#<- NOT his name but for reach eye suppose it will do

[cherbii]

TOGETHER AGAIN | Ryomen Sukuna

summary -> who knew you’d see your long, lost lover in the midst of Shibuya

warnings -> language, violence, attempted murder, SMUT! p in v, creāmpie, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, high key lovey dovey Sukuna. mdni

Shibuya, at night was cold, though it used to be years back before Shibuya was, well Shibuya. Now the city glowed and was warm from all the electronic billboards and screens plastered on every building, casting flickering hues of purple and blue on the dark tar of the roads.

You weren't supposed to be here, but hours prior, sitting in your chambers did your servant tell you what someone under the name of 'Mahito' planned to do-kill sorcerers.

You decided to join, or at the very least, be present. And you thought that being a special grade curse user would set of alarm bells, you surprisingly went undetected and not disturbed, except for the occasional push and shove, as you meandered your way through the large crowds of city goers, all dressed in tacky, Halloween costumes.

The crowds of Shibuya moved in herds, with an occasional gaggle of obnoxious teenagers that laughed loudly, taking up most of the pathway to leave barely any space for a single person to move. Still, you moved forward, eyes shifting from the large buildings, to the glowing billboards, to the groups of people walking around you.

After a long while, that had felt like forever with how slow you were being pushed forward, you finally reached Shibuya Crossing.

You had yet to find any sorcerer or curse user.

The crossing was alive with people, a wave of bodies moving in unison with the crosswalks, lights flickering, and cars honking their horns impatiently. The only thing you were doing was walking, but you felt like you were being squished between bodies, shoved left and right with loud apologies from strangers.

You didn't blame them either, since the crossing was incredibly busy, with many more joining the throngs of people every minute. You walked until you reached the subway station, it was still alive with movement. It didn't help that Shibuya was the busiest city in Japan, and one of the busiest cities in the world. So it didn't surprise you when the underground station was packed with people, going to wherever they needed to go.

You slowly made your way through them, your mind still on finding Mahito. You wondered if this was a waste of your time. You crossed cities to be here, and still, nothing. With a long sigh you found a bench, and sat on it.

There was a person sitting on it already, a man, no younger than 40, who was ridiculously dressed as a scarecrow. Upon noticing your arrival he sat up. "Hey, girl. What's a pretty thing like you doing in a subway. Should be out modelling."

You felt like you had the urge to slaughter the man, though you kept your composure. Just the way he addressed you, pissed you off instantly, but you couldn't do anything.

The man sat up straight, his long legs spread, as he leaned forward, trying to make conversation with you. His eyes looked you up and down, making your skin crawl.

"Thank you." You curtly and politely replied, folding your hands in your lap.

The man smiled, his lips curling back, revealing a set of yellowing teeth that was stained with god knows what. The man continued to speak, his eyes trailing down your body. "I mean it. You're so pretty. You ever modeled?"

You felt your yukata tug, the pale fabric now between his slender fingers rolling the material. You clicked your tongue, pulling it out from his grip. "No, I haven't."

For a split second, the man frowned, as if he were thrown off that you had snatched it away, though quickly a smile was formed. "Awh, c'mon. Don't you think your body is good enough for modeling? I mean, you've got a pretty face, no doubt. I know there are magazines that take pretty girls like you."

The man licked his lips, as if he were about to say something dirty after. The man continued, moving closer to your body.

"You just gotta, show them what they wanna see, y'know? It'll be easy. I mean, with a body like that, you won't have trouble getting hired."

His hand moved up your thigh, and it took every ounce of you not to snap his arm like a twig. The mans fingers trailed up your thigh, inching closer to the edge of your skirt, before you slapped his hand away, the sound resounding in the near quiet station.

The man looked shocked, seemingly taken off guard. He stared at his hand blankly, as if he didn't expect you to be the type to slap him. His eyes flicked to you, narrowing slightly, though his facade of a smile quickly was placed back on to mask his annoyance. The man quickly shook his head, and forced a chuckle.

"C'mon. I ain't got no bad intentions, girl. I was just trying to give you some advice. I was just trying to say that—.” His fingers trailed up your thigh once again, his fingers crawling like spiders, the tips of his nails digging in your skin hard, to the point it was uncomfortable.

Your hand flew out to his, your fingers gripping it, his skin fizzled and sizzled as you allowed for your curse technique to work. "I'd advise you to keep your hands to yourself from how."

The man let out a sharp cry of pain, his fingers trembling in your grip as he began to sweat profusely. If it wasn't for all the people around, he probably would've cursed you out, but instead he just stared at your hand in disbelief, feeling his skin melted under your hands.

With a sigh, you let go of his hand, before folding your hands back into your lap. The man ripped his hand back, gasping to see that there was no physical damage to his skin, in fact it looked the same, but he felt a searing burn to it. He didn't believe what he was seeing, or what he was feeling, but he got the message clear loud and clear.

The man quickly got up, muttering to himself under his breath, as he walked away, throwing side glances at you every so often as he left.

"My, that was impressive." A soft, male voice said from behind you. The voice was light and sweet, but had a sarcastic undertone to it. Upon hearing it, you felt a shiver up your back, even though it was a relatively cool night. When you looked behind you, someone was slowly approaching you, their hands in their pockets.

You noticed his hair before anything else, it was a pale mint colour, then was his raggedy outfit, then his stitches, and at last, his silver, blind eye. "So you're Mahito?" You asked, looking up at the man.

The man titled his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile as if he were impressed. His hands were still in his pockets, as he slowly strutted over to you. His eyes scanned you from the top of your head to your feet as he stood in front of you, his smile only getting wider.

"In the flesh."

You hum. "So, where are the other curses and the sorcerers?"

Mahito grinned, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. He shook his head, as if he were about to tell you what he did was some funny inside joke, though quickly he cleared his throat and shook off the smile.

"Oh, you know." Mahito took a few steps forward till he was standing beside you, his eyes flicking to yours momentarily before looking over the people around the station. "Busy, fighting one another. It's such a hassle, don't you think? I mean, I'm just so strong that there aren't any sorcerers fighting me! Though that Gojo guy is definitely trying to find me."

You had heard of him, Gojo Satoru, his name brought dread to curses.

Mahito shrugged. "Wonder why the others haven't tried to find me, maybe they're dead," he grinned. "I did cast a veil, but oh well—."

Just as Mahito finished speaking, an object whizzed past your head, barely missing it, before it dug into the wall— a nail. "Shit, I missed. Megumi, a little help over here?" A girl yelled, before preparing to hit another nail over.

"Spoke too soon, there's they are! Precious sorcerers." Mahito sighed, not looking over to where the nail had been thrown. Mahito groaned audibly, shaking his head as if he were a disappointed teacher, which in a way, he was.

He clicked his tongue in fake annoyance, leaning close to your ear to murmur under his breath, to make sure the sorcerer didn't hear him.

"Such a buzzkill." He slid off, before taking on a full blown sprint, away from the sorcerers and disappearing into the crowds, his touch turning the people nearby into ugly things, skin melting into hideous rolls.

The two were stunned to see the people around them melt into disgusting masses of flesh, screams, cries, and panic was thrown around by the crowds of people. The sorcerers just stood in horror, watching people's skin peel off and deform.

Mahito was having the time of his life, grinning ear to ear, and giggling as he ran through the crowds of people.

Sorcerers who you hadn't seen before went after Mahito, leaving you with the girl, and boy who you assumed was 'Megumi’z

Something sharp and cold hit and dug into your neck, like a pin prick. You reached a hand around and pulled the object out of your neck—it was another nail, then it combusted, fazing right through you.

You turned your head to face the girl with a glare at the fact you had been interrupted again, and you held the nail in your hand, examining it.

They had to be the ones who tried and failed to catch Mahito, and they had tried to kill you too even though it didn't work. Megumi watched, though his lips were still in a straight line.

The girl clenched her jaw, her lips slightly parted, as if she were confused how you weren't dead.

"What? It didn't even do damage..." the girl mumbled.

Megumi growled in anger, "Shit, where's Nanami?" Megumi clicked his tongue, his fists shaking as he let his hand hang by his side. He began to turn his head, searching through the people who were running, trying to find the person he had mentioned.

The girl looked just as frustrated, her fists clenched as her nails dug into her palms. She let out a loud huff, her lips curling down into a frown. The girl raised her hammer, and hit more nails at you, and even though they did little to no damage, you still pranced around avoiding them.

"Finally, someone who can have a little fun!" You cheer, stepping out from the bench.

The girl was definitely frustrated now, even more than she had been before. The fact you were doing something the exact opposite of what she wanted pissed her off. The girl let out a scoff, looking over to Megumi.

Megumi sighed under his breath, his jaw clenched, and his eyes flicked between you and his partner. His fists clenched at his side, his nails digging into his palms. He seemed to be doing his best to keep his patience.

You planted your foot on the ground before speeding off to the two. The duo quickly got into a defensive position, their eyes not leaving you. Megumi moved to stand in front of the girl.

The girl moved her hammer, ready to hit you as you approached. You struck out a hand, letting it glow red before a jet of manipulated acid shot out, forming a shape of a spear before plummeting it to the two.

Megumi grabbed the girls wrist and tugged her aside, using his free hand to block the acid with a burst of water, a burst of smoke filled in the space around the area.

The girl grunted, staring at you through the clearing smoke. She looked frustrated. Megumi had a cool and calmer look on his face, the only thing showing any kind of feeling being the sweat dripping down the side of his cheek.

The other people, though terrified, were in your way. The people who were in the way began to notice and move, though most were having trouble getting themselves out of the way in time.

Those who did move ran to safety, most of the people in the station were scattering away. Leaving a rather large open space in between the group of fighters, and the still panicked citizens.

The only downside was the large number of civilians being in the crossfire of this fight.

You let add a noise of annoyance, before putting your thumbs together, hands open, mumbling your curse technique. Thick waves of acid out, the pearly liquid engulfing the civilians, devouring their bodies until they were nothing.

The duo couldn't believe what they were seeing. Megumi stared at the puddle of sludge that the people's bodies had become, his lips in a straight line from shock. The girl looked shocked, but not as much as Megumi, her eyes darted from you to the civilians you had slain with the wave of acid.

Megumi clasped his hands together, yelling, "Demon dogs!" before a large wolf like a dog, both white and black in colour jumped out from behind him, barrelling towards you.

Megumi was quick with whatever he was doing, as the large wolf quickly sprung into action and charged forward, running at you. It didn't seem like it slowed down even when it had to leap over a pile of acid.

The dog was fast, and was on you in seconds, not allowing you much time to react. You sent another wave of acid towards the dog. The dog tried to dodge and weave through the acid, though it had no success. The large dog was hit, its legs melting under the acid, as it's body was reduced to a pile of goo.

The girl stared down at the puddle of dog with a shocked expression, not sure how you'd managed to melt a shikigami with such ease.

"Bye, bye!" You exclaimed, before raising a fist, forming a thought acidic bubble around you before it collapsed, having you nowhere to be seen. Megumi let out a curse under his breath as you were gone, not sure where you had gone after that show of power.

The girl gritted her teeth with her lips in a flat line, looking around frantically to see if she could identify your next move.

Somewhere else in Shibuya, on the side of a building, did you emerge from an acidic rip. You had the vantage point, and the view of Shibuya at night, with everything lit up and the people scrambling around in chaos, was beautiful.

The sky, however was unusually pitch black, a veil. Where you stood, there was already chaos, you could tell by the damaged buildings and property. There were cracks and holes in the roads, with a lot of buildings being half broken. The veil above was dark, not a sign of light other than the stars peeking around it.

You strolled down the streets, distantly hearing noise. The noise was quiet, sounding like murmurs and cries, until the faint sound of fighting reached your ears. The sound was definitely getting closer, and the longer you walked, the clearer it got. There was fighting going on somewhere near.

You rounded a corner, and the fighting seemed to be getting closer. If you continued walking, you would be approaching the fight.

The further you walked, the stronger the stench of blood and death got. The more you walked, the more the buildings melted into a heap of nothingness. It seemed it was either you climb the mess, or turn around, so naturally, you began to climb.

It felt like this area was completely destroyed, with nothing but rubble for miles.

You began to climb the debris, using your cursed technique as an extra grip for your feet. The only issue was the fact it was difficult to climb, with the pieces of building falling, or giving no grip. The noise of chaos got louder on the other side, now you reached the peak, looking down at a large number of people fighting two, and upon squinting, you recognised one.

Your cursed technique bubble under your feet, burning away a smooth path for you as you climbed down, heading straight for the white and partly red haired woman. "Uraume? Is that you?"

Uraume was currently occupied with fighting off two students, who were trying their best to fight back. When Uraume heard your voice, her head turned around, eyes wide, then a smile tugged at her lips. She spoke up, though she didn't look away from the students. "Is that you, my Lady?"

"Yes, what a pleasant surprise," you replied, small smile gracing your face as though you didn't walk straight through a fight. You looked over to the other curse user, his long, raven hair flowing in the wind as he sent shikigami after shikigami to the six other sorcerers. "Need any help?"

Uraume let out a small laugh, her lips curling upward in a small smile as she looked you up and down. She seemed to be quite happy to hear your voice, and in her time of need. At your question, Uraume shook her head, a confident look placed on her face. "I can handle these students."

You just hummed. "Alright, I'll go see what's happening over there."

Uraume nodded, keeping her focus on her own opponents before you had moved off. The chaos down below was overwhelming, with the sounds of explosions, fighting and cursing echoed.

For this man, you didn't ask if you needed help, instead shooting a web of acid, the liquid solidifying as it shot through the air, wrapping around two students who were fighting side by side—an overly large panda, and a boy who's eyes were shut closed, odd.

You ran over, narrowly avoiding getting sucked into a dark abyss caused by none other than the other curse user as slimes, ugly shikigami's shot out and attacked the other students. Your next target was a girl with blue hair.

She had a long sword in her hand, swinging it boldly when she heard you bearing towards her. "Two can play at that game, girl." You chuckled, forming an acidic sword.

The girl watched you for a while before taking notice of your appearance. She kept her composure, though a nervous feeling bubbled up in her stomach. The girl was a little hesitant, but readied her blade anyway, her eyes narrowed at you.

Your sword blade clinked against hers. The girl grit her teeth slightly, her blade clashing against yours. She wasn't exactly a great sword fighter, though she held her composure as she glared at you.

The force of her swing was quite powerful. She seemed to take you seriously, not underestimating like other people may have. Her foot stepped forward, trying to shove you away, before shoving her sword in an upwards motion.

Your sword went flying, dissolving into a puddle which burned a hole in the ground. You clicked your tongue. "I've gotten weak." You murmured, allowing for her sword to fade through you, the metal melting from the acid you covered yourself with.

The girl cursed under her breath, quickly pulling her sword back and taking a few steps away. The girl stared in disbelief, but shook off the feeling. She had never seen anything like that, that was for sure.

You let the acidic barrier drop, spinning to face the girl. "Acid, is acid." You muttered, striking out a hand to touch the girl. She lets out a noise of surprise, her stomach feeling sore.

You were going to manipulate her stomach acid, let it harden and turn to sharps, piercing her, before you felt an inkling to raise your acidic barrier up, right before something that resembled a blood spike shot right through you. Obviously, you felt nothing, but couldn't help look at the perpetrator.

A man, with a tattooed nose, and pinned up hair stood, palms pressed against each other, shooting out a long, red beam. He seemed to be a curse user as well, though he was attacking you. Had he turned on curse users's beliefs?

The man grunted, shaking his head, as he kept his palms pressed against one another to keep firing his blood technique at you. He was focused, eyebrows furrowed, as his lips pulled back into a grimace, making him look even more intimidating.

"Hm, I pity you," you said, forming an acidic bubble around you, teleporting you to roght behind the man. "You're still weak, even for a special grade." You reached a hand out, quickly latching it onto him before changing the form and matter of his stomach acid.

The man cursed, his breath hitching as he tried to fight back. He wasn't ready at all to face the feeling of something being messed with his stomach, his insides felt like it was in fire. The man gasped, groaning, as he stared at you, with his eyes wide in horror. He didn't feel himself melt, but he could feel something horrible happening inside of him.

"Let's see, do you think you're going to heaven or hell?" You asked, flexing your fingers, making his stomach acid harden and grow sharp.

The man's face contorted in pain, his knees buckling as he fell forward to the ground. The man couldn't even try to answer you, the pain of manipulation of his cursed energy was a feeling no other curse or sorcerer could experience.

His head smacked against the ground, as his body jolted, as if he were seizing. You let it turn into a spear head, gradually growing and piercing his organs until the tip made a dent in his skin. The man stared at his chest, his eyes watering as more tears began to drop from his eyes. His vision blurred, and he couldn’t the difference between his tears or blood or the veil or even his manipulation.

He stared at the dent in his chest before raising his eyes to meet yours, as he wheezed, the tips of his fingers trembling. The man let out a small, pained laugh, wheezing through the pain, before a small smile tugged at his lips. Through the pain in his stomach, he had no idea why, but he found you incredibly impressive.

Though you found him boring, this wasn't fun, you thought. So instead you removed your hand, leaving the man hurt, but not dead, not yet anyway, and decided to target someone else. Your eyes landed on two poeple fighting side by side, a girl with glasses and forest green hair, twirling a large sword and fighting off shikigamis, and a boy, who's hair was a blush pink.

The duo was fighting a horde of shikigamis, and seemed to be doing it with ease. The girl swung the sword around with a rather graceful finesse. While the man's fists were balled, throwing punch after punch, and using his hands to grab and flick aside or break the shikigamis when they came too close.

Both seemed to be doing great, not noticing you at all in the midst of the battlefield, which was to your advantage. Uraume's offer was perfect, as well as very convenient. With all the chaos it was unlikely to get the chance again.

You found yourself grinning, as you looked over to Uraume, giving a small nod. You formed acid under your feet, using it to slide to the girl before shooting a tentacle of acid to her sword, melting the metal.

The girl gasped, jumping back as the tentacles of acid shot out, melting her sword. She didn't see that coming, looking down at her now melted sword in disbelief, as she stared at where you suddenly were now standing.

She clenched her fists, but remained calm as she stepped into a defensive position, even if she was without a weapon for now. The girl wasn't about to give up this fight, despite the odds being against her.

The boy noticed, his eyes flicking from Uraume to you, his eyes widening at the scene. The boy let out an annoyed groan, punching more shikigamis to a pulp with ease in frustration. His fists were red, bruised and bleeding, but that seemed to drive him to hit harder.

Uraume was shooting ice daggers at the boy. The boy had managed to block out the first few, but the last few hit his arms. He winced at each hit, his skin getting slightly cut, just nothing major.

The boy grit his teeth in frustration, letting out a loud huff as he focused his gaze on Uraume, his own eyes narrowing further. The girl had no time to react to the sudden tentacle of acid, and it came crashing down on her.

She felt the warm, hot liquid on her skin and let out a sharp cry of pain, her skin sizzling as it burnt. She tried to jump out of the way, but her movements were stiff. The acid kept raining down, burning a hole in the ground.

The girl's skin turned red at first, then it quickly melted, the acid having melted through her clothes, and eating at her skin, the liquid burning into her flesh and muscle as the girl let out a painful cry.

She was still alive, somehow, coughing and wheezing, as she tried desperately to keep herself together. The boy clenched his fists, clenching his teeth together as he watched, his eyes wide. He wanted to jump in, but soon felt ice envelope him, now having him stationary in the cold, frozen cube.

The boy tried to fight the ice, his limbs trembling from the cold seeping into his bloodstream, but it was futile. He felt his legs, arms and fingers turning numb as he let out painful grunts, his breath turning visible.

The other curse user with the flowing black hair grumbled under his breath, before changing out another shikigami, a shimmering dragon, before it picked him up and took him elsewhere.

Uraume scoffed, wiping her cold lips before turning to you. "You did very well, My Lady." You heard Uraume, letting a small smirk tug at your lips. You had killed with ease, without even really getting hurt. It was satisfying to say the least.

You had to admit, the fight was fun too, as well as seeing the other curse users get frustrated. "Thank you, Uraume, you did good as well."

However, what you two failed to notice was on each side of the cheeks of the pinkette boy, two slits opened, revealing a pair of red eyes, both staring at you.

Something strummed in the boy's chest, something intense, a voice boomed and roared in his head, demanding to be free. The boy's eyes opened wide, staring directly at you. The more he looked at you, the more he felt something, an odd, intense feeling bubble up in his chest.

The veins in his arms and on his neck could be seen, as he began to tremble from the intense feeling in his chest.

The voice growled, before mumbling "enchain", spontaneously switching forms. The boy gasped as his form changed, large scars appearing over his body as well as his hair and eyes. His teeth grew into sharp canines, and his nails turned black, almost like claws. He let out an inhuman growl, his chest heaving as he seemed to get even taller and muscular.

The ice block melted instantly, revealing the monster of a man you loved, though not in true form, but still as equally terrifying. His huffs turned to laughs, then a malicious chuckle that boomed, causing your attention to turn, a small gasp leaving your lips.

No, it can't be.

Your Ryomen had been killed and chopped up.

Uraume instantly dropped to her knees, bowing at the king. "Master Sukuna, I'm sorry." She murmured.

Sukuna's chuckles died down. "You're forgiven." He muttered, brushing her off, before his scarlet eyes were on you again. It was almost easy to miss the way his eyes widened, or his jaw lax, or the way his frown shallowed.

Sukuna's eyes fell on you, his gaze was heavy as he stared at you. Sukuna wasn't a soft man, he was rough and he was cruel, but even he could feel something well in his chest as he stared. He hadn't seen you in so long. He felt something, a warm, heavy, intense feeling in his chest that he couldn't put his finger on. What was he feeling?

You blinked. "Ryo...?" You whispered, bringing your fingers to your lips.

Sukuna's breath hitched in his throat as he heard you call his name. He had missed you. He was in shock, his lips parting as he just watched your every move. He couldn't really process seeing you again after so long. He felt his lips slightly quiver in surprise, a thousand more emotions welling up in his chest as he tried to form words. Sukuna took slow steps towards you, as he was just taking in your appearance now.

He was trying so hard not to let his feelings get the better of him, though that was hard as he came to stop a few feet away from you. Sukuna had millions of unspoken words that filled his head, he kept staring at you quietly.

Something surged within you, causing you to bounce over to him and throwing your arms around his still large frame, laughter bubbling from you. "It's you! It's you! It's you!"

Sukuna felt his breath hitch in his breath as you threw yourself onto him, your arms around him in a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, his breath hitching again as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

The others who were trapped in ice could only watch in horror, they didn't know what was more terrifying; the King of Curses, or the King of Curses being nice.

Sukuna could just barely feel his hands trembling against the fabric of your clothes. He was trying to hide it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was shaking from the adrenaline and emotions in his chest.

You couldn't fend off the tears that pebbled at your eyelashes as you leant back to look at your lover. "I missed you so, so, so much, Ryo."

Sukuna's whole demeanor felt soft and tender as you looked at him. He was vulnerable, though he tried his hardest to conceal it. He had missed you too, he missed you so much that it had hurt these few months apart.

He gently held your chin, his thumb wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye as he couldn't stop looking at you. He was still in disbelief you were here, in front of him. Sukuna quickly pulled you back to him, his fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes as he held you closely, not wanting to let you go. Sukuna held you against him, his grip tightening as he gently nuzzled his face into your neck. He couldn't believe you were here in his arms again, after so much time he spent wondering if he would ever see you again.

"I missed you too brat, so much." He muttered against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. His large hands roamed up and down your back, his hands trailing up to gently place his hand on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

Sukuna had missed so much in these few centuries. He had missed holding you like this even though he didn't do it often with you, he missed the small moments spent together when you were alone, he missed your sweet smile and laugh, everything.

The King of Curses was weak at the moment, he had been through much, but seeing you like this made him feel almost whole again.

You untangled yourself from him. "How are you even alive? I thought..."

Sukuna looked down at you, he had missed your small form. He had missed looking down at you, the corners of his lips tugged up as he heard your question. He gently held you at arms length, his large hands still on your shoulders.

"It's a long story," he sighed. He gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your cheek in the process before his hand moved to the nape of your neck.

Sukuna could feel his emotions swelling again. He wanted to hold you in his hold again, or kiss you. So many things he had missed, he was like a starved man who was just offered a meal. His thumb gently ran over your cheek as he kept his scarlet eyes on your form, just taking you in again after all this time.

"All these foolish sorcerers, they're in my way," Sukuna murmured, a finger tapping his chin. "All the better." He shrugged, before bringing his fingers together and chanting out his domain expansion. You and Sukuna were sucked into the domain, rendering you two alone.

Uraume managed to escape the inky globe that was now hovering in Shibuya.

Your shoes were submerged in the same waters of Sukuna's domain, just below the hill of skulls.

He was say on his thrown at the very top of the hill of bones. Sukuna let out a soft chuckle as his domain swallowed the area, the two of you ending up alone together. He was in the same domain again, his territory of skulls and a lake of blood.

Sukuna sat on his throne, looking down at you with a small smirk on his lips He beckoned for you, his gaze fixated on you. The only thing he wanted right now was this, you. "Come here, brat." Sukuna was a man of few words, especially in private. But he wanted, needed you by his side for now. The only thing he wanted to do was see you, touch you... and possibly take you back to the palace with him.

He wanted this, he needed this.

You began your ascent to him, stepping on mandibles and maxilla's, eagerly wading to your lover. Sukuna's eyes remained on you, watching your every step upwards towards him. He held his hands together, waiting for you to approach the throne. He couldn't hide his smile as his lips tugged back, seeing you walk towards him. It felt like a dream to him, that after months you were finally approaching him again. It felt like forever.

When you reached the top, Sukuna wasted no time to pull you by your yukata, sending you crashing onto his lap. His head was instantly back to your neck. You helped when you felt his tongue dart out, then his teeth. "Ryo, what the hell?"

Sukuna let out a small chuckle as you complained, but he only placed his lips against the crook of your neck, a small huff leaving him. "I just want to remind myself how you taste. You have no idea how much I missed you, brat. You're going to get me addicted again." Sukuna's voice was almost a growl.

You brought a hand to his hair and gently pulled back, wanting to see his face. "What's got you so eager?"

Sukuna let out an almost growl, glowering at you. "All these centuries, I haven't seen you. Why wait for more time to pass? I'm only getting older." He latched a hand to your neck before sliding it up, to your jaw, where he turned and struck out his forefinger, shoving it past your lips.

Sukuna's fingers threaded through your hair gently, allowing you to move his head back. Sukuna had missed your gentle touch, his eyes narrowing at your question. He wanted to keep you close, never wanting you out of his sight ever again.

Being in his domain expansion, having you in his hold so he could just touch you, see you right in front of him, was heavenly for the King of Curses. It had been months and he had missed you more than he had imagined he would.

His finger gently ran across the inside of your mouth, his scarlet eyes boring into you. He felt that intense, warm feeling in his chest again, his fingers trembling gently against your jaw.

Sukuna slithered his finger deeper into your mouth, nail scratching your throat. "I've wrecked homes, torn villages to shreds. Gutted morons and pests, yet none give me the thrill of seeing you at my mercy." He purred, bringing his free hand to the folds of your dress, and tugging at the seams.

Sukuna ran his eyes over your form, taking you in. He pressed his finger against the back of your throat, his nail scratching it while his other hand tugged at the seams of your clothes, trying to get the fabric to move more so he could see more of your waist.

Sukuna's eyes flicked down to your cleavage, feeling his breath hitch as he huffed. He wanted your damn clothes gone, just seeing it only irritated him more.

He had missed feeling you in his hold. He missed you against his chest, his large hands roaming over your body. Sukuna wanted to mark you. He wanted to leave marks all over you, making every other sorcerer know that you belonged to him and him alone.

He wanted to ruin you.

Sukuna grunted, your dress not coming off, so he would use the one thing he thought of. You whimpered as you felt flames kiss your skin, before your yukata was in ashes, presenting you almost bare, bar your underwear. Sukuna let out a pleased grunt as he watched your dress disintegrate into ash. He wanted to see more, and you in next to nothing was amazing.

He took a minute to admire your half-naked form, running his fingers along your skin, taking advantage of the skin-to-skin contact he had missed for months with a hum.

You choked on his finger, squirming in his lap. It was unfair how he was fully clothed, you thought. Sukuna could smell your arousal, could sense it, but he was fine with it. He'd get to that in due time. He wasn't going to move fast.

As you squirmed in his lap, his hand moved to your thighs, his fingers digging his nails into the skin there to hold you still, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thighs. Sukuna's own clothing felt constricting. He wanted you. He wanted you here and now, to feel you against him, for you to belong with him.

His grip on your inner thighs tightened, as his lips pressed against your collarbone, kissing it and sucking harshly. Sukuna wanted to leave his mark on your skin, to claim you as his own.

You reached your hands to between the two of you, digging them under the cream coloured fabric of his kimono, trying to pull it free. Slowly, the fabric peeled back to reveal his rippling, inked muscles. It wasn't enough, eagerly you tugged further down the kimono, pulling at the cloth around Sukuna's waist until he too was bare; rock hard and leaking, achingly thick and blissfully long.

You blinked up at him, giving him your best pleading expression, even with his finger far in your mouth, just needing to be filled by him.

Sukuna saw how you looked up at him, seeing your expression. What a sight it was as he kept his own large finger moving inside your mouth. He wanted you, so badly, he wanted to completely take you.

Sukana removed his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting from it to your lips. His large hands fell on your waist, lifting you a bit. Noticing how you immediately reacted to that, his lips pulled into a smirk as he watched your expression

"Please, Ryo? Need you to be inside me." You begged, fruitlessly jutting your hips, earning faint pleasure between your legs, though it would never suffice.

Sukuna felt himself twitch in anticipation as your words, a low growl escaping his throat. That's what he had missed the most, hearing you like that, hearing you beg for his touch. He grabbed your hips, pinning them down.

He wanted to break you, make you forget anything apart from him, but he wasn't going to move fast. He took his time, he wanted to take you slow, make it last long and just relish the feeling of you being back in his arms. "Are you so impatient for me, brat?" He cooed

Sukuna gently traced his fingertips along the lace fabric of your underwear, his eyes looking up to meet yours. A smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his fingertips over you, teasing you.

"Yes. Just, please? I need this as much as you do." You whined, shooting a hand to your underwear and shoving it to the side, now presenting your dripping cunt.

Sukana let out a low, pleased growl. He loved how you were so eager for him, it was satisfying. He watched you impatiently as you pleaded, his smirk still on his lips. "So eager for me, huh?" Sukana taunted, knowing the answer as his fingers traced small shapes against your inner thighs, his nails scratching the skin. "You think you can take me? It's only one cock, yet you still struggle. Maybe I need to stretch that pussy." Sukuna huffed, bringing two, thick digits to your hole.

So in a blink of an eye, he plunged his fingers inside, not giving you any prep before hand. You let out a loud moan, it echoed through the domain, fingers curling around the fabric on Sukuna's shoulders. "Oh, my god!" Sukuna began to piston his fingers, scissoring the two as he thrusted them into your pulsating hole.

Sukana let out a small groan, just how he remembered, you weren't quiet even a little. Not that he minded, he loved it.

He groaned, his eyes fixated on you as he watched your expression. All the noises you made filled his head, he wanted to listen to you, all night. He wanted to break you, claim you, and make you his again. He curled his fingers, hitting that one spot inside you, that had your toes curl and your mind fog up.

Sukuna's eyes flicked up at your reaction, a pleased, low chuckle escaped his lips as he curled his fingers. He knew that spot, knew it well. After all, it's not like this was his first time doing this to you.

He wanted to hear you beg for more, he loved it. He pressed his fingers against it again, enjoying the way your chest heaved, making more noises for him as the two of you sat on the throne. Sukuna smirked at the faces you made, bringing a hand to your breasts, second mouth forming on his palm, before his lips wrapped around your sensitive nub.

Your sensitive body seemed to react so quickly to Sukana's every move, and he loved everything about it. This was his kingdom, and you were currently his queen, in front of him, in his lap, and all his. Not to mention the small moans he heard leaving you, the way your nails dug into his skin, driving him nearly insane over you.

Sukana's lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple, his cursed energy wrapping around you as his tongue moved in soft, but precise circles over it. He was working you well, making you whine and moan for him in the quiet domain, filling the silence with your sounds of pleasure, a chorus to his ears as it bounced off the walls of his domain. The small moans and noises you made were music to his ears. Sukana wanted you to feel good, to feel him take over you, and the way you arched into his lips showed he was doing just

"P-Please, Ryo? Can't wait anymore, need to feel you..."

Sukana almost smirked, almost. Hearing you beg him, call his name like that. It drove him insane, and he needed to give in. He moved, picking you up, and moving you out of his lap so he could stand, pinning you against the throne.

He stood before you, holding you against the throne as he looked down at you, his hands on your waist. "Fine, brat. I'll give you what you want," Sukuna clicked his tongue, moving his hips until his throbbing, red tip was aligned with your entrance. "But don't say it's too much."

In one, fluid movement, he thrusted himself in. His cock stretched your cunt beyond its limits, and what was scary is this wasn't the biggest he could be.

He grunted softly, his eyes falling close for a brief moment as he savored the feeling of you around him. He loved this. He loved the feeling of you, the way you felt around him, the way you were his. Sukana held your waist, his fingers pressed into your skin there as he looked you over. He couldn't believe he had you back, like this too.

Sukuna was merciless. Pounding away into you like there was no tomorrow, causing the throne to shift on the bones and skulls. All you could do was take the bullying between your legs, screaming his name, nails clawing at his shoulders. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Love your cock, so much, my lord!"

His title that fell from your lips sent a shiver through him. If anyone knew you had him wrapped around your finger, he'd be a dead man. He huffed and grunted into your ear, breath hot on your skin. "Such a filthy mouth you have, my lady."

You whined, staring up at your lover with teary eyes, mouth agape and blabbering sweet nothings.

Sukuna loved seeing you be so submissive, to him, calling him your lord, your king. He would only let that slide with you. His lips met your neck, kissing and biting at the skin there, leaving marks behind.

The way you felt around him was addicting, and having you beg for him made it better. He had missed this feeling, this pleasure, with you for so long he wanted to savor it. Sukana wanted this to last as much as he could, to make you feel good, and to take you here in his domain.

Sukana's lips traveled up from your neck, to your lips, as he pressed his own against yours in a searing kiss, he moved his tongue over your lips, licking them. He wanted to taste you in every sense he could.

Sukana swallowed all the noises you were making, each noise of yours just added to his enjoyment. He wanted more, more of you. Sukana let his tongue slip into your mouth, exploring and tasting you completely.

The bones of his throne dug into your shoulders, and the buck horns of it dug into your shin. It only added to the pleasure, your nails scratching at his skin, everything did. Sukana wanted to feel it all, the way you felt and sounded as he took you.

Sukana grunted into your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours, his hands now moving to your thighs, and he lifted you up from the throne, using it for leverage, as his hands moved just enough to grip you thighs so he could start moving you again.

He wanted to feel every bit of you, and he didn't want to let you go. He couldn't, so he pushed more, wanting it all. Sukana wanted you to be his in every sense of the word, and now was not the exception. He wanted you to be his, his queen, his lover, his.

He wanted you to call his name, to moan it, scream it, anything. He wanted to ruin you, break you, and claim you as his and his. He wanted to claim and break you all, make you forget anything other than him, anything else.

The moans that left your lips sounded so sweet to him, even sweeter than honey. This was what he had missed, the pleasure the two of you shared, and the feeling of the two of you melting into each other. Sukana wanted to break you, ruin you, make you his for the next days, weeks, months, or years. Sukana was making you feel so good your mind turned to a mess.

You felt everything as he took you. How he moved you, the throne digging into your back, his large hands on your body, making you feel the heat coming off of him. Sukana's lips on yours as he claimed your mouth, his tongue pushing into your mouth, his grunts of pleasure right against you.

Your mind turned to a mess every time Sukana moved, and every moment. It was almost hard to form words with him, but he was perfect.

Sukuna loved the way you moved with him, how you tried to take him as he moved, how you tried to make him feel good too in return. Sukana groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. He loved every second of it, enjoying taking you, breaking you for him.

The feeling of the coil in your tummy tightening was driving him insane, it had been so long since he remembered those signs or saw them from you, but now he was so glad it was back like that.

His movements only got more intense, wanting to see you fall over the edge. Sukana could feel yourself start to tighten around him, the way you would squeeze him in response and it only made him push more. He was desperate for you, wanting to feel and watch you break as you reached your orgasm with him, coating his fat cock with your cum, crying out as you did, while he stuffed you full of his.

He groaned into your mouth, panting and grunting as he moved his lips to your neck again, suckling on the skin there. He wanted to mark you as his, so everyone would know who you belonged to, to him.

There was no one else you belonged to, that would make his blood boil. You belonged to him and nothing would change that.

Your body fell limp, breathing into Sukuna's mouth as you were well worn. Sukana held you up as you went limp, only holding you more. He wasn't done yet but he let you relax for the moment while he looked at you, his fingers gently roaming over your body for the moment, his chest heaving as he also tried to catch his breath.

He still loved to simply hold you and touch you however he could. His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there, adding more marks from his lips, marks to show you were his.

"Ryo...do we have to go back?"

Sukana did not like the thought of having to go back. It was nice being in the domain just with you, being able to hold you and make you his. But he knew this wasn't permanent. Sukana moved his lips from your skin, bringing his fingers under your chin to tilt you to look up at him. “Yes, unfortunately I don’t have full control over this brat so sooner or later I’ll be turning back. But trust I’ll find away to be with you again.”

But that wouldn't always be an option, he knew he would have to go back eventually. For now he savored the moment of having you in his hold, being able to touch you and hold you against him.

And even if it was for a few minutes more, you had your Ryo back.

[midnightorchids]

“Oh my god! You brought another one home,” you exclaimed, pointing at the small animal in Jason’s arms.

“What was I supposed to do, I couldn’t just leave poor Luna all alone,” he said plainly.

Jason smiled looking down at the tiny creature and gently caressed its head. The charcoal kitten nuzzled herself further against him and purred. The image pulled at your heartstrings. There Jason was, this tall, brawny man littered with scars, acting completely soft and domestic.

You reminded yourself to remain strong.

“And you even named her, this is ridiculous! We can’t have three cats, the landlord doesn’t even know about the first two.”

Jason’s eyebrows creased and he sighed heavily, looking almost defeated. Almost. He was not going to back down. He ran a hand through his dark locks and sulked.

“But look at her babe, just look.” He brought the cat closer to you and you stared into her glassy emerald eyes. “She was in trouble, I helped her. Please sweetheart, she doesn’t have a home,” Jason desperately pleaded. You rolled your eyes, there was just no way you both could take care of another pet.

Jason had a habit, everytime there was an animal in danger, he quickly brought them home. He’d feed the strays, take them to the vet and try his very best to bring them back to good health. It was admirable, however, it was starting become an issue. Every cat he encountered was now quickly becoming a part of the family.

“Jay, look, I know you think we can take care of another cat, but I just don’t-“

Before you could complete your sentence, the kitten meowed. That was it. The final straw. It was the softest sound you had ever heard. The small creature was completely and utterly adorable, you couldn’t just give her away.

“Oh no, no, no. She can’t do that, no,” you muttered, reaching a borderline melt down. The cuteness aggression was very real in that moment. The tiny cat stretched in Jason’s arms and he scratched her chin causing her to purr loudly.

“Fuck, okay fine, we can keep her,” and you watched Jason’s lips contort into a large grin. You sat down next to him on the couch and petted the kitten’s head.

Jason smiled again and kissed your cheek.

“We should get a bigger place, the family keeps growing,” he announced and you nodded your head, not entirely aware of what he had just said. You were completely entranced by the animal.

Jason couldn’t stop the look on his face as he admired his two girls. This was home.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Nap now book later

Barbie dolls: Moonwater x gn! Reader

Word: 1.3k

Summary: you’ve been studying too much so your boyfriends pull you from it and make you take a nap

Warnings: regulus has anxiety, uh, regulus gets bullied by the portraits, one singular joke Abt not trusting Peter take it or leave it, tiny mention of rosekiller sorry partyvan fans 💔, regulus has a really hard day, you study too much, possible meal skippage, supposed to be Abt finals but we're kinda pass that so just pretend, dude I think that's it

Remus wasn't exactly one to stress out about his partners’ whereabouts. They usually found their way to him or vice versa. Regulus was particularly elusive so it was more like chasing a puff of smoke than it was trying to find your lovely boyfriend. Remus found comfort in knowing that, if he truly needed to, he could just look at the map.

The simplicity of his day was lifting his lips into a soft smile. He woke up at an acceptable time, not interrupted but James' loud singing. Shockingly. He made it to breakfast and couldn't be happier with Regulus tucked into his side grumbling away about his day. Remus spent some time in the library, picking out new books. Now, he was resting under a large tree, starting one of his new books. He couldn't put his finger on the last time he felt this relaxed on a weekend. 

Regulus was the kind to stress out about his partners’ whereabouts. He worried they'd get into detention, or get into a fight, or trouble, get lost in the forest, drown in the Black Lake, or somehow find a sinkhole.

This morning wasn't so bad. He woke up with Barty in his bed, though Regulus had told Barty to sleep with Evan if he had a nightmare. Crouch wasn't the type to follow instructions it appears. Much worse Barty had been playing with Regulus' hair the whole night. Now his curls were all tangled and pulled.

After Regulus managed to make his hair look moderately acceptable he found his way downstairs to the Great Hall. He plopped next to Remus already complaining about the whole ordeal. How unfortunate it was, Regulus would have to cut Barty's fingers off. It was the only solution. Nothing else could solve this.

Then after breakfast, he tried to calm his nerves with a walk to the Lake but then all he could think about was where you were. You could be anywhere in the entire castle. You hadn't shown up for breakfast. He hadn't seen you anywhere really. Sure it was the weekend but you usually appeared by now. 

Thus, Regulus started frantically searching the castle for you. He whipped his head around every corner, startling a young third-year blossoming couple away from each other.

Regulus asked the portraits, getting nothing but a few of them calling him mean names. One of them made fun of his shoes and he thought of taking it off the wall and throwing it. Eventually after exhausting himself and raising his anxiety to extreme levels, he decided to find Remus and ask him. Regulus knew Remus’ schedule like the back of his hand. The other hand was dedicated to your schedule, of course. Regulus knew it was a weekend but Remus still had routines. Deciphering Remus' location was easy enough. So as soon as Regulus caught a glimpse of Remus' curls under the big tree in the courtyard, he started sprinting towards Remus. 

The loud crunching of leaves is what startled Remus from his book, looking up to find Regulus huffing and puffing right next to him. Remus jumped a little, shocked Regulus was so close already. Remus closed his book and let out a huff, gently reaching out for Regulus. He slid his hand behind Regulus’ calf, staring up at the crazed pale gray eyes. 

“Hello Baby, you alright?” Remus asked. Regulus quickly shook his head, his curls flying this way and that. Remus hummed, it was often Regulus struggled with his anxiety. Regulus let out another huff, finally catching his breath. 

“Do you have the map on you?” Regulus asked, still looking over his shoulders for you. Remus nodded. 

“It's not like I’m giving it to Peter. Can't trust him with his food around stuff like that. He'll get stains on it. Don't even get me started on Sirius.” Remus said, still massaging the back of Regulus’ calf. Regulus huffed and stuck his hands out. Remus took the sign for him to pull the map out already, leaning it over to his school bag. He dug through the contents before finally finding the map and holding it up. Regulus let out a sigh and flopped onto the ground next to Remus. Remus pointed his wand at the map and pulled it open. Luckily it was just cold enough for most students to stay inside. Remus saw a straggler wandering by the other side of the courtyard but they weren't close enough to see anything of importance. 

Regulus’ eyes scanned the map, searching for your name and footprints. Remus stared blankly at the map, not sure who exactly they were looking for. Like a flash of light, Regulus' hand jumped out a gasp flying past his lips. His finger slammed into the map, a crinkling sound following it. Remus looked at it, finding your name. He frowned as Regulus pushed himself off the ground, speed walking off towards the exit of the courtyard. 

Remus quickly followed after him, swinging his bag onto his shoulder and crumpling the map to his chest. Regulus swerved through the halls, bordering sprinting. Remus followed after him, trying to keep his pace but ultimately falling behind. Regulus swung open the Library doors, slipping in and forgetting his boyfriend behind him. Remus sighed and followed suit, pulling open the Library door. 

Remus quietly followed Regulus’ warpath, awkwardly waving at the librarian on the way in. She rolled her eyes and returned to pulling books from the return. Remus skipped ahead, turning the corner to find Regulus standing next to a form that looked quite familiar. Regulus found you. Studying. Still. If his memory serves him right, you left dinner early yesterday to get started. He guessed you probably got kicked out of the Library around curfew and came back to hit the books before breakfast. 

Of course, they both noticed you were studying a lot but they hadn't realized just how bad it was. A little studying was good, a nice few hours was even better, but almost full days? 

Your head was resting on your arm, over a page of review questions. Open books were scattered around you, and your quill was limp in your hand. Remus hated the mess showing off the frantic studying you were putting yourself through. Regulus probably felt similar, glancing over his shoulder to send Remus a look. Regulus dipped down, kissing your cheek and lightly shaking your shoulder. You pulled your head up slowly. Your eyes were still squinted, glancing around the Library to find whoever woke you up. 

“Hello, amour. How long have you been studying?” Regulus asked, rubbing the back of your neck. You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms up as you yawned. Regulus hummed, trying to urge you to answer his question. You shook your head, rubbing the sleep from your face. You looked up to Regulus, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“How long have you been studying, darling?” Remus asked. You grimaced, scrunching up your nose. You sighed and looked down at the spread of books and pages on your table. 

“Um since this morning.” You answered, picking up your quill again. Regulus leaned forward, snatching the quill from your hand. You groaned, reaching for it. Regulus stuck his arm out towards Remus. Remus took the quill, hiding it behind his back. You rolled your eyes and looked back at your books. Remus joined Regulus at his side, keeping the quill away from you. 

“Have you taken any breaks today?” Regulus asked. Your eye darted at him from the side. You stayed silent, pretending like you didn’t hear him. That was plenty of an answer for Remus. Remus leaned forward, closing the book in front of you. You scoffed. 

“I need to study. I have to be ready for the tests.” You said, trying to open the book again. Remus pressed his palm into the cover of the book, making sure you couldn’t open it. You glared at Remus, deciding to pick another book. You opened a history one next to you. Regulus reached over and pulled the book from your hands. You let out a sigh and sat back. 

“Darling, you’re going to do fine. Don’t you know that? You’ve been studying for days. You need to take a break, my love.” Remus said. Regulus held onto your hands, tugging you up from the chair. You complained on the way up yet still let Regulus pull you. Remus pulled his wand from his bag, swishing it at your library table. You paused in your complaints to Regulus, watching the books and papers order themselves into a neat stack. The stack lifted itself from the table, floating to Remus’ side. 

“Let’s go take a nap, mon amour,” Regulus whispered. You furrowed your brows and rolled your eyes at him. Your hands were still trapped in his hold. Regulus dropped one of your hands. You intertwined your fingers with him as he pulled you forward towards the Library exit. Remus followed after you two, steering the stack of books with his wand. 

Regulus tucked you into bed, scooting in behind you. He cradled you in his arms, holding you tightly. Remus set your belongings down before joining you two. He saddled in on the other side of you, cupping your face and smacking a kiss on your forehead. He hoped it would travel through that thick skull of yours and calm your worried brain.  You hummed and leaned closer to him, slipping an arm around his waist. You pressed your cheek into his chest. Remus cooed, holding on to the back of your head. Regulus looked at Remus over your shoulder, giving him a proud, though small, smile. You were resting. Later they’d hide your books so you couldn’t study for the rest of the day. 

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

The royal family of the farmlands was so different from his own. Sure… Somnus had already witnessed parts of that. But to now stand in between all of them felt different. It was as if the sun shone a little warmer through the billowing veils.

There was no protocols they followed, no formal greetings, no royal rituals, no titles. They just… lived. Like an ordinary family.

And if all that was not baffling enough, Somnus suddenly found himself in the embrace of the Queen herself.

And he had no idea how to react. His whole body was tense and his arms frozen half lifted, but without any aim. Eyes darting from the queen to anyone around. What was he supposed to do? He could not just hug a Queen back!

With this Ifalna managed something that not even Aerith in her endless teasing had achieved yet. There was a faint reddish mark across his nose and cheeks when he could only utter: “Of course, it’s my duty…”

He was half relieved, half did he want to turn the offer to sit down and flee the scene. But the prince sat down and caught the thrown bun with a short fumble. Which earned Aerith a ‘why?’-look.

Were they testing him?

The Lucian prince could not but wonder exactly that, especially since Aerith’s uncle peeled from the shadows, too. All her family. They were all here. And they acted so casually. Roran seemed to really perk up at this. Their arrival had chased away the silence that had started to creep into every corner of the room.

Balancing on his knees, he took way too big bites out of the treat, till he finally reached the middle that was filled with mashed berries and his green eyes widened: “Oh! What is that called? We need to take the recipe home!”

Of course that question was for him. So Somnus tried to sit a little straighter – way too stick straight on that chair anyway.

“Bacasias.”, that was the official answer. And one that would give the little prince no fun story. Somnus threw a quick glance to Aerith, as if seeking her permission. Or maybe encouragement. She had told him how innocent and sheltered Roran was… so Somnus tried to lower his voice a little and hush it so it sounded more mysterious when he continued to talk to the boy:  “But some people prefer to call them by their secret name: Astralswindlers. Because it is said these were first made by cunning priests and priestresses, who craved something sweet during the fasting periods for the gods. So they hid the berries inside of these ‘plain breads’, so the Astrals wouldn’t see and punish them… seemed to have worked.”

Aerith responded with a non-committal hum, catching his sideglance with one of her own. That was all he needed to know. She clearly talked too much on the matter, given how he already looked like he knew all the answers.

Never mind. Somnus could have that after she tricked him with tossing the clay bowl.

She didn't know what to expect when walking into Roran's chambers. There was a small smile painted on her face when she saw him sitting up though, he didn't look like his usually happy self, but he didn't look as awfully shaken up either. An improvement was an improvement.

Though instead of a beeline towards the bed she found herself wrapped in a massive hug — one that she stretched up on her tiptoes to return with a squeeze. "If anyone asks me how I am one more time, I am going to start biting ankles." she replied, as though that were a perfectly normal sentiment.

Ifalna smiled warmly, though there was a slight tiredness in her expression. This unexpected visit wasn't to blame for that — not at all. It had simply been the longest day in her life as a mother. "Oh, look how spoiled we are." she doubted she could carry the heavy clay without giving away her own old injury, so instead she motioned for the Prince to place it down at Roran's bedside.

She passed the opened book gently to sit on Roran's lap and stood, when Somnus turned around again she opened her arms to him, gathering him into a brief hug where she fussed his back with a warm rub. "You have taken good care of us today. Thankyou, sweet Somnus." When she pulled away with a step she gestured for a chair. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

She plucked one of the baked treats — already observing how Roran leaned in interest — and placed it into his hands with a kiss on his head. There was no warning from her today about crumbs in his bed. He could mess his sheets up as much as he liked, they could be replaced.

"Come on then, don't be shy." Aerith encouraged, doing what she did best apparently. She approached the bowl and simply tossed baked treats one after the other at each of her family members — and Somnus too, his was tossed a bit higher, a silent tease.

"Because nothing about you is shy." Leif remarked. He had been further tucked back and this would be the first time he was witnessed alongside his brother. Lined up as they were it was a bit easier to tell them apart.

[writerfromshikahr]

A soft and fluffy one shot piece between Rook and Lucanis. He's a little unsure, she's madly in love and it's after the first time they have slept together. Generic Rook name. Fem Rook.

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A Promise of Pancakes - Lucanis X Rook

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Rook watched Lucanis move about her room, retrieving his scattered clothing. Their first evening together had been filled with awkward moments, quiet laughter, and a closeness she hadn’t realized she craved. They were officially together now, in every sense of the word.

Propped up on one arm, she let her gaze follow him, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You know, you don’t have to sneak out of here,” she teased gently.

Lucanis glanced back at her, holding his shirt in his hands. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice steady but carrying a flicker of hesitation. “But… I don’t want the others to talk. Not yet. I want to hold onto this... just us... for a little longer.”

Rook chuckled softly, brushing her hair out of her face. “And you think they haven’t already been talking about us?”

A faint smirk ghosted across his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know they have,” he admitted, his tone thoughtful. “But this… tonight… it’s new. It’s ours. I don’t want to ruin it by…” He trailed off, looking away as if searching for the right words.

“By being under the spotlight?” she finished for him, her voice kind.

Lucanis nodded, his lips twitching into a nervous smile. He pulled his shirt on and began buttoning it slowly. “I had an idea of what tonight was supposed to be,” he said, his voice softer now, “and I know I didn’t live up to it.”

“Lucanis,” Rook interrupted, sitting up straighter, “You were wonderful. We were wonderful.”

He didn’t look convinced. His eyes flickered with doubt as he rolled up his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re saying that to be kind.”

“No,” Rook said firmly, her voice gentle but steady. “I’m saying it because it’s true. We’ll figure it out together, it doesn’t have to be perfect or some grand romantic gesture. I lov—” She caught herself, cheeks warming, before finishing with, “I like being with you.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed slightly as he caught her slip, but he didn’t press her on it. Instead, he focused on fastening his waistcoat, smoothing the creases with unnecessary precision.

“Hey,” Rook said softly, sliding off the couch and gathering the blanket around her as she crossed the room. She stopped in front of him, resting a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry all this doubt, you know. Last night, it meant everything to me... because it was with you.”

Lucanis finally met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. He swallowed hard, his voice low when he replied, “I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You didn’t,” Rook assured him, her smile soft and sincere. “I promise, you didn’t.”

For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, the outside world forgotten. Then, with a hesitant but genuine smile, Lucanis leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you,” he replied, his breath warm against her skin.

“Always,” she whispered in return.

He stepped back, his expression a mix of shyness and resolve. “I’ll see you at breakfast?"

“Do I get pancakes?” Rook asked, her lips curling into a playful grin.

Lucanis paused, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “That depends... do I get another kiss before I leave?”

“And here I thought I was the easily bribed one,” she teased, moving closer. He leaned slightly forward to meet her halfway. The kiss started soft, tentative even, but warmth quickly blossomed between them. That unmistakable passion of his, the kind she had only just begun to discover a few hours earlier, wrapped around them, pulling her deeper into the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against hers, “You’ll get your pancakes, but only because you asked so nicely.”

She looked up at him with a playful glint in her eye. “It’s a date?”

“It’s a date,” he echoed softly, the words carrying more weight than the moment might have warranted.

He stepped back reluctantly, his gaze lingering on her for one last moment before he turned toward the door. As he slipped out, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. Rook flopped back onto the couch with a smile of her own.

Pancakes and Lucanis. Maker, she could get used to this.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

"He's coming!" your coworker whispers to you, bouncing for a moment before regaining her composure as he walked through the door. He approaches the counter, glancing at her before staring at you. He's carrying a bouquet of roses and a red box wrapped with a white bow.

"You're here for her, right?" she asks, pointing at you. He nods, and she turns, giving you two thumbs up as she walks past you, moving to the other side of the coffee bar. You pause, unsure, but eventually make your way to the register.

"Your usual?" you ask, but he shakes his head.

"Not today." He hands out the flowers and box. "For you."

"I..." You don't know what to say, so you just take the gifts, giving an awkward smile. "Thank you...?"

He nods towards the box.

"Open it."

You try not to show how nervous you are, putting down the roses on the counter. You peel the white ribbon from the box, taking off the red lid.

"Holy fuck?" you whisper, putting down the lid and pulling out a string of pearls. "What is this?"

"They're pearls."

"Yeah, I can see that, but why are you giving them to me?"

"Do you not like them?"

"No, I do like pearls, but–" You put the pearls back in the box, staring up at him. "Why are you giving them to me?"

"So you can wear them."

You roll your eyes.

"What? No, really? I thought I was supposed to eat them."

He smiles.

"You're funny. I like that."

You sigh, putting the lid back on the box, setting it down on the counter.

"Look, you've been really nice, but I don't think this is appropriate."

He glares.

"Why?"

"Well," you start, fiddling with your fingers, "I don't think your girlfriend would like you giving me all these things."

"I don't have a girlfriend." You blink.

"Well, I don't think your boyfriend would—"

He laughs, deep and gruff. It makes your stomach flip in the best way.

"I'm not into men."

"Then... well, why would you—"

"Look," he starts, leaning against the counter. "I want you to wear those pearls. I want you to wear the perfume I got you too. I want you to wear them to dinner with me."

Your cheeks burn. You swallow hard.

"W-Why do you want to have dinner with me?"

"You'll see." He stands up, reaching his hand out. "May I see your phone?"

You hesitate, but reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and handing it to him. He takes it gently—holy fuck his hands are big—and taps at the screen for a little while. He hands the phone back to you, smirking at you. You read the screen, seeing his phone number and contact name: Future Husband 💕.

You sputter, wondering if your face could burn any hotter as you look up at him.

"Send me your address: I'll pick you up on Friday at seven."

Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving the coffee shop. Your coworker squeals behind you.

"Oh my god, girl! I am totally living vicariously through you."

You huff, changing his phone contact to something more sensible.

Buff Guy

[pinkhearteye]

hello! I'm not sure if you take requests, but could you do a story about a yandere!Sugar Mommy and a Sugar Baby reader?

thank you!!!

Of course! Always taking requests!!

Sugar Mommy x Sugar!baby reader The café hummed with quiet chatter, the smell of roasted coffee beans mingling with the faint sweetness of pastries. You sat by the window, stirring your latte absentmindedly, pretending not to notice the sharp eyes that had been following you for weeks. She was here again, just like every time you visited this place, in her usual corner with a cup of tea she barely touched.

Her name was Selene, though you weren’t supposed to know that. She introduced herself as "a friend of fortune," casually slipping her card into your bag one day when you weren’t paying attention. You found it later, a sleek, expensive-looking thing with her number embossed in gold.

You hadn’t planned to call her. But rent was due, and the job market wasn’t kind. That’s how it started: a single phone call that led to a series of quiet dinners, expensive gifts, and the kind of attention that felt like being trapped under a spotlight.

“Sugar mommy” wasn’t a term you’d ever thought you’d apply to your life, but Selene wore the role like a second skin. She’d drape designer coats over your shoulders, her fingers lingering just a moment too long, and smile in that way that made you feel both special and suffocated.

Today was no different. She approached your table with a grace that drew every eye in the room, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she purred, sliding into the seat across from you. Her gaze pinned you down, a mixture of adoration and something darker that made your stomach twist. “I’ve missed you.”

You forced a smile. “Hi, Selene. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Oh, I know,” she said lightly, her red-painted nails tracing the rim of her teacup. “But I couldn’t resist. You’ve been... preoccupied lately. I was worried you’d forgotten about me.”

The implication hung heavy in the air. You hadn’t forgotten, how could you? She was everywhere. The flowers that arrived at your doorstep, the texts that piled up when you didn’t respond fast enough, the way she always seemed to know exactly where you were.

“I’ve just been busy,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “Work and all.”

Selene tilted her head, her smile never wavering. “You don’t need to worry about work, darling. I told you, I can take care of everything. All you need to do is let me.”

Her hand reached across the table, warm and soft as it settled over yours. You wanted to pull away, but her grip tightened, a gentle vice. Her deep, unrelenting eyes bore into yours.

“You don’t have to struggle,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just stay with me.”

Your heart raced, a mix of fear and something you didn’t want to name. She was offering you the world, but it felt like a cage.

“Selene, I—”

“Shh,” she said, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t say anything. Just think about it. About us.”

She leaned closer, her lips curving into a smile that made your pulse quicken for all the wrong reasons. “You’ll see, sweetheart. You’re mine, whether you realize it yet or not.”

The weight of Selene’s words clung to you like a second skin. You managed a shaky nod, murmuring something that resembled agreement, though your mind screamed for an escape. Selene seemed satisfied, her smile softening into something almost tender as she released your hand.

“Good,” she said, standing with that same effortless grace that seemed to command the room. She adjusted her coat, the rich fabric glinting faintly in the café’s warm light. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Don’t make me wait too long.”

She left without another word, leaving behind the faint trace of her perfume—rich, intoxicating, and suffocating all at once. You exhaled, realizing you’d been holding your breath.

This wasn’t normal. None of this was.

You gathered your things, your hands trembling as you stuffed your notebook into your bag. You needed to leave. To think. To figure out how you’d let things spiral so far out of control.

The walk back to your apartment felt longer than usual. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, every shadow and passing glance setting your nerves on edge. You checked over your shoulder more times than you could count, but the streets were empty, save for the occasional passerby.

Finally, you reached your door, fumbling with your keys as you hurried inside. The familiar scent of your tiny apartment did little to calm your nerves. You locked the door behind you, sliding the chain into place for good measure. Safe. For now.

You collapsed onto the couch, your head in your hands. What were you supposed to do? Selene wasn’t just persistent—she was everywhere. Her gifts, her texts, her unspoken promises to make your life easier. And the way she looked at you... it was like you were the only thing that mattered to her.

Your phone buzzed, and you flinched, the sound slicing through the silence like a knife. You pulled it from your pocket, dread pooling in your stomach as Selene’s name flashed across the screen.

Selene: I hope you made it home safely, sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything. Remember, I’m always here for you. 💋

You stared at the message, the casual warmth of her words doing little to mask the underlying edge. She always knew. Somehow, she always knew.

As if on cue, a soft knock echoed from your door. You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. No one ever came to visit, and you hadn’t ordered anything.

Another knock, firmer this time. “Sweetheart,” a familiar voice cooed, muffled by the door. “It’s me.”

Your blood turned to ice. She couldn’t be here. Not already.

“I noticed you seemed a bit shaken earlier,” Selene continued, her tone light but dripping with something you couldn’t quite place. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone tonight. Let me in, won’t you?”

You stepped back, your breath coming in shallow gasps. How had she found you so quickly? You hadn’t given her your address—had you?

The knocks turned to gentle taps, almost playful. “Don’t make me wait, sweetheart,” Selene sang softly. “You know I don’t like being ignored.”

Your mind raced, the walls of your apartment suddenly feeling far too small. You couldn’t let her in, but you couldn’t hide forever, either.

Then her voice dropped, low and velvet. “You belong to me, remember? No matter where you go, I’ll always find you.”

[youngprofesser]

Was thinking about this today so ofc here's a lil oneshot

In a twist of fate that Depa is mostly sure that Mace had nothing to do with, he travels with her and her battalion to their next assignment. Essentially "hitching a ride" to get himself to the mid rim before using his own fighter to return to his own legion further beyond.

It's not exactly a leisure trip, but they're still able to pull a few hours of meditation together while in hyperspace, the first time since the war started. Meditation with another Jedi is always more grounding than alone. Meditating with Mace, whose presence Depa knows as well as she knows her own name, is uniquely restful.

By the time the two hour warning rings through the wall speakers, signaling that command staff must soon return to the bridge, she's feeling the best she has in months.

Depa begins a slow series of stretches before she opens her eyes, wherein the blinking light of her comm immediately catches her attention. She reads the message and grumbles to herself. “What a nuisance.”

Mace, who has been easing himself out of his own meditation, floats an inquiry in the force.

“There was a bounty put out on me some time ago, and the hunter that took it is… persistent.” She shares. “I had hoped that the brief leave period would dissuade him, but it seems that it has not.”

Seeing the way that Mace’s brow immediately furrows back into the deep creases that their meditation had momentarily smoothed, Depa almost regrets bringing it up.

“I'll take care of it once I have the time.” She assures him.

“If it's already been “some time”, it's clear that you don't have the time.” He returns heavily, and Depa can't argue with that.

He continues. “I have a half day before I must carry on. I'll dispatch this hunter.”

This is not what Depa had meant to have happen when she brought it up, but Mace's tone makes it clear that he’s not asking. She pretends to mull it over anyway.

“I suppose it's best that way.” She concludes after a suitably long pause. “The men will certainly be pleased, this game of cat and mouse has grated on their nerves.”

Mace says nothing, but in the force he has the distinct feeling that hearing about it is grating on his nerves. With such a reaction, Depa can't help but tease him a bit more.

“I suppose I shouldn't spoil your fun either.”

That makes Mace open his eyes, frown lines deepening in his forehead and around his mouth. She knows that her poke is not too far, he’s more relaxed than usual from their meditation session. Still, he doesn't appreciate being ribbed about his battle-enjoying tendencies.

“You should know better than to encourage me for things like this.”

The softness of his tone takes Depa by surprise. Perhaps it's because this is the first time in months that they have spoken outside of professional proceedings. Or maybe it's just the contrast with the supposed reprimand in the words. Either way, it fills her heart with warmth. Her old Master, always so gentle with her.

Depa levers herself to her feet, pressing an affectionate hand to the top of his head as she passes behind where he sits on the floor. “Even the most venerable old masters must find amusement in something.”

“And that would make you, who finds amusement in everything, the most venerable of all.” Mace concludes in that deadpan sarcasm of his, beginning his own series of stretches as she reaches the door.

Depa easily lets out the chuckle that bubbles up in her chest. “Indeed.”

It's canon that Mace Windu would call especially rotten bounty hunters "Sithspawn" and I am going to use this in every fic forever. (Star Wars: Shadow of the Sith | Adam Christopher)

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Dating but not really (Tim Drake x Reader)

Prompt: Tim and you are totally dating. His brothers are just being skeptics... right? (2.3k words~)

 The cool swish of the doors opening alerts Tim of a presence, Jason’s heavy footfalls giving him away before his voice.

“Hey Tim you joining me on patrol tonight?” 

Jason’s voice echos across the Batcave, as he crosses the expanse of corridor to reach Tim sitting at the Batcomputer preoccupied with a surveillance task.

“Can’t tonight, I’ve got a date. Dick’s gonna join you instead” he replies without looking away from the screen.

Jason raises an eyebrow at that. He crosses his arms as he comes to stand beside Tim, assessing him with a skeptical look.

“A date? Well who’s the lucky girl?”

“It’s a date with (Name)” he responds, still distracted by his task.

Jason nods, seemingly impressed “Nicely done, bout time you finally asked her out. Your moony glances at her across the room was getting somewhat nauseating”

Tim nods at that, only half paying attention at his brother’s words. 

A beat passes before he whips his head towards Jason, “Wait what? This isn’t a first date”.

“No? Still didn’t muster the courage to ask her out? Well don’t worry little guy, I’m sure eventually one of your ‘hangouts’ is gonna turn into a date”

Jason knew (Name) was one of Tim’s closest friends, he also knew that Tim had a crush on her since forever, but the boy seemed to get far too nervous and tongue tied to actually act on his feelings.

Tim sputters at Jason’s words, “What-no that’s not what I meant. We’ve been dating for two months now”

Jason balks at his words “What? Really? No way”, his brow furrows at the thought.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim asks, seeming to take offence at Jason’s reaction to his revelation.

“Well, I guess I couldn’t tell things had changed between the two of you. I mean she comes around a lot, I didn’t really notice anything different in your interactions” he shrugs.

Before Tim can answer, a beep draws their attention. They turn to face the entrance of the Batcave as it opens, Dick walks in.

“Hey Dick, did you know that Tim and (Name) were dating”, Jason’s voice echos across the cave as the third brother approaches the duo.

A bright almost congratulatory smile appears on Dick’s face, “Really now? Nicely done Tim”

His words accompanied by a fatherly pat on Tim’s back, seeming quiet chuffed by the news.

“Yeah, They’ve been dating for the past 2 months” Jason adds, his tone still conveying a sense of disbelief which causes Tim to give him a look.

“Oh” 

Though Dick was surprised, he was much better at masking his expression than Jason, the only tell being the slight widening of his eyes which he quickly schooled into one of his bright smiles.

“That’s nice” he quickly added before there was too much of a pause. Tim only huffs in response,

“Why is that seemingly so hard to believe?”

Dick was trying to think of a delicate and diplomatic way to frame his answer, but Jason’s bluntness beat him to it,

“I don’t know, guess I’ve never see you both be all gooey and in love”, now that Jason thinks for a beat, he thinks it’s probably for the best, he shudders at the thought of being subjected to two lovebirds in his own home. A shiver passes over his body. 

“Are you trying to say I’m not a romantic boyfriend?” 

“Well that’s not-“

“Where’re you taking her for your date today?” Jason butts in before Dick can placate Tim’s simmering nerves.

“We’re going to the library.” Jason raises an eyebrow at that, which causes Tim to add with  a rather exasperated huff “It’s a study date”

“And pray tell how is that any different from what you’d do before you started dating?”

“Come on Jason, I’m sure Tim and (Name) enjoy old haunts but also have new spots they like to explore from time to time” Dick came in on Tim’s defence with an assured smile, which slowly dropped into a surprised ‘o’ when he took in Tim’s sheepish expression.

“Well, I mean we’ve not really changed much of our routine since dating” Tim muttered, feeling less confident with each word. Were they supposed to? The two of them had a comfortable routine, and (Name) seemed happy with the arrangement. But was he supposed to be the one suggesting new ideas? Was she waiting for him to say something?

“Tim” Jason tuts, with a tone of disappointment mixed with affection that an elder brother would admonish their younger with, “Maybe you should put some more effort into this, I mean you if you really like her you have to show her that. If you just continue as you did as friends how’s she ever gonna know?”

Dick nodded, though he offered a more sympathetic smile. 

Tim wasn’t all too surprised by Dick’s stance on the matter, he was known to be a hopeless romantic among the brothers, sometimes going overboard with his grand displays of affection and high production movie-esque date ideas. Now Jason on the other hand wasn’t all that overt about his affections, though he tried to come off as tough and unassuming Tim had happened to stumble across his somewhat poorly hidden stash of Jane Austen novels in his room once before. 

But if even Jason feels like there’s more Tim can do for his budding relationship, maybe he really is missing the mark. Not for any lack of care on his part, but perhaps a result of an ignore is bliss, what with this being Tim’s first serious relationship.  

He looks back at them somewhat apprehensive, “So what do you think I should do?”

The two brothers glanced at each other, twin smirks adorning their face before they turn back to him

“Don’t worry little brother we’ve got you”.

———————————————————-

You found yourself a nice shade speckled spot on a park bench, enjoying the feel of cool breeze on your skin. You decided to enjoy the pleasant weather while you waited for Tim, who texted you he’d be running late. 

Your back was against the wood, knees pulled up, as you looked up at the sky, warm sunlight  peeking through the thick leafy overgrowth of tall trees.You were almost dozing off to the delicate sound of bird song till you felt a large shadow block out the light. Squinting an eye open to examine the sudden presence, you end up having to blink a couple times to register what you were looking at.

Tim standing in front of you. Expected.

But Tim holding a giant bouquet of flowers which almost overpowered his frame? Unexpected.

“Tim?” The question in your tone was not directed at Tim himself but rather at his appearance.

He was wearing a blazer with a pressed white shirt, which was odd given he’d usually show up in shorts and a T-shirt for your library dates. You’re quite certain he’s wearing a different cologne too. And is his hair slicked back with hair gel? Your examination of his get-up only adding to his nerves. 

Tim felt stiff and hot in the blazer, ‘Smart Casual’, those were the words Dick used to describe his look.

’A sharp look says you’re putting in the effort and care about how you show up for your date’ Dick nodded sagely as he fixed Tim’s sleeve cuffs. 

Jason observed the interaction with a light frown, he stepped up when Dick moved aside and loosened Tim’s collar, tilting one of the edges so they were no longer symmetrical.

Noticing Tim’s confused glance he added “Well you don’t want to look like a Toy Solider either, you need some personality, few tweaks and you’ll be artfully scruffy’.

So here he stood, a questionable blend between smart casual and artfully scruffy, not feeling all too much like himself. 

“Hey. Uh- these are for you” He says as he shoves the bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers towards you.

A short laugh of disbelief escapes you, the gesture is sweet but fairly out of the blue.

“Thank you. They’re wonderful… is there any particular reason for this?” you ask as you accept the flowers.

Tim feels his face flush, reason? No there wasn’t any particular reason, unless of course you count his brothers giving him a rom-com interlude date makeover as one.

“Well I just- just thought they’d make you smile” the words tumble out of him, hesitant and shy.

He always wants to make you smile, he hopes you know that. But perhaps his brothers have been right, maybe he’s been too subtle about his feelings. Maybe you don’t know how your smiles cause blood to rush into his cheeks, how his heart flips when he’s the reason behind them.

“Also I was wondering if you’d like to go out for dinner later today?”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Your place or mine?”

“How about a restaurant this time?”

He’d take her somewhere nice, somewhere that takes reservations. That’s some indicator of fancy right? 

And he’d pay, cause ‘that would be the chivalrous thing to do’, Dick’s voice echos in his ears.

Unless of course she wants to split the bill, in which case he ought to ‘respect her wishes and give her space’. Right, Jason’s words also ring true. Even if they happen to be pulling him towards two different directions.

Tim’s inner turmoil paints an expression of conflict on his face. You’re finding his behaviour quite odd, almost as if he’s acting out a role. Your eyes narrow as you consider him, causing the poor boy to stiffen further.

“Tim, do you think I’m angry at you?”

He blinks “What? No- no of course not” he replies with a strained laugh, his eyes widen slightly as he reconsiders your words 

“Unless you are?” Was that supposed to be a trick question? God he’s not good at this, maybe he shouldn’t have skipped that Tarot card reading by the self declared witch on Tiktok  last night, is this karma?

A short laugh escapes you, not unkindly and not direct at Tim, but rather at the situation at hand. 

“Well the flowers, the blazer and dinner date all together come off as an apology attempt. It’s not all very… you” (Name) shrugs.

Tim’s shoulders drop, “Yeah I guess not” A dry chuckle escapes him as he runs a hand through his slicked back hair. Part of him is relieved you’ve seen through him, but worry still gnaws at him.ffff

You pat the space on the bench beside you, he offers a weak smile before sitting beside you.

A sigh escapes him, his gaze remains firm on the gravel below, “(Name), you know I care about you right?”

You blink, the question seemingly out of the blue, though the doubt swimming in his eyes conveys that this is something he’s been mulling over.

“Of course I do Tim” 

“No- like I really care about you. More than friends” he pauses, frustrated at his inability to convey what he’s really thinking “This- what we have, it’s not just some summer fling to me. I really cherish it and I’m-”

He flinches as he feels your hand over his, he hesitantly meets your eyes, feeling his pulse steady at your gentle gaze.

“Tim I get it. I feel the same way…. what’s this really about?” 

He had to bite back a laugh, of course you’d catch on to his distress even when he struggles to find the words to voice it. 

“I don’t know if I’m doing enough. If this all just feels too casual- cause it’s not to me. It’s just when I do try to express it through a grand gesture it feels too artificial and forced… you saw right through me’

“Oh Tim, that’s what this is about?” A sigh of relief escapes you at his confession, you shake your head at him with an exasperated smile “For the record, I like what we have… it never felt like a fling, why would you think that?”

“Well- the lines between friendship and romance feel so blurry, I don’t know if I’m doing it right… I mean when was the last time I got you a bouquet of flowers” he asks, agitation evident in his tone. 

“Actually this is the first time you did”, Tim winces at your words but you squeeze his hand before he can spiral into a worse case scenario

“You don’t get me bouquets of flowers. You get me pretty daisies you find on your walk which remind you of me”

You fingers flick at his uneven shirt collar “And you don’t wear white shirts with blazers, you wear band tees and mismatched socks”

This draws an embarrassed laugh out of him “Right, not exactly a trend setter am I?”

His eyes flit to your warm smile, it comforts his nerves, it always does.

“Maybe not, but it’s you. And I like that. I mean, I like what we have… don’t you?”

God yes. Of course he does, it all seems to come so naturally to him. It’s so easy. And that’s what worries him, that maybe he’s taking it all for granted. Maybe he’s not able to show you how much you really mean to him. 

He gives a stiff nod “Of course I do. I just… I don’t know if it’s enough. If this is what it’s supposed to be or if I’m missing somethin-“

“Tim” you interrupt what would turn into a worry filled ramble by placing a hand over his, “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks it should look like, we get to define that for ourselves. Trust me, you’re more that enough. And you make me very happy”.

You peck his cheek so as to reemphasise your point, causing a light flush to adorn his cheeks.

“Alright. I’m glad…” That’s all he can muster right now. 

His mind’s a jumbled mess, thoughts flit around like agitated butterflies, but they’re soft, warm thoughts so he doesn’t entirely mind. One day he’s going to figure out how to tell you just how much he feels for you.

All in good time, he might ask his brothers again, only if he's really desparate. But for now you seem happy to figure things out as you go, and he’s all too happy to oblige.

[calcifermovesthecastle]

Sharing a Moment

Tooth Rotting Sanji Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Whole Cake Island spoilers if you squint.

2460 ish words

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of past trauma, mentions of burns, mentions of Slavery.

This is actually an excerpt from my self insert one piece google doc, but I turned it into a reader insert. Character is afab, uses she/her pronouns, and is described with breasts. I do not shy away from "controversial" topics and do not censor any of my work. this does not mean that I condone or agree with the things that I write about.

This is what I do instead of therapy lmao.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharp, uneven breaths pierce through the silence that surrounds you on the island. Your transponder snail sleeps peacefully on the ground, your hands trembling too violently to pick it up. 

Your head swims, and each new breath you take is shorter and sharper than the last. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, scrambling backwards on the forest floor. 

"I'm gonna find you, bitch!" The words aren't real, but they echo in your head nonetheless. You press your back up against the large tree you're under, clawing at the collar of your shirt around your neck. The night seems to close further in on you. 

You weren't lost. Not at first. You started out on the beach, picking through shrubs and bushes to resupply Chopper with some fresh herbs and plants. The rest of the crew's voices had faded away, dispersing in their own searches, leaving you alone in yours. The deeper you got into the woods, the darker it got, and the more anxious you felt. The more your mind began to race. 

Suddenly, you weren't a straw hat anymore. Suddenly, just like that, the shackles tightened around your neck and wrists, and your master calls after you, screaming all of the horrible things he'd do to you once you were found. 

Your transponder snail continues to snooze on the ground in front of you, a mocking reminder that you can call for help at any time, if you could just get out of your own head. 

"When I find you, I'm gonna gut you like an animal! You'll fucking wish you were dead when I'm done with you!" 

Oh, how you wish you would breathe quieter. Your head throbs and your vision swims, the lack of air and the blood pounding in your ears making you lightheaded. At this point, passing out seems like a blessing. 

"Do you want your hands set on fire again?! Or would you rather I stick them in boiling oil?" 

"No!" You manage to gasp out. You claw more at your shirt collar, ripping the fabric apart down past your breasts. A heavy, loud sob bursts past your lips, and all you can hear is your own rapid heart beat. 

Then, clear as a bell, you hear someone say your name. 

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving as you look around for the source, and stare up at Sanji, who's rounded the tree and is staring at you with eyes just as wide. Your voice gets caught in your throat, but your body almost buckles in relief. 

You cant seem to calm yourself down, though, and your throat constricts again, the ghost of that awful collar tightening around you. You pull your torn shirt even further away from you, your hands trembling so violently you have to grasp at it multiple times. 

Sanji crouches in front of you, shrugging his blazer off, not breaking eye contact once. 

"Sweetheart, would you like to go back to the ship?" 

You nod, bawling loudly. Sanji nods, never breaking his eye contact with you. He looks at you as if you'll run from him at any second.

"Okay, I'll take you home. I need you to calm down first, okay?" 

"I cant-" You choke out, taking another short, sharp breath in.

"Okay, I'll help you." 

Ever so gently, Sanji reaches out and pulls you close, resting his chin on top of your head. He takes your hands in his and squeezes, taking slow, steady breaths that you're supposed to mirror. It takes a few tries, but finally, your breathing returns to normal and your head stops swimming. Though you're still shaking, you're back to reality, and you know that you're okay. 

"Are you ready?" 

You had no idea Sanji's voice could sound so tender. Your lower lip trembles as you nod, and he gently pulls you to your feet, draping his blazer over your shoulders. 

When he pulls his hands away, you reach out to him, your voice breaking. 

"Don't go away." 

That's funny, you meant to say "Don't let go." Sanji's eyes widen briefly, but they soften just as quick, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders as soon as he's picked up your transponder snail and put it in the blazers pocket.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sweetheart," He says quietly. "I've got you." 

Slowly, he guides you through the woods back to the Sunny. You lean heavy on him, gripping the fabric of his blazer in your hands as tightly as you can to feel grounded. 

"Please don't tell the others," you whisper. Your eyes swim with more tears as shame blooms through your whole body. Sanji squeezes you firmly. 

"I wont. If they ask, I'll just say you got lost and called me to come get you." 

"Thank you," You rest your head against the side of his chest, listening to his heart beat. 

Another wave of relief floods your body when you finally land eyes on the Sunny. Sanji helps you up the first few rungs of the ladder, then starts climbing up after you. Once on board, you follow him to the kitchen, sitting at the table. 

He doesn't ask why, doesn't prod more information out of you, he just sets a warm mug of tea in front of you, ruffles your hair, and gets started on dinner. 

The warm lighting in the kitchen helps to soothe your frayed nerves, so you sip on the tea, mindfully taking slow, deep breaths. Sanji's company proves to be very grounding as well, so while he cooks, you slip your burn gloves off and stare at your hands.

Chopper has done a phenomenal job repairing some of the scarring. He's also helped you gain a ton of function back. But the flesh is still mangled badly, and the nerve damage is majorly irreparable. You can grasp and hold things, but your fine motor skills are gone. There's no getting that back. You open and close your fingers, grateful for the movement you have gained back. 

But the damage is still there. The pain of it is seared into the back of your mind forever. you frown, lost in thought. 

"Your tea is getting cold, d'you want me to heat it back up for you?" 

You jump, looking at Sanji with wide eyes. His eyes go from your face to your hands, and you can see his brow furrow behind his hair. He puffs on his cigarette and sits down next to you, reaching out and grasping them before you can pull away. 

Since they've been burned, nobody has touched your bare hands. You've always kept the gloves or bandages on, for fear that it would hurt too much otherwise, or trigger a bad reaction in you. 

But Sanji's hands don't do either. They feel cool, and the pressure is comforting. You stare wide eyed down at where your hands are, your heart stuttering in my chest. 

"You have beautiful hands," He says quietly. Your eyes fly to his face, but he doesn't look at you, he just studies your hands, turning them over in his own. 

"Don't lie," You whisper. It's barely audible, but he shakes his head. 

"I'm not lying. They really are beautiful." He says it with such conviction it makes your heart clench. 

"Look at you, you're fucking worthless, you pig bitch. You can't even serve me right with those fucked up hands of yours. Clean this fucking mess up and get the fuck out of my room so I dont have to look at how disgusting your hands look." 

"The scars on them don't mar the way they look," He continues. "They're quite striking." 

He sits and admires them for a few more minutes, and you stare at him, your eyes as wide as dinner plates, your face flushed red. 

You can feel butterflies in your stomach as he runs his thumb along one of the longer scars, humming. When he looks up at up at up at you, he smiles. 

"I guess I just never noticed." 

"Nobody," You whisper, for fear that your voice may break again. "Has ever said anything so kind about my hands." 

Sanji tilts his head, puffing on his cigarette. When he speaks again, his tone is tender. 

"Sweetheart, you should stop worrying so much. Nobody is ever going to hurt us again. Not like this." 

He squeezes your hands, ruffles your hair again, and gets up to check on dinner. 

Us?

Wait. Us?

"Sanji, what do you-" 

"Did you want me to reheat your tea?" He asks, as if he didn't hear you. You blink, glancing down at your cup. 

"Uh, sure. That would be really nice." 

Humming, he reheats your tea for you, then pulls some vegetables out. You put your gloves back on and pull his blazer tighter around your body. 

"Sanji?" 

"Hm? What is it?" 

"Could I have a cigarette?" 

He turns his head towards you, frowning. He sees how tense you are, how shaky your breath still is, and closes his eyes. 

"Just this once. These things are bad for you, you know." 

"I know," You smile slightly. He jerks his chin up once. 

"They're in the left pocket in my jacket. Just one, ya hear?" 

You heed his words, thanking him when he lights it for you. The first few puffs you take are followed by very harsh, loud coughs, but the next few burn less in your throat and lungs. It's a nice distraction. 

The rest of the crew still isn't back by the time you finish the cigarette, but you're not ready to be by yourself just yet, so you stay in the kitchen with Sanji. You finish your tea, and eat the food he puts in front of you, and when they're still not back after you've finished eating, you rest your chin in your hands and watch as Sanji continues to work in the warm yellow glow. By the time Luffy bursts in demanding dinner, you've fallen asleep at the table. 

"Hm? What's she doing here?" He asks, prodding at you gently. Sanji smacks his hand away, shooing him out of the room. 

"She got lost and called me to find her on the transponder snail. You get out and go sit in the lounge with everyone else for your dinner. She already ate." 

Luffy looks at you, frowning slightly, but concedes to letting you sleep for now. He bounds out of the room, yelling for everyone to go to the lounge so they can eat. 

You jerk awake sometime later, the shadow of a nightmare fading from your mind, leaving in its wake a sense of uneasiness and the deep seated need to not be alone. 

There is no light coming from the porthole, but the swaying of the ship tells you that we're back to sea. You stand up, steadying yourself with the table, and exit the kitchen. 

You hold Sanji's jacket tightly around you, climbing the ladder up to the crows nest. The smell of smoke tells you that that's where you'll find Sanji. 

Sure enough, he's standing with elbows resting on the ledge of the crow's nest as he stares out at open water, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray perched next to him. You walk straight over to him and wrap your arms around him from behind. 

He doesn't say anything, but turns slightly so he can wrap one of his arms around you. You press your ear against his chest, searching for his heartbeat. When you find it, you close your eyes and focus on it. 

For a while, the only noise is your breathing, his heartbeat, and the sounds the ocean makes. You're grateful for how expertly Sanji seems to handle you when you're at this low point, how he seems to know exactly what you need. How instead of fawning over you, he stays collected and steady and oh so kind and tender. You tighten your hold on him, closing your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," You murmur.

"What for?" He responds, just as quiet. You breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes. 

"Being such a fucking mess." Your voice breaks, and a quiet whimper escapes your throat for what feels like the umpteenth time tonight. "Sanji, everything came flooding back. I'm not strong enough to pretend I'm okay, and I don't know how I'm going to hide it from everyone. I don't want to be a mess. I don't want my past to control me but it does. Just when I think I've got a good handle on it, something triggers it, and I don't know what to do to stop myself from shutting down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

His hand reaches up to stroke your hair as you cry, and after a while he pulls away from you, squeezing an arm in each hand and crouching to your eye level. 

"Sweetheart, you cant change what happened to you. And it's still so recent for you that of course you're going to have days where it's harder for you to feel normal. You're going to have days where it feels like it's all a dream, and you're still stuck in those shackles. I saw you, that first day. Remember?" 

You nod, weeping openly. 

"You may not think so, but you are doing so much better than you were. He cant hurt you anymore. Say it." 

"H-he can't hurt me anymore." 

"Again." 

"H-he can't hurt me anymore." 

"That's right. He can't. But it's going to take time, right? You can know that there is nothing he can do to get to you. You can know that you're free. But it's going to take time for you to believe it. That's part of healing. So don't be sorry for your bad days. We understand, more than you could ever know."

Something distant clouds Sanji's eye, but it's gone before it takes form. Weakly, you reach your arms out to him, asking for a hug. He pulls you close, careful not to hold you too tight. 

"He can't hurt me anymore," You blubber. You feel him nod. 

"That's right." 

"I'm safe." 

"That's right." 

"I'm free." 

"You're free, love." Sanji tightens his grip on you for a moment, exhaling. "Would you like to lie down in bed?"

"Mhmm" You sniff. Truthfully, you'd rather stay awake with him as long as possible, but your body is so tired that you know there's no fighting the sleep that's coming. "But please don't leave me all alone up here." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Sanji says. A sharp wind blows by, causing both of you to tense. You shrug his jacket off, holding it out to him. 

"Since I'll be under the covers," You say hoarsely, "I suppose you could have your jacket back." 

He laughs, taking it and putting it back on. "I'm honored."

You smile back, getting cozy in bed. Sanji watches you, turning back around when your head finally hits the pillow. It's not long until you're out, your soft snores falling on his ears while he watches the night sky.

[cha-melodius]

#16, Alex/Henry?

(Also requested by @firenati0n. I feel like there were two obvious options for this one: post-leaks in canon, or post-rescue mission of some kind. You can probably guess which one I chose. 😂 read all the hug ficlets)

Firstprince, 16: The “it’s okay, I’m here” hug.

Add’l note: This is more or less a tiny sequel to So Close to Something Better Left Unknown. You don’t have to have read the fic to read this ficlet, but it does contain minor spoilers for the very end of said fic.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

When Henry gave him the watch, it was half a joke and half because Henry’s in love with him and his hopeless heart latched onto the slim chance to keep an eye on him, at least from a distance. He’d expected Alex to leave it behind, or disable the tracker, or at the very least not wear it, but as far as he can tell, Alex had done none of those things. The tracker bops around the globe, giving Henry far too much information on CIA missions merely through its location. Not that Henry would ever pass on that information to his own agency, or anyone else for that matter.

That Alex trusted him not to, to keep his secrets… Well, it means a lot.

He assumed that at some point his own work would bring him within striking distance of Alex again, and he’d make use of the tracker to find him and… oh, hell, he doesn’t know. Say hello? It sounds absurd for a spy, but it’s pretty much all he could hope for. But before that happens, the tracker gets stuck for a week in a remote part of Guatemala, and Henry starts to get worried. Maybe Alex just lost the watch, or abandoned it for some reason. That’s the most reasonable explanation. Even so, Henry quietly requests recent satellite images of that area and zooms all the way in on the watch’s coordinates.

It’s a high-security compound of some sort. Not good.

He tries not to let his imagination run wild. The tracker he’d left in the watch is extremely high resolution, and he watches it occasionally move around the compound, as if someone was wearing it, though mostly it stays in one place. Alex could have traded it or gifted it as part of an operation; it was a valuable watch, after all. Still, it nags at Henry. He’s not going to be able to rest until he finds out what actually happened. The most straightforward way would be simply asking, but he has no way of contacting Alex except a burner phone he has no reason to believe Alex would be monitoring.

He sends a message anyway, but after a few days without a response, he can’t take it anymore.

It’s completely mad, he knows it is, but he makes up an excuse about tracking down a lead on a long-cold operation and books a ticket to Guatemala City. He covertly watches the outside of the compound for three days, keeping track of the men who come and go, and sends photos of them to Bea with a request to run facial recognition and not ask any questions. (She does, of course, but she doesn’t push, even when they come back with the names of some very bad people.)

Finally, once the compound’s primary resident leaves and takes with him what should be the majority of his armed muscle, Henry makes his move. The watch is still inside, and Henry follows the tracker’s signal down into the basement of an outbuilding, taking out a handful of guards with tranquilizers as he goes. The building is dark and dank, and the series of locked metal doors he finds do nothing to help the cold, hard knot that’s settled into his stomach. His hands don’t shake as he picks the lock on the one the watch is resting behind, but that careful composure slips when the door finally swings open to reveal a miserable lump curled on a thin mattress, a head of matted curls just visible through the murky darkness.

Alex flinches away when Henry first reaches out for him, scrambling into the corner, but then his eyes land on Henry and his mouth drops open. He blinks rapidly, scrubs frantically at his eyes, and blinks again.

“Henry?” he croaks in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you, love,” Henry tells him, holding his hands out in front of him as he slowly moves closer. “I’ve come to get you.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then Alex surges toward him. Henry almost shies away himself, unsure of what Alex means to do, but then Alex is grabbing him and wrapping him up in a hug so tight it squeezes the air out of Henry’s lungs, and Henry can do nothing else but curl his arms around the trembling man now occupying his lap.

“It’s ok, I’m here,” he murmurs, rubbing a soothing hand down Alex’s back.

“How?” Alex chokes out. “How did you…?”

His voice trails off as he raises his left arm and looks at his own wrist, where a bit of watch strap peeks out beyond the filthy cuff of his shirt. Inexplicably, his captors had let him keep it, though that becomes more understandable when his sleeve slips further down and Henry sees how he’s smeared it with mud. The exquisite Patek Philippe now looks like a beaten up piece of junk.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Alex says, his voice cracking over the syllables. He drops his arm and tries to bury his face in Henry’s chest. “That probably sounds dumb.”

“No, love, it doesn’t,” Henry says, holding him tighter. It’s torture to pull away, but eventually he must. “Come on,” he says, tipping Alex’s chin, now covered in a scraggly beard, up so their eyes meet. “Let’s get you out of here.”

[cloverfieldds]

someone requested for the full thing so um here ^^!

tw - detrans, religious play, cnc

being corrupted by a prest at a convent.

heading to a confessional full of guilt because you promised you wouldn’t engage in any more sinful behaviors or thoughts, but you’ve been binding lately and denying your god given sex.

you shyly step into the confessional box and stay silent as you’re scared to utter any words. its like you know that he knows why youre here.

“forgive me father..” you choke on your words, already ready to cry at the thought of his response.

“save it, my child. how many times are we to go through with this? i’m starting to think you want the devil to keep a hold on you.”

“no!” you cry out in desperation, feeling sick at the mere thought. “my body just feels wrong, father. like im not supposed to be… a girl”

no response. you can feel the disappointment through a heavy sigh followed by the opening of his door. your eyes begin to water as thoughts embrace your mind, telling you that he’s given up on you and that youre beyond healing. you stifle the cries threatening to leave your throat as your hands lay themselves over your lips. you’ve disappointed everyone in the church, not just yourself.

the door opens for you, only slightly, a crack of light hitting your eye as it does.

the priest locks eyes with you, a furrowed, disgusted expression on his face. “follow me,” he utters before turning around and leading you to his office.

you hesitantly follow him and look around the empty sanctuary, happy no one is there to have overheard anything, to have seen how disappointed youre making everyone. you step into his office, surprisingly for the first time, and watch as he gestures you to sit down, his seat right across from yours, save from his desk between you two. you sit in an uncomfortable silence and try your best to focus on not crying even though the tears are seconds from falling from your eyes.

the silence itself has gone on too long, it feels like it’s been hours of him just staring you down. you open your mouth to break it but as soon as you try speaking you choke and those tears start to fall. uncontrollable sobbing emits from your side of the desk and you begin wiping your tears slower than they fall. “im sorry.. m so so sorry father please dont be mad i tried please.”

you hear a slight groan from him as you cry out and force yourself to lock eyes with him. he is clearly irritated at you, but there is only so much you can do, right? this isnt really your fault. its the devil.

he calls out your name, “truthfully, youre trying your hardest—dedicating your life to the lord like you should be?” you shakingly nod. he falls silent once more and you find yourself looking down to the floor again. his eyes dont leave you but he still doesnt speak. this suffocation making you only more nauseated within yourself. “would you do anything to reconnect with the lord and fix yourself, my child?”

“yes! yes, father! i would!” you cry out.

“…come here.”

you look back up and watch as his chair slightly swivels to the right, indicating for you to walk around his desk and stand directly in front of him. tears continue streaming down your face as your eyes gaze upon his shoes. the same black leather shoes that youve seen a thousand times before during service. but this time it seems just a bit more humiliating.

“father..”

“hush, child.” his hand reaches toward your arm and slowly slides down to grab onto your hand. “god created these hands, my child. such girly, feminine hands,” he moves his hand to your hips, gladly watching you flinch at each and every movement. “such a godly frame going to waste. if your parents knew half of the things youve told me, im sure theyd strip you down to the core of your soul and make you apologize for every sin youve confessed to me.” you can feel every movement against your skin, slightly shaking as he slips his hand beneath your shirt, pausing as he gets to your binder. your breath hitches upon the realization.

“father.!”

“you confess your sins to me while still committing them?” you cant find it in yourself to respond. “take it off.”

you raise a brow, your crying coming to a temporary stop. “father.. could you.. turn around?”

“how am i sure you wont lie to me again? take it off. ill be watching.” your hands shake as you start to move, but you cant deny an order from the only person who knows your secret, the only one who can and would help you. he watches silently as you lift your top, hanging it on the wrist of your arm while you close your eyes and force the binder from your skin. you start to cry once more, but keep yourself going with the thought that hes just trying to help.

your binder is off, and you move to slide your shirt back onto your body, but quickly open your eyes back up once his hand grabs your wrist.

“did i say to put that back on?”

you shake your head, “but sir”

“put your hands down.” slowly, you listen to his command, only crying more at the action as you do. “stay still.” you watch as his hands move to your chest. you wanna say something, scream for help, anything, but you cant. everyone will know if they see, the binder you once wore so clearly laying out on his desk. your eyes close again as he starts to fondle you. and even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on your chest, almost like theyre following the movement of his own hands as he gropes and pinches at you. you hold in sounds of discomfort.

“this is what these are meant for. youre ruining yourself squishing them against that rib cage of yours. god’s creations are not meant to be hidden.” you wince as he pinches your nipple.

it feels like forever has gone by of him stimulating your chest, your thighs now subconsciously and slightly rubbing together as the feeling has started to turn you on. just as you hoped he wouldnt notice, you almost jump as he places a hand on the waistband of your boxers and starts to pull them down in a bundle with your pants. your hands shoot down to grip onto the fabric as your eyes lock with his. you can feel your heart skip a beat as he raises an eyebrow, a silent warning not to do anything stupid. you cant find it in yourself to move your hands. your binder- your chest is one thing but this? no one is supposed to see you like this.

“please.. ill be good, ill throw the binder and boxers and everything away, please,” you cry out as your fists tighten around the fabric.

he stares in silence as pleas leave your mouth on mindless repeat. within a few minutes his hands leave your pants and you can feel a wave of relief wash over you.

“get on your knees.” you shakingly fall to the floor, thinking nothing more than him sparing your nudity. your crying quickly stops once more as you watch him unbuckle his pants, staring at you as he does so. “youre going to cleanse yourself.” his dick is pulled from his boxers, stroking it with care as he stares at you. “ill teach you what it means to be a man, why you can never be one yourself.” and again, your tears begin to flow. you watch as his hand reaches for your hair, gripping it in your hands as you feel strands strain against your scalp. you cant beg anymore, your hand holds onto his wrist as a silent ask for mercy, but a sting is quickly felt on your cheek as a heavy hand makes impact with your cheek. “open.”

you oblige.

within moments, youre sucking off your pastor as he forces your tongue down his shaft, occasionally giving you instruction on how to make himself feel good. his thickness strains against the inside of your mouth as his moans fill your ears. your nipples rub against the cloth of his pants as he fucks your mouth, wetness forming in your boxers as he does so.

soon his moans grow longer, instructions of what to do turning more and more into praises from his lips. the praise sending a shiver down your spine. your face is suddenly pushed against his pubes as he twitches against you, cum shooting down your throat as you try your best to swallow in order to not drown in cum.

with a pop, dick is removed from your mouth as any remaining cum drips from your lips and down your chin. you look up at him with a pathetic, whiny look that sends blood straight back to his cock. “you have no idea how whorish you are, my child. stand up.”

you stand on his command and try simultaneously  wiping the tears from your eyes while removing the cum from your mouth. you watch his hand start to stroke his cock once more in a horrified silence. his hand moves back to your waistband and begins sliding them down once more. you dont have the will to stop him this time, but that doesnt stop you from begging him to not go through with this, making desperate promises of staying a girl and not going through with your transition. he ignores you as annoyance rises within him.

“ill make sure you stick to that.” quickly your pants and boxers are on the floor, a slight wetness on your inner thighs. slick coats them and youre guided to spread your legs as he licks his fingers and rubs your clit. “are you still a virgin, my child?”

you nod, embarrassed.

“tch,” he kisses his teeth. “the only godly thing about you.” you look away as he keeps on stimulating you, holding in your moans while your lips are coated in your own juices. just as you get used to the feeling, you can feel a foreign feeling at your lips, quickly looking down just in time to see him push a finger inside of you, a pained moan escape you as he does so. you cry out while your body falls forward and your hands find stability on his shoulders.

“no..!” you sob against him as he starts to move, not waiting for you to adjust to the feeling. “father! i havent.. please!”

he ignores you and continues to thrust in and out, the sound of your juices coating his finger filling your ears as his moans once did. quickly a second finger joins his first and you fully buckle over on top of him, your knee placed in between his legs on his chair as your pants drop and are left wrapped around one ankle.

“youll be ready soon, my child. dont cry.” he spits out disgustingly soothing words while you cry anyway. the thickness of his fingers is too much, and you can only imagine how painful itll be when he finally fucks you.

almost as if reading your mind, his fingers pull themselves out and his slaps your pussy before moving a hand back to his cock. “thatll be enough.”

your eyes widen as speaks, knowing yourself that it isnt enough at all. “no, father just a bit more.. please!”

he ignores you and gestures for you to climb on top of him as you cry out.

“no! no!” you grab his hand and lead it back towards your boycunt, pathetically grinding against it in hopes that hell continue to fingerfuck you. “see? just a bit more! please! pl-“

a harsh hand hits your cheek once more, that familiar sting shutting you up and stopping your cries.

“get up here or ill inflict a godly punishment onto you.”

your hand grips onto his shoulder for stability as you slowly climb on top of him, apologizing to god as you do. your lips tremble while you speak and do your best to keep from any more physical punishment.

his cockhead glides against your lips, the wetness from his spit, your slick, and his cum mixing together. he tries to push in, slipping against your lips as it doesn’t go. a simple “relax” leaves his mouth as if its that easy, but you try anyway. and within a few more tries, the pain from his initial entrance hits you. you let out a guttural moan as your head falls onto his shoulder, crying out in pain. he wastes no time moving deeper inside of you. your fingers grip onto his shoulders and you continue to beg for mercy. the tightness of your virgin walls doesnt help your desperation. with a final thrust, hes completely inside of you, listening to your heavy breathing as you subconsciously clench around his dick. he pauses for a bit, finally letting you catch your breath as he rubs circles on your back, calling you a good girl and loving the feeling of your pussy every time the words leave his lips.

“are you alright?” you shake your head, unable to speak. he doesnt seem to care.

his hands grip onto your hips and quickly start to thrust himself into you. you let out another painful cry, feeling nothing but regret. you wish you left the church and let him tell everyone. you wish you never took your binder off or let him remove your boxers. you wish your stupid boycunt didnt get wet from all the friction on your nipples. you wish you didnt let him grope and molest you like that. but it doesnt seem to matter. your hole burns and hes thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

“this is.. your role as a wom.. as a woman.” he groans into your ear. “do you hear me?” you can only sob out incoherent responses. “you were made.. made for this, my child.” you clench around his dick every time he speaks, like some dirty and raw part of you likes being spoken to like this. “thinking.. someone as slutty as you? someone so.. fuck,” you jump (well, as much as you can) at his swearing, “so clearly made for being penetrated was meant to.. to be a boy?”

“..m sorry.. sorry sorry” you apologize between chokes and cries.

“fuck.. even touching you is corrupting me. youll need to pray every hour if you want forgiveness at this.. at this rate.” you can feel your body convulsing at his words, begging him to stop because something unholy is clearly building up inside of you, but he doesnt care. if anything, he goes faster, finger moving towards your clit as he starts to rub with a painfully blissful harshness.

“such a perfect cunt.. fucking.. tight whore…” his teeth latch onto your neck as he continues to fuck you, wet sounds emitting from both of you and echoing around his office. “made to be bred. arent you?”

your head shots up as he thrusts against your gspot, watching your back arch as he does it once more. “no..! n..no! not ins..inside!” you fight back once more, hands pounding against his shoulders as you cum, crying out in agony while he keeps on fucking you. “please!”

his hand moves up to your throat, annoyed with your writhing and begging, aiming to cum inside you without care for your disarrayed demeanor.

within moments, his thrusts become more and more broken and disorganized. groans are forced into your ear as he pulls you towards him. you feel his cock twitch inside of you as hot cum coats your walls. you moan out, as much as you can with a hand gripped around your throat, before he releases you and allows your coughing fit on his shoulder, falling forward and trying to catch your breath while cum drips out of your full pussy.

a few moments of silence are interrupted as he begins to kiss up and down your neck before lifting you off of him. he smiles at the sound you make when he removes himself from your boycunt. youre lazily cleaned and redressed in a daze.

“i expect to see you at service this sunday, is that clear?” he buckles his pants back.

“..yes, father.”

[amara555555]

I’m starting to get inspo from sad yet satisfying stories:

Goo x little sister reader (platonic):

The tears that pricked your eyes stung far worse now that they had been repressed for so long.

The uneven length of your hair only started to look worse the longer you looked at it, your hands trembled as the mothers outside the bathroom door all talked and shook their heads disappointedly. None of them could get answers out the girls who supposed played hairstyles with all the girls.

A soft sob left you as you scrolled through the four contacts on your phone. Your older brother insisted on a phone at 8 years old. You’re in his custody after all.

Your finger trembled before it clicked over his name and the dreaded but desperate dial rang.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

“HEY SWEETIE!”

Your heart only hurt more once you could hear how excited he was.

“How’s the party?? You don’t understand how me and Gun are missing out, I swear to god business has been SO SLOW-“

A sob left you and his cheery tone left along with it.

“…..Y/N. What happened?”

His tone now sincere and concerned once your tears rolled and sobs left more freely.

“Goo, I need you to- look I’m ok alright, I just- I need you to pick me up please-“

A deeper voice in the background of his call spoke and Goo shushed him.

“Hey hey hey, I’m on my way. Yeah? I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I promise.”

—————————————

Your stare out the window was lifeless. Goo argued with the moms who were supposedly incharge of this shit show in the first place. The big man in front glanced at you through the rear view mirror through his shades. His scary eyes were uncharacteristically softer once his gaze landed on the unevenly cut hair and your tear face, your tiny form swallowed by Goo’s expensive coat.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SUPERVISED?!”

You flinch at Goo’s shriek, he stormed back to the car with a tight jaw and eyes narrowed. You watch him stand by your door and take a deep breath. His hand latched onto the door handle and he pulled it open before his hands reached out to wipe your face.

“Everything’s gonna be ok. I love you.”

He stoked over your locks.

“I love you.”

You didn’t respond from your upset state and Goo nodded to himself, seemingly growing more pissed at the situation before he ruffled your hair and put your baby blue, cat eared, multicoloured LED lights beats over your ears before closing the door.

————————————

Goo’s POV:

The leather wheel clenched under this hands as he squeezed the wheel, letting out a groan of protest.

“Calm down.”

“Fuck off Gun.”

Gun’s glare shot to Goo’s clenched jaw as he drove, pissed off.

“Breaking your fucking car won’t fix shit.”

Goo let out a low growl.

“Fucking kids. Kids, Gun. Fucking kids cut off half her head!”

Gun spoke low.

“Calm down, don’t let her hear you. She already had to go through it.”

Goo ran a hand over his face while seething, his glasses pushed up to his head.

“I need to kill someone.”

They were both at a loss.

Goo’s eyes flicked up to see you asleep. The beats he brought you gleaming a rainbow light, but the uneven hair length once again pissed him off. Part of your scalp visible.

He spent ages, ages growing out your hair. He loved how you’d look like a tiny fairy. Long hair he’d design into styles that you’d pick from Pinterest and he’d search and practice for hours on tutorials.

Happiness.

Fucking wasted.

The helplessness stumped them both. Gun itched for a cigarette but the child in the car left him chewing strawberry gum instead. Meanwhile your big brother resisted the urge to traumatise you by smashing his head on the wheel and waking you up in the process.

“What do I do?”

Gun glared out the window.

“You could try suing.”

Goo’s jaw clenched.

“Be fucking for real.”

Being criminals only stumped them both.

“I could hire kids to kick their asses.”

Goo almost agreed before realising it could link back to his little sister and chose not to answer.

Gun sighed and swallowed his gum.

They were stumped.

————————————

Goo’s hold on the longer side of your hair left you anxious, upset, all the negative feelings your mind could muster. He evened it with his fingers as he measured out the new length, needed for it to look even.

“Here we go princess.”

A snip sounded and Gun sat in the corner, his elbows rested on his knees, seeing you now sporting a slightly long pixie cut.

“…..looks nice.”

Your gaze drifted from Gun’s scarred but grinning face. The grin he did once he found something interesting.

A slight ‘Hmpf’ sounded from the corner before your eyes darted to the pink haired idol sitting on the couch in the corner. Watching the whole ordeal as support.

“You’re making me jealous now.”

You blink before looking at your brother who was smiling.

“I gotta say, if I wasn’t in…..’business’ I’d be doing this.”

He shakes out your short hair with a grin.

“Let’s make it blonde and we both can look like flash Gordon-“

“For god sake Goo- she doesn’t need your Jeffery Dahmer hair colour.”

———————————

Goo walked you to class, his big hand engulfed yours as the man had heavily insisted on walking you in, regardless of the bumbling principle denying it.

Your class room was full to the brim before Goo walked you to your desk. Some of the kids watched in curiosity as the man sat you down. His blue, expensively branded suit and golden tie, stood him out like a sore thumb.

He took out your books for you and pushed your bangs out your face before speaking to you in a soft tone.

“You gonna be ok?”

You nod.

“I love your hair.”

A whiney and shrilly voice spoke out and Goo’s head snapped to the little girl with blondey hair and a very mean word of a smile he wanted to scream at the girl.

“It’s so pretty.”

She continued with a taunty voice. You swallowed and instinctively looked down in shame. The teacher’s voice barely made a difference from the lack of her care of the bullying…….

Goo’s jaw clenched as a visible vein popped out. No wonder this shit happened.

He stands and walks around a few desks before aggressively spinning the girl’s desk and throwing a fire extinguisher so close to her head that her blonde hair was scathed. The wall behind her was broken through once the fire extinguisher broke through.

The girl’s scream silenced once Goo’s glare stayed on her. And the teacher stood in fearful shock.

Goo only walked to the desk and roughly spun in back into place. Leaving her traumatised and frozen. Good. Goo thought to himself.

His steps echoed along the stairs of the school as he sent a grand into your bank account with a small message of: ‘buy yourself something nice.’

He proudly put his hands in his pockets before heading off with a happy whistle and little jump in his step.

Meanwhile you sat there. A sudden and loving realisation that maybe……you were loved.

(Yes I copied that one movie scene I forgot the name of the movie too-)

[vodika-vibes]

All Of Me

Summary: When Rex and his Cyare get stranded on a planet far from the core, he decides to make the most of it.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 888

Warnings: Reader is self conscious and shy, reader described as having hair long enough to hang over her shoulders.

A/N: I was in a Rex mood, so I wrote this. Also, my form list changed suddenly, so if I missed anyone in the tags that's why. Stupid google.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Her fingers are gentle as they brush through his short hair. It’s so soothing and relaxing that Rex can’t help but tilt his head back into her hand. Drowsily, he peers up at her, and affection swells in his chest at the soft look on her face, and the gentle smile that lifts her lips.

Rex is lounging in the hot spring, a towel around his waist to shield his modesty (as if it’s needed), and his beloved is sitting behind him on the edge of the pool, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair loose around her shoulders.

Her smile is becoming more and more rare these days. He’s more likely to see a stressed frown or a distracted look on her face recently. And, while he’s not thrilled about the fact that they were stranded here while on a mission, he supposes that there is a silver lining.  

“You’re staring,” Her voice is soft, and musical in a way that his and his brothers will never be. He falls in love with her all over again, every time she speaks to him.

“Can’t help it. You’re stunning.”

She averts her gaze shyly, “The things you say sometimes.”

“I mean every word.”

His beloved has always been self-conscious about her appearance. If he asked what she liked about herself, it would probably take her half an hour to come up with something that isn’t something she does for other people.

Rex, personally, thinks it’s ridiculous.

He could, and can, list ten things he loves about her without even thinking about it. He can talk about all of her good qualities for hours without getting tired, and without even mentioning her appearance.

He might be a little smitten.

It’s fine.

He’s allowed to be a little obsessed with his girlfriend.

A soft giggle pulls him from his thoughts, “You’re still staring, Rex.”

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Yeah? Good things, I hope?” Her fingers still trail through his short hair, and he sighs contently. 

“Only the best things.” He reassures her before he catches one of her hands and brings her fingers to his lips, “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, I love you too.”

“You deserve better than me.” Rex replies. He genuinely believes it. He’s a clone, and she’s an aide to a Senator. She could do so much better than him. But she only has eyes for him.

She just shakes her head, “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

He threads his fingers with hers, “Join me in the water, cyare?” It’s an offer and a plea. 

She looks momentarily surprised, “I didn’t want to crowd you.”

“You could never.” He holds her hand as she stands, and he supports her as she steps into the steaming water. And, when it looks like she’s going to step away from him, Rex doesn’t release her hand. Instead, he tugs her to sit next to him.

The water sits higher on her than on him, and the tips of her hair settle in the water. She really does look like some kind of fantasy princess. Absently, he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair off her cheek, only for it to fall right back into place again.

“You have so much hair,” He teases lightly.

A smile lifts her lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It makes up for the fact that I don’t have any.”

A laugh falls from her, and Rex grins before he leans in to press his lips against hers. The kiss is chaste, little more than a brush of his lips against hers, but when her free hand comes up to wrap around his bicep and his name falls from her lips in a sigh, he’s helpless but to swoop in and kiss her again and again and again.

His hand settles on her hip, squeezing tightly and pulling her closer to his side. She’s not close enough. She’ll never be close enough. She could be sitting on him and still wouldn’t be close enough.

She sighs his name again, and Rex chuckles as he presses his forehead against hers, “You sound lovesick, beautiful.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Yes, he is smug about that thank you.

“Can I—?” She hesitates, “Um…nevermind.”

“Mm, speak your mind, cyar’ika.”

She won’t meet his gaze, “Can I sit on your lap?”

Rex doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to answer. Because as soon as she makes the request (it wasn’t a request, he knows that, but he’s choosing to treat it as a request) he’s pulling her to sit sideways on his lap, “How’s this?”

She hums a response, her soft fingers moving to trace the starburst scar on his chest, as she lays her head on his shoulder. “Perfect.”

“You never have to ask, cyare. I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Rex replies.

She turns her head to kiss his shoulder, “Well then. I’m a lucky lady.”

“I think I’m the lucky one, actually.” Rex kisses the side of her head and tightens his arms around her as he lets the conversation fall. 

Eventually the ship will return and they’ll have to go back to being Captain and Senator’s Aide, but for now they can just be together. And he intends to make the most of it.

@heidnspeak

@adriennelenoir

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@yoitsjay

@kimiheartblade

@liz-stat

@justiceandwar98

@etod

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@continous-mistakes

@wax-birds

[lightshowerrr]

𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

In which : is there anything so under doing as a daughter?

Father figure!Satoru Gojo x Daughter figure fem!reader

(this is platonic. I'm not doing incest tf)

Inspired by the song Die Your Daughter by Susannah Joffe !!

The air in Shibuya felt heavy, like a storm brewing on the horizon. The crackling tension from every direction seemed to close in around you as you stood in the shadow of the man who had always been your protector.

Satoru Gojo.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to see him in this moment. But here you were, standing at the edge of the battlefield, watching as your father figure prepared to fight the curse king himself, Sukuna.

“Go,” Gojo's voice rang out, confident and unyielding as always, but there was something different in it today. The weight of his words settled deep in your chest as you clutched your hands, fingers trembling at your sides. “Stay out of this. You’ve done enough.”

“No!” Your voice cracked as you stepped forward, panic rising in your throat. “You don’t understand! You can’t— you can’t do this! Not without me—”

His smile was like a blade, sharp and cruel as he turned to face you, his hands resting casually on the cursed tools at his sides. “You want to stop me?”

“I don’t want to lose you, Dad,” you choked, your heart racing in your chest. It had never been easy to admit that to him. You'd never dared to call him that until now, but in the midst of this chaos, it felt like the only thing you could do to make him understand.

Gojo’s face softened for a fraction of a second, the flicker of his usual warmth shining through before the mask of strength and indifference returned. “Listen, (Name). Everyone is going to forget about me when I’m gone. I know that. I have dreams, I have love, just like everyone else.” His voice was unwavering, even as it seemed to crack under the weight of his own words.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You couldn't lose him. He had promised that he would always be there for you, that you would never have to face this world alone again. Yet now, it felt like he was slipping away, and you couldn't stop him.

“No…” you whispered, stepping closer, desperation lacing your every movement. “You’re not just a dream, Satoru. You’re everything to me. I’ve only ever had you, and now—”

He held up his hand, stopping you with a gesture so gentle it felt like a weight on your heart. “Promise me, (Name), promise me you’ll stay safe. You have your own fight to win.” His eyes were filled with something deep—something that spoke of the long, hard road ahead, a road where he would no longer be there to walk beside you.

The promise hung in the air like a sword, a vow that would be broken before the day was done.

“I won’t lose. I’ll win,” he swore, his voice strong again, but something flickered behind his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t so sure.

But you couldn’t let him leave. “I can’t bear it, Gojo! I can’t bear losing you!” The tears burned in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t break in front of him, not when he needed to be strong.

Satoru's gaze softened, and he bent down to meet your eyes. “You don’t have to bear it. I’m going to make sure you don’t have to bear anything alone. But you have to trust me, okay?”

And with that, he turned, and for the first time, he walked away from you, stepping into the jaws of fate, into the battle that would change everything.

____

Hours passed in a blur.

The screams, the chaos, the crashing sound of curses colliding, of blood splattering across the concrete.

But it was the silence that hit hardest.

The moment the battle stopped, when the earth seemed to still, you knew.

It was over.

Gojo was gone.

And you were alone again.

You stumbled forward, as if trying to reach him, your legs giving out beneath you as the weight of the truth crushed you. You could still hear his words in your ears—his promise. But now, it felt empty. A lie.

The strongest sorcerer was dead.

Your father figure was dead.

And there was nothing left but the hollow ache in your chest and the cruel reality that everything you had known was no more.

You sank to your knees, the world around you spinning, and the only thing you could hear was the soft, distant sound of your heart breaking.

"Everyone will forget about me when I'm gone..." Gojo’s words echoed in your mind, but they didn’t sound like a promise anymore. They were a warning.

You had never imagined what it would feel like to lose him.

Now you knew.

And it hurt.

The world would go on, and you would try to as well, but everything would be different now. Because without him, how could you ever move forward?

But deep down, you promised yourself one thing.

You would never forget.

____

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cemetery as you walked beside Shoko Ieiri. The air felt heavy, filled with the weight of things unsaid, of grief that never quite left your bones. You had made this journey before, but this time it felt different. More final, somehow.

Shoko didn’t speak, her presence quiet yet steady, as you both walked towards the graves. It was a familiar place now—too familiar—but still, it was hard to come here. You never really knew how to feel when you stood before Satoru Gojo’s grave. After all, you had never expected to be in this position.

He had been your everything. The man who had given you love when you had none. The one who had saved you, pulled you from the wreckage of a life that didn’t know how to love you back. And now he was gone.

But you had to come. You had to say goodbye.

Satoru’s grave was right beside Suguru’s—two names etched into stone side by side, forever tied together. It seemed impossible, a cruel reminder of what had been lost. You knelt before them, your heart clenching tightly in your chest as you placed a single flower at the base of the gravestones.

Shoko stood behind you, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes tracing the graves with a quiet solemnity. She had been with Satoru and Suguru through it all, and she had known Satoru in ways that no one else could.

"You never really get used to it," Shoko said, her voice soft, though it carried the weight of the years they had spent together. "Seeing them here, like this."

You nodded, your fingers still resting on the cool stone of Satoru’s grave. It was a strange, bitter comfort. To be so close, yet still so far away.

It wasn’t just Satoru who had left, though. Suguru had been the one to make the choice. The decision that had split their once unbreakable bond. The day Suguru had turned his back on everything, on everyone.

But you could never forget the days before that. When Satoru had told you about Suguru—their friendship, the laughs, the memories. The way Satoru’s eyes had softened whenever he spoke of him, a hidden sadness there that no one but Shoko had ever noticed. He had said it once, just after they had lost Suguru, that he would always remember their bond. That nothing could truly break it, not even death.

And you remembered how he had told you everything, how he had found you after Geto left Jujutsu High. You were nothing back then—lost, broken, abandoned. But Satoru had picked you up. He had taken you under his wing and promised that you’d never be alone.

He had told you about his past with Shoko and Suguru in that soft, almost wistful voice. The laughter they shared, the arguments that only friends who had been through everything could understand, the quiet nights they spent talking about their hopes and fears for the future. He had trusted you with those memories, even though it had hurt him to speak of them. Because he knew that you would understand, that you would be the one who would remember when no one else would.

His words played over and over in your mind as you knelt before his grave: "No one will remember me when I'm gone, but I'll always have love. I'll always have my dreams. I'll always have you, even if it's not the way I want it."

You closed your eyes, remembering the warmth of his smile, the way he made you feel safe when everything around you was chaos. And then, you remembered the last time you had seen him—the way he had looked at you, so full of unspoken promises. He had never said goodbye. It had been his way to make sure you knew he’d always be there, even after death.

But now, he was gone.

Your breath caught in your throat, the sharp sting of tears threatening to spill, but you fought them back. You weren’t going to cry. Not here. Not in front of Shoko.

Shoko stepped forward then, her voice steady despite the hurt beneath it. "He would have wanted us to keep living, (Name). To keep going, even when it feels impossible."

"I know," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "But it’s so hard, Shoko. So hard to accept he’s really gone."

Shoko’s gaze softened, and for a moment, she let the silence stretch between you both. Then she placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch a quiet reassurance. "You don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’m still here."

You nodded, grateful for her presence, but there was a part of you that felt an unspoken distance between you and everyone else. A part of you that would always be tethered to the man who had been more than just a mentor, more than just a protector. Satoru had been your family. And now, you had to learn how to live without him.

The wind whispered through the cemetery again, rustling the leaves of the trees above. You stayed there for a long time, eyes lingering on the gravestones of Satoru and Suguru. In some strange way, it felt like they were still there, still watching over you. The memories were vivid in your mind—Satoru’s laugh, his soft teasing, his quiet moments when he would lower his guard just enough to show you a glimpse of the person he used to be before the weight of the world crushed him.

But the world was cruel. The world didn’t care for the strongest sorcerer, for the one who had given everything to protect it.

And yet, you would carry his memory with you. You would remember the man who had made you feel seen, who had given you everything when you thought you had nothing.

With a final breath, you whispered into the wind, "I won’t forget you, Satoru. I promise."

Shoko gave you one last look before she turned to leave, her footsteps soft against the earth. You stayed there for a moment longer, the ache in your heart as sharp as ever, but there was a sense of peace settling over you.

Maybe it would never get easier. Maybe you would always miss him. But you knew one thing for sure.

You wouldn’t forget him. Not ever.

[reverieblondie]

As someone who will just start tearing up if someone raises their voice at me while they're angry (even if it's not at me), I can't help but wonder how Rolan would react to falling for someone like that.

A/N: Thank you for this request! So I some drabbles similar to this here so if your interested check it out! But I'm always willing to write more for Rolan so I hope you enjoy!

He can't believe you're actually trying to talk to him, the udder nerve after what you caused.

Asking about his family! Rolan feels like he could burst at any moment, you daring to udder Cal and Lias' names.

"They are my responsibility!" He snaps bitterly, his voice rising to a yell.

Rolan then sees a flicker of something change in your expression—true remorse. It's in your eyes; he can see it steadily rising as you stare at each other. Finally, you break, first darting your eyes to the floor.

"I... I am so sorry... I won't rest till they come back." Rolan Catches the tremble in your voice. And there's an aching twist in his chest before he scoffs it off.

"Save it... just... leave me alone...." 

Without another word, he hears you step away; Rolan chugs down the last of his drink as the wobble in your voice echoes in his ears. 

It's hard to breathe, hard to see, and hell, with every step, it gets harder to even move.

Rolan can feel that not only is he drained of magic, but he's also drained of energy.

Protect them, watch over them, your family too... Those words told to him so long ago are what keep him going forward, holding tight onto his torch in a knuckle-paling grip. He has to find them, he has to... they are all he has left! His family!

As the panic in his chest swells, adrenaline gives him energy back to his limbs. Rolan begins to run through the shadows blindly, his eyes set forward, and he ignores everything around him. That desperation causes his misstep, forcing him to the ground instantly. Sitting up with a hiss, he quickly remembers where he is scrambling for his torch. As soon as he has it back in his grasp, he sees the inky, wet shadow demons slivering at his heels.

Managing to pull some energy, he thunderwaves the creature back before scrambling to his feet. Standing, he sees his surroundings—and out of everything. Rolan's fist tightens as he looks at what he's sure is his fate. 

He will fight, but he knows his body will be unrecognizable after this land gets a hold of his corpse. He gritted his teeth... that will probably be best... He doesn't want Cal and Lia seeing him that way. He suddenly thinks of your words, face... your smile at the party.....

Please let her save them and do what he shamefully could not.

Once cornered with nowhere to go, he closes his eyes... It's over... it's done.....

'Rolan!"

The sound of his name forces his eyes to see you, your face one of panic as it's locked on him... Your hands tremble with sparks of fire as the shadows melt before him... You're here… You found him, saved him... always having to be saved... 

Rolan grimaces as you run to him, your voice a blur behind his racing thoughts... then when it's all too much, it bursts out of him.

"Damn it all!" he snaps in your face, "Out of all the people, it's you saving me! Can I do nothing!" Rolan throws his hands in his hair, tugging on his hair till it's loosening.

How did you even find me?" Rolan growls again. His eyes meet yours, and the rest of his tantrum dies in his throat.

Tears rush from your eyes over your flushed cheeks, your breath hiccuping as you try to speak, "I-I am... sorry... pl- please don't yell Ro-Rolan... I was so...scared... you were g-gone!"

Rolan's eyes flick from you to your party. He's in shock that you're crying, but they act like this is common! You're supposed to be a hero, but you're crying!

He's making you cry! Instinctively, Rolan reaches for it, but he pauses before he can touch your skin. You're balling, and he's the one who feels helpless. 

Rolan sighs a standing breath as he clenches his fists out to his sides. "Please, stop crying." His head hangs lower, and he brings his hands to his face. "Please... I won't yell; just please stop."

His sensitive ears hear you steading and swallowing down your tears. Finally, he peaks back up to your puffy tear-stained face... Rolan's chest aches at the helpless sight of you. With another sigh, he relents to you," Fine... I will go back... I know when I've been bested. Wipe away your tears." 

Sniffling and stuttering, you finally speak again. "I will find them."

Rolan looks over you; somehow, despite how you look, he knows you will... "Please do..."

Everyone is in uproar as they reunite. Rolan pushes through the crowd, looking frantic. When he finally sees Cal and Lia, he wraps his arms around them both in the tightest hug he can manage. The moment is a refreshing wave of relief before suddenly he pushes himself back.

"What the hell, you ass! What were you thinking!" He yelled at them, letting all his pent-up emotions free.

"We were kidnapped by crazy cultists!" Lia challenges, of course, and they start to bicker, but Cal is wrapping them before it can get to a fever pitch. All in a hug once more.

"We are all here and safe... that's all that matters." Rolan and Lia stay quiet. He's right. They are safe and together…

"How could we ever thank her..." Lia says as she looks out from the embrace, Rolan looks over to see you smiling at it all. He feels his cheeks redden, and before he knows it, he's marching over to you.

"Hey!" he says a bit louder and harsher than intended. As soon as that reaches you, your eyes water. Rolan pauses with a gulp. Bloody hells, he doesn't want you to cry again! Your eyes are so full of tears, your breaths stuttering and short. The thought alone brings his stomach to knots.

Rolan lets a long sigh go through his nose before his next move. He steps closer and wraps his arms around you tightly. A slight gasp leaves your lips before he feels you rest your head on his chest, holding him back in return. Rolan holds you in his thankful embrace, trying to ignore Cal and Lias whistling.

It's one of the most stressful days he's had since becoming Archmage and the fall of the absolute. The customers, the shop, usually it's all so easy to handle, but today, it feels like a pile of rocks on his shoulders. Rolan just needed a minute of quiet... just a second to breathe…

Then, in a flash, a novice wizard sets off a grease spell in the shop. Rolan stands next to you with a growl in his throat. Before he can yell, though, he looks over at your worried expression... He can't yell... So he does the next best thing.

With a sigh, Rolan holds his arms to you, his sign of, 'Hold me. before I break.' As you hold him, he feels it all start to melt away. His crybaby hero knows exactly how to melt away all his frustrations.