#and yet it's still lacking in something I can't figure out

[floweryfandomnerd]

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[beloveds-embrace]

Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭

I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭

Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol

First Part

Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.

John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.

When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.

“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.

You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.

He lingers, sighs, and leaves.

You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.

Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,

Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.

Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.

He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.

Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.

One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”

But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.

Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.

Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.

He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.

The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.

You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.

Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.

But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.

One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.

“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.

“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.

John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”

You don’t respond.

The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.

Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.

John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.

Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.

Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.

Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.

The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.

But you keep them all at arm���s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).

Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.

“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”

You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”

The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”

Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.

They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.

“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.

[rinneverse]

pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,

i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3

cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not

𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.

𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.

𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.

𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).

𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.

𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?

𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[fallingdownhell]

May I request the Sumeru boys getting head pats and long rants about how attractive they are from their s/o who's blasted drunk?

Oh my god! This is so adorable!

Characters Included: Cyno; Tighnari; Alhaitham; Kaveh (+Wanderer)

Content: gender neutral reader; reader is drunk; fluff and funny, otherwise safe; Characters get flustered a lot

Word count: 2,8k words

I can't really write drunken slur, so just... pretend, okay? Also, I included Wanderer in this because he's technicaly a Sumeru boy and I love him and he deserves headpats. Anyways, have fun!<3

Cyno

He sighed heavily as he adjusted your drunken and slumped body on his back, continuing his way home. He knew it would go that way. You always got way too drunk when going out with your friends.

Yet you kept insisting that you would control yourself this time. That he could relax and drink one or two drinks as well. But Cyno was a protective boyfriend, so if you said you wanted to drink, that meant he was staying sober.

And again, he was glad he made that decision as he adjusted you yet again while you slept peacefully on his back, arms hanging loosely from his shoulders.

Still, he couldn't help but smile at you. After all, you were adorable when drunk, he always had something to laugh about and tease you the next day or two, so it was fine.

"Mhhh..", you mumbled, trying to turn around on his back, but finding that you couldn't move very much.

"We're almost home, (name). Just a few more minutes, alright?"

"Hhmm.. Cyno?", you asked, still sounding sleepy from all the alcohol you've been drinking.

"Yes, (name). I'm here.", he answered and you retorted with a small hum. Thinking that you would just fall asleep again, like the last few times, he kept his eyes in front of him and on the street, but then he suddenly felt a hand in his hair.

"You have so beautiful hair..", you mumbled, quiet like a whisper, which almost made Cyno think that your words weren't meant for him to hear, but then you continued talking.

"And your face! Cyno, do you have any idea how handsome you are? It's unfair!"

Hearing you say this, so unexpected, it made his cheeks all hot, getting red just from a few compliments from his significant other. He was really glad that you couldn't see him right now.

"Hey! Did you hear me?", you suddenly yelled, but still continued to stroke through his hair while Cyno kept walking with you on his back, which only gave you the perfect access to his hair that you needed.

"Hey? Cyno!", you yelled again but he kept quiet, still flustered from your compliments. He just wasn't used to that, okay?

"Meanie... but still a handsome meanie... MY handsome meanie.."

You then started giggling, laying your head to rest on his neck, but you still kept playing with his hair..

Oh Archons above.. he would have to make sure about your memories after you woke up. He couldn't handle it if you were to tease him about his reaction (or lack thereof) to your remarks. Because sober-you would have no problem figuring out that he didn't answer out of embarrassement..

Tighnari

Partys and such were a rare occurence within Gandharva Ville, but they did happen from time to time.

Today was such an occaision. One of the forest rangers recently got engaged and with permission from Tighnari was now hosting a small party with all his colleagues and friends.

Tighnair himself has only been a brief guest to said party. Not because he wasn't happy for the couple or didn't like the guy. It was simply because it quickly reached a state were it was just too loud for him to handle, and he didn't want to get yet another headache.

He went to the newly engaged couple for one last time, congratulating them again, before telling him the reason for his early departure. They were understanding, offering to safe him some of the leftover food, which Tighnari greatly appreciated and accepted.

You, however, decided to stay for a bit longer, which Tighnari didn't mind all that much. There weren't really that many opportunities for the people here to have fun, and he didn't want to put a damper on things, so he agreed.

He went home alone and made himself comfortable in bed, reading a book he recently started to pick up. Of course, it felt a little bit off to him, since you were missing from your usual spot by his side, but that was just his fox side being needy. He would be fine like this for a few hours.

Time continued to go by and it was now late at night, yet Tighnari could still hear that the party was far from over. However, he did get a bit of a bad feeling when he suddenly heard knocking from his front door.

"Yes?", he asked to let the person know that he was still awake.

"Ah, Master Tighnari. Sorry for the late disturbance. We were just.. hoping that you could come and collect (Name)? They're pretty drunk but refuse to be taken home by any of us."

"...I'm coming.", Tighnari sighed but still got up from bed and made his way over to the venue. It was only a short walk but even standing outside hurt his ears already from how loud it was inside.

When he walked inside, he instantly spotted you, talking to a group of Forest Rangers. Even though he was a bit further away, he clearly saw you swaying from one side to the other, people watching you closely to make sure that you wouldn't just fall to the side... Archons, you were absolutely drunk.

He sighed again as he made his way over to you. You spotted him when he was only a few more steps away. Your entire face lit up with excitement and you threw your arms out for him as you yelled "Tighnari!!"

He smiled, even though his ears hurt just a tad bit more from your hinge, but he didn't mind. It's not like you were aware of your actions right now.

"There's my beautiful boyfriend!"

He stopped at that, but didn't really have much time to react since you were throwing yourself at him. He caught you as you kept laughing and giggling, nuzzling up to his neck.

Then, the next second, you detached from him, standing by his side. "Right? Isn't he so pretty?", you looked expectantly at the forest rangers, who were all looking kinda amused at Tighnari.

"Come on, (Name), let's get home.", he tried to pull you along with him, which you let happen, to his surprise.

The entire walk back to his hut, you kept saying things like how beautiful he was and how unfair it was. To be honest, it made him flustered beyond anything.

Once he had you home and changed into your sleepwear, he just wanted to sleep, but seemed like you had other plans. You grabbed him and pulled him so that his face was now against your chest as you began to gently stroke through his hair, occaisonally scratching his ears as well.

"So pretty.. my pretty boyfriend.. very handsome..."

You kept mumbling to yourself, stroking and massaging his scalp and even though Tighnari was a blushing mess, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the attention and the compliments..

Alhaitham

Even though he would never admit to it, Alhaitham was staying up late because of you.

You had told him that you would be going out with your friends tonight and that you would be getting late so he didn't have to wait up on you.

Little did you know that Alhaitham had picked up a habit... he quite literally wasn't really able to sleep anymore without you either by his side in bed or just in his general presence.

Don't get him wrong, he was still able to sleep without you, it was just that his sleep tended to be a lot worse and pretty light when he was by himself than compared with you.

So, he decided to not heed your words. Instead, he made himself comfortable on the couch while he waited for you, reading one of his many books. Since Kaveh was out tonight as well, the house was silent for once and he actually got to finish his book, so he went to pick up a new one right away.

He had no idea how late it had gotten when he heard a set of keys clinging from outside. He waited until the front door opened, revealing your form to him.

He immediately put his book aside and went to greet you, but that was also when the smell of alcohol hit him. Just how much had you been drinking?

"Haitham!", you suddenly yelled and launched yourself at him. He managed to catch you, but he did stumble from the impact, making you both fall back onto the couch behind him.

You giggled as you got up from him, but when you looked in his eyes, your face suddenly got serious as you climbed on top of him, looking him dead in the eyes.

He stared back at you, trying to figure out what was going on in your head right now. But before he could say anything, you took that off of him, revealing your thoughts to him.

"Why are you so damn handsome? It's not fair! Gimme some of that!"

He was shocked and confused at your remark, but before he could say something or react otherwise, you suddenly began patting and stroking his hair, getting him even further into the confusion.

"...What are you doing?", he asked, irritated by your behaviour. You never did something like this, not even when you were drunk before.

"Giving you headpats. You desere 'em for always working so hard... and for being my handsome boyfriend!"

You smiled up at him, clearly satisfied with your explanaition, but it left Alhaitham in a mess. He put an arm up, trying to cover up his cheeks so you wouldn't notice them turning red from your words.

However, your drunken mind didn't even recognise the gesture, you just happily continued giving him headpats, not making any indication that you wanted to move from on top of him.

So, Alhaitham simply resigned to his fate, letting you do as you pleased. There was no reason for you to know that he was secretly enjoying the attention he recieved from you right now..

Kaveh

Kaveh enjoyed a good night out with a few drinks just as much as the next person, maybe even a little more. You, on the other hand, never really enjoyed drinking and going out all that much, only doing so very rarely.

Today was a date just like any other with your boyfriend, Kaveh. However, when the two of you decided to go to a tavern, you decided that you wanted to drink something with him this time around.

Normally, you were the sober one, managing to get him back when he had a tad bit too much to drink but usually, Kaveh was pretty good at knowing his limit.

Seeing as how you wanted to drink something today, he decided to hold back on alcohol for today. You insisted that he didn't have to, but he wanted to stay sober so he could have an eye on you, just in case.

And man, was he glad he did so. Seeing as you weren't drinking much, you didn't have much tolerance for alcohol. So, you were already pretty drunk after only two or three drinks.

Kaveh had a great time however, seeing you all confused and still smiling brightly at him really only made you all the more adorable in his eyes.

He was having a great time picking at you, teasing you, until he was suddenly yanked by his collar. You had pulled him down so he was now at face level with you.

Your cheeks were flushed red from the alcohol, yet you were looking at him with a half assed, angry look in your eyes.

"What?", he asked, still smirking at you as he kept the position, remaining on eye-level with you.

"Quit teasing me already! Gods, why do you have to be so adorable when you're so annoying sometimes."

Choosing to ignore the last statement you made, Kaveh instead focused on the other thing you said about him.

"You think I'm adorable?", he continued teasing, even though his cheeks did flush a bit red at your words, but in your drunken state, you didn't realize that fact.

"Yes. And also cute, handsome, very beautiful, pretty-!"

"Okay, okay! I got it!", he suddenly yelled as he put a hand over your mouth, shutting you up effectively. Now he really wasn't able to hide his blush anymore.

He was looking to the side, trying to figure out how to go from here, when he suddenly felt a hand on his head. He whipped his head back around to you, seeing that you were now entirely focused on your hand in his hair.

You were petting him... in front of all the other customers of the tavern!

Kaveh looked at you, shocked, but not opposed to your sudden affection. You just looked at him and then flashed him your biggest smile.

Now he really didn't have the heart to tell you to stop, so he just let you do as you pleased.

And you did just that. You continued to pet and stroke through his hair, while the occaisonal compliment slipped past your lips, making him even more flustered every time he heard it.

Gosh, why did the Archons bestow him with such and adorable partner. He was sure he wasn't deserving of you, yet he soaked up the affection he was recieving like he was starving for it. It didn't matter that you were in public, he liked it all the more...

Wanderer

'Coming home' was an experience he never thought he would have. Yet he did get that... and so much more when you entered his life.

You showed so many things to him, helped him learn and grow so much over the time, and finally helped him build a place that really felt like a 'home' to him.

He enjoyed coming back to you every single day, he adored you with every fibre of his body. There was nothing in this world he wasn't willing to do for you and your happiness.

And yet....

"Babeee!", you yelled as he walked through the front door, greeting him like you usually do when he returns.

But this time, he is stunned. He immediately smells the alcohol in the house and all around you. You're much more enthusiastic than normally, which only solidifies his assumption that you had been drinking.

You did mention that you would be having a friend over today and wanting to have one or tow drinks with her. But it seemed like that turned into a couple more drinks.

He caught you as you were charging towards him, jumping into his arms without any regards for your safety because you knew that he would catch you, without a doubt. He always did, even though he complained to you afterwards (only half-assed, but still).

You immediately hugged him, pushing his giant hat off of him, so you had better access to him, nuzzling your head into the crock of his neck.

"What the- What is wrong with you?", he asked, incredulous. He never witnessed you acting like this before, so this was entirely new territory for him.

"He he", you just giggled and nuzzled against him more, tightening your arms around his form.

He stood there for a few more seconds before sighing and resigning to his fate. He somehow managed to pick you up and carry the both of you over to the couch so you could both have it a bit more comfortable than it would be just standing around in the open.

"Mhh.. pretty boyfriend.. so handsome..", you mumbled as you rested on his chest, and the remark made him freeze up under you.

Did you just- Did you.. mean that?

You must have felt his tensing up, because you suddenly sat up a bit to look at him with a serious expression. Then, you pulled yourself up a tad bit more, so that your hand now reached his face without problem.

You continued looking at him as you stroked some stray strands of hair behind his ear, then your hand wandererd higher, now massaging his scalp, patting his head every now and then.

"So handsome.. and all mine..", you continued to mumble, still staring at him with a serious expression.

He blushed furiously from your remarks, trying to look away from you but finding himself to be unable to do so. He wanted to say something, anything really, but the words keep getting caught in his thoat, so nothing comes out.

Then, you smile softly down at him and nuzzle down against his neck again, still stroking his head.

He just sighed as his arms around you tightened just a bit more, holding you more protectively..

He would never admit to it when asked out loud, but... he really started to enjoy this...

[504py]

No Compromises

Yandere Canada/Reader – You reunite with an old college friend, though he's nothing like you remember.

⚠️ Yandere content, kidnapping, self-harm, stalking, possible emetophobia (descriptions of gagging and the feeling of illness), no use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader.

IM BACK YAWL 😭😭 just a bit of a filler post and another apology for being away for so long!!! i tried to get this out by halloween but i kept adding more shit LOL

while this is much more aligned with his 2p version, i had no idea if it counts as such since here i portray his 1p and 2p version as the same guy 😭😭 so that's up in the air!

also u may notice the lack of a [oneshot] tag... thats cuz i have a prequel wip for this, but figured i'll just finish and post it if the people desire it LMAO. pls lemme know if y'all do!! anyways so sorry again and i hope u enjoy!!! thanks so much to everyone for sticking around and enjoying what i do 🩵🩵🩵

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The light drag of a cigarette is the first thing you process when you finally come to your senses.

A man stands before you, singular lightbulb leering ominously above a head of overgrown blond hair, the bright light reflecting in his glasses making you unable to see much of his features. His tall, slender figure is highlighted by the stark overhead shadows that are being cast on his baggy clothing. He exhales, smoke billowing and resting heavily in the dusty, stale air.

"Hey." He says, the friendly, casual tone of his voice making you blink faster in the hopes of gaining more lucidity. His tongue pokes at his cheek as he drops the cigarette to the cemented floor and stomps on it. The gritty sound feels like boiling water in your audio-sensitive drugged up state.

"Are the ropes too tight?" He asks with a quirk of his head, you squint, thinking you'll be able to catch a glimpse of his face, but the dark shadows and your pupils trying desperately to adjust to the lighting in the dim room make the task much too difficult. You didn't even notice you were bound 'till you tugged your wrists at the mention of the word 'rope.'

The mystery man straightens his posture and takes a few steps closer to you. His sneakers are downtrodden. The lacing is asymmetrical, any recognizable color or branding rubbed off, and the hem of his loose jeans caked in what seems to be mud.

"Come on, you can speak, can't you? It's not like I taped up your mouth." The tone of voice he uses here is almost playful, yet too vague. You didn't know if it was condescending, comforting, or cheerful.

"I... I'm... Ropes are okay..." You respond mindlessly, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak. God, it feels like your head could loll off your neck at any moment.

"Poor thing. You sound parched– Tell ya what, I'll give you some water if you kiss me." Even if his face is still hazy, you can make out the glint of a smile. His canines are pointy.

He draws closer, and crouches in front of your seated figure. He's a lot taller than you thought, seeing him up close. You see the indent of a pointed dimple by the edge of his sharp lip corners when he turns his cheek to you. There's a few moles on his pale skin. He smells like tobacco, rust, and rainwater. Smells a bit like something syrupy and moldy, but maybe that's just the room.

You shudder away from his close proximity, and he laughs nervously.

"Aw, I thought that'd work." He chuckles, before facing you fully, still crouching.

You can finally see his face. What you thought were dark brown eyes turned out to be a dull shade of purple, just with his pupils as fully blown as they can go. The stare is creepy, but at least his droopy outer eye corners and straight blond eyelashes soften their impression. His nose is well-structured and pointy, reddish at the tip. His sharp lip corners seem to always point upwards, and were pink like they had just been kissed and bitten. If it weren't for this moment, you'd have thought he was an attractive man with a somewhat docile-looking face. His cheeks are flushed, he tilts his head in wonder, a few pieces of his hair falling over his face.

"Merde, you're really pretty up close. I can't believe you're in front of me right now. I missed you so, so much." He giggles, cold hand reaching out to carefully grasp your chin to try and steady your bobbing head.

He swoons, "So, so pretty." then presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The action makes him exhale a shuddered, moaning breath. Whatever is in your system prevents you from reacting too much besides a weak jerk of your body.

"I should get you out of this shitty room, but I wanted to be prepared in case you reacted more violently. I didn't wanna have to drag you around. Don't wanna rough my baby up." He says with a small smile, as if the thought secretly brings him some amusement. Maybe his otherwise comforting smile just comes off as sinister at a time like this.

"You're reacting so much better than I thought you would, though. You're being so, so good, you know?" He coos like you're a pet, taking his hand off your chin and his blunt fingernails gently scratching at the top of your scalp.

Your throat hurts. You swallow dryly. "Who are you?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, and his smile drops slightly. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, cigarette-stained air blowing over your face.

He squints at you. "You really don't remember me?" He says quietly.

You shake your head. His light eyebrows knit in what looks like an expression of heartbreak.

He tries to jog your memory. "Come on, college sweethearts?"

"...I didn't date anyone in college."

His lips part in shock, the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepening.

"It's Mattie. Come on now." He pleads, desperation dripping from every word. The higher, more pathetic register his voice shifts into begins to jog your memory.

The sound of that nickname makes your eyes widen and forces your shoulders to press against the back of the chair. His identity makes things a million times worse.

"...M-Matthew Williams? No, no, c'mon, we never dated. Don't be like this."

"We had something special, though. I missed you. You missed me too, didn't you? You even remembered my full name." Matthew's gentle voice raises, as if trying to convince you of his feelings, trying to justify this situation.

"Th-There must've been a better way to get in contact with me without tying me up."

He shakes his head, frown almost a pout. "I did try! But you'd always blow me off to hang out with your other friends, a-and– and I just couldn't watch when I found out you were starting to see someone else." Resting on his knees and looking up at you, he grasps your bound hands on your lap. The position reminds you of prayer. Worship.

"I love you. Always have. A-And I know I'm different from how I used to be, but maybe you'll like this newer version of me more. You did say you liked a more assertive partner, didn't you?" His head tilts while he nods, like he's trying to convince you of everything he's saying.

His crazed eyes quickly scan your expression for any validation. "Yeah, yeah... I-I was a doormat back then, so that's probably why you didn't return my feelings." He laughs bitterly, and the sight is almost irritatingly funny to you. He's comparing his former pitiful self to the way he is now, as if he had changed. "But I'm different now. I'm not a coward anymore. I'll take care of you, and I'll do it well, I promise. I'll make you so happy."

"Please, Mattie, j-just let me go, and I'll give you a chance–"

He gasps. "You used my nickname." A disgustingly lovestruck grin spreads on his pale freckled face. He presses your bound hands against his flat chest. His heart is beating wildly against his ribcage.

"Feel my heartbeat. It's all for you. It only beats for you. I promise I can make you feel the same way for me. Just let me."

"...Do I even have any other choice? You kidnapped me."

Matthew's smile falters, eyes drooping, and he looks just as pathetic as he did all those years ago. He frowns flimsily. "I-I'm sorry. But I'll be good to you. Really. I'll be so good for you."

You shut your eyes and lean your head back. Your whole body hurts. Weighing out your options, you make a decision. If this Matthew is just as pathetic as the one you remember, then maybe you have a chance to escape if you butter him up enough.

"Fine. Untie me first."

Matthew's eyes widen. "R-Really? If you fight back, though, I'll have to use force, so, please, just... Don't run."

"I get it."

Eagerly, he brings out a knife and cuts through the rope. He rubs and massages your wrists for you when you're freed from your restraints. Dusts your clothes off for you, too. Though, you're wondering if what you think is a needlessly thoughtful action is just an excuse for him to feel you up.

"Let's get out of this basement, yeah? It's much better upstairs. Promise." He says, gently holding onto your hand. His are covered in bruises and small wounds. Butterflies are taking flight like fighter jets in his stomach.

When you stand up, Matthew pauses for a bit, violet eyes raking over your figure.

"Sorry, I just–" He starts, before cutting himself off by quickly stepping closer to you and encasing your body in a hug. He trembles and lets out a shaky breath, tightening his hold.

"I missed you so much," His voice cracks, "So happy you're here. Really. I feel like I'm on top of the world having you all to myself. You're all mine, finally."

Matthew takes in a sharp, obstructed breath. "Ugh, I–" He pulls away and his voice sounds all wet. He's crying. If you weren't so woozy, you would have scolded him when he wipes his face with his dirty jacket sleeve. Even now, you care about him, and maybe that's why he's fallen so helplessly in love with you.

He feels like he's shriveling into himself when all he does is simply breathe and what comes out is a sniffle. It's shameful, to boast about being a changed, stronger man, only to fall apart with a hug.

Wordlessly, he gulps his insecurities down his scratchy throat and grabs your wrist, taking you up the dusty wooden steps and leaving the basement. He does this with such little care it surprises you a little. It forces you to come to your senses in order to not stumble over your own heavy feet.

The actual interior of the house is much less industrial-looking than what you'd assumed from the basement. Rustic is the first word to pop into your mind to describe this place. Cottagecore, like the trendy people say, but... with a whole lot less of that trendy factor. It definitely is comfortable, which is a relief considering the storm outside.

Oh.

Looking out the window makes you realize something dreadful. You were never scared of the dark, pitch-darkness, even, but the vantablack surroundings beyond the glass begins to shroud you in a shadow of realization; there is a total absence of light. There are no lights, there are no houses nearby, there is nothing. You were in the middle of nowhere. You glance down to Matthew's battered sneakers and mud-caked jeans, and wonder how much trouble they went through to get you here.

He senses your staring, and looks to you, following your gaze and flushing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. This is no outfit for a reunion as important as this." He laughs sheepishly, weakly. He had managed to swallow his tears, with the only evidence left behind being his reddish waterline and nostrils.

"I'll, uh, I'll go change– Just sit down anywhere you'd like. Those drugs will take a bit to leave your system. I'll fix you something up to wash it down as soon as I'm back, sweetie." Matthew stays for a moment, gnawing on his lip like he's weighing something out in his mind, before deciding to just go for it. He leans in to quickly place a kiss to your temple, and despite his attempt at nonchalance, he lets out a thin, shaky breath, before scampering off into what you assume is his bedroom.

Still nauseated, you hobble over to the couch and collapse onto it with more grace than you expected. You spare only a few seconds before forcing yourself back up, making the most of your time alone to examine the area without the pressure of Matthew watching you.

You scan the room quickly, making note of any possible exits. There are only two in this living room. The window, and the lone door against the other side of the room. Nearing and examining the window, you quickly find that it has a keyed lock, and rush over to the door.

Keyed, padlocked, deadbolted. God, he really went through the trouble of installing multiple of these. You could only imagine what his keyring looked like. You wonder if you could nab it.

A long-fingered hand clamps over your shoulder, digging into your collarbones and pulling you back. It's over so quickly you don't even have time to complain and yell about the pain.

"What do you wanna eat?" Matthew asks sweetly. His voice, though recognizable, is different from the way you remember it. His signature softspoken-ness is still there, but it's hoarse, slightly deeper. Maybe it's because he started smoking, but no cigarette can be owed the credit of the subtle confidence in his tone– Maybe not confidence, but some sort of certainty.

Your irises tremble slightly at the startle as you return his stare, before gulping and answering. "...Anything's fine."

"Pancakes it is." He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. As he walks to the quaint kitchen, he pulls a black hair tie off of his bony wrist and begins tidying his wavy, honey blond locks into a low ponytail. His hair's grown so much since you last saw him, and you can't help but think it suits him well.

It's not just his hair, the rest of him has grown, too. Matthew's gained a few inches of height, though he looks slimmer than before. You're unsure if he lost weight, or if his height just makes him look thinner than he actually is. He's aware of it, that he looks slightly worse for wear, but he couldn't help but lose his appetite being away from you for so long. He'll gain it back eventually to look good for you. I have to, he tells himself.

Now that he's rid of his jacket and clad in just a loose, plain graphic shirt, you get a better look of the wounds on his arms. It's mostly around his knuckles and palms, maybe he's clumsy, maybe he does a lot of physical labor, those are strangers to you, but you're familiar with the thin scars on the inside of his wrists. They're faded and old now, thank god, but you remember the long teary nights in college you'd spend trying to convince him not to hurt himself just because you couldn't spend time with him that week. You made him promise he wouldn't do it anymore, and judging by the lack of fresh wounds, he's kept his word. Though those memories make your head throb, you feel slightly proud.

You wobble over to the couch, deciding to take a seat to try and soothe the nausea bubbling about inside you. You remember those red plaid pajamas he's wearing, too. Always wore them whenever you came over. You wince as another wave of pain ripples through your skull, and you wonder if he's purposefully dressed himself like that to remind him of his most favorite time in his life, one that he thought was yours too.

That smell of butter, vanilla, and syrup doesn't help. While your stomach does respond to the smell, you can't help but think of Matthew first before the food. He always smelled faintly of maple syrup, along with hints of lavender and men's shower gel. His old apartment reeked of it. You never thought such an innocuous scent could bring you so much irritation.

Matthew glances behind him, finding your zoned out, furrow-browed stare.

"Your head hurting real bad?" He calls out from behind his back, focusing on the current stack of pancakes he was building by the stove.

"Yeah," You say under your breath. You're not sure why you even bothered responding if you knew you were gonna answer so silently. A part of you felt it rude had you just been unresponsive, but good god, forget the formalities, he'd kidnapped you!

After a few more moments of head-clutching silence, Matthew arrives, sitting on the couch and placing a plate of pancakes on the wooden coffee table in front of you.

"Come on now, you should eat. You've been knocked out for a while, you're about to miss lunch and dinner." He says lightly, a faint sternness in his voice, like he were speaking to a child. You scoff feebly.

"Nah, I... I don't really feel like eating." Despite the apparent hunger pangs in your stomach, you feel terribly sick in the throat, like you were constantly on the verge of retching. As much as you wanted to down the food he's prepared for you, just the thought of eating makes you gag.

He lets out a small laugh. "Want me to feed you?" Scooting closer, he leans down and tilts his head to get a better look at your pallid, gloomy face, heavy with queasiness. You're still so beautiful, he thinks.

You shake your head adamantly at that, immediately regretting it at the dull pain that amounts from the action. "No, no, I'm alright, Mattie," You bite your tongue when you realize you've called him by that stupid nickname again. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

He can't help the cheesy expression on his face and the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "It'll get worse if you don't eat." He pouts. "Come on, at least five bites." He picks up a fork, already slicing a small bit for you, and holding it up to your mouth.

You look at it with a small frown and wince in your expression, and his eyes darken.

"I'll tell you where one of the keys are if you eat."

Those words grab your attention immediately, and haplessly, you take a bite of the pancake he offers you. Matthew lets out an airy giggle.

"I remember you used to complain so much about this. Whenever I tried to feed you." He says with a pointy, wistful smile. "You've changed a lot over the years. Still so in love with you, though." His gaze is heartbreakingly warm.

You look at him, heart stopping in your chest for a moment at how sincerely he's looking at you. His heart does the same, but just at the mere action of you meeting his eyes, acknowledging his existence.

"You too." You say simply, despite your thoughts being so much more than those two words imply. When his cheeks redden and his lips gape, you quickly correct yourself. "Uh, that you've changed. Not that I love you." He huffs a dry chuckle.

"Figured, but I wanted to believe it." Matthew cuts up another piece of the pancake and offers it to you. You bite, and his blush only darkens. While you're chewing, he speaks again.

"You're not wearing that bracelet I made you anymore." He makes a sad face.

You swallow, "It's in my apartment. Felt too bad to throw it away." The light returns to his lavender eyes and he grins warmingly at you.

The bracelet is simple, a thin twist bracelet made with red thread, all entwined together with love. Matthew gave it to you during a morning class, blushing and stuttering. He made one for himself, too, like the red string of fate, he giggled when he said this, lovingly looking at the matching bracelets around your wrists. Now that your vision was less foggy, you can now see that what you thought was a wound was actually that same bracelet around his wrist. The color has faded slightly, more dull with dirt and age, while yours is still as vibrant as the day he gave it to you. It's a shame he didn't nab it when abducting you.

"You still care about me." He grins, almond eyes sparkling with mirth.

"To my own detriment." You smile emptily at him, taking the fork from his grasp and quickly eating the rest of what you owe him.

"The key?" You remind him, and he seems like a lost puppy for a moment, before it hits him, his pointy-fanged grin widening. He chuffs bashfully, as if a secret of his had been revealed, before he answers, awfully joyous; "Oh, I was lying." He laughs almost childishly.

A feeling of cold dread and shame drips from your head and down your shoulders. Of course, why did you assume so easily that he'd just hand that to you on a silver platter? At the same time, of course you would, he's Matthew Williams, the same man who gave you his coat and paid your bus fare the first time you two met. He insisted you kept it, said it suited you better and he's got hundreds more like it anyways. You did, you kept using it over the years even when you graduated. You used it this morning, maybe that's why it was so easy for him to recognize you. Your gullibility strikes you with chagrin and you can only retaliate by pushing back.

"What? We made a deal. Why would you lie to me?"

Matthew's usually docile expression falls, and suddenly you feel like you genuinely have no idea who this man is anymore, and you regret thinking that you could just walk all over him and out that door like you did all those years ago.

"Do you think you have any control over this situation, sweetie?" He crawls closer, palms dipping the couch cushions. "Did you really think I'd guard you so loosely? After all these years?" The collar of his shirt hangs from his neck as he leans down, collarbones prominent. "Did you think I'd let you leave me again? Stupid." He spits, though it seems like the final insult was more directed towards himself than you.

You scoot back until your back hits the armrest, and before you can try and slide off the couch, a lithe arm cages you in.

"It tore me up, ripped me to shreds and I came back a different person, but the only thing that stayed, that didn't change, was my love for you– No, my love for you is what broke me in the first place. Please, god, just soothe me a little." Matthew's voice crescendos until it cracks, hysterical expression making you relive the hell that was your college days together.

"Just love me a little." He whimpers weakly, before pressing a desperate kiss to your lips, moaning in surprise as if he wasn't the one to kiss you first. It's short, brief, like it zaps him, too much for his poor racing heart to handle. The bright smile returns to his face when he pulls away, breathless. It stays despite the horrified look on your face.

"Why are you so disgusted? You already tasted plenty of me in those pancakes. You looked so cute eating up my spit." He teases, his glee evident in his voice, the loose strands of his hair tickling your face. The realization of what you had just consumed, what now sits heavily in the pit of your stomach, was something of his, makes you dizzy with abhorrence. You try to push him off, but he slams your shoulder back into the cushions, hands vice-like and heavy against your skin.

Matthew is panting, and when he catches his breath, his eyes widen and his irises shake. You can see his pupils contract and dilate. "I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry– Didn't mean to– Ah, merde." He whimpers, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. He's already reduced to a groveling mess, and you've barely said anything. "Please love me, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you!" He cries, and you hate that you really do feel sorry for him.

You hate him, hate the shit he keeps putting you through, hate how soft his voice is, hate how pathetic he is, hate how reliant he is on you, hate seeing his tears. You hate how he still manages to pull pity from you despite everything he's put you through.

With a shriek through gritted teeth, you fist his shirt and yank him down, this kiss is intended, and definitely felt like, more akin to an act of harm over love, but poor Matthew can't tell the difference.

He melts into it with a loving sigh despite his bleeding lips.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Zombie + Restoration Hobbyist Reader Blurb

-

"Blink once if you can hear me."

It calls to them from the darkness - a voice melancholic yet strangely robotic in its application. It's familiar - like something they've heard in a dream. They can't move. Their arms feel as though they're pinned beneath boulders. Their legs feel weightless. The place in their mouth were their tongue sat felt dry and... exposed. Left with no other choice, their eyelids flicker upwards. The flesh over their right eye feels to be constructed of foreign tissue - metal scrapping over the weight in the socket where their eye once was. The image of the figure standing over them is fleeting, lips pulled thin in an expression of approval.

"Blink twice."

Their eyes flutter open for a second time - remaining there as two finger pry apart the lids of their still functioning eye.

"Good. It's fortunate that you are still able to hear. At the moment, my fixes are merely cosmetic so I'm afraid you won't be able to see out of that eye of yours for some time. If you are like other patients I've had the issue will work out on its own."

Their eye rolls idly in their head - struggling to make out any features of the person through the blazing lights overhead.

"You must have questions. Forgive me- I wasn't expecting you to wake up before I had time to work on your jaw. Please use this to communicate if you wish, you can ask me anything."

Function to their left hand returns - their wrist raw and lacking the binding weight shacking it in place. Restraints? Smooth plastic rolls beneath their fingertip as they flex the stiff joints of their digits. Their fingers trace out the rectangular shape of the keyboard's space bar. Gliding gracelessly over the keys, a hand helps stabilize their moments as they begin to type. A computer monitor awakens from its sleep as words pop up on its screen.

"Where am I?"

A common question. "You are in my workplace. I repair things from time to time to keep myself busy. I found you in a creek nearby during a stroll the other night. Thankfully, you hadn't been in there long or I would've had to replace more than the skin of your eye."

Their hand draws up to their eye, feeling the odd texture over their eye. It's felt.

"I hate to bring up any bad memories from the past, but I need to ask in order to provide you with the care you require. Do you remember anything from the day you died?"

Died?... That's... honestly not the most surprising thing about this ordeal. A stabbing pain blisters at the back of their mind as they try to remember. A boat. A shotgun. Laughter. Tears. Please, no. It's not funny just put it down. Please. please-

"Boating trip. They said if I tagged along I could finally be apart of their group. I thought I could trust them. They said they were my friends. They said"

Their body lurches forward - fighting against the bite of their bonds. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why are they still here? Garbble wails ricochet off the bedroom walls. In their time of misery, another memory rushes to the forefront of their mind. Their body convulsing on an operating table. The gentle hushes of another as they pet back their hair - drying blackened tears from the corners of their eyes. A compassionate hand from the world that had abandoned them when they needed someone most.

"Hold me."

"What?"

"I remember.. Arms around me. A voice calling out to me. Promising me everything would be okay. That was you - right? Hold me. I don't want to be alone. Please, don't let me be alone anymore."

The hobbyist removes the glove from their dominant hand, wiping the leathery flesh were thick, congealing tears pool. You pull your newest patient closer - mindful of their stitches as you rub small circles along their spine.

"You can stay here as long as you like. While I'm not the most social person, I can't turn away someone who needs my assistance."

Their sobs are reduced to small whimpers as they cling into you - dying your apron in various fluids as their arm locks around your midsection in a vice grip. You grab onto their other wrist, preventing them from wrestling it out of their chains leaving you with more work in the future if their skin were to tear.

"I know this is a lot for you, but please try not to damage yourself further."

Their arm drops from your waist - fingers flying over the keyboard on a flurry.

"What's your name?"

"My name?... You can just call me Y/n."

[casstiwls]

content warnings : fem!reader, softdom!sam, praise, lack of shame, creampie, breeding kink, taking advantage, selfishness, 13.3k+ characters

The night was truly beautiful, with a clear sky dotted by stars. The moon shone brightly, casting a gentle glow across the graveyard stones. Each stone glimmered, appearing almost magical in the soft light. Earlier, rain had fallen, leaving the ground cool and fresh. Tiny droplets clung to the grass and leaves, sparkling like diamonds in the dim illumination.

You leaned against one of the sturdy trees, feeling its rough bark against your back. With a practiced motion, you pulled out the joint you had tucked away in your sweatshirt pocket. As you lit it, a small flame flickered, illuminating your face for a brief moment. Inhaling deeply, you felt the smoke fill your lungs, bringing a sense of calm. A soft smile crept onto your lips. For some, being in a graveyard might seem strange or even unsettling. But for you, it was comforting.

This place, though filled with tombstones and memories, felt safe. It was quiet and serene, empty of the noise and chaos of daily life, yet alive with the spirits of many who had once walked the earth. Each grave held stories, lives lived, and experiences that lingered in the air. As you enjoyed the moment, letting the smoke curl and drift away, a sudden noise caught your attention.

A sharp crack of wood echoed through the stillness, startling you. It was odd to hear anything at this hour. You turned your head sharply, scanning the shadows. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a figure. Your heart raced for a brief moment, but you shook your head, dismissing the thought. Perhaps it was just your imagination, playing tricks in the dark. With a deep breath, you refocused and continued to smoke, allowing the relaxing haze to wash over you once more. As you took another drag, the effects of the plant began to wash over you, pulling your senses into a haze. Suddenly, the figure you thought you glimpsed earlier became clearer, solidifying in front of you. It was none other than Sam Winchester, the younger brother of Dean, his familiar face bringing both confusion and surprise.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted you with an inviting smile that seemed out of place in the dim light of the night. "What are you doing here at this hour?" His voice held a playful tone. You blinked, your eyes heavy and bloodshot from the high, struggling to focus on his features. "I'm smoking, can't you see?" you replied, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. Sam stepped closer, towering over you, his presence both comforting and daunting. As he looked into your eyes, you felt a strange tension swirling in the air. There was something in the depths of his gaze that warned you to run, to get away as fast as possible. But your body felt rooted to the spot, weighed down by the intoxicating buzz coursing through you and the rapid beating of your heart. "What do you want, Sam?" you asked, forcing the words out, your mind tangled in a fog that made it hard to think clearly. "I just wanted to see you, away from Dean. Just us," he replied, a hint of sincerity lacing his voice. The way he said it left you uncertain, caught between a feeling of curiosity and a sense of caution.

"Just us huh? " you repeat taking another long drag from your joint. The smoke fills your lungs and you exhale slowly letting it drift into the cool night air. Your voice emerges huskier than you intended perhaps due to the lingering haze of smoke or maybe from the intensity of Sam's gaze which seems to pierce right through you in the silvery moonlight. "Here in a graveyard? " Sam chuckles softly a warm sound that contrasts with the eerie surroundings. He shrugs a casual gesture that belies the weight of the moment. "Seems appropriate doesn't it? A beautiful girl the moonlight casting its glow and whispers of eternity all around us... " His tone shifts becoming more intimate as he leans in closer his breath mingling with the night air. "Besides who wouldn't want a private moment with a captivating vision like you? " You furrow your brow slightly at his smooth words a flicker of amusement dancing in your glazed eyes. "Private moment? With the Winchester brothers infamous for interrupting each other's everything? " You take another drag savoring the taste then blow out a stream of smoke that curls teasingly between you. You shifted slightly against the tree, trying to steady yourself as Sam’s presence filled the space around you. His expression was soft, yet there was an intensity in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. Here, between the silent stones and the whispering night, the world outside seemed to fade away.

"You always did know how to find the most interesting places," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that matched the distant rustle of leaves. Sam's gaze lingered on your face, tracing the curve of your lips, the outline of your features in the moonlight. You felt warmth spread through you, curling like the smoke from the joint between your fingers. The cool night air mixed with the warmth of his nearness, creating an exhilarating mix that left you with a slight shiver. "And here I thought I’d have the night to myself,” you replied, a teasing lilt in your voice, trying to mask the flutter of nerves and excitement he stirred within you.Sam's smile widened, a subtle acknowledgment of the tension that crackled like static electricity between you. He moved closer, his movements slow and measured, respecting the space but closing the distance with a magnetic pull that was hard to resist. "I couldn't resist the chance to get you alone," he said, his tone holding a promise that sent a delicious thrill through you. Your heart raced, a shared understanding passing silently in the space between you. The night's chill seemed to intensify every sensation—the rough bark against your back, the cool breeze on your skin, the heat from Sam's body as he drew nearer. Every heartbeat echoed loudly in the quiet, mingling with the whispered secrets of the graveyard.With a slow, deliberate motion, Sam reached out, brushing a gentle thumb across your cheek, his touch soft yet electrifying. "Why here, though?" he asked, curiosity mingling with the warmth in his voice as he searched your eyes.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, your mind a haze of emotions and sensations. "It's peaceful," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Away from everything... it's just... quiet." He nodded, understanding, and his hand lingered, a comforting presence. “I get that,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Sometimes, you need a place to just breathe.” As you lingered in the shared silence, the air between you thickened with unspoken words and desires. Sam’s gaze flicked down to your lips, and an urge surged within you—an overwhelming need to close the space that separated you both. “Sam…” you breathed, the name escaping your lips like a plea. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. He leaned into your palm, his eyes darkening as the warmth of the moment enveloped you both. With a gentle tug, you pulled him closer, drawn by an invisible thread that seemed to bind you together. The moment hung between you, electric and alive, and you could feel the world around you fade into a blur. The graveyard, once a comforting refuge, now felt like a secret sanctuary for the heat swelling between you. Without a word, Sam closed the gap, his lips capturing yours in a soft yet urgent kiss. It was tentative at first—a brush of warmth that sent waves of desire coursing through you. You responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, allowing the warmth of him to seep into your very core. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of smoke and something distinctly Sam, as if he were a part of the night itself. His hands found your waist, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you. You melted against him, pushing back against the rough bark of the tree, feeling alive as his body pressed against yours. His fingers traveled along your sides, igniting every nerve in their wake, a silent declaration of the passion simmering just below the surface. With a slight tilt of your head, you deepened the kiss further, your hands tangling in his hair as you lost yourself in the moment. Sam responded, his hands moving to cradle your face, holding you delicately as if you were something precious and fragile. Breathless, you pulled away just enough to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other. “We shouldn't…” you whispered, though the words felt hollow against the burning desire building within you. “Why not?” Sam murmured, his voice low and coaxing. “This feels right. You feel right.” His gaze was fierce, and any hesitation dissolved beneath the weight of his longing. You could see the desire swirling in his eyes, a reflection of your own need. Despite the surroundings, the world faded away, leaving just the two of you. Every heartbeat felt like a step deeper into something uncharted, something thrilling. With a soft push, you tilted your head back, exposing your neck to him. Sam’s lips found their way to your skin, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, igniting sparks that danced across your body. You gasped, a shiver running down your spine as you surrendered to the sensations, losing yourself in the intimacy of the moment.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, the soft warmth of his breath sending another wave of heat through you. Encouraged, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, each kiss igniting the night around you. In that magical, moonlit graveyard, nothing else mattered except the two of you, the heat of your bodies, and the quiet urgency of the moment unfolding between spirited breaths and whispered promises. As they continue to explore each other, Sam's hands slide up your sides, gently cupping your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, already hard from the chill in the air and the heat of their passion. You arch into his touch, a low moan escaping your lips. Feeling your reaction, Sam's mouth finds one of your nipples, sucking it between his lips while teasing the other with his fingers. His tongue swirls around the hard peak, causing you to tremble. A shudder rolls down your spine as he alternates between them, his hot breath fanning your skin. The sensation is intense, and the pleasure is overwhelming. Sam's hand slides lower, seeking the hem of your shirt. With deft fingers, he lifts it just enough to reveal your bare stomach, then resumes his exploration of your breasts. The cold night air brushes against your exposed flesh, heightening the contrast with the warmth of his lips and hands. Meanwhile, your own hands wander, finding the bulge in his pants. With eager fingers, you fumble with the buttons, freeing his hardened length. It springs free, pulsating under your touch. A low growl rumbles through Sam's throat as he bites down gently on your nipple, his grip on you tightening. You stroke him, feeling the veins and the slickness of pre-cum. As you continue, Sam's kisses trail down your body, leaving a fiery path that seems to echo the flames within you. He reaches your navel and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, easing them down over your hips. Exposed, you feel vulnerable, yet utterly alive as his fingers graze your wetness, making you quiver. He slips one digit inside, coating it with your arousal before adding another. Your back arches as he fills you, his fingers stretching you in preparation for him.

The sensation is exquisite, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat building within you. Sam's lips find yours again, kissing you deeply as he pulls his fingers out and aligns himself with your entrance. "Are you ready?" he breathes, his voice thick with wanton need. You nod, unable to speak, your heart pounding as he guides himself into you. The initial stretch is intense, but Sam moves slowly, giving you time to adjust. Once fully enveloped, he pulls back slightly before thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the fullness, pleasure mingling with pain. "Fuck," Sam whispers, his own breath hitched. He pulls out and thrusts back in, the rhythm of their movements picking up as they both fall deeper into desire. Sam's hips grind against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the silence of the graveyard. His mouth finds your neck, nipping and sucking as you cling to him, your body rocking with each powerful thrust. You moan, the night air filled with the symphony of their lust, as the pleasure builds within you.

He's relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body until, suddenly, you're on the edge. You cry out, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave, leaving you weak and trembling. The sight of your release pushes Sam over the edge, and he growls, his own climax surging through him. Hot and intense, he spills himself deep within you before collapsing onto you, both of them panting. For a moment, the two of you lay there, intertwined and spent. The world around them fades into insignificance, replaced by the warmth of each other's embrace. This fleeting moment of ecstasy becomes a sanctuary in the midst of a graveyard, the epitome of life and passion amidst the tranquil reminder of mortality.

[nanaminokanojo]

Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar

JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking​ things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo x you/afab reader TW/CW: angst | smut/implied smut | sorta dubcon | age gaps | aged up characters | kind fluffy | mentions of alcohol/drugs | some mafia stuff | mdni Word Count: 8.1k

MASTERLIST

NANAMI

'I can't see you right now.'

Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.

They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew. 

Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense? 

If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything. 

Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations. 

However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life. 

The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card. 

How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush. 

"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.

A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life. 

You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear. 

You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time. 

It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract. 

You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.

You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.

"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."

Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.

That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.

You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.

"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.

It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore." 

Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.

You flinched. "Please don't."

Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Why not?"

His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.

"I'm ending this...this..."

"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."

He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"

You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.

Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.

"Say that again," he told you.

"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.

"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.

You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."

At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.

"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.

This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."

He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.

But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."

"I – what?"

"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."

Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."

"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.

"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."

"I won't be..."

"Stop it! You said so yourself –"

"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"

You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"

At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."

You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."

Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"

You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."

"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you. 

Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."

You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.

Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.

"I know."

He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."

Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.

"Then I love you, too."

TOJI

"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.

"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"

You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.

You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.

He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.

Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.

Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.

That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.

And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.

The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."

You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.

And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.

You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.

You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."

"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"

You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."

At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"

Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."

He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"

"I...I can't..."

"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"

"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.

"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"

How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?

"If that's what you want to think, then fine."

"So fucking tell me, woman!"

"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.

"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.

"Let me go."

"And if I don't?"

"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."

"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.

"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.

"Toji, what the – mmph!"

Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."

Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.

"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.

He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."

"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"

He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."

"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.

He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"

"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."

To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it. 

When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"

"What?"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"

You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"

"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."

"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.

Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."

"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.

"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.

You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"

He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"

You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"

You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.

"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."

"And if I go anyway?"

He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."

"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?

~*~

GOJO

"Where have you been?"

The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.

You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.

You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.

Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."

Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"

He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"

"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."

"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.

"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"

Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."

Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car. 

That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.

He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.

Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.

To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.

They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.

You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.

What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.

But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.

The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.

"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."

His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.

"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"

You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.

Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"You are."

"What?"

You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.

"I breached our contract."

Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"

You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."

"You miss me?"

"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."

"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."

A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."

"What role?"

You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."

"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.

"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"

"So what exactly are you telling me?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.

He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"

"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.

"You do?"

"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."

"Y/N, I'm confused."

You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.

"Anyway, you know now. I should go." 

Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"

You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"

Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.

It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.

"N-no. Stop."

"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."

Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"

You shook your head. "It's not your fault."

"No..."

It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."

"We signed a contract..."

He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.

"This is my doing."

"No –"

"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."

"What?" Now you're confused.

"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."

You were taken aback, to say the least.

"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."

"Satoru..." 

"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."

Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?

Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.

"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.

"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.

You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?" 

Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."

You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."

"Going once..."

You relaxed in his hold.

"Twice?"

"No."

His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"

Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."

You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.

"Lucky for you, I don't want out."

~*~

I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

lilia dorm uniform vignettes + book 7 parallels

I was rereading Lilia's Dorm Uniform vignettes recently and honed in on the third part, which reminded me a lot of the events of book 7. I think it's highly likely that part 3 here foreshadows book 7, similar to how Ortho's Precision Gear vignettes foreshadowed the original Ortho's passing, revealed in book 6.

***Lilia Dorm Uniform vignette(s) and Book 7 spoilers!***

Quick recap, these vignettes focus on Lilia looking after a baby bat with an injury. The third and final part involves Malleus chatting with him about the experience. Lilia describes parenting as thus: "There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection."

Knowing what we know now... It sounds as though Lilia is reflecting back on his time traveling the world in hopes of finding a way to hatch Malleus from the egg. Firstly, Lilia (especially in the past) has expressed sentiments about being alone. He was an orphan taken in as a ward by the Draconias, yet he still never felt as though he "fit", not with the way the senate treats him like a lesser being, and not with his two best friends (Maleanor and Raverne) marrying and conceiving a child--starting a family, something Lilia feels he does not have and cannot have himself. There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. And that's true of Malleus as well. His father is missing and presumed dead, his mother died in a battle to ensure his safety, and his grandmother is kept busy with royal duties to be there for him all the time. That's why Lilia had to step up as his father figure--because otherwise Malleus would have no guidance, just like Lilia did in his youth, which led him into becoming closed off and unwilling to learn about the world beyond Briarland. He doesn't want Malleus--or any of his "kids"--to perpetuate the hatred and distrust that claimed so many lives and left scars on the survivors.

Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. This line is reflective of the experiences Lilia had on his travels. In the beginning, it was particularly difficult due to the prevailing anti-fae sentiments among humans. Lilia was not welcome in their communities; he'd have things and nasty words thrown at him and literally be chased out of towns. True, he's also had to deal with rations and always being alert while serving as a general, but it feels particularly frustrating in this context because 1) none of his men are around to support him in these moments; he is lacking the feeling of being a part of a group, and 2) the harsh treatment is being committed by a group for which he cannot retaliate, so it forces Lilia to stand there and just take it... Both conditions which are also true of Lilia when he is able to safely bring Malleus's egg to Castle Blackscale. The senate gang up on him, isolate him, and deem him unworthy of touching the heir... and Lilia can't do anything about it. He isn't accepted at home and he isn't accepted by the world. This makes it that much more meaningful when, later on his travels, he meets an elderly couple in Harveston that welcome him into their house and home. They offer him a warm bed, food, and, more importantly, they are his company. They want to hear his stories, learn more about him and his life experiences. They’re that light at the end of his tunnel--but those things aren't promised to him, and Lilia knows he can't count on them all the time, especially as he travels to the most remote regions. And don't we all fear that dreadful realization of being out on our own with no net to catch us if we fall?

You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. Again, Lilia is also speaking about himself. He was forced to abandon his princess and flee with her child. He lost his best friends and large sections of his home country to a bloody conflict. He took the senate's verbal abuse and degradation. All of this, he faced alone--even when Baur tries to stand up for him, Lilia silences his ally because, deep in his heart, he thinks he deserves this. The wild bat incapable of love, only able to slaughter, doomed to be alone forever. It's through his forced exposure to the world that Lilia learns to open up, and it's through the connections--after enduring so many hardships, so many trials and tribulations--he makes with others that he comes to learn he is capable of love. As Silver says, this must be why the happiest moment of his father's life is the moment of Malleus hatching. A dragon's egg can only do so with the love of a parent--and Lilia has always been that for him. Diasomnia is Lilia's new family, and he's no longer alone. The problem now is that it's Malleus's turn to learn harsh life lessons, and he isn't exactly prepared for them. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection. I think this line perfectly summarizes Lilia's motivations for leaving in the fashion that he does. When Lilia attempted to depart NRC without so much as a formal farewell to Malleus and Silver, many fans were confused as to why he was acting so callous towards his children. Some theorized that Lilia was lying about losing his magic or had some other ulterior motive for lying--when, really, I think the answer is much simpler than that. Lilia wanted to leave as soon as he could, without facing his kids, because that's just in his nature. As Malleus points out in the vignettes: "Is that why you took the approach you did? [...] I suspect this bat will thrive in the wild." This entire time, Lilia hasn't been the gentlest or the most prudent with the baby bat. He fed it milk from a cup instead of a bottle (which resulted in getting the bat all wet), roughly toweled it off, allowed it to hang in a tree when it may not be ready to fly yet, brushed off the possibility of it being hurt again if it falls out, etc. On a surface-level, it looks like bad caretaking. But Malleus wonders if it's intentional. Because the bat was put through those experiences, it can take care of itself once it has parted from Lilia's care. I suspect Lilia may think the same of how he raises his own children. After all, Silver and Sebek sometimes bring up how hellish Lilia's training sessions with them were. Some of his bad childcare is due to Lilia being disorganized and just winging it in the moment, yeah (something which Malleus comments on at the end of the vignettes)--but a lot of how he raises others is also built on the idea that this should make the kids stronger and able to stand on their own.

When Lilia goes to return the baby bat to its flock, he says, "Go on, little one. You can't cling to my hand forever. Get flying." Then Malleus laughs and remarks, "Heh, it seems rather attached to you. It doesn't want to let go." Lilia continues with, "I'm shaking my arm and it's still not letting go... Goodness gracious. I didn't raise [the baby bat] to be so clingy. There comes a time in every creature's life when they have to take action. This is your time, little one. Don't miss your window." And, at last, when the bat is able to take off, Malleus realizes, "[...] I must say, it was rather harsh of you to forcibly shake off the poor fellow when it clearly liked you. Did you intentionally act detached so that it wouldn't fall too far behind the colony?"

THIS WHOLE SCENE IS AN ANALOGY TO LILIA TRYING TO LEAVE NRC WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS KIDS.

In this analogy, Malleus is that bat that Lilia has reared--and when it comes time for Lilia to leave, Malleus won't allow for it. Malleus is the clingy baby bat gripping onto his caretaker for dear life. I wonder if Lilia knew that his prince would have a hard time with it, so he tries to have one last happy send-off--so he can grant Malleus the happiness of being invited to something, to be included, and to provide him ample opportunities to socialize with his peers from all the dorms and make other connections so they can be there for him when Lilia is no longer able to. Then Malleus was late, and the time for Lilia to depart has already arrived. But maybe it's better this way, Lilia may have reasoned with himself. If Malleus doesn't appear, maybe he can't be hurt. If Lilia acts detached, maybe... just maybe... it will give Malleus the final shove he needs to let him go, to open up to the people who are going to be present around him, so he won't "fall too far behind the colony", like what happened with the actual baby bat he raised. This is especially suspect because Lilia makes the same plea to the first years earlier in the party by asking them to please give Sebek a lil' push if he ever needs it. "Just... If you notice [Sebek is] ever stuck at some point during your time here... I would ask that you card soldiers give him a little nudge."

THE LILIA DORM UNIFORM CARD FIRST CAME OUT ON THE JP SERVER IN FEB 2023 ALONG WITH SOME EARLY BOOK 7 UPDATES 😩 It’s such good foreshadowing for what happens much later in the same book… OTL I just hope that Malleus is able to learn the lessons Lilia wants him to. Then Malleus can finally be the baby bat that’s able to take flight on his own and join a flock without his guardian at his side forever and ever…

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.6

06 : SELFISH DESIRES

SUM : it's your chance to make amends and push aside your selfish desires - your heart will ache but they're worth it 

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; angst ; idiots in love ; unexpected turn of events ; sirius is the main character here ; jk jk ; it's you~ hehe~ ; you'll see what i mean ; wolfstar have a heated argument ; i almost cried writing it ; i hate seeing them like that ; poor james ; james needs a hug ; regulus makes an appearance! ; dramatic sirius black ; regulus is a good brother ; sirius being an instigator ; we love him for it though ; you can't just leave them again! ; no fluff here kiddos ; but kiddos stay away! ; just cover your innocent eyes! 

LENGTH : 3.7k

← PREV. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

“You’re disgusting,” Sirius manages an indifferent glance over at his younger brother before resuming his miserable, unmoving position on the sofa — Regulus’ sofa. The obvious detachment Sirius has to the situation only stirs his younger brother’s bubbling anger, “It’s almost been a full month! And you’re letting yourself rot away on my sofa; get a hold of yourself!” No response. Regulus shakes his head with a drawn out sigh, “you usually don’t stay around this long whenever there’s an argument… I wonder what’s happened this time…”

Deeming his older brother completely hopeless, Regulus returns to his sparse but sleek kitchen just as the kettle whistles its readiness to be poured for tea.   

Sirius breaths an audible sigh and grimaces at the stench of his breath. The mix of excessive alcohol, countless cigarettes and mountains of junk food didn’t make for a good concoction on his tongue, definitely not for fresh breath. When was the last time he had brushed his teeth? He brings a hand up to push straggling strands of hair away from his view but grumbles when the curls had knotted up too much for him to comb his hair back uninterrupted. Stone grey eyes look down at his figure, stagnant and pale, weighed heavy from low spirits. 

What followed the night you left their flat was the worst fight they have ever had. It was mainly between him and Remus while James remained in the background, too downhearted to contribute anything to the verbal warfare happening before him. He was spoiled with love since birth. As an only child with loving parents, who never fought in front of him, whenever Sirius and Remus argued, James was left paralysed with despair. It was always shocking to him how nasty those fights became; his parents never fought like that. Sirius could see it in his sweet hazel eyes that James wanted desperately to have peace but didn’t know how to steer things in that direction. He had tried before, many times, to defuse the situation but both Sirius and Remus were too stubborn and hot-headed from the argument as well as their suddenly stark differences in opinion to back down. 

As unfortunate as it is to think about, these fights happened often, recurring in the same exact way – originating from opposing opinions, primarily between him and Remus. They would try to keep it together but it would just keep piling up until someone snaps and then there’s no dispelling their disputes. James either takes a side or none at all (usually the later) and Sirius storms out of the flat to stay with Regulus. 

He should feel guilty for being such a burden to his younger brother. He should have more pride in himself than to allow Regulus to ever see him in such a depressed and unpleasant state. Lack of hygiene, self care and self maintenance manifests into something so repulsive and unsightly, Sirius would usually be back and making amends within a week or two – encouraged by his own lack of cleanliness and his commitment to run from the disease of laziness. 

But it’s been more than that now. Nearly a month, Regulus says. Time just passes by, slow and tolerant, so unlike him, and yet, Sirius still managed to lose complete track of it. This is the longest they’ve ever had a dispute without reconciling.  

His own stubbornness is definitely a factor. He had been right all along. If only they, mostly Remus, had listened to him. James was fully on board but Remus was stubbornly defiant and managed to convince the former otherwise. 

“Do you think she’s the type of person who would embrace such an unconventional relationship with open arms?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Moony,” Sirius grits his teeth, his inner thoughts and reasoning ached to be heard and let out coherently. In his mind, it all made sense to do things the way he suggests, so why couldn’t his boyfriend understand him?! It doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to listen to him at this point! “She won’t understand if we don’t say anything to her! We have to be forward and bold! Do it now before something happens!”

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

“How can you be so sure? We need to be honest with her, it’s not fair to her and it’s, frankly, deceitful to keep her in the dark about all this!”

“We can’t be too sure that she’ll accept us. If that happens then we’ll never see her again– I don’t want that, do you?!” 

“We won’t know unless we say something, do something, anything!”

“Please just trust me, Siri,” Remus begs, his loud voice lowering to a soft plea, his beautiful brown eyes no longer fierce or piercing but kind and warm again, with a hint of fear. Sirius can sympathise with that creeping terror, an anxiety that wants to swallow you whole and keep you in a dark abyss for eternity, “I don’t want to frighten her…”

The first time, Sirius gave in, weak for his love and weak for the reasoning behind his proposal on the matter concerning you. The dark-haired tattooist couldn’t fault his lover for that but, in hindsight, he should have argued his side more, maybe then, you wouldn’t have disappeared like that…

“Hey, your phone won’t stop pinging,” Regulus alerts, appearing out of thin air and surprising Sirius enough to sit up and alert with wide eyes, “will you finally read their messages to you?” with some reluctance, Sirius reaches for his phone and proceeds to look through his messages while Regulus takes a seat opposite him, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

The younger Black brother was just about to begin reading another one of his classic novel favourites when a rush of air flew by him, ruffling the small strands of hair and whipping about the billowing steam from his mug of tea. Moments later, the sound of his shower turning on full blast echos through his flat and a smile graces his lips. 

“It’s about time…”

Lingering guilt had plagued you all night long and you barely managed to get a wink of sleep. It, however, meant that you were able to better prepare lunch for the boys the following day. While cooking, you abandon all negative feelings to focus on only the good, not wanting any harmful emotions to diffuse into the food and saturate it with bad tastes. Your eyebags weren’t a pretty sight but it was easily fixable with a touch of makeup. 

You tried to look your best for the day. Fortunately, the early summer sun inspired your motivations further. Yes, you’ve made the terrible mistake of selfishly pushing them away to nurse your own battered soul and unrequited feelings, but this was your time to make amends, to make things right… to see Sirius again. 

You never felt right after you accused him of cheating on Remus and James with each other, only to find out that he was far more loving and loyal than that. You were embarrassed and ashamed to have ever thought so negatively about him, jumping to conclusions like an immature, thoughtless child. It was wonderful seeing James and Remus again, your heart was practically soaring in your chest as it disregarded all lingering feelings of misery and dejection. But now, your chest felt incredibly tight as your heart ached to catch a simple glimpse of Sirius.  

You carefully pack away the lovingly prepared food and desserts into your largest, most durable shopping bag before getting dressed. It was only natural that you managed to make more than you usually made for the boys, seeing as you wanted to spoil them rotten after being so childish the last few weeks. Since the weather was pleasant, you opted for a cute mini dress with a light, flowy material that was comfortable and soft. Over top, you wore a cropped cardigan that had long sleeves, enough to reach past your fingertips. For jewellery, you wore a simple necklace and slipped into a strappy pair of mid-heeled platforms that weren’t too tall. Casual but cute. 

Approaching the studio doors, your grip on the strap of your bag tightens and your breath hitches. They hadn’t taken the notice down and the bold, red letters of their ‘CLOSED’ sign glared at you angrily. 

Were they inside? Should you knock? Neither Remus or James actually agreed to your sudden choice to meet for lunch the night before. Did this mean that they didn’t want you to be in their lives anymore?... But… but you wanted to make things right! You wanted to apologise! You want to be friends with them again! You’ll tell them right away – tell them how you would do anything just to remain by their side, even if it’s just as a friend, you’ll be happy for them! You won’t be selfish anymore, you won’t covet anything more than friendship with them, that’s all you want! Not that they’ve ever heard of your true desires—

“Well?” A familiar voice speaks up behind you, putting an abrupt end to your panicked inner monologue, “Aren’t you going to knock?” 

Swiftly spinning in place, you smile brightly at the biker and tattooist standing before you, dressed in all black, with heavy, lace-up boots and his signature leather jacket, “Sirius!” 

He doesn’t breathe a word to you, eyeing your hefty bag before briefly meeting your eyes and making his way over. His long strides made it so that he reached you in no time but he didn’t stop. With a light gasp, he had backed you up into the left of their studio’s double-door front entrance. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut tight, not knowing what to do as your heart pounded deafeningly against your eardrums. 

A moment passes and you feel his hand brush against yours before your portly bag of packed food is taken from you. A wave of relief washed over your aching shoulder as the weight disappeared but such a diminutive alleviation of discomfort couldn’t swamp the trepidation in your heart. Sirius was different. 

“Siri–”

“Let’s head inside,” he had opened the right hand door and easily slipped through with your bag. Alone and in the quiet, you felt like crying. You wanted to cry, desperately but you knew that it would offer little to no reassurance. So, with a heavy heart, you followed Sirius inside and closed the studio door behind you. 

The air was stale but, in it, lingered a familiar scent that you had come to love, it was a clean, almost clinical smell from the regular use of disinfectant and bleach. You love this parlour so much, it was filled with so many good memories, ones of soft affection through tender words and gentle caresses. Despite the earlier interaction, you couldn’t help but smile just from the wave of romantic sentiment washing over you. 

“You’re here,” Remus greets with a tired smile as James sits on the opposite end of the sofa with a shy grin directed towards you, his hazel eyes looking elsewhere.

“Sorry if I’m late,” you managed a weak smile, “I didn’t know if the door was open or not. Thankfully, Sirius was there to help me in,” Sirius didn’t sit down despite the many available seating spaces and chose to lean his back against a far wall, instead. James couldn’t meet your eyes and Remus was sneakily massaging his temple as he leaned his face against his large hand, “let’s eat, shall we? I hope you guys are hungry,”  

It was never this awkward. Or quiet. Especially when sharing your homemade lunch together. James would usually be giving you endless praise through large, mid-chewed mouthfuls while Sirius laughed at the ridiculous sounds and faces he’d pull trying to speak coherently through the mouthful of food, and Remus would shake his head, his amusement by the display evident in the warm glimmer of his eyes. However, James doesn’t have as big of an appetite today and Sirius stands alone with his tupperware, barely touching his food. Remus is the only one eating a substantial amount besides you. Although, you’ve gradually slowed your own chewing. 

What have you done?... 

What happened to all of you?

Your shame brought your gaze down, making your head weigh heavier than usual as you give up on communicating anything with the boys. This wasn’t how it was meant to go…what should you do now? The pain in your heart was unbearable. 

Shoulders slumped and confidence dried up, you struggled to think of what to do. You should have prepared a speech or something. It was naive of you to think that simply coming over with a homemade lunch would fix anything. Things are never going to be the same, no matter how much you hope and pray for them to be. 

You’re hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless…

This was your worst fear come to life. You had feared rejection but seeing them unloving towards each other, barely communicating and broken apart, your stomach collapsed in on itself as your heart fell to a million pieces. You didn’t utter a single word of loving them romantically aloud and yet, you still managed to get in between their relationship. This was a sentiment of how selfish of a person you are. 

How could you do this to them?! They were your friends, who saved you from the worst night of your life, and you repay them like this?! Shameful. Disgusting. You don’t think you could ever look at yourself in the mirror again.  

The skirt of your mini dress blurs on your lap and you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing out loud. The tears, however, you couldn’t stop them. Hopefully, they’re all too distracted to see you silently weeping and you can gather yourself before turning tail and running out of there. 

Today is a complete disaster—

“Don’t cry, angel, please!” James jumps up and rushes to your side, kneeling down at your feet as he takes your hands in his and tries to meet your gaze through the puddle of tears in your eyes. His words immediately catch Remus and Sirius’ attention and they both begin to make their way over, evident worry swimming in their eyes but you refuse to acknowledge any of that as your mind drowns in all manner of negative thought.  

You shake your head, hearing the flurry of footfalls around you and wishing them away silently, “I shouldn’t have come here today…” you whisper. 

“What was that?” James patiently asks, voice soft and sweet and kind, it makes you want to fall into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you speak clearer and stand abruptly, “enjoy the lunch,” the haste and sorrow in your shaking voice makes their heart drop and they’re brought back to that fateful night once more. You don’t meet their eyes as you turn and push past them to leave, almost running through the hallway of their studio just to reach the door and make a quick escape. 

“THIS!” Sirius’ roaring voice suddenly cuts through the studio like a knife, making you stop in your tracks and turn around slowly. The door to the lounge room was still open, before it Sirius and Remus stood in an aggressive confrontation, both taking on a defensive stance as they faced each other, all while James remained in the background, clutching at his head as he slumped forward on the sofa, “THIS IS WHAT I MEANT! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME–” 

“I DIDN’T SAY WHAT I SAID WITHOUT REASON SIRIUS! YOU KNOW MY EXACT THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL THIS!” Remus shouts back, the veins in his neck bulging out from his fierce anger, the blood rushing in his cheeks making him look just about ready to violently explode. 

“BUT–”

“—YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR THAT!” Remus continues, not allowing Sirius to speak.   

“WELL YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR MY REASONING EITHER!”

You’re horrified at the scene. Sirius and Remus look ready to tear each other apart as James looks on hopelessly, not knowing what to do or how to diffuse the situation, completely torn between supporting one or the other. Without thinking, you rush back and skid to a stop between the two hot-blooded men. Their fuming rage was like a turbulent inferno whose flames licked viciously at your skin, ready to burn you and spread the hostility. 

“The both of you need to calm down!” you shout, pushing them away from each other and creating a safe distance between. Your tears had already run dry, replaced by the trembling terror shaking your limbs. 

“Don’t worry about us Dove,” Remus manages to voice through gritted teeth, his glowering eyes never leaving Sirius’, “you can leave and we’ll sort this out,”

“Sort this out like usual huh?—”

“—Don’t taunt me, Sirius,”

“That won’t solve anything, you idiot!” Sirius flings his arms up and James just barely manages to pull you away from being accidentally hit. Neither of the two seem to notice and James expresses his apology in lovingly nuzzling your temple, his lips puckering to kiss your skin but refraining and stepping away abruptly. You try not to feel the heartache his actions elicit in you.

“SHUT UP!” you’ve never heard Remus sound so angry and venomous before, it makes your heart stutter in fear and worry. You can’t leave now; this disagreement can’t end well without some form of intervention and James isn’t fairing too well with that – he needs someone there for him too, just to feel, somewhat, grounded through all of this, “She doesn’t have to hear all of this!”

“We wouldn’t have to be saying ‘all of this’ if you had. Just. LISTENED. TO. ME!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?!” Sirius growls lowly, his countenance scrunching up into a foul expression —an antithesis to his elegant features, “I’ll show you!” it was then that Sirius turns to face you and approaches with purpose in his long strides, unstopping like he did earlier when outside the studio. 

“SIRIUS—!”

Sirius backs you up into the wall behind you, “—Everything Could Have Been As Easy As Doing This!” you didn’t know what to prepare yourself for but Sirius firmly gripping your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss was not one of them. In your shock, you let out a surprised but muffled moan, slowly falling into the blissful embrace and reciprocating eagerly. 

Did you faint earlier? Was this all a dream?... 

…Dream or not, you like this very much!  

James and Remus watch at the bold display, disbelief shining clear in their eyes as Sirius has his way with you. But you don’t see them, you don’t see anyone or anything, all you know is that Sirius kisses like an experienced lover from fantasy and he wasn’t shy about loving you up. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you let Sirius guide them over your head to cuff your wrists together with his large hand, his other snaking around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. 

He tastes like spearmint gum and smokey cigarette smoke, his lips tinted in cherry lip balm for sweetness. What an addictive taste. You can’t get enough. 

But air is a necessity and just as you were beginning to run out of breath, Sirius pulls away, panting heavily. He doesn’t wait for a single second to pass before diving his head into your neck, where he peppers feathery but fervid kisses along your sensitive skin and smiles to himself when you slip out a moan. You sound beautiful. He needs to hear more. Sirius doesn’t stop, he sucks and licks and kisses and nuzzles along your neck like the tease he is, drawing out every quivering whimper and pretty moan you were desperately trying to contain. 

You keep your eyes tightly shut, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of Remus or James. Their gaze on you left behind a searing, phantom mark that developed into a displeasing itch. An itch that could only be satisfied if they kissed you too.

…So selfish. God! When will you stop?!

Ashamed of your gradually increasing volume, you seal your mouth shut in a stubborn attempt to suppress your pleasure. How did his lips and tongue feel so good on your skin? His touch made your knees weak and your legs shake, without his support, you don’t think you would stay standing for long. 

Just as you were able to swallow every embarrassing sound that tried to escape, James was beside you, his warm breath on your cheek as he silently urged Sirius to give way, “you need help staying quiet, angel?” he whispers and doesn’t wait for an answer, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s closing them to kiss you sweetly. It started off sweet. Sweet and loving like James before suddenly becoming very dominating and overwhelming. You were being devoured and the thought was undeniably arousing. They were both on you, Sirius kissing away at your neck as James savoured the taste of your lips before bullying his way into your awaiting mouth. He swallowed your moans for you as Sirius defiantly persisted, urging you with seductive lips to make more.  

Overwhelmed but so content. 

You were drowning in bliss and you never wanted to break away from it. 

“DIDN’T I SAY!” Remus shouts, stopping all activity and leaving you strung up high as the boys slowly pull away, not too far but enough for all of you to meet Remus’ unreadable stare. The boys look over their shoulder to observe their commanding lover, their large frames tense before moving their eyes down and slowly smirking, the tension evaporating off their figures as you’re left to rebuild another tower of anxiety from your lower stomach, “Didn’t. I. Say. We. Were. Going. To. Savour. Her?”

What?

Your shocked, wide-eyed stare meets Remus’ cool and, almost, unfeeling gaze. Once again, your knees buckled under you and you were caught by Sirius and James. Held in place by their hot, firm hands and the press of their toned physiques. 

What did he just say?

Unable to keep his stare, your eyes slowly fall down the tall brunette’s figure. Capturing his beautiful, full lips; taking in the delicious column on his neck; observing the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest; drifting down to gulp at his veiny arms and hands before landing on... 

Oh~

A/N : no fluff, but something better right? a little sneak peak on how i write spicy things but it's readable hehe~  

NEXT. | 07 : APOLOGISE AND COMFORT →

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

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[midnight-bay-if]

What would the ROs do if they woke up to find the mc had left the room to sleep like on the couch or something because they didn’t want to wake the ROs up with nightmares?

S: Their eyes flutter open, noticing the hand they rested on your waist now clutches the cold sheets where you once lay. They do not hesitate to search for you but are stricken by what they find. You, curled into a ball on the couch, whimpering in fear from whatever haunts your dreams. It's a familiar picture, and it pains them that you feel obligated to bear it alone when you have been so gracious with their own nightmares.

Without a word, S carefully manoeuvres themselves on the couch so their chest is pressed against your back. They slide one arm under your head while the other cradles your arm, intertwining your fingers in theirs. "Do not isolate yourself needlessly, darling," they whisper, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We are aware of one another's darkness, yet here we remain. Please, do not starve me of my strength."

Rain: Rain is a light sleeper, so the moment the mattress rises from the lack of weight, their eyes flutter open to find you perched on the edge, readying yourself to leave. Before you can move, however, Rain reaches out, laying their hand atop yours, tugging your attention.

"Can't sleep?" They ask with a bleary smile.

"Nightmare," you repeat wearily, "It's okay. Go back to sleep. I'm going to sleep on the couch."

Rain's brow furrows, their lips thinning into a displeased frown. "Please stay. I don't like sleeping alone, you know?" They lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand that they hold. "If you are concerned about your nightmares keeping me awake, you needn't be. When alone, I do not sleep at all. I finally rest when I am beside you. Stay."

Taj: It takes until the morning for Taj to realise you sneaked out of bed in the night. Expecting to gather you in their arms the moment their eyes open, they are disappointed to find your side of the bed long cold. Grousing, they drag themselves out of bed to go hunt for you. They find you already in the kitchen making a pot of coffee, dishevelled hair and dark circles under your eyes.

"Didn't sleep well?" Taj queries, a cold stare you recognise all too well. It's the look of being perceived.

You shrug, trying to play off what you know they have already seen. "Nightmare," you offer, a slither of the truth, "but I didn't want to disturb you, so I tried sleeping on the couch."

Taj snarls, closing the distance and wraps their arms around your waist, resting their chin on your shoulder. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend. I hate it." Their breath hitches. "I didn't even realise you were gone. I hate that, too. Wake me next time."

"You know you hate it when I wake you."

"Not if you're scared. Not if you need me."

N: N stretches their limbs, cursing the crick in their back as equally as the hard lumps in your mattress. They really must convince you to purchase something a little more luxurious. You'll thank them later. Their eyes flutter open, expecting to see you pressed closely to them, your rhythmic breathing lulling them sweetly back to sleep. But you are gone. Instinctively, they want to reach out with their mind to locate you, but they push it back down. Boundaries.

It's still dark, but N has no problem navigating it. The apartment is small, so figuring out where you have gone doesn't take a genius. Moments later, they find you curled into a ball, shivering and whimpering in your sleep. They tut, shaking their heads.

"I really wish you would ask for help, my dear," they whisper to themselves, kneeling until they are level with you. They press a hand to your forehead, allowing some of their warmth to seep into your skin. "Allow me to lay to rest whatever is troubling you inside that noggin' of yours, love, or at least let me stand beside you. Do not hide from me."

Umbra: Usually, Umbra spends their nights curled up at your window or lying beside you, guarding your sleep against those who might impose. It mostly depends on you. They like watching you fall asleep pressed against them because sometimes, on occasion, they allow their own eyes to shut. They do not need to, but being with you inspires hopes of ordinary domesticity; it reminds them to live.

But it never lasts long. The moment you shift in your sleep, and the fidgeting and the whimpering starts, Umbra is awake and alert. They once asked S what they might do to help in such a situation, but there is no magic cure, just reassurance. "I am here," they whisper, unsure if you can hear. "You are safe. You are safe." The words are a safety net they sometimes question whether they know how to wield.

You wake with a start, shoving yourself to the other side of the bed, chest heaving and hands shaking. You stare at Umbra, eyes wide, fear gripping your throat. "I'm sorry. Did I disturb you?"

"No," Umbra replies simply. "You never could."

"Would you prefer me to sleep elsewhere?"

"Why would I prefer that?" They query, cocking their head to one side. "I cannot protect you if you are anywhere else."

(Hopefully this was okay!)

[embbarnes]

Logan being a brat tamer scratches my brain just right.

18+ MDNI | Dom/sub themes. 'P/t' is used for preferred title.

Logan is not exactly known for his patience, or to be pushed around.

He would absolutely put you in your damn place if he needed to. You think you can get away with being bratty? I don't think so.

If you so much as say 'no' or disobey him when he tells you to do something, you are over his knee and his hand is smacking your ass at least ten times. You don't realize how effective this method of punishment is until you realize his adamantium skeleton makes his spanks hurt a lot. You're brought to tears every time, and he rubs over your ass when he's done. "Are finished being a brat, hm?" his hand continued to rub soothingly over your red hot backside, handprints imbedded in your skin by now.

"Uh-huh..." you manage, making him smirk slightly as he pulls you up into him. "Such a naughty thing. Why can't you just behave for once?" he asks with a light scold to his voice, but it's mostly calm by now. "What the hell am I gonna do with you?" he sounds a bit amused now, still holding you after and rubs your exposed thigh.

I think a lot of people assume he wouldn't be into toys because he sort of has that 'I'm all you need' vibe, but come on. He has things for you. He's not insecure about it either. And he certainly doesn't get jealous over silicone.

Sometimes he will make you sit on a dildo while you suck him off, knowing it drives you crazy not to have his cock in you. You want him, not silicone. But he doesn't give in if you've been naughty. "You're a lucky girl/boy, at least I let you have something put in that greedy hole of yours." Logan grunts out, watching you struggle to take his dick down your throat, "You've been so unruly today, now you have to deal with your punishment. My cock won't be going in your sweet honey hole, so sit there like a good girl/boy and take your punishment."

Even if you're a brat from Hell, he will tame you down. A single glance and you stiffen and instantly rethink your attitude. "Talk to me like that again, and I will show everyone here why you always scream my name."

He's a good dom though. He knows how to take care of you. Maybe you act like a brat as a way to cope with something that happened in your life, and you need the stability of a dom like that. Logan's had his fair share of traumatized buddies, he is traumatized himself ffs. He can read you easily and identify exactly what's wrong or where your behavior stems from. He can differentiate when your brattiness is on purpose and playful, or when you're struggling mentally. And he will approach it properly.

Sometimes you don't need to be spanked or forced to cum until you're crying for forgiveness and he wipes those tears away. Sometimes you need a sit down and to just talk. Sometimes a verbal scolding with firm yet gentle authority does the trick, or you need to cry and he sits with you so you're not alone.

Not all of it is about sex.

Logan is good with whatever you may need. He's there for you, which is the most important thing. "Come on pup...what's the matter today? You're being a brat for no reason. Why are you being so bad, hm...tell your p/t." The way he asks in a different tone than normal can make you crumble, and sometimes a good cry or needing some grounding helps a lot.

Maybe your brattiness stems from a lack of care in your life, or an absence of a nurturing figure so when Logan shows himself to be a protector, you lash out with bratty behavior.

He obviously notices this, and he is unmoving. You might get frustrated, used to pushing people away and his stern authority frustrates you to lashing out. Logan is smart; he can handle your little tantrum. "You can fight all you want, little one. You're not gonna move me." He says calmly, hypothetically since he's not actually cornering you in any way. He watches you get mad but eventually his persistence pays off and you realize he's not going to hurt you like others may have done in the past.

Logan is the protective figure you needed. He keeps you in line, but he also tends to your needs. Sexually, emotionally, physically, mentally. He's a good dom, able to handle your behavior with ease and keep hold of you when necessary as he fucks you to climax.

That’s all I got.

[cythiraeth]

beneath soft pillows and wool pt. II ─ i. e. you are struggling to sleep but your genshin lover is there for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x xiao, ganyu, ayato, yelan (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: while you are having troubles with sleeping, your lover tries to find a way to comfort you! let's find out what would they do, if they found you not sleeping late into the night

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, reader overworking themselves

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: as i promised, i present to you second part of this small series! i hope you enjoy it, as always <3 stay tuned for my next works!

+ link to first part ☆ (featuring al-haitham lyney, neuvilette)

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 2.8 k in total

they would find you not sleeping by an accident, and would put you back to sleep themselves — yelan, xiao

yelan

the night was cool and still, the faint hum of liyue harbour in the distance mingled with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. you leaned against the balcony railing of your room, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the city below. sleep had eluded you tonight, your mind restless despite the hour.

the sound of a faint, almost imperceptible footstep behind you broke the silence. you whirled around, your heart leaping to your throat, only to see a familiar figure emerge from the shadows.

"yelan?" you blurted out, your voice a mixture of surprise and confusion. "what are you doing here?" she crossed her arms, one brow arched in a way that was both amused and mildly reproachful. "'no,'" she countered softly, her tone sharp yet playful. "what are you doing here?"

for a moment, you were at a loss for words. "i... couldn't sleep," you finally admitted, gesturing vaguely at the cityscape. "i thought some fresh air might help clear my head." yelan stepped closer, her movements as fluid and deliberate as ever, still dressed in her usual attire - dark and smooth, perfect for blending into the night - but her expression was softer than usual.

"you know," she said, her voice low and tinged with concern, "roaming around at this hour isn't exactly the best way to deal with insomnia, especially on a balcony where you could catch a cold." you rolled your eyes slightly and leaned back against the railing. "i wasn't exactly 'roaming', yelan. and besides, what are the odds of you showing up here of all places? were you spying on me or something?"

she grinned and tilted her head. "i wasn't spying, no. but let's just say i have my ways of knowing when someone i care about is up to something they shouldn't be.” even though her words made you feel a little warmer out in this cold night, you couldn't help but tease her back. "so, what, you decided to come and give me a lecture about bedtime?"

yelan chuckled, the sound deep and melodic. "something like that. though," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly, "i didn't expect to find you brooding out here in the cold. what's on your mind?"

you hesitated, the weight of her attention making you feel both comforted and exposed. "just... couldn't stop thinking about things. nothing specific, really. it's like my brain refuses to turn off."

she nodded thoughtfully, moving closer until she was standing next to you. "i know the feeling," she said softly, her voice losing its teasing edge. "but staying up all night won't help. trust me." you turned to look at her, her face lit by the moonlight, her sharp, confident demeanour seeming softer for the moment, her usual air of mystery replaced by genuine concern.

"i suppose you're right," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

"i usually am," she said, smirking again, though it lacked her usual sharpness, and then, without warning, she reached out and took your hand, her grip firm yet gentle. "come. let's get you back into bed."

you blinked, startled by the sudden contact. "you're going to put me to bed now?"

"someone has to," she quipped, her grin widening. "and you obviously can't be trusted to do it yourself."

despite her playful tone, there was something undeniably tender about the way she led you back to your room, not letting go of your hand until you were sitting on the edge of your bed, her presence somehow both reassuring and commanding.

as you settled under the covers, she pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, her gaze steady and unwavering. "now close your eyes," she said, her voice softer than before.

"you're staying?" you asked, surprised. "just until you fall asleep," she replied, leaning back in the chair with a faint smile. "i have to make sure you don't sneak back out on the balcony."

you couldn't help but smile at her persistence, your heart swelling with affection for the woman who could so easily command a room - or your restless mind - with just a few words. 

"thank you, yelan," you murmured, your eyes growing heavy under her watchful gaze.

"anytime," she replied softly, and for the first time that night, you felt truly at ease.

her presence was so comforting that it wasn't long before your eyes began to close uncontrollably and yelan's silhouette began to blur.

"don't forget to close the door," was the only thing you whispered to your friend, half asleep. the little smirk on her face went unnoticed, unlike the wide-open door that was the first thing you saw in the morning with a runny nose.

hey, after all, they say it's better to sleep in a cold room, right?

xiao

the air was crisp on the terrace of the wangshu inn, the faint hum of nocturnal creatures filling the silence of the night. the inn was quiet, its usual bustle replaced by the stillness that only comes in the early hours. you sat on the edge of the terrace, your legs dangling over the side as you gazed out at the moonlit expanse of the dihua marsh.

the night had always felt peaceful to you, a time to think and breathe without the weight of the day pressing down on you. but tonight, that peace eluded you. your thoughts were restless, keeping you from the sleep you so desperately needed.

a faint gust of wind blew past you, and a familiar presence settled behind you, and you didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"xiao," you said softly, your voice carrying easily in the still night.

"what are you doing here?" his voice came, sharp but tinged with concern. you turned to see him standing a few paces away, his golden eyes fixed on you with that intense gaze he always seemed to carry.

you sighed and turned back to the view of the marsh. "i couldn't sleep, i don't know why exactly," you sighed, "i guess it's just a human thing."

xiao's footsteps were almost silent as he approached, stopping just behind you. he remained quiet for a moment, the silence stretching between you. then his voice came again, softer this time. "the night is not meant for mortals to linger, it is when dangers arise, even here."

you glanced over your shoulder at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "i think I'll be fine with the mighty conqueror of demons around."

he frowned, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at humour. "i’m serious," he said, his tone firm but lacking his usual edge. "your body needs rest. staying awake like this is... unwise."

you sighed again, your shoulders slumping slightly. "i know, but i just can't. it's like the more i try, the harder it gets."

xiao's frown deepened, but instead of reacting, he came closer, lowering himself to sit beside you on the edge of the terrace. his presence was grounding, a quiet strength that seemed to calm your racing thoughts.

"mortals and their endless worries," he murmured, almost to himself. "you carry so much, even when you don't need to."

you looked at him, surprised at the softness in his tone. "it's not like i can help it," you admitted. "it's just... life, i guess."

he was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the marsh below, then he spoke again, his voice low and almost hesitant. "if it helps... you're not alone. even if i'm not around, i'm watching."

the weight of his words settled over you, a warmth blooming in your chest. xiao was not one to offer comfort lightly, and his presence alone spoke volumes.

"thank you, xiao," you said softly, leaning a little closer to him. he turned his head to look at you, his golden eyes catching the moonlight. for a moment he said nothing, but the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

"come," he said finally, standing up and offering you his hand. "you need the rest." you hesitated, glancing at the railing as if debating whether to stay. but the gentle insistence in his eyes left little room for argument. you took his hand, his grip firm and steady as he helped you to your feet.

back in your room, xiao lingered by the window, his back to you as you settled into bed. his presence was a silent reassurance that you weren't alone. "will you stay?" you asked softly, the words slipping out before you could question them.

he turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment you thought he might refuse, but then he gave a small nod. "i'll stay until you sleep."

you smiled and closed your eyes as the sounds of the night filled the room, and as sleep finally claimed you, you felt safe, knowing that he was there, watching over you like the ever-dedicated guardian he was.

they would stay up with you for a little longer — ganyu, ayato

ganyu

the soft glow of a lantern illuminated the desk in your study, casting flickering shadows across the neatly stacked papers and open books. the night was deep, its silence broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind against the windows. you leaned over your work, exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, but unable to outweigh the sheer volume of tasks that still demanded your attention.

just as you reached for your quill again, the faint sound of footsteps caught your attention. turning towards the doorway, you found ganyu standing there, her soft blue hair illuminated by the dim light. she looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"you're still awake?" she asked quietly, stepping into the room.

you smiled, trying to sound more awake than you felt. "i could say the same about you."

she chuckled softly, closing the distance between you. "you know, i tend to overwork myself sometimes, but you... i didn't expect to find you burning the midnight oil."

"i have a lot to finish," you admitted, gesturing to the scattered papers on the desk. "i thought i could get it all done before tomorrow, but... well, here i am."

ganyu's eyes swept over the desk, taking in the clutter with a practiced eye. her expression softened, and she reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. "you've been working too hard, you should rest.”

"i know," you said with a sigh. "but if i don't finish this tonight, i'll be even further behind tomorrow. i'll sleep when i'm done, i promise."

her lips pressed into a thin line, her concern evident, and then, after a moment, she nodded, though her hand remained on your shoulder. "if you're determined to finish this tonight," she said gently, "then let me help you."

you blinked, startled. "no, you don't have to..."

"but i want to," she interrupted, her voice firm yet kind. "i know what it's like to feel overwhelmed by work. sometimes it's easier if someone is there to share the burden."

her words fell like a warm blanket over you, and for a moment all you could do was stare at her. ganyu's dedication had always been one of the things you admired most about her, but her willingness to extend that dedication to you - to stay up late and help you simply because she cared - made your chest tighten with affection.

"then thank you, ganyu," you said quietly.

she offered you a small smile, one that carried more warmth than the entire room. "where should i start?"

you quickly organized the papers, explaining what needed to be done. ganyu took a seat beside you, her delicate fingers moving deftly as she worked through the tasks. her presence was calming, her quiet focus making it easier for you to concentrate.

for a while, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional shuffling of documents. you glanced at her every now and then, marveling at how serene she looked even in the midst of tedious work.

finally, you leaned back in your chair and stretched your arms over your head. "i think that's the last of it," you said with a tired but satisfied sigh.

ganyu looked up from her own pile of papers, a hint of relief in her expression.   "i’m glad we could finish it together," she said quietly, putting down her pen.

you smiled at her, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "i don't know what i’d do without you."

a faint blush rose to her cheeks and she looked away shyly. "i haven't done much," she murmured.

"you've done more than enough," you insisted, reaching out to take her hand. "you stayed with me when you didn't have to. that means everything to me.”

she hesitated for a moment, then squeezed your hand gently, her eyes meeting yours. "you mean a lot to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "i just want to make sure you take care of yourself."

your heart swelled at her words, and you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "i'll try. as long as you promise to do the same."

she smiled, the kind of smile that lit up her whole face, and nodded. "i promise."

as the first rays of dawn began to creep through the window, you and ganyu made your way to the bed, exhaustion finally catching up to both of you. she stayed close, her warmth a comforting presence as you drifted off to sleep. and in that quiet moment, with her by your side, you knew you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

ayato

the inkwell was nearly empty, and the paper under your hand was beginning to blur from the strain in your tired eyes. the silence of the night wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, broken only by the occasional rustling of papers or the faint scratching of your pen. you knew you should be in bed, but there was so much to do, and the hours slipped away before you realized how late it was.

you didn't hear ayato's footsteps at first. his movements were as graceful and quiet as ever, the only warning of his presence being the soft rustle of his robes as he approached. you looked up, startled, to see his gentle smile framed by the warm light of the lantern he carried.

"you are still awake," he said softly, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern. "what could require so much of your attention at this hour?"

you sighed, putting down the quill and rubbing at your temples. "there's just too much to do, ayato. i couldn't sleep knowing this was unfinished."

his eyes flickered to the papers spread across the desk, then back to you. his smile didn't falter, but there was a knowing look in his eyes that made you feel both cared for and slightly scolded. "and i thought i was the workaholic in this relationship," he teased lightly.

you gave him a tired laugh, and his expression softened further. without another word, he put down the lantern and pulled up a chair beside you. "then i’ll help you," he said simply, taking one of the documents from the pile.

"ayato, you don't have to..."

"i insist," he interrupted smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "if you're determined to stay awake, i'll make sure you don't have to shoulder this alone. besides," he added with a playful touch, "i’m quite efficient, you know."

and he was! as you worked, ayato's sharp mind and quick hands proved invaluable, easing your burden more than you thought possible. but more than his help, it was his presence that soothed you - the soft hum of his voice as he made the occasional comment, the comforting weight of his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned over to hand you something.

time seemed to pass differently with him there, and before you knew it, the last of the work was done. you leaned back in your chair, exhaustion settling in, but the relief was palpable.

ayato looked at you, his smile tinged with satisfaction. "there, you see? together we can do anything.”

you laughed softly and shook your head. "thank you, ayato. really."

he stood and offered you his hand with a flourish. "my pleasure. but now, my dear, there is one more task we must complete tonight."

you raised an eyebrow and took his hand. "and what's that?"

"to make sure you get the rest you deserve," he said, his voice warm as he led you to the bed.

he pulled back the covers for you, waiting until you were comfortably tucked in before sliding in next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. "next time, let me know if you're overwhelmed," he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead. "i’d rather spend the night by your side than let you face it alone."

you nodded sleepily, the weight of his words and the warmth of his embrace lulling you into a peaceful haze. with ayato holding you close, sleep came easily, and you drifted off with the soft hum of his voice still echoing in your mind.

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 14.01.2025 please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

[twistedlovelines]

(Waddles in here at 4am like the insomniac I am)

Forgot to mention last ask— I got fired since you were last 'really active', lol.

As a vers switch, I tend bounce between sub & dom thoughts (and lean towards Yuu's circumstances). However, consider the following: being a sugar baby for some of the boys (given that Yuu is broke & most would have more money than them)... only for them to realize that sometimes, the companionship you provide can come in different forms. When y'all started talking about it, you agreed that he would take the lead more. However, after a particularly stressful period of time, you offer em comfort in the form of taking control & getting em fucked out of their minds.

Need to see their eyes rolling back, cheeks damp with tears, drooling as they're unintelligibly mumbling about how "they can't take anymore" even tho he's cum so much already— oh, you're shooting blanks at this point? I guess we can take a break. You did so good, sweetheart.

—🐈‍⬛

!! i hope you're doing ok babe :(( hopefully u can rest in the meantime, but ik the job markets Rough rn

wc: 850-ish

tags: (gn! reader, nsfw, mdni, overstimulation, sub! Azul, “baby” used for Azul)

yessss i can see this happening with azul in particular!!! after all, he has his needs but. not really the desire nor time to start up a proper relationship. besides, how could he resist such a tempting opportunity sitting in front of him? the ramshackle prefect, with little to nothing to their name but that broken down dorm, their cat, and the clothes on their back...of course he wants to help you! he's a businessman through and through, and letting such a precious opportunity go would be a waste.

he's seen the way you look at him, the flicker of desire in your gaze as your eyes skirt over his figure. assessing him.

he asks you to give him hand jobs first. nothing fancy- just a way for him to get work done faster when he's holed up in his office late at night. its nice, he thinks, when you neatly clean yourself up before leaving without him even needing to say a word.

its different, tonight.

He's been in his office more than his bedroom as of late, despite his dedication to sleeping properly (business cannot prosper on a weary mind, after all). Yet a recent lack of revenue (due to the nature of the first years being less competent than last years') has forced him to manage the fallout himself.

It's unbecoming of him. His blazer has been haphazardly thrown over a guest chair, and his hair's gone askew, his hands having run through them in an attempt to self-soothe.

Still, Azul's never been great at soothing himself.

It's Jade who calls you. Politely asks you to attend to Azul since he seems to be too busy to call you himself. Says a break might do him some good- something to get things off his mind.

You agree easily once he mentions giving you a bonus on top of what Azul usually pays you: a favor.

It's suspicious, but you take it anyways. Favors from Jade of all people are rare, and what he's asking for isn't exactly demanding. Azul's not exactly difficult to please.

Not when it comes to your touch.

You slip in easily enough, the spare key Azul had given you coming in handy. He doesn't seem to notice your presence at first, mumbling something along the lines of putting any papers in the guest chair. With a fond sigh, you make your way to drape yourself over the back of his chair. 

"Aw, have you been working too much? Poor thing," you coo. 

He jolts up in surprise, face snapping to yours as his eyes widen. His hair, having fallen from his signature appearance, moves easily as you brush it aside to place a kiss on his forehead. Azul melts under the soft touch, but freezes a second later.

“Did Jade call you?”

“Maybe.” 

Without skipping a beat, you move to settle in his lap, running your hands down his arms to settle them around your waist. 

“Still, it’s been a while since you’ve called me. I’ve missed you, you know,” you purr, loosening his tie. 

“I’ve been- ah- busy,” he retorts breathily. The pressure of your lower half gently grinding against his own is delicious, but with how busy he’s been, he’s far more sensitive than usual.

“Since when are you not?” 

He feels your mouth smile against his throat as you pepper love bites along the pale skin. The heat of your skin is delightful under his fingers, and he moves them under your shirt to skim along the curve of your spine.

A soft moan escapes him as you roll your hips against his with a particular force, blunt nails digging into the fat of your hips instinctively. 

“Already close, Azul?” You tease, nipping the lobe of his ear.

This is your favorite part of having sex with Azul, you think.

He huffs, turning his head to the side. A pretty blush has bloomed across his cheeks, the color complimenting his silvery lashes. His bottom lip is swollen from his efforts to stifle his moans- despite his office being thoroughly soundproof. You cup his cheek with affection and sigh as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking comfort on the edge of his release. 

“That’s alright baby, you can cum.”

A peek of tongue flashes out of his mouth at your words, and desire curls hot in your gut as you watch him lick at your palm in an attempt at self-soothing, hips rutting unsteadily against yours. 

You let him continue like that for a moment before withdrawing your hand and kissing him properly, shushing his whines. 

"Oh? Still have some tension in you, Azul? Maybe cumming a few more times will help with that.” He shivers at your words, baring his neck to you as you lave your tongue over a hickey you had left on his neck. Only an incoherent mumble makes it through his lips, but its damning all the same.

“Good.”

~

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

this may be hard to answer because we don’t actually know the characters too well yet, but what do you think vox and val actually *love* about eachother? it seems like it’s more than just sex between them, and i’m curious to know what you think their relationship is like outside the toxic or sexual parts

Anon, to me it is not hard to answer at all, I think about it constantly 🩵❤️ of course all I write is based mostly on my headcanons and interpretations.

So... What Vox loves about Valentino? First and foremost, he makes him feel free. Vox is very self-conscious; he has a lot of internalized shame that he tries to cover with his grandiosity and fake smile. Valentino is unapologetically himself, and no matter how annoying it can be, Vox admires it. He's like the least judgmental person, and except for his temper tantrums, he's quite chill. Vox can't handle something? Val doesn't care; he still thinks his boyfriend is smart and will figure shit out eventually. Vox discovers he's into some weird, socially unacceptable kink? Great, they can try it. Vox rambles for hours about sharks? Good, he has a passion; Valentino likes people with passion, he will listen, he likes his voice anyway. Vox, who has spent his whole life crafting this perfect narrative about himself, cherishes the opportunity to feel comfortable enough with other people (a lot of these things apply also to his friendship with Velvette) to act like an absolute idiot around them.

Also, I think Valentino can be a really amazing boyfriend - he can be funny, charming, and mindful of the other person. That's his whole thing; he deals with desires, and that's why people get addicted to him so quickly. In most cases, it inevitably ends with him taking absolute control over the other person and becoming abusive. But Vox is his partner, so he gets just those nice bits because Valentino knows he wouldn't be able to put him down like he did with Angel. Not that he'd want to; he likes having a partner who's equal to him, whom he can break only if he allows him to do so (yes, my reading of them is very BDSM-ish, don't @ me). Valentino wants to be loved, he loves the idea of love, surrounds himself with hearts but at the same refuses to adjust to societal norms in the way that makes him unlovable; every person he ever loved (in his mind, his obsessive desire equals love) rejected him eventually after he revealed his true nature to them. But not Vox. Vox accepts him as broken as he is, and despite all his toxicity, Vox is reliable, he's the most stable part of Valentino's life. He has the patience to deal with his mood swings, he can always find the solution when Val messes something up, he's willing to accept all the attention Valentino wants to give him, and he supports his passions (ruining lives, making weird porn and abusing people).

Essentially, their love is largely about finally finding the other person who is as bad as you are, who accepts you no matter what and helps you grow (become an even worse person).

And some additional things:

Valentino really likes how smart Vox is. He himself is impulsive and acts instantly on his urges because violence is always an answer so he's kinda impressed when Vox presents him with some elaborate plots.

Vox loves Valentino's creativity, aesthetic, and attention to detail. He really likes nice things, but he lacks the ability to understand the nuance that is necessary for creating art.

They both enjoy each other's sense of humor.

Vox really likes that Valentino is kinda dumb? He can take care of him, and he likes taking care of people because it allows him to prove himself as The Best Boyfriend. He doesn't necessarily gets the idea of unconditional love, so the fact that he has an opportunity to earn it makes him feel more secure in their relationship. That's also why he loves spoling Valentino with gifts which is perfect because Valentino loves being spoiled.

Valentino likes being a little silly when he's with Vox. At work he can't manage people with his competence, so he does it with fear. But yelling and throwing people around is exhausting; he sometimes wants to bedazzle his gun while watching some trashy reality TV and bitching about his hard day at work. It's okay because Vox is also a little silly.

Valentino generally helps Vox live life more. He helped him come out of the closet (in my headcanon Vox for his whole life struggled with internalized biphobia); shows him that emotions other than anger are acceptable and don't mean weakness; even small things like always insisting on getting nice meals (while Vox could live his whole life on black coffee and rice) or decorating their apartment with fancy yet useless stuff.

They're both power-crazy maniacs, so the idea of being with someone who is widely desired by others and could destroy them if they wished is just so incredibly hot.

Vox | Valentino | What they hate about each other

If you liked these you should definitely check out my fic

[yesimwriting]

hii 💗

so im currently obsessed with best friend!felix and wanted to request that perhaps their relationship evolves to a point where they’re practically dating but they’re both unaware of it

thank youu

a/n omg you understand them so well

----

There are certain expectations attached to Felix's name, weaved into each syllable like delicate stitches in a tapestry that depicts a family crest. You're not unaware of what the world associates with him, not oblivious enough to lack a general idea of what most assume when they think of being close to someone like him.

People would never guess that the best part of being best friends with Felix are the little things, the small gestures that show how careful he can be when he cares.

The girls you usually sit with in your last class changed so drastically when they saw him on the bench outside of your lecture hall. They whispered and giggled and twirled silky hair around their fingers. It made something in your stomach turn to stone... and you still can't figure out why. You'd be hypocritical to fault them for gossip.

They eventually started chatting about the type of girls someone like him must like. That only made things more awkward when Felix finally spotted you and waved you over. They gaped at you, and with Felix waiting, you weren't given the space needed to stumble through an explanation. The only thing you could manage was a shy 'it's not like that' and a sentence you barely remember that used the word 'friend' way too many times to be structurally sound. It didn't stop them from begging you for details next class before you finally walked away.

Now, in Felix's room, his hand on your shoulder, firm enough to be anchoring, you can't help but compare reality with what they must be imagining. The only details you can offer them are mundane. A fact that only makes you more protective of these moments. They wouldn't get it.

You're convinced no one can, so why take their comments to heart? Even Farleigh, who actually does know Felix tries to twist your friendship into something salacious, something worth gossiping about.

"You're tense." His voice comes out so low you're not sure if you're meant to respond. Felix's thumb traces circles against the top of your shoulder. "You said you had a good day today."

Felix reads your mood with a talent that'd make you uneasy if he was anyone else. "I did." The words feel flat, tired, even though your day was objectively good. You had time to stop for a coffee before class, a TA handed back graded exams and you did better than expected, and you finally finished your essay. "Just Tuesday and Thursday classes."

He nods once empathetically, thumb pressing into your skin. "Tired?"

"Yeah."

The two of you are quiet for a moment. Lulls in conversation have a tendency to make you feel the need to compensate. With Felix, the silence never asks to be rushed through. "Want to rest your eyes for a little?"

This wouldn't be the first time you took a nap in Felix's room. It's not exactly a habit--yet--but it's circling that territory. Sometimes he'll go to sleep with you, other times he'll stay up reading to you.

The offer is irritatingly perfect. You want to say yes, but you--ugh. This is what you get for talking to Farleigh. This is ridiculous. There isn't anything unusual or potentially romantic about your friendship with Felix. You're close, and when it comes to Felix, close is all consuming.

You briefly let your eyes shut. "Sounds nice, but I--I have a lot of homework."

In one movement, he lets his hand slip down your arm and his head fall against your shoulder. "C'mon," his breath is warm against your neck, "I'm tired, too."

The weakness in your resolve makes you like yourself a little less. You swallow, mentally preparing yourself to fight against your fondness. "Out late partying?"

He sighs against you, the sound more amused than it wants to be. "Oh, yeah, Oliver and I were out until the ungodly hour of 11:30." You move your arm, nails brushing a few strands of his hair back into place. "I sleep better when you're here."

Felix is always so warm, it's nearly impossible to not get caught up in it. You almost told him that he could have come over. That the movie you went to see with your roommate had ended around 10:30 and that the only reason you were dismissive when he called is because of what Farleigh had said in the library.

Instead, you settle for running your fingers through his hair. "I told you, Nadia and I went to the movies."

He sighs again, the sound a little sharper this time, almost a huff. A smile tugs at your lips. Felix looks up, half-glaring-half-pouting. "You think it's funny?"

"No," you try, extending the syllable in an attempt to prove your innocence.

Something shifts, you feel it before Felix moves. He straightens, taking his weight off you, likely in an attempt to lull you into a false sense of insecurity. You lean back, resting your weight on one hand. The bit of space you're quick enough to create isn't enough to save you.

Felix leans forward, hand finding the shoulder farthest from him. It's instinct to lean back further in an attempt to duck out from beneath his arm. The move paired with a laugh that makes you lose balance proves to be a mistake. Felix is too tall, too inescapable. His other hand finds your side and you have no choice but to let your back hit the mattress.

He's not pinning you down, but he is hovering in a way that makes you think twice about moving. "Felix." It's meant to come off as threatening, but you're still giggling and it only makes him grin.

"What?" You bravely lift an arm, placing your palm flat on his chest. You will yourself to push him away. He pulls a hand back, giving up trapping you in favor of covering the back of your palm with the front of his. "You started it."

"Doesn't sound like me."

His smile widens. "No?"

He pulls your hand away from him, and for a second, you think he might be ready to release you, but then he presses a kiss to the side of your hand. The warmth of the gesture would normally make you dizzy, but with Farleigh's words ringing in your ears...it's impossible to fully relax.

His eyebrows pinch together, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you hum, "Just tired. Like you said."

He gently sets your hand down. "Y'sure you don't want a nap?"

"No." You're only human. "A nap sounds nice. Just need to use the bathroom first."

Felix squeezes your hand once before shifting onto his back. His absence leaches all the heat from your body. Suddenly, it does feel like a damp autumn day.

You sit up, sock clad feet instinctually slipping into Felix's discarded slippers. They're too large, and you always have to remember to watch your step when you steal them, but they're so plush it's worth the caution.

There's a familiar bundle of fabric thrown over the back of the desk chair. You unzip your jacket. The cold air bites at you as you slip off the thin fabric. You grab Felix's jumper, instinctually pulling it over your head. The material engulfs you in his essence.

You shut the door behind you as you step into his bathroom. Why is something so small getting to you so much? And something that Farleigh, of all people, planted in your head. He likes to twist things until they resemble something entertaining or beneficial. We're just friends. Are you sure?

What kind of a question even is that? Obviously, you'd know if you were dating someone. Obviously, you'd know if you were dating Felix. So of course your answer was a little forced and awkward. Farleigh should have teased you about it. Instead, he looked at you oddly, eyebrows pulled together almost sympathetically, and told you he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone be that close with their friends. Not even Felix.

Okay--don't think about it. What does Farleigh know about genuine, platonic friendships?

You turn on the sink. Splashing some water on your face will he--a bottle of moisturizer and face wash. Spares that you had picked up for Felix to try, go to's for you during impromptu sleepovers.

You force yourself to look up. Your reflection stares back at you, Felix's jumper sliding off your shoulder, exposing the sleeve of your shirt.

You dab water against your face before shutting off the sink. Maybe some sleep will help. You'll take your nap, and then you and Felix will wake up, and you'll see that everything's the same.

Felix is already beneath the sheets when you step out of the bathroom. You walk to the edge of the bed, sliding off his slippers before climbing into bed.

"Darling?" You hum in response before craning your neck to look at him. Felix's gaze is fixed on the ceiling. "Are y--Did something happen?" You freeze. Has Farleigh been telling other people what he told you? Did all of it circle back to Felix in some embarrassing way? "With us, I mean?"

The clarification is too small, too uncertain to fit him. You lift your head. "What?" His attention is still on what's above. "No." With a sigh, you lean forward until your chin's resting on his stomach. "Of course we're fine." He tilts his head slightly, eyes finally landing on yours. Felix is quiet for a moment, taking in your expression. Treating him differently isn't fair. "Do you think we're too close?"

His expression falters, the slight concern behind his eyes morphing into something more closed off. "You--you think we're too close?"

"No." You don't even have to think about it. Maybe that's what bothered you about what Farleigh said. You don't want to think about what should be different because you know you don't want to feel less close to him.

He doesn't ease, and you can't blame him. You place a hand on his side, smoothing your thumb up and down the fabric of his shirt. "I--just--the other day, Farleigh ran into me in the library, and we started talking and he made some comments...." Felix groans. "About how close we were, and at first, it just felt like Farleigh, and then he said a lot of people assume things and--I--"

"Who cares what other people think?" Felix shifts, his fingers tracing patterns against your back. "We're happy with how we are."

You smile, "Yeah." It's probably easy to dismiss opinions and rumors when you're someone like Felix. You decide that it's okay to borrow his worldview. "I am happy."

Felix grins, available hand moving to grab yours. He kisses your palm before placing your hand back on his side. He squeezes your hand against the space between his ribs and hip. "I'm happy, too."

You grin, angling your head downwards to press a kiss against his chest before laying down fully. Felix's knuckles run up and down your back. It's soothing, making everything else disappear long enough to let you fall asleep.

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taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae

i love how much you guys seem to like bestfriend!felix 😭 i have some more requests/fics for him coming,, someone in one of my asks said they weren't sure if i was still taking requests for him and i definitely am,, he's so fun to write for