#/ᐠ. .��\ฅ

[letters2won]

may i request riki instagram stories but one he posts of us?

౨ৎ Niki ig stories if you were his girlfriend

pairing: niki x f!reader ⋆ genre: fluff ⋆ warnings: none

⤷ here you go!! thank you for requesting <3

¡ requests: open !

[kaoyuuji]

mascara .

husband!t. fushiguro x f.reader headcanons ! — ˖⋆♱“it’s too bad.. you’re married to me.” ♱⋆‧₊˚ ⋅ !! S4Ws4w🪦

˖⋆♱ - Toji being a good husband was a surprise to many, except you. You knew since day one you’d crack the hard shell he desperately tried to contain. Truth be told he’s a softie deep down. (only for you ofc)

˖⋆♱ - When you’re around him his mind goes haywire. Since he met you, he started doing things he’d never even consider doing, like being overly protective over you, or caring about you in general. Considering his profession, he doesn’t have a heart for none. Then you came into his life. Now his chest feels tighter when he sees you with anybody but him, and he can feel the blood rush to his mind when your image triggers his senses.

˖⋆♱ - You’re not like anybody he’s ever met.. your beauty brings him to shambles and no matter how many years you’ve been wedded he is still amazed at how you bring his guard down. “i don’t know how you’re doing this woman, but don’t stop.” he’s thinking even when you’re doing the most casual thing, like a lil cuddle session.

˖⋆♱ - He lets all his actions speak for him. He’d do anything for his woman.. verbally, the most you’d get is the usual “I love yous,” ”You’re mine,” and a rare “You drive me crazy..”

˖⋆♱ - When it comes to nicknames he’s using them more than your regular name. “Woman,” “Kid,” “Baby,” “Crazy woman,” “My woman/girl.” Sometimes you wonder if he might’ve forgotten your real name…

˖⋆♱ - Mannn and the rock on your finger is the perfect symbol of your marriage. Nothing too big, a white gold diamond sitting in the middle with a shiny band to hold it. Toji has never been more proud to wear his ring too, a plain silver band with the date of yalls wedding ani engraved inside. Of course yours has the date engraved too, his orders.

˖⋆♱ - He’s never been fond of weddings, until he realized the day he loved you. Toji wanted to propose then and there… — He’ll never forget that day till the day he dies, it was the one day he’s never been more greatfull to be alive to witness the beautiful bride walk down the aisle to promise that you would be his until you both knock on deaths door.

˖⋆♱ - it’s safe to say you’ve managed to get the Toji Fushiguro smitten over you, not that it was hard to do that anyways. I mean look at you!

— first time i’m writing in soooo long !! ofc i had to make a come back w my bbg toji >_&lt;

[kaeddehara]

DIRTY PICTURES AT WORK — NSFW

[ tighnari + cyno + al haitham ]

♱ warnings — cursing + mild nsfw + bondage

♱ notes — minus kaveh :(( ; lowkey rushed because school is kicking my ass right now

| TIGHNARI |

tighnari is almost even on his phone even after working hours. he doesn’t see a need for it but nevertheless still keeps it on him. sometimes he’ll receive messages or emails and chooses to ignore them when he doesn’t even know who they’re from yet. but there are occasions when he does have a break and he’ll look to see if anything is urgent or needs his attention. but when he sees messages from you or specifically pictures, he can’t help but wonder what that could mean. he hastily opens up your messages only a reveal a couple pictures of you on his bed only covered with some very thin fabric he could only assume was a new set of lingerie you’d gotten to wear.

“i know you don’t check your phone much at work so we can have an even better time when you get home <3”

he’s more than happy he’s alone not only so he wouldn’t get caught, but also to cover the obvious blush lining his face. his long, pointed ears are probably flushed at the point too. his eyes scan the images you sent again and he can’t ignore the way his cock is hardening at the sight of your pretty body. he made sure to send you a message quickly complimenting you, already so anxious for your response. he made sure to save those pictures to his phone so he could go get rid of the problem you gave him in the restroom. trying to hard to keep his embarrassing, pathetic sounds to himself while stroking his pretty cock to the sight of you. all the while, he’s mumbling to himself about how he’s gonna treat you when he gets home <3.

| CYNO |

cyno actually doesn’t even use his phone. he won’t look at it unless you or someone else tells him to. chances are, he can’t even work it that well because of how often he’s not on it. so you when decide to send him some pictures of your cute tits only being cupped by a thin piece of fabric with a sweet message about how you miss him, he has no idea about it until you mention it. you’re all excited when he gets home and ask cyno how his day was and all those little questions you always do. it’s only until you ask if he saw the pictures you sent earlier that he gets confused and shakes his head no. you huff in annoyance but the second he goes to check right in front of you, you can’t help but smile at the shock on his face. he scans those pictures and message so hard you’d think he brain had stopped working for a minute or something. it isn’t too long before he throws his phone to the side and pushed you down against the nearest piece of furniture to have his way with you. making sure to cup your pretty tits while humming apologies and also some questions about why you’d send him that during work unless you’re just asking for it.

“you can’t even wait till i’m home is that it? you want me to get hard at work just so i can punish you?”

and you want nothing more than to being just a smile in that moment with cyno pressing his lips right against yours to keep you from responding so he can have you right now and make up for what he missed.

| AL-HAITHAM |

al haitham is always pretty tedious about how he goes about most things. work or just mundane acts he always does with precision and focus. when he does have some downtime however, most of it is actually spent messaging you or responding to emails that he may have gotten while on the job. hes very good about keeping his business personal and too himself and that makes no difference when you send him certain messages. at first, al haitham doesn’t know how to react whatsoever. he’s practically in awe of the dirty messages you sent along with those pictures of you freshly out of the shower in whatever sort of sensual position you want him to see you in.

“keep working hard and you’ll have a reward when you get home <3”

he deeply exhaled and tried to cover the blushing mess that was his face. it wasn’t long before his break was soon over and he had to get back to work. all the while, his mind would not stop thinking and imagining all the things he would do to you when he got home. maybe some punishment was due just because you thought sending him pictures like that when you knew he was working. he decided to respond to your message as to not leave you hanging, waiting for his answer.

“you’d look better with some rope wrapped around those wrists and thighs”

he knew he sounded so serious but also considered how much you enjoyed his serious tone he’d use when he meant something.

“why not show me when you get home kay?”

he had to turn his phone over at all the perverted thoughts filling his mind every second. all because you wanted to send him those pictures in the middle of his working ours WHILE there were others around. you were in for such a harsh punishment when he got home.

[simplyafountainpen]

Flying The Nest

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Son!Reader x Sebastian Michaelis

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: After the anomaly that is a Demon Child spawns before The Crow Demon, it takes it upon itself to raise it up in a most demonic manner, but not all chicks readily leave the nest.

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Fluff, crack/silly fic, small amount of angst, (Y/n) is not Sebastian’s biological son, Sebastian & (Y/N) are referred to as Crow Demons and he and (Y/N) are referred to with it/its pronouns for a while

{𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽}: ❝a requests of black butler....(i LOVE platonic fics, and I can just think about it) like, Sebastian's son? the (male) reader don't need to be too young, but i think would be funny Sebastian trying to teach his son how to be a good butler, and reader been just a little messy demon. My English is not good, I'm sorry... i love your writing, please, bite my cheek (yes)❤❞ - izlittlebu (@sweetplantbro)

Demon children were not things most accounted for. You see, Demons are beings born from the woes and suffering of humanity, culminations of their despair and guilt. Of their sadism and pride. Of lust and greed and gluttony and envy and wrath and sloth. Of the impure. Demons are born full grown with a place in the hierarchy, a knowledge for what they must do with their eternal-unless-killed lives, and an endless and incurable hunger for souls.

So when a certain Crow Demon was met the squawking of a child, same as it in species - both being crows - and form, it panicked.

Demons were not meant to raise children unless asked by a future human Master or Mistress! Caring for one of their own with little to no gain is unheard of! There would be no point in keeping this anomaly that would only weigh this Crow Demon down, and so, initially, it flew off without a second though, leaving the newborn alone in the depths of hell.

But then, the crying. That damned crying. Thousands of crow chicks crying out in fear. A noise so loud it echoed through the endless caverns and catacombs of hell, alerting every being in these depths of the anomalous, pathetic child in their wake. And so, in a moment of both self preservation and recklessness, the elder Crow Demon swooped down and shoved it’s feathered mass into the younger, shutting it up.

The many eyes that crowded the Crow’s eldritch form stared into the matching many of the child that stared back.

With a reluctant huff, the young Demon chick was lifted from the ground in the arms of the elder Demon Crow, both taking off into the flame littered skies of the damned world of hell.

This would be the mark of a new relationship.

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

Years flew by faster than either of you could care for. Centuries of staying side by side had ignited a relationship between you and your elder, one akin to those of a Father and son, you both found.

And as such, you became a packaged deal. Summon your Father, and they get you as well. A younger, but still devilishly handsome boy, with those same piercing red eyes as your Father. His pact mark became intertwined with what would be yours, ensuring that the two of you would be together till time itself ended.

The only issue in the whole situation was that you were… a bit clumsy, to put it mildly. Where your Father was amazing at everything he did, more often then not - if it was not just preforming or entertaining - you’d find some way to mess everything up.

Bring the Master some tea? You'll end up drenched with a shattered tea set. Bring the Master food? Your hair was set on fire instead with a somehow raw-on-the-outside yet cooked-on-the-inside meal. Clean the halls? The ceiling is covered in soap and bubbles, the floor is covered in dirt and grime.

It was almost impressive with how well you managed to screw up nearly every task you were given, considering that those who summoned you and Father automatically assumed you were - in fact - related by blood. You both were unearthly beautiful with your piercing red eyes, and your Demon forms were scarily close in size and shape, even down to the hooker boots.

At the very least, whenever you messed up, they'd get to see your Father clean up the mess in a most graceful way.

You were never upset at the situation, in fact you nearly found it funny. Something Father never understood, you would come to realize. Unlike his sense of hilarity, you could let nearly any imperfection roll off your back like rain on a petal, never truly taking any punishment to heart. You'd take the advice, try again, fail, then get back up and keep trying.

Father also didn't seem to worried, always taking time out of his nights - seeing as both of you rarely slept - to train you. Over time it would get better, less spillage and messes and more elegant triumphs much like him.

But if there was something you could do that Father had little experience in, that was entertain. Your memory was impeccable, of course, and that made you a beautiful storyteller, even if you did embellish the truth quite a bit, but isn't that something humans do all the time?

You'd preform tricks for you Master and their guests, flips, games and otherwise while Father took care of literally anything and everything else. If everything, you could be described as the distraction to his action. The calm before Father's storm. You were the warning signs and flashing lights while Father was the danger that inevitably followed.

And this was life. This was the routine from the moment you truly gained consciousness and would most likely be until the day reality ceased.

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

"Are you ready?" It was just passed midnight, all residents of the manor you and Father had currently been serving at had been put to rest, so it was time for your 'nightly training'.

You walked with your Father towards the front door, exiting the large dwelling and pressing onwards to a nearby forest. Neither of you needed to bring anything, the space you'd both be using having been set up for ages by this point. No candles were needed as you both trekked to said forest, and within moments of entering the dark space, your brisk paces became long strides, not a single branch snagging on either of your outfits. Both of you glided through the leaves, looking more like afterimages than 'human beings'. Small animals scurried off when you both rushed by, leaves whipping wildly due to the speed you each were traveling at. Finally, the meeting spot - that which was a clearing filled with old furniture and tea sets and cleaning supplies - was in sight and you both slowed back to a nice walking pace, calmly waltzing into the clearing.

"We'll start simple for the night. Dusting isn't something you have much issue with - anymore anyway - but we should always brush up on our skills, shouldn't we?" Father's voice was much less uptight then it was in front of your Master, more lax but still with that undertone of something sinister, though you knew it wasn't pointed at you. A twitch of his finger was all it took for you to rush off to the small collection of cleaning supplies you kept out here, all pristine and cleanly, no matter how long they went without use. The feather duster you picked up was the best of it's kind, naturally, so picking up dust was nothing more than a breeze. Or so it should have been.

The dust of the shelves chosen was kicked up rather than swept up, making it fly all around you and Father instead of gathering to be swept up later. You sheepishly grinned as the duster in your hands continued to fly wildly around in the air, desperate to collect even a bit of dust. Father simply sighed, walked over, and cleaned up the mess within seconds leaving you still a bit dusty and the shelves and Father perfectly clean.

"What happened?" He asked gently and you looked down, chuckling and shrugging your shoulders. A hand went up to the back of your neck, rubbing and massaging the muscles as you stretched and popped your joints.

"Not sure, just got a bit too excited? I guess?" Your tone was sheepish, grin turning to a half-smirk, eyes drooping slightly. You Father also softened his smile, chuckling into a sigh as he pet your head, ruffling your hair.

"Well then, I suppose we'll have to wear down that excitement, won't we?" You were used to seeing this uncharacteristic softness from Father, the less tense smiles and looser body language, the encouragement and even the offerings of help without needing anything in return. Your smiled broadened as Father brought you in for a quick side hug, the hug itself being brief, but more than enough to get the message of affection across.

The feather duster was laid down on a nearby table, the two of you taking a seat in a mismatched pair of chairs. Father stared at you while you took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. His larger hands grasped yours, leaning towards you with that small smile on his face. You looked towards him with a smile of your own. With a nod, you both took a deep breath and held it - longer than you had before - and let it out, relaxing your bodies. You did this a couple times, over and over, breathing and calming your excitement to be here with your Father, spending time with him alone, without humans to interrupt. You grew giddy at the thought, only to feel a palm press against your head and one of your own to drop back into your lap. Father looked at you with a knowing gaze and you laughed, settling back down to keep breathing.

"We Demons," Father began, "must stay calm and collected throughout the day and night to complete our duties to utmost perfection. Not a mistake shall be allowed so that when we reap our reward, it will be as sweet as the nectar that led humans to this path of destruction and selfish desire. You understand, don't you?" You nodded at his words, shuffling in your seat, now very eager to get up and move again Sitting still was never your strong suit. Father watched as you jittered in your seat, smiling at you.

It was sudden, when he stood and pulled you by the one hand he was still holding into an embrace, wrapping his arms around you. Usually he gave you nothing but short head pats or the occasional side hug, like earlier. But to be fully embraced fully like this was such a rarity that you genuinely couldn't remember the last time he had given one like this. You stared into the fabric of his waistcoat, hesitantly returning the hug, to which he then squeezed you for.

You both stood there in silence for a moment, your head in his chest and his on your own head. The sounds of the forest overtook the moment, the distant call of night birds and deer playing created a symphony around you. The wind even seemed to blow slightly, pushing you both closer together.

"Perhaps... you were not made for all this cleaning and such." Your eyes immediately went to Father's, shock written visibly across your features. Before you could refute, Father placed a finger to your lips.

"You enjoy the performances you do for our Masters, correct?" You hesitated, but nodded. "And you much prefer these performances over cleaning and cooking, correct?" again, you nodded. Sebastian hummed, looking to the sky for a bit, before nodding to himself and looking down at you, who now had a confused pout on your face as you rested in his arms. "Then I have an idea. We've been going about this all wrong. Grab the feather duster, please?" He let you go, arms falling to his sides. Instead of moving, you squeezed him a bit tighter, then let go a moment later to retrieve the cleaning item.

"Now, instead of cleaning for me, preform. Don't focus on cleaning, but with devilish charm, instead focus on making it a performance, cleaning second." You stood still for a second, staring at him from your place in front of a lightly dusty table. It took you a minute to really let the words sink in, turning back to the shelves, lost in thought. Father let you have the time to really take the words in, the feather duster in you hand raising and lowering in hesitance. Eventually, you raised the duster and held it the air.

Don't focus on the cleaning, focus on the performance..?

Your mind began to spin a song, swift and graceful. The music that echoed in your head soon swam around in your mind, your body beginning to sway with it, hand going up to the table with the feather duster ghosting over the surface gently, less in a cleaning motion and more in a way that portrayed it. You swiftly made your way across the entirety of table, eyes closed as you drifted aimlessly.

Instead of applause or praise, you instead 'awoke' to the sound of Father coughing. Your eyes opened and found Father holding a fist to his mouth, waving a hand through the thick cloud of dust that surrounded you both. Your eyes squinted as you waved the duster around in a frenzy to clear away the dust, instead pushing it around even more.

“Don’t - ahem - don’t bother. Let’s just leave this place for a moment.” Father spoke softly. You nodded, not feeling it in you to talk. The feather duster was gently placed on a different table, the both of you rushing from the scene and resting on the branches of a nearby tree. You were downcast, eyes level with the floor, not bothering to look up at Father who you were more than sure was upset with you.

“Now now, don’t look like that.” You tensed, feeling him land beside you from his higher perch. A hand rested on your shoulder, your eyes looking up and catching his.

“It seems we’ll simply have to work a bit harder-“ “We’ve been working for years by thing point Father!” You interrupted, something you’d never usually do. Tears nearly made themselves apparent in your eyes but you wiped them away before they could even form, looking back towards the ground. “We’ve been at this for years and I’ve barely improved. I just don’t get why. I want to improve! And I definitely try to, but I just don’t. I just can’t and I don’t know why.” Your lip trembled as your voice cracked and broke. You were tired of this, of this trying to be better at something you clearly weren’t. You hadn’t looked back up at Father out of shame, thinking you’d definitely see his disappointment.

Instead, a hand gently placed itself on your cheek, tilting your head upwards to meet Father’s gaze. His eyes were soft, uncharacteristically so, and held rarely seen compassion and care. He thumbed your cheek, holding you there, then leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’m not disappointed. I’m not angry. This is a learning process for the both of us. I’ve never been a father before and it I know shows. We will figure this out together, alright little one? This is nothing to cry over, Demons don’t cry, after all.” You sighed, nodded, and scooted closer to the elder, who welcomed you. You shared the third hug - a new record - of the night, squeezing him as tight as possible. He returned the force with everything he had.

“This is a learning process for the two of us. We will get through this, understood?” You chuckled at the question, nodding into Father’s shirt.

“I do. I understand.” He nodded, trademark smile on his face. Father’s red eyes met your own, the two of you grinning together.

“Then let’s keep learning. Keep moving forward. Till time itself gives up and humans fall.” Your grin grew at his words.

“Together till the end!” You cheered, arms swinging upward, only to hit the branch above you both and send you tumbling to the ground, you falling on your face and Father landing on his feet. He chuckled at your misfortune and you growled.

There was still plenty time to grow.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: I am so very sorry this took so long to get out. I had a few things happen in life in quick succession and Wuthering Waves took control of my free time. I still hope that you enjoy, even if this is shorter than I had hoped it to be.

-🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved

[d0enti]

“True Beauty” -"water leads the fate of seas"

⋆˚࿔ a nice brouse from Kuro𝜗𝜚˚⋆ :: a brouse to warm up

― ʚ summary ɞ ― day 4th of fluffprill bubble baths and bubbles

― ʚ words ɞ ― 286

― ʚ warning ɞ ― designer found no danger in her creation

― ʚ author note ɞ ― our dear hydro girls and I have 2/4 of them, I will have 3/4 someday when idk

―𐙚 Mona

Bathing with Mona is probably the funniest or one of the most magical ever, but she would rather finish with the bath then to do something else but if you want she doesn't mind showing your constellation and tell you about them, if you have one she will gladly tell you about it and maybe whisper how it's the prettiest constellation because it's yours, baths with Mona indeed involves bubbles she finds them magical and enjoyable.

―𐙚 Yelan

Yelan mostly takes the bath and leaves not wanting to spend too much time in it, but if it involves you she doesn't mind spending a little bit longer in the bath with you washing each other's hair and body too if you are comfortable, she also doesn't mind showing you some dice tricks if you ask, bubbles sadly aren't involved unless you genuinely want them then she agree on it.

―𐙚 Furina

Honestly you are the royalty both ways, when she was acting as Focalor and when she's Furina she doesn't mind using her vision to make a little performance just for you to enjoy the bath and even asks her little water friends to help out for example bring the shampoo or other stuff and definitely wants to wash your hair, she doesn't mind if you do that too of course also there so many bubbles they practically everywhere!

―𐙚 Kokomi

Genuinely bathing in Watatsumi is amazing but with the divine priest?! That's even better especially since Kokomi doesn't mind making little fishes appear and give you kisses and then give you one too, baths with Kokomi are the prettiest with pearls around and some fishes with a lot of bubbles and lighten candles too, Kokomi geniually like baths they just relaxing.

[wonnielicious]

goodnight, my love. | sim jaeyun

심재윤 + sleepy!reader 🫐 fluff • wc 115

bre’s final words - hiii! this is my first drabble in awhileeeeee so bare with me guys…i also wrote this in school so don’t mind any spelling mistakes i made i was just writing what i was thinking atm T_T. anywho enjoy!

“and then i turned the corner and he shot me! even after he said he’d spare me!” jake complained to you for the nth time about how ni-ki “betrayed his trust”

“that’s messed up” you hummed out, currently trying to fight the sleep you oh so desperately craved at the moment. “hey? are you even listening to me?” “mhm” you lazily replied. even though he was a bit hurt, he couldn’t deny how pretty you were when you were tired.

he giggled and quietly said “goodnight, my love. i hope you have nothing but sweet dreams tonight.” and with that you fell asleep soon after he said that with a slight smile on your face.

©orngebld on tumblr. all rights reserved.

credits to @plutism for the blue hearts divider <3

[theearloftophats]

ฅ/ᐠ｡ᆽ｡ᐟ \ "Machine, I wiwl cut. You. Down. Bweak you apawt, spway the gowe of your pwofane fowm acwoss the staws! I wiwl gwind you down untiwl the vewy SPAWKS CWY FOW MEOWCY! MY HANDS SHALL WELISH ENDING YOU HEWE! AND! MEOW!!!"

+ more after the break

this game is making me insane. its so unreal. theres something about gabriel man. he just. he makes me so fucking happy. idk. his character is so,,,,,its SO!!! HES SO!!! AUGH

[nanakorobiyaokii]

MIKAGE REONYAN CONFIRMED ฅ/ᐠ ̥  ̮  ̥ ᐟ\ฅ

i will pick him up, give him a hug, and take him home.💜

[ourolite2]

⬭ 𓈒  ݁ mise en scène   alhaitham + black ( chubby afab ) reader. one-shot coded! nsfw/smut. written in third person, male oral, sarcastic usage of "princess", switch! reader, dom! alhaitham, cock-warming, brat/brat tamer coded, lowkey bunny coded reader too, impact play, implied dacryphilia, edging, orgasm denial, slight degradation, not-so-slight condescension, overstim + sleepy aftercare fluff.

"𝒞'mon, babe." An annoyed tone overtook that of what was meant to be sultry, as Alhaitham glanced along another paragraph in his book while resting along the upper part of the grandiose bed, while his persistent lover eyed him from below. Her ass wiggled and bounced behind her like a cat prepared to pounce as she pressed him with redundant queries and testy teases. "Read my movements instead, hmm? Them pages ain't finna make you cum, you know that... Tuh.. Do you know that?"

Not caring much for a response to her question (particularly because she knew her boyfriend wouldn't grant her one), Y/n's plump, mocha lips resumed wrapping around the rose resembling tip, tasting his unasked-for arousal coat her tongue and pool at her throat as she filled herself to the brim with his warmth. Her cheeks sealed his sensitivity tight in her mouth like a butterfly in a honey trap, adding onto the analogy as she watched his fingers flutter across the next page of his book like fragile wings, knowing the rest of him was just as delicate and immobilized, despite his overall silence.

Randomized grunts of overwhelm were the only responses audible, though poorly disguised to be those of annoyance and inconvenience as Y/n restricted the lower space of his dick, squeezing and stroking around the supple skin and it's pulsating interior with her velour-like palm. Meanwhile her other hand trickled inchmeal up his thigh and trailed leisurely along his abdomen. The happy trail there tickled her fingers a bit, causing her to giggle with her mouth full, inevitably causing her two clement, cherubic cheeks to reverberate around the sage's repetitive twitches and innate jumps and shoves.

By now, it's evident that he's not processing a thing in this book, deduced by the slight part of his lips and the gentle pant relieving itself between them with every suck and squeeze she pressures him to undergo. The covers are nearly closed front to back and drifting out of his grip, likely willingly, but of course he has that uselessly immovable nature of his. Indurated in his dick as much as his head, he'd rather lift the book back up and pretend to still peruse his useless passages than pay praise or even scrutiny to Y/n, even knowing he could cum within the next three minutes. The man still dares to have the imprudence to utter meaningless teases in a scenario that should have him speechless and writhing.

"Expecting desperation from me only shows what you're trying to hide about yourself, princess." That sobriquet. Sarcasm or not... God, isn't he so attentive. Y/n hums around him, feeling that warm, sweet ache between her own pudgy thighs increase and leak between her brown lips. She's straight to the point in proving him right, huh? Needs more so much to the point where she's humping into that longing sensation ever so gently, not wanting to lose too much composure. Though such is merely fanciful as she begins senselessly imagining Alhaitham's two fingers poking her cute new panties to the side, prodding her sticky folds apart, and then rubbing ringlet motions over her pretty, puffy clit until she's squirming for release.

Her body takes more initiative than her literacy will allow her as she detaches from his sloppily glossed and veined dick, giggling so preciously as she crawls up toward Alhaitham and his fabricated glout. Leaning near his neck and taking hold of his book in the most grabby, demanding manner, Y/n tosses the band of papers and ink to the floor before moving his iconic headphones to his neck, resting the set out of the way as her lips graced the shell of his ear in a ticklish tone. "M' I desperate, smartie? That's it? Then if you're sure that's the case don't have me waitin' on you."

Judging by the way his model of a lover slips her own panties to the side in preparation, she's apparently taking it upon herself to decline seeking succor in patience and pleading. Aligning his blushed tip at her panting, slippery lips, Y/n lubricates his peachy skin with squelches and smacks from the pent up arousal dribbling helplessly toward her outer folds. "Since I need to continue my research, and vexing you will only be a hindrance to my progress, I guess as the Acting Grand Sage.." His mind swirled briefly around warm sin and temptation as he spoke, chuckling between a pause as he sunk his warm palms and spread fingers into her squishy love handles. Her aroma is as intoxicating as forbidden flowers on a Sunday morning, and that sweet delicacy her body owns is like putty in his hands. How could he not ponder over how bendable, mendable and breakable she must be under his influence? "Despite my busy schedule, I'll have to fit you in."

The tip licks along her soaked pussy, barely spreading it open as he takes his time to her obvious displeasure, before delving into her clenching hole and stroking himself into her with a firm hold on her hips, as if he's simply using her to beat his dick at whatever pace he prefers. However, Y/n has had him pent up for hours at work before, so he's really not so conveniently persuaded to indulge in her antics at the drop of a thigh garter. In actuality, he'll claim that he's doing this in order to shut her up, rather than for his own pleasure. In spite of this, he's beyond aware that she'll only become more of a drooling, huffing, blubbering show, yet he forces her up and down quicker and quicker, causing the saliva at the corner of her mouth to trail down her cheeks which jiggle so adorably with every bounce, matching the look of the rest of her rubenesque figure.

"S' better than a book, baby? Me? Yeah? Mhm?" Her voice is disrupted with irregular breaths and muttered fuck's, and drenched with the mellifluous taste of honey. It rolls so sweetly off the tongue that she just can't seem to shut the fuck up, and if she were to do so Alhaitham wasn't sure if he would be more pleased or distressed. She's so fucking tight around him, taking it upon herself to clench when she needs not and to run her hips in a circle to deepen the uncharacteristically ruby tinge on the tip of his nose and surely the entire head of his dick. It's pushing so deep, as if with every plunge she feels the warmth in her clit and her lips and her walls excel. So stimulated and torrid and glistening in speckles of sweat down her breasts, upon her neck, behind her knees-- it's as if she's already drenched, already full, already close. "Tell me I'm all you- fuck.. Fuck me- close! Baby, Alhai, m' need you, pl- fuck. Deep-deeper-!"

"Rarely a challenge, so I'm not surprised.." Aware of Y/n’s delirium and failure to remain coherent, he forces her into place on his lap, pulling her in deeper the more she gyrates around him in resistance. She’s still wiggling and whining, but his voice gives her goosebumps when he leans beside her ear to inquire on what she’ll do the next time he’s occupied. It's vital that Y/n answers. Alas, she’s stubborn.

He lands a smack to her ass as she replies with fidgety insolence: “Fuck you, fuck me, like this-,” She rotates her hips to demonstrate before beginning to hump forward and back due to her puffy, under-stimulated clit. “-Like this, like that, right.. right there.” Leaning over Alhaitham’s shoulder to catch her breath erratically right beside his ear is as draining as it sounds, not to mention the squelches and smacks coming from between her thighs. With every writhing motion the friction of her thighs, let alone the feeling of her ass plopping and slapping incessantly, is enough to make a grown man groan. At least it should be.

Rather than desperation, he’ll hit her ass again, rolling his neck slightly to relieve its stiffness and ease his impatience, as she muffled a whine in response. Inquiring on what the fuck he’s testing her for, Y/n pouts slightly while being expected to maintain eye contact with him, rather than complain and roll her eyes over the increased sting still permeating.

���Is the princess going to pout now? I’m sure I can exonerate your temperament problems if you can choose your next words carefully.” He speaks with ease, disregarding the discomfort of Y/n's position as his lover pulsates helplessly around him. He knows his words only enhance her agitation and poked out lip and puffed out cheeks as she clenches more than she'd likely admit. She's gripping onto his shoulders and contemplating wrapping her hands around his neck as she mumbles a curse and half an insult in response, followed by yet another spank. And another.. and another, and another, until her eyes are watering, until her eyelashes are fluttering, until one more hit could have tears dripping along those chubby little cheeks of hers. Holding her chin up with his thumb and forefinger to observe her sniveling, slobber-lipped face, Alhaitham- the 'sweetheart'- grants her the courtesy of wiping the drool away as it kisses the underside of her pretty, fat, carob hued lips. Though, it'd be sinfully uncharacteristic of him to hold any kindness and patience any higher than necessary, so he threatens her with what no bratty beloved wants to hear. "Hmm. You've had many poor attempts at behaving today.. Rather than lacing my words with rhetoric, I prefer speaking factually. I guess.. I just won't be able to reward you."

Nearly immediately, Y/n gyrated incessantly in retort, clawing at his shoulders while his fingers still held up her quivering lips and wrinkled chin. Due to his hands' proximity to her face, he found no other solution but to bluntly tap her cheek twice with the back of his hand. Though, when this didn't work, he pulled her off of him and slammed her back inside, allowing the impact to demonstrate what friction she's reprimanding for herself if she continues. Still having little to say in return to him, he strings along more words to chime through her fuzzy, hot little head instead. "On the topic of speaking factually, it's painfully clear that you're doing this because you enjoy being degraded and tamed. However, when your defiance starts to bore me, I'll just find something else to mess with, since you're obviously capable of fixing this yourself."

"So mean to me, Alhai.." She whines, sniveling more than before as her arousal leaks around him, still warm and suffocating- if not more than before. "Wanna be good, okay? I'll--" Amid her breathy claims, a trail of warning taps reverberate against her ass, followed by much harsher, louder smacks the more she whined and attempted to speak in between each landing. His hand was out of view behind her, but from the sting against his palm he knew it was less palid than rose-related. The only thing stopping her skin from being the same of course was the naturally deeper shade, though this couldn't eliminate the intensity of the aftermath. She attempts to ask what she did wrong through choked moans and apologetic sobs, and he's placidly alacritous to give her a reason.

"Didn't ask you if you'd be 'good', that's subjective to your definition of 'good'. What will Y/n do the next time the Acting Grand Sage is busy?"

Her mind and body are too overrun and overheated to think of a means to answer mistakenly; too dolorous and defiled to notice that she's begging him between her compliance to not interrupt him again. Words slurred with another trail of drool which Alhaitham doesn't bother wiping away, since it's already leaking against her bouncing tits and open neck as he begins fucking into her. A thrust more, quicker with every apology and plea, with every moan and whine and sign of gratitude. "Thank you, baby, thank you, thank you.. Fuck. S' good to me, s' much- fucking much-"

Squeezing him so tight, she can't help it. Making a mess on his thighs, coating a soapy white ring of cum around him- who's to say whose it belongs to? Perhaps it's self-explanatory; the head is dribbling and drooling with excessive pre-cum, rubbing off all over her gummy walls, provoking twitches to correlate with the heightened frequency of clenches and throbs from her pretty pussy. Can't keep it in, she knows that familiar warmth building at her clit and starting deep inside is so close to releasing, and Alhaitham doesn't take it as a deterrent to ease up, but as a motive to speed up. "This.. is a lot. You'll have to.. take it." His breaths interrupt him, followed by light groans, and that's what brings her over the fucking edge.

Convulsing and clenching, Y/n can't keep either of her fat fucking lips closed- not the ones dabbled in drool or the ones drenched in cum. She's begging him to slow down, feeling the orgasm overrun itself with pleasure and numb her walls and weaken her body. So relieved and exhausted, princess is still exerting broken, mellifluous noises from her tainted little mouth, which still has the taste of Alhaitham's dick residing within it. Does he care?

"Look at you. Proving yourself useful." He patronizingly compliments Y/n in her fucked out state, knowing she's hardly processing anything as his twitches and warm cum use your hole as he nears his own climax. He's so much more intense now. He's being selfish and inconsiderate, bucking his hips so harshly knowing you can barely manage any penetration at all in your state. The last thing he needed to hear was you whining and begging him to hurry up and cum, even demanding him to cum inside as to give your aching pussy a break as soon as possible. Baby, how could he say no? Rather, how could he stop himself? A trail of focused grunts muffle themselves in the crook of your neck as he feels himself finish; the warmth of his arousal rushing inside where it belongs, before leaking out due to you being too full to hold any more of him.

"That's a good girl." Y/n's head rested against Alhaitham's rising and falling chest as he complimented her once again, though she had become fatigued and hardly able to speak with her now sore throat. So much begging and retorting came at a price. Despite her exhaustion, she begins to roll off of him, awaiting the usual mutual aftercare and such, though he physically denies her procedure. Rather, he holds her steady and places his heavy hand on her head, silently gesturing her to stay close to him a while longer. "I'd like to avoid any disruptions, I still have three sections to review. Rest now.. if you move anywhere else I'll be prompted to clean up the mess immediately." As he states this, Alhaitham gently turns to reach for his book, then whirles the pages toward the back of it as Y/n sighs against him and her breathing slows. He's lucky she doesn't have the least bit of energy left to argue on why taking care of her should be his first priority.

However, once she's fast asleep, the scholar cuts his reading-time a chapter short so he may begin his hidden objectives amid her unconscious state.

Gently moving her body along its side, knowing his remaining arousal and hers are bound to begin leaking beyond her pudgy folds, he wipes his thighs clean with a cloth before using her personal feminine wipes to clean off her clit. Then the tighter areas on either side of her hole, and every other area where she's managed to soak with her own magnificence. If she were awake, Alhaitham knew he wouldn't be able to take his sweet time, or have a few moments of serene silence to cherish her without obtrusion or movement of any sort. He needed this time for himself; to listen to how soft she breathes, to leave delicate butterfly kisses along her belly pudge, pussy pudge and all her rolls. To smile as he analyzes her cellulite and her lighter brown stretch marks, and traces his fingers along her hip dips, only finishing the moment by whispering sweet secrets about how he feels about her. Ones which he'd be too self-conscious and vulnerable to utter in even her presence without a slight alcohol intake as a means of excuse. Yet still, he's aware she already understands his emotions and his behavior, she somehow always knows what he's truly thinking and feeling; none of it is logical. Realistically, he can't fully compute why he behaves so secretive and shy about this himself, other than the cliche observation: love.

Well, she is the one he adores more than all under the sun and moon. His adored and adoring, no matter the amount of banter and brazen sarcasm they torture one another with through morning coffee and bed-time routines. As he slides on her favorite, stretchy shorts and ties a bow on the side of her now-secured bonnet (he found the side bow to be incredibly more adorable), Alhaitham kisses her forehead and cheeks in another attempt to show how much he loves her, wondering if it'll translate in her dreams. Words often fall short, he knows, and perhaps that's why he's not so sensitive with how he uses them, but his actions will never falter in showing how much devotion he holds for her.

Sliding beneath the emerald and aureate sheets of their shared bed, the man can't help but chuckle from knowing how Y/n's certain to complain in the morning, only before realizing she in fact was taken care of, with his book still rightfully neglected. "It's every day with you, isn't it, princess?" Before nodding off in dreamy thoughts and an uncharacteristically reminiscent imagination, her beloved finally dims the light and rolls on his own side, knowing he'll be playing fox and bunny once again with her tomorrow, and forevermore.

⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

[catboy-supreme]

the boops are back!! Happy halloween 🎃☠️👻

[skzfaker]

tagged by the lovely @chanquokka: put your 'on repeat' playlist on shuffle & let your friends pick their favorite of the first five songs! thank you <3!!

also tagging some of my favorite blogs/people @lee-minhoe @strayklds @skz-films @yonglixx @wolfchans @chanrizard @linoyes + anyone else who'd like to join!

[letters2won]

niki situationship texts (fem reader ) 🤗🤗

౨ৎ Situationship with Niki Texts

pairing: niki x f!reader ⋆ genre: slight angst ⋆ warnings: a little toxic/possessive niki

⤷ listening to cool about it by boygenius inspired me tbh

¡ requests: open !

[kaoyuuji]

sparing w toji <_<

m. fushiguro x f!reader ! —. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .“Whenever I see her , i’m not lonely.” ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ !!ヾ(=`ω´=)ノ ‘ — implied romantic relationship w/ toji ! sorcerer reader !! 🍎

⋆˚🍙˖° - in a competition based off of pure strength you both know Toji would fold you. Yet.. your ego says other wise. — You’re always trying to spar with your beloved, but he’s always turning you down because he doesn’t think you have what it takes to fight him.

⋆˚🍡˖° - And after daysss of giving puppy eyes.. he finally gave in. “just lettin ya know just cause i love you doesn’t mean i won’t go easy on you.”

⋆˚🍘˖° - the two of you stand in a forest with a wide open space. The sun casting light on the stage at which you till will show off your strength.

⋆˚🍚˖° - he doesn’t wanna hurt with your pretty face , so of courseee he’s holding back on you even if he said he wasn’t!!

⋆˚🍢˖° - the both of you mutually checking each other out mid fight cause y’all both look good sweaty with your muscles flexed <3

⋆˚🐾˖° - Toji was unable to focus on fighting cause of how pretty you looked while trying to make contact.. your hair now a mess, and your pouty lips is making him excited. “cmon pretty.. i know you can do better than this.”(＃`Д´)

⋆˚🍙˖° - when you start beating his ass he is genuinely impressed!!

⋆˚🍢˖° - that is until you let your guard down, and now suddenly you’re pinned down on the lush grass in a heartbeat. The two of you out of breath, but instead of calming down, your breathing gets more ragged at the sight of Tojis strong arms and abs being flexed against his tight shirt. “eyes up here, pretty.”

⋆˚🍡˖° - you couldn’t accept defeat that quickly. you manage to flip your positions, straddling him. your weapon against his neck. You notice his eyes peaking at places they’re not supposed to, “eyes up here, pretty..” — “don’t get too cocky woman.”

⋆˚🍘˖° - the two of you begin laughing, you can’t take each other serious sometimes (つω`｡)

⋆˚🍚˖° - “You did better than i expected..” he says. The both of you are now cuddling inside your warm home watching y’all’s favorite show. “i know.” — he glares at you, “i’m joking!” — “that’s what i thought..”

— toji my beloved (・人・)

[kaeddehara]

― 𝜗𝜚 .˚ MORE TOJI HCS/THOUGHTS — SFW + NSFW

sorry this is messy and a bit all over the place. i’m currently writing a much longer oneshot toji fic right now so here’s some scraps i came up with while writing it <3.

i feel like he’s one of those guys who kind and sweet to only you. yeah sure, he has a bit of temper at times and can say things he doesn’t really mean, but overall, he’d treat you with such kindness that you never see him give to anyone else. it comes in many forms but the most prevalent one has to be simple, small physical gestures such as :

a hand on your back when he’s trying to lead you somewhere in public

brushing some hair out of your face if you’re working on something and are too focused to move it

rubbing your shoulders if you’re stressed out or tense from the day

feel like physical touch would be his top love language honestly maybe along with acts of service <3

the list continues on all the sort of small but endearing gestures he does for you. i also feel like this feeds into his possessive nature so by doing these things, he’s claiming you as his. i feel like he’d have one of those stares at everyone else that just lets them know to not fuck with him or you. you’re just his sweet thing, hands wrapped around his thick forearm as you walk along the street.

even though i did say physical touch would be one of his main love languages, he’d definitely have to go through some warming up. he’s not exactly cold-hearted as many see him as, but his demeanor towards your kind gestures and overall demeanor make him feel a little frozen in time. he’s just been so unused to receiving kindness or praise that’s not just for the work he does that it honestly causes him to become a little standoffish to the kindness he’s receiving. i wouldn’t take it as an insult—it’s just his first steps into truly loving and appreciating you.

for example, after a couple of weeks of knowing you and going out on occasion dates, he’d finally get comfortable enough to head back to his place with you. while sitting on his couch, watching whatever movie or tv show of choice, he’d find your head laying on his shoulder. and although he has absolutely no ill will towards you, he can’t help but to feel uncomfortable at the touch. feeling tensed up as you softly cradle yourself onto him. slowly, he’d wrap his much larger arm around your body, bringing you closer to him and gently graze your skin with his fingers.

“you’re feel to stay toji, i thought you might want to since it’s pretty late” , you said as you continued to put the now dried dishes up. he was standing at the kitchen counter, rubbing the back of his head in thought.

all this kindness you give him and what’s he to do?

“if you’re offering i don’t see why not” he says in response, his his tone firm yet validating. you close the cabinet and turn around to give him a soft smile along with a soft “mhm”.

“i don’t mind and you know that.”

“jus’ don’t wanna be a bother is all…”

you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing for a moment. toji fushiguro caring about being a bother? you wanted to smile almost giggle at his words but instead chose to be polite and not cause him to go back on any progress you’d both made.

“you’re never a bother baby, take however long you need, doesn’t bother me a bit”

while toji didn’t want to admit it, the fact you called him baby did something to him emotionally that he couldn’t explain. it took all his strength not to just grab you and push you against your hall way wall to kiss you. you were just too kind, too pretty standing there in front of him. toji couldn’t help himself and so he took a chance while he could. moving in closer to you, he watched as you did the same to him, making him more confident this was a right choice.

all of a sudden, you felt his rather cold and large finger tips slip under your night top, his hand gently rubbing the soft skin of your stomach as it moved lower and lower, getting to the waistband of your panties. “didn’t mean to startle ya”, he apologized quickly upon hearing the gasp you let out. you grabbed onto his forearm as if to encourage him to continue whatever plan he had. “don’t apologize, it feels good” you whispered in a sultry tone that made to his eyes widen a bit. he’d never truly seen this side of you and just from the start, he can already tell he won’t be able to get enough of it. grunting in response, he took his fingers off your waistband and moved two fingers in between your thighs, letting your warmth envelop his hand. another quiet gasp escaped your lips as toji continued. gently rubbing those two fingers right where you wanted him most made your head light and chest full. moving your free hand up and grab at his shirt and other hand to grab at the counter. letting a pleasured sigh leave your mouth when you felt him press harder.

“you been thinking about this huh?”

he whispered in a deep, almost sleepy like voice that went straight to your pussy. that, and his scent, deep and musky it always made you feel drawn to him and safe in his presence. you nodded instinctively, not even thinking to give some sort of vocal response and instead getting lost in the pleasure. his eyes laid on your pretty facial features as he continued to rub harder and faster, not letting up in the slightest or for any reason <3.

[simplyafountainpen]

Phantom Filled Nights

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Ciel Phantomhive x Older!Brother!Reader x Sebastian Michaelis

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: Life has finally caught up with (Y/n) but he refuses to break down. Ciel and Sebastian help him realize that even Guard Dogs need a break.

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Huge amount of angst, fluffy ending, familial reconciliation, Reader has extreme burn scars, Reader is implied to be heavily disfigured, Reader uses cane and has prosthetic, Reader implied to have PTSD to some degree, Reader goes through traumatic flashback (described to the best of my ability)

{𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽}: ❝I'm always shy when I make a ask, but i'll try. It's about black butler. I was thinking about a reader who is Ciel's big brother, like 3 years more older than ciel (u can choose) Like, male reader is overloaded with something (work or psychological things), you could put sebastian and the rest of them. I'm sorry for my bad English, im trying to not use the translator… i love your writing, btw❤❞ - Sasattan (@sasattan)

When your little brothers disappeared, you were alone. No matter what anyone said or did, you refused to believe that they were dead. And so you waited. You never listened to your Aunt claiming it was time to move on, because how could you when they were still out there, holding on? You had to keep going, keep believing, not letting any lick of hope slip past your fingertips because the day when your two baby brothers would return was soon, you could feel it.

But as you eagerly awaited their return, time passed. And you grew older. And older. And older still. A mere two weeks passed and suddenly, you officially took the title as the Earl of Phantomhive, and the Queen’s Guard Dog. At fourteen years old, you bore responsibilities no child should ever have to.

And you had just turned fifteen years old when only one of your younger brothers returned, with that hellish butler of his.

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

Owls cried beyond the window behind you as candle light washed the room you were in with a golden glow. The sound of a pen dashing across pages also filled the room. You sighed, deep and filled with melancholy, as you pushed a stack of pages by another - a finished pile - and grabbed another and quickly began to work. You knew it was long past midnight, all the servants in their quarters asleep.

And hopefully, Ciel as well. You had only just gotten him back a few months back. He had been painfully thin, eyes sunken into his skull and hair ridiculously thin when he returned. No matter how you or your Aunt pried and asked, Ciel wouldn’t answer where he’d been all that time. That one, God awful month of painful waiting. Your one birthday wish - a direct month after the manor burned - was that they would return.

And there Ciel would stand before his tomb. A ghost of the past returned to you in the most awful of ways.

Being the Guard Dog came with the side effect of witnessing the underbelly and gore of an England that worked under the cover of night, drenched in ash and blood. But what that eye held as he stared, limp and lifeless at you as that man, if you even dared call that beast a man, stood behind him smiling like he had won something. It would haunt you.

The pen dropped from your hand and your face fell forward onto the mahogany, falling to the side of the paper you had just been working on with a resounding ‘thump’ that echoed off the walls and reverberated in your ears. No matter how much you asked, or rather, begged him to let you in, to let his walls down and allow you the great pleasure of helping him work through whatever hell he evidently faced in such a long-feeling-yet-short amount of time, he refused. He’d look at you in a way you couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, and mutter some ‘it wouldn’t matter’ under his breath and walk off with that dark thing following behind him.

Your head raised slowly and stared into the fire that crackled wildly with passion, focusing on your breathing so you didn’t spiral. You’d been stressed as of late, working on a particularly hard case while trying your best to be the shoulder Ciel so evidently needed to cry on. Endless amounts of paperwork had been forced on your shoulders and for some unspoken reason Funtom had suddenly taken a hit from a competitor, and working on a new product was sucking the absolute life out of you.

Your eyes were naturally drawn to the fire, gazing at the flickers of light and the bursts of cinder that would fall to the hearth and ignite in a final moment of flame before being silenced forever. Your eyes closed as the fire grew louder and you focused, brows furrowing as the world grew silent except for the growing roars of flame, ash and soot. The air seemed to grow heavy, mixing with a scent you hated but knew oh so intimately.

The case you had been handling lately involved the serial burnings of homes, each with families inside. The fires would always be set at midnight, and the homes were usually those of a wealthier lot. Nothing like an Earl or a Duke, but people with money nonetheless. The families always consisted of a mother, father, and at least one son, the most being quadruplets, never a daughter however. After the burning, the family would be confirmed dead by the suspect or suspects - you assumed it may be either a duo or a team - usually by caving heads and chests. The worst one so far had been a family where the father had just received a raise from his occupation - a butchers assistant - and all had died not a day later. What made it so bad was that fact that the twins burned in the fire were infants. Just barely two months old.

The remaining smell singed your nostrils and made your eyes water but you could not tear your eyes away from the group. The mother and father lying over the boys cradle, holding them in their arms.

You couldn’t help it. Shaking in your chair as your grit your teeth, trying to remove yourself from the thoughts that would replace that family with your own, hearing the panicked cries of your little brothers as fire consumed the walls and stairs, making escape nigh impossible.

You couldn’t help it as one of your hands trailed up your body, filled with blotches of burned flesh and stitches, gross and red and raised, that textured your skin under your bandages and thick, heavy clothes. It was sensitive. It was numb. You could feel the flames licking your skin as the crackling grew louder, breathing becoming harsh as hands raced to protect your face when the flames climbed the walls in your bedroom, making you scream.

You fell from your bed, night shirt clinging to your chest as sweat poured from your skin, crawling across your floor, which burned across your being, and pulled yourself up to wretch your door open, crumbling into the hall as you shouted for your family. You shuffled through the halls as servants ran about, screaming and crying. The smoke and heat stung at your eyes but you pushed forward, desperately calling for your mother and father. You collapsed into a wall, going low to take a deep breath and wheezing at the smoke you inhaled instead. You coughed, falling to the floor once more but continued to crawl, your calls much weaker than before.

Suddenly you were in the doorway of the study that held your family as fire burned through everything around you. It roared, forcing you back as you saw them huddled together, mother and father above your brothers. They screamed at you to stay back but you, ever the brash child, jumped through the flames to reach them, only for the floor to give out beneath you, leaving you trapped in the middle of the flames. It quickly ate away at you, nightshirt burning away and your skin blackening and peeling, your screams echoing across the home, actively being the loudest amongst the chaos. You struggled and cried, tears quickly drying up and evaporating, hands clawing at everything they could reach to pull yourself from the pain.

Hands wrapped around you, strong and safe, pulling on you. Unfortunately your leg took the brunt of the damage, snapping as you were pulled up from the ground. You cried, leg jutting at a horrible angle as you were rushed into the embrace of your mother, father cursing as he rushed back to the group. Your brothers clung to you, and you didn’t care as their nails dug into the fresh burns, stinging and bleeding. You looked up at your parents who were talking before your father spoke.

His voice was muffled, drowned out by the noise of the fire, and the group shuffled close to a window you hadn’t noticed, moving inch by inch in case any more floorboards were lose or weak. Your arms were tight around your brothers, hushing and shushing them, kissing their foreheads and patting their hair in attempts to comfort them. You all were as low to the ground as possible, the heat seeping into your bones and scorching your soul.

As soon as you all made it to the window, the fire had claimed over half the room and was right on your heels, its light blinding you. The adrenalin was the only thing keeping you from passing out from pain, mother's grip growing tighter as father rushed to the window and forced it open, eventually punching through the glass and lifting it that way, the noise imprinting itself in your brain.

You were torn from your brothers, a scream immediately shredding itself from your throat. Thrashing to the best of your ability, you were only calmed by your father’s hands on your shoulders. He glanced outside - to see if it was safe to jump you assumed - and leaned in close, pressing many kisses to your head. You looked back and saw your mother, who was still holding your brothers, smiling at you.

“You are the most injured of all of us. You need to go first.” Your father began. You immediately shook your head, pointing to your brothers but father shushed you.

“No. They’ll be out right behind you, I promise. I love you, so so much, and so does your mother. Please.” You looked back at the fire that was consuming the floors and walls at a rapid pace, creeping closer to your family. You sniffled, nodding, and hugged your father. He hugged you back, lifting you and carrying you to the window, mindful of the glass.

“Aim for the bushes, my little soldier. They’ll cushion your landing.” You nodded again. Before he dropped you, you turned to your father and family.

“I love you all.” You whispered. And you were met with declarations of love back. Then, the wind whipped wildly around you as you fell.

You didn’t know what happened, what changed your trajectory, why you were suddenly in so much pain.

… Your lower back hurt. Bad.

Something crashed above you and your saw the window you just fell out of grow dark, as though something fell in front of it inside, then flame burst forth from remains, glass raining down over your withered form, that of which screamed and cried.

You were never very religious. Church was not something your family partook in to often, but in that moment you preyed. Clasped your hands above your head and preyed, cried, and screamed. Your eyes were clouded with tears, and noticed that a red blob followed by several other blobs raced towards you, scream-like-noises emitting around you.

Voices sounding like they were calling from the bottom of the sea rung in your skull and made you cry more, hands coming to your ears as your vision darkened around the edges.

“BROTHER!!”

You didn’t react, covering your ears with both hands, begging that the noises and the lights would go away. Your leg, you couldn’t feel it. The damn thing felt like lead weight attached to you, the burns were itchy and your fingers raced to scratch at them, the heat of the flames making everything unbearable.

You started stripping, if just to cool off the tiniest bit, but something stopped you. A hand, it seemed. Before you could scream again you were sat up against a wall, figures dancing in your corroded sight. Your face, tainted as it was with scars, was wet with tears - bloody tears mind you - and drool from your stuck-open mouth, moaning and gasping and sobbing.

Your entire body shook as someone sat beside you, not saying anything for a moment. Finally, you heard a choked cry that wasn’t your own from that shadow beside you.

“What’s wrong..?” It whispered. The voice was soft and scratchy, as though it hadn’t been used in a long while. You sobbed again as the flames licked your terrorized flesh.

“The fire…” you murmured. Though before it could speak again you spoke more. “It took them from me… it burns… everything hurts… my leg…” your voice grew ever quieter as you strained, double vision making it hard to see your lap as you looked down and towards the leg that burned oh so painfully. In a moment of agonizing pain, your hands wrapped around the dead weight of your leg, teeth grinding together as you pulled at it. The voice gasped as you screamed out, the leg finally being torn from your body and launched across the field of grass you lay on. You cried harder as it flew and clattered against the dirt, the pain only getting worse. The voice was silent for only a moment more before speaking again.

“What do you need me to do?” It whispered, and you screamed. “MAKE IT STOP!.. MAKE THE FIRE STOP OH PLEASE!! IT BURNS LIKE HELL I CAN’T TAKE IT!!!” Your cries echoed as you slid on the wall until you were curled in a sideways fetal position, face pressed against the grass as you hiccupped.

More muddled voices filled your hearing as your vision blurred and danced, making the world spin and leap, disorienting you further. You pushed your head into your leg, sobbing even louder still. It stayed silent for a bit longer but the presence came closer and began breathing loudly, holding his breath for a couple seconds and exhaling just as loud. He did this a couple times and you couldn't help to copy, your breathing slowly matching that of the other's. Your tears still fell, but the shuddering came to a halt.

"(Y/n), where are you right now?" He questioned. You kept breathing, thinking with your eyes closed.

"I'm outside. T-the manor is on fire and... and uhm-" "Breathe." You nodded, stopping to breathe. The person beside you also kept breathing with you, emphasizing the deep breaths and long exhales.

"You're not outside, (Y/n). You're in a hallway inside the manor." Your breath shuttered and his breathing immediately got louder and you followed. "That night was a few month ago. The manor is fully rebuilt. You're in a hallway just outside the study. It's around... one? One AM, I believe." You nodded, still in fetal position. You whined, and curled a bit further into yourself. The other sighed and scooted closer.

"(Y/n)... can you look at me please?" You shivered, but nodded again. It took you a few seconds but eventually you were able to sit yourself back up and looked over, meeting the teary eyes of Ciel. You blinked, staring at him. It took you a moment, really taking in the fact that he was before you, not in the manor? You finally began looking around, breathing growing heavy again as tears welled up in your eyes.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), look at me. You need to keep breathing." You nodded but kept looking around. You sniffed, rubbing at your face and eyes and itching at any burns on your face. "(Y/n), can you stop scratching please?" You huffed, and didn't comply. In fact, you scratched a little harder, skin braking and breathing a bit harder. You heard Ciel shuffle around, before appearing before you. He stared into your eyes, then raised his hands slowly. They slowly moved to your wrists, but you flinched back, thus making Ciel flinch. He kept looking you in the eye, an unspoken staring contest sparking between you. He broke it first, sighing.

"(Y/n), may I touch you?" You jumped, staying silent. You continued to stare, breathing deeply more. You nodded. He nodded as well, once more moving slowly and steadily to gently grip your wrists, pulling them from your face. You looked down as he muttered something about needing to bandage the wounds.

"Sebastian in going through the house and putting out all the fireplaces." Ciel suddenly mentioned. You looked up, still allowing him to hold onto you - which was now him holding your hands in his lap - and tilted your head, silently asking him what he meant.

"Earlier you said something about fire," he was purposely omitting what you said, you noticed, "So I sent him off. To put out all the fires in the manor, I mean." You got the double meaning relatively fast. He understood the man made you remarkably uncomfortable, and sent him away before you could even recognize he was there. You nodded again, acknowledging his statement.

“Do you want me to bring you your leg?” He asked. You squinted and he sighed. “I meant- Your prosthetic. Would you like me to bring your prosthetic leg to you? As well as your cane?” Your head rapidly shook and you shrunk into yourself.

“Do you want to go to your bedroom? Or office?” He looked confused, which was fair as you shook your head again. “Do you want to… stay here?” Finally you sighed. Ciel continued to sit before you, taking in the sight of such a shaken version you.

You looked so tired, eyes sunken and sweat rolling down your forehead. Your scarred and heavily bandaged face still had tear tracks, and the bandages trailed beneath the collar of your shirt and traced your arms and - assumedly - your remaining leg. You still shook a little, though much less than earlier. Your hair was a mess of fly-away’s and frizz, some even stuck to your cheek from when you collapsed in your office.

Both you and Ciel stared at each other, taking each other in. The signs of trauma literally stamped themselves all across you both, tailing each of you with a scent of death that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin. For a moment, both your breaths stilled. Then you started crying again.

Your head curled towards your chest, hands rushing to your face. Ciel immediately went to comfort you, but your head was then thrown back, knocking back on the wall, though that didn’t deter your laughter. A wide grin had found with way onto your face, eyes closed and tears streaming down your cheeks. Both your hands quickly found their way around Ciel’s shoulders, drawing him into a tight hug. Your head rested on his, sobbing into his hair.

Ciel sat there, gobsmacked, but finally leaned into your touch, his arms embracing you and nuzzled into your chest, tears finally finding their way into his eyes, and a muffled wail made its way from his throat.

“You’re here with me..! I... I can feel you! Don’t leave, okay? P-promise me you won’t leave..!” You cried. Ciel was pulled firmly into your lap so you could fully wrap around him, entirely engulfing him in your embrace. Both of you continued to hold each other, sobbing and laughing and crying. Everything seemed to piece together as you held each other, finally having your little brother in your arms. He hadn’t been this emotionally available since he returned, and work had kept you from interacting to much with him, so this? Feeling him against you when both of you were long past the line of breaking, it was nice.

Being here, with him, in this moment of weakness, was nice.

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

{𝓝𝓸 𝓞𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥}

Sebastian walked through the halls lit only by the candle in his grip after extinguishing every single fire place in the manor. He walked back to the last place he’d seen his young Master, that being with his older brother in a hall as said brother had an attack.

Sebastian would be a liar to say he hadn’t wanted to be there and “help” - he just wanted to see what that kind of attack was like, really - but unfortunately, he’d been sent off to make the teenager much more comfortable, even if he couldn’t see the fires in other rooms.

Something about “being able to be assured it won’t happen again” or whatever his Master had said.

His eyes stalked the halls, the candle nothing more than a formality as to not scare the children when he would find them, a dull smile plastered on his face. He truly wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and enjoy the latest cat he had stole- adopted.

His brisk pace paused as his gaze finally landed on the intertwined bodies of the two remaining Phantomhive children, (Y/n)’s body enveloping Ciel’s in a firm embrace, the duo sound asleep against the floor. (Y/n)’s leg was a length away, and the candle Ciel had was little more that a nub surrounded by wax. Ciel’s head was cushioned by (Y/n)’s hand, the elders own body being the thing the majority of Ciel’s own body rested on.

Sebastian stared at them for a moment, simply taking in the view, and walked towards them, slipping a hand under (Y/n) and balancing Ciel on top of him, walking them both towards the Earl’s bedroom. The walking seemingly jostled them a bit, as (Y/n) groaned and hugged Ciel tighter. One of his eyes peaked open, looking at Sebastian who kept his eyes forward.

His eyes stayed on the older’s face, trained on his features. Sebastian ignored the look and kept pressing forward through the cold halls, candle somehow still balanced in his hand but far enough to not distress the drowsy boy anymore for the night.

“… Thank you.” (Y/n) muttered, eye closing back and falling back into sleep. Sebastian finally eyed him as the boy snuggled Ciel closer, who only grunted into his chest. The rocking motion led (Y/n) back into slumber, evident by the deep breathing and the most relaxed expression Sebastian had seen on his face.

The Demon only huffed, a ghost of a smile on his face. He walked them to (Y/n)'s bedroom, pulling back the sheets of the bed and laying them both down. He didn't even try to separate them, knowing that it would be useless to even try with them both in the emotional state they were in, even if in sleep.

Sebastian pulled the covers over them, running a hand through both heads of hair. With candle still in hand, he walked out the room, closing the door till a crack, staring at the two children who pulled the other impossibly closer. Something deep in the man's eyes shined, though it was nothing but a dull glimmer.

"Goodnight, Young Masters." He breathed. He gently closed the door behind him, leaving the two to dream the night away.

The moon danced over their sleeping forms, the cloudless night offering stars to light their paths deeper into the realm of sleep. Both subconsciously reaching out to their sibling to calm their troubled minds and finally find some semblance of sleep for the first time in weeks.

Finally reunited, though with much work of reconciliation ahead of them, was nice.

Being together, holding each other; knowing the other was there, safe and sound, was nice.

This first moment of true calm mental silence, was nice.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: I hope this pleases, because for some reason this was incredibly difficult to write. I did, however, give it my all and push through so that I may deliver. Again, I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

-🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved

[d0enti]

“True Beauty” -"Art is never finished, only abandoned"

⋆˚࿔ Fluff bow from Kuro𝜗𝜚˚⋆ :: a bow to finish your outfit

― ʚ summary ɞ ― day 26 of fluffprill painting

― ʚ words ɞ ― 311

― ʚ warning ɞ ― designer found no danger in her creation

― ʚ author note ɞ ― cuties patoties

―𐙚 Killua

Killua...well he isn't an artist I mean he's decent at it enough to consider it a drawing now as for painting well.... there's probably a lot of colours which are splashed a lot it's still art but he will never attempt to actually paint something other than colors everywhere, unless you beg him nicely then he will but only a simple kitty cat drawing or a stick man, it's still something isn't it?

―𐙚 Gon

Similar to Killua, Gon isn't an artist though he's a little better about 0,5% better, Gon will usually try to draw/paint the island for example the beach,forest,his house,a store he remembers and more though he will messed up once in a while for example mix the wrong colours but that only because he never done it, but he's willing to learn for you!

―𐙚 Leorio

You know what I'm about to say aren't you? Another one that is not an artist, Leorio truly wanted to learn how at some point but the amount of shirts that he lost because of that is nuts, literally and paint stains aren't that easy to wash off especially if it dries out, still if you want to paint he will agree and attempt it though with some random shirt he doesn't care about that much if it gets ruined

―𐙚 Kurapika

...yeah I won't repeat that again anyway, Kurapika only drew he never really painted and the drew part only counted when he used a stick on a grass to draw something silly, still Kurapika will attempt to learn especially with you and if you enjoy art though as I said Kurapika never painted but he will try to as hard as he can and hope his clothes won't get destroyed he might as well get a 'paint with my lover' shirt that has paint everywhere because of painting with you