#Feeling Indescribably Strange

[maybe-drawing]

!! Spoilers for Curse of Strahdanya !!

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Listening to Chapter 11 while Gorcory Shopping sure was a Choice and an Experience™

Sarnax begging for Shepard to k i l l him while I'm standing in the freezer section will now be engraved in my brain forever

I am unwell (/pos)

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[kisekaeheaven]

My heart feels like it's reaching out.

[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

Migraine is looming on the horizon threatening to beat my ass but I did get to give myself a cute little ~me day~ today.

Got my hair done, then got boba and a couple macarons 😋 Spiritually, I am sharing them with my f/os.

[faithdragon36]

Major Daisypaws if youre out there I know our conversation was extremely limited due to the restrictions of Bubble Chat but I love you forever and I hope you find who you’re looking for 💙 peace and love 💙💙

[great-and-small]

I know not everyone grows up near a coast or shoreline but when I was little I feel like it was such a formative activity to walk alongside the ocean and return stranded sea creatures into the water. A kid can learn so much from finding something like a horseshoe crab, this indescribably ancient creation that is so vastly different from them (a curious little primate), and realizing that this bizarre creeping thing upturned in the sand is in need of their help. It’s an incredible exercise in showing immediate compassion to those that need help, even if they are strange or unsettling. Building those empathy and curiosity muscles at the same time. I legitimately think my mom showing four year old me how to carry a horseshoe crab back to the water helped shape who I am as a person.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Run, Run Far Angel

Note || I am obligated as a fanfic author to write this, sue me. I got attached to DogDay, and he deserved better in Chapter 3.

WC || 2,070

<(You are here)><(sequel part)>

Sypnosis || An unlikely shortcoming of a friendly entity, or, You get a new friend in spite of this hellish factory.

The noise that had buzzed in the far reaches in the depths of your ears had annoyed you to no end, insistent to remain with you. So many times over had your guilt marred your sense of peace, your sense of futility. Whatever control you felt you had in your life was completely gone the moment you had come back to the accursed place known as Playtime Co. Toy Factory. So many unruly things had gone here, things done and said that left you chuckling–few that had left you with regrets.

Regrets that had stayed with you for well over ten years, since your co-workers had disappeared. You always had a sinking feeling you knew well what had happened to the last of them, your friends and those that you had come to consider family. 

Then you fell into Playcare, a place once filled with laughter and joy, something of which was indescribable. To know the children here and being able to hear such joyful playing and sometimes the odd cry, it was fulfilling, now the whole Factory–every floor there was to know–was devoid of the very same life you’ve come to know and love all those years ago.

Now the only thing that had tormented your mind, as it always had been since you first arrived, was your fight or flight. Instinctive you were, but you hated every minute of having to run and hide away from the monster that had presided reign over their domain, on of which the very one you had to be stuck with was-

“Catnap?” You muttered, thumbing the scarred fur that was blotched with ashy spots, as if it were burned by fire. 

The small recreational stuffed animal looked so adorable for the most part, yet it disturbed you greatly, guilt was predominant in mind and body. In all of your years you had remembered working at the Factory you don't ever recall the name of Catnap, the creepy elongated mouth had stood out to you the most.

He was hunting you, toying with you for sport. You couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t just gunned you for killing you at a moment's notice, though you felt a breath of relief that you could buy yourself time.

Supposedly some of this relief is partial to the fact that this Ollie kid was guiding you on where to go, with how dark this place was is absurd to you–so the guidance was appreciated. A voice had finally snapped you out of your ever consuming thoughts, it was terribly the truth.

“Hey are you alright? Just press that button and you’ll be through in no time! The small critters cant seem to get you from up there so you should be alright.” Ollie, yes Ollie that is the kids name. Who is this strange person anyway?

Unfortunately you weren’t in a position to worry about that right now, you simply pressed the button with the help of your grabpack. Trying to remember all the hands you had now with you was troublesome, but you manage.

‘I suppose.’ You wonder if there is anyone in this place that won’t actively be out for your head, truth be told.

Maybe that was a miracle in mind, as you walked through the desolate rubble the air seemed to desaturate, a mist once permeated with dread and the iron taste of blood seemed to float away as you came across a surprising display. Gruesome but something nobody should have to see or experience. 

It seemed to be DogDay, you could've sworn coming across a cardboard cutout of the very same character earlier. 

He seemed to be so.. Sad.

“You…you’re Poppy’s angel. Come to save us. Nothing left to save, not here…You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. Their home.” His voice was broken, forlorn, vocal cords riddled with experience he never wanted to relive again. You felt saddened on his behalf, no doubt the pain he is feeling right now is tremendous. For a moment, silence had filled the comfortable atmosphere rendering you with a small pit of anxiety balling within your gut.

Still you feel as if you had to speak, but you allow Dogday to have his part, that much you could try to do for him.

DogDay’s head lolled about as if he were a ragdoll, the effort to make movement was extraneous. “A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit - fill what feels empty inside themselves.” Those words sparked an ire of curiosity inside your trodden heart, you wanted to help him now.

You needed help, especially answers too. He was in pain, and you wanted to help him, so to ease your guilty conscience a little; hopefully in the process of gaining a friend at the same time. “Catnap.. Just, I don’t understand him.” DogDay raised his head, looking at you wistfully as if he had expected the aforementioned cat to be brought up. 

DogDay winced as he moved, each little rattle sending painful vibrations throughout his body–the phantom legs hadn’t brought any peace to him whatsoever.

“That thing…CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” His words carried an aura of ominous spiels, as if you were to heed this warning. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.” 

In their place, you would take measures to avoid such a fate too if you would. To a point, you could sympathize with the small toys, not being able to do anything and the teetering possibility of being killed always hanging over your head. Knowing that alone is unfathomably terrifying.

“Would explain why they were hunting me previously..” You murmur, now tucking that thought to the depths of your mind. Still you wanted to hear out DogDay, for he knew better of what had gone on here then you did. His head had shagged, fur ruffled and dangling about as he had squirmed slightly.

“We tried to fight it, the Prototype’s control. I’m…the last of the Smiling Critters.” His tune was mournful, his friends really had been killed right before his very eyes. Catnap’s gas, you remember it well enough. 

You had to take a moment – articulate your words. You were completely filled to the brim with anxiety and alert, you remind yourself to not let down your guard in spite of being with someone who has no intention of wanting to kill you. “You had tried to escape, and he… knocked you out with his gas?”

DogDay’s brows creased, confirming your answer. You felt so terrible for him, causing you to be firmly set on a decision. 

You were helping him get out of here, in no way shape or form did you feel he should be left behind in shambles like this. “This is probably going to sound, insane. But I’m gonna help you get outta here.” Dogday perked up at this, nodding his head no.

He certainly didn’t want you to die, especially not on his account.

“Angel that is not wise! I will slow you down.” He persists, “Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment–” You didn’t want him to change your mind, so as immediate as you were, You desperately grabbed at his arms.

Quickly and surely enough the small critter toys had began crawling toward DogDay, you certainly would not put up with that. You fired a flare gun at the small critters, as much as you could so you could buy time to get DogDay out of his chains.

It seemed Dogday had sensed your determination to want to help him in spite of his warings, even with how much he had tried to convince you to leave. “You are doing well Angel, keep them away from me.. I will do my best to free myself of these.” His voice felt strained, cut off with a cough as he wriggled free–even if every brittle bone in his body had begged him to just lay there and rest.

You thanked him silently, continuing to work away at the critters who were highly determined in their goal to possess DogDay and resume their chase to kill you. “I am free! Quickly now Angel, quickly.” He ushered you forward to run right away, you picked him up as soon as he had done so and heaved him over your shoulders with a heavy breath as a display of your efforts. To say he was surprised at your willful strength was an understatement, he silently applauded you for your strength to keep moving.

Though, it hadn’t removed any of his worry for you as you continued to run forward, your muscles straining to keep up with your mind. From what he can understand of humans anyway, you were exhausted, though he felt it wasn’t right to speak out on it anyway–safety first before talking. 

“Almost there, Angel.. You just need to get to that elevator over there!” He jabbed his finger in the direction you needed to go, and you went on instinct with his direction. Your muscles ached and burned, but you could rest as soon as you reached the elevator, you couldn’t risk DogDay being left behind helpless with the small critters.

Speaking of which, they were still chasing you and your new companion. You wished they stopped, but you had considered an aforementioned thought, they only do this to ensure their fate wasn’t like his. Since then this has wildly changed.

You were close to the edge.

Then, you leaped, everything seemed to slow down. DogDay held on tightly, hands wrapped around your neck secured tight, to you it seemed comforting in the depths of your sudden despair.

You dropped right onto the metal plate, which luckily had railing. The door shut right behind you as DogDay had quickly made action to press the button to start up the elevator nor long after you had succeeded in jumping to the elevator. He slumped with a sigh, something you could very much agree with, sitting down with a thump following in your wake. 

Truth be told, you weren’t sure of how much more you could take much more of this nightmare. You may just as well be in a very long dream, and you were just actually sleeping at home, but no way however as the exhaustion had finally settled into your bones. 

Weary bones creaked about as DogDay made an effort to check over your slumped body, wanting to ensure you were not injured anywhere before he spoke, “Whatever questions you have..” He paused for a moment as if he were considering his words, something of which seemed to happen to a lot of people and toys alike in this Factory. “I will answer, rest for now first.”

DogDay was being his typical self, always so worried over someone else before considering his own health. His own legs being severed must be a great deal of pain, you wanted to ask him to rest too. Yet, you were too tired to respond, only nodding curtly as sleep had stolen you away from your awakened consciousness. 

A genuine smile seems to relax DogDay’s expression, you sorely needed rest. He would help you get that rest, things to talk about and things to face would come later. “You have done impossible things, you have run far. Thank you.” He quietly spoke, curling up to cuddle you. 

His head laid to rest on the crown of your head, hands and arms elongating ever so slightly to surround you in his warmth. DogDay was a leader, a friend, but he was also a good napping buddy. That much was certainly no lie to be told. 

Silence seemed to fill his ears now, sleep was creeping up to DogDay as well. Ah, he cannot sleep right now. You were in his care and vulnerable, especially considering you had gone through the trouble of freeing him. 

To those tormented, the madness had enraged man and toy, you were their saving graces. Someone they could get behind, without the utmost support where would you be now?

“Night has fallen, but for you I will do my absolute best to help you, Angel.”

[sayoneee]

☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)

contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.

kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now

LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.

the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 

you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 

“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”

“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.

“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”

hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 

you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 

you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  

“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.

luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.

“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.

“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 

“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”

“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”

“because i’m literally right?”

“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 

“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 

“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 

“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.

you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.

you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 

you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.

“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.

“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.

“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.

“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”

you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.

“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 

“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”

you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”

“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”

“— the two of you —”

“— were inseparable —”

“— for a disgustingly long time —”

“— and now you’re not —”

“— but we’re going to the fair because —”

“— his band is playing —”

“— and you’re going to try and fix —”

“— your troubles in paradise.”

you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”

“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.

“not the point, the point is, we support you.”

“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”

“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.

“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.

annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”

“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”

the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.

once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.

the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.

you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 

luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.

“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.

“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 

“i like you,” you say insistently.

“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”

there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 

smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[samodivaa]

Lust looks pretty on you

Bucky x Reader : One Bed Trope. But he is your crush and his body is too close. He can't tell that you are masturbating, right...?

Warnings - soft smut, masturbation Words - 2.5k AN - I want to make a filthy version as well, but this felt just right.

Somehow you cannot help being reminded of a him, you look at him with compassion, sometimes with sympathy—though suddenly in one instant he becomes, as though by chance, lovely and exquisite, you can’t comprehend the power of those pensive eyes flashing with such fire—between the shadow and your soul, you love him, feelings can’t be repressed. But sometimes his eyes, his soft features burn with anguish and you grieve, in silence, that his beauty fades—your eyelashes glisten with tears Bucky never knows of.

When he comes close to you, there is already a gleam of a smile on your lips, faintly blushing and looking down.

“There is a room, but it has only one bed” he says uneasily. “I am okay with that” you say with an indescribable gesture, a gravest face, but your heart begins throbbing. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and-” Bucky speaks timidly in an ingratiating voice. “I assure you” you say in a whisper, full of affection, eyes beaming with delight as you take his human hand.

Finishing your answer, you pause pathetically, because there is an intense desire to force yourself to laugh, already feeling that a malignant demon is stirring inside, making you imagine curtain scenarios and suddenly there is a lump in your throat. You are always so tender, so solicitous with him—your soul is full with loving sympathy. “I can sleep on the floor-” Bucky begins in a plaintive voice, in which there lies a hope, though a very faint one and bends his head. “No, I would never allow that” He is looking at you intently, while a strange curiosity gleams in yours. Bucky stops, with his mouth open, because he can’t speak for delight as you continue to hold his hand. Your lips are quivering and you try to say something as well, but can only convulsively squeeze Bucky's hand in silence. You continue to look affectionately at him as a smile passes over his lips. “Okay” he brings out at last.

When you enter the hotel room, you say tragically “Oh, the bed is small” Your eyes meet, he is gazing at you with a sort of wonder that evidently surprises you. Then, he tilts his head, his thin lips threatening to break into a smile

“But we will manage!” 

You say briskly, quick to add to the previous statement, and, indeed, on the mad idea that flashes on your giddy brain—you will take a long shower in the hopes that he will fall asleep. That position is desperate, but you are hot with shame, because he keeps staring at you, grasping at once that you might be up to some mischief. Bucky always does that—studies every gesture, every movement you make, listens to every vibration of your rich voice, but strange to say, as the result of all his observations tonight, he feels, mixed with a sweet and timid impression, a feeling of intense curiosity. It seems as though he is on the verge of uncovering the mystery of your unusual behavior. But with your masterly acting, trying to keep you together, the whole process goes on in you unconsciously as you approach the other side of the bed in wide steps after having closed the door behind and sit on the mattress. You have purposely chosen this solitary spot, your eyes facing the wall. “You go shower first, I want to call my mom” Bucky grows suddenly confused, and a faint trace of vexation is betrayed in his impatient movement and he is glad that you can’t see it, but he remains quiet, in his heart there is a sort of haunting worry—are you scared of sleeping next to him? Is it because of his nightmares? He is irritated, boiling with indignation and hate, towards himself, for it is the first time that he has felt like that in your presence. Feelings so coarsely handle him—he is reminded of what he truly is. 

The sound of running water echoes as he decides to go and turn the faucet on, adjusting it to a comforting warmth. Heaven. He winces as his back is met with hot water, swapping through his hair, through the curls and then running in streams down his shoulders, muscles protesting with each movement, but the warmth provides a reprieve from the ache that is a companion throughout the whole night. Bucky is analyzing the situation while he showers. His heart leaps and shudders when he exits the bathroom, but he is thankful that you are still talking on the phone so he lays on his side in despair and misery, hiding his face in the pillow, and is alternately feverish and shivery—he will make sure not to sleep, because his mind is too frightened by the the idea of scaring you with his nightmares, in his exhausted state all the emotions of the day come back to him in a rush. Whatever lies hidden in both your secret and behavior, he understands, but it causes moments of anguish of which he won’t forget. You longed to cheer him up, to relieve his anxiety if only by a glance, but when you see him sleeping, you tip-toe to the bathroom as Bucky lays with his eyes shut. When you come back into the room, his eyelashes quiver, but he controls himself and does not open his eyes. Was he that tired?  When you begin pulling up the quilt over you, shame or some other feeling drowns him, wishing to hide from this moment, but he can’t fall asleep so he persisted in lying in bed in silence as you obstinately pull the blanket higher and higher.

A terrible, awful weakness overcomes your senses, you try to lay with your eyes closed, because desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving and you can’t master your need for him—that realization leaves you rather embarrassed, and at once flush crimson. This feels all so humiliating, and then you make that blunder, a very important one—you think about pleasuring yourself. That’s just what makes you so ecstatic, that you have a presentiment.... and though it’s so dreadful, it’s all for the best. In fact, you believe nothing better could have happened, because this is once in a life's opportunity. Involuntarily, you find your eyes scouring the darkness, looking for the outline of his bulky body, but you can only feel the warmth radiating from it. You move your fingers slowly and strainedly, working your way down your torso and swallow when you reach your panties as your nipples harden, poking through your shirt. You swiftly pull your panties to the side, strings of your wetness part from your underwear and you realize—there is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. You breathe meekly and squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, because you hate the notion of being reduced to pleasuring yourself merely because of his close proximity, an embarrassing, desperate thing to do, but even so you keep on gently touching yourself.

You begin sliding your index finger between the folds of your entrance, it makes you shiver and your mouth slightly hangs open, heat rushing to your puffy cheeks, eyes halfway shut. The magic that coils through your own touch leaves you breathless, and your back arches a bit into the sensation as a strange euphoria. You struggle slightly to stay motionless, the other hand trails down to your breasts to squeeze them slightly, purposely avoiding your nipples for now. You use the gathered wetness and press your finger firmly against your clit, making your thighs twitch. A sinner who sins boldly—but that makes you freeze. And yes, you have a sordid soul in many ways, but on the contrary, it is full of a fine feeling—of love for him. You are anxious, worrying is using your imagination to create something you don't want —but what if that movement woke him up? What if he somehow knows?

You start to rub slow circles around your clit as you tilt your head to his side, taking a shallow breath in through your nose. You are so aware of your sin that you fully cherish it and your imagination is a wonderful thing, it allows for all manner of undiscoverable thoughts —will he rub your clit like that? Maybe he will eat you out and moan into your cunt as he devours it? The soft flesh of your inner thighs ripples just a little as your legs shake, even though you try to control it, your chest heaves up and down just by thinking about it. You knead violently at the flesh of your right breast, pinching and flicking at your own nipple as you stimulate yourself. Then something unexpected happens. He sneezes. “Sorry” he says quietly, distinctly. It feels like you are caught, tried, and condemned to death. “Bucky? Bless you” you talk with as much composure as you can. And he was not supposed to hear, because It's a horribly private moment, a vulnerable moment on your part and he should be sleeping.

“Are you—” begins Bucky, but pauses in confusion. “No-” you interrupt suddenly, with a look of weariness, focusing on your lungs, on your ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as the word rolls off your tongue while a deep blush suffuses your face. “Because I am” He is jerking off—? Well he was sliding across the painfully erect cock slowly through the fabric, making sure he didn't cum. His tone is so natural and respectful that you can't possibly suspect him of any insincerity. He feels instinctively that some such well-sounding humbug, brought out by him, will soothe your worries, and will be specially acceptable to you in such a delicate position. It is clear from his radiant face that he considers his words for the right ones in this moment, despite you not seeing his features in the darkness. Bucky gets up on his elbows, there is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his lust takes over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive need, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state. His hard dick twitches and arousal trickles down his spine, because of his own confession. You feel him shift on the bed and he turns on the light on his nightstand. 

His eyes narrow until they have faint darkish glitter. You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he stares at your face, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze. 

You have curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that are very pretty and very nice, he loves when you turn to stare at his blue orbits—but you are fantasizing right now—which is utterly inappropriate for the part of your mind which wants to just hug Bucky all day long. “Were you thinking about me?” He asks innocently as he shamelessly stares—swallowing you whole. Slowly, you nod. He pushes off the blanket and your gaze drops to the outline of his cock, pushing up his heart into his throat—your breathing is eager and exciting—lips are faintly chapple, but soft in the corners. 

And then, his hot mouth is breathing into your ear and before you can even blink, he is on top of you, lips ghost over your earlobe. His hot mouth is breathing into your skin, your chest is pressed against his and he can feel the swell of your breasts through your shirt. You gasp as you feel his broad chest and toned abdomen holding you down as the hard bulge in his boxers rubs deliciously against your clothed pussy lips. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary—he kisses your neck, lips, cheeks, worships your skin, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat. He doesn't want just sex—he seeks passion. “Bucky-”

You keen between short breaths, between his gentle kisses as your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck. He rips your panties down with his metal hand and then reaches into his own to help his cock spring free. Drop of precum lands on your abdomen as he runs his thumb over the veins that run along the underside, barely audible as he drags his fingers across his tip, gathering the wetness before moving his fingers in front of your face. He gently rubs your lower lip, a finger working its way inside of your mouth, pressing on your tongue, eliciting a gag before removing it completely. “God, baby girl” he growls in your ear as his fingers brush up your soaking cunt “You look so innocent yet you were mastrubating right next to me” he goes on as he runs the tip of his finger back and forth, collecting your slick. Your eyes are pinched shut, lips parted ever so slightly, panting softly, a rosy flush coloring your cheeks. If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, of his words, the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be—you are shameless, he thinks, swallowing the guttural groan that escapes him. You moan when he puts his fingers in his mouth, feverishly licking them, tasting you.

He is eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole, he thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he runs back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. It is a slow, torturous process as your cunt stretches around him, accommodating his girth. Love is something he wants to nurture and grow, a connection that exists within each one of you—he has not missed a single one of your gestures, not one of the indications of your body and now it occurs to him that your eyes themselves have the color of love, they speak the language of both emotions and pleasure.

He breaks the intense eye contact to attack your neck, sucking and lightly biting on your weakest spot. Never have you been more aroused than, more needy as you continue to be relished by him by cock inside of you. "You are so bold sometimes. It's why I love you" he smiles against your hot skin, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find you. Whiny, stranded pleads leave your lips. His words are so sweet in comparison to the filthy trusts. His lips find yours as he feels you getting closer and he pushes you farther to the edge as he begins to fondle with your clit, your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, sending your body into a wave of pleasure. You clenching around him—shuddering against him, as an orgasm washes over his own body. Bucky lose himself in your eyes—in the vocabulary of them as the pleasure goes through your body. The words became unnecessary. He made you feel loved.

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (04/10)

Under the Moon

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: dreams and frustrations are shared, leading to a strange and unexpected but enjoyable connection with Aemond and more moments together at the pier.

words: 11k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hi everyone and I'm sorry for the wait! 🥺 I couldn't write this chapter, it took me a long time because it was difficult for me to develop certain scenes until finally I could finish it and I really hope you like it! 🙏🏻

remember that every comment and reblog is more than appreciated, thank you so much for reading beautiful people and enjoy the chapter!

warnings: none in this chapter.

The night is still young.

The sunlight has disappeared just a few minutes ago, letting the night sky in with the stars and the beautiful moon adorning the deep ocean with it's shimmering lights.

The smell of the salty air invades your lungs with every breath and the breeze gently hits your face, while the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is the only thing you can hear between you and Aemond.

Normally you don't usually come at such an early hour to the pier but... you couldn't help it. And meeting him here too at this hour was something you didn't think would happen.

Yet here you both are.

You feel the tension emanating from his body. You notice how he is completely rigid and takes several drags on his cigarette without giving them much time in between.

You don't know what has happened to him and that's why you asked him if he was sure he wanted you to stay. And even though he told you that you can stay, it doesn't mean that you should ask him what's going on with him... right?

You don't want to intrude and you don't want to make him feel more upset than he probably is. You're curious, in fact, you've been curious since the first time the two of you were here together.

Because you keep asking yourself; what kind of problems could he have? A Crown's guy?

Even though he has already told you that everything doesn't seem as perfect as it looks, you still find it hard to believe that. And you don't understand it because of all the people living at Crown's and specifically him they have no problems with money and never lack anything.

So you wonder what it could be and what it is that has him so stressed and upset.

That's not the only thing that invades your mind though. There's also the fact that the two of you exchanged glances at the party last night and he saw you mixing with the people on his side of town.

You have no idea what he's going to say to you about that. You don't even know if you're going to talk about it in the first place or if he wants to talk about anything in general.

So for the moment the only sound between the two of you is the sound of the waves.

Neither he nor you attempt to speak. You consider talking first as you watch him out of the corner of your eye but decide against it when you see him so serious and so lost in thought, staring off into the horizon.

And if that's what he wants now, peace and quiet just like you, you're not going to ruin it.

So you take a seat at the end of the pier as you kick off your sandals and slip your feet into the water, relaxing at the contact and more so with the view before you; starry sky and the moon reflecting in the deep ocean.

"So Stark is your friend."

He speaks suddenly, mixing the sound of his voice with the sound of the ocean and the atmosphere you both find yourselves in.

And him saying that gets your attention completely and you turn your body slightly to watch him while you're still sitting.

"Yes."

You reply, though nerves betray you, since after all... it seems that the two of you will indeed talk about that topic.

And as you watch him, again he has that look... indescribable.

You hate not knowing what he must be thinking, but he seems to be evaluating your answer. And you don't know if what he's going to say next will be an accusation or simple curiosity, so you decide to clarify that topic.

"My friend Chase works for his family," you begin to explain in a soft voice, "They both met and became friends, so one night Chase took him to a small reunion that my other friends and I were having at the beach on our side of town."

You say, remembering those moments.

"At first we all thought it would be temporary, after all... he's a rich guy from Crown's and his family is just as well known as yours, so we didn't think he would start hanging out with us."

You let out a slight sigh, looking out to where the ocean has no end.

"But it turns out he's simpler than he looks and... well... he likes to relax, hang out and be with a group of friends where nothing is demanded of him," you say, remembering his words, "With us he doesn't have to pretend or maintain the facade that most people at Crown's have to maintain."

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze for a moment.

"Or that's what he said."

You finish explaining and he doesn't say anything and honestly that starts to bother you.

You can tell he's a person who analyzes and evaluates people as well as words before he speaks, taking all the time necessary. But that's not a bad thing, what makes you desperate is that you don't know what he's probably thinking.

He has a way of doing things so... subtly and nonchalantly.

Then he turns his body towards you and leans his back against one of the wooden posts supporting the roof of the pier, having you completely on his radar of vision with the cigarette between his long, pale fingers.

He watches you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat and again, inevitably, you feel nervous.

"That explains it, then," he says softly, "Why you can so easily walk into Crown's and move among us."

You have to stifle a bitter laugh, since of course he thinks you're trying to pretend to be as one of them and that sounds totally ridiculous, even to you.

"It's not like I'm trying to pretend to be like one of you."

You say with a sincere tone, watching him seriously.

"Neither my cousin nor my friends or I do that. We're not from Crown's."

He tilts his head.

"Oh no?" he says in a soft but slightly expectant tone, "Then what were you all doing at the party last night if Cregan doesn't like being with his own kind?"

"The guys and I ask Cregan to get us in because sometimes they're the only way out of the everyday," you explain, "Those parties make us forget for a while who we really are and enjoy things we don't have access to, like... an escape. But it's not our life," you shake your head, "We don't belong there and we don't pretend we do, we just... want to have fun."

He listens to you and evaluates you silently, again, looking for some sign that disproves what you claim. But there is nothing, nor is there anything else to say, because it's the truth.

"But last night..." he begins to say, "I saw you and you seemed fine... and fitting right in. Even better than others."

This catches your attention and you tilt your head to the side, genuinely surprised and interested.

"You also seemed fine where you were and... with her... y-your girlfriend."

Your last words come out with difficulty, stumbling between your lips before you could stop them.

'Okay, now why did you decide to say that?'

You ask, or rather reproach yourself. But it's not like you can turn back time, he's already heard you and you... you don't know what to say to save or excuse your words.

But then you notice a change in him.

A subtle change passes over his face, almost imperceptible. He stirs for a second where he stands and throws the little that is left of his cigarette.

You notice again the tension in his body and for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon, hard and expressionless, shows a shadow of doubt that he does not want to show. However, the silence between you two fills with a slight awkwardness and a tension that you don't understand.

He tries not to let down that impenetrable wall around him, but it seems your words have made a crack and you bring that annoyance back to him.

'Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned his girlfriend?'

You're about to apologize but he speaks first.

"You know her?" he asks in a low, almost distant tone, still not watching you.

"The mean girl?" you ask without thinking but instantly regret it and panic invades your entire system, "Oh no, no, no, I mean... sorry. I-I didn't—

"It's okay," he interrupts you, with a disinterested calm that bewilders you.

This also gets your attention and confuses you but you already feel embarrassed enough because clearly you shouldn't refer to the girlfriend that way in front of her boyfriend, so... you try to think before you speak.

"I mean..." you clear your throat, "Floris Baratheon? Sure. Well, her whole family."

You try to lighten the mood.

"Although my cousin and I ran into her and her friends yesterday morning on the pier," you start to say, "Your sister was with them too, but... she wasn't present when she started making fun of us for not having money, being poor and all," you list with boredom, already being very common.

That especially gets his attention and for the first time in all the time the two of you have been here together, he glares at you with furrowed brows.

"She made fun of you?"

He asks you with a seriousness that instantly makes you feel nervous and intimidated. And of course, he's not going to believe you, she's his girlfriend.

"Well... n-no, I mean... surely she acts differently with you," you start to say nervously and without finding the right words to express yourself, "Surely she must be very kind and nice... but... with you and her people, you know what I mean?"

He looks at you confused, not understanding, narrowing his eye at you and you can't find a way not to make his girlfriend look bad.

"It's just that..." you get frustrated, shaking your head, "Look... huh... she's your girlfriend and I don't want you to think that what I'm telling you are lies, so—

"I don't think that," he interrupts you, this time with an honesty that takes you by surprise. "I believe you."

You look at him uncertain.

"Really?"

He doesn't respond, just nods his head as he turns around and rests both arms on the wooden railing. He runs a hand over his face and in the process, messes up his silver hair, letting a few strands fall messily over his forehead.

"I've heard stories," he says then, without looking at you, "Apparently... she finds it funny to make fun of those who aren't of her own status... like other people I know."

He says with some bitterness.

"But when she's with me or my family... she acts completely different. And it's a little hard to believe when my mother or father hears those rumors but....

He shakes his head in disdain.

"Cregan is right, it's all appearance. It always is."

You remain silent, letting his words echo in the air.

The revelation about Floris stuns you, not because you wouldn't have guessed it, but because he, being her boyfriend and close to her, acknowledges it with such bitterness.

And there is something in his words and in his posture, which makes you realize that he is no stranger to such falsehood and you wonder... maybe he thinks just like Cregan and is caught up in appearances and perfection, just like him?

Still, you remain genuinely confused, with a question you can't help but ask him.

"But... don't you love her?"

The little laugh he lets out catches your attention and you see him shake his head, as if the idea is something absurd and impossible to be, which leaves you more confused.

"It's not what it seems. Our relationship... it's not genuine."

You frown and look at him blankly, feeling foolish for not doing so but... you really don't understand.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't say anything to you, just lets out a low sigh and bites the inside of his cheek, knowing perfectly well that he can't talk to you about it because it might be a bad idea.

He doesn't know you, you don't know him and these are... delicate, important issues that should be kept in the family.

It doesn't matter if are issues that consume him and suffocate him, he has to bear it and deal with it because that's the way things are in his family, and period, there's nothing he can do or say about it.

And you notice that. The hesitation and the distrust, because both you and he understand that he shouldn't trust you, a poor girl from Black Waves, with anything.

But you know when a person is drowning.

You see it in the look and the way they move. You saw it in Cregan when he first joined the group, all your friends saw it and Aemond... you can see that the surface is about to overtake him.

And yet he has to put up with that, for whatever he owes his family and you understand that. You are no one to force or try to convince him to talk to you.

"I understand that you don't want to talk about it with me."

You begin to tell him in a soft tone.

"And I also know that I'm no one to make you share your ideas or concerns with me because I wouldn't understand. Even right now I have a hard time understanding that someone like you, who has everything, would have problems, you know?"

You tell him with a small incredulous smile and a wry look.

"But that's just my ignorance because I really don't know anything," you say in acceptance, "And... I really hope you find that person you can talk to and get it off your chest," you tell him in the most honest way possible.

Then, again, it's as if something inside him changes but this time... it breaks.

You notice that subtle change, in how his shoulders that always seem tense, as if carrying the weight of the whole world, drop a little and his breathing becomes heavier and slower.

And you don't know it but something in him is falling apart, the moment you told him that you find it hard to understand that he, who has everything, has problems.

But that is the image that his family has always reflected. That is the image that his father has put on him and all his children for all people to see. A perfect family, him being the perfect, flawless son.

And it's so much weight, the reality and your words, that he finally reacts.

"My whole life is an obligation."

He speaks with a hardness in his voice, not watching you and you watch him intently at the moment he begins to speak.

"For as long as I can remember, my whole life has been planned, with no say or decision for me. Because my decisions were never mine, they are my father's and my mother's who is always supporting him, trying to find the good side in everything," he says bitterly, "The two of them deciding between my hobbies, my friendship's, my relationship's, my studies and my future, no matter what I want or what I feel."

You are surprised by the harshness and ease with which he speaks, not yet looking at you, but finally expressing himself and venting, letting out all that he has been enduring and must endure.

"And Floris is that... a decision I didn't make or I want to make," he says seriously, "It... it was never... never a matter of love, the two of us..." he sighs, "The two of us are nothing more than a convenience. A piece on my father's board."

You part your lips and watch him confused but with realization, trying to see if what you're hearing is what you think it is.

"He, my grandfather and his entire team are always looking for alliances and partnerships for the company. Ways to strengthen our connections with other families that are advantageous and Floris... is that."

He motions with his hand and still with the bitterness is all over his face.

"Is that link between his father and mine through me, as if I... have no judgment of my own and even if I do, that doesn't matter to him because I must do what he asks me to do with family in mind, because that's the only justification."

And then... he starts talking without stopping, expressing himself fully while you just stand there, silent, watching and just listening.

"Just as I must study a fucking degree I don't want and don't like," he onfesses, "But I must do it to keep the company someday because Aegon will never do it, my father is already angry enough at him, Helaena won't do it either, Daeron is still young and someone must do it, then that someone must be me."

H points to himself harshly and bitterly, anger in his voice.

"But I do it so the fucking fights in my house don't happen anymore and so my father doesn't end up hating us completely."

He takes a breath and puts on a bitter smile, looking up at the sky for a second, shaking his head.

"But it's not even worth it, you know?" he tells you in a lower, calmer tone, "That's the worst of it, my dad... he's not worth it," he shakes his head, "I don't owe him shit."

He runs a hand through his hair again, as he stares out at the ocean and bites his lower lip with anger coursing through his veins.

"He didn't even notice me since I was a kid until I told him I was going to study business to take over the company. And yet, I have to put up with it for my mother and my siblings... because I don't want my family to explode."

Silence falls between you again, but this time it's not awkward or tense.

His confession leaves you stunned, because you definitely didn't expect to hear any of this. Not even about his father and his family. And he's... still tense, with his jaw clenched and his gaze furrowed in anger.

It's like he's blowing smoke out of his body, from all that resentment and all that anger not only at his father, but also at himself, at the crushing expectations that have haunted him his whole life.

But, in some strange way, he finds himself with one less weight on his shoulders for finally venting.

And you can't believe it.

Maybe you've been so ignorant and you've seen so many movies and read so many love stories that you think... if you're with someone in a relationship, especially people your age, it's because you must both love each other.

And that's what you thought of him and Floris, two rich parents' children who have a bright future together. But now, everything you had assumed about them falls apart.

And how come you didn't see it coming?

You mean, all of them, all these men are rich and they reinforce that power with richer people with their alliances, whether it's of any kind, but the point is to relate to people who are equally or more wealthy and to keep them.

And now that Aemond has entrusted you with this, it makes sense.

And you can't be blamed for not having thought about it before, summer has barely begun, you're enjoying it, you're also working and certainly these ideas don't cross your mind when you're poor and have nothing to do with this world.

So you finish processing everything he has said in silence, realizing that he has shared more with you than he has probably shared with anyone in a long time.

You realize how important this moment is, even if you don't know exactly what to say.

Then Aemond reacts again and finally looks at you, letting out a long sigh as he closes his eye and runs a hand over his face again.

"I spoke too much," he says in a low tone.

And then you react too.

"No, no," you quickly say, "I-I..." you lick your lips, having no idea if what you'll say is good or bad, because you really don't know what to say, "I'm relieved you got it off your chest with me."

He shakes his head as he places a hand on his chin, looking off into the horizon.

"That's not even half of what's going on."

You press your lips together, getting an idea of what it might be about now that he's told you about it. And you let out a long sigh, still processing it and keeping in mind that he should let it all out.

"So it's all about your father and his business," you say softly.

And he nods, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. And you notice the mixture of weariness and disdain he finally shows on his face now that he's told you about the situation he's trapped in.

"My father has worked for years to secure his empire and his legacy," he says with a certain heavy tone, "And by partnering with Borros Baratheon, he strengthens and elevates his entire business."

He explains briefly.

"For him, this is an opportunity he cannot pass up and my relationship with Floris will make that partnership happen."

'Of course.'

You think with obviousness and bitterness reflecting on your face, as you briefly shake your head.

You're not even Floris but you just can't help but put yourself in her shoes, even though you don't like her and consider her a horrible person.

But if you were her.... you really wouldn't want to be in a relationship like that. Much less a relationship where all the time you are showing off in front of people when the harsh reality is otherwise.

"And does she know?" you ask quietly and cautiously, "Floris?"

To your surprise, he nods. And you don't know if that makes it all worse.

"She must have an idea about it," he replies in a more distant tone, "Maybe she doesn't quite admit it, but... no one can be so blind as not to notice."

You feel a knot form in your chest and can't help but watch him with a mixture of pity and understanding.

And he looks back at you for a second, so you try to keep a neutral face instantly, and then he continues talking with a frustrated look on his face, venting.

"And somehow, she thinks that can change. That she can try to make us both have something real, but..." he shakes his head, his tone turning sour, "From the beginning I didn't want to do any of this. It wasn't my decision because she doesn't interest me in that way."

He confesses and you listen to him with full attention.

"And it feels bad... it feels bad to see her trying to change that knowing the reality of things. And then I feel guilty..." he points to himself, "For not being able to reciprocate her feelings when I see her trying to do something that's not going to work."

And once again, you can't help but feel bad for Floris as the silence falls again between the two of you.

You remain silent, because you absorb his words. As these same words hang in the air, but at the same time, you feel that something important has been shared.

He sighs, as if the breeze could carry some of his burden away and the sound of the ocean enveloping him could protect him. He has let his guard down.

He has shown a part of himself that he probably won't show anyone else.

And while you don't fully understand what he's going through, you understand his words and how everything is defined by duty and by the expectations others have of him.

And in some ways, that hurts you for him. And those expectations and the weight of duty are too strong to go away so easily.

"And you haven't tried to...like .... really give her a chance?"

He shakes his head again.

"It's hard when the people around you let you know the real person she is," he says in a distant tone.

You let out a long breath, looking away from him for a moment, and then with smooth, nonchalant movements, you pull your feet out of the water, shake them off and stand up from where you are sitting.

You're not sure what you're doing, but you decide to approach him, even if it's just a little to make him feel that he's not alone.

Even so, you do it calmly and without very aggressive movements, since you don't want to scare him or make him feel that you are invading his space. And you place yourself next to him, also leaning on the wooden railing just like him.

You glance sideways at him for a moment before turning your gaze back to the horizon.

"And what do you really want?" you ask softly and with genuine curiosity.

He turns his head slightly towards you and notices your closeness, which, fortunately and surprisingly, doesn't scare him, since strangely, your presence... doesn't seem uncomfortable nor does it bother him.

Maybe it is the way you are listening to him, really listening to him and offering him a space where he can express himself without being judged, without expectations and without objections, that makes him not back down, stay and open up, even a little, for the first time in a long time.

But your question, makes that doubt appear on his face again for a moment, turning his gaze forward, feeling a little insecure behind his firm and controlled facade.

It's been a long time since he's been asked that question. In fact... he's never been asked it. And he doesn't know how to answer it.

"It's not about what I really want, Y/N. It's about what's expected of me."

You shake your head.

"But that's not fair, Aemond."

"In my life rarely anything is."

"But then what do you really want?" you ask again, your tone insistent and firmer, "Forget about your father and your whole family for a second," you say, "What I'm asking you right now, here, with no one around, just you and me... what do you really want in your life, Aemond?"

Your words float in the air and the silence that follows is deep, almost palpable.

You watch as he closes his eye for a moment, as if searching deep within himself for an answer he has buried beneath layers of other people's expectations. And when he wants to say something, he opens his mouth, but then stops, hesitant, unsure.

Yet he has the answer.

Until he lets out a sigh and for the first time looks directly at you, his expression softer, almost vulnerable, but not completely, just... a sincere expression.

And as if he's preparing to say something he hadn't allowed himself to say out loud before.

"I want to go to medical school in Oldtown," he finally says quietly but with a firmness he hadn't had before, "That's what I really want."

And you can't help but place a small but soft smile in his direction, relieved that he's finally talking it out.

"I've always been interested in it. I've always wanted... to do something meaningful, something that really matters. Not just for me, but for other people."

He admits, his tone vulnerable but determined.

"But...I've never told anyone, much less my dad. Because I know he'll never care and probably just laugh about it."

He pauses for a moment, as his mind seems to wander between memories and frustrations built up over the years.

"I don't want to do anything he tells me," he continues, his jaw tense. "I don't want to be with Floris. She... I don't know, she deserves someone else," he says with a shrug, "And I just... I want peace and freedom to be myself."

He confesses.

"I want to be able to choose my own path and live without feeling like I'm letting everyone around me down, that..." he sighs, "That's all I want."

You feel the strength and longing in his words. You're so engrossed in listening to him and watching him that you barely notice that the two of you are getting closer and closer.

And you don't really know him, clearly for obvious reasons, but you know that this Aemond Targaryen right now is different. He is not the man who always seems to be in control of everything.

No, the Aemond in front of you is someone who just wants to be free.

He looks back at you and you see that silent wish that he wants so badly to come true. And he may not tell you directly, but in that moment he realizes that this is what he has been looking for, unconsciously, someone who will listen to him, understand him, and stand by his side without judgment.

"And I know it sounds stupid," he mutters, averting his gaze, "It's impossible. But... yeah, that's what I want."

You press your lips together.

"Don't say that. It's not stupid," you assure him in a soft tone, "It's your dreams. Your true aspirations. And no one has any right to take that away from you. Not even your father."

The silence that follows your words is soft but heavy at the same time. You both stand still, absorbing the weight of the words you have just spoken.

You because you understand that no one should make less of your feelings or thoughts and Aemond because no one had really said those words to him before.

But also, he feels the tension in his shoulders return and he suddenly feels so vulnerable and exposed, something he's not at all used to and all because he trusted you with something intimate about him and his family.

He shifts slightly where he stands, uncomfortable, and you notice this, how his expression gradually closes, slowly turning back to his usual hard, impenetrable mask.

Then you understand that perhaps he is worried that you have seen his weakness, something no one else has seen. But what he's shared with you doesn't make you feel a kind of power over him now, at all.

So you decide to do something genuine too: share with him.

You take a deep breath, not because you're hesitating, but because talking about your past always brings a slight pressure to your chest, but you really want to do it.

"You know..." you begin in a soft tone, "I understand what it's like to have a dream... something you love deeply and want to achieve, even if circumstances aren't always on your side."

Aemond turns to you, his blue-gray eye catching your gaze.

"I've always wanted to study Literature," you confess with a small smile, "Writing, reading... I've always been passionate about it. And while I know it may seem impractical to many, my mom always supported me. She believed in me and believed that one day I could work in a big publishing house and maybe, even publish something of my own."

A small nostalgic smile forms on your lips as you look out over the ocean and remember those conversations you had with her, those days talking about books, characters and imaginary worlds.

Then you turn your gaze back to him and realize that he is actually listening to you, watching you intently, which gives you courage to continue.

"My dad couldn't make it to that stage of my life," you add later and bite your lips for a few moments, "He died when I was little from cancer."

You are surprised at yourself, as you have never been able to say those words before. And if you did, you would burst into tears, but in this moment... surprisingly you don't break down.

"He was everything to us and when he left... well, everything changed and things got a little difficult," you continue, "My mom did everything she could until we moved here because she could no longer maintain us in Nevada and my aunt and uncle took us in."

You pause for breath, feeling the emotion building up in your throat, but you manage to remain calm. And Aemond continues to listen to you attentively, without interrupting and with his posture again relaxed.

"Until a year ago, my mom also became ill with lung disease," you continue finally, watching the horizon, "We all did everything we could but she also passed away."

You are silent for a moment, feeling the weight of your words in the air.

You think about how you hadn't talked about this with many people, and you certainly didn't think you would with someone like Aemond. But now, here, with him listening to you in the same way you listened to him, you feel that maybe it was something you needed to share.

He doesn't say anything at first, but you see the slight gleam of compassion in his eye.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs sincerely.

You take a deep breath and nod, though you try not to let the sadness wash over you completely. You don't want the moment to become too dark.

"I'm fine," you reply softly, "Despite everything that's happened, I haven't stopped wanting to study Literature or work hard to achieve that someday."

You look up at him, finding his attention fixed on you.

"And you can do the same, Aemond," you add softly. "I know it's not easy. I know your situation is... complicated and that your father is... a dick," you joke a little, though it's the truth, "But there's always a way out. You may not see it now, but it exists. You just have to find it and you have to fight for it."

Aemond watches you silently for a moment, processing what you just said. His eyes soften slightly and you look at him with a warm, reassuring gaze, assuring him of your words.

Then, you feel as if something changes between you two.

Both have shared something important, something that has allowed them to understand each other better and to unburden themselves in their own way. And you both stand there, thoughtful, looking at the horizon with the sea wind blowing softly.

You feel a little less weight on your shoulders. And maybe, just maybe, Aemond feels the same way too.

"Thank you for listening to me," he says, in a soft murmur, watching you, "I really appreciate it."

A small smile settles on your lips and you watch him with all the sincerity in your eyes.

"I know we don't know each other but you don't have to face all this alone," you say then nod in his direction, "So I'll be here if you need me."

And you both stand there, sharing a moment of peace that neither of you had anticipated, just like the first time you both met on this pier.

A rich guy from Crown's and a poor girl from Black Waves, neither you nor he would have imagined it, but here you are... it's a reality and a relief at the same time.

And the feeling of regret doesn't come at any time.

You assume you've both already let out what you wanted, so after you both stay in that comforting silence for a few more moments, and then you watch the time on your screen and let out a long breath.

"I don't want to get emotional..." you start to say, breaking the silence, "But you do know that we both have to go back to our respective worlds and pretend we don't know each other, right?"

He can't help but smile a little, understanding exactly what you mean and can't help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment, as do you.

"Yeah, I'm aware," he tells you softly, watching you.

You observe him with a resigned look, without erasing the small smile on your lips.

"Here," you point to his pocket with your gaze, "I'll give you my number."

That gets his attention and he turns to stand before you, reaching into his pocket.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?" you joke, smiling, "Come on, it's no big deal."

He takes it, unlocks it in a quick gesture and holds it out to you, to which you take it and... you don't know what to do for a moment.

Sure enough, it's an IPhone, the kind of phone that only rich people like him can afford because of it's high price. While you look at it and feel sorry for your old phone of a different model and that the touch is barely functional due to the time you've had it.

"Whatever you need, within my possibilities..." you say as you add yourself to his contacts, "Or if you need to talk, about anything, just text or call me."

You extend it back to him and watch him, as he's already watching you and picks up his phone, putting it back in his pocket, having no idea what to say for a moment.

"Okay," he murmurs, his voice low but clear.

You nod again, saying nothing more, with reality starting to get to you. So you clear your throat softly and let out a sigh.

"Well, I... I should be going now," you say, "I have to work early tomorrow."

Aemond's expression changes for an instant, not expecting you to leave so soon. And he straightens up completely, pulling his arms away from the railing.

"I can drive you home," he offers suddenly, not even him thinking before he speaks, but wanting to.

And that takes you by surprise for a moment, but then you shake your head.

"No, no, that's okay," you reply, "Thanks but I don't want to bother you."

He frowns.

"It's no bother," he insists more gently, "I can drive you, really."

You look out over the horizon for a moment, feeling the cool ocean air caress your face. And you really appreciate the offer but he needs to stay here.

After all he shared with you, he needs to still feel this peace and quiet of the place.

“No, thank you, you…” you try not to look rude, ”You need to stay here. You need it,” you tell him, "It will do you good, trust me," you assure him, ‘I'll see you another time."

You wave goodbye as you turn away, with a slight smile.

"Take care."

He watches you as you walk away, your soft but firm footsteps echoing lightly against the wood. The feeling of this summer night envelops you both, but both of you also feel this sense of something incomplete but meaningful between the two of you.

You think that for the first time, you realize that Aemond Targaryen, even where he comes from, all that he has and all that he will have in the future, he is not so different from you.

And he doesn't tell you that, in fact he hadn't thought or felt it before but now, as you slowly disappear from his sight, he realizes he is glad that you appeared on the pier almost at the same time as he did.

“Remind me why we have to do this.”

Alysanne's annoyed and upset voice makes you watch her and you smile in amusement as you watch her struggle with the buttons on her work shirt.

“Because we need the money to help your parents,” you say, brushing back your hair, “We also need to be able to buy our own things and also because we need to save up to go to college.”

These are valid enough reasons for both of you, but you both can't help but complain.

“I hate Mr. Frey, I hate him so much,” she mumbles.

“Think about the money, Aly.”

“That doesn't make me hate him any less. I haven't even been able to enjoy the summer like I'd really like to.”

Well, that's true, this summer has started out different and not how you both planned, but there's nothing you can do about it.

“And speaking of that…” she again says, “There's a party tonight. At Sunsets Pier. I think the Stark's and the Arryn's set it all up or something like that Cregan said but the point is, everyone can go.”

“Ugh, no,” you quickly say, making a face, “I've been to enough parties in such a short time.”

“What are you talking about!” she exclaims to you incredulously, ”There will be free food and drinks, live music and lamp shows or something.”

“They do the lamp show almost all the time,” you remind her without emotion.

“But everything else is free!”

You let out a long breath.

“I'm not in the mood to go. Especially not when I have to endure Mr. Frey most of the day and we only get one day off from him and his exploitative job.”

“Ugh, you're so boring,” she scowls at you as she watches you through the mirror and finishes fixing her shirt.

You make sure your keys, wallet and phone are in your small bag, then stare at the screen.

“Okay, time to go or we'll be late,” you let her know.

She lets out a whimper.

“I don't want to work anymore,” she whines like a little girl.

A few minutes later, you both arrive at the restaurant on time and immediately get to work, with Mr. Frey's eyes watching your every move like a killer gargoyle ready to jump at the slightest mistake.

And both you and Alysanne do the same as always.

Take the order, bring the food, clear tables as soon as they are empty, reorganize, clean up again, bring the customers anything they ask for in case they are missing, be available to them at all times and in some cases charge them.

And while you do everything automatically, totally used to it after a while, in the middle of it all you can't help but get lost in your thoughts and think about him.

It makes sense when it hasn't even been twenty-four hours, but… you really can't help it and you can't get him out of your mind. The way he talked to you about his frustrations, shared with you his dreams, his longings and the way he paid attention to you too… his look, his eyes… it all invades your mind.

And foolishly, you can't help but wonder if he's thinking about it too… about you. Although you just wish you weren't the only one feeling this way.

You also wonder when you'll see him again, but the thought of imagining it, thrills you, makes your heart race and makes you realize you want that to happen soon, which you never imagined such a feeling you could feel for Aemond Targaryen himself, of all people.

But then the restaurant gets more crowded as the evening goes on and you have to be more attentive and active.

You and Alysanne move back and forth, keeping busy with everything you have to do, even with Mr. Frey making sure neither of you slows down for a second, being so annoying.

And then, as you're finishing clearing a table, the sound of the doors of the place opening makes you watch the new customers almost automatically and your question of when you'll see Aemond again is answered in that instant.

Your heart stops for a second and you see him, entering the restaurant, joined by his family, the Targaryens.

You immediately recognize Alicent Hightower from all the magazine covers where she has appeared with her husband, always so elegant and majestic.

And where Mr. Frey, upon seeing her, attends to her himself with all the kindness and cordiality possible, allowing her to enter his restaurant as if she were the most important person in the whole world.

Next to her, you identify Helaena, which is not impossible because of her delicate and beautiful appearance, besides her silver hair, of course. With them also comes the youngest of the siblings, Daeron.

And at the end is him.

With his firm posture and the same serious, impenetrable look as always, he scans the whole place without much importance, when his gaze meets yours.

You again feel your heart skip a beat and trying to look busy, you instantly avert your gaze, pretending to be busy with something at the cash register.

You try to focus, but now that he has also seen you and now knows where exactly you work, it causes a wave of nerves to wash over you and your hands begin to tremble slightly, especially since you feel his gaze on you.

Luckily, they choose a table on the terrace, with a view of the sea, so the only thing that separates you are the large windows and the glass doors, although he can easily see you through them and you can easily see him too.

And it's a strange feeling to have him there, so close, in the same space, but behaving as if you don't know him.

Fortunately, it's Mr. Frey himself who takes their order and then it's Alysanne's turn to bring them the food, so you breathe a sigh of relief and stop feeling a little tense.

Time goes by and you can't help it, while you do your job, you watch his family and him out of the corner of your eye.

Mrs. Alicent has such a natural and perfect elegance and demeanor, looking even kind. Helaena seems more oblivious to everything, but you also notice that she is very close to her mother. While Daeron is more carefree and Aemond… he doesn't talk much but he looks more relaxed.

Even watching him here in the restaurant, he also maintains that hard-to-read expression.

What he shared with you last night is still fresh in your mind and you can't help but wonder how he is able to maintain that facade under constant family pressure.

You finish delivering the food to one of the tables that is, not close to his but not too far away either and then, out of inertia, you go back to watching him and he is already watching you.

Nervous, but with a blank stare, you look away again.

You both act as if you don't know each other, as if last night on the pier never happened. And though it hurts a little, you know it's the right thing to do.

Here, in the crowd and in front of everyone's eyes, especially those of his family, there's no room for that connection the two of you had last night.

Then minutes pass, then an hour and they're gone.

It makes no difference though, as you continue to work, keeping busy and distracted. Alysanne in a few small breaks tries to convince you to go to the party at the pier but you continue to refuse, as apparently the customers are also talking about that.

But you don't have the courage or the energy to be among a lot of people.

Finally, after the long hours have passed, both of you finish your shift and it's time to go home.

Clearly neither of you are allowed to use your phones during your shift, so when you hold it in your hands and turn on the screen, the first thing you see is a message from an unknown number.

But you instantly recognize who it is and a silly little smile appears on your lips as you read the message: Tonight?

You see the time and realize that he sent it to you at the time when he was at the restaurant, so you quickly reply without thinking: I'll be there.

You knew that if you told Alysanne that you were going to the pier now not so forbidden, she would kill you.

First she would start complaining and demanding you to know why you want to go to the pier and not to the party with her.

And you don't want to tell her yet about everything that's been happening with Aemond because even you don't know.

So you preferred to save yourself the nagging and all the questions, you also wait for her to leave and once she does, you also leave the house.

So now once again you have successfully managed to jump over the wall and you head towards the pier, where in the distance you can see the figure of Aemond at the end, with the smoke of his typical cigarette floating around him, looking towards the horizon.

Once again you can't help but start to feel excited and a little nervous, having no idea what the two of you will be talking about tonight, but you assume he just wants some company and honestly you want that too.

So feeling more confident, you start to walk onto the pier, with all the anticipation and excitement coursing through your body, unable to help the small smile on your lips.

"Hey, stranger."

You speak when he's a few feet away from you and he turns, incorporating his whole body to watch you and when he does, a confused little smile appears on his lips.

"Stranger?"

"Yeah, you know, because we have to pretend in front of everyone that we don't know each other," you say with an amused smile, positioning yourself next to him, "I brought marshmallows," you raise the bag in your hands.

He throws his cigarette away, frowning.

"Marshmallows?"

"Yeah, I... I don't know, I thought if you want, we can go to the beach and have a bonfire and eat these," you suggest, "But only if you want," you hasten to add.

Aemond stays quiet, watching your face and then the bag of marshmallows in your hands, watching as you have a slight hope that he'll say yes.

And it makes him feel a little weird since he's never done that before. Not even with Helaena.

But... that you planned this when he was the one who asked you to come without having any plans in mind other than the two of you sitting here and watch the ocean, it surprises him because as simple as the idea is, it's something out of the ordinary for him.

And because of that, it's why he doesn't reject the plan and nods in your direction.

"Let's do it."

You both walk back to the beach, where you don't stray far from the pier actually, and he leads you to a section where his family has firewood, so you both start carrying it to the shore to make the bonfire.

And actually, for a few moments, neither of you talk about anything. It's just both of you being in each other's company, not at all awkward and not at all weird.

Then you look further out, specifically in the direction of Sunset's Pier. It's not like this upscale section of Crown's is too far from the downtown pier, as you can see the decorative lights and people moving around from here.

"You know about the party going on right now at Sunset's Pier?" you decide to ask Aemond, as the two of you finish stacking all the firewood at the specific spot.

He shakes his hands and squats down as you take a seat on a trunk, then look out at the pier and all those people in the distance.

"Yeah," he replies in a soft tone, "My brother was trying to convince me all day to go with him and his friends," he says and then pulls out his lighter.

"My cousin too," you say, watching as he begins to light a section on fire, then watching him slightly confused, "Why didn't you want to go with him?"

He seems to think about it for a moment as the fire begins to spread all over the kindling, then looks at you with a soft gaze.

"I wanted to come here."

You watch him back for a few seconds without saying anything, and then he turns his gaze back to the fire, while you have the bag of marshmallows ready to open it in your lap.

“And you, why didn't you want to go with your cousin?” he decides to ask you too.

“Hum…” you shake your head as you take the sticks to roast the marshmallows and start preparing them, “I didn't feel like it. Besides… working at the restaurant already sucks enough energy out of me.”

Oh no.

You didn't want to talk about what happened at the restaurant and yet you brought up the subject. Mostly because you feel embarrassed and you don't even know why.

And he lets out a slight sound, a small nod of understanding as he watches the fire, his gaze getting lost in the flames.

“That was weird, huh?”

You watch him without saying anything for a few seconds, frowning slightly at him and thinking about it, since you don't know exactly what he's referring to, but he speaks again.

“Pretending not to know you,” he explains and your gaze softens, ”It was weird after last night.”

You look away from him for a moment as the wind gently blows your hair and the breeze hits your whole face.

“Yeah,” you admit, ‘It was a little weird,’ you say as you hold out his stick with the marshmallow, ”I didn't think you'd show up there, to be honest.”

He takes the stick and gets up to take a seat next to you on the trunk once the bonfire is finally fully lit.

“I didn't think you'd work there either,” he says and along with you, places the marshmallow on the fire, "I even wanted to say hi to you but…" he shrugs as you listen carefully, ”I don't know, maybe it would have been weird or something.”

You nod, as you both wait for the marshmallow to be ready.

“Yeah, I get it.”

The bonfire crackles, with the sound of the ocean enveloping you, and you both stand for a moment in silence, enjoying the marshmallows and the simple company of each other.

You enjoy his company and he enjoys yours, especially since with you he doesn't have to talk about anything specific. And everything is just quieter and simpler… just the way he prefers it.

So you both stay there, in this quiet corner by the seashore, it couldn't be more perfect and necessary, with the distant and barely audible echo of the music and the party on the pier.

When he breaks the silence again, watching you curiously.

“What's it like working at the restaurant?”

“Oh,” you think about it for a moment, not expecting that question but having no problem answering, "Well, do you want the short version or the long version?" you joke.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips.

“Either is fine.”

“It's just that let's just say that if it weren't for the need to save and buy my own things, I would have quit a long time ago.”

You explain, making yourself comfortable and he listens attentively beside you.

“My boss, Mr. Frey is… hum…” you also think about it for a moment, “Well, there's no other way to put it but he's a dick. I have to put up with his poor treatment without complaining and watch as he always makes sure everyone knows he's in control.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” he says wryly and you smile.

“Yes, he is, believe me,” you reply sarcastically, “But you know… sometimes there's no choice but to bear it out of necessity.”

You know…

Aemond blinks and your words are left bouncing around in his mind.

No. The truth is, he doesn't. He's never had the need to work.Because while you face the demands of a despot boss, he lives in a world of privilege and comfort, used to people doing everything for him.

But somehow he understands what you mean. The two may have different lifestyles but you both understand each other.

You both watch the flames in silence, in a comfortable silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the sound of the waves, just as the mingled smell of burnt marshmallows reaches your nostrils along with the salty air.

And then, suddenly, you have an idea.

You put on a small smile and that spark of spontaneity appears in your whole being, as well as that impulse, so you stand up and Aemond next to you looks at you curiously.

“Shall we go for a swim?” you ask casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world in the middle of the night.

“What?” he looks at you clearly bewildered.

“Come on,” you insist, giving him a playful smile, “Let's go swimming.”

He shakes his head, looking out at the ocean a few feet away from the two of you to look back at you.

“You want to go swimming right now in the ocean at night?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, ”I've done it before.”

“Don't you know how dangerous that is?”

“Oh come on, it's not a big deal and we won't go far,” you try to convince him.

“These are the only clothes I have,” he points to himself.

“Me too,” you say with a laugh as you start to take off your tennis shoes, determined, “Just leave them here, come on, it'll be fun.”

He looks at you as if you've just lost your mind, doubtful, but there's something about your enthusiasm that's contagious, something that invites him to leave his inhibitions behind.

And when he least expects it, you're already heading for the shore, stripping off your clothes. Then he finally sighs and stands up, taking off his shirt.

You laugh excitedly as he joins in and you leave your clothes on the sand, stepping into the ocean. The water is cold at first contact, but not too much. So you jump in in one motion, only to turn around and look at Aemond.

“Come on!” you encourage him.

“This is a bad idea!” he tells you from where he stands, stepping in with slow, cautious movements.

You laugh and encourage him again, moving your arms and hands, letting the salty water envelop you completely.

Then, as he sees you, slowly that wariness inside him fades and with more liberal movements, he moves to your side and you begin to splash him, laughing, causing him to let go and stop thinking for a moment.

He starts splashing you too and then you realize that it is such an out of place moment and so unlike anything you had imagined you could do with him, but at the same time it feels so natural and almost liberating.

And Aemond, he lets himself be carried by the waves, because even though the darkness of the ocean can be intimidating, he feels a kind of peace that he didn't expect to find here.

“See?” you observe him with a small smile, ”It's liberating.”

He floats on the water, gazing for a moment out beyond the ocean and then the Sunset's pier in the distance with a soft, thoughtful look.

“Yeah,” he says as if in a whisper, acknowledging that.

You hang suspended in the water, watching him for a moment, unable to help yourself.

The moonlight bathes his face, highlighting his features and his slightly damp silver hair. You also see how the muscles in his shoulders relax with each breath and the sensation of the water, also looking at his bare chest and his skin glowing from the light and the water, giving him a crystalline and totally captivating effect.

The silver chain he wears around his bare neck also catches your attention, shimmering slightly with every movement.

His eyes, his lips, his nose, his look…. in all of him there is something primal and irresistible that makes you can't stop looking at him and your thoughts begin to dissipate uncontrollably.

Then he looks back at you and you try to look unaffected, as if you don't have a lump in your throat and this feeling in your stomach, smiling softly in his direction and then looking around, trying to control your thoughts.

'He has a girlfriend, remember?'

Your mind tells you too.

'It's not a real relationship, though.'

Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to convince him to swim when the man looks like this.

He tells you to swim some more and you both let the salty water envelop your bodies, with the full, bright moon above, illuminating the surface and creating a silvery path stretching to the horizon.

You also watch the stars, twinkling above you both, creating a celestial spectacle.

The water begins to feel warm, like a gentle caress on your skin. And as you swim together, you can feel her skin brush against yours, both of you not straying far from each other.

Until again you both hover and your gaze meets his, both the moonlight bathing your face and his, creating shadows and contours that accentuate features.

“This is nice,” he tells you, in a low murmur.

“Yeah, I know.”

His eyes are still on you, beyond simple observation.

There's something else, an intensity you can't help but feel. Aemond is not the kind of person to leave his thoughts out in the open for all to see because he is reserved, cautious.

But now, he seems to be letting a part of himself be seen, as if for once he's lowering his defenses… being with you.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, interrupted only by the soft splashing you both make in the water and the murmur of the waves.

You allow yourself to lose yourself in the depth of his eyes, in that intense blue-gray. And you can't help but let your mind wander to the slight closeness of his body to yours.

The softness of his voice and the way he looks at you… it hypnotizes you and makes you think something might be.

When then, you jump unexpectedly and startled where you find yourself floating, looking down at the surface of the dark water as if you can see through it, breaking the magical moment.

“Oh no, no, wait, something touched my foot!” you exclaim in panic.

“What?” he quickly says to you, his face showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Ew! I don't know but it felt… gross,” you babble, shaking your legs in the water as if you can push away whatever it was that touched you.

“Hey, hey,” he says, moving closer to you, his voice low but comforting, ”Easy.”

“I think we should go back,” you look at the shore and then at him worriedly.

But Aemond doesn't look frightened or perturbed, just serene. And he moves even closer, his hand reaching for yours underwater.

“Easy, easy,” he murmurs, his voice soft but sure as his arm goes around your waist, pulling you to him, ”I've got you.”

The strength and security with which he holds you seems to anchor you to reality, and without hesitation, you instinctively place your feet around his torso and your arms around his neck as you cling to him, feeling his firm body hold you completely.

Aemond looks at you, his eyes serious but with a soft glow, as if the distance between you had never existed.

”I've got you,” he repeats, this time in a lower whisper, his breath caressing your cheek as his hands hold you firmly, but at the same time gently.

You watch him with parted lips, as the water continues to gently sway around you, but it's as if everything has stopped, except for the racing beat of your heart and the warmth of the touch of his skin against yours.

And just like that, whatever it was that scared you no longer matters to you anymore the moment the foreheads of the two of you brush and slowly draw closer together.

Now you're both breathing hard, but it's not from the effort of swimming, it's the closeness. And it shows in the gentle press of each other's foreheads, in the way the breaths mix in the night, in the way their lips are dangerously close.

Neither of the two of you knows exactly what it is that you're doing and why, but it's inevitable. Something in the air, the magic of the night, the intimacy of the moment… it all leads you to this point.

You watch his lips, desiring it, and Aemond watches yours too, and then you both look into each other's eyes again, so close.

And then it happens.

Slowly, almost as if both of you are afraid to break the charm of the moment, your lips connect with his. At first it is a soft touch, barely a touch, as if tasting the flavor of each other, but soon the softness transforms into something deeper, more urgent.

His arms around your waist pull you even closer to him, as you cling to his neck.

The kiss intensifies, your mouths meeting in a slow but passionate dance, as if you've both been waiting for this moment for a long time, without even knowing it.

The feel of his hands on your skin, the heat emanating from his body, makes everything else disappear. The moon is still shining above you, the stars are still twinkling in the sky, but now there is only this instant.

His lips move over yours with a tenderness you didn't expect, but also with a passion that takes your breath away.

The softness of his mouth against yours and the warmth of his hands firmly holding you, makes you place a hand on his cheek and tilt your head to kiss him more deeply.

But suddenly, a rumble echoes through the sky.

You jump slightly, the sound interrupting the moment abruptly, and both of you stop the kiss as you turn at the same time towards the sky, confused by the noise.

When then, a burst of multicolored lights floods the night sky, followed by another explosive sound. And you watch in wonder at the fireworks, illuminating the horizon with flashes of red, green, gold and all colors.

The sparkles reflect off the ocean, painting the water with brilliant traces of color, as the party on the Sunset's pier is in full bloom.

And you guess that Alysanne didn't mean a lamp show, but fireworks.

Aemond also watches the show in the sky, then watches you again, both of you closer than ever and surprised by what just happened, both the kiss and the fireworks.

You watch him back, too, still surprised, your lips still warm from the recent contact, your heart still pounding in your chest.

And for a few seconds, you both stay like that, just watching each other under the fireworks, your bodies still entwined in the water, while the colors continue to dance in the sky.

But then, without much thought, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you lean into him again, your lips finding his once more, unable to help yourself.

And he reciprocates with the same need and gentleness, the kiss being more determined and firmer.

His arms wrap tighter around you, and you feel him pull you to him, closing any space between you. The water sways gently around you, but neither of you notice. Only the kiss matters, the warmth and the connection that has been reignited.

The salty taste of the sea on your lips and the sensation of his breath mixing with yours make it all feel intensely real and at the same time, almost like a dream.

His lips move with yours in a slow, deep dance, as the fireworks continue to explode in the sky, their distant sound almost becoming a melody.

But it's as if all that show is just a backdrop for what's happening between the two of you, the two of you kissing… under the moon.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

[minus-plus-zer0]

Vigilante Bakugou Headcanons - Part 1

| Part 2 | ♡ Genre: Angst ♡ Pairing: Vigilante!Bakugou x Normal!Reader

You met him when he saved you from a dark alleyway robbery.

He was one of the few superheroes around and was much scarier in-person. But despite this, he makes sure you're okay before telling you to run while he deals with the rest.

Your university classmates gossip about your city's superheroes, but they're not keen on Dynamight. His explosions are destructive and his personality doesn't help.

You totally disagree. In fact, you tell your classmate Bakugou Katsuki that you like this superhero quite a bit after he saved you! But you ask Bakugou not to tell a soul, you're confiding to him alone because you don't wanna get Dynamight into trouble.

Bakugou looks at you with an indescribable expression, but agrees.

You'd think Bakugou hates the guy by how he reacts, but that'd be so, so strange! Dynamight saved your life!

Bakugou was so relieved to see you back in one piece, so you'd think he'd respect Dynamight a little more.

But Bakugou has the darkest look on his face when Dynamight comes up. You comfort him, thinking that he's still just shaken up after you almost got hurt.

You're not entirely wrong…

Soon after, you see Dynamight again. When he's not doing hero work, he's meeting you in private places. You bump into him on your dorm rooftop one day (even though it's off-limits) and things kept rolling from there. He's got a voice modulator obscuring his true voice, but he doesn't sound too robotic.

At first you try to comfort him and tend to his injuries, which he rejected not because he didn't appreciate you but because he didn't want you seeing what's under his costume.

However, one day his injuries are a little too severe and he lets you tend to his wounds with medical supplies. You see the muscles he's worked real hard for, but you don't get too distracted.

From then on, he lets you in even closer. He likes hearing about your day, and he's really interested in what you think about your classmates. Especially Bakugou.

He starts telling you about his superhero life, as if he's been dying to tell someone (or at least you) about it all. Initially he feared sharing this would risk your safety, but he realized it's safer to keep you close than to keep you away. He's been thinking that since the day he rescued you, he tells you. Your heart skips a beat!

You know this lifestyle makes him lonely. It's awful holding onto that many secrets. You rest your head on his shoulder, showing him you care, that you're here for him.

He's hesitant, but he holds you close. He looks torn as to what to do.

You start developing a little crush on Dynamight. Eventually, when it grows big enough, you tell Bakugou about it!

You're busy gushing about the superhero until you notice that Bakugou isn't really amused.

(He's never amused when you talk about other guys but this time it's worse)

So you stop the gushing but still discuss Dynamight like any of your classmates would. It's a natural part of the news cycle by now and it's hard to escape when superhero incidents happen.

And after meeting Dynamight again and again you can't help but fall for him even more.

One week you spent more time with Dynamight than with Bakugou (not counting shared class time).

You admit to Dynamight that you only see Bakugou as a friend, hoping that Dynamight will know that Bakugou is not competition in your budding relationship with the superhero. You haven't confessed any feelings to Dynamight, but you're just preparing for the day you do.

But Dynamight doesn't seem happy to hear that. It's hard to say what's going on underneath his mask, but he's clearly not responding immediately. He's very still. He's not looking at you.

You're afraid of being rejected by Dynamight, so you put your feelings on hold. Maybe you were coming on too strong. Maybe he doesn't like you. That's a blow to your heart, but you'll still support him and stay friends, if what you think is true.

So next time, when you finally hang out with Bakugou again (who was mysteriously absent last week doing something), you hope it'll take your mind off of Dynamight.

But Bakugou seems more out of it than usual. He looks sad when you call upon him. You catch him staring at you more than he usually does. He doesn't speak as much.

You wonder if there was some sort of accident in the city that made everyone get all sad. You feel bad for Bakugou and want to comfort him, but for once you don't know what's bothering him.

As time goes on, Bakugou gets better. He's still always close to you, always your best friend, and only occasionally giving sad stares. Whatever problem he has isn't gone, not by a long shot, but he's hiding it better and maybe that's worse.

Eventually, you see Dynamight on the rooftop again. He's seems normal, but his mask hides his expressions so it's not clear.

You baked him some cookies, which he loves. He pulls his mask up to eat it like always. Once you're finished chatting about his superhero work and your university life, you broach your issues with Bakugou.

Dynamight listens without saying anything until you finish. He doesn't give any perspective on what Bakugou thinks or feels, probably 'cause he doesn't know the guy. Instead he just comforts you, sees how much this is hurting you, and wishes that you would stop worrying about him. He assures you it is not a big deal.

It is.

But you don't know that, so you agree, taking comfort believing that you're worrying for nothing.

You thank Dynamight for always being there for you. You cuddle up to him. He could never push you away.

Reluctantly, he pulls you further in.

Eventually, your heart can't really take it. You're face is flushed as you confess your feelings to him.

All his attention is on you as you confess, and by the way his chest feels, his heart is beating faster than ever before.

Somehow, he manages to speak.

"…Are you sure? You don't know who's under the mask."

"I know you saved my life, and many others! I know you from your heroics, from everything you've shared over the past months. Dynamight, I want you."

Suddenly, he can't keep himself from kissing you. He's desperate, like he's wanted this for a while, and you wanted it too. You don't know how long it takes to resurface for air because your lips are lost in him.

Once he's finished, he's pressing his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he says, a little sadly.

"Love you too, Dynamight." You hope your words will heal his sadness.

Afterwards, your heart is full and happy after your loving moment with Dynamight. You're eager to return to university.

But at school, you notice something different.

Bakugou isn't really talking to you anymore.

[cozy-writes-things]

Imagine finding one of Edgar’s old songs on some kind of lost media site. Nobody knows where it came from. But for some reason, you can’t seem to get enough of it. Here you are, singing it loudly as you waltz into your apartment, earbuds in, literally ignoring everything around you and just feeling the music. You figured it was some cheesy 80s bop that never got off the ground, not really paying any mind to it.

Meanwhile, Edgar is having a crisis.

Where did you hear that? How do you have it? Why is it bringing back such uncomfortable memories? Do you like it?

He sits watching your body sway intently to his song, your angelic voice singing his lyrics, and damn, it just does something indescribable to him.

Maybe he could remaster it with you doing the vocals this time. How great would that be? He makes the music, and you sing just for him.

You still haven’t noticed him yet, far too lost in the chorus, but you didn’t really mind. Edgar knew of your love of music; I mean, he had to. You annoyed him with it all the time. But he didn’t mind; it just made him fall more head over heels, really.

He stares at you indulging yourself in something he created, feeling a strange sense of pride, or perhaps even possessiveness. You are literally perfect for him. He truly believes you to be his soulmate. You’ll have to realize it sooner or later.

Grrr I love Edgar silently pining for you. Bro wants you SO BAD but he’s so scared to make a move PLEASR HELP THIS PUTER!!!

[chastiefoul]

wriothesley isn't a patient man.

he thought he was. but then you keep making him second-guess himself and he never does that as well.

for when days where the paperworks had become so dull and repetitive, and his thought drifted to you; his home. your oh-so-wonderful smile as you greeted him at the front door, sometimes so excited that he could tell you were in the middle of something before you ran up to him. you wrapped your arms around him and something has never felt so right as he inhaled deep on your scent. peaceful, cozy, yet unbelievably intoxicating. like a dream that's within grab and wriothesley's actually has it in the tight hold of his palm. you; his world.

days when the clock just moved excruciatingy slow, that a ridiculous ideas started to pop up in his mind. such as this one as he gazed at the abomination of a drink that sigewinne insisted calling as milkshakes. and as he drank the strange liquid, a bizarre indescribable taste trickled down his throat, he focused on that instead of the longing at the back of his mind as it reached carefully close to the tip of his foot, wanting no more than to carry himself home the sweet you.

taking a walk within the fortress perimeter as he patrolled, bows and salutes of the inmates crowding him yet all he could think about was the feel of your hand in his. scenes where you'd occasionally took a walk alongside each other. a brief moment of escape with you, the warmth, where he's not the ardent duke and he's just wriothesley, the flawed man. until one person came too close and he snapped out of his trance and sighed. daydreaming on broad daylight, a trip to the pankration ring will surely take his mind off of you, right?

an arduous day where a special meal from the coupon cafeteria barely excite him anymore. and if he could trade hundreds of that delicious goodness for a few minutes with you, he knew he'd do it in a heartbeat. yet all he could do was eat his food, as he recalled the giddy look on your face when he told you the first time about the special menu as you dig in happily. it was only wriothesley's lunch-time yet he couldn't be more eager to the dinner with you that night.

a monotonous routine where he spent years getting used to until you came. proving the hard-working man who spent his past worked himself to the bone bit-by-bit to collect credit coupons to slowly raised to the top that perhaps his patience wasn't as great as he remembered. you, who's the root of all his desire, the source in which he dared to once more put hope in. a heartbeat to where he had given half of him to.

as the day closing in, he put his duty to rest. a spring on his step as it quickened against the metal surface on the way to the place's lift. will anyone even believe the steps belong to none other than their serious and graceful duke?

seriously, wriothesley thought he was a patient man--and he is.

except when it comes to you.

[starmapz]

shame on me || chapter one || vessel

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. will have a happy ending!

additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later. wc || 6.2k.

edited but not beta-read.

series masterlist || main masterlist || next chapter

The sobs wracking your body were a small window into the pain you felt as the sounds of the sterile room began to fade, replaced by ringing in your ears. The warmth leaving your father’s body as you sobbed over his hospital bed, begging him to cling to life although your pleas were met with silence.

Doctors and nurses began to trickle out of the room, leaving you the space to mourn. A curtain was pulled around the small hospital bed, separating you from the young boy sitting alongside his mother in the bed behind you. You could only hope the dread you felt in that moment as your father’s presence faded, to be replaced only by memories, wasn’t a feeling the young boy would experience at such a young age.

“I miss you, dad.”

The silence following your weak and broken words was louder somehow than the commotion of trying to keep him with you only a few minutes ago. A silence that weighed you down and threatened to drown you with every waking moment.

“I’d give anything to have you back,” you whisper through broken weeps.

Leaning over the bed, you were oblivious to the sudden commotion restarting in the room outside the curtain. The deafening ringing in your ears, the tears blinding you, your world crumbling around you, it was all too much and you almost didn’t notice when your father’s finger twitched beneath you. Blinking away your tears, you slowly sit up, shaking hands staring at his fingers, which grew warmer. Your eyes trail slowly towards the monitor hooked up to your father as it beeps and all you can do is stare in disbelief. How could it even be possible what you were witnessing? He remained still, but warmth flooded his body.

As hope floods your grief-filled body, you become suddenly aware of the noise around you, the nurses and doctors flooding the room behind you in an effort to save the boy’s mother behind you, but she was gone already, as quickly as your father had returned.

Your emotions felt like a physical weight dragging you down as you dared to poke your head through the curtain that cordoned your father off. As the commotion died down around the family behind you, it picked up again where your father was now that his monitor had restarted.

Puzzled, you found yourself unable to do anything but stare at the poor young boy, clinging to his mother and weeping helplessly. What left you puzzled was the strange residue that lingered both in the air and around the woman’s body. It was indescribable, like some sort of smoke, yet it clung to her like a net.

That is cursed energy.

Startled, you flung yourself around to face- no one? Nurses worked tirelessly around your father as they tested and monitored his status, but none of them seemed to be paying you any mind.

I apologize, I did not intend to scare you, the voice, one of a calm and gentle demeanor, spoke one more. Your eyes scanned the room again, but you couldn’t identify the source no matter how hard you tried. You weren’t even certain where the voice had come from.

Holding your head in confusion as it began to pound in pain, you stumbled back to the chair beside your dad’s bedside, groaning as it felt someone was pulling your consciousness from your own body. Opening your eyes in an effort to make a desperate plea for help to one of the nurses, your vision blurred, a white light blinding you before you could so much as think, and you found yourself whisked away from the waking world.

You stood now on a massive wooden ship, creaking wood beneath your feet. Sat atop the bridge of the ship was a large serpent-like dragon with ethereal white scale, silver hair and long, slender horns. Its appearance was almost angelic, with the way its scales shimmered in the dim lighting of the cave that surrounded you. The ship swayed slightly as the creature’s tail twitched, pulling along with it a ghostly humanoid figure that fell back outside the boat. You found your eyes trailing to the edge of the ship, met with a river of apparitions, all human in appearance though they lacked distinctive features. A lowly hum reverberated through the cave from the river as they lapped against the side of the ship as though they were waves, causing a gentle rocking motion of the ship.

Stumbling backwards, your breathing quickens as you attempt to take in the sight. A dream, for sure. It had to be.

“Y/N,” the creature’s voice echoes through the cave, glowing red eyes ripping away the veil of what you had once thought of as an angelic creature.

Your words fail to reach your lips and all you can do is gasp as the creature slinks forward, moving as though the ship is a part of it.

“I do apologize for startling you,” the creature’s voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the red eyes that bore into you, leaving you paralyzed in fear as the gentle breaths of the creature waft over you.

“What are you?” You whisper in disbelief, your eyes flickering between its massive glowing eyes.

It doesn’t move as it responds very simply. “I am a curse,” your furrowed brow tells it to continue in its explanation. “I am a being caused by the negative energy of humans. Very few people know of the existence of us.”

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head, shuffling back to try to put any amount of distance between yourself and the monster.

The serpent straightens its long neck, towering over you menacingly, though it seemed to hold no malice towards you. “It would appear I have laid dormant within you for a few years,” it seems to say more to itself than to you. “When your mother passed during your birth, she requested I look after you.”

“My mother… cursed me?” You ask in disbelief, wide-eyed. Surely this was all just some sort of weird dream after the day you had had.

“I would like to think she didn’t,” to your surprise the creature seems to rumble as though it’s laughing, although it comes out more as a guttural noise, nearly a growl. “You were meant to die in childbirth. She asked me, as her companion for many years, to save you, at the cost of her life. It took a great deal of energy to transfer myself and it would appear I have laid dormant since then.”

Trying to take in all the information, you blink, slowly nodding. “So this isn’t some sort of sick dream, huh?” The dragon doesn’t answer. It knows you’re smart enough to answer your own question. After a short silence, it speaks once again, returning to its place on the bridge as it does so.

“Whether you intended to do so or not, you utilized my powers today.”

You examined the creature’s expression from where you sat below it, its majesty towering tall over you. Did it have the power to bring people back as it had done for you so long ago? Did you somehow call on it to save your dad? Your jaw slacks as a realization hits you and you barely manage to choke out the question that makes your stomach churn.

“That kid’s mother-?” Your voice betrays you, breaking before you can finish your sentence.

“Yes.” The creature doesn’t miss a beat as it responds, its voice unwavering.

A lump forms in your throat as your body begins to feel weak. Not only was this real, but you were now responsible for the death of a little boy’s mother. A weak whimper escapes through your lips as you feel your elbows weaken and you collapse to the floor of the ship. Your skin paling as your breaths grow ragged, you grip at your chest, clawing desperately in search of air, but nothing comes to you.

“I recognize I cannot offer much comfort, but you should not blame yourself for this.”

You can’t do anything but stare at the monster before you, tears trailing down your face as your shaking body betrays the panic coursing through you.

“What the fuck are you?” Your words are a desperate plea, a question you can only hope the dragon understands.

“I am death,” the dragon’s head lowers to meet your gaze with its own. “And you are my vessel.”

– 10 years later –

“Shoot,” you mutter to yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. You were nearly finished with the flower arch that had been ordered by your latest client for their wedding, but you were missing the twine necessary to complete the order. The arch was meant to be picked up tomorrow with the wedding coming up on the weekend, leaving you no other choice than to make your way into town.

Pushing yourself up from the ground, you dust your flower dress off, grab your bag and sunglasses, and make your way out the door in the direction of the outskirts of Tokyo. A walk couldn’t hurt anyway, it had been a bit since you had been in town. Your little cottage was located on the outskirts of Tokyo, hidden away in the trees with only your father knowing where it was located.

It was a lonely life, but it was safer. Safer, away from anyone you could hurt.

Is that a veil?

Your steps falter as you pause upon hearing Miriko’s voice, your eyes scanning the line of trees until you see the veil in question.

You grimace, debating whether it’s worth it to make your way to Tokyo later, but figure you can slip by unnoticed if you simply mask Miriko’s cursed energy, shutting her out. To anyone capable of seeing cursed energy, you knew your energy stood out, Miriko had told you that you were strong, stronger than most with her at your side. In addition to that, you had been shocked to find your eyes had become a dull crimson, replacing the color your eyes had been when you had grown up, but it was easy enough to hide behind the pink-tinted sunglasses you wore everywhere.

Pushing along the path, you shut Miriko out completely, masking your cursed energy. Continuing along the gravel and dirt path, you find yourself kicking at a pebble along the path, your eyes flickering up to the pile of rubble that stood where your neighbor’s house had once been, the veil now dispelled. You didn’t know your neighbors well, but still a pang of sadness pulled at your chest. They had been kind.

To your surprise as you stared at the pile of rubble, a pair of kids no older than sixteen were making their way out of the rubble towards you and the limousine car parked on the other side of the gravel road. They were loudly bickering over something to do with a curse, hopping over the rubble of the house. A girl holding a long weapon with deep green hair pauses as she hops down from a piece of splintered wood.

“Y’alright?” She frowns, grabbing your attention, as well as that of the blonde-haired boy beside her.

“Yeah, um,” you hum thoughtfully, a shiver running down your spine as you suddenly feel like you’re being watched. “The couple that lives here, are they alright?”

The girl nods slowly. “There was only one person here. Our friend took ‘em to the hospital.”

“Right, um, thank you!” You say in an effort to slip away unnoticed as the growing unease within you begins to itch uncomfortably within you. Turning to leave, you lock eyes suddenly with a white-haired man leaning against the limo behind you that you hadn’t noticed before. He’s smirking, but you’re unable to read his expression otherwise, his eyes covered by a black blindfold. You feel relief wash over you as you realize he can’t see you or more specifically your eyes as you were certain you would have accidentally locked eyes with him through the edge of your glasses. Your shoulders relax as you begin to make your way again to Tokyo.

“Why don’t we give you a ride?” His voice sounds behind you and you turn back to him, shooting you a smile he can’t see.

“That’s kind, but I’m good. Thank you,” you tell him, bowing your head and turning back towards the city, picking up the pace as your unease began to return, despite the offer sounding kind. Except-

You let out a sharp gasp as you turn around and are met with the sight of the tall man facing you, mere inches in front of you. Your heart falters and you jump back, blinking in disbelief at him. Could he see you after all?

“I insist.” His voice held a much darker and firmer tone despite his smirk.

“I’d rather not get into a car with a man I don’t know,” you stand your ground despite the voice within you begging you to get out of there.

“I’d get in the car if I were you,” his voice is lower yet as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, his muscles pulling the fabric of his black jacket taught. His smile doesn’t waver as he silently awaits your response. You straighten, about to stand your ground but before you have the chance to argue with him, he brings a hand up to pull one side of his blindfold down. His eyes are a brilliant and bright blue. They’re so bright, you almost wonder if they’re glowing, a horrible jolt of fear running straight up your spine, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Even with your cursed energy blocked, you recognized immediately that his eyes were like yours. He could see after all. He had seen your crimson eyes. Your lips pressed into a thin line, you slowly nod and let him corral you into the back of the limousine. Closing the door behind you, you watched from within the car as the white-haired man spoke to the two boys with a beaming grin.

“Ijichi, the school please,” he calls as he hops into the car, pressing a button on the console that separates the seats you both sat in, facing one another, from the seats the two boys and the driver were in.

“So,” he begins, leaning back with arms crossed behind his head in a deceptively relaxed manner. “A curse-user with no cursed energy? Seems a bit unheard of, no?” The playful lilt to his tone was unnerving and grated. Your jaw clenches and your eyes scan your surroundings as you debate whether it’s worth it to simply throw yourself out of the moving vehicle.

Staying silent, you steel yourself as you meet his gaze, although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew very well that he could see you now.

“More the silent type, hmm?” He hums playfully, leaning forward until his face is barely a foot from you. Your breath hitches in your throat at his close proximity to you and he smirks as your control wavers, your cursed energy slipping through the cracks. “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles lowly, leaning back again. You swallow hard at the menacing cadence his voice held despite his simple smirk.

Get out of here.

You grimace at Miriko’s words, your eyes scanning your surroundings once more. The stranger chuckles as he watches you scan your surroundings. Your anxiety rises as your cover cracks, your cursed energy growing more and more apparent. As your composure cracks, the white-haired man across from you pulls his blindfold down to lay around his neck. You swallow hard as your gaze locks on to his.

He is the user of the six eyes technique. A member of the Gojo clan. You’re in danger.

Her words in your mind did you no favors as you take a breath to steady yourself and keep your composure. Regardless of how strong your cursed energy was, your abilities came at a great cost and you couldn’t afford to get into a fight with someone that even Miriko considered a danger.

“Listen Gojo-”

“So you do know who I am?” He interrupts with a smirk, his blue eyes shining as though he’s proud to know that you know him, despite the fact that in truth you were lying. You nod slowly before he continues, leaning forward. His electrifying blue eyes are close enough to you that you can feel his breath warm on your cheeks. “In that case, let’s do this the easy way.”

Your eyes follow his actions as he lifts a hand, his fingers pulling your sunglasses down off the bridge of your nose. You stand your ground, your jaw clenching visibly. Gojo’s fingers brush your temple as he pulls your glasses away, moving them to hang off the collar of his black jacket in one swift movement.

“So let’s go over this, huh?” He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “A low cursed energy output, and yet you’ve got red eyes that you’re hiding. Now what kind of technique could you possibly have?” His blue eyes narrow, his smirk widening. “But that’s not the case at all, is it?” His voice is dangerously low, coming out as a near-purr. He didn’t seem angry, but rather curious. He was teasing you, playing with his food.

You stay silent, not daring to answer. Let him play with his food, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, nor lashing out at him and giving in to his questions.

“So,” he leans forward with a grin. Your brow twitches at the close proximity as you feel his minty breath on your face, earning a satisfied hum between his words. “Care to tell me ‘bout yourself?”

Do not speak.

You had no plans to admit anything to him, your eyes flickering down to your glasses hanging off his collar, wishing he hadn’t taken them from you. Though they were fairly translucent, they had felt like a line of defense against his questioning that you now lacked.

Gojo’s eyes narrow when you don’t answer, clearly not satisfied that you weren’t cooperating with him. “Let’s look at your options, shall we?” His hand rises close to your face and your eyes flicker towards the digit he has raised. “One, you tell me everything. Two, I drag every last detail out of you. Or three,” he pauses, his smirk disappearing. “I kill you under the guise of an uncooperative curse-user.”

Your mouth opens to try to defend yourself, but your words die in your throat. You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, trying desperately to think of some sort of secret fourth option. When nothing comes to mind and you remain silent, Gojo sighs and leans back with a groan.

“You curse users are never any fun,” he grumbles. To your surprise, he seems oddly bored. Was this all a game to him? Something he couldn’t lose? You grit your teeth, jaw clenching in response to his childish reaction. Who the hell did he think he was?

If he tries to fight, I’ll take over. Do not let him scare you. The Gojo clan has a good reputation, he shouldn’t be unreasonable.

Miriko’s words in your head were the closest thing you had to hope as you watched Gojo lock eyes with the driver. It wasn’t long before the car pulled over and you both stood on the side of a road in the outer edge of Tokyo, the side opposite of where your cabin resided.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” The eerie grin spread across his face. “Or did you want to do this the hard way?”

You take a step back from him. “I’m not here to fight you.” You’re thankful you’re able to keep your voice steady as you speak, but you aren’t sure how long your resilience will last.

“If that’s the case, then let’s start with names. Mine’s Gojo Satoru, but you knew that already,” his sly tone doesn’t do much to ease the tension in that air that could be cut with a knife.

“I’m y/n,” you introduce yourself uncertainly, eyeing the way he holds himself with a sort of nonchalant confidence. “And I’d like my sunglasses back,” you tell him, but he clicks his tongue at your words.

“These?” He asks, unhooking them from his collar to hold them an inch in the air above his hand. Your gaze narrows at the display.

He has the Limitless technique.

The what? You dare to ask Miriko, as though you knew anything about cursed techniques.

It doesn’t matter. Regardless, we won’t be able to do anything to him even if we were to fight. He is our natural counter.

Your eyes had drifted off to the side as you listened to Miriko, returning to face Gojo as you examined the way he curiously eyed you.

“Spacing out at a time like this?” He cocks his head to the side, his frustrating smirk not leaving his lips. “Unless you were talking to someone?” His voice is an octave deeper, a knowing look in his glowing blue eyes.

Your resolve didn’t waver and for that you were grateful. “Talking to who?” You countered, pushing down the growing feeling of anxiety.

“If you don't care to tell me, I’m sure the curse you were talking to will.”

You don’t make a move, standing stiff as a board. Surely he wouldn’t attack you, would he?

You regret blinking, as only a moment later he’s no longer in front of you. Miriko’s instincts kick in, turning and holding your arms up to block the fist full of cursed energy meant to hit you. Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight of your eyes, glowing a deep and eerie red, your hair now silver as your forearms are strengthened with cursed energy nearly as immense as his own. His punch still hits you hard enough to send you flying back into a tree, fracturing wood puncturing your back as you collide with the trunk.

“So she was talking to someone,” he laughs, clearly amused. From where you watched from within your own body, you could only scoff, Miriko’s words of the Gojo family being reasonable enough to make you roll your eyes. “So if she’s a vessel, who does that make you?”

Miriko pushes herself to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she effortlessly heals your wounds. “Who I am will mean nothing to you,” she calmly explains, red eyes burning into Gojo’s. He raises an eyebrow in response. “However I will give you the answers you seek if you cut a deal with me.”

“A deal? You talkin’ a vow or a handshake, Curse?”

“A deal, as you humans do. I do not wish to enter any kind of binding vow with the likes of you, Six Eyes.”

“Ouch, is that all I am to you?” He feigns hurt at the name Miriko had given him, but she doesn’t react. He sighs, clearly no longer amused with the situation. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

“You will leave us alone. You will not speak of us. You will not mention our existence, and I will give you five minutes of our time.”

Gojo crosses his arms, smirking slyly. “That’s it? What kind of curse wants to be left alone?”

Miriko is unphased by his question, standing her ground. “A curse that has been around for far too long.”

If you weren’t paying attention, you may not have noticed the way his smile falters for a split second, doubt flashing in his eyes, but it’s gone before you can think too hard about it.

“Deal,” he agrees, taking a step forward and outstretching his hand. Miriko takes his hand, shaking it. She glances momentarily down at his hand, his Limitless ability off. For a split second, she thinks about using her technique, but the trouble it would cause you both dissuades her. Regardless, it was an awfully reckless move for a sorcerer as strong as his presence alone felt to Miriko. She couldn’t help but wonder what his reasoning behind it was.

“Ask your questions, Six Eyes.”

“What’s your name?” He leans back against a nearby tree, putting a foot up against the tree’s trunk.

“Miriko,” she responds, giving him no more than exactly what he was asking.

“Miriko, nice to meet ya,” his grin returns. “What’s your technique?”

“Death,” she responds, her lips pressed into a thin line. Gojo’s brow twitches as if in disbelief and he straightens himself.

“Awfully strong technique, no?” He questions, his eyes now narrowed and his stupid grin wiped from his lips. It was a somewhat welcome sight over the frustratingly cocky smirk he so loved to display.

“Perhaps,” Miriko agrees. “No more than yours, Six Eyes.”

“Right,” he hums, narrowed eyes observing your features, however Miriko’s expression is unchanging. “Why have I never heard of a curse with your technique?”

“You have,” Miriko says confidently, observing the way a muscle in Gojo’s jaw works and eventually clenches. “Your kind know me by a different name.”

“Care to enlighten me?” He rebuttals quickly, blue eyes boring into your features as he searches for the answer. Miriko’s short and concise responses weren’t everything he had hoped for when he had agreed to her deal, but he had chosen to make a deal with the devil and would live with the consequences.

Miriko took a moment to consider her answer, the wind blowing through your now-silver locks as she eyed the sorcerer in front of her. “Your kind know me as the Grim Reaper.”

“Ha?” Gojo huffs questioningly, grinning at the response. “And here I thought that was just a story.”

“All stories come from somewhere originally, Six Eyes.” A silence falls between the sorcerer and the curse, sizing one another up through the tension that thickened the air between them, but Miriko had no intention of fighting a sorcerer capable of using the Limitless technique. She knew her limits, and she knew you were no fighter regardless. “Your five minutes are up,” she informs him, the glow of your eyes fading as your hair returned to its usual hue.

Gojo’s brow twitched at the sight of your return but as promised, he let out a deep sigh and pulled out his phone to call a cab for you.

–

Drops of water cascaded over the leaves of the plants you so carefully nurtured for your wedding flower business, each one thriving in the environment you had crafted on the outer edges of Tokyo.

The sense of relaxation and ease that the action of watering your plants brought was one that had become very welcome after the encounter you’d had with Gojo Satoru eight months ago. That encounter had changed much of the way you lived. You had moved to a more remote location, a property with a larger yard, a tall fence, and a big and well-trained dog.

Taro, your Rottweiler, you had trained with the express purpose of warning you about Gojo. You had left your sunglasses mostly untouched after the day of the encounter until you’d had the chance to train your new dog to search for him.

Aside from being a great guard dog, you were thankful for his company as well. You didn’t often visit your father due to the danger of your curse, and while Miriko was generally agreeable, you didn’t make a habit of trying to make friends out of fear. Maybe it was cowardly, but you knew Miriko preferred such a life.

Taro didn’t bark. He was a very quiet dog, so when he did begin barking, you knew exactly why. As if on queue, Miriko spoke in your mind to warn you of a cursed energy user nearby. Your gaze followed Taro to the front gate, where you didn’t yet see any figures. He wouldn’t dare after your encounter all those months ago, would he?

Telling Taro to sit, he did so as you opened the gate though his growls never ceased. The sight before you was one to behold. The white-haired sorcerer’s bloodied figure carried the corpse of a face all-too familiar to you, though a face you hadn’t heard tales of for a long time. Long, raven hued hair cascaded from the figure’s head, draping past Gojo’s arms. Blue eyes bored into yours, sending a chill down your spine at the eerie expression he displayed.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone,” your voice was small, but you were grateful you remained firm in your words.

Gojo’s mouth opens, but the words seem to die in his throat. The man you were staring at was not the same man you had met eight months ago and even if for only a split second, you feel a pang of sympathy. Taro’s growls and the growing feeling of anger from Miriko within you swayed your feelings back to one of resentment as he fails to respond.

Before prodding him again, your eyes flicker down to the man in his arms. Quietly observing the figure of none other Geto Suguru, whom you knew to be responsible for more than one incident, including one in Shibuya only a couple of nights ago, hung limp in his arms. His head was split open in such a manner that caused a shiver to crawl up your spine.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, hostility dripping from your voice like water slipping off a flower’s leaves. Gojo’s face is hidden by his hair as he stares down at the man in his arms, his expression hidden.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had anywhere else I could go,” his voice is strangely hoarse, giving you pause as your knuckles turn white as your grip on the gate increases. In another moment of weakness, your pang of sympathy returns, the strange vulnerability he showed tugging at your heartstrings, but Miriko dissuades the thought quickly.

Do not humor him, he holds a very dangerous curse-user. Do not trust him.

Miriko’s reminder causes your eyes to flicker back down to Geto Suguru and your brow furrows. “Get off my property,” you hiss, steeling yourself finally as the reality of the situation sinks in.

“I know we made an agreement, but-” his voice falters as he searches for words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you go to close the gate but his foot kicks out in time to keep it open. “Wait, please,” he begs, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he was left with no other option but to physically beg something of you. To think this man had played with you like a toy and now he was here asking something of you, it made you as sick as he looked and likely also felt.

Pushing harder against his foot, your eyes locked with one another and you pause. The usual look of mischief and amusement was gone from his eyes, replaced with a very genuine vulnerability, mixed with anger, and even desperation. With a sigh, you finally opened your gate to him.

You could feel displeasure spreading through your body, clearly Miriko’s own emotion being mixed in with yours, and Taro continued growling in small fits. You had trained him to do so, you couldn’t blame him really.

“Are you able to reverse your cursed technique?” Gojo asks, his lips downturned into a frown as he stood uncomfortably within your garden.

“No,” you lie, taking one look at the man in his arms and resolving to being unwilling to do what he was asking.

His blue eyes narrow for a moment, examining yours, before he sighs. “Right,” he hums, swallowing heavily. “But you’re-” he pauses, “Miriko’s the Grim Reaper right, can you at least let him rest?”

Blinking in disbelief, you let out a bitter laugh. “Peace? Gojo he-” you shake your head, “he killed thousands of people.” Your jaw hangs open in disbelief at the request.

“He didn’t-” Gojo stammers over his words as he watches your eyes widen in confusion. “It wasn’t-” he sighs finally, his head hanging. “I know.”

Again you find yourself with your brow knit tightly together as you eye Gojo cautiously. If you agreed, you would be left extremely vulnerable. Very rarely did Miriko enact on her role as a reaper anymore, there were so many curses these days that her mercy was rarely required, but the one moment where you had used her ability to lead a soul to the afterlife, it had left you in an extremely vulnerable state.

Was Gojo someone you could trust with such a thing? Surely not, and yet… Your mind flashed back to when Miriko had noticed he had shaken your hand with no barrier between you. Was that some sort of act of goodwill to ensure he’d have an opportunity like this now? Was he using you? You had no way to be sure.

The only reassurance you had was the genuine look of vulnerability that shone in his azure eyes.

“Is that something you can do?” You sigh, staring off to the side as you wait for Miriko to respond. Holding out your palm, you stare at the mouth full of pointed teeth that appears.

“Yes,” she responds eloquently, though her tone is less than amicable. She knew you had asked aloud to force her into a corner to agree, as she otherwise would have declined.

“Please,” Gojo’s voice is serious and small, uncharacteristically so.

You allow Gojo to set Geto Suguru, who you can only imagine was at one time a friend, on the ground before him as you kneel down opposite Gojo. You shoot him a cautionary glance before setting your hand on Geto’s robed chest.

Gritting your teeth, you shut your eyes as a familiar pain surges through your mind. Being dragged into Miriko’s domain within you held a familiar sight. The dragon’s scales shone in the dimly lit cave as the familiar lapping of souls against the wooden ship broke the silence of the air. Red eyes shone in acknowledgement of your arrival, before turning to face your visitor.

To your surprise, the soul of Geto Suguru didn’t look as you had expected. He looked younger, his hair up in a bun with only a couple of stray strands of hair falling down over his calm features. He had a much thinner build than Gojo, and tired eyes. He looked… kind. Uneasily, you shared a glance with him. He didn’t seem confused, and he was unable to speak in such a state, but still he shot you a smile.

All you could do was blink and watch as Miriko’s tail ushered him towards her, the ship lurching forward. You managed to catch your balance before you could fall over from the sudden movement, only able to watch as the ship approached a light from a hole in the usually dimly lit cave. Quietly standing at the rear of the boat, you observed as Miriko ushered his spirit towards the light as the ship lurched to a halt. The light from above shone for a moment, forcing you to shut your eyes. Blinking them open once again, you were able to see little more than the familiar shape of a ghostly spirit, not the one you had seen before. It was the residuals of Geto Suguru, which collapsed into the river beneath you.

Bright red eyes shone as the serpent turned to face you once again. Locking eyes with her was something you didn’t often do, however her calming and familiar presence wasn’t unwelcome. Despite her title of a curse, you had never considered her as such. Life was lonely, perhaps, but her company made it bearable.

Her silver mane sways at the hint of a breeze as her long muzzle towers over you for a moment. She takes pause before her breath cascades over your figure and you’re blinking as you take in the sun filtering through the leaves.

Removing your hand from Geto Suguru’s body, you lean back and blink to try to reorient yourself within your surroundings. Finally beginning to come to, your gaze rests on Gojo before you, staring at you intently. His blue eyes are filled with questions that you have no intention of responding to.

“It’s done,” you tell him, pushing yourself to your feet as you brush your knees and dress off.

Gojo took a moment to stare at Geto’s remains. You could see from the sadness in his eyes that he had a connection to the man, but you didn’t intend on questioning him and extending this encounter with the Limitless user any longer than you needed to.

The research you had put time into after your initial encounter with the sorcerer had told you all that you needed to know about him. That he was the strongest. The last thing you needed was him showing up at your door any more than he already had.

Slowly, Gojo picks up the body once more and makes his way to your gate.

“No coming back,” you tell him, your voice firm although you had some amount of sympathy for him after the vulnerability he had shown you.

He turns back to you for only a moment, his blue eyes searching yours from over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Gojo Satoru.”

series masterlist || main masterlist || next chapter

a/n || hello!! this is the first time i've ever posted a fic despite writing dozens of them. i've actually got the first several chapters written but need to do some heavy editing but at the very least you can expect the early chapters relatively quickly. i hope you like it and appreciate any support ♡ also i feel it's worth mentioning because i think it's very funny - i began writing this fic before i read the manga so the fact that reader is similar to another particular character is a complete coincidence lmao. not really sure how that happened but it is a fun little fact.

[mirohlayo]

FRENCH LOVE

( French is romantic, at least when you understand it. )

warning : fluff

note : I had to write in my native language at least once

word count : 683

Charles came to take a seat next to you, on the empty spot on the sofa. His eyes admired you with such a special and indescribable depth, that you couldn't describe what feeling he felt deep inside when he laid his eyes on you. “Have you finished your report?” His arm naturally came to rest on the edge of the sofa, moving closer to you, his fingers brushing the tip of your shoulder. “Yes, for today.” You try as best you can to hide your embarrassment by turning off your laptop.

“Viens ici, mon coeur” (come here, sweetheart) You didn't understand these words, only you quickly understood their meaning when Charles opened his arms wide so that you could snuggle into them. So with a light and beating heart, you settled comfortably into his comforting embrace. “Tu es tellement belle et ravissante comme ça” (you look so beautiful and lovely like that)

You didn't know what he was talking about, what words he was careful to use. After all, you don't understand the French language. But his perfect smile and bright eyes made you understand that it was probably something positive. So, you smiled at him in turn, although you didn't know the meaning of his sentence.

Several minutes, warm and peaceful, passed like this. His hand wandered quietly through your hair, plunging you a little deeper into a well deserved sleep. "J'aurai aimé prendre soin de toi ainsi... mais pas juste en tant que meilleur ami. En tant que copain" (I wish I could take care of you like that...but not just as your best friend. But as your boyfriend). His voice drummed strangely loud in your ears.

You sat up slightly so you could look at him, a questioning look fixed on your face. Your expression made him chuckle softly, and his fingers came up to sweep away a strand of hair. "Heureusement que tu ne comprends pas ce que je dis" (Luckily you don’t understand what I’m saying.). Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, perplexed by how he always spoke in French when he was around you.

"What did you say ?". You could only blurt out these few words, a sign of your incomprehension of the language he used. A glint of sadness moved discreetly behind his pupils, before he drifted his gaze behind you. “I said… fortunately you don’t understand what I say when I speak French.”

You tilted your head slightly, confused. "Why ?". Your eyes begged him to answer you without you even realizing it. He looked away again, feeling insecure. “You will certainly never see me the same way again…” His sentence is only a slight sigh, which nevertheless managed to reach your ears.

Your hands were now intertwined with his, while he showed a saddened expression. “You will always be the most important person in my life, Charles.” His eyes searched yours, perhaps to find hope and courage there. "Even though I love you? Not like your best friend. I love you, I'm in love with you. So much in love that I'm losing my mind."

He pauses for a moment before continuing slowly. “I was trying to be obvious because French is a romantic language, but I think it failed.” He scratches the back of his neck embarrassed. “Completely failed, I was wondering when you were finally going to explain to me what those sentences meant.” A laugh escapes your throat as he looks at you tenderly, a smile on his lips.

“So, can you translate the sentences you said to me?” Your eyebrows raised curiously, while Charles' cheeks turned a pretty pink. He clears his throat loudly. "Oh uh.. I was just saying that you are incredibly beautiful, lovely, very intelligent and just... adorable." You couldn’t help but kiss the corner of his lips softly, your heart racing.

“So if you were to say that, I think I could get used to listening to you speak French.” Charles laughed softly, cupping your face, placing his sweetest kiss on your lips. "Je t'aime". These words now sounded obvious to you. “I love you too, Charles.”

[brazilian-vampyra]

꒰ ♡ ₊ ꒱ ⠀!⠀ AKAI ITO (01/02) ! ⠀"

(english)

₊˚⊹♡ synopsis: the feared king of curses Ryomen Sukuna is back among humans, and you didn't expect to get his attention.

₊˚⊹♡ trigger warnings: kidnapping, strong language, nudity, suggestive topics, Sukuna being slightly lovely with the reader, violence, Sukuna x fem!reader.

₊˚⊹♡ the song Sukuna keep playing is "Fantasia and Fuge in G minor, BWV 542 "The Great" by Johann Sebastian Bach.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 and reasonably comfortable, when I found myself waking up suddenly, surrounded by the gloom of my room. A shiver ran down my spine, as if an electric current had suddenly manifested itself, and my senses sharpened, catching an indescribable sensation of an ominous presence that filled the space around me.

I opened my eyes in the darkness, trying to understand the origin of this inexplicable shiver. I raised my hand to the back of my neck, feeling how my hairs were standing on end, and a mist of uneasiness hung in the air, as if something malevolent had penetrated the boundaries of reality and was now hiding in the shadows. My heart quickened, not out of fear, but in silent anticipation of knowing what it was about.

With cautious steps, I slid my bare feet across the cold floor of my apartment, approaching the half-open window. Outside, the distant lights of Tokyo seemed obscured by an aura that even I couldn't explain, and the pulse of the normally vibrant city was drowned out by a sense of expectation.

My cell phone rang, on the bedside table, and I ran to answer it. It was very late, it was already past midnight. Who could it be?

It was my older brother.

━━ Did you feel it too?

We both asked at the same time.

━━ Yes, I did — I said to him.

━━ I did it too… — Toji replied. ━━ Are you fine?

━━ I am... but this feeling is very strange… — I replied, placing my hand on my chest.

━━ Look, go to sleep, okay? You have to teach at Jujutsu High tomorrow, I promise you everything will be fine — my older brother sighed. ━━ Good night, little sis.

━━ Good night, big bro.

I really couldn't sleep that night. The sensation was bizarre, as if something was lurking, whispering in my ear and breathing heavily on the back of my neck.

The next day was cloudy — something very different for spring, which was being followed by sunny days with a beautiful blue sky. The skirt of my white dress fluttered in the breeze and I adjusted the sleeves of my denim jacket as I walked inside Jujutsu High. I saw Megumi talking to Itadori in the hallway, and I ran to the brunette, hugging him tightly.

━━ Megumi, my dear! — I hugged him tightly, bringing my hands to his face, holding his cheeks and making him look at me. ━━ Are you okay?

━━ Hi, auntie… — he was still a little embarrassed that I treated him like that in front of his friends. Because I look more like a sister than an aunt, despite being older, my appearance is youthful due to my nature. There are pros and cons of being a 22-year-old teacher. ━━ I'm fine and you?

━━ That's good, I'm fine too! — I looked to the side. ━━ Ah, good morning, Yuji!

━━ Good morning! — the pink-haired boy smiled happily. He thought the way I treated my nephew was cute.

Although Toji is not a present father in my little darling's life, there are two people he trusts immensely to take care of our little one: me and Gojo Satoru.

Talking about him, I heard the light-eyed sorcerer call me, adjusting his sunglasses.

━━ Does my favorite sorceress have some time for an important matter?

━━ Of course!

Now we were in the teachers' room, gathered near the coffee machine, next to Nanami who looked tense. It was difficult to see that “wall” express something, just like my brother.

I took a sip of the coffee with notes of caramel and vanilla essence that he had prepared for me.

━━ Everyone felt that way yesterday, right? — Kento cleaned the lens of his glasses.

━━ I woke up in the middle of the night. That's strange... it never happened... — just remembering it made me feel cold.

━━ Well, I think we already know... — Gojo bit into a sandwich, how can he eat at a time like this… ━━ That if everyone felt the same thing, late in the morning... it's because something really, really bad happened... so, I think…

━━ No!

The blonde and I exclaimed at the same time. We already knew what he was going to say, it's almost like an intuition.

━━ You don't even know what I'm going to say!

━━ Yes, we know — Kento crossed his arms.

━━ It is not a hypothesis to be ruled out!

━━ It's impossible, Satoru! Impossible! — I said.

━━ The impossible is just a matter of opinion when it comes to magic, my dear — the white-haired sorcerer had an important point.

Ryomen Sukuna had been defeated during the Heian era, centuries ago. At first, the sorcerers had the idea of sealing the curse on twenty fingers, but they disregarded this hypothesis, as they were afraid that it would be easy to bring him back in the future.

Therefore, the king of curses was mutilated, completely dismembered. Then, the sorcerers cremated his parts, one by one, and sealed them in individual urns, which were spread across different parts of the world. How could anyone have gotten all these urns and performed the ritual to get him back?

It would be a lot of work for a huge disgrace. Many rituals had to be done, innocent blood had to be spilled so that the ashes would materialize in parts of his body again.

Who wanted Sukuna alive?

If he returned, he would destroy the sorcerers. And, our death means the death of everyone, the death of humanity.

Now, I walk along the winding forest trail, surrounded by the shadows of the trees in this late afternoon. My mind is still restless, and what Gojo suggested earlier is haunting my every thought. I don't care so much about what will happen to me, but I need to protect my nephew, my brother and my friends.

The sparkling crystals I sought out for the purification ritual were a welcome distraction. The city was as restless as my head, and I felt it in my core.

While collecting the crystals among the roots and mosses, a strange sound broke the silence. A thunderous cry for help. I immediately dropped the crystals and ran away as fast as I could.

I was immediately petrified by the terrifying scene that my eyes captured. There was a dead man on the floor; unfortunately I arrived too late. His lifeless and completely bloodied body lay with his chest open and empty. I went closer to look at the hole.

━━ It couldn't have been a bear, there are no scratches... it was just a fatal blow to the chest…

━━ Well now... are you looking for this?

I heard a booming voice behind me, and I looked back. He was identical to Itadori, even the color of his hair, and was more muscular. Furthermore, there was something different in his gaze: cruelty. There were two extra eyes just below the ones already on his face, and he was a little taller. But it didn't have four arms.

Gojo was right, really, the impossible in the field of magic is just a matter of opinion.

I looked at the hand he offered to me, there was the man's heart, and it was pulsing a little. My reaction was to run as far as I could, and even then I could hear his evil laugh.

━━ Run, run and hide, bunny! Just don't let me find you!

Fighting Sukuna would be suicide, and suddenly I found myself lost in the forest. How can I? How am I lost in the fucking forest I've been wandering through my whole life? I know this place like the back of my hand

I was on the verge of having a panic attack, I ran as if my life depended on it — and it did — if I died, I wouldn't be able to protect the people I love. I sneaked between some trunks and trees, until I got close to a stream, where I could hide behind some rocks. The only thing I heard now was my heartbeat and the sound of water, along with some owls.

When suddenly, I feel a hand touch my shoulder.

━━ Oh, what a shame... I found you!

Sukuna's hands went to my hips, squeezing tightly as he tried to hold me in his lap. I struggled and screamed, it seemed like my powers were useless now, because when your emotions are shaken, your magic weakens. He didn't even tickle that son of a bitch.

━━ I love skittish women, you know that?

The blood on the cursed palms stained my white dress, which was now practically scarlet, and also stained my skin. Despite all my efforts, nothing worked, he ended up throwing my body over his own shoulder, while I continued to struggle.

━━ Look, I'm trying not to hurt you, but you're making things difficult, bunny.

He laughed sarcastically, I was a complete joke now. A sorceress from the Jujutsu Academy who couldn't protect herself, unfortunately my emotions still shook me a lot and this made my techniques difficult.

I looked at the ground, seeing some footprints that the tallest one left. What would become of me now? Was he going to kill me? Swallow me alive?

My eyes were starting to tickle a little, as if an invincible sleep was ravaging my eyelids, which became increasingly heavy, until I sighed one last time, and fell into a deep sleep.

[...]

I woke up in a daze, with my senses deadened by the oppressive darkness that enveloped me. My mind tried to comprehend the situation while my body remained still, I felt something around my wrists, a cold material. The feeling of being captive, enclosed in darkness, left me with severe restlessness.

I then sat down, on what seemed like a very soft carpet, at the same time I heard the noise of the chains. I wish this was just a dream.

━━ Shit… — I sighed.

━━ Good morning, sleeping beauty.

I heard his harsh voice ring through the room, when the fireplace was lit, with its purple flames. Now the environment had become illuminated, and I could see better where I was. It looked like an old living room, perhaps from imperial times, with sophisticated furniture.

Sukuna was there, a few meters away from me, sitting in a leather armchair, wearing a black kimono and with his arms crossed. He smiled at me, like an idiot smiles when he knows he's won.

━━ What’s this? — I was still disoriented, it felt like I had hibernated. ━━ How long did I sleep?

━━ Just a few hours, relax.

━━ Where am I? What is this place?

━━ My palace. You're in my living room — he opened his arms and showed me the room.

I felt my head boil and whistle, like a pressure cooker, and if this were a cartoon, there would definitely be smoke coming out of my nostrils and ears. A tantrum was rising in me, and I could even feel my powers coming on, but it had no effect.

Instead, my left shoulder started to burn.

I groaned in pain and started panting. Until I looked to the side and noticed a mark on my skin, like a seal or something similar. Had he blocked my powers? For the love of the elder gods, someone kill me.

━━ Oh, my dear... you won't be able to use your powers, not here — he sighed, as if he was saying something completely casual. ━━ The more you try, the more the seal will burn, and as I'm sure you don't like feeling pain, I recommend stopping…

━━ You son of a bitch... — were the most sincere words I could come up with.

━━ Aww, this hurts... — he placed a hand on his chest after that insult.

━━ Honestly, I'd rather you kill me right away.

He laughed then, a strangely satisfying laugh, like someone who had just heard the best joke of the year.

━━ Kill you? No no. I have other plans! — He got up from the armchair and walked over to me. ━━ What would be the fun in killing such an adorable little creature like you?

━━ What are you going to do? Leave me here to decorate your living room? I'm pretty sure I'm not part of the decor.

━━ No, no... I just want company, you know? — he patted my head, as if I were a dog. ━━ I was gone for so many eras... and you were the first pretty face I saw. So I thought "why not bring her here?"

━━ That's ridiculous.

━━ Well, maybe it is. I don't care — he shrugged and walked to the room's huge door. ━━ We can play later, bunny. Now I have some important topics to solve as a king.

The moment he closed the door I started struggling and swearing. I was furious and felt like crap. How could I have fallen into his clutches? How did this happen?

Now look where I am! On the carpet in the living room of this huge palace where he lives, alone, chained, powerless and in the dark. If he swallowed me all at once, it would be a much more dignified death. But for him, it might be funny to see me suffer like this.

I tried to look at the windows, and saw that they were covered by long, thick black curtains.

The only source of light I had left was this fireplace with a purple flame. I stood up and noticed how dirty I was, with dried blood and the smell of iron that entered my nostrils. The chains were only attached to my wrists, and they were considerably long, they didn't keep me completely immobile.

I heard a voice whisper something inaudible.

I was surprised and remained silent, listening carefully to see if the voice said anything again. And so it happened, a shame I couldn't recognize it. However, I saw that the voice had come from the fireplace, so I approached it slowly. Were there any souls?

They said something again.

━━ What? — I whispered.

━━ Fresh soul…

By the gods, it's not possible.

━━ FRESH SOUL! — several voices said together, and then a hand came out of the fire and grabbed my ankle.

I screamed in surprise and tried to free myself, but to no avail, as another hand came to grab my other ankle. My body fell to the floor at the same moment, using as much strength as I had left so I could kick those hands and they let me go, while I clung to the carpet. I managed to kick some of them, however, then others came and grabbed my ankles, pulling me towards the fire.

I was being pulled by a legion of souls. Fighting was in vain, I no longer had as much strength as before.

━━ FRESH SOUL! FRESH SOUL!

That ghostly chorus scared me even more, so I had no other option:

━━ SUKUNA! SUKUNA!

I screamed, desperate, and in a few seconds he appeared. The door to the room was slammed against the wall when he stormed in and shouted at them.

━━ RELEASE HER NOW!

The souls obeyed and released my ankles, while Sukuna snapped his fingers and made the chains disappear. He bent down and picked me up, holding my legs and my back. He didn't hold me sloppily like he had in the forest, this time he was really careful, and that left me perplexed.

However, this experience was so scary that it made me cry with anxiety.

━━ Why didn't you just throw me in a fucking dungeon!?

━━ The palace is mine, I decide where I put you — he began to walk out of the room, heading into a vast hallway. ━━ Besides, there must be something much worse in the dungeon.

I remained silent, as I was in the grip of this powerful curse. The only thing I could do was accept my fate, and accept whatever it was going to do to me. I didn't have much of a chance to resist, because even though I'm without the chains, I still have the seal on my shoulder.

He continued walking a little further down the corridor, carrying me, until he reached a… room?

The walls were covered in dark velvet, in a shade of moss green and there were large crimson curtains, which adorn the large windows, leaving the light scarce and filtered, which gave me a feeling of seclusion. In the center is a colossal four-poster bed, ornamented with what I thought was gold and carved from dark wood.

Persian rugs covered the stone floor, and there was an ebony table next to it. In the far corner of the room was a fireplace that crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. After this experience with the cursed souls, I have a certain trauma, but apparently it's "common fire".

I also noticed one or two paintings on the wall, with images from Japanese folklore.

━━ Take a shower and it won't take long to go downstairs.

━━ Down the stairs? For what? — I questioned, as he placed me on the ground.

━━ You have to feed.

So, he closed the bedroom door and left me completely alone. I looked up from the bed and noticed a white kimono. I took it and went to another oak door, which was a bathroom.

There, I took a good shower to remove the blood from my body, and take a few deep breaths, while the warm water kissed my skin. I sighed heavily several times, thinking about how my family and friends were doing. Were they already looking for me? Does everyone already know that Sukuna is on the loose?

What if I never get the chance to see them again?

I should have had lunch with Toji more often, and I should have hugged Megumi harder and longer. A few tears rolled down my face when I thought about it, but I preferred to avoid dwelling on that thought. I dried my body with a red towel that was there and got dressed with my kimono, leaving the blood-stained dress on top of the marble sink.

Leaving the room, I paid attention to the large windows in the hallway. The sky was strange, like the end of a very cloudy day. I descended huge stairs that seemed to be made of ivory, adorned with red carpets that slid down the steps.

At the bottom of the stairs, he was waiting for me. His expression was friendlier than yesterday when we first met. He didn't have four eyes, nor a sarcastic smile.

━━ It is a little big, but from the looks of it, it fit — he said, looking at the kimono. ━━ Then I'll get you better clothes.

I nodded silently and followed him as he walked, heading to a huge dining room. All the rooms in this palace were certainly dark, with these chandeliers that provided very good lighting, but did not take away from the funereal air.

There was a huge dining table in that room, like those you see in huge banquets in medieval films. Sukuna felt on edge, and pulled out a chair next to me for me to sit on, and I did so.

━━ Then what you will do? Snap your fingers and make food magically appear?

He laughed softly and shook his head.

━━ You're smart, I appreciate that — he said calmly. ━━ What do you want to eat and drink?

I gave a description of some food and a drink, quite accurately, saying everything. And immediately, he snapped his fingers, making it appear on the table.

━━ Make sure you eat right, okay?

Was that a way for him to show that he cared about me or what? Because if he was trying to convey some credibility, he wouldn't succeed.

I thanked him shyly and began to eat quietly, while he remained next to me, with one elbow resting on the table, while one hand was supporting his face. His eyes watched me intently as I chewed and took subtle sips from the glass. It was then that I noticed a bracelet around the man's strong wrist; probably amethyst.

━━ Dessert time now?

He suggested, and in the blink of an eye, a slice of berry pie appeared on a small porcelain plate in his hand.

━━ What? Hm… of course, of course.

He picked up a silver fork and brought it to the slice, which was soft and juicy. Then taking it to my mouth. I was surprised and had no reaction for the first three seconds, until I finally accepted and ate it.

What's up with this guy? Is he doing what the witch did to Hansel? She fed him a lot until he was chubby so she could eat him.

Sukuna looked at me differently. I would say he didn't look at me as someone who would kill me, but with a certain appreciation. A certain compassion, perhaps. But, that silence was strange, so I decided to ask:

━━ Where did this bracelet come from? — I finished chewing some of what he had given me. ━━ I mean, it doesn't really fit your aesthetic.

━━ Not really, but I love it. I've been using it since the day I got it.

━━ Love? — I gently licked my lower lip, collecting the crumbs. ━━ I'm sorry, I can't imagine someone like you is capable of love.

━━ I didn't knew I had this ability either, until the woman in my life showed up — he said, taking another piece on his fork.

━━ Have you ever fallen in love? — now I was really perplexed.

━━ Unfortunately, yes.

From the tone of his response, I could guess that she had broken his heart.

━━ It must not have been a good experience, I'm sorry.

━━ It was a great experience — he gave me some more pie. ━━ But I fell in love with someone who was my complete opposite.

━━ Was that a long time ago?

He laughed softly.

━━ Since the Heian era. She was the sorceress of the imperial family — how strange to see him talking like that. ━━ Strong, smart, powerful, fucking beautiful…

As much as he kidnapped me and is harmful to humanity, I can't hate him. Why can't I hate him? It's all so confusing, he doesn't seem like the monster everyone says he is.

━━ Did she not return your feelings? — I ate the last piece that was left.

━━ It's a question I still ask today. Unfortunately, the doubt will be eternal, since she was killed and I couldn't declare myself.

━━ D-Dead? By the gods, by whom?

━━ For the damned Gojo clan... — I swear I heard his voice shaking with anger. ━━ They took her from me... all because of envy, since she was better than them in everything.

━━ Which clan was she from?

━━ Zenin.

Oh, an ancestor!

━━ It's my clan... — I ended up thinking out loud.

I didn't even have time to lose myself in my reverie, as I saw three young women entering the dining room. They were wearing very revealing clothes, exposing many parts of their bodies and they went laughing towards the pink-haired man, hugging him and kissing his face.

I cleared my throat in the most blatant way possible, making them look at me.

━━ Oh, these are…

━━ Concubines. Every king has them, and I know what they're for.

I got up from the chair and started walking away.

━━ Have fun with him, girls. Bye-bye!

I smiled at them without showing my teeth, they waved at me, while I turned my back and went as quickly as possible to the stairs. Why do I feel angry about this? It's something that goes beyond embarrassment, beyond simply thinking I'm getting in the way.

I was truly "upset".

I had a strange dream when I took a nap. This seal on my shoulder makes me "weaker" and makes me feel a little more drowsy, thanks to the damn restriction. During this dream, I was walking in a forest with beautiful Sakura trees, the cherry blossoms were blooming and it was night. The light of the full moon illuminated the place, it was peaceful.

I heard laughter in the distance and my feet guided me close to a beautiful stream.

I saw Sukuna from afar. In its original form. He was extremely tall, muscular and had four arms. His body was covered in a white kimono with some black patterns drawn on it. There was a woman with him, who had her back to me while I could see him... smile!?

━━ I think I should have made more bracelets, right?

The woman's voice was sweet, but I couldn't recognize it. Is this the woman of his life? The one he had mentioned in the dining room?

━━ Choose an arm for me to use, you have four options!

━━ I'll choose this right here!

And so I saw her putting an amethyst bracelet on him, the same bracelet he was wearing.

[...]

The next day, I woke up and opened the curtains in my room — the sky was cloudy and dark — and then went to make my bed. The kimono was a little wrinkled, since I only had that outfit.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, and it was him. Who else would it be, right?

━━ Good morning princess, I brought you new clothes.

He placed them on the bed, and I took a good look. The fabrics seemed to be of quality, but I had one condition to use them.

━━ If it's your concubines' clothes, I'd rather be naked.

━━ It's totally fine for me.

He crossed his arms and I froze. Did this idiot actually agree with this idea?

━━ What?

━━ Fine by me. It'll be even more fun that way.

As much as I don't like the idea, I can't show weakness. I immediately took one of my hands to the bow, which was on the back of the kimono, and pulled it so it could come undone. The bow came undone and the piece of clothing fell to the floor, leaving me completely exposed.

His eyes roamed over my skin, taking in every feature of me. Like he was taking a good look, to be able to memorize what I looked like naked. A gentle breeze came from the window, making me shiver, and I felt my nipples harden.

He laughed softly, a laugh of satisfaction that was extremely clumsy.

I curled up, dead with shame, trying to hide my body with my hands. Sukuna was only a few centimeters away from me, and I felt so vulnerable that it seemed like a lie.

━━ I'll get you some other clothes — he said, with a smirk, going to the bedroom door. ━━ Nice body, by the way.

I felt my face blush when he "breathed" this last compliment, before leaving the room. I sat on the bed and covered my body as best I could with the kimono, waiting for him to return with the new clothes.

He seemed to be ogling me at that time. My heart was racing, and my cheeks were still hot. I was a little shaky, due to the growing nervousness that was growing in me as I kept reliving this scene in my head.

Sukuna returned to the room minutes later.

━━ Here, I think it's your size — he handed me some folded black clothes. ━━ And, don't worry, it is not from the girls.

━━ Thank you... — I was going to get dressed, and I noticed that he was still there, but leaning against the wall and with his arms crossed. ━━ You can go, I'll be right there.

━━ Nah, I feel good here — he smiled mischievously. ━━ Don't worry, you have nothing to hide from me.

I swallowed, and went to get dressed, feeling his eyes on me. I had panties, a dress and socks that went up to just above my knees. I put on the panties, sliding the underwear down my legs and then picked up the dress. It looked short — and it really was — with a slightly more accentuated waist, like a corset, and delicate straps, and I also put on socks, since walking barefoot on that stone floor was horrible.

━━ Don't you think... the dress is a little short? — I pulled the skirt down a little, seeing that it barely covered my ass.

━━ No, I think it's perfect — he motioned for me to go through the door first, and so I did.

As we walked down the hallway, I heard him laugh softly and felt his eyes fixed on my ass as I tried to pull down my skirt several times.

Apparently I would be alone all day, as he had said he had "important tasks". He also said that I could freely walk around the palace, except for the fourth and fifth floors. I said that I understood everything and that I would not break any rules.

But when he left, I went up the huge staircase until I reached the fourth floor. Unfortunately, when I was about to go further down the corridor, I was stopped. There seemed to be an invisible wall that wouldn't allow me to proceed.

━━ It must be because of that restriction seal — I grumbled as I looked at my own shoulder.

With no other options left, I went down the stairs and "adventured" to the second and third floors. The first floor was where there was the dining room, the kitchen, the main hall, and what appeared to be a wine room.

On the second floor, there was my bedroom and three others, next to the living room in which I had been trapped at first, and a treasure room, with mountains and mountains of gold, jewels, chests, etc. That room was so bright that it seemed to have irritated my eyes.

On the third floor I saw a music room, a painting room and especially a huge library, which is where I entered without thinking twice.

The space is vast and lit by antique chandeliers, whose flames flicker gently, casting dancing shadows on the shelves full of books. The walls are covered in dark wood panels, decorated with intricate carvings that represent mythical creatures, or something very similar. The shelves are made from the same dark wood, displaying an impressive collection of perfectly aligned, leather-bound volumes, from the finest books to grimoires.

I noticed a reading table decorated with upholstered chairs. There were two or three grimoires on top of it, next to an old map made of yellowed paper.

At the end of the library there was a spiral staircase that led me to a mezzanine adorned with colorful stained glass windows, which filter daylight in hypnotic patterns throughout the room, what's more, the air is full of various incense. I think I could stay here for the rest of my life.

I didn't take any books from the shelves, I preferred to read one of the ones on the reading table that I had seen before. I sat comfortably in the chair, and the moment I opened it, a page fell out. It wasn't from the book, it was on cream paper that had something written on it.

He said "my greatest curse is being in love with someone I can't have."

That could only be Sukuna's handwriting, and deep down I felt sad for him. Just remembering the way he talked about her yesterday, I could imagine how broken his heart was. Was I really feeling compassion for him?

There could just be something wrong with me.

[...]

After spending the whole afternoon reading a book of spells and seeing which ones I knew, and which ones I wanted to learn, it was starting to get dark. He still hadn't come back, and I was starting to get bored.

Well, he didn't say anything about me not being able to cook, right?

I left the library and went to the stairs, hurriedly going down and going to the kitchen. It's incredible that he had so much stuff in that pantry, but he didn't cook. Was this all laziness or what?

I remembered something my mom used to make for me: cupcakes. When I was a child, it was very common for the house to always smell like these cookies. It was something I also did for my nephew and brother when I had free time.

Are they okay?

I didn't want to think too much about it and went to prepare the ganache first so I could let it cool while I prepared the dough. The dough was vanilla, and there were even fresh cherries for me to put on top, along with the whipped cream.

Almost everything was ready, the cupcakes were in the oven and the ganache was cooling.

━━ What are you cooking? — I felt Sukuna's cold fingertips slide down the back of my neck.

━━ You don't know how to arrive in a conventional way, do you? — I got goosebumps and complained, looking back and seeing him with a mischievous smile. ━━ It's a vanilla and chocolate cupcake.

━━ The smell is great.

━━ Thank you, wait until you eat. Or do you only eat humans?

He laughed, and I could see that I caught him by surprise.

━━ I eat normal things too.

The cupcakes were finally baked, and now I had removed them from the oven so they could cool on the counter. I sat on top of it.

━━ Now I have to wait for it to cool before I can fill it.

━━ Do you get burned by this? — he mocked.

━━ No, but the restriction seal leaves me vulnerable to these “ordinary human” problems.

━━ If you behave properly, I'll remove him.

He started opening the dumplings with the knife and holding them with his hand. I laughed softly.

━━ For what? For me to kill you?

━━ It depends, if it's to have you on top of me, I think it's worth it.

I felt my face heat up again, as it had earlier when he saw me naked. What is it about him that can disconcert me so easily? I even seem to like him.

━━ Aren't you going to fill it with me?

━━ Of course, I will.

I took a deep breath and got down from the bench, with an awkward smile, trying to hide how embarrassed I was.

If somebody told me that I was going to fill cupcakes and eat with Sukuna in the kitchen of his palace, I would bet all my money that it was a lie. But apparently fate had different plans for me.

━━ It tastes spectacular! Congratulations, cupcake! — he said, biting another piece of the cupcake he had in his hand.

━━ Why did you call me cupcake and not princess or bunny this time? — I looked up at the tallest one.

━━ Because you're not defenseless and fragile like a bunny — he continued. ━━ But, you're certainly cute, pretty and delicious like a cupcake.

I had nothing to answer. Now, I'm sure he realizes how he leaves me and does it on purpose.

━━ Then go upstairs and take a shower. I put pajamas on your bed, see if it fits.

━━ Don't tell me it's tiny and short like that dress.

━━ I think I've reached my perversion limits for today, relax, covers everything.

When I went to my room, I took a shower with that wonderful warm water and got dressed in the pajamas he had left for me. It was a delicate white nightgown, with thin straps and a low waist. The fabric was probably silk, judging by its comfort and texture.

The ends of my hair were a little wet, but my skin was fresh and I felt clean and light.

As I looked at myself in the huge mirror, I heard music. A melody coming from some instrument, I was sure it was coming from upstairs and it was probably Sukuna in the music room. Somehow, those notes were mesmerizing me and my feet guided me through the palace to there.

I reached the door of the music room and stood there, silently watching as he was engrossed in his melody. He was sitting in front of the majestic organ, with his skillful fingers dancing over the keys, producing an enveloping harmony that filled the space with powerful, funereal notes. The golden light from the chandeliers was reflecting on the polished keys of the instrument.

As I listened to the majestic music, I felt a strange wave of emotion and non-existent nostalgia invade my mind. The musical notes resonated inside my head, as if I had heard this melody a million times, but in reality it was the first time. I couldn't explain it, but it was as if this song was important to me, as if it had marked me.

Tears welled up in my eyes, sliding silently down my cheeks as I relived ghost memories. It was a feeling of belonging and knowledge. The melody Sukuna played was more than just a sound; it was like an enchantment that created a bridge between the present and a past that I was simply unaware of.

I stayed there until the end, listening note by note, and when he played the last one, he sighed and passed his hand over his face, as if he were thoughtful. He looked back and saw me, his expression went from relaxed to worried in a matter of milliseconds.

━━ Hey Hey! Princess, are you okay? Why are you crying?

He came to me because I just couldn't stop crying.

━━ You... you played this song for me, Sukuna... you played it... — I cried more and more, my mind was wandering, I felt out of my depth. ━━ I-I remember…

I felt his hands on my arms, holding me to try to calm me down while I only knew how to feel sad, and at the same time with this false nostalgia that hit me with the same force as a wave on the beach on a rough tide day. I was losing strength, feeling a strange headache.

If it weren't for him, I would have fallen to the ground, as I ended up fainting.

[...]

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: I adapted and changed many things in the anime's lore to adapt to this, but I hope it's understandable. By the way, Toji and the reader are brothers only on their mother's side.

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: I'm already writing the second part and there will be smut.

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[frankenkyle19]

Sit Down (Colin Zabel x Reader smut)

Word count: 1.3k

warnings: oral (m receiving), handjob, literally just reader giving Colin a sweet ass blowjob because he’s super stressed out from work. Not proofread so that’s honestly the biggest warning.

Colin Zabel was in many ways, seasoned in life. A detective, having seen his fair share of awful situations and people, more than most would see in their entire lives. He saw the worst of humanity on a daily basis but it never pulled the smile from his face. Maybe he was meant for this job, because it never seemed to affect him.

Well.. For a while, but it was beginning to drain him now, after months and months with no break it was taking more of a toll on him than he thought. 

But Colin being the person he was just refused to take a break. It was infuriating at times as well as being admirable. Being his girlfriend was no small feat, but you did love him more than anything.

The only thing that confused you was how strange he was with intimacy. You’d had sex a few times but never much foreplay and he hardly let you touch him. You just chalked it up to him wanting to be in control, but the longer it went on, you realized it was more than that… Was your charming detective possibly, perhaps… Inexperienced in the bedroom?

Not like it mattered to you, but you wanted him to be comfortable trying new things with you and feeling like he was able to talk to you about it all.

—————————————

The second he walked through the door after work, you knew something was up. He was grumpy, standoffish and just looked irritated. 

“Colin, would you please talk to me?” You said, sighing softly as you watched him pace across the expanse of your shared living room and kitchen. It was making you dizzy just watching him.

“There’s nothing to talk about babe I don’t know what you want me to say-“ He spoke, shaking his head and running a hand through his short brown hair, something he seemed to do more often when he was stressed. 

Your eyes shot daggers at him as he shook his head once more, still pacing. He was obviously stressed and talking wasn’t going to work. He’d been stuck at work and doing so much extra that he needed some sort of break. Talking didn’t seem to be going anywhere so the next lap he made around the couch you pulled him down, sitting on his lap to keep him still.

Colin, obviously startled and shocked, looked up at you with confusion “what’re you doing?” He asked, brows furrowed as his hands instinctively found their way to your plush hips.

You didn’t stay there for long and began to explain as you got on your knees in front of him, taking off his belt as he just sat there in shock, unable to form a few words let alone a single sentence.

“You’re so stressed, you need to find a way to get it all out. I have a hypothesis, this might help. Go with me on this, yeah?”

Colin, already breathless, just nodded. Finally he wasn’t pulling away from you, finally was letting you do what you so badly had wanted to do for months.

You undid his belt and pulled it slowly out of each loop before tossing it to the ground. You then popped the button and zipper on his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers.

He was surprisingly very hard already despite you having barely done anything. This was your confirmation that he did in fact need and want this.

Colin bit his bottom lip at the first contact of your hand to his cock, stroking over the velvety soft skin that covered his hard on, an indescribable feeling, soft yet hard at the same time.

You let your thumb graze across the tip of his cock, picking up some of his sticky pre-cum along the way as you rubbed over the slit slightly, watching the liquid spread across your thumb and the head of his cock.

Colin groaned above you, unable to keep in his noises as he sat up a bit taller, trying and failing to compose himself as you slowly leaned down to press the lightest of kisses to his throbbing cock.

He mewled, hips barely arching up in search of more. He needed more of it and he never wanted it to stop. 

A few more kisses and you explored further, gathering the saliva on the tip of your tongue and watching as it slowly dripped onto his cock, sliding down the thick length until it reached his balls.

He shivered, adams apple bobbing as you took the tip fully into your mouth, sucking on it enthusiastically, moaning at the masculine taste that just was Colin.

“Fuck- oh Jesus-“ He threw his head back, putting his hand over his face, chest heaving heavily as his cock twitched in your mouth. With the way he was reacting it caused you to wonder if he’d ever actually gotten a blowjob before.

Your lips slowly slid farther down his length, taking him until it hit the back of your throat. You came back up for air before going down once more, setting a steady pace as you bobbed your head, hand reaching to gently fondle his balls which caused him to whimper.

You pressed sloppy kisses across his engorged cock as you spoke, “my poor detective, look at you, so backed up, huh? Needed this didn’t you?” He nodded pathetically “I wanna hear you say it baby.” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze. A warning.

“Oh! Oh god yes I needed it! Please fuck! Gentle baby, they're so sensitive!” He huffed out, muscles in his legs tending as he gritted his teeth.

You chuckled softly, resuming your actions to his cock, going further and gagging on him this time.

Colin moaned at not only the sound of you choking on his cock but the feeling of your warm wet mouth around him. It was truly heaven. He could die like this and be happy.

A blush painted his cheeks in a crimson flush as he tried hard to hold himself back, already feeling close. And honestly, who could blame him?

You sensed the change in him and decided to just push him further to the point of no return. Letting your tongue trace the prominent veins that stretched across his cock, throbbing with each lick.

“Such a good boy, such a good detective-“ you purred, your hand once more rubbing across his balls before stroking the base of his cock. Any second now. Any second and he would fall apart.

“Y-yeah fuck- I’m a good boy- your g-good boy-“ he gasped out, too far gone to even be embarrassed by how needy he was at the moment. He just wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Such a pretty cock, needed me so so bad-“ you traced over the tip of him with the pad of your finger and he trembled even harder.

“You’re holding back, I think you know what I want. Cum for me”. You spoke, picking up speed with your strokes.

“Cum for me detective-“

And that was all it took for Colin to finally cum into your mouth and across your face in long, thick strokes of off white milky liquid. You swallowed as much as you could before wiping your face, checking up on Colin to make sure he was doing alright.

He blinked down at you with a lazy smile on his lips. He looked and probably felt completely fucked out. 

“Jesus baby- I love you- come here- let me return the favor-“ He spoke, using all his remaining strength to pull you up into his lap to practically drag your pants and underwear off of your figure.

You hadn’t intended for your night to go this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining.