he still had to thank Barbatos for bringing you to him on that day. With all your giggles and bright eyed smiles.

ㅤYou were his savior and his redemption, just as much as he was yours.

ㅤWriothesley, the so famously known Duke of the Fortress of Meropide and also your worst declared enemy.

ㅤYour friends would always tell you that it was an exaggeration, that it wasn't that bad. You both seemed to actually work very well together. But you begged to differ from their opinions.

ㅤYou are the secretary in the Palais Mermonia, working directly under orders of the Judge, Monsieur Neuvillette himself. A quite noble position if you were to say so yourself, in fact.

ㅤBut Wriothesley seemed to somehow doubt your high position as he kept asking you to simply do favors for him, taking advantage of the fact that he was 'close friends' with the Iudex.

ㅤYou dreaded each time Monsieur Neuvillette asked you to bring some documents over from the Fortress, meaning you would have to talk with the Duke too.

ㅤAnd you knew, each time you went there, that man had something in store for you. Just like the first time you both met.

ㅤ"You must be the secretary, right? Can you do me a favor then, and bring me a cup of tea?"

ㅤHe had said back then, and there was nothing more you wished than to wipe that wolfish grin from his lips with your own two hands.

ㅤHe seemed to get off on the exact fact that you would snap at him and get angry, like he reveled in your disappointed expressions and bitter stares.

ㅤAnd it seemed that each time you visited, no matter how much you refused — and perhaps that was the exact reason the man decided to try even more— the requests became more and more unusual.

ㅤ"Let me take you out on dinner."

ㅤYou didn't even know how he could be so shameless while asking this, but you still blatantly refused his approaches each time with fierceness.

ㅤAnd you told yourself each time, oh how you hated him.

ㅤInstead, all you didn't know was that Wriothesley thought of you the exact opposite of what you imagined.

ㅤSince the first time the Duke saw you, your tight and serious expression and the bags under your eyes, he had decided that he needed to see you smile at least once, no matter what.

ㅤThat's why he kept sending multiple letters to Neuvillette, practically begging the Iudex to send you once more, telling him of how much of a good work you did unlike all the other secretaries and how he still had forgotten to send him just one more document.

ㅤAll lies of course, but you can't blame a man for trying at least a bit.

ㅤHe had been enamored by you since the first time you walked in his office. The tenacity and unyielding confidence in your steps and speech.

ㅤWriothesley, and perhaps you, hadn't even realized how intertwined you two were, being part of each other's daily lives.

ㅤHadn't even realized how, slowly and steadily, something new was being shaped.

ㅤWith each sharp gaze of yours that made Wriothesley's heart skip a beat, and each argument that would slowly turn into a playful banter that had you almost lose your facade of sternness and harshness, you both were becoming soft for each other.

ㅤUntil one day, you went to visit him yourself, outside of the duties you held so passionately to yourself.

ㅤYou were also surprised at how easy the path was, and how earnest your steps had become after all these months of endless back and forth.

ㅤBut nothing could top the astonished and dumbfounded look that the Duke of Meropide himself had given you when you entered his office, not wearing your usual confident expression and work clothes.

ㅤ"Are… you free right now?"

ㅤYou had asked him, your fingers trembling behind your back, hating how shy your voice sounded for some reason.

ㅤAgainst your expectations, as always, Wriothesley found a way to surprise you. He recovered quickly from the awed state, promptly getting up from his chair at once and making his way to you, a reassuring smile on his face.

ㅤHe had never looked so happy ever since you met him.

ㅤ"For you? Always."

ㅤSo the both of you left the cold office with warmness in your hearts. Together, side by side.

ㅤHe even gave a try to holding your hand once before you slapped it away.

ㅤWell… small, baby steps, he supposed.

ㅤAnd Wriothesley decided that it was always worth it to have to spend the entire night finishing the documents due tomorrow if it meant having you for the entire day.

💙 Part 2 will feature Neuvillette and Thoma.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry

ALASTOR x READER Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances? Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!

In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)

Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.

It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity. 

Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.

However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.

As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too. 

Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke. 

"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame.  In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least. 

Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."

With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."

Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look. 

In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.  

He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)  

And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.

Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too. 

[devnmon]

The Staring Contest // D.D.

Summary: Daryl tries to convince you to rest in bed with him, but when you refuse, he finds another way to try and convince you.

Warnings: suggestive content, 18+ | wc: 2.5k

Daryl was bent over his bike in the garage of your shared home, tightening a bolt on his bike for what seemed like the 10th time of the day. He hadn’t realized time passed as swiftly as it had, noticing the light from outside had dwindled down to darkness.

There were two things Daryl looked forward to when the day came to an end: relaxing for the night, and falling asleep next to you.

His fatigue from working throughout the hours only sparked one thought: where the hell were you?

All desire to finish tinkering on his bike washed from his muscles. Finding you in the home you two shared was the only thing he could think about now.

His tools clinked together as he shoved them away in a random drawer of the workbench he’d been using, before turning to leave the garage.

It was nighttime, which meant you wouldn’t have watch shifts or be caught up doing anything else around the community for the rest of the night. Daryl wondered what kept you away from him for so long, recalling the very moments you’d search for him endlessly on days you were apart for even more than an hour. He knew in his heart, no matter how long each of you spent separated, that you never stopped thought about him throughout the day. His earth-like scent, and the way your skin littered with goosebumps every time he was in the room was so familiar and safe.

I keep you in the front of my mind, always, you've told him before.

Daryl sauntered into the kitchen, immediately spotting you at the table, nose stuffed in a textbook. His steps were silent as always, which was normal for Daryl. On a day to day basis, he was able to enter a room silently and unnoticed, unless he made it known.

But somehow, you always knew when he was around.

“Hi, Dare,” you spoke, without looking back at him.

"Oh, hey, sunshine. What's gotcha down here this late?"

“Just trying to memorize what we need for the garden, so I can help Maggie tomorrow. Wanna know these by heart so I don't have to keep looking back in here. Ugh... this small text is giving me a headache already…”

You didn't have to turn around to know Daryl was right behind you. His voice drifted, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, sensing him step closer to you.

You gasped lightly at Daryl’s presence surrounding you, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“My girl,” he whispered in your ear, “Smartest in the whole world. D'ya know that's so sexy t'me?”

A chill ran up your spine from his gravel tone of voice. It was intoxicating, almost enough to pull your thoughts away from the very interesting plant content.

“Daryl, you’re distracting me.” you chuckled, still staring down at the textbook in front of you.

“Mm.. why don’tcha drop that book an’ come t’bed with me.. It's late, babe.”

“Cause if I don’t know this information, our crops won’t do as well and-”

Your breath hitched as his hands had traveled up your back, massaging your shoulders, thumbs pressing into your stiff muscles.

“Yer tense..” he picked up the soft sigh you let out, and continued, “Like that?”

You sighed, “Yeah… takes the stress out of memorizing all these facts just a little bit.”

Daryl could feel the heat rushing over your skin in waves, realizing so obviously that he was the cause of it.

“I could help ya take out more’a that tension. Happen t’know a few ways, babe..” he pressed a kiss behind your ear, beard hairs tickling your skin.

“N-No.. no, I can’t. I’ve gotta be at Maggie’s early to help her and.." his hands continued, "Oh god that feels good, keep going..”

In your train of thought, you’d forgotten how firm Daryl’s hands were; how they could always bring you pleasure, no matter how he did it. The paired silence between you two continued for a few minutes with his hands and fingers firmly pressing into your back, until his southern drawl broke the silence, focus breaking once he realized your attention wasn’t pivoting from the book.

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I’m gettin’ jealous of yer damn book right 'bout now.”

Finally looking up from the pages beneath your eyes, you chuckled. The obvious boyish smirk on your boyfriend’s face was evident as you turned your head.

“You’re telling me you're getting jealous over some plants? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure anything in this world gets to take your place.” You stated, almost turning back to the book for a second, before cupping his cheek to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You gon’ lose sleep over this? Some silly plants?” He murmured, close enough for you to hear him.

“Hey!” you poked at his chest lightly, “Those silly plants are what’s gonna help Alexandria and Hilltop thrive. It’s not my fault I was blessed with a green thumb. Now, can you please go get some rest? For me?”

He shook his head lightly, scrunching his nose at the idea of not having your full attention. Daryl knew what you were doing for the community was important. He knew that.

But maybe in those end-of-day moments of alone time with you, was when he decided to be selfish.

His intimate time with you was one of his favorite times of day; lips pressed to some part of your body in absolute worship, even if there would be a mark the next morning. Perhaps in favor of a mark being there.

“Nah. Nothin’ better than watchin’ my girl be a genius. Even if I’ll be damn tired t’morrow.” The slight groan in his voice hints towards the fact that he’s probably, definitely been up for way too long hunting and running around Alexandria all day. Straining all those precious muscles of his.

“You’re cute when you're being stubborn. You need to get some rest, too. Can’t have those bags under your pretty eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes’re pretty, now? Saw you avoidin’ em when you kissed me b'fore. Tha’s how I know ya get distracted when ya look at me..”

Of course you got distracted looking at him. He was so perfectly Daryl with that mop of wavy brown hair, piercing eyes that shone as the sea does, and his rugged figure.

“Tell ya what, you win a starin’ contest with me, an’ I’ll go to bed so you can study. But if I win, you gotta drop the books an’ come to bed with me.”

It was then Daryl’s hands left your shoulders, thus your aches returned. He took a seat backwards on a chair across from where you sat you, while you glanced up at him.

“Now Daryl, you’re just being silly. What are we, teenagers?”

Being around you certainly made Daryl feel like a teenager, even in his aged life, which brought a smile to your face.

“If ya don’t wanna see my eyes, jus’ keep starin at that book, I guess.”

You scoffed under your breath, still staring at the book. Only his soft breathing could be heard from across the table. He could’ve sworn you were blushing, but your head was tilted downwards too much to be certain.

“Look at me, sunshine,” he drawled, while you sat too flustered to face him, “C’mon..”

Your eyes trailed up the leather on Daryl's figure, then the tips of his brown hair, the scar across his left cheek, meeting his blues softly. He’d registered the rose tint on the apples of your cheeks immediately afterward.

"Mhm.. So, staring contest?” he lowered his head, making sure you kept eye contact with him.

“I don’t get what the point of this is…” you replied pointedly, shaking your head, a bit amused with the whole thing.

“Point is… ya do this with me or else I’m gonna drag your butt upstairs to bed."

“What’re you gonna do if I refuse?”

You knew Daryl was absolutely capable of carrying you upstairs. There was no doubt about it, he was strong enough to lift you and it wouldn't take much effort on his part.

"When's the last time you weren't workin' yourself overtime for this place, huh? I think you're the one who deserves rest, sunshine." His arms crossed against his chest, muscles practically bulging from under the cloth of his shirt.

"So do you, Daryl. You're just too stubborn to admit it."

The archer sat in silence for a moment, knowing you were right, putting up a stubborn front.

"Fine. I'll participate in your little staring contest. What happens when I win, again?" You both know what'll happen, and Daryl scoffs.

Placing the book down in front of you, your arms rest on the table and he leans in a little further. His scent of pine surrounds your senses, faltering your gaze from him for a minute.

"This ain't gonna work if you don't look at me, sweetheart." It's like you can hear the shit eating grin on his face, and when you look up again, it seemed you were right.

"Let's get this on with, shall we? First one that blinks, loses." You tilt your head in the same fashion as his, lowering your voice a bit.

"Gladly. Ready whenever you are, sunshine." Daryl's drawl had gone from his normal volume to a gravel one. You can tell he tried to throw you off track with it, but nonetheless, the staring contest was on.

Your eyes met his, deep and dark in the lighting. How did everything about him compliment those damn irises of his? Just one glimpse of his gorgeous aura from across the table had you pulling away from your book for more.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Your nose scrunches as the words come out in almost a whisper, delicate with the way you're letting your thoughts drift from just his eyes.

"Hun, you're not much better. Gorgeous, but stubborn as all hell. Think ya might be more stubborn than me." You hear the chuckle, and it takes almost all of your stamina not to steal a glance at his lips. If you did, there was no way you'd be able to contain your eyelids.

You know exactly what he's doing, playing on the way you melt at his every compliment. But you focus on his eyes and what you can see of him in your peripherals. His broad shoulders are scrunched, eyes studying your face.

"Are you trying to intimidate me? Cause it's not going to work.."

"Dunno, think I have a couple ways. You jus' keep on starin' at me."

You huffed a breath and continued looking into Daryl's eyes. He was intimidating enough that you had to find other things to think about rather than his. Because they were so... tantalizing. Electrifying. A simple glance of his would usually bring you, figuratively yet literally, to your knees. Ones that were met from across courtyards of Alexandria, or from the corner of a room during a community meeting. How you were able to hold off on crumbling under that same look now? You had no clue.

To your concern, you hadn't realized the falling of your mind into such deep thoughts about the archer. Your eyes focused back on the wisp of his eyelashes, before realizing his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. Giving his features a once-over, you peeked at the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Are you smirking?" Your arms folded across the table and inched closer to him.

"What else am I supposed t'do? You're too pretty. Happens when I look at’cha for a long time." His elbows propped up his chin in those rough palms of his, and began inching closer as well.

“Speak for yourself, handsome.” It was almost a whisper, but still the tones of your voice caught him off guard. Daryl’s eyes dropped from yours, swiftly to your lips and back up.

“Wish you’d just let me win so I could kiss ya right now.” His deft fingers tapped on the wooden table now, eyelids heavy with impatience and a sultry gaze being shot your way. You want him to lean towards you, within just the proximity to plant your lips on his, but he sits back in his chair instead.

You whisper, “You make me wanna go back to my books and leave you hanging on this damn contest.”

Daryl shrugs, “Ya blink, ya lose. Them’s the rules.”

“I’m not breaking.. do with that what you will, pretty boy.”

“Mhm..." Daryl chuckled to himself for a moment, then stood from his seat. Whatever composure you were trying to keep from showing while gazing at him only overwhelmed you as he rose from the table. No matter how hard he tried, Daryl came off as intimidating, especially when he stood over you, like he was doing right now.

"We're having a contest here.." you began, "Or does you leaving the table mean you forfeit?"

Daryl's fingers dragged along the table, slowly stepping towards you with the same intimidating glare.

"Nope." He stepped behind you, grabbing your chair with both hands to pull it out from the table.

"Daryl- what're you doing?" You giggled, letting the book of plants fall onto the floor, while you were dragged backwards by Daryl's strength.

"If you're not gonna let me win, I'm just gonna have to take you myself." let go of the chair, and immediately knelt down to grasp your body from your seat.

"Hey!" Daryl's large, warm hands grasped your body, while you wrapped your hands around him in surprise. Upon your hands grasping at him, he got a face full of your chest, which he didn't mind at all.

Grunting at your weight in his arms, you turned to him, spotting the faint blush on his cheeks at the view he was currently getting. You chuckled, getting flustered yourself, but still pressed against him. He began towards the stairs, with you easily grasped in his arms. It was during these rare moments that you realized just how strong Daryl was, how easily he could pick you up and carry you without breaking a sweat.

"This what you're gonna do every time you can't convince me?" Your arms wrapped around his neck now, watching his face while he walked. You pressed a few light kisses to his neck in response.

"Nah, I'll let ya win sometimes. But this, you're gonna wanna be there for." The smirk on his face created a warm feeling inside your chest, one you wanted to give him, too.

Daryl continued up the stairs, down the hall towards the bedroom you shared with him. Your arms wrapped around the nape of Daryl's neck, lips peppering kisses across the expanses of his chest. Once he'd walked to the bedroom door, he kicked it open and made his way towards the bed.

He softly placed you down on the edge of the mattress, waving you to lay back on the bed with his hand. Daryl kicked off his boots, undoing his belt before crawling towards you on the duvet.

In a moment he hovered over you, smirk lingering on his lips like liquor.

"Now, I dare ya, take your eyes off me. See what happens."

You were in for an especially long night.

A/N: Thanks for reading:) If you enjoyed this fic, please show support by reblogging!

[waayfo]

TO THE LONG FORGOTTEN PROPHECY neuvilette x gn!reader

summary speaking of prophecy— of course the fountaine citizens immediately thinking about the prophecy about fontaine's future that always haunting their sleep, remembering that what happened in the future involved their own lives. but there is one prophecy that almost (or even everyone?) everyone forgets; the prophecy regarding the hydro dragon— who has always remaining alone will meet his mate.

⋆ 𖦹 ˚｡⋆ fluff, no plot/plotless, light angst, reader is not traveler, fontaine archon quests spoilers, there might be some ooc, cross posting on AO3. a/n : im trying to get out of my comfort zone by not using google translate too much! so pls be easy on me T~T (yes english is not my first language) my draft suddenly disappeared & i had to write t again

the discernible hints of the prophecy starting to become reality didn’t went unnoticed by fontaine citizens, as they started to feel anxious— even scared to death.

and of course, mortals being themselves always helplessly blamming their beloved archon. mouths vociferate loudly as they continue blamming her for not being able to do anything. but oh little did they know about what struggles she’s been facing all this time merely for the sake of her own folks, that they couldn’t even face it themselves. but they just keep howling like wolves.

‘…that all people from fontaine are born with sin that cannot be absolved; one day, the waters of fontaine will rise and the sinful people will all be dissolved into the waters, and only the hydro archon will remain; weeping on her throne- only then will the sins of the people be washed away.’

and after the prophecy has passed, the trial of sins and a 500 year long show that is finally coming to an end, and the hydro dragon finally forgiven their sins.

and when the spotlights in the opera went out one by one, the seats are empty, and furina finished her part at the performance. she remained silent. the endeavor she faced all this time is finally gone. and now the theatrical has ended, what will she do now?

a small performance that performed by furina herself must be met with painful reality; she has to go. leaving the place where she had been living, in order to start a new beginning.

in the morning she started packing her things, helped by her venerated partner— neuvilette. but she suddenly remembered something that focalor had told her before.

“ah, well.. neuvilette,” she hesitantly said. “i want to remind you about a… prophecy that i think you forgot.”

one of neuvilette's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "oh? and what prophecy is that?" he’s sure that he never forgot about an important prophecy.

‘….alas! it will rain heavily one day; the hydro dragon cry to bid farewell to his dearest friend all-the-time. only to be changed by a rainbow, now that he finally found his mate.’

“that…” neuvilette give her a heavy sigh. “i don’t believe in that prophecy.”

“why? don’t you know that it’s raining heavily outside?” he peeked at the window. and like furina said, it was raining very hard outside, and he knew why. “it will never happen,” he replied.

furina only smiled at him. because deep down in her heart, she believed that her friend would find the perfect partner. as a reward for his hard work until now.

“well then, neuvilette. goodbye and…. thank you.”

insignificant annoyance were heard with every step neuvilette takes. why does it keep raining? they said. and a small child asked his mother innocently, ‘why does the hydro dragon keep crying?’

neuvilette could only stare at his reflection in the water distorted by raindrops. even if lightning started to strike, it would not dare to approach him. for the first time in a long time, he felt worldly tranquility he had longed for.

and that's why he chose to ignore the figure standing beside him. neuvilette didn't intend to glance at that person, just to see their figure. until…

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!” that sentence was like a mantra for neuvilette. for a moment he thought that the voice of the person beside him was calming and soothing.

so neuvilette take a glance at the person beside him. time seemed to stop, neuvilette's heart was caught. the person's eyes shone amidst the darkness that accompanied neuvilette, they looked at him with worry. they’re captivating, their beauty is surreal that he’s sure that he’s dreaming right now.

and suddenly, the rain stopped. a rainbow slowly began to appear from the other end. maybe, just maybe, he can believe this one prophecy.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: the day I don’t write about a sunshine!reader is the day one of you needs to action a welfare check on me bc I bawled my eyes out writing this angsty shit fr

warning: mentions of Maeve (rip queen x)

A Chance

It was strange, getting to know someone through the words of friends, before being able to actually meet that person. The board had requested you transfer to the BAU while Spencer was in prison, and you were only ever meant to be there as a placeholder of sorts, to lend your expertise to the team that struggled in their dear friend’s absence. It was a temporary arrangement, but from the moment Emily Prentiss referenced you to Spencer during a visit to him in prison, he could see in her eyes that your presence had already proven itself invaluable. 

The tales she told him of you were silly things that made him laugh, and that was something he had long forgotten how to do. Spencer had no idea what you looked like, because you had insisted that you didn’t want to take a visitation slot from someone that he knew; a notion Emily had passed on to him when he had asked, and his sombre heart had ached from beneath the rubble in his chest, the ruins that once housed a heart of gold. He had no way of picturing you, but he did, he tried. Hearing the jokes you had told the team through Emily, seeing the enjoyment you brought to his friends simply by talking about you, hearing of your efforts to bring smiles to everyone on the team like it was second nature for you. In every way, you made it clear you had no intention of taking Spencer’s place, you were only there to take care of those he loved by making them laugh again, and somehow, that endless stream of kindness reached Spencer, too. Flowing through prison bars, through tense muscles, to the cold, grey, shattered fragments of his heart.

On the day of his release, you had conducted the team in arranging a surprise party for him at the office, just a small get-together for him and his closest friends, who you understood were his family. Your efforts did not go unnoticed to the genius, and neither did the absence of you, amongst his friends. 

“Is (Y/N) here?” Spencer had asked.

And David Rossi had shaken his head with a fond smile. “No, she insisted she didn’t want to impose or put you in the position of having to meet someone new, so she’s at home, but she’ll be back in tomorrow.”

You had done it again, without even being there to do it. You had single-handedly reached into Spencer’s chest and lifted those fragments out of the rubble, dusting them off and setting them down gently atop the rubble, letting the sun shine on his heart again.

The next day, Spencer had arrived early at the office for a multitude of reasons. To sit at his desk in the silence of the morning, with nobody around, just to feel back where he belonged, the serenity of it; that was one of the reasons. And as he sat, contemplating that very notion, another reason for his early arrival stepped into the office. Though he had never seen you before, Spencer’s heart recognised you immediately, and he stood from his desk, the softest smile on his face as he watched you. It took you several seconds to acknowledge his presence, what with your big headphones covering your ears and a large pile of boxes in your arms. Spencer watched you like you were a silent film, an enchanting and nostalgic wonder that he had never been lucky enough to lay his eyes on before. It was only when you had set your things down and turned to his desk, with just one large box in your arms, that your eyes widened. And Spencer continued to watch as the brightest smile he had ever seen blossomed on your face, like the first flower he’d seen after a year-long winter. 

“Spencer! Hello!” You greeted him cheerfully, removing your headphones. “These are for you! Emily said that you liked ones with chocolate frosting and sprinkles best?” You had asked, setting the large box down on his desk in front of him.

He stared down at it, and you, in absolute wonder. How could you possibly be real?

“(Y/N)...” Spencer spoke your name to you for the first time, having rehearsed it and played around with the way it sounded in his mind during particularly lonely nights in his cell, but finding that it sounded different when he said it to you. 

“I can’t thank you enough. For this, for the party yesterday, for the happiness you’ve brought the team- thank you.” Spencer said, his voice as gentle as he could make it, afraid that the slightest of harsh tones could shatter the fragile ray of sunshine that stood before him.

“Oh, that’s alright! You don’t need to thank me, not for any of it, the team have all been so welcoming to me, and they talk about you all the time, you know.” You beamed up at him.

“They do?” Spencer asked, his words unexpectedly shy. 

You nodded fervently. “Everyday, they had a new tale to tell me about you, a new fact to share that they learned from you- honestly, I feel like I was getting to know you before I’d even met you!” The chuckle that passed your lips was that of an angel.

You had been getting to know him in the same way he had been getting to know you. What did you think of the things you heard? Did you think of him as often as he thought of you? Were you as curious about him? Did thoughts of him make you smile, in the way thoughts of you made him, when he would walk back to his cell after a visit from Emily? 

A lump formed in Spencer’s throat. How different is he now, to the person you were getting to know? Will prison have made him unrecognizable to you, too? 

But as he gazed down at you and searched your eyes, unable to find a single shred of judgment, or fear, he felt hope. A glimmer, a spark, beneath the rubble.

“Emily’s been telling me about you, too.” He managed to reply, his voice quiet in a way he hoped you wouldn’t address.

“All good things, I hope!” You chuckled again, busying yourself at your desk and looking over your shoulder at him. 

It felt normal. Like a conversation between two old friends. Spencer felt comfortable, for the first time since…even his eidetic memory faltered in recalling. 

“All good things.” He assured you, a smile playing on his lips and in his chest.

Somehow, it came as a surprise to you when the team requested you join the team permanently. You had enjoyed your time with them tremendously, but you had never suspected they enjoyed you just as much, enough to ask you to stay. They had waited to ask you, wanting Spencer to meet you first and give his verdict. He couldn’t form his thoughts into coherent strings of sentences, but the smile on his face after meeting you told the team that he shared their resounding 'yes'. 

And when he saw the way you lit up, the happy tears in your eyes as the team asked you if you’d consider making your position permanent, Spencer grinned. Your tearful eyes landed on him, sensing that he had agreed to ask you to stay, and that one thought made the tears in your eyes cascade down your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You had blubbered, gaze traveling across each and every member of the team, but lingering on Spencer in a way that made him question whether his IQ points were evaporating, leaving his head emptier, his mind happier, with the simple joy of you, smiling at him like that.

With your place on the team set in stone, you all began working on cases together, quickly discovering that your true place was at Spencer’s side, much to his delight and dismay in equal measure. You made him smile like nobody else, made him feel normal, seen, for who he was, who he could be as long as you were around to encourage a side of him he had learned to keep well hidden, to protect himself. Even his mother, on his first visit to her since getting out of prison, had commented that he seemed so much more himself. How had you reminded him of who he was, when you had not known who he was before? Spencer felt selfish for collecting your smiles, treasuring them all to himself. He wondered if he had any right to make you smile at all. He was unworthy of causing a smile like yours. And there was guilt, so much guilt, the moment you were out of sight and he became excruciatingly aware of just how much more you deserved. An angel like you, walking on hot coals beside him, burning the soles of your feet but still smiling up at him like he’s worth it. 

Tonight, the pain is worse. To celebrate a particularly gruelling case being solved, you suggested a garden party at your house, and Spencer had been the very first person you asked to attend. As if he needed any further proof to his ongoing theory of it being physically impossible for him to ever deny you of anything. And here he stands, in your garden, nursing a drink and watching you just as he did the first time he saw you. There is music playing, and you are aware of his presence, but you are still the same vision to him, all sound fading until you are that same silent film. Until your laugh breaks the barrier; a sound he is certain could reach his ears from miles away. Through any sea of other voices, he can pinpoint yours. 

He is nothing more than a shadow, standing alone, a few feet away from everyone else, on the outside of their bubble but peering in just to torture himself. The smiles on his friends faces, on yours, as you all dance around together, dressed to the nines and laughing like it’s the silliest joy you’ve ever known. Spencer looks at the perfect image before him until he can bear it no longer, and he sets his drink down on the nearest table. Enough, he thinks to himself. 

Nobody notices when a shadow slowly fades out of view. 

He walks through your home, towards the front door, the scent of your perfume trying to persuade him to stay. The trinkets on your shelves, the art on your walls, every single thing exuding you in the most beautiful way; he knows he could stand right here, in your hallway, just drinking you in until he died of old age, but he keeps walking. Shoes heavy, legs of lead, he trudges out of your front door and onto the street, under the same stars as you and feeling the weight of how little he deserves to share such a thing. 

Every step further away from where you are kills him just a little more. He wonders how far he’ll make it, whether he’ll manage to reach the sea before he sinks to his knees and lets himself wither away entirely, the force of you no longer binding his atoms and holding him to this Earth; an echo that you have been selfless enough to maintain, no matter the cost to you. The cost, Spencer is sure, has been insurmountable. How can it not have been? A burden as heavy as him, a stain you can’t wash out of your life that somehow exacerbates every time you check in on it, a husk that you remind how to live, simply by existing. 

Seven steps from your front door, his legs start to falter, wobbling beneath him under the weight of the crime he has committed and the sentence he serves now, for stringing you along like he’s ever been worthy of walking the same ground. His trembling hands grip garden fences as he forces himself onwards, away, away.

“Spencer?”

A vision, a mirage, the perfect and only balm to restore his strength enough to stand up straight. Thank you, thank you, his mind spins, continuing to walk until your footsteps reach his ears.

“Where are we going?” 

And there it is, that smile, looking up at him like you can fix everything in his world, and you have. Again. 

He can’t tell you, he can’t possibly speak such heartbreaking thoughts aloud. He can’t do anything that’ll cause your smile to even falter, not now, when his heart breathes to life and rises from the rubble, reaching for you.

“Just…needed some air.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse, and he can tell from the look in your eyes that you see right through him, see that something is wrong, but you don’t pry. 

Instead, you do what feels right to you.

For the first time, you slip your hand into Spencer’s and squeeze it, so gently. His hand all but engulfs yours, but he can feel every inch of your skin that touches his, and his heart soars. 

“Okay, you wanna walk round the block?” You ask, your words casual, gentle, and holding no judgement, like always.

Spencer can only nod, his IQ reduced to zero because you are holding his hand and he cannot possibly think about anything else. 

Taking his agreement, you start walking, and he walks in step beside you. On the same ground, under the same night sky, in a silent film that he feels he is a part of now. 

For a few minutes, neither of you say anything. Only casting shy smiles at each other every so often, until you decide to speak words that alter Spencer’s very brain chemistry.

“You know, you’ve become my favorite person in the world.” Your voice is quiet, almost bashful, in a way he has never heard you speak before.

Spencer frowns, his eyebrows knitted together by the confusion and bliss that swirls within him in a perfect storm, but your hand is still holding his, so he is still incapable of speaking. 

“Every new thing I come to learn about you, I adore more than the last.” You continue. “And I didn’t know what to do with that, at first, because I didn’t want to drop my feelings on you and give you no choice but to address them, I didn’t think that would be fair. So I’ve thought about it, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay.” You smile up at him in a way that makes his heart splutter frantically. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, because even if you don’t, I’ll still adore you just as much, and I’ll help you find the person that you come to adore in that way.” The sincerity in your eyes very nearly breaks Spencer in two, and he stops walking.

He is at an agonizing crossroads. His eidetic memory forces him to relive his tragic romantic history, from the date he asked JJ on that she invited Penelope to, to the worst day of his life, when the only girl he thought that would ever love him, was murdered right in front of him. Maeve. He never even got to hold her hand like this, say the words he’d always wanted to, thank her for giving him the chance, for letting him love her until her last moments, and beyond that. 

Tears gather in Spencer’s eyes as he looks down at you and thinks of Maeve. He had always thought that she was it, that she was his one and only chance at love, at a family, at the life he had always dreamed of, and that was out of his reach because she was. But as he gazes down at you, feels your hand squeeze his again in a way he never got to feel with Maeve, he realizes that this is different, that he is different. There is no way to know how his life would differ if he had not lost Maeve, how long they would have lasted, if at all; he stopped plaguing himself with the what-ifs long ago, settling with the agony that it was his fault, that he deserved to suffer, and he deserved to do so alone. 

But you are here. Right here. 

Smiling up at him like he’s worth more than he feels he is, pouring your heart out to him and not expecting anything in return, just wanting him to know that you adore him, because that’s who you are. And he is the person you adore. He is not without love, he is not a lost cause, his fate is not sealed. 

You are here, with Spencer, because you have chosen to be. You adore him as he is now, and he doesn’t even know who that is, but he doesn’t care anymore, because as long as you adore him, he’s okay with that. 

The tears gathering in his eyes break past the barriers and slip down his stubbled cheeks, a small smile curling at his lips, before it blossoms just as yours did the first time you saw him, into a grin, and then a quiet laugh. He looks up at the stars and takes a moment to thank them for allowing him to stay here with you, and then he takes hold of your other hand, holding both of your smaller ones in his. 

“You’ll have to give me time to formulate my thoughts into words, but for now, let me just say that I…” Spencer takes a deep breath, blinking back the tears that dare blur his perfect vision of you, and then he sighs, shaking his head. “Adore isn’t a strong enough word.” He smiles down at you. “I’m enchanted by you, and I’d be willing to challenge any belief that tries to advise me against worshipping you.”

The chuckle that passes your lips as your eyes glaze over is the most beautiful sound Spencer has ever heard, and he is definitely not biased, because he absolutely has not thought that every time he’s heard you laugh.

“Very profound, Doctor Reid.” You muse. “So, where does that leave us?”

The smile on Spencer’s face is dazed, lost in the dream of you. The stars shine above and the ground sighs below, the universe relieved to have finally guided the two of you to where you were always intended to be. 

Your question is a good one - an excellent one, Spencer would argue, solely because you were the one to ask it - and it takes several seconds for his whirring mind to piece together the words to correctly phrase the sentiment he feels deep within the heart that you have taken the time to intricately piece back together with the same gentle hands that hold his now. Eventually, though, the words find him, and he parts his smile to let that same heart speak to you.

“I honestly don’t know, but anywhere that you are, is where I want to be.”

[callmecrazy4u2]

Aventurine x Reader NSFW A Casino Game of Hide & Seek

Imagine: Not on your wanted list was being Hunted down by the IPC & Hooking up with Aventurine in the corner of the casino simply because he is lucky enough to get away with it unnoticed.

Tag: Hide & Seek in a casino, keep quiet, Love-hate relationship, I just wanted darling to break his glasses lol

Aventurine cornering darling with a kabedown arms caging his darling in a confrontation against a corner of a cold casino machine.

Extra points if that one gives the winning ticket to the lucky recipient on the other side distracting all from your inevitable confrontation

Back up against one of the big slot machines in the dark corner while ppl pass by too busy and high off their lucky pulls to notice either one you.

"Darling you know I'm too lucky to lose you" Aventurine would coo purple glasses glinting as he suavely pulled them off with a flick of the wrist.

Darling in a futile effort to distract and escape snatching and throwing the glasses to the ground with a crunch in front of him. Before being prepared to run again and as petty revenge.

"Nice try but not enough" teases Aventurine hypnotic eyes swirl and darken as he cages her again in and leans in close.

" If that's how you want to play it dear" before Throwing out a dice like ipc invention to ensure some privacy for what to come...

Yandere!Aventurine smirks before diving in to capture your lips to kiss the grin you had for the small victory on your face

Hot breath on necks leading to love bites and kisses down the columns of each other's throats.

Heated kisses and messy entangling of limbs

Yandere!Aventurine's hand hiking up their waist and holding darling up against the cold casino machine while heated hips pressed together fervently for more...

A futile buck upward a snap of hip and muffled cries in forgotten corner of the casino that luck and IPC ingenuity affords Aventurine

[akutasoda]

title - 'my baby, here on earth / showed me what my heart was worth'

╰➜you never really understood what it meant to love or to be in love but after meeting them, you think you understand now

dedicated to - luocha!

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst?, awkward encounters, sonnet length - 836

a/n: req an anon!

you never were cognizant about love. it eluded you, you'd always seen couples and heard from close one's about their experiences with the feeling, but you never got it. it wasn't that you were ignorant about it, it was simply that the whole idea of being in love with someone didn't strike a chord with you.

by no means was there a rush to find that special somebody, you were content to go about your life without - at least without for now, perhaps someone would come along later. among everyday life you barely paid attention to the emotion, it never crossed your mind.

however it wasn't entirely possible to avoid the subject, especially when it came up in conversations that, admittedly, happened most when you met with friends. they always pried for information, eager to know about everything since they last saw you - they all understood “love” or even had loved ones themselves. ultimately, it never bothered you. it wasn't a priority and there was much more that required more attention.

everyday life passed in blurs, filled with memories and emotions - or that was how it was until you met him. luocha didn't exactly fit in with the locals on the luofu, from his attire that reflected his homeland to the large coffin that he carried around. as he walked down the streets of the luofu he certainly turned many heads and drew whispers from various natives mouths, the same could be said about your friends.

as soon as one of them saw the mysterious blondette, they turned to the group and whispered about the stranger. you didn't want to be rude by staring, unfortunately you couldn't help but atleast have a small glance - that was all it took.

admittedly, he was rather elegant. there was something about him that intrigued you, that drew your attention towards him - to the point that one of your friends nudged you because you'd been staring to the point that luocha looked over to you.

turning away as quick as you could, looking toward the ground with a face practically flushed red. fortunately he didn't take the time to stop and acknowledge you as he had over things to do but you knew your friends certainly weren't going to get you to live it down.

although it was more prominent that there was something about the man that was fascinating to you - that made your awkwardness about the situation worse. it certainly was something you could only pray was forgotten by everyone else and yourself.

however it seemed as though the aeons themselves were making sure that you never forgot about the experience. as the very next day, you spotted the same blondette right outside where you needed to be. taking a deep breath, you sped up your pace and looked down at your phone in order to seem distracted - praying that he would've forgotten all about the other day.

it wouldn't go unnoticed to you that, as you desperately tried to walk past, your heartbeat increased and everything became much more prominent around you - surely it was just nerves?

fortunately, it worked. successfully ignoring the blondette and making your way to your destination. you secretly hoped that nothing like that ever happened again, desperately wishing to forget the whole experience - today and the other day. what were the chances of ever seeing him again?

unfortunately, luck was not on your side. as later that day, in a rush, you ran straight into the very same person - immediately you knew you were definitely never living any of this down. before you could even splutter out apologies, luocha offered out a hand to help you up before asking if you were okay.

it was a relief that he was understanding - and never brought up the other day, perhaps you really were overthinking. somehow, a very awkward introduction to the interaction with him led to an unexpectedly long conversation. mainly your questions about his business of the luofu as again, he didn't exactly fit in with the locals.

the more you talked, the more your curiosity was piqued by the man. it felt as though the two of you could talk forever but you both knew that was impossible. a part of you hoped that you could see luocha again but he told about his profession as a travelling merchant and so you doubted he'd be around long.

you never understood love, a foreign concept that barely concerned you. however now, you think you understood. it sounded absolutely insane but you couldn't help but let the initial curiosity about luocha bloom into a warm tenderness.

unluckily, he was a wandering merchant. someone who wasn't destined to stay on the luofu long and so a decision had to be made. love made people do crazy things, you understood why now, but would you take that risk?

[perfectlyoongi]

A PLACE TO EXIST

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... yoongi only existed with you. that was the only reality he knew. so, how could he handle life without you by his side?

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... yoongi x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... angst. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 1k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... just 1k of pure and heartbreaking angst, pls do enjoy ♡ (if u saw this on bsd fandom no u didnt).

Tiredness.

Nothing but pure tiredness.

An overwhelming sea dragged with it a tremendous weight of pure darkness. Emptiness. Nothingness. ———

Yoongi stared blankly at the wall.

Rays of sunlight painted rainbows on the white wall that had captured Yoongi’s attention. Indescribable shapes danced freely on the flat surface, mesmerizing Yoongi with the ease with which one delves into one’s thoughts.

Silence.

Nothing but pure silence.

A mesmerizing agony grew inside Yoongi, like an addiction too pleasurable to quit, consuming his soul, bittering his heart.

What had happened?

It all happened too fast for Yoongi. The date, the promises, the laughter, the departure, the after, the ———

Emptiness, silence, nothingness.

Yoongi didn’t move. Maybe because of the spell cast by the sun or maybe because of the fear that, if he moved, he would let all the pieces of his heart fall to the floor and be consumed by the emptiness, the silence, the nothingness of that room.

What could he do? Now that all was lost, now that everything had succumbed to the cruelty of time and fate, what could Yoongi do?

Just stare.

Just remain still.

Just hope that his immobility would be enough to keep your image intact in his mind, in his heart, in his soul.

Perhaps, according to his calculations and logic, if he remained still, unnoticed by time and invisible to destiny, perhaps then, in his exact science, all time would stop and, as such, your image would remain unharmed.

Unharmed in the silence. Unharmed in the middle of nothingness. Unharmed in the middle of ——— But always, eternally, unharmed.

You and only you.

It was only you he had to protect and it was you he lost. In the void. In the nothingness. In the ---

The sun’s rays remained intense, focusing all their heat, all their security, all their joy on that damn wall that had enchanted Yoongi. It was insulting. So much light, so much shining, so much breath passing straight through Yoongi without even letting him absorb a particle of its pure, beautiful, hopeful nature.

It was as if he didn’t deserve this light.

It was as if he was destined for the void, for the silence, for the nothingness, for the ———

It was as if Yoongi’s existence was lost in the weaving of his destiny. Forgotten by eternity, tortured by immortality. With no existence. With no place. With nothing.

A loss. A pain. A longing. An agony that transcended his body, that corrupted his heart, that destroyed his soul. A hurt that came from the void, consuming his being, ruining his entity, depriving him of his existence.

A place to live. A place to be. A place to exist.

Something that wasn’t emptiness, silence, nothingness.

As he looked at the rainbows painted by the sun, the need for a home dawned on Yoongi, making him breathe deeply, heavily, wistfully.

A house.

Nothing more than a simple house.

A place where Yoongi could exist, a place that Yoongi could fill, a space that wasn’t a vast expanse of nothing and that showed Yoongi, that assured and reminded him, that he still existed.  

In a place. In a house. In a home.

Yoongi’s existence became illusory. Captive of everything that was and everything that existed. Hostage to the void, to the nothingness, to the ——— Only melancholy filled Yoongi’s being, overflowing his heart with the weight of memory and the pain of nostalgia.

Between spaces and times, between winds and sun rays, between memories and dreams, your memory lived. You had a residence in Yoongi. Always. Continuously. For as many eternities as he lived.

You live in Yoongi’s memory. You had a space. You had a house. You had winds and sunbeams. You were a ghost of memories and promises you once shared with Yoongi.

But even so, you were something. You continued to exist. In the void that dwelt within Yoongi, yes – but still, you were, you existed.  

And Yoongi had nothing.

Just emptiness. Just silence. Just ——— A vast expanse of nothingness. A sea of ​​non-existence. A horizon of absence.

Absence of a home, of comfort, of reality. A reality that would not fragment him to the incurable particles of universes of pure ——— A truth that was not treacherous, that would not lead him through the same void where he lost you.

A sigh. A lament. A plea.

Wasn’t it enough that he lost you? Why would he run through the swamps of darkness and get lost within their great, vast void? Couldn’t he have peace? Why did he had to be constantly enveloped in the silence of his soul?

Why couldn’t Yoongi rest?

The darkness of the nights spread across his room, cleansing all traces of your touch and essence and depositing all the trash you left trapped in Yoongi’s sheets into his soul.

A dirty soul. A corrupt soul. A non-existent soul.

There was no hope for Yoongi.

There was no home to shelter Yoongi.

There was no light to fill all the emptiness that consumed Yoongi.

Everything was lost. Carried by the stars and broken by the universe. No hope or dream to survive. An apocalypse of nothingness. A destruction of emptiness. A revolution of ——— A calamity caused by your departure.

The departure from a home. The  departure of an existence. The departure of…

All taken by you. Everything destroyed by you. Everything extinguished by you.

Home usurper! Demolisher of existences! Carrier of voids!

You and only you.

It was only you he loved and it was you who abandoned him. In the void. In the nothingness. In the ———

What fate awaited Yoongi now, when everything had been lost? What could he expect from his existence, when he saw it being consumed? By you. By the void. By the silence.

What could he do? Now that everything was destroyed, now that everything had been stolen by your vile memories and dark promises, what could Yoongi do?

Just stare.

Just remain still.

Just wish he could find a new place to exist.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[fushiguwu]

who is him? getou suguru

CHAPTER 1 from the Summer Fever's serie!

ft. dilf!getou and college student!reader

warnings: use of alcohol, making out, slight smut, reader's drunk but conscious, age gap, breath play, soft dom!getou, use of the names princess, lady, pretty girl.

words: 1.9k

MINORS DNI!

A couple years ago, your mom got married again. A nice, handsome and funny man. She really loved him, and he seemed to be a nice guy; not too young nor old, at his late thirties, a highschool teacher, Gojo looked way younger than he actually was — physically and mentally. They met on a dating app and a few months later got married. You thought that, maybe, people their age are afraid to never find someone again, and just get married as soon as they get into a relationship. Their wedding party was beautiful, for as long as you can remember: lots of friends and family members, some people you’ve never seen in your life, some people you wish you’d never seen in your life, but beautiful. Your mom looked happy, Gojo looked happy, so that’s all that matters. Some days after that, you’ve left the country to go to a fancy French university, thanks to your exchange scholarship — and your mom’s money. That was good to her too, she deserved to live a nice married life, you thought. 

You’ve lost some holidays, but sometimes, like this one, you could finally get home, after two years. God bless summer breaks. You spent the most time sleeping, the uber driving home too. You missed your mom and her dog — not Gojo, an actual dog. But, yeah, a little bit of him too. It was good to be home, to breathe the motherland’s air and to relax by the huge pool in your childhood’s backyard. 

While taking your sunbath, Gojo had told you that tonight a few friends would come by, and you didn’t have to feel uncomfortable, they were just going to drink some wine and talk about sports; apparently, that’s something that happens monthly, and for your lucky, it had to be at the day you got home and wished for some peace of mind. 

So, for the time you got off the pool and they came, by six in the afternoon,you didn’t leave your room. Not until an angel sends you a message: 

 “Hey, I’ve heard u in town, wanna hang out?”

So you text your angel —Nobara, back, saying you’d be there in an hour. You and Nobara have known each other since high school, even with the loss of most of your friends due to distance, you two kept in contact as much as you could. You’ve forgotten to talk about your arrival, what a bad friend. Lucky for you, your mom absolutely loves Kugisaki and probably texted her about your comeback one week before. 

After getting ready, you go downstairs to call an uber. Gojo’s friends were all over the living room, laughing and drinking. Just some old men doing old men stuff. You pass through them as unnoticed as you could possibly be. Until Gojo saw you and screamed out your name, just when you approached the exit.  He then goes to you, with the open smile he always keeps on face, “Hey, guys, this is my stepdaughter, she came from France today!” you couldn’t be more ashamed. You say a shy “hi” and they were all smiling at you like you were a baby or something.

“Gojo, she’s at the age of Getou’s girls, they could’ve been friends! So sad, Getou ain’t here today.” a man with blonde hair says so, and you give him a little smile. 

“Yeah, yeah of course! We should talk about it with him, right? Isn’t their birthday soon?” Gojo says, electric with the possibility of you being friends with his friend’s daughters. 

“Hum, yeah, it would be nice, I guess”, you slowly get away from Gojo, “but, hum, I really gotta go now. Thanks, Satoru! Nice to meet you guys!” and like a flash you disappear out the door, leaving your stepdad with a huge question mark above his head. “These young girls… Always in a hurry…” Gojo says, more to himself than to the other men in the room.

When you got to the bar, Nobara was already there, waiting for you. “Why did you take so long?” She looked upset. You try to tell her about Satoru’s drunkenness, the men in your house, the shame you’ve got yourself into, but she’s bringing you inside, and the music was so loud you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. She, then, waves to someone, and lets go of your hand. How she found someone through that crowd, you would never know. “Wait here for a minute, imma get us some free drinks, ‘kay? Stay here!” and just like that she disappeared through the sea of people, leaving you by yourself. You literally just arrived and Nobara’s already gone, goddamnit. 

So you waited for her for what seemed like hours —ten minutes, but every minute you kept asking if that’s what you came for: to stay still in the middle of the dance floor, like a souvenir. If you knew it’d be like this, would've stayed at home with those drunk dudes watching football. After a couple more minutes, you give up on your friend and head up to the bar. 

You ask the bartender for a beer, but it just didn't feel enough. and then another one, which you found tastier than the last. And another one, the beer started tasting funny. And when you were about to ask for more, a little bit dizzy, you felt a huge silhouette approaching you. 

“I’d like to pay for your drink, if you don’t mind” you hear a low male voice say, just behind your body as he puts his wallet on the counter, in front of your bottle. You look up at him through your shoulders, his face a few inches from yours, his smell-like-expensive wood perfume flooding your thoughts and even by the lowlights you could say he looks way too good — or maybe you were just drunk and under the effect of his cologne.

“Shouldn’t you ask me if I’d like a drink first? How inelegant.” You were clearly affected by the alcohol, and he could tell. He, then, smirks down at you with his whole teeths.

“Well, it seems that you enjoy a drink way more than pretty ladies like you usually do” and you flushed, as for him to think you’re pretty, and for seeing that you are a bit drunk. But you wouldn't give in so easily like that. You frowned and pouted up at him.

“And what do you know about me, huh? What if I am no lady?” you sit now facing him from down, with a weird feeling on your stomach, you didn't know if wanted to throw up or if he was just making you nervous. He gets closer, turning your swivel bar chair around for him, opening your legs a little so his body could be in the middle. Go up your body with his hands gently and slowly from your side thighs till your waist. The weird feeling now manifests through all your body, like a hundred butterflies were inside you, trying to come out. It just grows stronger as his face approaches your ear, you couldn't move a single finger under his spell.

“Yes, I don’t know anything about you, princess. Please, forgive my anti-chivalry”. his hands tightened but it still felt so dearing you could melt by it only. He held your chin, looking deep into your dizzy eyes. You looked so helpless, so given in his arms, even with all those people around, you could only see him and him only. “But, if you ain’t no lady, it leaves only the pretty, then”. You bite your lip, unknowing what to say to him after that. Anyone else saying that and you would have absolutely cringed, but from his mouth it just sounded so right. Everything he said sounded so intrinsically right that you felt like agreeing blindly even if he called you for a bank robbery. You felt a bit more dizzy every time he’d speak with his such charming deep voice close to your neck.

“Would you like to know, then?” A few seconds passed by for your courage to appear, and you couldn’t help noticing his lips forming a nasty smile. His eyes travel yours, going from one to another, not sure if he should do the next move. You looked so helpless under him, he thought. Your eyes wander through his lips, and eyes, and nose, and every single detail you could get within the low beam — close to none. Without a word being said therefore, like the permission was implicit, he puts his fingers on your chin and kisses you, sweetly, slowly, just like you deeply craved for. And, just like that, all those butterflies disappeared. You enlace your hands on his neck—feeling his silky long hair made you gasp into his mouth. It all seemed so right, just like a fever dream your drunk and feverish head was making up to you.

His tongue touches yours in a sinful yet heavenly dance, leaving the sweetness behind gradually. You feel his hands getting down from your chin to your throat, squeezing it softly, almost like testing your bondages. The fire within your mouth runs down your body as his hands tighten around your neck. You moan lowly as he does so, and it just makes him squeeze more. You could feel him smiling through the kiss. All you thought of was him. Him… Him… But, who was him? 

“Wait, wait!” you suddenly break the kiss, breathing heavily “I-I don’t even know your name yet!” He laughs at your nervousness, how adorable you are. 

“I’m Suguru”. Suguru. Such a pretty name, you think. And then you say your name to him, taking on some breath still. He runs his hand through his long raven hair, and just so you feel that his touch has left your body. “So, princess, can I take y-“

He couldn’t even finish his sentence as you jumped off your seat. Nobara screams your name from behind him, absolutely mad —as if you weren’t the one who should be pissed off with her. “Where have you been? Didn’t I ask u to stay there? I’ve been looking for you the whole night!” Her face was red. You wanted to say a lot of things to her, but at the same time you were still processing her sudden appearance and the thought of someone else in your mind absolutely clouded by Suguru’s face—not even remembering you came with her after all that happened in this silly little bar chair. After a few seconds Nobara realized what was happening, swallowed dry and cleaned her throat. She kept looking up at Suguru as talked to you, kind of mesmerized, perhaps. He, on the other hand, seemed very much confused.: “hum, anyways… I think we should get going, though. Things didn’t go as planned and there’s a mad vip security’s man coming after me. I got an uber for us, explain it later”.

You couldn’t protest nor say anything as Kugisaki took your arms and got you up. “Calm down, Nobara, I was…!” Was what? She couldn’t hear you. And if she did, wouldn’t care now. You seek Suguru, looking like a puppy as gets carried to the veterinary. You try to take his hand and he goes after you for a few seconds, but the crowd makes it hard to follow. 

“See ya, pretty girl”. You could read his lips say, and felt his body getting far from yours so fast. You tried to slow Nobara down, but when you look back at him again, he was already gone, like he never really existed and it was all just in your delusional head.

[miniwrites1]

The Boggart - Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Word Count - 1227

Themes - Angst & Fluff

Sebastian hurried down the stretching corridor, he was running late for his next class. He was already on thin ice with his friends, Ominis and (Y/N) after the events in the catacombs near Feldcroft. He didn’t need to anger his professors too.

He skidded around the corner, taking the staircase at high speed, nearly knocking over a first year Hufflepuff in the process.

“Sorry!” He yelled, practically running now.

“Fifth years.” The first year muttered, rolling their eyes. Sebastian paid no attention and continued running. He had just rounded the corner to the classroom when he spotted his fellow fifth years entering the room. He’d made it just in time. He joined the back of the group, trying to slip into the room unnoticed. He saw (Y/N) and Ominis sitting together on one of the benches towards the front of the room. Before the event in Feldcroft he would have joined them, but now they were barely on speaking terms. It felt like they were punishing him for doing what he felt was right at the time, now though, he was remorseful, he knew what he did was wrong. He became lost in his thoughts of that fateful day. How could he have taken it that far? Yes, he desperately wanted to help Anne but thinking with a clear head now, he knew that what he had done was the worst thing possible. He’d lost his family because of it.

While Sebastian was thinking to himself, (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and spotted him at the back of the room. She nudged Ominis.

“I would tell you to look behind you but you can’t see so…” She said with a smirk. Ominis huffed.

“If I wanted to be insulted, I would go and find Peeves. What are you looking at?” He asked.

“Sebastian, he’s staring into space. It’s like he’s thinking about something. (Y/N) replied. Ominis scoffed. As angry as you were with Sebastian, you also felt bad for him. He’d lost his family over some stupid decisions he’d made and now he was paying for it, granted he was lucky that he hadn’t ended up in Azkaban. You were about to get up and speak to him when the door to the classroom swung open.

“Good morning class! In today’s defence against the dark arts lesson, we will be learning about boggarts.” Chimed Professor Hecat. You groaned internally; you knew what your boggart would be, but you didn’t want anyone else to know what you were afraid of.

To start the class, Professor Hecat asked a few questions about boggarts, such as their origin, what form they take and how to deal with them. Those that she picked to answer the questions passed with flying colours. You glanced behind you again, noticing that Sebastian still seemed deep in thought. Your head snapped back to the front when you heard a chest rattling and banging around.

“So, who wants to go first? Mr Sallow?” Professor Hecat knew that Sebastian hadn’t been listening. Sebastian gulped loudly and stood up, stepping into the centre of the room. He placed one foot in front of the other and tried to prepare for what would appear from the box. Even though he hadn’t been listening, he’d heard about this chest from a sixth year. It was the boggart chest, and he had a feeling he knew what was about to appear in front of him.

Professor Hecat released the latches on the chest and the top flew open, making everyone in the room jump. Sebastian gripped his wand tighter. What was the spell he needed to use to change it? He’d forgotten what it was. He felt frozen as he saw the boggart emerge from the chest. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t real but he felt frozen. In front of him was Solomon Sallow, his uncle. He stared at the boggart; it looked the same as what his uncle had before the catacombs.

His chest felt tight as the boggart in the form of his uncle stepped out of the check, wand in hand. The boggart took a step towards him and drew the wand in a fighting stance.

“AVADA-KA-“

“Ridikulus!” (Y/N) yelled, raising her wand and transforming the boggart. Professor Hecat was taken back by the scene that had unfolded in her classroom, she scolded (Y/N) for taking over. She then turned to where Sebastian was stood to find that he wasn’t there and the door to her classroom had closed with a loud slam.

“Oh for goodness sakes, Mr Sallow. Come back here now!” Professor Hecat yelled.

“What just happened?” Ominis asked, confusion lacing his words. You explained quickly what had happened with the boggart, how it had taken the form of Solomon and Sebasitan’s hasty departure from the room.

“We must go after him.” Ominis stated. You agreed wholeheartedly, as much as you may have been angry with Sebastian after what had happened in the catacombs, he was still one of your best friends. You left the room with Ominis, much to the frustration of Professor Hecat, trying to think of where Sebastian may have gone. You searched the castle, from the Slytherin common room all the way to the Undercroft but you weren’t able to find him. Then it hit you.

“What about the room of requirement?” You asked, Ominis agreed, it was worth a try. You both headed to the wall where the room could be accessed and asked to find Sebastian. The room opened into a dark corridor with a single door at the end. Casting lumos, you both made your way down the corridor, stopping short of the door. You could hear heavy breathing and the sound of sobs. You tried the handle and surprisingly the door opened into a dark, damp room. You spotted Sebastian in the corner on the floor, head in his hands, chest heaving with every breath.

You raced over to him, practically dragging Ominis with you. You put your hands on Sebastians shoulders and his head jolted up, looking you in the eyes for the first time since the events in Feldcroft.

“I-I’m Sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to take it as far as I did. I only wanted to help Anne.” He cried, burying his head back into his hands. You pulled him in to you, holding him tightly. You watched as Ominis put a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

I’m so sorry to both of you. I should have never put you through that. Will you ever be able to forgive me? Please don’t hate me.” Sebastian sobbed. You held him tighter, glancing at Ominis. Ominis nodded, neither of you hated him, he was your best friend.

“We don’t hate you, Sebastian.” You said kindly. “And we forgive you, we just needed some time.” Ominis finished, squeezing his shoulder for reassurance. Sebastian threw his arms around both of you, practically dragging Ominis to the floor.

“Thank you.” Sebastian whispered, feeling like a piece of himself had been mended by just hearing those words. They all knew it would take a while for them to heal from the events that had happened over the last school year, but they were determined to see the year through and end it on a better note than what the middle of the year had been.

[cozage]

Thinking about what if Trafalgar Law had an s/o that is secretly rich. Like...

They don't flaunt it but they aren't exactly hiding it either. How would law react?

Would he be neutral? Would he be confused...? Like...? What?

Characters: GN! reader x Law

Cw: some fighting/arguments, cute fluff other than that :) 

Total word count: 700

Quite literally nothing goes unnoticed with Law, so I imagine he figures out you’ve got money pretty quickly. However, he’s not sure how much you have or how you’re getting it, and he won’t confront you until something big happens.

It starts out with little things. On port days you always come back with an extra special dessert or something fancy to share with the whole crew. Law can calculate how much it costs to buy something that nice for a crew of 20 people. He doesn’t think anything of it at first, but after the third time at port, he’s suspicious of your finances. But again, he’s not asking.

A crew mate mentions that they want something they see while they’re on an island but don’t have enough berries. Every now and then when you hear someone talk about something they really want, you’ll buy it for them and place it on their bed while they’re out. 

You never say anything about it or let them know it was you who bought it, but every time someone shows up to dinner showing off something they wanted, Law notices how your eyes are full of joy, while everyone else’s are full of amazement and shock. The crew thinks it’s their captain who’s giving the gifts, and he thoroughly denies it, but he never throws you under the bus.

And then the ship needs a repair. A BIG one. And you’re stuck at port until you can get it fixed. Law gets the estimate for repair at 100,000 berries. You can see he’s stressed about it, trying to figure out where to cut corners to afford such a big (but necessary) repair. His stress is bleeding into all other aspects of his life, including your relationship. 

So you walk into his office one day, and just set the money gently on the table, and walk away. He’s staring at the money, shocked that you could have so much on hand.

“Y/N-ya?” he calls to you before you exit the room. “Where on earth did you get this?”

“It’s better not to ask questions,” you smirk back at him and leave. You’d rather not tell him that you were rich, it’s not like it really mattered anyway. 

Later, when the two of you are alone in his room, he brings it back up again. “Seriously, though” he purrs to you, kissing the crook of your neck in between words. “Where are you getting all this money?”

You laugh and push him away gently, teasing him. “What, you think I’m a secret Marine spy or something?”

His eyebrow raised in suspicion, playing along with your joke. “Wouldn't be unheard of, you know.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, finally giving in. “It’s just some money I had from my past life, Captain. Nothing more to it.”

That’s enough of an answer for him. Law isn’t one to pry, and he trusts you completely.

He continues to let you do small gestures for your crewmates anonymously. Your secret is safe with him.

But he doesn’t let you pay for ship problems or other things he should have to deal with as a captain in the future. Sometimes it can spark arguments between the two of you. He’s so damn independent and prideful, and you just want to help ease his burdens when you can. You two usually find a compromise, but sometimes the argument can last a few days until one of you gives in to the other. 

Sometimes he caves first, sometimes you do. It not a super common occurrence, and after your alls spat about money is over, it’s completely forgotten. Law doesn’t want to take advantage of you, even though he knows you don’t see it like that. Because of that, you rarely buy things for him. He’s more of an “Acts of Service'' and “Quality Time” kind of guy anyway.

He likes to pamper you with gifts though. Little treats from a bakery, small pieces of jewelry you pass by and comment on. In the back of his mind, he knows you can afford it, but he still likes to show his love through little gifts anyway. And you like receiving the gifts too. They’re way more special coming from him.