#Sen writes

[sencrose]

— ENCORE!

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

tags: exhibitionism, established relationship, toys (vibrator), idol AU (reader's an idol), praise, multiple orgasms, overstim, dacryphilia, clothed/floor sex, pet names (angel/sweetheart/princess), satoru being a wee bit possessive/mean, reader’s kinda tsun

wc: 4.6k

summary: your boyfriend wants you to put on a special show for the night, and your audience is none the wiser.

a/n: happy holidays! let's completely ignore canon together <3 i'll be free from idol AU bs one day. today is not that day. i got a tag on my blog for any idol!reader stuff involving gojo at #iettoru! if it piques your interest! special thanks to @angelbunsx and @surpassing-morning for looking over this for me <3 dividers by @/adornedwithlight

❥ ao3 link here

This was a horrible idea. Well, it still is a horrible idea, but you went along with it anyway. At the end of the day, you only really have yourself to blame, even though you would really like to split it with your boyfriend.

It took a bit of convincing, maybe a bit of guilt tripping, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a vibrator stuffed inside you as you walk onto the stage. Everything feels more intense than usual– the brightness of the stage lights, the stuffiness of the venue, the cheers of the crowd.

You inhale deeply but the words that follow come out shaky, “T-thanks for coming, everyone!” It catches you off guard, but not enough to stop talking. Your group members, however, give you a worried glance. You can’t afford to make them worry about you, not when there’s nothing worth worrying about other than your boyfriend’s perverted fantasies. So you continue, yelling into the mic as a way to hide your unsteady breathing, “We have a great show planned for tonight, so we hope you enjoy it!”

The crowd cheers, as per usual. Though this time it rumbles through you, intensifying the already overwhelming vibrations stirring you up. You don’t have much time to think about it. The start of the backing track catches you off guard, as you rush to catch up with your members’ formation. Everything feels hot, and you’re not sure what it is, the embarrassment of a rare mistake, or the vibrations rushing through your body with each step.

And though you’re struggling to keep up with the routines you’ve practiced dozens of times over, Satoru doesn’t seem to be phased. He’s business as usual, a sun bright smile plastered on his face as he yells and waves his penlight in the air. He might even be cheering louder than usual, the bastard.

Every move feels risky, like taking a block from an unsteady tower of jenga. The world’s worst game of flipping the coin. Either the vibrator will adjust inside you, press against somewhere that might make you moan, or maybe it’ll move around enough and slip out. Thinking about the latter is too much for you, so you surrender yourself to moving a bit less than usual. Focus on shining that dazzling smile to the crowd and hope they won’t see how it falters with every shift of your body.

And thankfully, it works for the first performance. You’ve never been so grateful to hear the crowd whoop and holler. Even more so that you’re not introducing the next song.

But that moment of relief is cut short. The vibrations pattern changes to something more intense, staccato pulses that make you wince with each throb. It catches you off guard, a soft moan escaping your lips before you try to cover it up with a cough, though you’re not sure it’s that convincing.

“You doing okay over there?” Your member’s voice barely registers in your ears as you rush to put on a fake smile.

“S-Sorry, I’m doing okay! Just recovering from a cold,” you reply with a shaky chuckle. Everyone seems to be content with your answer, though Satoru seems exceptionally proud of himself. It takes every bit of self control to keep your breathing steady, as your members banter amongst themselves before introducing the next song. Their speech feels like it’s going on for ages until they finally get themselves in position.

Thankfully, you’re not caught off guard this time, though the choreo’s a lot more complicated for this song. You don’t have the safety of being hidden in the back, being front and center for a good chunk of the performance. Though the audience cheers, you can see some concerned faces interspersed between the sea of penlights, some murmurs and whispers beyond what you can hear. It’s not hard to imagine what the conversation would consist of.

Even on a good day this routine would leave you breathless, but it’s on a whole other level now. It’s hard to keep your muscles clenched, terrified of having the toy slip out of you from your frenzied movements. And seriously, who thought adding this many jumps was a good idea?

But with each hit of a drum, you jump anyways, though a little less enthused than your members. Then, as if it’s a punishment for not giving enough effort, the speed of the vibrator increases. Your eyes dart to find Satoru in the audience, but he’s cheering innocently as usual, though one of his hands is dug deep in his pocket.

You’re going to kill him later.

With each move, it’s getting harder to ignore the tension building in your core. But you just have to get through this song and another before the buppan period. It’s only another ten minutes max, you can keep it together till then, you think.

Satoru plays more with the settings and you can feel him pushing the buttons for each one, carefully watching your reaction to see which is the most effective. Unfortunately for you, it’s written clearly on your face when your smile breaks and your eyes squeeze shut for a brief moment, just enough for Satoru to hone in on it.

You’ve vastly overestimated your ability to stay calm and collected. The buzzing inside you is erratic now, each pulse getting you closer to the edge. But the song is so close to being over, maybe if you just move a little less, catch a small break where you can focus on standing still, you can make it through. Though, it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel a pool forming in your underwear, the wet cotton sticking to your skin wherever you go.

It’s as if you can feel yourself developing a fever in real-time, heat boiling beneath the surface of your skin as you struggle to keep up with your members. It doesn’t help that Satoru keeps changing the vibrations to a pattern that doesn’t match the rhythm of the music, yet another added distraction. It demands your attention as if it’s a living, breathing being, gnaws and claws at your core until you finally give it what it wants.

The vibrator wins over your self-determination.

You at least have the self control to fake a cough over it, but not before your knees give out on you, trembling as you try to hold yourself back up. With every pulse, ecstasy courses through your body, small choked moans escaping your lips.

Your group members, sweet as they are, immediately come to your side to help you up, and you’re rushing back to coughing to hide the truth.

“H-Hey, you really don’t have to push yourself, you know,” she whispers to ensure the audience doesn’t hear.

You do your best to swat her away without actually hitting her, afraid she’ll be able to feel the toy vibrating through your skin and discover your dirty little secret.

“N-No, I’m fine, I can do one last song,” you get out, enunciating each syllable carefully to not spur any suspicion.

“You sure?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s just one more,” you assure her.

“Okay…” Hesitantly, she lets you recollect yourself, watching over you until you stand, give her a smile and a thumbs up.

“Sorry about that everyone, I’m okay! But this will be our last song of the night,” you announce into the mic, swiping the dust off your skirt.

You get a bit of your spirit back now that you got that out of your system. That doesn’t make the vibrations any less incessant.

Unbeknownst to the audience, it’s not a performance anymore–it’s a competition. To show Satoru you can hold it out till the end.

And with the start of the instrumental, you’re off to the races.

A thread of melodic synths weaves its way through the room, and the crowd fires off their usual chants during the introduction. It’s a nice distraction to hold you over until it’s your turn in the center. When it’s your time, you beam and sing sweetly into the mic, like it’s just your average performance. Satoru doesn’t let you go that easily, adjusting the attack pattern to diminish and swell in a way that catches you off guard.

And though it’s hard, it’s not the worst of the night. You hiccup on a note for a split second, but it seems to go unnoticed by the audience, considering how hard they’re waving their penlights. That’s one third of the song out of the way.

Even when you’re out of the spotlight, Satoru doesn’t take his eyes off you, nor does he take his fingers off the remote. Every move is an opportunity to see you break, even if it’s just a little. He does his best to find a rhythm, one that pulses with the beat of the music, and you feel it reverberating through you with each step. It’s not quite enough to make you break, but it’s enough that you’re hyper aware of it.

A frenzied mix of bass and synths meld together for the bridge, and the crowd takes it as their cue to do the appropriate chants, their yells rattling your chest almost as intensely as the vibrator. It’s bad timing to feel the heat in your core swell as you take your spot center stage for your solo with the instrumental toned down. The crowd quiets down too, a rush of soft claps pattering like butterflies filling the room. On a regular night, this display would be cute, heartwarming even. But now it only serves as a reminder that all eyes are on you, and only you.

Don’t mess up.

So you take a deep breath, gripping onto the mic like a vice. All of your focus is on the lyrics, singing them as softly and sweetly as you can. Even though the night was off to a rough start, you think you’ve redeemed yourself with this, hitting every note just right, even with the vibrator doing its best to pull your attention back to it. Back to Satoru.

You can take it easy now. It’s almost over. Just repeat the dance you've already done twice over from the other choruses.

And for once, it’s just as simple as that. The vibrating is incessant, but you’ve gotten used to it at this point, even with the occasional change in pattern. Your chest rises and falls harder than usual as you hold your finishing pose, your skin covered in beads of sweat you aren’t accustomed to.

Despite everything Satoru attempted to throw at you, you made it, and that’s all that matters. The performance is over.

For now. —

The buppan period is worse than you thought it was going to be. To your surprise, Satoru didn’t do his usual frenzied ticket buying spree and now you’re left to face the masses he usually doesn’t let you see. You don’t recognize the fan in front of you, can’t even determine if he’s a first time fan or if you’ve met him so long ago the passage of time has done your memory in.

“H-Hi, thanks for coming!” you exclaim, taking his ticket and placing it on the table.

“Thanks for the performance! I really hope you’ll feel better soon,” he remarks. The way he scratches his neck tips you off that he’s nervous.

“Aw thank you! I’m already feeling better for the most part, I’m just coughing a little here and there,” you do your best to assure him, lying through your teeth.

“Despite it all, you still did great today,” he says, whispering towards the end of his sentence.

“Thanks,” you smile, and you don’t want to admit it but you are a bit touched by his words. Quickly, you shake the thought away. Maybe you understand why Satoru monopolizes your time now. “So, did you have a pose in mind?”

“Yeah, just a hand heart, if that’s okay,” he offers, a bit hesitant, shakily playing with his hands to show you the gesture he’s thinking of.

“Sounds good!” You give him a thumbs up before leaning in a bit closer to him, just enough that your fingertips are touching. Look into the camera with your usual smile, and count down from three.

As soon as the flash of the camera dissipates, you’re hit with a rush of pulses to your core. It’s almost enough to make you keel over, a sliver of a groan escaping you as you bend over to grab your stomach.

“A-Are you okay?” he asks, his hands hovering over you wanting to help, but unsure if he should touch.

You don’t think you deserve his kindness.

“Y-Yeah, sorry, just,” you sigh, barely able to keep it together. Each pulse takes the wind out of you, gets you closer on that precipice you don’t want to experience here, not this close to a stranger, much less a fan. So, you wave the white flag for now, gritting your teeth to get the words out between deep breaths, “I think I gotta go. I’ll be back in a bit.”

–

Your absence doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. If anything, this is probably what he had in mind, push you to your limits until you just can’t take it anymore. By the time you barely have a moment to collect yourself, he’s already found you on the floor of the green room. It’s pathetic, letting him see you like this–breathless, panting, and desperate for relief.

The way he hovers over you paints him in a surreal, hazy light, as if he’s an angel coming down to save you from your strife, when he’s really the demon who put you in this scenario to begin with.

“My angel loves the attention, doesn’t she?” he asks, sickly sweet.

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you bite back, but you don’t stop him when he bends down to shuts you up with a kiss. It’s impossible to keep your voice back when he splits your legs apart with his knee, pressing up against your soaked panties while the vibrator continues to hum inside you. It’s more overwhelming than you thought, finally getting what you want and letting yourself melt into his touch. Satoru doesn’t let you savor it for too long, pulling away with a shit-eating grin.

“Feisty. Did I make you wait too long?” he sneers, pressing his forehead against yours.

You don’t give him a response, too embarrassed at the mess he’s made of you, at the way your wet underwear clings to your sticky folds.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the attention you need,” he coos, sliding his hand up your thigh to pull down your shorts and underwear.

Satoru takes his sweet time because he always enjoys seeing how restless you get over him. The way you look up at him, the hint of tears forming on your waterline while pawing at him as you silently beg for him to take care of you. He could never get sick of it. So, he gently massages your inner thigh, fingers creeping up closer to your pussy until you’re nearly crying, pleading for him to do something.

“P-Please, take it out ‘Toru,” you whine, sniffling a bit because you’re so close to being overstimulated.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers soft and low, “since you asked so nicely…” he trails off, lithe fingers pressing into your soaked cunt, but not before he has some more fun with you. Satoru takes his sweet time, letting out a little “oops” to pretend the toy is slipping from his grasp, only for his fingers to go deeper than the vibrator.

The moment you part your lips to ask him to stop is the moment he finally shows mercy and slowly pulls out the vibrator. The sudden loss of sensation is a contradiction, both welcome and not. It’s strange to have nothing inside you, it almost makes you wish something else was in there to take its place.

One thing that catches you both off guard is just how wet it is, nearly dripping with your arousal.

“Wonder if any fans noticed you’re practically leaking,” he says before licking a long stripe off the vibrator, “not that it matters, you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“It’s just sweat,” you retort, looking off to the side because you can’t stand to inflate his ego when he gets like this.

“Sure it is. Were you thinking of me up there?” he asks, following your gaze.

“Maybe,” you mumble.

“Huh? What was that?” he perks up, bringing a hand to his ear for dramatic effect.

“Toru, just put it inside already,” you huff with a soft pout.

“Wooooow,” he comments, drawing out the vowel for dramatic effect, “needy today aren’t we?”

“It’s your fault anyways,” you say, an attempt to throw the blame back at him. Still, you wrap your fingers in his shirt before pulling his body closer.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take the blame as always. For what it’s worth, you’re just as bad as me,” he comments. His fingers slide against your slick folds and you bite your lip to hold your voice back.

Satoru savors every moment he has with you, drinking in the sight of your cunt practically dripping arousal onto the floor. The more he stares, the more your face burns. No matter how many times you’ve done this, you can’t get over how attentive he is.

He sinks in a single finger, and it’s already enough to have you groaning at the sensation, to have your hips bucking into him.

“What kinda idol runs off to the green room in the middle of an event to get fucked?” Satoru teases, his finger pressing into you harder.

“Y-You’re being mean, ‘Toru,” you whine.

“You like when I’m mean,” he quips back before pressing in another finger with little resistance.

Satoru does what he always does–starts slowly, listens carefully to the way your breath hitches as he curls his fingers to find that special spot. When he gets there it’s hard not to relinquish control, as you lean back and let him take care of you. As much as he loves to listen to your moans, he likes swallowing them up too, feverishly kissing you without letting a single one slip from your lips. Satoru only pulls away from a moment to tease you.

“C’mon angel, you gotta let me know if it feels good,” he coos before picking up the pace. It’s too much, embarrassing to hear the wet squelches leaving your pussy the more he fingers you.

Every part of you runs hot as the tension that’s been simmering in your core builds to a roaring boil. Desperation overrides any rational thought as you find a rhythm and ride his fingers, nearly drooling as you feel your muscles tensing up. You’re so close, and he knows it too, because Satoru’s kisses always get messier when you get close to cumming.

“T-Toru, please,” you whine between moans, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“I know, I know,” he coos before giving you a soft peck on the cheek, “let it all out for me, sweetheart.”

It’s as if he knows your body better than you as the tension in your core finally snaps as you cum on his fingers. Satoru being the fiend he is, continues fucking you through it, pushing his fingers in harder when you inevitably clench around him.

“Too much, too much, ‘Toru,” you cry, attempting to grab his wrist but he simply pushes himself deeper into your cunt.

“One more? I know my princess wants another,” he teases before kissing you to cut off of any chance of a response. It’s not like you would be able to give him an answer anyways, not when his fingers play with you so easily, his lips greedily stealing every one of your breaths and moans for himself.

One thing about Satoru is that he likes to overindulge. Likes when you’re extra loud and needy for him, seeing the pleasure written plainly on your face when he fucks you, whether that’s with his fingers, his tongue, his dick, or anything else he can get his hands on. But that makes him insatiable in some aspects, when he makes you cum on his fingers multiple times before he’ll even entertain the prospect of fucking you properly.

Can you really blame him? He just wants to feel all your love for him dripping down his cock. Maybe even make you cry a little because you just look too cute when you do, and even cuter when you sniffle as he wipes your tears and kisses them. It sets off something in him.

But it’s also hard to keep up with him. When you grip onto his hand and try to pull his fingers out because it’s too much, he simply wraps his arm around your waist and keeps you from escaping. Satoru’s determination is a wild animal that can’t be tamed, especially when it comes to you.

It always pays off for him, but that means it pays off for you as well. Though, you’re in tears when he rips another orgasm out of you, your moans too deafening to quell with a kiss. Your legs involuntarily squeeze close as Satoru gets you near the edge of ache and overstimulation, but he uses his other hand to split them open, watching closely how your pussy convulses and flutters around his fingers as you come undone. Only when you finally come down from your high does he slow down, examining just how much you soaked his hand.

“You didn’t have to go so hard, Satoru,” you scoff when he finally gives you a break.

“Just gotta make sure you’re all prepped for me,” he mewls, pulling out his fingers from your messy cunt. They glisten under the fluorescent lighting, before Satoru shamelessly sucks on them before releasing it with a pop.

“Don’t have to go all above and beyond on me,” you mumble, a bit embarrassed at his shamelessness even though it’s just the two of you in the room.

“But my angel only deserves the best,” he says, voice low and sultry. Hastily, he’s stumbling over himself to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants before palming himself over the fabric. That doesn’t last long before he finally frees his cock, already hard and raring to go.

Satoru pulls up your skirt to your waist before slotting himself between your legs. Even still, he teases you, tapping his cockhead on your slick folds and letting out a whistle when a thread of your arousal sticks to him before thinning out and breaking.

“T-Toru, please,” your voice breaks with each tap of his cock against your cunt, the desire to be filled up driving you to the edge of tears.

“Please what?”

“Put it inside already,” you beg with a pout.

“Whatever you say, princess,” he coos before pressing the tip of his cock against your hole, and both of you moan when he bottoms out quicker than usual, thanks to all his hard work. Satoru holds your head in his hands as he pumps into you with a steady rhythm, each stroke punctuated with a hard snap of his hips.

“Fuck, you really are made just for me, aren’t you?” he pants breathily, before planting a wet kiss on your neck.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, not that he really needs one. With his mouth elsewhere, your lips are free to spill all the moans it wants, and they’re abundant. It’s music to Satoru’s ears, as he hums in delight while biting down on your shoulder.

“Can’t be so loud angel, the others’ll hear you,” he teases, as if that isn’t his dream come true. His lips press into yours, and you don’t hesitate to give him the opening he wants. Satoru kisses you sloppily, spit and drool mixing with yours before spilling from the sides of your mouth.

“Is that what you want? Want your fans to know what a pervert you are?”

“No, no, no,” you protest, shaking your head with a tinge of guilt in your chest. You can only imagine the shock your fans and members would have if they ever knew about this happening just a handful of meters away. But that concern disappears as fast as it came when Satoru turns on the vibrator again and plants it against your clit. Your body writhes from the simulation suddenly being introduced again, but Satoru is unrelenting, keeping it right against the sensitive bundle of nerves no matter how much you move.

“It’s okay, I’ll keep your secret,” he says softly, almost gentle, contrary to the position he currently has you in.

Satoru adjusts and presses your legs as far back as he can before he starts building a merciless pace. The weight of his body against yours is suffocating, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he hits your deepest parts from this angle.

“Fuck, you’re getting close, aren’t you? Can tell from the way you’re squeezing me,” he groans, his voice getting breathier with each word, “you wanna cum, sweetheart?”

“P-Please make me cum, ‘Toru,” you pant out.

Satoru answers by frantically thrusting his hips into you, hitting your deepest points at a pace that’s dizzying. Words are the last thing on your mind, too fucked out and crying from how good it feels. You don’t even protest when Satoru bites down on your neck, even harder than before. All you give him is a drawn out whine as he sucks on the skin and with how intense he’s being, it’s definitely going to leave a mark.

It doesn’t matter. All you can focus on is tightening your muscles, preparing yourself for your fourth climax of the night. Satoru is merciless, thrusting into you like an animal functioning on a base desire to breed. The sound of skin-to-skin slapping fills the room, nearly muffling your own babbled cries as you get close. The tension in your core builds and builds until it snaps and crashes into you like a tidal wave, deep and full-bodied.

Your nails dig into his chest when he continues to fuck you through it like he always does, thighs trembling as your walls convulse and flutter around his cock. Satoru curses under his breath as his pace slackens, your orgasm being a precursor to his own. Despite him making a mess of you, he’s just the same as you when he’s cumming, maybe even worse–desperately humping into you and repeatedly whispering “I love you” and moaning until his hips finally give out.

Satoru digs himself deeper into you as he cums, making sure you can feel all of his love for you in the hot ropes of white that paint your insides. After he’s emptied all that he can inside of you, he finally dismounts and gives your body the chance to recover.

You barely take a moment to recollect yourself, still panting and sweating from the intense orgasm when Satoru uncharacteristically rushes to get his clothes back on.

“What are you doing?” you ask, still out of breath.

“Going back out. I still have these to redeem,” he says matter-of-factly. Satoru rummages through his pockets before brandishing a handful of cheki tickets, all with your likeness smothered on them. Before you can even offer up a response, he gives you a peck on the cheek. “You’re not going to keep me waiting, are you?”

[fragilecapric0rnn]

[series now cross-posted to ao3! stay tuned for more! ] Have been watching a lot FRIENDS lately bc its one of my and my gf's comfort shows and, of course, i cannot stop thinking about Stranger Things-ifying the hell out of it. the vision came to me SO CLEARLY [PART 2]

Sitting around the coffee shop that is basically a second home to the gang.

Nancy sits on the chair across from Argyle, one leg tucked under her, legal pad balancing on the arm, a pen being held between her pointer and middle finger, tapping incessantly on the pad. The other hand tucked into a fist and holding up her chin.

Argyle sits with his legs draped over the arm of the oversized chair, flipping through the latest Steven King book, one arm perched behind his head.

Jonathan has the NYT crossword in his lap, Robin peering over his shoulder, making him nervous.

A normal Saturday afternoon routine for the group of twentysomethings. The rain from outside softly hits the windows nearby, complimenting the soft chatter and gentle clanking of dishes.

But Robin can only seem to focus on Nancy's damn tapping.

"Nance?"

"Hm?"

"I'm gonna need you to stop tapping. I'm trying to beat Jonathan's puzzle."

"Just take it," he hands the paper over to her, annoyed.

"No! It's more fun when it feels like I'm beating you."

Jonathan looks over at Nancy, who is staring blankly at the wooden support beam a few feet away.

"What's going on Nance?"

"Nothing." Her pitch high, grabbing the rest of the groups attention, so much so that they all inch closer to her chair.

"Sounds like a whole lotta nothing," Argyle pulls a nearby chair up next to hers flipping it around and resting his forearms on the back of it.

Robin sits on the ground next to her and Jonathan takes a seat on the coffee table right in front of her.

"Fine!" She takes a look over her shoulder, toward the front door. "I have a date."

"Why are we whispering?" Argyle asks, also whispering.

"Because you know who could walk in any second."

"Why are we whispering and speaking in codes?" Jonathan asks, still whispering.

And as an act of divine timing, the front door to the coffee shop opens, and they all turn their heads to see a slightly damp Eddie shake his hair out and shed his leather jacket in one fell swoop. His face fixed in the same frown that's plagued his face for the last two weeks.

"Hey," the group says in unison, not moving a muscle from where they're still crowded around Nancy.

"What did I say about that tone," Eddie whines, flopping himself down on the couch that previously held Jon and Robin.

"How're you doing?" Robin asks, shifting her body, still sitting on the floor, toward him.

"All of her stuff is gone which means that all of my stuff is gone."

No one says a thing. Not even when the sound of a ceramic coffee cup shatters somewhere in the distance.

"Eddie?"

"What?"

"I don't mean to sound insensitive dude, but shouldn't you be a little less depressed considering... " Argyle trails off.

"Considering what?"

"Considering you're the one that left her?" Robin finishes the thought that everyone is having.

"I didn't leave her." He scoffs.

"No, but when you tell your long-term girlfriend about recently discovering that you're gay, one might see that as you being the one to end that relationship."

"We've been over this." He balls up his jacket and shoves his face into the wet leather. The group share a look, Nancy gesturing to Eddie's state as if to say this is why I'm not talking about the date.

He chucks the balled up jacket at Jonathan, who kicks his feet out in surprise as he catches it with his chest. Eddie's hands are now on either side of his face.

"The love was there! I could've loved her if..."

"If she was someone else?"

He deflates, lets his arms slump down and his shoulders do the same.

"Eddie, my friend, my pal, listen up." Argyle moves seats for the third time, now squeezing himself into the space between Eddie and the arm rest on the couch, draping his arm over his shoulders.

"You have just entered a whole new world, my man. So, you're gay? We're in New York City, so is everyone! Welcome home! All that love you were ready to give to Michelle? You get to hold onto that and give it to someone else. Someone who makes your heart sing."

"But I knew her just as long as I knew you guys." He whines, again, gesturing to Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. "It was easy. It was safe. How am I ever gonna find romance with someone? Where we have an established - I don't know - thing! A connection! A history! How?"

Eddie stares at them like he expects them to answer, forcing the rest of the group to share glances, let the air settle with Eddie's words.

The front door flies open just as a roaring thunder booms overhead, making for a dramatic entrance.

Robin's the first one to swivel her head toward the ruckus, the only one who has a perfect view of the person who burst into the shop.

A man dressed in a tux, drenched, like, just hopped out of a swimming pool drenched. Fighting with his bow tie with one hand and running his other hand through the unforgettable head of hair that sends Robin right back to Hawkins, Indiana. Back to the summer before her senior year.

Huh?

Unable to move a muscle in her body, she watches him clumsily go up to the counter and ask for her and Nancy, by name. The sound of her name sends her up to her feet and pushes her toward the man. An air of chaos surrounds him, drawing an offense amount of curiosity out of Robin as she finds her words.

"Steve Harrington?"

He turns around, his face lights up, and he does the weirdest thing.

He hugs her.

She remains stiff as he pulls back from the hug, hands still on either side of her arms.

They were buddies that summer scooping ice cream at the mall. Nothing crazy, or maybe even that memorable, but they started the summer as acquaintances at best and left as friends.

But then he left for college and she stayed and they never spoke again. A few run-ins here and there. But nothing substantial.

"I knew I'd find you here, I remembered that the last time I was in the city I ran into you guys and you're here!" He sounds drunk, but also like he drank a vat of espresso.

Clearly, it was substantial enough for him to come looking for her. Dressed in a tux soaking wet?

"And you're here, overdressed." She says, taking him in, unable to unscrew the confused look from her face.

Is that a boutonnières?

Oh no. Oh fuck.

"Steve?" Jonathan and Nancy say in unison as Robin brings him over to the couch.

Robin thinks Eddie might have summoned the ghost of hopeless high school crushes past, the way Eddie looks like he's just seen a ghost.

[senoleaf]

Golden Soul and Silver Heart

Chapter 2: Silver Heart

Short Summary:

Behind a usually non-existent door a creature lies, waiting. Luring flies into its trap under the pretense of humanity.

A golden soul is the first fly to get caught—paying a bitter price for having been too naive and confident.

A silver heart is the second fly to get caught—paying a bitter price for not having been faster, for not having been more honest.

— — —

my take on how the story about Strangled Red (Door's Open) intersects with the creepypasta Lost Silver. also includes Insomnia Silver (Hypno's Lullaby).

Gold and Silver are in their early 20s in this fic.

written with the help of my best friend Tallulah Bangkok who also beta-read for me!!

— — —

Chapter Summary:

Unable to quell his worries, Silver makes his way to Sprout Tower in hopes of arriving in time to save Gold from his own recklessness.

Chapter Wordcount: +6000

Chapter Count: (2/2)

please beware the warnings in the tags on AO3!

[gaepublishinghouse]

Apotheosis [ Wanderer x GN!Reader]

╭ ─┉─!! • !!─┉─ ╮

Tags : implied nsfw, crying (on Wanderer's part), angst with a bit of comfort, friends with benefits to maybe lovers

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

–

It was by virtue of the day’s bitterness that the two of you found yourselves in this position. Call it blowing off steam or a mutual yearning for the comfort of touch, though the Wanderer would never claim the latter, but you both needed it and you both needed it badly. 

You and your travel companion stifled gasps and moans behind the thin curtain of the tent, still instinctively cautious with each other and the outside looking in despite the nearest civilization being a day’s travel away. His hands were planted on either side of your head, eyes usually dull with boredom or burning with hate now glowing faintly in the shroud of your shelter as his hips rocked in tandem with yours as if the friction and heat between you would burn away the emptiness, the cursed gnawing emptiness that threatened to creep back in. It helped, as much as he liked to think he was a god above the needs and pleasures that were so painfully human.

Your fingers brushed against his cheeks, cold like porcelain but soft and rapidly warming under your touch. His lips looked soft and painted with the pink of a cherry blossom, even when it was pressed in a thin line of irritation, and especially now parted with laboured breaths. He couldn’t answer why he made those noises, why he felt like he needed to breathe when you were in his arms. Everything about how he felt about you was an enigma that he picked at like a healing wound, splitting open and wondering at the ichor that bled forth. The Wanderer always loved how blood looked as much as he detested how it reminded him of mortality.

You can tell he was lost in his thoughts again, stuck in the warring memories of a version of himself that for all intents and purposes never existed. You slid a hand up to his hair and pulled him down to your level. He would have chewed you out for daring to handle him like that if it was not for how he was suddenly much more focused on how your lips felt against his, how they seemed to slot together in a way that was hot and messy and entirely too raw but something he felt like made his hollow chest feel a little less empty. His eyes closed and he pressed closer, aching for more, more warmth, more of you.

Your cheeks felt wet and it took a long moment to realize that they weren’t your tears.

—

Wanderer doesn’t mention it as the two of you get cleaned up at your respective corners of the tent, backs to each other as you both dressed back into your rumpled clothing. In the heat of the moment, it looked like your piles had gotten mixed up and his Vision laid pleasantly cool against your palm. You walked over to him as he absently tied the sashes of his robes and as he saw the Vision in your hand, his eyes went wide and he clasped his hand around it, and in the process around yours. His eyes don’t leave your hands and after a moment of lingering, he took it from your grip and clasped it back to his chest. The tension in his shoulders drained ever so slightly, though he still kept a hand over the shimmering Vision, futile in his attempt to keep the warmth of your hold from fading in the cold night. It was no match for how cold he seemed to treat you after all that. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, and it was hard to tell if it was you or the remnants of the astringent tea you tasted on his lips.

“I’m sorry.” You ended up saying, unable to think of anything else. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I know that wasn’t part of our… deal.”

Wanderer snorted and crossed his arms, refusing to meet your eyes. He was always easier to read than he would like to admit, and you could tell that somehow hurt him. “The audacity to say such a thing. To think I considered you less foolish than the common herd.”

“Kuni–”

“Forget it,” he snapped, eyes flashing in the dark for a completely different reason. “We both want to. You did something stupid and it’s obvious you regret it, so we can both pretend it never happened.”

“But I meant it.” You argue, “I wanted to, for a long time now. I just… I didn’t mean to hurt you because of it.”

His hand came up unconsciously, fingers brushing over where his face was wiped raw to get rid of those tears as soon as he was aware of them. Wanderer sneered and tightened his hand in a fist, anger in his eyes. “I don’t need your pity. That didn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t mean you get to treat me like I’m weak.”

You took his hands and for a moment, the tension under your touch made you think he would yank himself away once more, but an earnest look from you had him second-guessing. He looked away once more, his expression hard. 

You recall a story shared between sips of bitter ice wine and the warmth of a campfire once upon a quiet night. Something about it made Wanderer looser with his words, and you learn of his past life. How he was born with the image of God and as he wept like any other babe, he was deemed too weak to house the glory of Eternity. How he shed tears of anger and betrayal as his friend broke his promise under no fault of his own, but of the cruelty of mortality and the fragility of life.

"It didn't bring him back." Wanderer murmured past the lip of the bottle, staring impassively into the fire. "Of course it didn't. All that crying has brought me nothing but broken promises and pain on my side alone."

In the present, he had that same rueful expression pointed anywhere but you. And in that moment, you understood why you saw that inkling of fear. That resigned pain.

You shifted your grip on his hands and gently intertwined your fingers, tightening carefully but firmly. Finally his gaze snapped to you.

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, I promise." you murmured, feeling his fingers twitch as they warm under your heat. "Not until you want to get rid of me. And even then, I might fight back a little."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed and he grit his teeth, tears spilling down pale cheeks. "You… promise. You know what that means. If you break it, I'll… I'll kill you. I'll rip you to pieces and the world will forget that anyone with your name ever existed. You hear me?"

As you held him close, his grip tightened painfully, yet you couldn't bring yourself to do anything but squeeze him back just as hard. The promises made that night were kept safely tucked in the quiet twilight and in the morning, Wanderer jeered at you for sleeping in, but his grin was a little softer in his eyes.

[sendryl]

@jasminedragoon

Here ya go beastie!

It's not finished, but I just gotta do it.

[leavingsunsets]

Frolicking in the long grass field during sunset. The golden rays hitting the grass perfectly, making it glow a vibrant yellow.

They dance around happily, twirling in glee. You can't help but watch from a distance, soft breaths steady as you stare at them from afar.

They're laughing so happily, clothes ruffling in the light breeze. You can't help but notice how the sun light hits them at just the right angle, and the way the golden glow of the grass gives them such a vibrant hue.

For a moment, time is forgotten, and all you see is the sun.

A big goofy grin on their face, sounds of happiness sung from their lips like a melody. Eyes curving in mirth, and shining utter joy.

"Ah."

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, cheeks flushing red.

"I'm an idiot."

For the first time in years, you felt your heart beat to life.

[fuji-sen]

Monachopsis; SAGAU Creator!Reader Headcanon

Monachopsis: the subtle feeling of being out of place.

c/w: angst, homesickness, slight cult genshin impact characters.

synopsis: The adrenaline and excitement had worn off, what replaced it was a sense of detachment and the feeling of homesick-ness slowly building up. No longer feeling joy at being treated like a God in your favorite game, you could only feel that subtle but persistent feeling that you did not belong there coupled with the sadness and grief at your past life.

divider credits: @enchanthings

✨ you wonder how things became like this, perhaps it was because you were constantly detained and kept inside a lavish palace, unable to see the outside world.

✨ or perhaps it was how your acolytes treat you.

✨ they did not harm you, but they might as well have all together.

✨ they treat you so full of devotion and reverence. Their touches stiff and light never holding you for longer than it is necessary, their manner of speech was always formal, never jovial even the bard of Mondstadt had a more serious and deep persona when it came to you.

✨ although their goal was simply to respect you for you were their supposed Creator, that very devotion towards you became the very wall that separated you from them.

✨ you could not get close to them, you could not pass that damned relationship between a Creator and a faithful believer.

✨ Furina had been closed to you at least, perhaps because she understood your plights. However your relationship seemed sinful in the eyes of the other acolyte.

✨ you no longer were able to see the cheerful girl.

✨ Buer or Nahida who's ability to read minds and the hearts of people worked on you, but it seemed she had learned from Fontaine's leader, she did not get close to you, however she left more sincere gifts for you.

✨ handwritten letters, books with annotations, even Aranara's were given to you on the guise of being servants.

✨ speaking of gifts, wealth, gems, lavish furniture, clothes made from the rarest fur and the softest silk had been presented to you. At first it made you overjoyed, to received the things you had long for, to become rich and wealthy.

✨ now seeing the pile of untouched presents all you could feel was cold, it was impersonal really. The clothes did not suit you, the gems and gold were useless for you could not even go out to spend it, the furniture as well for it was too big for you to used by yourself and you lacked the friends to even sit together with and have a chat.

✨ however upon seeing your favor towards the dendro archon's gifts, they tried to follow in suit. Yet their letters were simply filled with compliments of your visage, poems and tales about how great you were, talking about you as if you were a historical person they had studied and were doing a greatly embellished report on but never truly getting to know you.

✨ to fight off the feeling of sadness that began to wallow in you, you asked for them, desperately, "treat me as your friend, if you truly love me as your God then treat me how I want to be treated." you'd say.

✨ they looked at each other, before carefully and hesitantly agreeing.

✨ now you felt guilty, they spend their times on you. Chatting with you, telling you stories.

✨ you feast together, with food made by Xiangling and other characters.

✨ but even as they surround you, their conversations became white noise to you and the food seemed tasteless under your tongue.

✨ you did not feel like you belong among them. especially with that nagging voice in your head, snickering and whispering that 'they aren't your friends, they're just acting like it all because their precious Creator begged them to.'

✨ In the past, or your past life, doing something for yourself, by yourself seemed like a chore. The mundane chores, your job, studying even, but now that seemed like a luxury with the title of God.

✨ they did not ask you to do anything, you did not participate in state of the nation addresses, you could not change laws or fight for the people. . at least they didn't let you.

✨ you could not even clean your own room or dress yourself, Noelle took care of the cleaning, Chiori took care with choosing a set of clothes each day for you to wear like you were a kid and Xiangling did the cooking.

✨ It left you with nothing to do, like you had no purpose other than sitting still and looking pretty like a piece of decoration.

✨ Nobody disagreed with you even, nobody argued with you, they were like yes-men. God you began to miss your parents and siblings, you missed your classmates/coworkers, you missed working, you missed being your own person!

✨ it was beginning to eat you up at this point,

✨ to the point you had became overwhelmed with sadness.

might make a mini-headcanon series for this or an actual series revolving around this idea/angst.

do you want a series like this tho? it'd be heavily angst and might just have a bad ending or good ending.

[yuutaok]

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Spring Leaves, But I Never Will

Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

In the eerie mountain forest, you seek to find what is missing. Lost and disoriented, you encounter a mysterious boy with eyes like the dead, his presence is captivating. With a gentle hand, he beckons you, and you follow.

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Word Count: ~4.4K

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), P in V, AFAB! Reader, prone bone, unprotected sex, creampies, posessiveness, supernatural/paranormal stuff happens, open-ended ending, Reader is lost in a forest and meets Yuuta, Yuuta is a freak

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Author's note: Hiii I am back with a vengeance. Belated birthday fic for Yuuta ♡ Life exploded me so I never got the chance to finish until now. Also, I would like to thank Sen (@/ banjjakz) for inspiring some of the horror aspects of this <3 They have such a lovely way of writing such mysterious horror that I deeply wanted to try my hand at, so please go read their Yuuta fics bc they are sooooo delicious ok I'll stop swooning now byeeeeee

Lost amidst the dense, foreboding forests of the mountains, you trudged forward, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the winding trail. Your heart felt heavy with the weight of recent events, the memory of your painful breakup still fresh in your mind. It had only been a couple of days, of course your heart would still hurt and your hands would still shake. And still, the need to escape, to clear your head and find solace amidst the solitude of nature, had driven you to embark on this day-hike alone.

The townsfolk often whispered about this mountain as a haunt for the heartbroken.

And so, here you were.

The hike was pleasant. You took the time to leisurely look at every interesting formed rock or beautiful sprouting flower that you had stumbled upon. Spring had just begun and it felt nice to be in the calm serenity of nature. You took care to not stray too far from the beaten path but still found your way crunching through the trees to look at specimens that caught your eye. It was a great way to get your mind off of things, to forget about life for just a moment.

But now, as the sky darkened and the woods grew eerily silent around you, regret gnawed at the edges of your resolve. Perhaps venturing into the wilderness alone had been a mistake, a reckless act born of heartache. Panic tightened its grip on your chest as you realized that dusk was fast approaching, and you had yet to find your way back to civilization.

With each step you took through the dense undergrowth of the forest, the sense of urgency weighed heavy on your shoulders. Nervously, you glanced at the sky, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower, casting long shadows that danced ominously through the trees. Hope flickered like a dying flame within you, faltering as the daylight waned faster than anticipated.

Your mind wandered to the rumors that had long circulated about the mountain, tales of heartbroken souls seeking solace among the towering trees, only to vanish without a trace.

It was said that the forest held secrets whispered confessions etched into the bark of the old oak trees, and love letters left behind by those who had come seeking solace from their pain. But these were not ordinary declarations of affection; they were haunting, twisted reflections of despair, each word filled with grief, obsession, and heartbreak. You have heard people say that love is the worst curse of all.

Some claimed to have heard mournful voices echoing through the woods, the ghostly whispers of lovers calling out into the darkness, their cries fading into gusts of wind and rustling leaves. Others spoke of strange symbols carved into the earth, cryptic messages left behind by those who had succumbed to the forest's embrace.

You still had decided to come, despite the unsubstantiated rumors that were whispered by the old grannies in the surrounding town. You’d be damned if you suffocated under the weight of your heartache. But as you delved deeper and deeper into the forest, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched— honestly, maybe the old ladies knew something you didn’t.

Panic clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to consume you whole. Desperate, you called out into the silent woods, your voice echoing into the vast expanse of darkness that surrounded you, “Hello…? Is anybody out there? Can anyone hear me?”

But the only response was the feeling of eyes on the back of your head and the haunting whisper of the wind through the branches, carrying with it a sense of desolation that chilled you to the bone.

With each passing moment, the forest seemed to close in around you, its shadows stretching like grasping fingers eager to ensnare their prey. You were never quite fond of the dark.

Heart pounding, you broke into a run, stumbling through the underbrush in a frantic search for anything familiar. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs beneath your feet sent a jolt of fear coursing through your veins, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you raced against the encroaching darkness.

And then, just as panic threatened to consume you whole, you burst through a thicket of bushes, only to collide with an unexpected figure standing in your path. The air left your lungs as you fell flat on your ass.

You looked up at what, or who, you had just crashed head-on into.

It was a boy, his dark eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as he regarded you with an enigmatic smile, despite you just pummeling into him with your full force. The shock of the encounter left you speechless, frozen in place as the realization dawned that you were not alone in the woods after all.

You made eye contact with the stranger, and a chill swept through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. His dark hair fell in tousled waves, framing his pale face in an unsettling contrast. His tired eyes bore into you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. A curtain of bangs parted across his forehead, framing his features in a shadowy veil. His lips twisted into a smile and held a hint of something that lurked just beneath the surface.

There was an undeniable aura of unease that surrounded the boy, a sense of foreboding that lingered in the air like a haunting melody. As he extended a hand towards you, offering salvation in the darkness, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeply unsettling about him.

"Are you lost?" he asked, his voice low and soothing. "It's dangerous to be out here alone at night. I can lead you to safety."

You looked up at the stranger incredulously, as if you would be dumb enough to follow a stranger you met out in the woods!

Sending your apprehension, the raven-haired boy smiles kindly, “I promise, I don’t bite. Please, it’s getting late and I don’t think I could live with myself if I left you out here by yourself.”

Weighing out your options, you realized that maybe this was your best choice. It’s either that or freezing out in the woods, or better yet being eaten by some wild animal that you hardly can find yourself against.

You looked around, dazed. With darkness closing in around you and no other options in sight, you accepted his offer.

“Alright,” you sighed. “But please don’t try anything, I’ve been told I have a killer right hook.”

He looks at you, obviously amused, “Of course, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

And begrudgingly you had to admit, despite everything in your body screaming for you to keep running, you felt completely and utterly relieved to see him.

As you followed the raven-haired boy deeper into the woods, the sense of unease only intensified, wrapping around you like a suffocating cloak. "Where are we going?" you finally asked, your voice trembling slightly with apprehension.

His dark eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion as he turned to face you, his expression guarded yet strangely calm. "To my cabin," he replied, his voice low and steady. "It's not far from here. You'll be safe there for the night. You can rest for as long as you need to."

Though his words offered reassurance, there was a lingering doubt in the back of your mind. You had heard stories of people disappearing in these woods, never to be seen again, and the thought sent a chill down your spine.

There was something about the dark-haired man that unsettled you, something that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath his calm exterior. And even so, something about him drew you in, made you feel so immediately safe with him.

"Who are you?" you pressed, your voice wavering with a mix of fear and curiosity. "And why were you out here alone?"

Yuuta hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "My name is Yuuta Okkotsu," he said finally, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I live in the woods, away from civilization. As for why I was out here...let's just say I have my reasons."

His cryptic response only fueled your apprehension, but as the darkness closed in around you and the sound of rustling leaves filled the air, you realized that you had little choice but to trust him, at least for now. With a nod of reluctant acceptance, you followed Yuuta deeper into the woods, praying that you had not just made a grave mistake.

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

His cabin appeared suddenly, a rustic structure nestled amidst the towering trees, its windows glowing with the warm light of a fire within.

"I don't usually invite strangers into my home," Yuuta admitted, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. "But I can't leave you out here alone. You're welcome to stay until morning." Though grateful for his offer of shelter, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud.

There was something about Yuuta's demeanor, a subtle intensity in his gaze, that sent shivers down your spine.

You stepped into Yuuta's cabin, grateful for the warmth and shelter it offered. The cozy interior enveloped you in a comforting embrace, dispelling some of the tension that had gripped you since your encounter in the woods. It was humorous actually, how warm the cabin felt in comparison to the uneasiness its owner gave you.

“Home sweet home,” Yuuta said as he took your coat and nodded his head for you to follow him.

Yuuta wasted no time in playing the role of a gracious host, offering you a change of clothes and access to his shower. His bathroom was neat, he didn’t have much, just the basics, but it was still appreciated nonetheless.

As the hot water washed away the dirt and grime of the forest, you felt a sense of relaxation seeping into your bones, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves.

Emerging from the shower feeling refreshed and revitalized. You found Yuuta busy in the kitchen, a delicious aroma of spices and savory delights wafting through the air.

As you peered over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the bubbling pot on the stove, filled with rich, fragrant curry. The sight stirred memories of comforting meals shared with loved ones, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. "That smells amazing," you murmured, your mouth watering at the thought of indulging in the hearty dish.

Yuuta glanced up from his cooking, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's just a simple curry," he said modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. "But I find that simple comforts are often the most satisfying."

You offered to help, eager to contribute to the meal in some way, but Yuuta shook his head gently. "No need to trouble yourself," he insisted, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to take a seat at the table. "Relax and settle down. I'll take care of everything."

Though you hesitated for a moment, the warmth of Yuuta's demeanor and the promise of a delicious meal were too enticing to resist. With a grateful smile, you sank into a chair, content to watch as Yuuta worked his culinary magic, the comforting rhythm of his movements lulling you into a sense of peace and contentment.

As you settled into Yuuta's cabin, you couldn't help but take in your surroundings with a sense of curiosity. The interior was simple yet cozy, with polished wooden floors that creaked softly underfoot and walls adorned with faded photographs and intricate tapestries.

The cabin had a rustic charm to it, its bare furnishings lending an air of simplicity to the space. Yet, despite its minimalistic design, everything seemed meticulously arranged, each item in its rightful place. There was a sense of order and precision that spoke to Yuuta's meticulous nature, a trait that you found oddly comforting.

On the shelves lining the walls, you noticed an eclectic array of books, their well-worn spines bearing the marks of countless readings. From classic literature to obscure texts on folklore and mysticism, the collection spoke of a curious mind.

Nearby, a shelf displayed a collection of handmade erasers, their vibrant colors and whimsical shapes. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of these charming little creatures. There was a sense of warmth and homeliness to Yuuta's cabin that made you feel strangely at ease. It was as if the space itself radiated a sense of comfort and belonging, welcoming you with open arms into its cozy embrace.

Before you knew it, the food was done and Yuuta served you a steaming plate.

“Thank you for the meal,” you said, nervous.

“It’s my pleasure,” Yuuta replied.

With the two of you sitting down to eat, you found yourself opening up to Yuuta in a way you hadn't expected. You told him about your recent breakup, the pain and heartache that had driven you to seek solace in the wilderness.

Yuuta listened attentively, his dark eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that surprised you. "It's dangerous to be out in the woods alone," he said softly, his voice tinged with a note of concern. "Who knows what evils could be lurking in the darkness? I'm glad I found you when I did." A chill ran down your spine.

Though he had shown you nothing but kindness, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of anxiety that crept up around Yuuta's presence. He was good company, however, and you worked hard to ignore the way your hands clammed up and each hair on your skin stood up when he leaned in closer to speak with you. You chalked it up to your nerves.

The two of you continued to converse, him asking you more about your life and you asking about his. As Yuuta shared snippets of his past, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn't quite explain. There was a sort of charm to him, an undeniable allure. Despite the lingering doubts that were dancing in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the attraction you had towards him. You felt like a moth catching fire as it approached an open flame.

With a sigh, Yuuta leaned back against the cushions, his gaze drifting to the dancing flames of his fireplace as if lost in thought. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, melodic murmur that sends shivers down your spine, "I wasn't always a hermit living in the woods." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken sorrow.

"What happened?" you ventured softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, to not disturb the mood.

Yuuta's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of sadness lurking in the depths of his dark eyes. "I used to live in the city, surrounded by noise and chaos," he admitted, his words tinged with bitterness. "But... I lost someone very dear to me." His voice trailed off, grief etched into the lines of his face.

"She was my childhood sweetheart," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as if speaking the words aloud pains him. "We were inseparable, bound together by pure, untainted, love.”

A heavy silence fell between you, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the wind outside. "She was taken from me," Yuuta murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "And I... I couldn't bear to stay in that world any longer."

As he spoke, you sensed the weight of his sorrow pressing down on him, a burden too heavy for one mere person to bear alone. "I tried to move on, to forget her and the pain of losing her," Yuuta admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But no matter how hard I tried, I could never escape the memories of our time together."

“So I left," he confessed, "I left everything behind and retreated into the solitude of the forest, hoping to find something to fill the hole in my heart.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his sorrow, and you could not help but feel a surge of empathy for the man before you. At that moment, you realize that Yuuta and you are not so different after all, both haunted by heartbreak, seeking solace in the expanse of trees. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your desires, a longing for connection and understanding.

But even as your heart yearned to unravel the secrets hidden within Yuuta’s dark and mangled heart, a sense of unease lingered at the edges of your consciousness. There was still something unsettling about the way the shadows seemed to dance around him, as if alive with an energy of their own. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on…

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

As the night stretched on, the air thick with a palpable tension, you felt a strange sense of drowsiness wash over you. Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion as you let out a quiet yawn.

With a soft smile, Yuuta reached out to you. His was touch gentle, yet firm, possessive even. You felt yourself lean into his touch as if he weaved an invisible spell around you.

"You look tired," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that seemed to echo with the whispers of the forest itself. "Come with me, let me take care of you."

His words washed over you like a warm embrace, dispelling the last glimmers of doubt and fear as you allow yourself to be guided by his steady hand. With a silent nod, you allowed Yuuta to lead you to the bedroom, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a protective shield as you sank into the soft embrace of the bed.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting shadows across the walls like dancing spirits. He leaned over you, his body flush against yours, his hand steady and reassuring against your skin.

As you lay there, the haze of drowsiness clouding your senses, you felt Yuuta begin to pull away. You grasped at the hem of his shirt, silently begging him not to go.

His features were veiled by the shroud of night, his smile, though unseen, seemed to materialize in the darkness. With a gentle pull, you drew him down to lay beside you.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yuuta's voice, a soft murmur, caressed your ear as his head nestled against your shoulder.

"Yes," you found yourself pleading, the words slipping from your lips in a whispered plea. "Don't leave."

Yuuta's lips brushed gently against your neck, his touch tender yet possessive. "I won’t,” he murmured, “I won’t ever leave,” his voice a velvet whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,”

In your sleepy state, you found yourself melting into his touch. Yuuta's kisses trailed a path of fire along your skin. Each kiss was a feather-light caress that seeped into each layer of your skin, burning you from the inside out.

Slowly, he moved up your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake as he explored every inch of your skin with adoration.

As Yuuta's lips found their way to your jaw, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, lost in the dizzying whirlwind that you now understood as Yuuta Okkotsu.

His movements were calm and deliberate, his touch gentle yet commanding as he explored every curve and contour of your body with dedicated devotion. Each touch left you yearning for more. You would die if it meant you could feel this loved forever.

Soon enough, Yuuta’s lips found yours, his kisses both tender and possessive, his passion evident in the way he claimed your lips.

As his lips danced with yours, you found yourself with the thought of never being apart from him. It filled you with a sense of completion. You could feel the depth of his devotion. Could he feel yours?

As if to answer your question, Yuuta’s touch became more urgent, his hands roaming over your body with a ravenous hunger. You felt happy that you could be consumed so ardently, that you found yourself secretly hoping that you at least tasted good.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you realized Yuuta was removing your borrowed clothes bit by bit. He made sure you were left in your panties.

His strong hands moved to caress your bare skin, his fingers leaving imprints on your body. Yuuta’s nails and grip dug into your skin as he kissed you. His hands moved to explore every curve and contour of your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. You wondered if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

You leaned up to deepen the kiss, which only furthered Yuuta’s excitement. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his touch seeming eager, desperate, or perhaps so incredibly lonely, even.

Yuuta’s wet kisses left you dizzy, your senses were overwhelmed by him. Noticing the strain between his legs, you reached your hands down to unbutton his pants & paw at his boxers. Yuuta obliged by tossing them off to the side with your lost articles of clothing.

You moved to guide his hips to meet yours. With him between your legs, you moved to grind against him. You both gasped as his hard member pressed against your soaked panties.

You look up to see his reaction but notice something in Yuuta’s eyes become dark. His grip on your hips became tighter as his nails dug crescents into your soft skin.

Yuuta took this moment to grind himself deeper into you, his cock sliding between the lips of your pussy soaked panties. You let out a wanton moan, grinding back against him, desperate for any form of friction or release. You felt his cock rub against your swollen clit, moving back and forth in a way that left you crying out for more.

As Yuuta continued to tease you, he paused for a moment, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low voice, "Do you want this?”

You shivered, a chill running down your spine.

With a hitched breath, you nodded.

“Will you be mine?" He asked, his eyes peering deep and dark into your own. You felt like he could see right into you like he was clawing his way into your soul to make a home in it.

You were okay with that.

You nodded again, “Yes, I’ll always be yours.”

With a glassy darkness in his eyes, he flipped you over onto your stomach, his movements rough and commanding as he positioned himself behind you. He tsk’ed as he ripped your ruined panties off, throwing off into the darkness of the room.

Well, you didn’t need those, anyway.

You could feel the heat of his breath against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll make it so you can’t ever think to leave,” sending shivers down your spine.

Yuuta trailed hot kisses along your skin as he positioned himself above you. With a low moan, he pressed himself against you, the throbbing hardness of his member seeking entrance to your dripping heat.

And then, with a thrust, he entered you. Yuuta’s hands gripped your ass as he slowly sunk his hard length into your wet core. You sucked in a breath, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as he filled your pussy completely. He was big. So much bigger than you anticipated.

‘We fit together perfectly’, you thought to yourself.

His pace was slow, with him getting used to the tightness of your cunt. You looked up at him with adoration as he leaned over your shoulder to give you a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. A trail of saliva left between your lips when you parted.

Yuuta’s spent no extra moment finding his stride, his movements becoming rough and unyielding as he fucks you with such devoted reverence. You’re helpless. All you could do was beg for more as you gulped in the air.

It’s obscene, the way he makes you moan. You’re powerless to fight against the way he makes your heart skip and your stomach churn. You feel on fire like he’s burning you to a crisp of ash and dust only to resurrect you again if only to just keep fucking you.

Yuuta’s movements become more urgent and the tension between you reaches its peak. With each thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by Yuuta.

Suddenly, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. With a cry, you shatter into a million pieces, the only thing able to leave your mouth is the chant of, “Yuuta-- Ah, Yuuta, Yuuta.”

“I’m here,” he replies, voice strained feeling your pussy tighten around his cock, “I’m right here.” Feeling the wetness and tightness of your cum triggers Yuuta’s climax, and with a stifled moan, he follows suit, pouring his hot cum into you.

Yuuta pulls you into his arms, his leaky cock still hard inside of you. Your dark-haired lover kisses your temple and leaves sweet whispers across the sweat of your skin. He holds you close, entwining you into him as your eyelids get heavy and you feel sleep take over your spent body.

You feel loved.

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

In your dreams, you find yourself lost in a labyrinth of shadows, the air thick with the scent of decay. Whispers echo through the darkness, taunting you with half-formed promises and cryptic warnings.

You stumble through the endless maze, searching for an escape, but the shadows seem to shift and twist, leading you further into the depths of your despair.

And then, just when you think you can bear it no longer, you see him. Yuuta stands before you, his dark eyes looking into yours as he reaches out to you with a hand shrouded in darkness.

He whispers something, you don’t understand. But you still reach out, taking his hand into yours.

You awaken with a start, the echoes of your nightmare still lingering in the recesses of your mind.

Heart pounding, you sit up in bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Yuuta is gone, but his warmth remains.

A sense of foreboding settles over you like a shroud.

[thesockinyourdrawer]

You make a sexual joke infront of the Lls.

Ais.

It’s a normal day in Eridia, as normal as it can get at least. And you two are talking, then, suddenly a joke of “that” kind comes out of nowhere. He bursts into a suprised chuckle. Gazing up and down at you, slowly. You swear if you’d blink, you would miss it, but did he just blush?! “You really wanna do this, sparrow?” He asks, finally breaking the eye contact and tension between the two of you. Are you completely stupid or just unknowing? He mumbles, knowing the pure evil ocudeus holds control of.

Vere.

It was a pretty summer night, birds were chirping, and warm breezes of wind wrapped around the both of you every now and then. The two of you were actually in a deep conversation for a hot minute. Which was surprising, you never have that. It ended quickly, though. Shifting subject, you twist his words into something sexual. It’s not that you haven’t done it before, you just don’t do it often. He barks out an amused laugh. Staring at you, he reddens a bit. Now, he’s gonna tease you 3x more than before. His ultimate mission to get back at you.

Kuras.

You are in his office. You got stabbed by an idiot in the wet wick, you were arguing and out of nowhere, the bitch stabbed you in the shoulder blade. You weren’t dying, but you were still rushed to Kuras by Leander. You got scolded by Kuras while being stitched up. While he was scolding you, an idea rolled into your mind. You cracked a sexual joke. His eyebrows raise and then his face twists into an annoyed expression, failing to hide his blush that has spread to his ears by now. Secretly he likes it, smirking to himself when you’re out of sight.

Leander.

Of course, you guys were in the wet wick, you were in a more hidden corner. Cracking jokes and in all just talking. It felt like it was just you and him in the world everytime you talked. A thick glass clock placed over the both of you, the world quiet as his bright eyes lured intrigued you, like a hypnosis. Snapping out of that, you hit him with a sexual joke. As soon as it landed, it looked like you asked him to murder his own mother, only for a moment though. He then returns to his dumb grin, blushing a lot as the words sinks in. You got him more curious than before, good luck with that.

Mhin.

It was an autumn night, a pretty one too. Orange leaves circling around the both of you, like a mini tornado. Cold breezes of wind touching the both of you. Moon light illuminating exactly where you’re standing, covering the both you. Mhin was nerding out about alchemy, when you decided to twist some of their words and crack a sexual joke. They look up at you, when it lands, they start to blush and redden like crazy, looking away from you and mumbling curses. Safe to say, you got scolded by a tomato who likes cats and you, they won’t say that though.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Eddie jumped a bit as Steve turned in the cot, not expecting him to be awake.

"Hi." He smiled at Eddie. Despite dark circles and sunken eyes that have taken a permanent residence on Steve's face, so had the look. The Look, reserved for Eddie and Eddie alone. Soft eyes, soft smile, soft everything. The only soft thing in that sterile room. A beacon of hope, bringing warmth to the treacherously cold room that he so desperately wanted to escape from.

They laid there, face to face, a few feet apart. Neither of them saying a word for a while.

Unsure of how much time passed before one of them broke the silence

Steddie story game bc we all need something to occupy our time rn lol. Reblog with your own addition(s) of a line or five. It's okay if there are multiple versions going around.

While this isn't necessarily am attempt at collaborative smut, I am starting this fic in a crowd of adults so assume that you *might* run into R rated content.

If you want to add on in a non-traditional way like a comic or interpretive pop figure scenes, go for it. Let's just all have a good time.

Beginning:

It was October, a time for blankets and hot chocolate, a time for snuggling close to someone special and letting the rest of the world fall away.

On a cold bed in a colder room, Eddie Munson opened his eyes.

[sencrose]

— ARE YOU LISTENING?

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

wc: 2.3k

tags: dubcon, noncon elements, vomit/emeto, power imbalance, cockwarming

summary: The name of the game is cruel and unusual punishment, and you just happen to be the unlucky winner.

notes: yeah idk. read the tags and read them again before you click the read more. sex is dubcon at best, the vomit is def noncon. you've been warned. dividers by @/adornedwithlight

❥ ao3 link here

After the months you’ve spent at the monastery, you have no idea how Geto-sama feels about you. Now and then you see him, but he’s distant at best, unreadable at worst.

Rumors float around and they always find their way to you. Sometimes innocent ones, other times things you have no stake in. But there’s one that seeps through the halls of the monastery, one that makes your stomach tighten, your breathing needle sharp.

Geto-sama isn’t very fond of you.

It’s childish, you know you shouldn’t let it bother you. But it does. Especially when it’s followed by baseless accusations that you know aren’t true.

You’re irresponsible. A burden to the family. As you walk down the corridors, you swear you can hear the echoes of your peers' voices–what is your contribution?

Though you know this isn’t true, it still weighs on your conscience. Just enough for you to get desperate to prove everyone wrong, shut them up for once.

But you weren’t able to.

You’ll admit, it was a poor decision made in the heat of the moment. Sick of hearing whispers of your incompetence, you would do anything to prove it, including bringing back a curse for your beloved master. Though you’re out of practice, a grade two should be well within your capabilities.

Unfortunately, some things are a lot easier said than done.

It’s a miracle he noticed something was amiss. If it weren’t for him coming to your rescue, you would be nothing but a pile of broken bones by now. And while you’re grateful for him saving you, it does not spare you from the embarrassment and shame of the now reinforced idea that you’re irresponsible.

The trip back to the monastery was held together by an eerie silence. Suguru wore no emotion on his face while you wore yours on your sleeve, all wandering eyes and nervous tics. By the time the two of you make it back to a private room, nothing has changed. You’re still a nervous wreck, and Suguru does nothing to acknowledge it.

He simply sits down on the armchair, letting out a heavy sigh as he bends. Slowly, he places his chin on his hand and tuts. “Why did you do it?”

You’re barely able to look him in the eye. “I felt like I needed to prove myself.”

“Why?” he asks again, his voice low and dangerous.

You inhale sharply as an attempt to get the words out easier. It doesn’t help.

“I’ve heard some people say that you don’t like me,” you state, and the words choke on the way out, a ball forming in your throat as you attempt to push them out, “because I’m irresponsible.”

“The first half isn’t true. I’m actually quite fond of you…” he pauses, and you get your hopes up in the brief silence, “but you did prove the latter.”

As quickly as you got your hopes up, they crash to the floor. It stings, hearing him say that.

”There’s a reason why things are the way they are…” he trails off, eyes analyzing your form from top to bottom. It feels like he’s dissecting you with a scalpel in hand, cutting into the skin to see what’s hidden underneath.

“You don’t need to prove anything,” he hums with–if you’re not mistaken–the slightest hint of amusement, “but you do need to be punished.”

Even though this is supposed to be a punishment, his words send heat rushing to your face. It only worsens when he beckons you to come closer, your breath hitching when he’s close enough to touch.

”Don’t be shy,” Suguru coos, patting his lap, gesturing for you to come take your seat. It feels like a trap, but you know you can’t refuse him.

Awkwardly, you raise one leg over the other, gently sitting down, doing your best to avoid touching chests together because that would be too much for your poor heart. Seeing him this up close is a sight to behold. Soft skin that can only be achieved with a meticulous multi-step care routine. Silky tresses of obsidian that makes you wonder how he takes care of it, if he has someone brush it for him in the mornings. You feel a tinge of jealousy at the thought.

“Is this something you do with the others?” you ask, hushed and quiet because you’re unsure if this question will spur on another punishment.

He tilts his head quizzically before smiling gently. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “No.”

It shouldn’t excite you, but it does. Something hot and honeyed makes its way down your core when his large hands wrap around your upper thighs and straddle you closer to him until you feel something hard pressed against your clothed cunt.

The sensation is enough to make your heart race, and intensifies even more when you realize you don’t even know what your punishment is yet.

His hands pull and adjust your skirt until he exposes your underwear. From there his hands are agonizingly slow, his finger tracing up your thigh until he reaches the gusset. With a swift movement he pulls it off to the side, the sudden exposure to the cold air making you wince.

”Geto-sama?”

Your question goes unanswered.

It feels far from a punishment when his fingers make their way to your clit, gently tracing circles until you can’t hold your voice back. As soon as he hears you moan for him, it’s as if he’s trying to rip it out of you, motions becoming tighter and faster as your breath quickens.

And as quickly as he gets you on the precipice, he takes his fingers away, making you whine at the loss of his touch.

“This is a punishment,” he reminds you, a teasing lilt woven into his voice, “turn around.”

So you do as he says, waiting in anxious anticipation for what comes next.

You hear the sounds of fabric shuffling and shifting before something hot and hard presses against your ass. A shaky breath leaves your lips as he rubs against you. Geto’s patience knows no bounds, while you’re desperate for him to get it over with, grinding against his cock to entice him to put it in already. He finally heeds your call, but only after pressing against your hole teasingly before pulling away a few times, just to hear that high pitched whine when he doesn’t give you the satisfaction.

When he finally gives you what you want, you nearly regret asking for it. Geto takes his sweet time putting himself into you. It’s painfully slow, as if you can feel every part of your pussy stretch itself out for him inch by inch. All you can do is steady your breathing until he bottoms out, and let out a shaky moan when he does.

Geto doesn’t let you catch your breath before asking, “You know about my curse technique, don’t you?”

This hardly feels like the time to have a talk about sorcery and the like, but it’s not like you have many options.

”I’m aware, yes,” you do your best to sound composed, though your voice is breathy, your head somewhere else entirely as you look down where you’re connected to him. That aching need grows at the sight of it, your hips moving before you realize what you’re doing.

“How much are you aware of?” Geto continues, and the contrast between your composures is laughable. His hands grip tightly onto your hips, holding them in place.

“You can absorb cursed spirits, and you have a lot of them stored up.” You hope this is the right answer, as if this is a test you have a chance of passing.

(You don’t.)

“Do you know how I absorb them?” he coos, as if he’s amused by your answer. It’s difficult to tell if his interest is genuine or not, but realistically you guess it’s somewhere in the middle. Getting tested about his cursed technique isn’t exactly what you had in mind as a punishment, but Geto can be a bit of an eccentric character when he wants to be. Cult leader things, you suppose.

”No.” you reply, ashamed because it’s the truth. You’re not exactly trusted with much in regards to cursed spirits, working more with administrative tasks that are deemed too tedious for the stronger curse users.

His thumb brushes against your lips before he gets closer, so close the warmth of his breath tickles the shell of your ear. “I swallow them.”

It’s a strange mental image to conjure, and not one you particularly want to imagine at the moment. If you were to be honest, you think it's beneath him, but you'd never voice that opinion out loud.

“Have I ever told you about the taste of a curse?” His timbre changes to something dark and low, a threat lurking beneath the surface of his words. Suddenly, despite yourself, you feel exposed. Like a deer in headlights, frozen and staring down the car that’s going to run it over. Nothing good can come from this.

You do not know. You do not want to know. But one thing is certain: he’ll tell you anyway.

��It tastes horrible,” he states simply. He presses his lips against your neck, gently nibbling against the supple skin. The way he kisses you is soft, something too intimate for a subordinate and superior. It’s almost enough to distract you from the words that leave his mouth next, “like a rag soaked in vomit.”

And though his words strike fear in your heart, it’s not enough to pull yourself off of him. You shouldn’t be enjoying yourself, but Geto has a way with his fingers. With the way he has you melting in his hands when he touches your puffy clit, desperate for any kind of simulation.

“It makes you want to retch and gag, yet nothing comes out.” His words don’t match his actions–the former filling you with unease, the latter keeping you on the edge of pleasure. Either way, your heart beats faster, along with an unsettling tincture of cortisol and adrenaline coursing through your body.

His thumb gently swipes over your lips before pushing into the seam, a demand for an opening. You give it to him before you can stop to think about it and the way his fingers touch your tongue makes your stomach twist in fear. It’s cold, analytical, like a researcher examining a specimen with gloved hands, pressing and prodding with the goal of invoking some kind of reaction.

“Since you want to know so badly, why don’t you have a taste?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, shifting gears to stuff his fingers down your throat as deep as possible. The sounds that leave your lips are unfamiliar and unwelcome to your ears, forced retches and coughs filling the empty room as you receive your punishment.

Geto doesn’t blink when you vomit, nor does he move his fingers away. He simply watches with a cold eye as you empty the contents of your stomach onto his arm and the floor.

There’s nowhere to run, his free arm wrapped firmly around your waist to bring you further into him. Every muscle in your body tightens in all the wrong ways as he attempts to get another out of you. It comes out too easily, as if your body is willing to give him whatever he wants.

If this is what his affection is like, you don’t want to experience his contempt. Or maybe it’d be better. Gracious. A quick cut to the throat. A gunshot to the chest. Not whatever this is, this drawn out torture, rendering you into a pathetic state where you can’t even beg for mercy.

The muscles in your stomach ache from twisting and constricting when there’s nothing left to purge, but Geto doesn’t stop. Even when your throat burns with bile in places it shouldn’t be, when you claw and scratch into his arms enough to draw blood. Not until he gets a few shallow strokes in, grunting at the way your body tightens up for him with his fingers down your throat.

Geto can’t stop himself from cumming inside you, not when every part of you seems to be gripping around him for all his worth. Drool spills from your mouth as he empties himself inside you, each hot spurt of his seed making you groan.

“Maybe, I was a bit rough,” Geto removes his hand from your mouth and returns to the soft tone he carries when talking with his family, though it does nothing to soothe you. If anything, it puts you on edge, in fear that he wants to take more from you.

“But you did good for me. Surely, that warrants a reward.”

You don’t want whatever reward he’s offering but you’re too scared, too worn out to fight. You don’t give him a nod, you simply watch as his fingers find your clit. Despite his cruelty, his fingers are generous, and it’s jarring enough to give you whiplash.

Like his punishments, Geto’s swift with his rewards, drawing tighter and tighter circles around your clit until you cum with his softening cock inside you. Your orgasm is tainted even though pleasure courses through your body, your muscles too worn out to truly indulge. Even still, your cunt convulses around him as you cry and cough when you finally recieve that release you’ve (regrettably) been begging for.

Geto slowly pulls his fingers away from you as you come down from your high, his arms wrapping you in a gentle embrace. Every hair on your body stands, every nerve on high alert.

“I hope you learned your lesson. I won’t be so nice next time.”

[fragilecapric0rnn]

The Future is the Same (but i have to try)

Steve's mission accidentally sends him back to a crucial moment in 1986. Not the one you're thinking of, the other crucial moment.

This is the product of having my NovelWriting notebook open at the same time as my FicWriting doc.

I was going to use this for one of the fic challenges but since I might delete it in the future, I thought it might be best to post it on its own! A loose interpretation of reunions.

I hope you enjoy! I hope it doesn't confuse you too much! And who knows, I might do this again in the near future!

Regularly scheduled programming will resume shortly!

[senoleaf]

Golden Soul and Silver Heart

Chapter 1: Golden Soul

Short Summary:

Behind a usually non-existent door a creature lies, waiting. Luring flies into its trap under the pretense of humanity.

A golden soul is the first fly to get caught—paying a bitter price for having been too naive and confident.

A silver heart is the second fly to get caught—paying a bitter price for not having been faster, for not having been more cautious.

— — —

my take on how the story about Strangled Red (Door's Open) intersects with the creepypasta Lost Silver. also includes Insomnia Silver (Hypno's Lullaby).

Gold and Silver are in their early 20s in this fic.

written with the help of my best friend Tallulah Bangkok who also beta-read for me!!

— — —

Chapter Summary:

Following a letter he had received, challenging him to a battle, Gold decided to meet his anonymous challenger all alone in the middle of the night.

Chapter Wordcount: +6000

Chapter Count: (1/2)

please beware the warnings in the tags on AO3!

[gaepublishinghouse]

A Desert Fennec's Mating Season [ Solo Tighnari // Implied Cynonari ]

╭ ─┉─!! • !!─┉─ ╮

Tags: Heat cycles, transmasc Tighnari, masturbation, breeding kink if you squint.

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

--

In a temporary campsite off the beaten path of the Avidya Forest, Tighnari awoke with a start covered in sweat. The sun had yet to rise and cast its puddles of light through the thick foliage, or perhaps he had slept in much longer than he anticipated. None of it really mattered because all he could focus on was the sweltering heat atypical to the hour and the area and the biome. Had a withering zone popped up nearby? No, this felt much more oppressive and overwhelming than even that.

As he sat up to root through his travel pack for herbs, a mist flower, anything to help, the movement of his legs made him aware of how his underclothes clung to his thighs and for a brief but lucid moment, he realized that his heat had come early and it had come with a vengeance.

Tighnari groaned and rolled over to his stomach, pressing his face to the rolled-up tunic acting as his pillow for the night as he cursed his lack of foresight. It was unlike him to lose track of something like his heat, but his duties had brought his attention away from the time with how hectic everything had become of late. At some point, Tighnari must have missed one too many doses of his suppressants and well… as much as he liked to lecture the other forest rangers about the importance of being prepared, he was hardly infallible in that regard. 

His claws dug into the packed soil stubbornly and he took a deep breath. Growing up away from his own kind had left him floundering during his first heat, but that had been years ago. He’s older now, much better informed, despite the pervading heat making it hard to think straight. Tighnari just had to keep calm and ride through the first wave so his head could clear enough for the trip back.

His tail swished back and forth, face pressing into his makeshift pillow as his hand slipped down to rub himself through his underwear. Even with the barrier, the pressure was enough to have him biting back a groan. His hips seemed to move on their own, slick soaking through the dark fabric and making his hand sticky. Inwardly Tighnari cringed at the sensation, but quickly his mind was getting lost in the ebb and flow of honey-thick pleasure as he chased the friction. It felt good, so good, almost indulgent yet energizing like a bite of honeyed dates.

“Cyno..”

Tighnari’s thoughts quickly went down that path of thought and the name on his lips made his dick twitch, a fresh dribble of slick gushing between his legs. He would have felt some guilt in thinking about his companion as a means to get off, but he could hardly help where his heat-addled mind decided to go. Maybe some deep instinctual part of him knew that the General Mahamatra was good for him, that he would take care of Tighnari well. His more rational thoughts sneered at the thought of wanting to be protected like he wasn’t more than capable of taking care of himself. Still, unbidden, his mind brought out images of his waist between desert-rough hands, a low voice murmuring in his ear to hold still. He imagined what it would be like, having that strong but agile body forged from combat pinning him down, surrounding him with that warm scent of sunlight and honey.

A quiet curse spilled past gritted teeth as Tighnari wrestled out of his damp underclothes, the cooler air of the night making him shiver but offering a pleasant respite. His back arched, ears twitching as the pads of his fingers rubbed over his dick. He panted, practically drooling from the stretch when he shifted to push past the tightness of his hole. Gods, he could only imagine how much deeper Cyno could fuck him. He wondered if Cyno’s pride would allow Tighnari to push him to his back and ride him until his muscles burned. Maybe those rough hands would grip onto his hips as he fucked up into him, hold his hips down so that he could come hot and deep inside him.

“Ah– ngh, Cyno..” Tighnari murmured under his breath, his head thrown back as his palm rubbed against his dick and his fingers pumped mercilessly into his hole. He was so close, teetering over the edge so painfully close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop–”

His mouth dropped open in a quiet gasp as he came, making a mess of his hands and the bedroll underneath him. Tighnari whimpered in short-lived relief as the heat, for a merciful moment, subsided. He knew that it wouldn’t be long until it would come back, but he still relished in the clarity and bone-deep relief that the orgasm gave. He pulled his fingers out with a wet sound and brought them up to his mouth, sucking and languidly imagining it was something else he could be licking clean..

That thought certainly made the next wave come faster.

Tighnari’s nose twitched as the evening wind carried the scent of warm sunlight and honey. Bare feet padded through the grass outside of his tent for a moment before the scent that was undeniably and potently the General Mahamatra stopped just past the curtain. Surely it was just his imagination, because why would Cyno be out in the wilderness looking for him?

--

Part 2

[sendryl]

Chapter 9 is up!

Naruto gets some clothes and makes some new friends, and gets a whole bunch of handkerchiefs.

His new friends stress out the ANBU.

Sasuke makes some friends of his own, but all he really wants is to be able to go search for his soulmate.

[tunastime]

for the comfort prompts, draping a blanket over a sleeping body ^-^ maybe with 2 of our sweetest boys.... xisuma and doc ^-^ OR also maybe with ranchers ^-^

draping a blanket over their sleeping body (923 words) (x)

Xisuma scrubs his eyes. 

There comes a point in every shift that his body starts to give out. A point where, no matter the length of the shift, or how much he'd eaten, or slept, or drank tea, Xisuma felt his body slip away from him and the dull ache of sleep start to root and take hold behind his eyes. It's at this point where respite usually comes, in the form of Cleo or Doc walking through the door. And eventually it will be Cleo, he knows, because Doc's shift neatly aligned with his tonight. So much so he was able to actually get dinner at the same time as him, and Doc was able to kick him under the table over a cup of coffee. The jerk. 

Regardless, he could expect Cleo to wander in when she wished. Joints starting to protest weakly under the stretches he contorts his spine into, Xisuma gathers his belongings, and starts the trek down the levels toward his room.

It's a quiet walk—one he's learned to catalogue his thoughts to, to enjoy as much as the daily chatter of a morning shift beginning, or an afternoon shift ending. This early morning closure means that he'll have the good part of the day to sleep before he's on for another 48 hours. It also means that, for just a few of those hours, he might get to sleep next to his partner, after a few too many nights of just-barely's and near-misses. Xisuma sighs. For a moment, he lingers in the hall, peeking out at the rest of the station through a long, double-paned window, spanning the length of the propelled walkway. As he steps on, leans against the barrier, he watches stars flick idly past him alongside the sprawl of Prometheus. At its heart, where he was headed down to now, were the quarters. And his, along with a select few, got their own atrium view.  

The rest of the walk is similarly quiet, Xisuma's feet working on autopilot as his mind wanders from task to task, correspondence, to shipping requests, to diplomatic communique. He frowns, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits a beat for the elevator. There had been a recent communique from the Coalition. It wasn't uncommon, but it hadn't happened in, what, two or three years now? Certainly enough time to have forgotten the last time he saw any of the crew on an official basis and certainly long enough to forget just what that little check-up meant. He holds back a particularly violent shiver. It's nothing this time—has to be. Prometheus hadn't done anything new or interesting in months, let alone enough to warrant an investigation. If the Interspace Investigation Coalition needed something from Xisuma, Admiral Void, it was going to take a very special visit and a lot of convincing. Not words on a screen.

By the time the thought passes through his mind, Xisuma is already at his front door. He shakes away the feeling crawling up the base of his spine and taps his keycard, door sliding open at his behest. 

"Doc?" he calls, as he enters. "I'm home."

The front entry is still warmly lit as he toes off his shoes and organizes his coat and bag at the front door. The living room is dark, aside from the faint glow of blue light, as are the desks they share and the kitchenette. Xisuma hums, frown deepening. He makes his way into the living room as he starts unclasping his overcoat, hands fiddling with the zipper behind him.

There, sprawled haphazardly on their small sofa, is Doc. One of his legs bends under the other, his ankle propped on the arm of the couch, socked foot hanging just over the edge. His pajamas are ruffled from moving, rucked up over one side of his ribs where his arm stretches to cover his eyes from the dim, ambient light. Xisuma stifles a snort that then catches the back of his throat. He looks comfortable. To an extent. Enough to fall asleep, at least, and enough to stay that way, even as Xisuma had called out to him and noisily shuffled in. 

X crosses his arms. He has but two options: one which requires him to deal with a sleep-disoriented, disgruntled Doc M now. The other: listening to him complain about tight muscles as he slipped into bed later that morning, seeking out the shape of Xisuma he missed. On one hand, X would get his partner's warmth and weight and grumbled words sooner. On the other... he looks so dang peaceful he'd almost feel bad disturbing him. Xisuma smiles to himself—the image alone of Doc crawling into bed next to him and letting X curl tiredly around him seems wildly comforting. A little selfish, but, really, who could blame him? 

Quietly, Xisuma shuffles over. He lifts the blanket from the back of the couch, ruffling it lightly in his hands as he sets it over Doc's sleeping form the best he can. Shrouded by the multicolored fabric, Doc seems to shrink, just a bit. Clearly cozy and comfortable, his face remains soft, sleep smoothing out the lines of stress on his face. X tucks the blanket carefully around his partner, careful not to jostle him awake as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. Upon drawing back, Doc doesn't seem to stir, and Xisuma hums his thanks to no one. He steps back, satisfied with his work, and shuffles off to bed.