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#velvet haze
sincericida · 10 months
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Hey do you have any reblog drafts or saved links i can use on the wayback machine to find the "Velvet Haze" fic? I'm trying to find it since the author deactivated. plzzzzz helppp
Hello dear! I tossed and turned around and reviewed all the fanfic reblog tags, and found almost every chapter of this amazing fanfic called "Velvet Haze". I couldn’t find chapter 2, I'm so sorry. The others are here:
Chapter 1: Green Green Dress
Chapter 3: Sweet Disposition
Chapter 4: A Sufficiently Clear Admission
Chapter 5: Tortured By The Expectation Of Pleasure
Chapter 6: Pure Honey
Chapter 7: Definitely Absolutely Certainly
I hope I helped you in some way. ✌🏼
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mrs-trophy-wife · 7 months
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jediviolet · 11 months
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I don’t post much anymore but, recently I came across this Andrew Garfield fanfic titled ‘Velvet Haze’ - it was fantastic and so well written that even if I wasn’t a fan I’d be enthralled. The user who wrote it was @Youbetterlawyerupasshole1 I believe. They last updated about a month ago and I’ve been awaiting an update ever since. The account as of the last day or so has gone deactivated. I understand the writer may be going through something hard rn and I really respect that. I just wanted to see if anyone knew anything about this in case the account was taken down by accident or something as I was really hopeful to read the rest of the story. In the end I mostly just hope the writer is okay and wish them the best.
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psychopcmpz · 7 months
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birmingham lg arena — feb 13, 2011 photos by shari black velvet
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erabundus · 1 year
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anonymous &&. said... hi sorry, this isn't an interaction, but is it alright to ask where your blog theme is from <;3?
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oh, i don't mind!
i  actually  made  my  theme  myself  —  both  the  graphics  and  the  code.  (  except  the  little  floating  blobs;  you  can  find  that  here!  )
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mxdotpng · 10 months
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thinking about a game swap. for zesteria/berseria
#.text#zestiria#actually been thinking about it for dayssaa#sorey who lives alone in a small town near pendrago. maybe his brother is sergei? theyre like brothers to me already#anyways then theres his boy best friend mikleo (human) (because hes in place of laphicet) who lives with his uncle michael#after his mom died (im sure you can see where this is going). sorey is sick at the time so he doesnt hear it coming#bc im NOT immune to Chronic Illness Sorey. consequences of being born early. he is sick all the time forever#anyway. one night heldalf's men invade. im sure you know the story. people die or turn into daemons or they turn into daemons#and then die. and while sorey is running (he thinks hes dreaming. or hallucinating. its just the fever and everything is fine) and#looking for mikleo. im sure you can guess what happens there too. bye (human) mikleo#idea came to me in a haze when i was thinking about how totally normal it would be for a guy to love a person who looks exactly#like his dead best friend. you know how it is.#anyway i think sorey is someone who could be fun if put in the role as 'villain' bc. well. that part in zestiria where he#dealt with the world calling him a monster and he just. didnt think about it bc if thats what they wanted him to be or if thats#what they saw him as it didnt matter. he'd still do what he thought was best. regardless of whether or not the world hated him#which. is also kind of similar to what laphicet said to velvet#sad they dropped that in zestiria but its fine i can fix it. with my funny game swap#and i can put these bad boys into Situations
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epresley · 1 year
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» cat | any prns | adult
» elvis, marilyn, priscilla, austin (kaia too), and the rest of the presley family (i.e lisa, riley) r who i mostly post about! (occasionally will mention taylor swift also)
» i do write fic for elvis' movies, i.e vince/deke, or vince/reader so feel free to request if you'd like, though it may take a while for me to get to them. i do not write fic about irl!elvis or movie!elvis. and i don't really do smut simply because i'm not particularly good at it.
» i don't do discourse usually and i block liberally.
» if i tag a tw it's just with #tw (insert object) or #(insert object) warning.
» enjoy my blog!!!
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chocopokkie · 16 days
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Alastor x Fem! Reader Getting Caught in the Act NSFW
It was one of those rare moments when you and Alastor found yourselves alone in the bustling chaos of the Hotel. Amidst fulfilling various requests for Charlie, Vaggie, and other residents, you two managed to steal away into Alastor's room. As the door closed behind you, a hush settled over the room, filled only with the crackling of distant fires and the occasional echo of laughter from the lobby.
In the dim light filtering through the curtains, Alastor's crimson eyes gleamed with a playful spark as he moved on top of you on his bed, his presence casting a captivating aura around him. You felt the weight of his gaze as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.
"Oh, my sweet doe," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against your skin. "It seems I've been neglecting you. However, can I make it up to you?" His breath danced across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned in, his hands lightly restraining yours, pinning them down on either side of your head.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze, the intensity of his stare igniting a fierce longing within you. "Alastor," you breathed, the sound barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "Just being here with you is enough."
But he shook his head, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear. I intend to spoil you thoroughly," he replied, his voice low and husky with promise. "Tell me, what is it that you desire?" His lips curved into a smirk, a challenge glinting in his gaze as he awaited your response.
"I want you..." you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.
"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't think I heard you!" Alastor teased, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of mischief. "I can't give you what you want unless you properly tell me." Crimson eyes dancing with amusement as he awaited your response, his hands still gently holding yours in place, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of anticipation coursing through you.
"Please... I want y-you!" you say, your voice now laced with more confidence, the words spilling forth from your lips with a newfound determination.
"There we go! Now, was that so hard?" Alastor chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he savored your response.
You roll your eyes at his condescending tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with defiance. But before you can retort, he leans down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch, the heat of his embrace enveloping you in a blissful haze.
His hands leave yours and roam around your body, tracing every curve and contour with a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine. There's an urgency in his movements, a hunger that matches your own, as he explores every inch of your being with a reverence that leaves you breathless. His burning touch sets your body ablaze with a newfound arousal you hadn't felt in a while, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason and restraint. Each caress, each whispered promise, only serves to fuel the flames of desire that rage between you.
Alastor wastes no time in removing your clothes, his movements swift, as if he had been longing for this moment as much as you. "Oh, little fawn, you're so perfect," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble of appreciation as he admires your naked form, his intense gaze tracing every curve and contour with a hunger that sets your skin ablaze. You feel exposed beneath his penetrating stare, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.
His hands reach lower to your nether regions, his touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin as he slides a finger over your folds, already sopping wet with anticipation. "My, my dear, already this wet for me?" he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal as he revels in the sight before him.
"Shut-shut up," you retort breathlessly, your words barely coherent as desire clouds your mind and steals your breath away. But any further protest is lost as he dips a finger inside of you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. With agonizing slowness, he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, each movement deliberate and measured, drawing out the exquisite torture of anticipation.
"How rude you are, maybe I should stop?" he threatens darkly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his smile widens, teasing you with the prospect of withholding his touch.
"NO! Okay, I'm sorry!" you say loudly, desperation lacing your voice as you realize the gravity of your words. Panic floods your senses as he removes his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you achingly empty, the absence of his touch a cruel reminder of the pleasure denied.
"Alright then, let me hear you then," he says absentmindedly, his fingers deftly unzipping his pants before pulling out his hard cock, the sight leaving you breathless with anticipation.
"Huh? Hear what?" you reply, a knot of apprehension forming in the pit of your stomach as you pray that he wouldn't say what you think he's going to say.
"Beg for it, my dear," he states firmly, his voice laced with expectation as he gazes down at you, waiting for your response. "I need to hear you beg before I give you anything." The challenge in his eyes sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingled with a sense of vulnerability as you contemplate what he's asking of you.
"P-please.." you mumble quietly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you struggle to voice your desires.
"Please what?" he quips back in a teasing tone, his gaze lingering on you expectantly. "Say it properly or you get nothing."
"Please, Alastor, I need you to fuck me," you finally manage to articulate, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.
Finally hearing what he wanted, Alastor lets out a low chuckle, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. "That's my good girl~" he purrs, his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
Before you can fully comprehend his words, he moves driving himself into you with a sharp thrust that steals the breath from your lungs, plunging you into a whirlwind of ecstasy and desire.
"That's it, that's my good girl taking me so well~," he mutters, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he continues to thrust in and out of you with a delicious pace, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
With each powerful thrust, he delves deeper, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic dance of desire that threatens to consume you both. You cling to him desperately, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure as he drives you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning, and in strides Vaggie, "Alastor, Charlie needs your help with- OH WHAT THE FUCK," she exclaims, her voice trailing off as her eyes widen in disbelief at the sight before her.
"I-I, we uh," you stammer, desperately trying to find the right words to explain yourselves, but before you can utter another syllable, Alastor beats you to it. "Don't you know it's rude to enter without permission?" he growls menacingly, his crimson eyes flashing with irritation as an ominous red "X" appears on his forehead.
As quick as Vaggie had interrupted, she was gone, swallowed up by black tendrils that wrapped around her, pulling her out of the room with a forceful yank and slamming the door shut with a resounding bang, the lock clicking into place.
"Now, where were we~" Alastor purrs, his gaze shifting back to you with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins, the interruption only serving to heighten the intensity of the moment.
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haechansdoll · 9 months
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so perfect, i can't stop - ml x reader
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Pairing : Lee Mark x f!Reader
Description : Mark is too horny, and he uses you non stop
Warnings : sex,sex and sex.
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“you’re gonna lose it as soon as I put my cock in your pussy” Mark sneers, gripping the plush of your thighs and scooting you closer to his stiff, bare cock. your hands find homage on his shoulders, as he grabs a handful of your ass lifting you on his length. he doesn’t realize the heat cascading from your cunt, your folds brushing across his cockhead, “fuck.” He whispers. His fingers bleed into your thighs, eager hips bouncing subconsciously on his cock—sliding down till your flush against his lap. “jesus fucking christ angel.. didn’t know you were such an eager little thing.” You blush, and he smirks.
 “Don’t be shy.” He says, tilting your chin up as he bottoms out releasing a sultry moan, “you been hiding this perfect pussy from me this whole time? fuck.”
He wishes he could just keep you still, allow his cock to immerse in your sweet juices, tight velvet walls milking him dry, caresses your skin with his tongue—keep his fingers dancing on the skin but Mark just can’t do that. he has to feel more—his hips bucking up, cock curving against your spongy spot and you’re unraveling, whimpering when he takes the plunge and rams his cock harder upwards inside you. “want me to fill this pussy up, huh? feel my cum in your tummy for fucking days?”
Mark’s eyes grow dark, dropping the facade of pussy drunk and fully feral, leaning down to sink his teeth into your neck and slamming a hand down to move your hips harder on him, “never gonna fuck you with anything else but my raw cock princess, fuckin’ perfect for me.” you whine and moan against him, barely containing yourself.
“M-Mark—slow down” your whimpers left dull on his ear, mark raises his level of vision back to your disheveled face. “c-can’t help it angel—pussy so fuckin’ good” he throws his head back, his usually brown orbs clouded into a pitch black haze. He’s struggling—hips so sloppily drilling into your cunt. he’s thinking of the aftermath, your hole spilling out his cum and the wetness—how fucking wet and warm your hole will be when he pumps load after load inside you.
“fuck!” your ears vibrate against the shrill moan he echoes through the room, Mark drags his body back down mindlessly pounding into you. a high—the ecstasy laced bliss induced from his raw—untouched cock dragging against your velvet walls. and the tightness—have you always been this tight? he can’t stop thinking of those fucking thoughts. How much cum could you really take though? would Mark have to push it back in or just pump another load? The questions pile up while Mark feels your pussy clench around him and that’s where everything goes numb. A shiver that starts at the back of his neck, crawling its way to his cock and he finally—fills your cunt to the brim, gasping when he’s quick to pull out. He’s mesmerized by his seed oozing out of your messy hole and Mark is already pushing his cum right back in with his cock because what’s a better way to make it stick then with another pretty white load?
Mark inhales a long drawn out breath, steadily hoisting you over his cock for the second time that night. He flickers his eyes to you before casting his gaze back down—he wants to watch his bare cock disappear inside your pussy, something that he will never grow old of. “s-shit” he groans, brows furrowed while you sink down completely, pink dusts his cheeks and his body falls limb under you. he’s’ mortified how much his cock is twitching, swelling at the head while he just basks in the feeling. Once a sign of nerves coats his arm, he immediately throws it over his face gasping when you start to bounce on his cock.
Mark can’t look at you right now, it’d be too much. ..one thing is going raw —but your slick guiding his cock inside your spongy walls but it’s another just to see you. your fingers gripping against your mounds, hips faultlessly moving to a sedate pace while your slick paints his thighs. Marks eyes knock white under his arm, slinging the limb aside to cast it on your hip, “god your pussy is so fucking good” Mark stutters, dragging your cunt on his length. he almost looks disoriented—the way his face has grown a sheen sheet of sweat, cheeks bright pink and his lips—so pretty and glossy, puffy and small gusts of air excluding from it. “don’t stop please, fuck!” Mark screws his eyes shut, he’ll relish this feeling in his mind—carelessly bouncing you on his cock, and even if he came, he won’t stop—even if his cock is spent, tip so sensitive and aching for a break, he cannot simply stop.—not when it feels this fucking good.
Mark feels like he can’t breathe, lungs persuading blue as he continues to slam his cock in your hole, head tipping over and crashing into your neck but you only let out a whimper. “p-princess” he mumbles in your skin, shakily gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, “i think im gonna cum” you feel him shake as he spills inside of you. Deep groans coating your neck, the mess accumulating on your thighs, you can call out his name but he won’t answer—almost like he’s mute, mouth filled with gasps and gurgles and his cock—swelling and dragging along your walls. he knows it’s not enough—just one more time. He thinks. He needs more reeling his hips back to push the cum deeper and deeper. “s-so good for me—fuck—pussy made for me” Mark is barely moving, hips shifting on their own as he continues pulling airy moans to the surface. struggling to hold on to your body while he dives headfirst into another high, senses overcome by pure desire—he’s chasing another tranquil abyss. knees digging into the sheets below you, arms wrapped around your body and his face pressed firmly against the crevice of your neck. He can’t go back now.
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park-king-lot · 1 year
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imagine irene and seulgi performing Lavender Haze 🌫💗 ++ the song suits seulgi's voice!!!
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sincericida · 11 months
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omg?? i was following the updates to Velvet Haze by Youbetterlawyerupasshole and all of a sudden the entire account and fic has been deactivated!! the only way i could even find a trace of it was from ur reblog?? do u know if everythings okay or what happened? im devastated
Honey, I’m also groundless with this because I was also following closely. And I also have no idea what happened. Sad, I'm devastated too...
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romanoffsbish · 6 months
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Sinful Practices
Natasha Romanoff x Reader (AFAB - No She/Her)
Tony Stark, a man of advanced science, gifted his friend Natasha with a special pill, and the woman humored the man by taking it. Then pleased her partner by taking it | WC: 1,652
18+ | Minors DNI | Warnings Labeled
Warning: Drugs (Weed) | Sex Enchancers | Porn (Minimal Plot)
Smut: Mommy (N) | Detka / Slut (R) | | Oral -> Fingering -> Fisting | Teasing | Choking | Unprotected (Nat has a penis) | Breeding | Overstimulation | Belly-Bulge | Cock-warming
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The room reeked of sex, and there was a slight haze; Natasha finished off the blunt half an hour ago, and had been coaxing your pussy wide open ever since.
——
Her mouth was the first thing to touch your sweetest spot, the pleasure you felt as her tongue teased your hole was intense; she dipped the tip in then swirled up, parting and stimulating your slick folds. Then she had to go and moan, elated at the divine taste of you, that sent shivers straight down to your clit. It was less than thirty seconds before you loosened up for two of her skilled finger to slip inside, then just under sixty as your arousal gushed around her devilish fingers.
After the first orgasm she slowed it down, allowing your breathing to slow too, but with every sporadic curl or flick you would briefly hyperventilate and she'd suckle your clit that much harder. Then just as your walls would clamp down and suck her in further she'd let your bundle go with a loud pop; mocking you.
"Mommy please, need you inside" you cried, too under the influence of her touch and Mary Jane's to care about your kinky words. "Patience detka," she rasped and your walls trembled around her digits. Fuck, you never realized you had a vocal kink until you met her. Just her chuckle alone made you putty in her hands, you never tried to turn her down, or play hard to get.
You were hers in a blink, you are not ashamed and she was forever grateful for the privilege to have you.
Natasha's gaze shifted up some to lock in on your beautiful, fucked out face as her ridged teeth scraped over your clit just as her fingers swirled against your g-spot making your back arch and legs clamp shut, you couldn't see and you screamed in delighted agony.
After a minute your body stopped trembling, your bent legs fell down into the sheets and you sighed happily as the dots reconnected to show Natasha's frame. Then your face twisted as two more of her fingers, the pinky and pointer, slipped inside of you with some struggle.
The velvet warmth slowly stretched apart for her, she scissored them within just to see you thrash in reward as she pulled away and replaced her tongue with her thumb, swirling around your swollen clit like magic.
Sex with Natasha was that next level, fairytale shit. You saw the singing birds, felt the fireworks erupting and with each occasion you fell further under her spell.
Your hips jerked, and you moaned, "Oh god," as Natasha caught you off guard. She grinned in victory, her callous thumb had just ground into your clit before it swirled a seamless figure eight down that had her slipping into your stretched out hole. Her fingers were pinched together as they entered in and out of your sensitive entrance, the whimpers of confusion only spurred her need on to fuck you beyond dumb.
But she had to be patient, you needed her to be...
"Fuck," Natasha groaned, "Do you hear that Y/N?" You hummed incoherently, you'd felt it, that was for sure, her fingers spread inside of you and scraped against your walls. Your hips soon worked to meet her thrusts without thought. "Filthy bitch," she chuckled in mock disgust. There was nothing more deliciously vile than the way your pretty pussy stretched around her entire fist. All in preparation for her new length.
The redhead had taken a supplement to enhance the size of her cock, Tony had offered it to her one time at a party and she humored the man by taking it from him. You were entirely satisfied with her cocks size, normally she was four inches thick and six in length; perfect for you, but after a few hits of the blunt you'd teased an interest that she herself had been having. L
An hour later, mind (and body) altering substances had been consumed, and she was feeling incredible. Her shaft measured in at eight inches long and five and a half in girth, so she needed to properly get you ready.
Natasha enjoyed the way that your walls quaked with each slow curl into a fist, it had her oozing from her tip. She also loved the way your slick gushed and sounded every time she'd exit you, giving your body only a hint of peace before she stretched your hole with the tips of her fingers that entered you spread wider than before.
It was pleasurable, but then it became tedious enough for you to start to doze off. You were honestly numbed after her fist swirled and dug her ridges into your bored walls for a hundredth time. Natasha knew it was time to give the both of you what you needed most.
She felt the way her skin stretched taut as the veins in her enhanced cock had sizably thickened as well. It was painful, borderline unbearable but the way that your warmth enveloped and stained her hands appealed to her even more than getting her own sweet release.
"You ready for mommy's cock baby?" Natasha asked as her slick hand gripped your throat, both of you reacted to the sound of your arousal squelching beneath her tight hold; her cock spilled a sticky dribble that ran down your thigh and you cried. Your throat bobbed and her cock gravitated to your entrance, it dipped in and your walls clung to her tip before pushing it out.
Natasha's hips reared back, and she briskly humped her length against your slit, collecting the arousal and turning you on enough to loosen up for an inch of her. The stretch was something you'd never had before, and the both of you were taken aback at how you took her.
"Fuck, your pussy is desperate for a good fucking," she grunted as your cunt hardly resisted her, she gazed down to see about five inches had already made it in, "I'm fucking stretching you out like never before and you are taking me in with ease, like you needed this."
You whimpered, "I did, mommy I needed you so bad!" Natasha frowned softly, hoping you'd miss it and the festering insecurities could fade, but you didn't and were quick to reassure her, "Just like always mommy, nobody else could ever satisfy me like you do..."
"That's right," she grunted, her cock slammed in a bit rougher, and her face swiftly dipped down to nuzzle against your throat, "You're mine," her teeth nibbled around, pulling the thin skin beyond her lips and you moaned softly at the way her insecurities faded into, or more so, exploded into a bout of attractive jealousy.
"Happily," you sighed, voice trembling as your orgasm approached fast, the stretch had you edging the line of bliss but you always needed something more. It came in the moments like these where the redhead marked you up, not only claiming you physically, but she called you hers in every language that she spoke. A palpable love had roared to life, it had turned to rough grips and breathtaking touches to your breasts and pulsing clit.
Then she bit into your neck and came inside of you without the rubber, and the subsequent warmth that spread within quickly traveled all over your body as your orgasm crashed over you, sparking your nerves. Natasha's flow was cut off momentarily as your walls squeezed her tight enough to pause her bliss. It even flushed some of her seed out as you'd cum in tandem.
After a moment you'd loosened enough for her to pull out and continue to thrust back in, her hands pressed your thighs further into the sheets and your dilated, bloodshot eyes crossed as she pushed in rather deep, urging her lively cum closer to your womb, and that thought alone made a shrill moan fall from her lips.
"You feel that detka?" Your moan was strangled, and borderline incoherent, "mhm, 'm full mmy," but she understood you. She herself felt her mind wandering into such a desirable subspace, but tonight she was in control, so she fought off the encroaching waves.
Her hips continued to ram into yours, building the both of you back up in seconds, and her into a mind blowing second orgasm. A scream left you as your pleasure was proving never ending, her thick veins pulsed for what felt like forever as she continued to spew her seed against your walls. It ebbed off fast as she pressed down into the bulge of your abdomen, taking your breath away, and you came some more.
If there were a world record for best lover on the planet you'd nominate Natasha and call it criminal if she lost. The both of you fell limp, Natasha atop of you, pressing your exhausted body firmly into the mattress. Her lips quirked into a smile against your neck as her breathing returned to normal. Yours followed and she moved to steal it once more as she kissed your mind thoughtless.
Her arms slid beneath your body, and she flipped your positions while her tongue explored your mouth. You shivered as you shifted but sank down on her at a new, more intense angle. Natasha pulled a blanket over you, and you nuzzled into her, instantly understanding. "Get some rest detka, we'll see how long the effects last, and if they do we'll have sex instead of training."
"Nat?" Natasha hummed, her lips softly moved against the side of your neck, tickling the skin enough to make you shiver as you spoke, "Tell Tony you want more."
Natasha chuckled, kissed your skin, and whispered a raspy, "I already texted him detka, don't worry..."
The only thing Tony forgot to mention to Natasha before giving her a bottle, was that a particular side effect came with the drug, increased fertility...
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yandere-daydreams · 8 months
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tw - implied non/con, nonconsensual drug use, obsessive behavior, and gn!reader.
It was starting to rain.
When you’d let yourself into Neuvillette’s office, the sky had been clear and blue, the sun shining so brightly that you’d had to squint whenever you were facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the wall behind his desk, but clouds had gathered since then, smothering the light and casting the world in a dull, grey hue – only interrupted by the occasional bolt of webbed lightening or crack of thunder. It hadn’t started to fall yet, but it would. You’d lived in Fontaine long enough to know that storms never stopped at just an overcast sky.
You tried to find a window, to check if you could see the haze of rain in the distance, but your body ached at the thought of moving, a sharp shock of pain running from the pit of your stomach to the back of your throat. With some difficulty, you managed to turn your head, but a gloved hand wrapped around your chin and dragged you back into place before you could so much as hope to check on the storm’s progress. You let your eyes drift back to Neuvillette, a small frown tugging at the corner of your lips, but he seemed unaffected, too busy rutting his hips against yours and groping at your waist to notice your disappointment. He was probably distracted. Even in his best moments, he tended to be more oblivious than his stoic demeanor would let on. You loved your job, treasured the opportunity to tend to such an extensive archive, but your boss could be airheaded, prone to burying himself in his work for days at a time and taking hours to do little more than admire the way the sea broke against the shore. Things like your petty, mortal concerns weren’t really worth his attention.
…it was Neuvillette above you, right? You were still in his office, splayed across one of his velvet-lined love seats, and you could remember sharing a cup of tea with him after you stopped by to drop off the case files he’d requested, but this didn’t feel like something Neuvillette would do, and it didn’t look like Neuvillette above you. You could recognize a few disconnected features – silver hair, fine clothes, porcelain skin – but they were all misplaced, all distorted to the point of complete unrecognizability. His hair was unbound, falling around you in thick curtains and casting the world around you in a bleary haze of ivory, and his clothes were in a similar state of disarray, silk and leather wrinkled and disheveled, his shirt and undercoat torn open to reveal his heaving chest. His skin was worst of all, stained with a dull pink flush and marred with sweat and drool. His lips were bruised, swollen, and you could see a thin line of azure scales creeping up the side of his throat, slowly infecting his—
That pointed, acidic pain ran through you again, but you tried to ignore it, to block it out, to think about other things. Things you could understand. Things like the rain. You could hear it, now – pattering against glass, creating a near-deafening fog of numbing white noise. In the absence of anything else to occupy yourself with, your mind turned backward, first to the strange, bitter taste of the tea he’d served you, then further, to when you started your work with Neuvillette and how comforted you’d been by his steady hand and gentle smile. Eventually, you uncovered a well-buried conversation you’d had with your neighbor when you first came to Fontaine, something about a saying her children liked to repeat to the point of nausea when the rainfall forced them inside. It was about a monster, or... was it a dragon? It was hard to remember. It was hard to think.
You felt something wet fall onto your cheek. A raindrop, you figured, even if you couldn’t imagine the Palais Mermonia ever springing a leak. There was another, then another, raining down freely until you managed to lift a hand, finding Neuvillette’s cheek. “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon,” you mumbled, your voice rough, hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Please don’t cry.”
A hitched sob, a face buried in the dip of your shoulder, Neuvillette’s skin cold as ice against your own. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the chill, the dampness, the throbbing ache now stitched into the fabric of your being, what little energy you still had waning until you couldn’t bear to keep your eyes open, until you were just some limp item underneath him. It was all you could do to hope that, by the time you woke up, the Neuvillette looking after you would be your own, that you’d be able to do more than blink and dream.
It was all you could do to hope that, by then, the storm will have passed and you’d be able to see the sun again.
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psychopcmpz · 7 months
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dallas house of blues — may 22, 2011  photos by shari black velvet 
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gemissleeping · 2 months
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Angel of Small Death
Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.
Length: 1.8k
Warnings: Mature. Smut. Angst as with everything I write, not sorry. Deals with addiction to substances. Please dni if this subject is triggering to you. If you need help or resources please dm me. Second instalment from the amazing Hogmarch Challenge by @thatdammchickennugget will have a part two!
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Everyone knew that Slytherin threw the best parties. Hufflepuff was a close second, sure. But nothing quite matched the opulence of a bunch of rich kids throwing their parents money around like it was pennies. Which was why half of Hogwarts was currently packed into the Common Room as water-stained lights rolled across the dance floor.
You wove your way into the gathered students, everyone’s bodies slick with sweat through the haze. You were drunk, but so was everyone. Maybe a little high too, these things couldn’t be helped. Mattheo was oddly generous when you got him rolling. It was exactly what you needed; something that made you feel like a foolish child again. You’d been dancing for the past hour, but now your buzz had reduced itself to a gentle hum. Which meant it was time to find Matt again; sweet talk him into giving you just a little more.
Already familiar with the path, you strayed through the crowd. Handing out distant smiles to some of the other students from your year as you floated past them. Utterly devoid of anything but firewhiskey, sweat, and whatever Mattheo had given you, the bass rattling through the Common Room.
“Back again, Darling?” Mattheo grinned absently as you neared. Sunken into the couch, blown out eyes lilted with thinly-veiled guilt.
It wasn’t his fault, what had happened. You told him so almost every evening, when the two of you would meet to smoke up in the Astronomy Tower. His eyes always heavy with those same questions of whether you blamed him for the actions of his Father. But it didn’t matter how many times you told him it wasn’t his fault, because you knew he didn’t believe it. Besides, it would be a lie if you pretended that you didn’t think of it all every time you met his eyes in a room. It hung between you, always.
Enzo watched you trail over, sinking into the velvet beside Matt. Twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers as he glanced nervously to his left. Theo was sat there, his eyes having latched onto you long before you’d exited the crowd and made your way over to the group. But you hadn’t looked at him once, you barely took anything in these days. He could’ve stood before you and you’d have looked right past him.
Distance. It was what made Enzo shuffle uncomfortably in his seat beside Theo now. Swinging his leg over his knee, covering his mouth with a falsely casual hand. Watching the tall, glowering boy beside him.
Theo was still watching you when you leant into Matt’s shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering as your eyes glazed over. Matt resting his head atop yours with equal heaviness. The two of you whispering lazily to one another.
Sometimes your lips would tug into a smile at something he said, but your eyes were never able to catch up in time. The sight made Theo want to shatter the glass he was holding, let it tear at the skin of his hands. Give him a reason to feel this way, as though he were truly bleeding out. His feelings staining his shirt, the carpet.
At least when it came to Matt, he seemed to have some level of restraint. Reserving the substances the two of you shared for weekends, evenings. But Theo had become increasingly aware of how far away you were now becoming, even during the days. Whether it was Matt’s guilt that allowed him to fuel your addictions, he wasn’t certain. All Theo knew was that everything about you had changed, and a part of him wanted to kill Matt for having any role in it at all.
You’d have come to him once. Sat atop his bed and talked for hours. Hands resting beside one another’s but never quite touching. But these days you didn’t seem in much of a mood for thinking, let alone talking. The only thing you were interested in was getting far away from everyone, save for Matt. The two of you were joint at the hip. And although he hated to admit it; Theo knew that he should’ve been more concerned with other things, but that was what hurt him the most.
You were his childhood friend, the one he had swapped sandwiches with. Who he had followed up trees and chased across beaches. Sat through countless invisible tea parties beside. Who he had always, unconditionally, loved. And it had all been forgotten. Traded for nights of stuffing your nose with powder and drowning your insides in liquor.
He didn’t want to even begin to think about whether what you and Matt now shared was strictly amiable. Though he had his suspicions. And every time Enzo looked over at him with resounding pity, Theo got the aching feeling that those inclinations were right.
He tried to tune in to the debate Blaise, Draco & Pansy were having about who could do the best impression of Harry’s parseltongue. The trio bursting into laughter as Pansy hissed in gibberish. But Theo’s ruse didn’t last long. Everyone’s breath going still as Matt stood from the couches, offering his hand out to you. The pair of you slinking through the crowd without so much as a goodbye.
The others awkwardly turned back to their conversations as you disappeared. Although it was clear everyone was feeling the burden, as though they were all walking atop cracked glass. Enzo let out a sigh as he lost sight of Matt’s curly hair up the dormitory stairs. Tired eyes slinking to Theo, who was stuck on the doorway where you and Matt had vanished.
Enzo twirled the stem of his wine glass again before placing it aside, put off. Noticing the way Theo’s fist clenched at the couch’s edge. It didn’t take long for him to make an excuse. Enzo’s eyes trailing after Theo as he made little attempt to hide his path towards where you had disappeared.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
Matt’s hands trailed the skin beneath the ribbons of fabric covering you. Greedy for more as he sat you atop his desk. Standing before you as he guided your knees apart gently. Eyes not vaguely tempted by your body, focused solely on taking you in; the way your lips parted as his fingertips trailed the inside of your thighs. Testing their limits as they trailed further, higher. As he threaded himself between your legs, pulling you flush against him. Tearing a gasp from both of you as your pretty little eyelashes fluttered. Head falling back as his other hand snaked up the back of your neck to guide his lips to yours once again.
He pushed against you softly, keeping the kiss delicate, careful. His hand trailing down from your neck to the underside of your jaw. The other circling the skin of your waist in intricate patterns. Holding you as though he feared you’d crack. You shuddered into his kiss, lips working against his softly. The antithesis to the fever that was sure to hit you both in a few minutes.
He pulled away an inch as you shook against him, rolling his hips lazily into yours. Satisfied when you let out another breathy gasp at the movement. He loved watching you like this, it seemed to mend something in him. As though if he brought you enough pleasure, it would somehow make up for all of the pain. Matt brought his forehead down to yours, absentmindedly swiping his thumb beneath your nose. Cleansing your skin of the white powder that sullied it.
“I just want to make you feel good again,” Matt breathed, ghosting his lips against yours in a broken whisper, “please say that I do.”
Your eyes blinked open, seeming to clear a little at his words, the rawness in his voice. You looked to the boy before you, saw yourself in the weight of his brow, the heavy set of his jaw. Saw the bruises of fear he carried.
“Matt,” you whispered, fingertips flying to soothe his skin. Draw him back into you and out of his head. “You make me feel better than anything.”
The words had barely left your lips before he crashed himself against you. Commanding fingers grasping at your jaw to make you as accessible to him as possible. Tilting your head back and sucking at your bottom lip with his teeth. His hips rolling against yours with calculated speed. Pressing himself flush against you as your skirt hiked up.
The sensation made you squirm, just as he knew it would. The hand he had situated on your hip clamping down firmly as he drew you back towards him. Leaving you no room to get away. Relishing in the way you lost all composure as he pressed himself against you again and again. It didn’t take long for him to make quick work of your underwear, or for your hands to find the buckle of his belt.
You were soaked by the time he pushed himself into you. Holding you tight to him as you cried out into his mouth. His hands already gently threaded into your hair with familiarity. Keeping you from falling back into the wall as he began to thrust into you. The gentle roll of his hips escalating as the powder hit your systems. His movements growing rougher as his control unravelled.
You buried yourself in his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper, the sensations becoming too much as you felt yourself losing your grip. His lips lazing against your cheek, trailing the skin with each thrust.
“You’re so good to me,” he breathed harshly into your ear, drawing you closer to the edge of the desk as he drew himself into you again and again. His hand tangled in your hair gently, comforting you as you reached your high with blistering intensity. “I’m sorry,” the words left him in a strained whisper as he continued his pace, offering you little relief as you felt yourself building up again.
But you knew his apology had nothing to do with his pace, the rough snap of his hips against yours. They only ever came when you were together in this way; completely at the mercy of the other. It was the only time he could let his guilt spill into you and know you would answer him truthfully. Your head too empty, body too spent to lie.
“I know,” you choked the words out as you shook again, your hands tangling in his hair as you felt him stuttering against you, “me too.”
Theodore shut the door quietly with a click, letting his back rest against it as he faced the empty corridor outside the dorm. A tightly wound breath leaving his chest in a huff as his bleak gaze permeated the wall in front of him. The sound of your heavy breath and moans barely audible beneath the door.
Theo sat, eyes drawn shut as he tried to wipe the image of you intertwined with his friend from his mind. Feeling flustered for having caught you both in such an intimate moment, and guilty that he wished it was him.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
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haeryna · 3 months
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in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
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summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.
tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.
notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune
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"You look like shit."
You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.
"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"
You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."
You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."
"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."
"Shoko!"
But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"
"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."
As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.
"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."
"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.
"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."
He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.
When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.
"Hey, is everything okay? I-"
Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"
Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"
The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.
Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.
Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.
Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?
"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.
He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.
Suguru,
My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?
I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.
I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.
Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.
Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.
Another.
I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.
Another.
I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.
More. More. More.
I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?
He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.
I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.
I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.
I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.
I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.
It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.
It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.
Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.
"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"
"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."
Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"
The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"
Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"
Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"
Stunned, you can only nod.
"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.
"Where was the dress?"
From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?
"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.
What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?
White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.
So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.
Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-
Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.
"I missed you."
Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."
"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.
"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."
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