#i remember watching it for the first time and my heart just plummeting…

[suguwu]

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet. 

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say. 

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.” 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering. 

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod. 

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!” 

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.” 

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.” 

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.” 

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” 

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 

Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

[hxney-lemcn]

Old Gods — deity! Vil Schoenheit x gn! reader

summery: a mortal has stumbled upon an abandoned shrine, only to find that the God of beauty and love still resides.

tw: power dynamic? I mean he's literally a God so no matter what I think there's gonna be an unbalanced power dynamic. Otherwise this is just fluff lol. religious themes as well but that was a given.

a/n: inspired from @ceruleancattail and their deity au! I had to do one on Vil because I love him sm <3

wc: 1.1k

Master List

Vil could do nothing but watch as less and less people trickled into his shrine. When the last few had switched to the newer deity he could feel his anger simmer, growing hotter and hotter with each praise of the beloved Neige. That anger festered over the years as the new deity soaked up the attention. Vil’s shrine had started to crumble, vines taking over the now ancient temple. He had no idea what people saw in Neige. The good for nothing tried too hard, unable to please all his followers yet still they flock to him. Vil had half the mind to get rid of the mockery, but before he could put his plan into play a strange mortal had lost their way.

At least, Vil thought you may have been lost. The path to his shrine had become overrun by vegetation, and besides, who would even remember his shrine’s existence? Everyone was too busy trying to please Neige to pay the older God a second thought. Yet you had looked upon his broken down temple in awe, hands gliding over the ivory pillars that held chips, fingers gently holding a few ivy leaves to inspect. At first, Vil tried not to think too deeply about how he felt his shoulders relax in your presence, or how he watched you with just as much curiosity as you held for his sacred land. He tried not to question why his heart leapt when your eyes landed on his now decrepit statue, how your eyes wandered over the marble that had hoya carnosa’s trailing up his visage. At the very least they were in bloom, the pale pink flowers accentuating his beauty. 

“Beautiful,” You whispered out as you kneeled before his shrine. Shrugging off your bag, Vil watched as you dug through it, eyebrows scrunched as you searched for what you wanted. It was that moment that Vil realized how much he missed this. How much he took for granted his previous followers, growing more snarky and ignoring their wishes. Perhaps his downfall was his own doing…but he could never forgive that cheesy buffoon for taking advantage of his mistakes. Yet you, a mere mortal, nearly had a God on his knees, something he would never admit out loud. 

A bright smile overtook your face as you fished out some flowers along with some incense. After you lit the incense, you clasped your hands and bowed your head. Your wishes had rung through his head, and when you finished, you surprisingly didn’t leave right away. No, instead you spoke.

“I’m not sure if you’re real,” You stated, the sun painting your face perfectly. “But I had read a lot about you and wanted to see your shrine for myself. It's a shame this temple is left alone, it's absolutely breathtaking. If you are real, thank you for listening to my troubles, I’m sorry to bother you. I don’t have anywhere else, and Lord Neige has no time for a commoner like me.”

As you stood up, Vil felt his heart plummet. He didn’t want you to leave just yet, please stay. Yet he kept himself hidden, not wanting to scare you off. As you left, you felt just a bit better, at least you got your problems off your chest, and you had found your own sanctuary to hide out in. 

Vil thought that would be the last he saw off you, but he appreciated the incense and flowers nonetheless. Yet the incense burnt out after a few hours, and the flowers started to wilt after a few days. Still, you had managed to surprise the deity as you came back, a new batch of flowers in your hands. So in turn, he had decided to bless you, his silly little mortal. As you rested the flowers before his statue and kneeled, he decided to reveal himself. When you opened your eyes, you were startled when you saw the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He seemed familiar at first, and when your gaze rose to the statue that's when it clicked. It was none other than Vil, God of beauty, love. 

He couldn’t help but smirk at your awe, relishing in your newfound devotion. “Hello dear,” Vil greeted, lilac eyes watching your every expression with pride. “What do you wish to share with me today?”

Opening and closing your mouth, you had no idea what to say. A God stood before you, what was the proper protocol? You shouldn’t be staring at him should you? What if you said something that would cause him to smite you and your entire lineage? Your cheeks felt warm when he smiled down at you, and you held your breath as he drew closer, sitting on the altar that you currently kneeled before.

“No need to be scared,” He hummed, his voice soothing you in ways you didn’t know could be soothed. “You are the first mortal to step foot in my temple, let alone leave offerings at my altar in a century. The least I could do is lend an ear, no?”

“You’re so pretty,” You mumbled without realizing it. You seemed to snap out of it when Vil let out a small chuckle, greatly amused at your praise. Yet it also affected him more than he’d like to think about.

“Of course,” Vil smiled, something he hasn’t done in so long that it felt strange. “I wouldn’t be the God of beauty if I didn’t look the part.”

“R-right,” You stumbled, looking anywhere but him. Oh what a sight for sore eyes. “I-I can’t believe you’re real…” Vil only watched on as your brain struggled to believe the current scenario, and he took the time to admire you. In your prayers, wishes of looking beautiful and wishes to be loved had rung clear, yet Vil failed to understand why. You were nowhere near as beautiful as him, and you could use some touch ups, but for a mortal you were quite stunning.

After that day you had started to visit regularly. Now that you knew a lonely God was awaiting you, how could you keep him waiting? Every time he’d give you a lotion, serum, accessories, clothing…it seemed the more you visited the more extravagant the gifts became. When you wore something he gifted you he’d shower you with praise, if you kept up with your skin care routine he’d gently run his fingers over your skin, sharp eyes shining with affection. You turned from becoming his pet project to becoming something more, and you had never felt more loved than when your God treated you as something more than just a mere mortal, but someone who was not only worthy of his attention, but longed for yours.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hello sweetheart heart, hope you are having a nice day. We love ghost, sow now i love you.

You, me and Jesus Christ know that when Ghost loves hard, he loves STRONGLY. This man gives you every bit of his soul little by little, in his own way, in his own time, but he does it with every fiber of his being. Now, Ghost gave his soul to his women. He opened himself in every possible way with her, he loves her too much. Until he loses her one day, on a mission, the last thing he saw was her being wounded. They are separated and she doesn't answer his calls, he thinks she is wounded to the brink of death. how would ghost react? does he's go "devil mode"? etc.

I NEED ANGST, I NEED TO CRY. I want this man to break my heart.

ily2 ghost solidarity (Damn dude you got me turning on my angst song, this hit me hard lmaooo)

TW: graphic descriptions of violence, angst

God, he’s a fucking mess. Ghost who is normally so calm and level headed. He is normally the picture of grace under pressure. But when everything started going sideways, you did what you do best and you protected him. Your 6’4” hulking behemoth of a man. The floor crumbed and broke under your feet, forcing you both to plummet down to the ground floor. The only part of the building that so far survived the blast. Ghost saw your attackers aim their guns into the hole you were both in. You acted quick and shot them, but not before they shot at you first. You pushed him away from you as hard as you could and the last thing he saw before you were separated was a spray of blood. And then more debris came crumbling down. And then silence. His blood went ice cold. There’s no fucking way. There’s absolutely no fucking way this is happening. He screamed. He screamed your call sign until his throat was raw. He’s not a religious man at all but sweet god above, this can’t be real. This is just a bad dream. Please god, this is just a bad dream.

You weren’t responding and it sounded like more of the enemy force were coming in. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t remember what happened. He wouldn’t remember mowing them down, one by one. He wouldn’t remember jamming his thumbs into their eyes, or plunging his knife in their throats over and over and over again, or even the tears. The hot tears that glued his mask to his face like a second layer of skin. He wouldn’t remember any of it.

Just the kisses he never gave you. The mornings he could’ve spent in your arms. The nights he could’ve spent curled up on the sofa, letting the TV run with whatever you wanted. The pointless arguments you would’ve gotten into about the pros and cons of having a dog. The time he could’ve spent unpacking your belongings in his house and watching you turn it into a home. The stupid texts you would’ve sent him about the most ridiculous things, groceries, jokes, those stupid quizzes you loved so much.

And as he held you in his arms, his hands shaking and applying as much pressure to your side as he could, his love is pouring from his lips and his eyes. He won’t let go. He absolutely will not fucking let you go. Even as evac came and put you on a stretcher, loading you into the chopper, he is holding onto you for dear life.

He’ll never let you go.

I might decide to do a full one shot from this 👀

[tarkalean-trekkie]

Hold on (Rewrite)

Spock x Reader

Word count ~1,700

Author note: this is a complete rewrite of a story that I started before the tornado 2 years ago. I finally took time to rewrite it! I decided to go ahead and make this one big part instead of multiple small parts, considering each little part was less than a thousand words. I hope you enjoy this, it’s dear to my heart since it’s one of my first post tornado rewrites.

Spock and reader are on an away mission, when the battery drains in their devices. After surviving a brutally cold night, Spock has a confession to make to y/n. Mild danger, with some fluff at the end.

—————————————————————————

My hands crack from gathering berries and firewood all day. Fearing that the Enterprise would not find me before nightfall, I begin making preparations for how I will survive the night in this frigid weather. After sitting down at the campfire near the cave entrance, I hear footsteps approach. Just as I am about to grab my phaser, a familiar voice calls out.

“It would be illogical to cause harm to someone who is offering to help,” the voice says.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Mr. Spock, I’ve never been so glad to see you.”

Spock nods, “it is fortunate that you are unharmed. Unfortunately, we will be stuck here for the night; the power from my tricorder has been drained.”

I check my phaser. “The power from my phaser has been drained as well.”

Spock glances at my hands in surprise. “You are injured, let me inspect your hands.”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I fib, sitting on a rock beside him.

“I fear that you are in the beginning stages of frostbite. May I bandage your hands for you? It will not be much help to the current damage, but it could help to prevent further damage.” he replies, with an expression that would be blank to most, but I could see the slightest bit of concern.

“Oh, um, sure…” I stutter, trying to hide a blush, I had a small idea of what hand touching met to Vulcans. I gain composure and remind myself that this is strictly for medical reasoning, plus it would be illogical for my fellow, stone faced officer to make a move on me.

Spock grabs a salve and some wrap from his bag, and hands the salve for me. “You rub the salve over the frostbite, and I shall wrap them for you.”

I had to hold back a chuckle, thinking of how sensual it would be if he had to rub to salve on my hands himself. But also, would it be sensual if he saw me rubbing the salve on my hands.

“I don’t believe frostbite is very amusing Lieutenant Y/L/N,” Spock states. Perhaps my grin was a little too noticeable.

“Oh, sorry,” I state grabbing the salve, and starting to rub it on my hands (non sensually). “I was just remembering a previous conversation to distract me from the pain.”

Moments later, after I have made sure to medicate every inch of the frostbite, I hand the salve back to Spock.

“May I wrap your hands now?” he asks. I nod in response. He unravels the wrap, and lightly, grasps my wrist. “Please hold this end for me.”

I grab the end of the wrap with my thumb, and watch as he secures it, while being careful to not directly touch my hand. He then moves to the other hand, again being careful to not make any necessary hand contact.

“It is primitive, but it should suffice for now,” he states.

“Thanks,” I reply, gazing at my hands. “It’s going to be nightfall soon, do you think we should gather more firewood?”

“That will not be necessary. You do not need to further injury, and we must conserve our energy if we have any chance of survival.” Spock replies, sternly.

“What are the odds that the Enterprise finds us before we freeze to death?” I ask, realizing how dire our situation has become.

“I believe the odds are astronomical. Given how the temperature plummets after sunset, we will be lucky to survive the night,” he replies grimly.

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought that Vulcans didn’t believe in luck.”

“I don’t, however, you do. I suppose you are, as you humans say, ‘rubbing off on me,” he states.

“Seems logical to me,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

Spock looks around the cave for a moment. “You wouldn’t by chance have a thermal blanket in your bag? The blanket plus the amount of wood we have for the fire, could potentially be enough for our survival.”

I rummage through my bag for a moment. “I’ve got it,” I finally say, pulling the thermal blanket out. “Do you really think it will be enough?”

“Affirmative, however, for the best efficiency, we will have to sleep close to each other and share body heat,” he replies.

I turn my head to hide a blush. “If that is our best chance of survival, then I don’t have a complaint.”

We add wood to the fire, graze sparingly on the berries, and attempt to settle into sleep.

————————————-

When I awaken, I am hit with a burst of cold air, causing me to shiver violently. Something tightens its grip on me, and I soon notice that it is Spock holding onto me. I also notice that our fire has nearly been extinguished.

“Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, gazing down at me.

I shake my head. “I-I don’t know, everything f-feels cold.” My body trembles more.

He tightens his grip on me. “I am afraid that both of our body temperatures are dropping rapidly. If we do not restart the fire soon, we may surely die.” He moves to restart the fire.

“S-Spock, you’re Vulcan, you’ll freeze to death!” I cry out.

“And if I do nothing, we shall both perish, and that is not a risk that I am willing to take.” Spock removes himself from the thermal blanket, ensuring that I am still covered.

“Spock, p-please,” I barely speak.

“Y/N, please spare your strength, and don’t argue, logic dictates that I at least attempt to save us, or at least you.” An ember grows as he adds firewood, and as the light grows, I notice him begin to shake. Despite being stronger, I know Vulcans have lower cold tolerance.

My own shivers silence me, and I silently pray that he can build the fire back before freezing to death.

Warmth and fire light grow ever so slightly, and Spock manages to get the fire going, and make it back to the blanket. I wrap the blanket around us both, and he once again, wraps his arms around me.

“It may take some time for our body temperatures to regulate, but I believe the fire will last the rest of the night. Please hold on to me to stay warm,” he states.

“A-are we going to d-die?” I ask in fear.

Spock looks into my eyes. “Ashayem, I need you to listen to me. I need you to hold on to me. We will keep each other warm.”

I tremble. “It’s so cold. I don’t want to die.”

“Y/n, I promise you that everything will be alright. Do not let go, there are only a couple hours of night left. I assure you that we will survive the night, please hold on,” concern growing in his voice.

I nuzzle closer to him, hearing his heart beat rapidly in his side. “Mr. Spock, please distract me from the cold,” I barely whisper.

“And how shall I do that?” he asks.

“Tell me something sciencey, preferably about the stars. Which ones shine brightest?” I ask.

He begins to ramble about the structure of the Milky Way, the life cycle of stars, spilling facts left and right, until his voice lulls me back to sleep.

—————————

I awaken to a beam of sunlight shining in my eye, and notice that I am no longer freezing.

Spock nudges me, “Y/n, are you awake?”

I shift to where I am no longer pressed against Spock. “We’re alive?” I ask.

“Affirmative, did I not promise you that we would survive?” he states.

I stand up, and walk to the cave entrance, sitting on a rock. The sun warms my skin, and I welcome it, gazing at the flora or this strange planet. Soon, the rock shifts, and Spock sits beside me.

I pull my legs up to my face, and rest my chin on my knees. “It sure is a beautiful planet in the daylight.”

“Not quite so beautiful as you though,” he states.

“Huh?” I gaze at him in confusion, and he looks back with the slightest smile. My heart pounds in my chest. “Y-you think I’m beautiful?”

“To me, you are the most beautiful creature in this universe,” he replies.

I press my hand to his forehead. “I think the cold made you sick, sir.”

He shakes his head, and lightly chuckles. “I assure you my health is perfectly fine.”

“So then why are you calling me beautiful?” I ask.

“Y/n, I have always found you beautiful. We were dangerously close to death last night, and I am not prepared to die without expressing how I feel about you,” he explains.

“Spock I… I don’t know what to say,” I stutter. “But I feel just the same. I’ve always admired you, your wit, your vast knowledge of things, and um… the ears.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You like my ears? Fascinating.”

“More than the ears, I think you are quite attractive,” I state, heart still pounding.

I gaze back an forth between his eyes and his lips, and he leans into me. I breach the gap, and press my lips to his. He takes little effort to lift me onto his lap.

He breaks the kiss, and looks into my eyes. “Ashayem, you are so beautiful.”

“Ashayem, means “my love” doesn’t it?” I ask.

“Yes, it does,” he replies.

“But you are Vulcan. Do you feel love?” I ask.

“I may not express it, but I guarantee you that I feel it. You must not have any doubt that I can love. I can find you beautiful, and I can love you,” he gazes at me with his beautiful brown eyes.

“I-I love you too, T’hy’la,” I reply.

His eyes widen slightly. “You have been studying about Vulcan?”

I nod my head. He smiles, and kisses me once more, this time with a little more passion.

“Kirk to Spock can you read me?” Spock’s tricorder speaks.

“Spock to Kirk, I hear you loud and clear,” he replies.

“Do you have Y/n with you?,” Captain Kirk asks.

Spock seats me back on the rock, stands and helps me stand. He lightly kisses the side of my head before replying, “Affirmative Captain, two to beam up.”

Once we made it back to the Enterprise, Spock was adamant that I get my frostbite checked out in medical, while still Trying not to seem suspiciously overprotective. I had a feeling that it would not be long until Doctor McCoy fished all the details out of me

[sonder-paradise]

𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢

◊ genre. kitsune au

◊ characters. kitsune!osamu dazai, gn!reader

◊ wc. 1k

◊ part iv of Just One Wish

Evaporation can be defined as something abstract fading away and out of existence. For Dazai, he had seen the waves of time evaporate the lives of thousands of humans. They were so fragile, so short-lived. When you count the grains of an hourglass, you may find even yourself evaporating. 

And that was what Dazai thought in the brief moments when smoke filled his lungs, when the forest cried out for him. An echo rang out somewhere in the woods. A snap, a crackle pierced the snowy grounds.

Tumbling onto the mounds of snow and the hidden torii, Dazai watched as you evaded the shrill hordes of men at your feet. His heart pounding in his chest as his mind scrambled to recollect what may have led up to this future.

He darted through the branches of the trees, following your movements with a swiftness he had seemed to have forgotten to have. Piles of crushing snow collapsed onto the men below. Each time, slowing them down in their pursuit for you.

Dazai didn’t question, didn’t know, didn’t understand, but he acted accordingly.

He could hear your baited breath through the ears of the trees. Your feet sunk into the forest ground that connected to his chest. All the while, he watched you run to the sole place you deemed safe: His Shrine. 

“Dazai!” Chuuya’s voice echoed above him just as he leapt onto another branch. 

He grit his teeth, looking back at you before sending a wave of ice and snow through the winds of the trees to block your pursuers. The precocious tengu landed on the branch above him with a signature glare. 

“A little busy here, Birdy.”

“You should be. I told you to focus on your duties, asshole,” Chuuya spat, crossing his arms as a feather landed on Dazai’s face. The kitsune blew it off before matching his glare. 

“What are you talking about? What does this have to do with my duties?” he exclaimed, tossing a hand at the burning village beneath him. Your home, the archives you worked at, the people you spoke to, the garden you worked in. All of it was being destroyed, evaporated, in front of his very eyes. 

“If you had listened to me, you would know that the Gods are unhappy with your work,” he continued, “Dazai, whatever happened to my mountains… Well, they’re about to happen to your shitty forest.” 

Dazai’s heart plummeted in his chest. His breath caught in his throat. His fingers twitched as he remembered the events of hundreds of years ago. When Chuuya dared to cross the Gods as he was doing now. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Dazai said, turning away from the tengu. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Dazai!” 

Dazai didn’t make mistakes. He was a kitsune. He was illustrious, all-knowing. He knew the forest and the humans he watched over. Dazai was… 

Dazai was about to lose you. 

The trees careening above his shrine creaked and ached as the pursuers approached. He could hear your breath from inside his shrine walls. You resided in the heart of the room and with that, he ensured your safety. Just as he landed above the rooftop, the trees fell to the ground with a thundering crash, completely blocking the assailants. 

Your name fell from his mouth as he dove into the shrine. It was dark inside. Blood reeked from the walls and he felt his mouth go dry. Another call of your name was what seemed to alert you. A movement from the shadows caught his eye and he darted towards it. 

“Dazai…?” 

You were laying on your side. He could hear your breath in the wind and his ears perked. His tail rose as he drew near. His arms enveloped you tightly, cradling your head with gentle hands.

This was the first time he was holding you like this. He prayed it wouldn’t be the last. 

You looked up at him with wide eyes. Silence creeping into the shrine you so lovingly cleaned and cherished. This was your meeting place. The shrine that had brought you together. And yet, only Dazai knew the truth. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked softly, reaching up to grasp his sleeve. 

“Don’t say anything. Just… You’re going to be fine.”

As he lifted you, a muffled scream escaped your lips. You clutched his kimono with white-knuckled fingers. Dazai’s eyes widened. He could feel blood--your blood--against his fingertips and it made the fur on his tail stand. 

“Where is it…?” he said, rummaging through your layers of clothing to search your skin, “What happened? Tell me!” 

“My back,” you groaned, letting out a hiss through your teeth as he moved you again. His eyes widened as he noticed the protruding arrow lodged into your back. Blood seeped from the wound and drenched his kimono. Trembling hands caressed the arrow before going back to cup your face. 

He could see it.

The evaporation that had struck the lives of humans he had met throughout the many years of his existence. 

The way the light faded from their eyes and was replaced with nothingness. 

He called your name with shaky lips. “Don’t leave. Don’t go,” he whispered, “Who will clean my shrine? Who will make me those crab legs?” He pulled his lips into a tight smile. “Come on… You humans are so delicate, you know. You’ll be fine, right?”

Your voice came out with the same adoration he was so familiar with. 

“So you’re the deity that’s been taking care of me…” 

Dazai didn’t question, didn’t know, didn’t understand, but this time he could do nothing. Nothing except watch you evaporate from this mortal plane. When your hand went limp and he could no longer hear the sound of your heart, or the softness of your breath, Dazai felt as though he had been shot in the head. 

Taglist: @todorokichills @alittlesimp @greenshirtimaginesii @darlinqserenity @nameless-shrimp @whorefordazai @requiem626k @kruven @nonsense-corner @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @swrdemon @life-sus @foolishestchildofchilds @fyodorscello @kur0-kawa @planetxiao @dazaiaiko @chuuyasboots @ruthdied @allisonlol @questioningmyownexistence @sebtomm @nullified-kiss @nathansside @cuteflowers-101 @sigmafied @boombboi @scarletta-ruan @skgch @daz8i @httpsobi @dazaiscum @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @dazaisfavgf @alice0blog @irethepotato @vinyicryes @monastary @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @disa-ster @mastering-procrastinating @wonpielle

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Mommy, Please - Part 5

Kim Hongjoong x Park Seonghwa x Kang Yeosang

Word Count: 8792

Contents: teasing, degradation, oral, face fucking, use of princess, mommy, whore, and slut, hand jobs, fingering, anal sex, rimming, ass eating, slight orgasm denial, begging, dumbification

Note: It's done!!! And to my darling angel I hope today went well. Have this as a gift for all your hard work recently.

Previous

It was ridiculous, there was no other word for it at this point. Seonghwa was truly wondering if there was something wrong with him. After the experiences he had had in the last week he would have thought that his lust would have been satisfied but no. He was apparently a bottomless pit of desire recently no matter what he did.

It should have just been a normal movie night. He wasn’t even particularly planning to watch the movie at first, but the smell of popcorn had drawn him in and found himself curled up on the end of the couch, watching along with Mingi, Jongho, and Wooyoung. It wasn’t even a particularly steamy movie, either. There was one heated make out scene in the middle of the movie and that was it. One scene, only a couple of minutes long, but it was apparently enough to have Seonghwa incredibly turned on.

He’d pulled a pillow onto his lap when he was getting too visibly excited and prayed that no one else noticed it. As the movie neared its end, Seonghwa pretended to doze off, hoping when it finished they would leave him alone on the couch and he could do a walk of shame back to his room without witnesses.

And at least in that one, solitary way, luck seemed to be on his side. The other three chuckled about how Seonghwa had fallen asleep but didn’t disturb him, instead letting him doze. Only once the room and hallway was silent did Seonghwa stir. He peeked an eye open before taking off from the couch and racing down the hall before anyone could see him. He had almost no time to decide if he should make a beeline for the bathroom or his bedroom. There was always a chance that Hongjoong would be in there but if he went in and out of the bathroom in the same clothes it would look weird to anyone who noticed.

And with his luck, someone would.

So he raced down the hallway to his bedroom. If Hongjoong was there maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe he’d just laugh but let him go to the bathroom in relative peace. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice. That wasn’t likely but he could hope. Maybe he wasn’t even there. Seonghwa wasn’t sure what he would find but, quickly, he had made his choice and found his hand on the door handle to his bedroom, only just registering the low light coming from underneath the door before pulling it open.

Seonghwa felt his heart absolutely plummet into his stomach, adrenaline pumping through his body in a reaction of pure stress as he opened the door to find Hongjoong and Yeosang, sitting comfortably on Hongjoong’s bed and drinking tea together.

Seonghwa opened his mouth and promptly closed it again. His mouth felt as dry as a desert as his heart hammered in his chest. And his dick twitched because, somehow, this was also turning him on. He was sure at this point he had to be broken because something that should have been humiliating, both Hongjoong’s and Yeosang’s eyes scanning down his body questioningly and taking in his clear excitement, was simply more arousing.

“Well.” Yeosang’s lips turned up into a smirk. “What an interesting surprise.”

“Did you expect me to be in here?” Hongjoong questioned.

“Of course he did.” Yeosang answered the question for him. 

“I-I was just…” Seonghwa’s heart was pounding in his ears as he looked between the two of them. “J-just… bathroom.” He managed weakly.

“Now now,” Hongjoong placed his tea aside and got up from the bed. “Don’t you remember what I told you?”

“I-I” Seonghwa’s eyes darted to Yeosang before coming back to Hongjoong. Did Yeosang know about what they had done? Did Hongjoong know about him and Yeosang? Had they talked about it? He couldn’t just come out and start calling Hongjoong mommy, could he? His brain felt clouded as he took in their expressions, like he was their little plaything and they were so ready for some fun. Like they were ready to devour him.

“God, what a poor thing.” Yeosang drawled, following Hongjoong off the bed and closing in on Seonghwa with him, like they were hungry lions and he a wounded gazelle. “Don’t tell us you’re already too dumb to speak, princess.”

Seonghwa had to clamp his mouth shut to stop from whimpering at simply the tone in Yeosang’s voice, so degrading and biting and so incredibly arousing to Seonghwa. His legs trembled just a little as the two came to stand in front of him, smirks adorning their lips. He tried desperately to think of something to say and opened his mouth but no sounds were produced.

“Nothing to say, princess?” Hongjoong questioned. “Come on, use that pretty little brain of yours.”

“Brain?” Yeosang chuckled. “Well I’m not sure he was much of a brain. Or maybe his behaviour as of late has been him thinking with his dick.”

“He has been acting up.” Hongjoong tutted. “And planning to go to the bathroom instead of what I told him.” He shook his head. “Maybe he hasn’t quite learned his lessons yet.”

Yeosang gave Hongjoong a look. “Perhaps we should try again to teach him how to behave properly.”

Seonghwa’s head was spinning as he listened to them talk about him, deliberating over what to do to him. He could hardly even manage to be mortified when a fantasy was playing out right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he was dreaming? Maybe he had fallen and hit his head? Maybe he was dead? Maybe whatever higher powers there were were finally fed up with him such a desperate whore and he was finally about to get the fucking he hoped would fix him.

He silently thanked the powers that be as Yeosang’s hand found his shoulder and started to push him down to his knees. His legs gave out easily under the slight pressure and he found himself gazing up at the two of them, swallowing hard, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously.

“No opinions in that pretty head, princess?” Hongjoong hummed.

“Of course not,” Yeosang chuckled. “He’s just going to let us use him like a good little plaything, right princess?”

Seonghwa nodded quickly, hands fisting the hem of his shirt. Yeosang reached out and brushed his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair and even the gentle touch had his senses alight. He shuddered under the sensation as his eyes dropped down to where both of them were now palming themselves over their pants. Seonghwa squirmed as he tried to wrap his mind around all of the possibilities that were presenting themselves.

Yeosang’s hand found a grip on his hair and he tugged his head back gently, forcing him to look up. Seonghwa’s lips parted in a silent gasp at the sensation, eyes fluttering just a little. 

“Look at that, he’s already opening his mouth for us.” Yeosang purred.

“Are you gonna take both of us in your mouth at once, princess?” Hongjoong teased.

“Do you think he can handle that?” Yeosang questioned.

“I-I” The words died on Seonghwa’s tongue as Yeosang smirked down at him.

“Oh? You think you can? Or you just want your greedy little mouth stuffed full?” Seonghwa whimpered and they both laughed in response.

“I think you’re right,” Hongjoong chuckled. “Poor, pretty boy just can’t wait to have something in his mouth. Bet you look so pretty with your mouth full, right princess?”

“Stunning.” Yeosang assured. “He’s the prettiest toy I’ve ever had.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help the moan that fell from his lips at their words, which only served to turn both of their lips up into smirks. Seonghwa couldn’t help the way his gaze slipped down their bodies, taking in how they were both at least half hard now as they palmed themselves. He couldn't seem to stop his tongue either, as it darted out to lick at his lips while Yeosang’s fingers started to undo the button on his pants. Hongjoong followed suit, pulling at the drawstrings of his sweats.

“What are you going to do if you can’t fit both in your mouth, princess?” Yeosang drawled.

“I-I I’ll-”

“You shouldn’t ask him such difficult questions.” Hongjoong chided. “It’s much too hard for him to think. Look at him, already so hard just from listening to us talk.” Seonghwa felt a wash of embarrassment as he shifted a little, hands moving to cover himself again. It was short lived though, as Hongjoong pushed his sweats and boxers down his hips and Seonghwa’s head started to spin. 

Yeosang followed suit, dropping his own pants past his hips and wrapping a hand around his cock to keep pumping it. He threaded his hand back into Seonghwa’s hair and tilted his head up just a little. His eyes shifted up to meet their hungry gazes and Seonghwa swallowed hard. He folded his hands in his lap, not even able to think of what he should do or how to behave. He simply waited for them to decide, to do the thinking for him.

“Such a good, pretty boy.” Hongjoong cooed. 

Yeosang snorted. “He can’t even think.”

“He doesn’t need to.” Hongjoong grinned. “Open up, pretty boy.”

Seonghwa did as he was told, letting his mouth fall open and gazing up at Hongjoong sweetly. Yeosang tilted his head back just a little more before Hongjoong guided his cock into Seonghwa’s mouth. His eyelids fluttered a little at the taste and weight on his tongue and the way Hongjoong’s cock pushed deep into his mouth.

Hongjoong’s hand replaced Yeosang’s in his hair and his grip was immediately much harsher. He held Seonghwa in place as he rolled his hips, thrusting in and out of his mouth a few times experimentally, and let out a groan. 

“Fuck, you feel good too, princess.” He breathed, snapping his hips a little harder and breaching the top of Seonghwa’s throat. Seonghwa gagged around him, eyes slipping closed as Hongjoong roughly fucked his throat. His nails dug into his own thighs, keeping himself steady as his head spun and the gasps of air between thrusts started to get him light-headed in the most wonderful way.

“He does, doesn’t he.” Yeosang chuckled. A pleasant shiver ran down Seonghwa’s spine as he felt Yeosang’s hand on his shoulder, feather-light touch dancing across his skin. “He has such a nice mouth.”

“So pretty. So fucking good.” Hongjoong groaned, stuffing all of his cock into Seonghwa’s mouth and staying there for a moment before pulling back out again. Seonghwa tried to catch his breath in sharp inhales, leaning back into Hongjoong’s hand for support as Hongjoong used his mouth.

“I knew he couldn’t handle both of us.” Yeosang tutted. “He’s already so fucked out just from having your cock down his throat.” Seonghwa tried to open his eyes at that, just barely managing it. He found Yeosang through his eyelashes and reached a hand in his direction, landing somewhere along his leg. He felt the rush through him at the smirk Yeosang fixed him with.

“Aww, are you gonna try and get me off too, whore?” Yeosang teased.

Seonghwa moaned around Hongjoong’s cock, something that earned him a sharp buck of his hips and his cock going even deeper. Drool ran down his chin, only getting messier the longer Hongjoong’s hard cock rammed down his throat.

He tried to focus what little mental energy he could on finding Yeosang’s cock with his hand. He felt Yeosang’s nails drag over his shoulder and it sent a thrill down his spine. His fingers trailed up Yeosang’s leg until he was able to wrap his fingers around his cock, squeezing lightly and starting to sloppily pump it.

“That’s your best?” Yeosang questioned. Hongjoong pulled fully out of Seonghwa’s mouth, holding his head back and letting him breathe. “You really can’t handle two at once.”

Seonghwa felt the heat lick at his cheeks at Yeosang’s words as his gaze flickered between their grins. With whatever determination he had he brought his other hand up to Hongjoong’s cock, wrapping it around tightly and starting to pump it while he leaned towards Yeosang and took his cock as deep as he could into his mouth with a moan. A spark of satisfaction ignited in him at the groan that fell from Yeosang’s lips.

“Better.” He breathed, just as Seonghwa pulled off. He brought his lips back to Hongjoong, taking him into his mouth again and letting Hongjoong grab his hair and set the pace for a few moments while he started jerking Yeosang off more quickly.

As he finally found a rhythm, switching between their cocks, feeling them hit the back of his throat and pumping the other with his hand they both started to react, letting out groans and heavy breaths, with hands running into his hair or grabbing at it to guide him on their cocks. His knees started to grow sore from his position but he couldn’t care less as he kept a hard cock in either hand, taking them as far down his throat as anatomically possible. 

Each of them with their own divine sounds only mixed with the lewd wet noises and muffled moans coming from Seonghwa’s own mouth. It was only turning him on more by the second and were his hands not otherwise occupied he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from sticking one of them into his sweats; his desperation for some kind of touch only increasing.

“Fuck, such a good boy, princess.” Hongjoong groaned. “Making mommy feel so good.”

“Poor little slut is probably getting needy.” Yeosang drawled, though his voice was breathy. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

He pulled out of Seonghwa’s mouth and Seonghwa gazed up at him, nodding quickly.

“Be a good boy and use your words, princess.” Hongjoong cooed.

“P-Please.” Seonghwa’s voice came out a little rough and more than a little whiny. “Please touch me.”

“Good boy.” Hongjoong praised. “Why don’t you get those clothes off, hm?” 

Seonghwa let go of both of their dicks, hands shaking a little as they found the hem of his shirt and he lifted it over his head. He avoided their gazes, a shy feeling overwhelming him as his skin was revealed. He felt the heat on his cheeks but ignored it as he tried to stand, stumbling as his legs slowly regained circulation after being folded under him.

They both let out a laugh but Yeosang caught him, helping him to stand on his shaking legs with a smug grin on his face.

“You haven’t even had a cock in you yet and you can barely walk.” Yeosang chuckled. A pitiful whine was all that left Seonghwa’s lips which only made them both laugh harder. Still, Yeosang undid the drawstring on Seonghwa’s sweats with one smooth tug. He and Hongjoong pushed the sweats down Seonghwa’s hips. He curled in on himself just a little bit under their gazes, trying to resist the urge to cover himself as he suddenly felt so exposed.

“Go get on the bed, princess,” Yeosang purred into his ear.

Seonghwa nodded before unsteadily making his way to the bed. His legs wobbled under him and he was a little awkward as he climbed onto the bed and sat, grabbing a pillow to cover himself. When he looked up at Hongjoong and Yeosang again they were whispering to each other, grinning, and chuckling. Seonghwa shifted a little, feeling his cheeks burning and cock twitching as he tried to guess what they could be planning.

“No need to cover yourself,” Hongjoong hummed. “Show us how pretty you are, princess.”

Seonghwa nodded and moved the pillow off his lap, dropping his gaze bashfully. The two approached the bed, whispering to each other again. Seonghwa rested back on his hands, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he tried to anticipate their next moves. Yeosang fixed him with a gaze that had heat shooting down his spine and making his cock twitch.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He drawled. Seonghwa moved as quickly as he could, finally feeling a little more steady just in time for them to ruin him. He faced towards the pillows of the bed, getting situated before looking back over his shoulder expectantly and seeing the way both of them were taking in every bit of him with their gazes. He looked at the pillows again, fingers digging into the soft fabric under him and taking a deep breath as he felt the bed dip behind him. He felt hands traveling up his bare legs and over his hips, feather-light touches that had him biting back his whines. 

The bed alongside him dipped and a hand slid up his back until he felt fingers under his chin, tilting his face up. He blinked his eyes open to find Hongjoong grinning down as he settled in front of him. Seonghwa only managed a whimper as he felt Yeosang’s lips starting to kiss along the backs of his thighs and Hongjoong threaded fingers into his hair. Hongjoong’s free hand reached into his bedside table, grabbing some lube and tossing it down the bed before returning his attention to Seonghwa.

“You really are such a pretty toy.” He hummed, guiding his cock to Seonghwa’s mouth. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding that pretty little ass from us this whole time. Fuck-” He breathed, rocking his hips lazily into Seonghwa’s mouth. “Bet you’re gonna feel so tight around mommy’s cock, aren’t you?” Seonghwa moaned in response to that and another chuckle came from behind him.

“You like it when we talk about you that way so much, don’t you princess? Such a little slut, you’re leaking just from the thought of us fucking you.” Yeosang teased. Seonghwa didn't have a chance to even formulate an answer, not only because of the cock down his throat but because of the way Yeosang’s tongue suddenly met his entrance, running around the sensitive edge.

Seonghwa’s eyes rolled back, arms shaking a little as they tried to hold him up. It was so little but he was so insanely sensitive and needy now that any little touch was making him shake. He pressed his hips back, moaning around Hongjoong’s cock again and earning a buck of his hips.

Seonghwa’s head started positively spinning, barely able to believe this was happening. Perhaps in a few moments he would suddenly wake up, all of this being some kind of dream. Or maybe it was all a big, elaborate prank meant to humiliate him. Maybe they were just gathering all of his dirty little secrets to use against him forever.

The probability of that being the answer was dropping drastically by the second as he felt Yeosang’s tongue pressing into him. His thighs trembled at the sensation, the warmth and wetness that started to stretch him out and the vibration as Yeosang moaned against him. Each thrust and curl of his tongue had Seonghwa gripping the sheets and moaning around the cock filling his mouth.

“Feeling good, princess?” Hongjoong questioned. Seonghwa’s eyelids fluttered, feeling as fucked out as he knew he must look as he rocked his hips back a little more. He let out a moan in response before Hongjoong pulled out of his mouth, letting him catch his breath.

“I didn’t quite hear that, princess.” He teased.

“Good, so good.” Seonghwa groaned.

“Mommy’s tongue feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.” The sound came off his lips as a whine as he nodded quickly, letting his eyes fall closed and enjoying the sensation. 

“You know, good boys show some gratitude when they’re being treated well.” Hongjoong lightly scolded him. As if on cue Yeosang’s hands on his thighs dug in, nails adding a sudden and pleasurable jolt of pain.

“Ah- Th-Thank you- Thank you, mommy. Feels s-so good.” He managed.

Yeosang rewarded him by pressing his tongue even deeper and drawing a wanton moan from him. His arms trembled again and his head dropped, only for Hongjoong to yank up back up. He looked up through his eyelashes, hips trying to grind back against Yeosang’s tongue but being held in place by his strong hands. 

“Try and keep your head up, princess.” Hongjoong let go of his hair and Seonghwa did his best to keep looking up at him, eyes open and lips parted in needy whimpers. “That’s it, what a good boy.” Hongjoong slipped two fingers into Seonghwa’s mouth, which he sucked in greedily, gazing up with half lidded eyes.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.” Whether Hongjoong was really saying it to him or just speaking to himself Seonghwa didn’t know. He moaned anyway, sucking a little harder on the fingers, swirling his tongue around them. His gaze flickered between Hongjoong watching him with intensity and the way he was pumping his cock, slow and lazy like he had all the time in the world.

Seonghwa did his best to keep his eyes open as he took in all of the sensations, from the warm, wet muscle moving inside him to the hands gripping his thighs to keep him still. The wet sounds coming from Yeosang’s ministrations and the way it had Seonghwa’s cock leaking. The view in front of him, Hongjoong’s hard and enticing cock so close to his face that it had him opening his mouth wider around Hongjoong’s fingers, as if inviting him to come back in again, wanting more. 

He was already sensitive and needy. His cock was still untouched but every moment of this was making the heat in the pit of his stomach swirl tighter, muscles in his stomach and thighs tensing. How much would they do to him? For how long would they play? There was surely no way he could hold out for that long?

How many times did they plan to make him cum?

That thought alone had his mind spinning. He tried to make sense of his thoughts and come up with something coherent but the sudden emptiness of his hole derailed that. He let out a whine as Hongjoong pulled his fingers out of Seonghwa’s mouth, using the wet fingers to grip his chin firmly.

“Don’t complain, princess.” He grinned. “You don’t even know what’s coming next.”

As if on cue two fingers plunged into his entrance, drawing a broken moan from his lips. A wash of pleasure rushed through him from the sudden, much deeper sensation. When he tried to close his eyes Hongjoong’s grip squeezed tighter on his jaw.

“Poor slut doesn’t know how to think.” Yeosang chuckled. “How could we ever expect him to anticipate what’s coming next.” He curled his fingers deep inside of Seonghwa, causing his back to arch and his thighs to tense, feeling his high coming closer so fast now. “Can’t even use his manners properly.”

“What should you be saying, princess?” Hongjoong reminded him.

“Thank you.” Seonghwa gasped out. “Th-Thank you, mommy. Need- mm need…”

“What do you need, princess?” Hongjoong cooed.

“Is it not enough for you?” Yeosang asked.

Seonghwa shook his head in an attempt to communicate that it was, in fact, the exact opposite problem. His brain was so foggy with pleasure and he fought with it to express himself. 

“Need to- t-to- so close-” He moaned, eyes fluttering shut before forcing them open again to an almost sadistic smile forming on Hongjoong’s lips.

“No.” He said simply.

“Mommy, please-”

“Not yet.”

“Oh, you are cruel, Kim Hongjoong.” Yeosang chuckled, slowing his fingers for just a moment before stuffing a third inside of Seonghwa. His arms nearly gave out at that, shaking harder and struggling to hold him up as Yeosang’s fingers only moved faster. He could feel it now, the pressure that was so close to flowing over and he was desperate for a good orgasm this time.

“Please please please mommy please.” He gave Hongjoong his sweetest doe-eyed gaze as he started to beg. “Please please need it- need to s-so bad.”

“Aw, of course you do, princess. But the answer is still no.”

“C-Can’t- I can’t-”

“Yes, you can.”

“Pretty little whores need at least some self control.” Yeosang added. 

“Please please. I-I’ll be so good. L-Let you use m-me.”

“Aren’t you already doing that?” Hongjoong questioned. “Come on, use that pretty little brain to think of something better.”

“I-I’ll cum for you.” Seonghwa was fighting back his own release now. He knew already he couldn’t get away with this without permission. “C-Cum as many times as you want, a-as much as y-you want please! U-Use me, please all the time, a-anytime mommy wants. Please just please please let me cum.”

“Anytime we want.” Yeosang groaned.

“That was much better.” Hongjoong grinned. “You can cum.”

The last bit of resolve Seonghwa had disappeared as his orgasm hit him. He moaned out thank yous as he fell against the sheets, Yeosang’s fingers moving roughly inside of him now, stretching him out in the best way and carrying him through the waves of his release. Hot, sticky cum landed on the sheets under him, more than he was sure he’d ever released before but he barely had the mental capacity to even realize it.

Yeosang’s fingers didn’t let up at all. Even as Seonghwa’s release ebbed and sensitivity set in the movements were just as rough and deep. Seonghwa’s legs shook as his face fell fully into the sheets of Hongjoong’s bed, letting out whimpers and broken moans. His fingers dug into the duvet, holding on for anything to keep him grounded as his whole body positively reeled.

“That’s it.” Hongjoong cooed. “Be a good boy and take it.”

“I’m sure he could take even more.” Yeosang hummed.

“Oh, he will, since we get to use however we like, for however long.” Even with his head buried in the duvet Seonghwa could hear the grin in Hongjoong’s voice. “We just need that pretty little hole all ready.”

“He’s almost there,” Yeosang chuckled. “Doesn’t take that much work to stretch out a whore, right princess?”

“Y-Yes mommy.” Seonghwa’s voice was muffled by the sheets and weak from all the moans he’d let out so far but it was just audible enough for the two to hear, earning him a squeeze of his thigh and Hongjoong’s fingers gently carding through his hair.

“Such a good boy,” Hongjoong cooed. “Just relax and let mommy finish stretching out that little hole.”

Seonghwa whimpered in response. Every bit of his body felt over sensitive, even the gentle touches of their fingers felt electric against his skin. Each curl of Yeosang’s fingers made him jolt and gasp. His hips had slumped down against the mattress by that point, thighs trembling as fingers brushed past those heavenly spots inside him.

He couldn’t keep from whimpering and whining as Yeosang moved his fingers. His emotions felt a little too full and his mind a little too empty as they cooed at him through the last of Yeosang’s ministrations. A sigh left his lips when the fingers finally left him and a shiver ran through him as he buried his face a little further into the duvet, earning a laugh from both of them. He paid very little attention to them shuffling around on the bed.

“Poor thing, you’re not tired already, are you, princess?” Yeosang chuckled, now in front of him. Seonghwa shook his head lazily, barely comprehending the question, but understanding much more clearly as Hongjoong’s hands found his hips and started to prop them up again.

Despite how hazy he felt a slight panic shot through him, as if everything were happening a little too fast and he didn’t quite have the time to catch up. Seonghwa reached his arm out and grabbed Yeosang, lifting his head just a little to give him an anxious look.

Yeosang’s expression immediately softened and so did his voice. “What’s wrong, princess?”

His words were enough to stop Hongjoong too, whose hands moved instead to rub over his hips soothingly. “Do you need a few minutes, princess?” He asked gently. Seonghwa gave the nod of affirmation to Yeosang, still looking up at him through his lashes, though his eyes fluttered closed as Yeosang started carding his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair.

“Poor baby.” He cooed.

“Your fingers are just too good.” Hongjoong hummed, gently massaging Seonghwa’s thighs in a way that was soothing him more and more by the second. 

“You should try them sometime.” Yeosang replied, both of them chuckling.

It took a few more minutes of calm breathing and gentle touches and massages from the two before Seonghwa felt like his mind was returning to him. His body finally not so unmanageably sensitive now that he’d had time to recover. Slowly he started to wiggle his hips a little and brought his gaze back up to look at Yeosang again, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“What is it, princess?” Yeosang cooed.

“Mommy~” He whined, his tone alone making it clear he was ready to play again. A grin spread across Yeosang’s lips.

“Be a good boy and use your words, princess.” Hongjoong cooed.

“You should have at least a few words in that pretty head of yours after that little break.” Yeosang added. “Or is it usually just that empty?”

Seonghwa shook his head quickly. He still felt fuzzy but in a pleasant, floaty kind of way, but it meant it was still a struggle to find the words he needed.

“‘m ready.” He hummed.

“For what, princess?” Yeosang chuckled.

“Please?” Surely that was enough of a sentence.

“Please…?” Hongjoong said. “Come on, princess. You can do it.”

Seonghwa groaned and dropped his face back into the sheets, pressing his ass up in hopes of getting out of using his brain. Yeosang’s fingers curled at his hair and tugged his head up, not too rough but still enough to make him whimper. He pouted as he looked up to meet Yeosang’s gaze.

“Don’t start misbehaving now, princess.” Yeosang warned. Seonghwa swallowed hard, nodding slowly and trying again to think.

“R-Ready for more, now, please.”

“See, not so hard.” Hongjoong cooed. “Get that pretty ass up for me.”

Seonghwa did as he was told, getting back onto his hands and knees but bringing his chest down to the bed, ass pressed up in the air as Hongjoong moved around behind him again. As he heard the sound of lube squirting out of the bottle he peeked up at Yeosang who was grinning down at him, fingers carding through his hair. Seonghwa felt a shiver run down his spine as Hongjoong’s fingertips ran up the sides of his thighs.

“Ready, princess?” Yeosang hummed.

“Yes, mommy.” Seonghwa’s words broke off into a whimper, eyes fluttering as he felt Hongjoong’s cock grinding against his ass.

“Poor, needy little thing.” Yeosang cooed. “What did a sweet little slut like you do without us, hm?”

Seonghwa opened his mouth as if he could have even formulated an answer, but all that came out was a broken moan as Hongjoong eased his tip inside. A wave of pleasure washed over him as he stretched around Hongjoong. His head fell forwards into the soft pillows as his thighs trembled. 

“So cute.” Yeosang chuckled, running his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair. “Is it that good already?”

“Y-Yes mommy.” He whined into the pillow, fingers gripping the soft sheets of the bed as Hongjoong sunk into him little by little.

“I hope you can handle more than this.” Yeosang tutted. “You’re already falling apart and you haven’t even taken all of mommy’s cock yet.”

Seonghwa was glad to be on his hands and knees. He was sure if he had had to support himself in any way and use his own two legs he would have collapsed. As it was, he was trembling from Yeosang’s words and Hongjoong’s cock. Shaky moans fell right into the pillows below him as everything swirled in his mind.

Despite already having one release he could already feel the next one starting to build. Hongjoong’s soft grunts were getting to him more and more as he eased in further, deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out, a harsh grip on Seonghwa’s hips. Each little shift as he got more comfortable on his knees sent a small shockwave of pleasure through Seonghwa’s body, drawing a whimper from his lips.

“Fuck, so you’re so tight around me, princess.” Hongjoong groaned, rolling his hips in, deep and agonizingly slow. “Feel so good.”

“Good- g-good f-f-for- mmmm.” Seonghwa struggled to put together a coherent sentence at the way Hongjoong was moving in him, the slow movements making him dizzy. He felt Yeosang tug at his hair and struggled, trying to push himself up out of the pillows. A hand found his chin and Yeosang tilted his face up to look at him, smirking at whatever expression was painted across Seonghwa’s face. He didn’t know what he looked like in a moment like this, he wondered if they would ever show him in the mirror and he moaned just at the idea of that.

“God, what a pretty little slut, you are.” Yeosang groaned. “What were you trying to tell mommy?”

“Good f-for- for-” Seonghwa tried to gather the few thoughts he had but they slipped away a little more every time Hongjoong sunk into him again. “For…”

“Come on, princess.” Hongjoong purred, slowing his hips even more. “You were about to say it. You haven’t forgotten already have you?”

“You really have too much faith in him.” Yeosang chuckled, giving Seonghwa an overly sweet grin. “I doubt there’s a single thought left behind those pretty eyes.”

Seonghwa let out a whimper at those words, lashes fluttering as arousal shot through him. Hongjoong came to a near halt behind him, half pulled out as he squeezed Seonghwa’s waist. A pout pulled at Seonghwa’s lips as he gazed up at Yeosang, as if pleading with him for more movement.

“What?” Yeosang asked. “You can’t even speak up and you expect him to keep fucking you?”

“P-Please.”

“Is that the only word you know, princess?” Hongjoong teased. “Is everything else gone?”

“M-Mommy~”

“Good job, princess.” Yeosang mocked. “You know two words.”

“M-More. Please, please.” Seonghwa managed. He rocked back, letting out a moan as Hongjoong’s cock sunk in deeper. His eyes fluttered closed as he did it again and Hongjoong groaned at the feeling.

“Can’t wait, princess?” He asked. “Gonna do it yourself now?”

Seonghwa nodded, letting out small “mhm”s as he continued to press his hips back, trying to take Hongjoong as deep as he could.

“God, what a desperate little whore.” Yeosang teased. “Can’t even go a few seconds without being stuffed full, can you?”

Seonghwa shook his head. His fingers dug into the sheets as he pushed himself up a little more on shaky arms. He brought his hips back with a little more purpose, a little more force, trying to take all of Hongjoong’s cock each time. The pleasure that washed through him each time was heavenly.

“What a good boy.” Hongjoong groaned. “Keep going. Fuck yourself on mommy’s cock.”

Seonghwa did just as he was told, hips moving faster and moans pouring off his lips each time he stretched around Hongjoong. Sweat was beading on his forehead, his hair sticking to it, from the effort. Yeosang’s finger gripped his hair more roughly before tugging his head up harshly, drawing a gasp from his lips. Seonghwa managed to open his eyes, gazing up at Yeosang as he brought two fingers to his mouth. Seonghwa sucked them with a moan.

“Need to keep that mouth full, too. Right, princess?” Yeosang snickered. “A whore can’t handle being empty for too long, hm?”

Seonghwa nodded and moaned, swirling his tongue around Yeosang’s fingers as he continued to fuck himself backwards, hips slowing a little. Breathy groans fell from Hongjoong’s lips behind him, a strong grip on his hips still. Yeosang regarded him with a smirk the whole time, keeping one hand in his mouth and slowly jerking off with the other while he watched.

“Are you getting distracted sucking on those fingers?” If Seonghwa had his wits about him he might have noticed the breathiness in Hongjoong’s voice, how clearly affected he was. But his wits were seemingly nowhere to be found.

“Concentration is a challenge, clearly.” Yeosang tutted. “You can’t have my fingers in your mouth if you can’t multitask.” Seonghwa whimpered as Yeosang pulled his fingers away, shaking his head and frowning down at him. “Focus.” Yeosang scolded.

“Fuck yourself properly, princess.” Hongjoong hummed. “You can do that for mommy, right?”

“Y-Yes, mommy.” Seonghwa’s voice was shaky as he focused all his energy on taking Hongjoong’s cock. He bit down on his lip, though moans still slipped out around the edges of his mouth as he moved. He tried his best to keep his eyes open, gazing up at Yeosang sweetly. His eyes flickered down every few moments to take in the sight of his hard cock in his hand and then back up to the smirk gracing his lips.

Hongjoong let out a groan at Seonghwa’s renewed effort. His hands guided Seonghwa back, urging him to go faster. Seonghwa felt his thighs trembling as the pleasure started to build even more, feeling arousal rush through him. His eyelids fluttered but he kept his eyes open, though unable to keep eye contact with Yeosang when the sight of his enticing cock was right there. 

“Keep going if you want it, whore.” Yeosang purred.

“Keep going, princess.” Hongjoong said. “Feeling so good.”

Seonghwa could feel the burn in his thighs starting as he kept going but he truly didn’t care. Even if it tired out his muscles he loved the way Hongjoong felt sinking into him each time. The slow swirling in the pit of his stomach was begging for more though, wanting to start chasing his high again. The thought of cumming again was starting to consume him, quickly taking over what little brain power he had left.

“P-Please.” The word came out in a broken moan. He turned his pleading gaze up at Yeosang as he panted and moaned.

“What do you want?” Yeosang quirked an eyebrow at him, as if he was actually inquiring, as if he didn’t already know.

“Please.” He moaned again.

“Use your words, princess.” Hongjoong said.

“An impossible task.” Yeosang laughed.

“M-More?” Seonghwa managed. He knew it wasn’t a full sentence but he was scrambling for anything that would get his point across as his legs started to slow from fatigue. “P-Please, mommy.”

“Ask a little bit better, princess.” Hongjoong encouraged. “I know you can do a little better.”

Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut, coming to a halt as he tried to think. It was an act that made Yeosang laugh much harder.

“Poor slut really can’t do two things at once, can he?”

“Now that you’re not moving.” Hongjoong chuckled. “Tell me what you want, princess.”

“Please, p-please…” He needed more than that. “Fuck, please fuck.”

“Almost there, princess. Just one more word.” Hongjoong said, squeezing his hips.

“M-Me.”

“Now put them all together.”

“God, I didn’t even know it was possible for you to get this dumb, princess.” Yeosang laughed, running fingers through his hair. 

“Yeosang, you’ll distract our poor little mess if you keep talking like that.” Hongjoong snickered.

“Please- please.” It felt like the hardest task of Seonghwa’s life but he persisted anyway. “Me- m-me. Please, p-please f-fuck me.”

“Good boy.” Hongjoong praised him, pulling almost all the way out of him. “That wasn’t so hard, right?”

Seonghwa didn’t have a chance to answer before Hongjoong was slamming his hips back into him. Only the hold on his hips was enough to keep him from falling forwards into the pillows. He let out a cry as pleasure shot through him from the sudden, rough thrusts. His legs trembled and the sound of skin on skin filled the air each time Hongjoong’s hips met his ass. 

“Gonna be a good boy, princess?” Hongjoong groaned, much more roughly than before.

“Y-Yes, mommy.” He just barely managed to get the words off his lips but he would do just about anything to keep this feeling going, especially as his high started to approach. 

“Gonna take all of mommy’s cum, right?”

“Yes, y-yes.” Seonghwa nodded quickly. “P-please.”

The only thing that kept Seonghwa’s head up was Yeosang’s fingers tangled in his hair. As Hongjoong’s hips snapped roughly into him his arms trembled and threatened to give out entirely. He would have dropped his head into the soft pillow but the dull pain of Yeosang pulling on his hair only added to the pleasure. Each thrust forced him forwards a little, only kept from moving too far by Hongjoong’s grip on his waist.

“Good god, the poor little whore is drooling.” Yeosang laughed. Seonghwa couldn’t even manage to open his eyes to look at Yeosang as drool started dripping down his chin, eyes rolling back the second he pried them open. The pleasure was building so much faster now, muscles tensing through his stomach and his legs as Hongjoong sunk into him over and over. The feeling was so insanely good, he was sure he’d never been fucked so well in his life and some part of him wondered why it took this long to fool around with them.

“Poor princess.” Hongjoong groaned. “Is mommy fucking you too good?”

“Mhm.” Seonghwa hummed, nodding as best he could. His moans were climbing higher, louder each time Hongjoong thrust into him. Hongjoong’s own voice was breathy as he let out curses and groans until he finally released with a few final, hard thrusts. He released deep inside Seonghwa and it felt dizzying as Hongjoong filled him up. 

“Good boy.” Hongjoong praised. “Take all of it.”

Seonghwa moaned out weak thank yous as Yeosang let him go, letting him fall into the pillows below. Hongjoong ground into him just a little more before finally pulling out of him and letting his hips slump down to the bed too. Seonghwa panted, eyes closed and sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. He was incredibly sensitive and so close that just his hips falling against the soft bed made him jolt and let out a sharp gasp at the sensation.

“Hope you’re not too tired, princess.” Yeosang purred. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

“N-Not- Not…” Seonghwa couldn’t manage much more than a word.

“Are you okay to keep going, princess?”

Seonghwa’s eyelids fluttered a little but ultimately ended up closed still as he mumbled something that he couldn’t even understand. He felt a hand carding through his hair and felt the mattress dipping as they moved around him. He could sense that Yeosang came closer to his face before he spoke again, his voice softer.

“Try and look at me, princess.”

Seonghwa tried again to open his eyes, managing to fix Yeosang with a slightly unfocused gaze.

“Can you take more, princess?”

Seonghwa blinked a few times as his brain worked slowly to process. But once it settled in he felt a rush of arousal through him and moaned, shifting his hips a little against the bed as Hongjoong fully settled back against the pillows on the other side of him. Yeosang smiled with a sweetness that was so different from everything else that day it made Seonghwa feel almost shy.

“I need words.” He hummed.

“Mm…”

“Full words, princess.”

“M-More…” Seonghwa whined. “Please.”

“Good boy.” Yeosang praised, pulling his hand away and moving around to the end of the bed. He took a moment to coat his cock in lube before his hands were sliding up Seonghwa’s legs. Seonghwa felt hands on his hips urging him to roll over and he did just that, lazily flopping over onto his back. He felt Yeosang’s grip tighten and he yelped, eyes flying open as Yeosang pulled him roughly, bringing his ass to the edge of the bed.

“Ready, princess?” Yeosang asked, pulling Seonghwa’s legs up and throwing them over his shoulders. 

“Yes, mommy.” Seonghwa’s voice came out breathless as he gazed at Yeosang, excitement thrilling him.

“Good boy.” Yeosang grinned, grinding his cock slowly for a moment, seemingly enjoying the way it made Seonghwa squirm. He brought a hand to his cock, aligning it with Seonghwa’s entrance. Seonghwa felt a hand in his hair, playing with it lazily and spared a glance at Hongjoong who was resting now and watching them.

As soon as Yeosang sank into him though, anything else was wiped from his mind. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of being full once again. A wanton moan cascaded from his lips as Yeosang found a strong grip on his thighs. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into him roughly, setting a quick pace immediately that quickly knocked the last few brain cells from Seonghwa’s mind.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this.” Yeosang groaned.

“He feels good, right?” Hongjoong hummed, a grin in his voice.

“He really does.” Yeosang responded. “God, you’re such a good fuck toy, princess.”

Seonghwa only managed babbles. His hands searched for something, anything to hold onto, to keep his soul from ascending right out of his body. Pleasure crashed through him from every rough thrust, from how deep Yeosang was fucking him. The orgasm that he had already been so close to before, he was now teetering on the edge of. His back arched and legs started to shake from how close he was.

“That’s right.” Yeosang growled. “Let me use you like a good little whore. Perfect little fuck toy.”

Pleas started to fall from Seonghwa’s lips. He babbled, barely coherent words that only added to the sound of skin on skin, to Yeosang’s groans and filthy words, to the slight creaking of the bed. Seonghwa was positively drowning in all of it now. The sounds and sensations enveloping all of his senses as he squeezed the bed sheets so tight he was sure his knuckles were white.

“Close, princess?” Yeosang asked. Seonghwa nodded, not even noticing how the bed shifted a little around him.

“Then cum for me.” He groaned. “Cum on my cock like the dirty little whore you are.”

A hand wrapped suddenly around Seonghwa’s cock, jerking it quickly and roughly as Yeosang pulled his legs together and snapped his hips even faster. Desperate, broken cries fell from Seonghwa’s lips, his back arching off the bed as he came hard, harder than he thought he had ever cum in his life. Stars burst behind his eyelids and his whole body shook with the force of the shockwave of pleasure that rushed through him. He pulled at the sheets as every last bit of cum was milked from his cock, landing hot and sticky on his lower stomach and dripping down his cock and the hand that was jerking him off.

“So fucking pretty when you cum, princess.” Yeosang groaned. “God, I need to see that all the time.” 

He only fucked Seonghwa harder and Seonghwa as sure if he were even sitting up, let alone standing, he would have passed out from it all. Yeosang was chasing his own high now as the hand let go of his cock and its owner, presumably Hongjoong, moved back up the bed and ran his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair, close enough to whisper to him.

“Th-Th-Tha…”

“Good boy, saying thank you.” Hongjoong praised. “Just take a little bit more, okay princess.”

Seonghwa nodded, feeling so spent and sensitive and whimpering, body still shaking. Hongjoong’s hand found one of his, squeezing it and cooing to him. “Good job, princess. You’re so good at this. Such a perfect little toy for us.”

Seonghwa cried out softly as Yeosang gave a few particularly hard thrusts and finally came to a halt, spilling his cum deep inside Seonghwa and making him feel impossibly full. Yeosang’s low moans were stunning and if Seonghwa had it in him he thought he might have just about cum again. 

Another few moments passed before Yeosang pulled out of him, letting his shaking legs down gently. Seonghwa couldn’t manage to pry his eyes open, just laying there panting and shaking. He felt both of them moving him properly onto the bed again. He whined as he felt the cum leaking out of him, as fatigue and soreness slowly started setting in.

He let out a soft, hiccup of a cry as he felt them cleaning him up, feeling far too sensitive now. Soft voices hushed him and felt a hand carding through his hair gently again. He leaned into the touch a little, trying and failing to get his eyes open.

“Just let us clean you up.” Hongjoong’s voice came out so soft and gentle as he murmured to Seonghwa. “You did such a good job.”

Seonghwa took a shaky breath, feeling his lower lip wobble a little as they cleaned him up with gentle touches. A few more moments and he was just barely able to get his eyes open, though focusing on anything in particular was hard. He felt someone getting him into a pair of clean boxers before they both climbed off the bed, finding some clothes of their own. 

Seonghwa hiccuped again, feeling emotionally sensitive as well as he watched them move around. He let out a whine that was enough for both of them to look over at him before quiet tears started to fall. Both Yeosang and Hongjoong were quick to rush back to bed, climbing in with him. Yeosang wrapped his arms around Seonghwa, pulling him to his chest as he tried to stop his tears.

“S-So- Sorry.” He mumbled. “Was- was so g-good j-just-”

“It’s okay.” Yeosang hushed him. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

“Does it hurt at all?” Hongjoong hummed, pressing against Seonghwa’s back and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Sore.” Seonghwa mumbled.

“I’ll run you a bath soon.” Yeosang hummed. At that, Seonghwa’s grip on him tightened, whimpering. “I’m not going anywhere yet.” Yeosang assured him.

Seonghwa calmed down a little at that. The tears subsided and he just tried to breathe evenly. Both of them snuggled with him, cooing at him and showering him in reassurances as he calmed down and felt like his mind was fully coming back to him. He pressed closer to Yeosang and the two of them got closer, making him feel much more secure. He hid his face in Yeosang’s chest as he cuddled between them.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly.

“Don’t apologize.” Yeosang hummed. “It’s okay.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Hongjoong added, nuzzling into the back of his neck. “You’re allowed to be a little emotional. We didn’t go easy on you.”

“Was… Was I okay?” Seonghwa asked quietly.

His question was met with a cascade of reassurances and comfort. He felt the way warmth ran up his cheeks as they showered him with praise and told him what a good boy he’d been. It made him feel that much more shy but at least he thought he had done okay, that they weren’t disappointed in him.

“You handled everything so well.” Yeosang cooed.

“You were perfect for us.” Hongjoong said. “Did you have fun?”

Seonghwa nodded shyly. “So much fun.” He mumbled, drawing chuckles from the other two. “We- We can do it a-again. I-If…”

“If you want to keep playing around, I’m more than happy to.” Yeosang hummed.

“Me too.” Hongjoong added. “You just have to actually tell us when you’re needy.” The two of them chuckled while Seonghwa squirmed.

“That’s… It’s hard.” He whined.

“We can’t know you’re needy if you don’t say anything.” Hongjoong said.

“Well, sometimes we can.” Yeosang added with a chuckle. “But, you need to speak up and we’ll be more than happy to help you.”

“You’re very fun to take care of.” Hongjoong agreed.

Seonghwa let out a whimper of embarrassment, all of his shame having returned to him now. The two of them chuckled but they still comforted him until he pulled back just enough to look at Yeosang, almost feeling his words leave him as he took in the sweet smile on his face.

“Th-Thank you.” Seonghwa mumbled, breaking eye contact quickly.

“You don’t have to worry about that now.” Yeosang assured him.

“N-No I- It was fun. Th-Thank you for taking care of me.” He mumbled.

“You’re too cute.” Hongjoong cooed, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck that made him shiver.

“We should be thanking you.” Yeosang chuckled. “You let us play with you so nicely. Now how about we take a bath, hm?”

Seonghwa gave a little nod as they gently pulled him up out of bed.

[a-mymble-that-mumbles]

This might be a completely unpopular opinion (and it also might be wrong because it’s been A MINUTE, to say the least) but I hate the shadow and bone Netflix series. Hate it. Despise it. I remember watching half of the first episode and internally dying. They did the books so wrong.

Unfortunately just the mixing of the plot lines wasn’t the main issue for me.

They ruined Nina.

I have nothing against the actress who played Nina, not her portrayal if she was a stand-alone character in the Netflix series, apart from the books.

But Nina is MY GIRL. She’s not a flower she’s every blossom in the forest blooming at once. She is a tidal wave. She is overwhelming. She likes food. She loves waffles. She’s a flirt. She’s big, she’s loud, she isn’t proper.

When I was a youngling reading SOC for the first time, I read about Nina and felt okay for the first time in a while. Maybe the first time in my life. Because you could be beautiful and big. You could be graceful in battle but not when you’re plummeting. You can suck at the delicate art of tailoring.

You can say ‘I do not want to see that bird’ when someone says ‘You’re light as a feather’ without the stab in the heart.

I love Nina Zenik so much, I feel like she doesn’t get enough love in the fandom. And then again, I haven’t been active in the fandom for very long. I may be completely off-pace here.

But I love Nina Zenik, and I wanted to see my happy, shameless, loud and provocative girl on screen.

[reincarnationoftheparty]

A Slow Dance with a Stranger

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of depression.

*James always makes me cry when I read about his struggles with depression and loss, and all I wanna do is go back in time and give him the hug I know he needed. So I wrote this. This is also my first time posting something like this, so please bare with my rookie writing.*

A lone drop of water rolls down the cold glass, collecting condensation along the way. It grows heavier with accumulation, plummeting the rest of the way down to a small puddle gathered on wood, surrounding the base of the pint.

James sat reclined against the back of the leather barstool, arms crossed and glowering at the glass pint of beer. His hatred for the unwilling love he held for such a substance. It was powerful and complex, and quite frankly too intimidating to think about. So, he pushes the thought away, reaches for the handle and takes another swig.

The yeasty sweet liquid fizzes down his throat, to the pit of his stomach to join the familiar but nameless feeling that resided in his gut for as long as he could remember. Over the last year, it had gotten worse, what with Cliff’s unfortunate passing. He wasn’t too familiar with the idea of properly handling his emotions when it came to loss in his life. Although the thought of his friend’s life being cut too short tugged at his heart, it also conjured up anger. The constant reminder that the driver very well could have been lying with the patch of ice story, a cover up for careless, distracted, or intoxicated driving. Especially considering right after the bus accident occurred, James wandered out into the cold night in nothing but his boxers to find the patch of ice himself and found nothing.

The memory of that night echoed in his head like a broken record in a music hall. The crash, the panic, the cold biting his bare skin, the screams. Everyone’s screams. Cliffs silence.

There were many routes he could take these theories, and the more he plagued his mind with them, the angrier he got. The last time he let his fury flourish, he’d gotten himself and his buddies into trouble. So in attempt to abandon the thought process, he repeats the cycle, putting the pint back down on its water-ring, and watching the droplets race. He hoped the alcohol would kick in and serve the purpose he would constantly seek from it; to blur his judgement, deter himself from running his own mental investigations and stressing himself out. His heart couldn’t take much more.

He still delt with the burden of his childhood. All the conflicting emotions resided; the love and mourning for his mom, the betrayal and hatred for his dad. There wasn’t a single day that went by that he wondered when it would just go away, when he could be normal and just live his life without feeling the plethora of emotional baggage weighing down on his young yet weary shoulders. The only thing that lifted that weight temporarily was booze.

He scanned around the bar blankly. It was large, decorated in rustic driftwood and neon light aesthetic. The jukebox set to randomize, as A Picture of Me (Without You) by George Jones echoes off the walls and empty dance floor. An old drunk pair of men murmuring in soft conversation with each other on the opposite side of the bar.

It was the first sanctuary he could find after he’d stormed out of the studio, pissed off and annoyed trying to finish this new album. If he was completely honest, he was mostly agitated at the new bassist. He could lie and blame it on Jason’s constant need for direction, the way he played with a pick instead of his fingers, the list could go on if James tried hard enough. But the reality of his reasoning was, Jason wasn’t Cliff. It wasn’t a good reason, but anyone who’d lost their best friend would understand that pain. Cliff; a pure soul, the first to lend a helping hand, the last to serve judgement where it wasn’t needed. All of those qualities, gone.

Cliff, gone.

That persistent reminder poked and prodded at James’ brain and heart every time he played with the new guy, looked at the new guy, or even acknowledged the fact that the band had a new guy. He knew it wasn’t fair, he was aware it was fucked up. But he was drowning too deep in his own grief to mentally address that. Maybe one day he could apologize for his behavior, and genuinely mean it. But for now, he stuck to the only coping skills he’d picked up in life; music, drinking, and anger.

He downed the rest of his beer, signaling the bartender for a refill.

The old man drops his cloth, grabbing the empty glass and tilting it under the tap. James leans back in his chair again as he watches it refill, before shifting his gaze down the bar top, absentmindedly tapping his fingertips heavily against the wood.

The sound of the door opening interrupts the peace, as the daylight pours into the dark bar for a few seconds. He looks back and sees a girl saunter in. She looked close to his age, but her expression wielded an age much older, her eyes revealing her to be carrying a heavy burden. He turned back around, focusing on the now full pint that was slid toward him as he nodded to the bartender in thanks.

The young girl sits at the bar, a few stools adjacent from his. With his eyes hiding behind his hair, he was able to sneak a glance at her. She was slumped in her seat, bag discarded from her shoulder onto the dirty bar floor. He observed her as she adjusted the thin strap of her white sun dress and gathered her hair over to one side before propping her elbows on the bar and resting her chin between her hands.

As she dazed at the wood, similar to James a few moments ago, the old bartender walks up to where she sat.

“What can I get ya, darlin’?” He old man’s southern twang gruff, but welcoming.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and warm, like melted chocolate.

“Double shot of Jameson and a Seagrams, please.” She murmurs, sliding over a couple bills and her ID.

The old man glances down at the license and nods, wiping his hands with a towel before tossing it across his shoulder.

“You got it.” He gets to work on her order.

James averts his eyes back down, grabbing the full glass and raising it to his lips.

With the distraction of the girl across the bar, he was pulled from the twister in his conscience and into the calm after the storm, suddenly realizing how bored he truly was just slouching in the stool for nearly two hours. He tried to busy himself and fiddled with a small, wrinkled napkin — folding it, and creasing it.

In his peripheral, the bartender returns to her, sliding over the shot glass and a fruity wine cooler.

“Here ya go, if ya need an’thing, just holler.”

She thanks him silently. Without a second wasted, she grabs the small glass and downs the amber liquid, tilting her head back and swallowing with a mild cringe.

Subconsciously, he continues to watch as she pushes the tiny glass away and brings the bottle to her lips for a brief sip to chase away the awful burn. As she wipes the liquid from her top lip, her gaze flicks to his and he immediately blinks to look away, focusing back on the crinkled napkin.

He can feel her eyes burning a hole into his jam-packed skull.

The girl seemed to take instant interest in James from across the bar, hard to miss such a wild golden blonde head of hair. It was also hard to miss the energy that surrounded his space, like a heavy black cloud. His eyes told similar stories to her own; heavy baggage weighing down his eyelids, unless of course it could have been the alcohol. However, it was clear the guy was troubled, simply because she’d seen that look on many faces before. Witnessed it on the familiar face she’d seen in the mirror almost every day.

Before James could even see her move, she was settling on a stool a seat away from him, dropping her bag on the seat between them and her little pink wine cooler on the bar top.

He observed her, his brows knitted together as she settled nearly beside him, not acknowledging his presence. She took a gulp of her drink, putting it back down but holding it with both her hands.

Her voice smooth as fresh honey filled his ears.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

In ultimate shock and befuddlement, his head swiveled back to the young girl quickly, his face baring his reaction.

She looked at him almost like she knew him, like she’d seen him around before. There was a possibility she knew who he was, but judging by her outward appearance, he would never take her for a fan of Metallica. Or any metal for that matter.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, of course. But if he was a betting man, she’d most likely be jamming in her car to Peggy Lee, Bonnie Tyler, or maybe even Heart if she were to dabble in any rock genre.

He wondered how he’d even looked approachable. Most people said he’d had an intimidating demeanor, that’s also probably when he’d be around friends and had to put on that mask in order to hide his truest expression, the result of years of depression he never felt he could actually talk about. Maybe that’s the expression she was seeing?

James’ face softens and he shakes his head, grabbing his beer and muttering quietly.

“No thanks.” He takes a sip, looking ahead at nothing. Anything but her burrowing stare.

She hums in response, leaning back in her seat and holding the bottle close to her chest as she looks ahead with him. She remains silent for a few moments, before continuing.

“You know, psychology has proven bottled up emotions can only escalate before they disappear.”

She takes a sip of her drink.

James sighs. “Look, I’m not entirely in the mood to unload my baggage onto a stranger, much less talk at all. So please.”

He hates having to shut her down this way, but the thought of unraveling everything in his brain seemed too tedious to do. Especially with a stranger, somehow that just seemed even harder and made less sense.

She doesn’t back down though.

“See, but that’s just it. I’m a stranger. Who would I be to judge your issues, perhaps I’m just here to listen.”

She doesn’t seem to take a hint. James rubs his hand over his face and groans, but she doesn’t stop there.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to ‘unload your baggage’. Just the details that are bugging you, right now. Tell me what brought you here.”

She adds, taking a sip and looking at him with wide inquisitive eyes.

He rests his forearms on the edge of the bar and looks at her with bewilderment.

“Do you always just walk up to random people and push them to tell you their problems? It’s kinda rude.”

She shrugs, unfazed by his comment. “Only when they look like they really need it. Especially when they claim they don’t.”

He couldn’t comprehend the logic behind it, not completely. Maybe it was her boldness that he struggled to process. Normally the women he encountered were more reserved, only spoke to him when spoken to, waited their turn. This strange girl on the other hand not only initiated conversation, but quite literally jumped to the nitty-gritty. She was intriguing, but ultimately weird. In an inexplainable way, he was drawn to that. He felt anyone else probably would have been intimidated or freaked out, but in all honesty there was nothing inherently threatening about her.

He looks away from her again. “Well, I don’t. But thanks for the concern.” He concluded in attempts to end the conversation.

But of course, that wasn’t the end for her.

“Okay, okay…” She twirls the bottles bottom edge on the wood surface, for a few beats, the echo of a country song fills the silence.

“How about a dance?”

With his arms crossed his head twists to her, giving her a stunned grimace.

“A what?”

“A dance.” She repeats.

“With a complete stranger…?”

She only nods with an insistent smile on her face.

He shakes his head. “You aren’t right in the head lady.”

She snorts and mutters, “No need to remind me.”

He sighs, turning away from her again as she resumes the offer.

“One dance, what’s the worst that could happen?” She insists, taking a sip.

James scoffs, “I don’t know, you murder me?”

She nearly chokes on her wine cooler, wiping the spilled liquid from her face with her wrist.

“Do I honestly look like I’m capable of that? And if I was going to murder you, I’d at least make sure the bar was busier so it would be less obvious.”

He raises his eyebrows and nods, “You just confirmed you are more than capable.”

She rolls her eyes and props an elbow on the bar, “Oh, come on. I’m obviously not trying to murder you. I’m just in the mood for a little spontaneity and you look like you could use it too. You seem like a spur-of-the-moment kinda guy!”

“Spur-of-the-moment? Me?” He points his finger to his chest, baffled.

She nods again, “Mhm.” as she leans closer, her eyes plead, face resembling a kicked puppy as she resumes softly “Come on… one song. If you totally hate it, I’ll leave this bar, never to be seen again.”

Shaking his head, he huffs as he looks down in thought. She was incredibly persistent, but not aggressive. He’d be lying if he didn’t think she was cute, and as he’s mentally admitted, intriguing. Besides, sitting at the bar turned out to be incredibly uninteresting now that she was here. He also never realized how lonely he’d felt until she invaded his bubble of dwelling.

With a sigh of defeat, he reached for the pint and brought it to his lips, chugging down the rest of the brew in several gulps. He places the glass down with a thud, wipes his mouth with his sleeve and stands as he looks to her.

“One dance.” He finally agrees, as she stands with a smile and holds her hand out for him to take.

She guides him to the jukebox, slipping in a couple quarters and searches for a specific song.

James watches fixedly as she presses the arrow button, flipping through the guide with intent, almost as if she already had a song in mind.

“Ah! Here we go.” She presses in a number combination and turns to him. “Lead the way to the dance floor, good sir.” She says in a goofy English accent. He scoffs in amusement and takes her hand again, gently dragging her to the center of the floor. The opening instrumental of Take It to the Limit by the Eagles begins humming through the speakers surrounding the bar.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

All alone at the end of the evening,

And the bright lights have faded to blue,

I was thinkin’ ‘bout a woman

Who might have loved me

I never knew…

James takes her hand in his and hesitantly places his hand on her waist. She resists the urge to snicker at his stiffness and rests her free hand on his shoulder. They sway, the motion forced and awkward.

Stepping a little closer, she murmurs softly, “Just loosen up, pretend I’m someone you know…”

He sneers, “Pft, yeah, okay.”

A soft beguiled giggle escapes her as she smiles and adjusts her whole forearm on his upper back, shuffling a few inches little closer and laying her head against his shoulder.

You know I’ve always been a dreamer

spent my life runnin’ ‘round

And it’s so hard to change

Can’t seem to settle down

But the dreams I’ve seen lately

He struggled at the idea of her being able to feel his heart pounding in his chest, partially from bemusement, but also from the foreign feeling of physical contact so intimate. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d felt something similar to comfort like this. Her touch was almost angelic with how gentle she was. It was also hard to miss how heavenly she smelled with her head directly below his chin. He glanced down at her soft hair, brows knitted together in confusion at his predicament and how different he felt compared to what he’d expected. How does he process this feeling? It wasn’t feelings for her; no. It was ease, safe, warm.

Keep on burnin’ out and turnin’ out the same,

So put me on a highway,

And show me a sign,

And take it to the limit one more time

Slowly he begins to give in to the feeling; slackening his jaw and dropping his shoulders a little bit. She must have felt it, because she readjusted her head and arm slightly in response, seeming to get more comfortable against him. He teeters on the decision before carefully migrating his hand toward the middle of her lower back, lowering his face to hover over the top of her head, a sudden urge to be closer. He could feel his heart settle, slowing the thrums inside of him like turning off a running motor.

You can spend all your time making money

You can spend all your love making time

If it all fell to pieces tomorrow

Would you still be mine?

It was crazy wasn’t it? Who could he tell this to if he were to tell someone? The thought of explaining this story, accepting a dance with a complete stranger, it made him feel unhinged. He continuously wondered if this was just some dream. He may be buzzed, but his judgement of reality was better than to believe that. He could feel her; her smaller hand rested in his, the warm head leaned against his shoulder as her fingers wrapped onto it. To further convince himself it was all real, he’d decided to move his hand on her waist to feel the lacy fabric of her dress as it trailed to wrap his entire arm around her as he rested his cheek atop her hair to smell her sweet shampoo.

And when you’re looking for your freedom

Nobody seems to care

And you can’t find the door

Can’t find it anywhere

When there’s nothing to believe in

Now James could confirm he hadn’t felt this content in a while, at least not from a person. Music definitely helped, every time he performed with the guys was the only true moments he could free himself from the tribulations of his conscience. Her hold was like a hug he was too stubborn to ask for, but knew he’d genuinely needed. He would be too embarrassed to admit he needed any form of tender consolation to anyone who actually knew him; that’s just not what men do, they keep on keeping on until some type of saving grace comes along and makes it better. But with a stranger, apparently you don’t have to say anything.

Still you’re coming back

You’re running back

You’re coming back for more

So put me on a highway,

And show me a sign,

And take it to the limit one more time

As the songs continues to repeat the lyrics, he knows it’s coming to an end soon. So, he closes his eyes to savor the moment. Perhaps she was angel, heaven sent for him in his time of need. The only exception he’d make for believing in the higher power after his childhood.

He hadn’t the slightest clue if this was just a one-time thing, but just in case, he finally pushed his guard aside and let go of her hand, moving it to wrap his other arm around her upper back. It took her by surprise, feeling him melt in her hold, but she went with it and mirrored his actions and wrapped her arm around his torso. It had turned into a swaying hug between strangers, who genuinely needed it.

After a minute the song finally ended, fading out in reverse crescendo to silence. However, neither of them let go. Gently she lifts her head to peer up at him, causing him to return her relaxed gaze.

“Do you wanna stop?” She murmurs softly.

As another slow song plays through the speakers, he simply shakes his head, afraid that if he spoke, he’d choke up. She can see an emotion in his eyes, one he probably doesn’t understand, but he seemed content enough to continue holding her close.

She nods, smiling warmly at him. “Okay.” She whispers, gingerly placing her head back to his shoulder as they continue swaying to the music. The embrace between the two was sincere, a coziness they’d sought in each other’s presence.

After a few more songs, the girl needed to leave, bidding him goodbye with a few final words of wisdom. “All wars eventually end, but it won’t always be pretty. In the meantime, keep fighting, yet seek peace without hurting yourself.”

That night, James lay in his bed restless, thinking about the nameless girl who had made him feel okay for the first time in a while. Even if it was just for a few hours.

She had taken all the problems he never told her about and placed them on the back burner. Like it was nothing, like she just had to look into his eyes to see everything and understand.

It felt like finally taking a seat after running a marathon for most of his life. He eventually fell asleep to the lyrics playing on repeat in his head…

So put me on a highway

And show me a sign

And take it to the limit one more time.

[littleoanh]

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!/AFAB!Reader

Summary: Toji and Fem/AFAB Reader are friends with benefits but he hasn't contacted you in awhile and you decide it’s time to move on … or so you thought. 

Word Count: 2,375 Warnings: A bit of angst (Toji disappearing from reader), cursing, reader smacks Toji's chest, Toji’s shower scene, making out, reader receiving oral, Toji being a shameless bastard (but love this man lol), getting caught (maybe exhibition?), humiliation (possibly?), Toji threatening with a gun (not towards reader), little bit of daddy kink, reader was called a whore (not by Toji), mentions of penetration, and pet names (sweetheart and baby girl)

Tag: @mekiza for A Change of Pace Collab

A/N: I’m still on hiatus but I couldn’t pass up this collab and whipped this bad boy up. This is my first time writing for JJK (TT.TT). I hope you enjoy this piece!

Also special thanks to EB, @mekiza and @nanamis-wifey-reye for beta reading.

Bye bye *runs back to my safe place*! 

Like, reblogging, and kind comments are appreciated.

Today marks three months … three months since you last heard from Toji Fushiguro. Staring idly outside of your living room window with the view of your neighborhood park. Watching young children running around, parents chatting on the benches and people laughing as they are passing by. Time seems to stand still where you are. Stuck onto the past. Your mind brings up images of your moments with Toji. Waking up in his strong arms after having a wild night, his devilish smirk when he’s flirting or teasing you, and surprisingly he takes care of your needs … until three months ago.

Your phone starts to ring, eyes flickering from the window and heart is beating furiously in hopes it is him calling you. Your heart plummets once again, it is not Toji calling you. You answer your friend's phone call who asks you out for lunch. 

It’s time to move on, you accept their invitation and take one last look outside the window. You’re exhausted from constant heartaches, it’s time to stow away your lingering feelings for him. And it’s not like he will reciprocate those feelings … after all, you’re just his friends with benefits. Just someone he trusts to fuck around with.

Two weeks later, you went out on a few dates with a man you have been talking to from a dating app. He doesn’t bring butterflies to your stomach like Toji does but he’ll do for the time being. Tonight you decide to bring him back to your place.

“I hope you don’t mind the mess.” You politely warn him with a small smile, you’re not typically a messy person. However, since Toji’s absence, you haven’t had the motivation to take care of yourself. Until you decided to move on from him, you were coming around to clean up your place to make it more habitable. The few things you haven’t done yet were your dirty dishes, unmade bed and putting away your clean laundry.

“I’m sure the mess won’t bother me.” He chuckles softly, his mind is more focused on you than anything else. You pause on taking your keys out of your purse, the light from your living room is shining through the window. You clearly remember turning it off before leaving your place. “Is something wrong?” Your date is wondering why you haven’t opened your door yet.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You stick the key in the keyhole and turn it, you hear the click. Stepping through your front door, from a glance everything appears to be in place. Maybe I didn’t turn the light off, letting your guard down a little. You take off your shoes and your date does the same. “Would you like something to drink? I have some wine.” You slip into your cozy house slippers and begin to walk towards your kitchen. 

“Sure, I would love some.” You told him to make himself comfortable on the couch. Opening the fridge to pull out your favorite bottle of wine and approaching one of your cabinets to grab two wine glasses. Your eyes spot something out of place. Your sink. The dirty dishes you left in the sink are now clean and drying in the dish rack. 

“What the hell …?” There are chills on your back, someone has definitely been here. It can’t be an intruder or else your place would’ve been trashed. Or is this a stalker? But why would someone purposefully clean your dirty dishes if they are trying to be sneaky? Unless … Then you hear your showering running from your private bathroom. “Don’t tell me …”

“[L/n]? Is everything alright?” Your date calls out to you, he is a little worried you haven’t come back to him yet.

“Um, I’ll be right back. I need to go to my bedroom really quick!” Not bothering to wait for your date’s response, you rush into your room. Your king size bed is freshly made and your clean laundry has been put away. Is it really you? You turn the bathroom knob with your heart pounding hard against your chest and open the door. The warm steam caressing your face does not distract you from the familiar beautifully sculpted back muscles. Your eyes widen and this time your heart isn’t plummeting, Toji!

He runs his thick fingers through his mid length dark black hair, removing excess shampoo. He’s … really here, you are in disbelief how he shows up out of the blue and using your shower. His eyes open, then flicker his green orbs in your direction. Toji turns his body towards you, his scarred lips spread into his devilish smile. Oh how you love that smile.

“Are you coming in to join me? Or will I have to strip you naked?” His deep voice breaks the silence. “Miss me, sweetheart?” Tears begin to form on your lash line, how dare he waltz in here and pretend everything is normal. He turns off the water, walking out of the steamy shower and baring his godlike body. Each step he takes to get closer to you throws your senses all over the place. Your ears are ringing, your breathing is a little unsteady, and your pussy is starting to get wet. His large rough hand cups your cheek and uses his thumb to wipe the fallen teardrop. “That much of a mess without me, aren’t ya?” He playfully teases you.

It fills him with pride when he saw the mess you left behind, you need him. 

“You are such an asshole!’ You form a fist and start hitting Toji’s perfectly muscular wet chest. He stares down at you, not feeling any pain from your cute smacks. He was expecting you to be happy to see him but maybe you’ll calm down after letting out your frustrations. “You disappeared without a word and now you think it’s okay for you to make yourself at home-!”

“[L/n]? Are you on the phone?” Your date is waiting outside of your closed bedroom door. Oh shit, you forgot he is still here and didn’t bother to hold back your anger. 

“Who is that?” Toji’s smirk falls when he hears another man’s voice in your place. 

“Yes, I’m on the phone! I’ll be right out when I’m done!” You blatantly ignore Toji’s question, he frowns when you disregard him. Looking back at his grumpy face, deciding how to handle this situation. “Get dressed and stay quiet.” His face deadpans, you really think he’s going to stay quiet while you’re going to talk to some loser? 

Thinking of an excuse to have your date to leave without him being suspicious. You are about to reach the bedroom door knob until you are lifted off the ground. What the? Toji easily manhandles you and throws you on your memory foam bed. You glare at this still naked man and try to be mindful of your volume. “What the hell, Toji-?” 

Toji leans over to grip your face with one hand, your mouth slightly ajar and he sticks his tongue down your throat. He passionately and aggressively kisses you, oh god no … You are melting into the bed, you can’t stay mad at him if he kisses you like this. His naked wet body hovers over yours, water dripping onto your pretty dress. Toji’s thick fingers intertwined with yours and his throbbing horsecock pressing against your thigh. Fuck, he’s so big … the wet sounds of your tongues dancing and the little moans escaping from your lips is enough to make your pussy even more wet. Spreading your legs more, he rubs his horsecock against your stained panties up and down.

Your legs twitch with anticipation, knowing how good he will feel once he puts his cock inside your gummy walls. “Mmm, Toji ~” Quietly moaning his name, forgetting how angry you were with him. He chuckles how submissive you are just by kissing and he ferals over it. He needs to taste you more. Laying between your spreaded legs, he practically smells your alluring arousal. And fuck, it makes his mouth waters. Your stained panties inflated his already big ego. That’s right, only HE can bring you pleasure. You gasp when you feel the pressure of his fingers touching the fabric, rubbing up and down to tease you. Quietly whimpering for him to relieve your ache, he easily rips your panties in half. 

He flatten his tongue to lick from your soaking entrance up to your throbbing clit. Fuck, does your pussy juices taste as sweet as honey. He gathers saliva and spits into your cunt, slurping between your folds. His spit and your pussy juices are soaking his scarred lips and dripping onto his chin. He is in pussy heaven. Another quiet moan escapes from your drooling lips and bucking your hips against his face. 

“No need to keep quiet. Let out those cute sounds for me.” His tongue dove into your pussy like a starved man who hasn’t eaten a hearty meal in weeks. His green eyes look up to watch your tits bouncing up and down, panting like you’re in heat. Your pupils appear as though they’re heart shaped. Toji sucks on your aching clit and you whip your hand to cover your mouth to prevent screaming. 

Oh no, I can’t scream … my date! You almost completely forgotten he is right by the door. Trying to squirm away from Toji, his bulging arms wrap around your thighs to restrict your movement. Ughhh fuckkk … tears are dripping down your flushed face when he shakes his head and grunts inside your wet cunt.

“[L/n]?”

Toji sloppily licks your drenched pussy, swirling his tongue between your folds and sucks on your sensitive clit hard. “MMMM!” You need to use both hands to muffle your scream, you are getting close to orgasming.

“[L/n]? You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Toji relentlessly biting and sucking alternately between your folds and clit. “S’close, s’close, s’close!” You are a blabbering mess, barely registering what your date is saying outside of your bedroom door. Too focused on achieving your needed orgasm.

Toji glances at your doorway, his pride is quickly inflated and wants nothing more than to piss off whoever is out there. He pulls away from your juicy cunt, his scarred lips are swollen and his chin is moist.

You are confused why he suddenly stops when you are getting so close. He repositions your body, your head is facing the doorway and you gasp in surprise when he rolls your legs over your shoulders. Your dress flips downwards, exposing your ripped panties and pussy in the air. “Wha-what are you doing?” Feeling embarrassed in this lecherous position. 

His devilish smirk split on his scarred lips, “Giving you a mindblowing orgasm like you deserve.” That’s when you completely lost it, you couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. Your hands are gripping onto the bedsheets as Toji sloppily tongue fucks your hole and rubbing your bundle of nerves.

“[L/n], I’m coming in!” Your pornographic moan and squelching sounds of your cunt prevents you from hearing your bedroom door opening. Your eyes are rolling back and your gummy walls are squeezing Toji’s tongue as you finally achieve your amazing climax. “Wha-what the hell is this?!” Toji stares down the angry small man while continuing to shamelessly eat your pussy to taunt him. 

Finally coming back down from your high, blood rushing towards your cheeks, mortified for him to find you in an indecent position. Oh my god, I can’t believe he is seeing me like this! Trying your best to move your legs back down to cover yourself however Toji doesn’t budge. Toji! You smack his forearm for him to let go but he does nothing except for blatantly licking your sopping hole .

“Who the hell is this?!” Your date angrily yells at you with reddened cheeks. Feeling too flustered to answer him, Toji removes his tongue from your twitching pussy and glares at him.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Your eyes widen, why is he claiming to be yours? Aren’t you two just friends with benefits? “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Her boyfriend?” The small man scoffs in disbelief, “Well, I’m your girlfriend’s date.” 

“Oh really?” A mocking smile appears on Toji’s face, “Thanks for keeping her company. She gets worried when I’m not around. Now, get out while I’m still in a good mood.”

“Tch.” The small man clicks his tongue in annoyance and about to head out, “Whatever. Have fun dealing with your whore of a girlfriend-” He freezes his step when he sees Toji whipping out a gun out of nowhere. His eyes widened in fear, there was anger in Toji’s green eyes.

“Don’t. Ever. Call. My. Girl. That.” Toji warns the small man and he nods quickly. “Now tell her to have a goodnight and to have a good time.” He taunts the small man with the gun, but he seems hesitant to say it. “Say it.”

“Good-goodnight, [L/n]. Have-have a good time with your boyfriend.”

“Good boy.” Toji sarcastically praises him, “Lose her number and I never want to see your face here ever again.” He narrows his eyes, “You’ll know what happens if I do.” The small man immediately understood and quickly left the premises.

“Toji …” There is a worried tone in your voice, he promptly moves the gun away and drops it on the floor. He knows how guns make you uncomfortable.

“Sorry, baby girl. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He kisses your cheeks to comfort and assure you it’s gone. “Daddy wants to make ya feel good again but …” There is a glint of dominance in his green eyes, “you went out with some punk ass loser. Gonna have to punish ya for that.” 

“Wait but that’s not fair-!” You gasp as his bulbous tip interrupts you by stretching your tight pussy. He grunted as he penetrated his cock into your warm gummy walls.

“Hold onto daddy. Cause I ain’t gonna go easy on ya.” Toji punishes you for the rest of the night, making sure you understand that you will always be his and that you will never run into some other loser’s arms again. 

[End]

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[dr3mvaalmar]

Showers of Sentiments | Kinktober Day 6

Pairing: Asra x Gn! Reader

Prompt: First Kiss (sfw)

Summary: Asra and the reader spend the day inside the shop on a rainy day.

Warnings/Tags: none that I know of

Author's Note: I didn't have time to edit and go through this thoroughly because of work and lack of sleep. It might sound a bit robotic. Thank you for your patience.

My eyes peered to the skies, a veil of pregnant clouds overcast above. Peering back down towards Asra, he seemed none the wiser to the looming storm. We were walking in the market after a midday excursion. Our feet hit the cobblestones as we strolled to various stalls and attractions. Today was the weekly bazaar, where new tents and goodies were spread across in succession—the colorful array of fabrics billowed in the growing wind. The shouting of merchants and customers resonated across the entire street, a cacophony of voices melding into one. Various stalls had everything from fruit and vegetables to crafts and necessities. It was hectic in the market. The lively crowd was so dense I could hardly see in front of me.

Asra turned towards me, a fleeting glance to ensure I was steadily behind him. He didn’t dare leave me behind, but it was certainly hard to keep up. He weaved through the crowd with graceful agility I couldn’t compare with. Seeing my newfound struggle as people entrapped me between them, Asra took my hand in his. It was gentle, yet I trusted him not to let go.

“It’s about to rain,” I shouted towards Asra. He didn’t seem to notice the first time, so I repeated it. He gazed upwards. The clouds were now upon us. Asra’s nose scrunched up as a droplet plummeted onto his face. “We should go back to the shop.”

“I was hoping we could pick up some mandrake root before we go,” Asra said, his lips puckering in disappointment. I squeezed his hand tighter just as the rain started to pour on the two of us. “Well, it can wait for another day. How about we have a little fun, (Y/n)? It’s not often there’s rain this time of year.”

My lips curled upward, which only encouraged him further. He took my hand, guiding me through the crowd. By now, everyone was getting soaked as the rain increased in vigor. It was much easier to maneuver by now.

Asra took me to an alley nearby before undoing the straps of his shoes. I could only watch miraculously as he set the shoes aside. Asra looked up from his crouched position, beckoning me to do the same. Reluctantly, I followed suit.

“Isn’t this exciting? I can’t remember the last time I felt rain like this,” Asra said, his arms spreading out from beside him. He twisted and hopped in the puddles, never minding the mud he was stepping on. Asra took me along as we reveled in the coolness of the downpour. I paused to close my eyes, enjoying the trickling of water and the giggles of Asra before me. The smell of petrichor was heavy in the air. Even though the rain was cold this time of year, it felt like a blanket across me. Water cascaded across my exposed flesh, dripping onto the ground below.

Asra’s shoulder brushed against mine as he returned to my side. His eyes were filled with wonder as we enjoyed the scene before us. Houses were dripping with water, the pitter-patter making music along the cobblestone. The sky was dark, and the sun was long obscured. 

At that moment, I couldn’t help but admire Asra. The way the rain soaked into his white curls, dripping onto his long lashes. His face was slick and glimmered in the dimness of the storm. His clothes clung to his form, leaving little to the imagination. The way he stomped around like a child was so endearing. When Asra drew near again, I leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth against my cold skin. Yet, I felt a hole in my heart. Something was missing.

I grabbed both of his hands, bringing them up to my face. I didn’t heed his flustered expression as I laid his fingers across my skin. They were wet but comforting. I nudged into them, inciting a delicate sound to escape from Asra’s throat. I giggled.

“Maybe we should go to the shop,” Asra said, turning away. “You’ll catch a cold if we stay out here too long.”

“What about the fun?” I asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. His golden skin was gorgeous under the reflection of the rain.

“It wouldn’t be any fun if you got sick, now would it?”

We both returned to the shop, soaking wet from the torrent of rain. The sky was getting darker by the moment. Lightning would pierce the clouds, and a bang of thunder would resume. It was getting more unruly by the moment, but Asra was able to shield us with a magic barrier above us.

When we opened the doors, the shop seemed so inviting. The aroma of the potion ingredients brewing in the kitchen hit my senses. It was intense, almost overpowering. Asra used a spell to disperse the heat throughout the house, warding off the chill of the raging storm outside. Thunder shook the house with every strike of lightning. As Asra prepared, I went to our shared bedroom, stripping my wet clothes.

“(Y/n), what kind of bakhoor do want?” Asra said, calling my attention. I turned towards the closed door, sensing his presence on the other side. “I’m also preparing tea in the other room.”

I told him my preference before he scurried off. We collected some perfumed wood chips from a traveling merchant. It complimented the house and our clothes with a flourish of enticing fragrances. I chuckled to myself before putting on some warm night clothes. I hung my old garments to dry before I would clean them tomorrow.

I entered the room to find Asra curled on the floor in a pile of blankets and pillows. He must’ve changed already, as his attire was dry and very gaudy compared to his usual garments. The bakhoor smoke wafted around him, inviting coziness and leisure. Beside him was a pot of boiling water, sustained purely on a small brazier. He invited me in with a smile.

I walked towards the window, peering through the curtains to see rain spilling down the side of the shop. It didn’t look like it'd die down anytime soon. The droplets seemed to dance wickedly across the windowpane. I walked back to Asra as he patted the spot next to him. 

“What tea did you make for us?” I asked as Asra started pouring the cup. He waved his hand, clearing the steam away from my face. I eagerly peered into the amber liquid as it gyrated with each subtle movement.

“Today it’s elderflower and echinacea,” Asra affirmed. I leaned over to savor the smell. It was very floral and soft with slightly fruity notes. I took the cup in my hand, the heat radiating into my fingers. Tentatively, I took a sip. 

“It’s hot, but I—” I said before scrunching my nose. In one fluid motion, I sneezed, tossing the liquid in my hand. Asra had strong reflexes to stabilize the cup, but it wasn't near enough to protect me. The hot liquid tipped over the edge, spilling onto my lap. I jerked but tried to stay calm in front of him. Asra looked pitifully at me as he set my drink aside.

“Ah, (Y/n)!” Asra said, frantically finding a rag to soak up the tea. “I knew you would get sick. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you out in the rain.”

I only giggled, the initial heat subsiding. I dabbed at my clothes, paying no mind after a moment. I laid a hand on Asra’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t apologize,” I assured, his eyes dull and half-blinking. “I enjoyed our time together.

Asra seemed aloof, refusing to look me in the eyes. However, I knew no matter how much I reassured him, he would still feel guilty. It wasn’t even his fault. I wouldn’t even get sick this quickly.

“Can I make it up to you?” Asra asked, hands folded together. “I have a remedy that may help.”

I nodded enthusiastically. Anything to make him feel better. He got up from his criss-crossed position. He disappeared briefly before reappearing with a bottle of viscous liquid and some wool socks. I arched a brow.

“Lie down, (Y/n),” Asra instructed with a tender smile. I did as I was told, lying on the nest of fabrics below. Asra seemed determined as he grasped my right leg. 

“What are you doing?” I asked as he poured oil over his hand. He looked up from his task.

“There’s a tradition,” Asra began, “that taking care of someone’s feet is seen as a deep act of respect and care. The feet, after all, carry all of our burdens. They are deeply connected to the body.”

Asra rubbed my feet with gentle pressure. His hands glided gracefully along the skin from my ankles to my heels, to the pads of my feet, all the way to my toes. I giggled, his touch tickling with every movement. The sensation of the oil on my skin was slightly uncomfortable, but his love and devotion put me at ease. I felt a pressure lift from my shoulders as he finished his massage. He glanced at me curiously as he put on the socks for me.

“Thank you, master,” I said, descending into the blankets. “Why don’t you join me?”

Asra didn’t need to say anything as he enveloped himself in the blankets. His body was so close that I could see every detail. Everything about him brought peace to my mind. Yet, I felt a slight longing for more…

We both lay on our sides, face to face. It was awkward for a moment. Asra’s breathing was faint, and he closed his eyes as if about to fall asleep. I lifted my hand, letting it brush the hair from his face.

Asra seemed so serene. So calm. His gentle breathing was enough to tempt me to sleep. However, not just yet.

“Master,” I called as he let out a disgruntled moan. I gently ran my finger along his skin, causing his eyes to flutter open slowly. “Do you mind coming closer? I’m cold.”

Asra mumbled out a sleepy response that I didn’t quite hear. His arms caressed my side before tugging me into an embrace. His cheek rests delicately against mine. I felt every vibration from his voice as he said, “Is this okay?”

I hummed in agreement, my body sinking into my surroundings. It felt like I could stay here for eternity, forever bound by the comfort of Asra’s body. His touch was softer than anything I could ever experience. I spent a few moments in bliss.

“Master, are you awake?” I asked, feeling shame in waking him again. However, each time, he was patient with me. Asra never raised his voice or caused a commotion. He was always attentive to my wants and needs. “Can I kiss you?”

Asra chuckled, dropping a limp arm around my waist, “Don’t be silly.”

Putting on a brave front, I took his head into my hands. Asra’s eyes immediately darted open, disbelief ridden all across his face. I leaned forward, letting my lips graze his forehead. One gentle peck of a brief kiss, and I was satisfied. The sinking pit in my chest drifted away.

“You really make it hard to sleep when you do that,” Asra whispered bashfully. “Kiss me more, but do it right.”

I giggled as Asra beckoned me with his violet eyes. My lips opened slightly, but I hesitated, his sweet face disintegrating every ounce of confidence I had left. He looked very pleased with himself every second that passed by. Asra inched closer as if coiling for a strike. As his lips paused before me, I breathed in his scent, letting it consume me entirely. I closed my eyes, letting his lips clash with mine. It felt soft and tender, beyond anything I could’ve imagined. As Asra pushed against me, I felt the ties of our bond tighten. 

Asra peeled away, but his entire body seemed to motion for more. As we comprehended what just happened, time seemed to still until it was just the two of us. Nothing else mattered but us.

“Not bad for a first,” Asra chuckled, focusing solely on my lips. “How about we try this again?”

Our lips entwined as one, moving in waves of passion and zest. Asra’s motions became bolder and hungrier, the sounds of our kisses reverberating off the walls. 

“More,” Asra would say. “More.”

We spent the time entangled in the midst of endearment, kissing until the taste of Asra was fixed on my lips. My mouth tingled, urging me for more. Yet, I knew time was dwindling, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep with Asra with the muffled song of the rain.

Asra wrapped the blanket around us. His warmth cradled me and soothed every inkling of sickness that I could’ve possibly had. His presence was my panacea. 

“Good night, my soul’s delight,” Asra whispered, planting a final kiss on my lips. I melted into him, allowing my eyes to become heavier. As my mind flittered into sleep, I heard him utter one final phrase…

“I love you.”

[tinyarmedtrex]

This is the way that we love, like it's forever

First of the prompts completed! This is from @cadburyoreo and they asked for “I tried, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore.” It's a bit long so you can read below or here on AO3.

"Hello there, Mr.-" He glanced down at his clipboard. "Spring, was it?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Lovely." He flashed Charlie a warm smile before closing the door behind him. The simple gesture made Charlie's heart catch in his chest. Then the next words sent it plummeting.

"It's nice to meet you." The love of Charlie's life said, the warm smile still plastered on his face. "Tell me what brings you in today." 

For a moment all Charlie could do was gape at the man in front of him. It was really him. It was Nick, the man who had once been Charlie's-

Everything. He'd been Charlie's everything. 

And now he was staring at Charlie as if he was a stranger. Which, to Nick he was. To Nick, this was the first time they were meeting, and Charlie's silence was likely making a poor first impression.

"My cat. He's been acting odd." Charlie pointed to the carrier which contained the unhappy feline. He'd been upset since Charlie had explained the plan, insisting there was a more dignified way to see Nick. Charlie had had to put his foot down. Nick was a veterinarian, Charlie had to bring some sort of animal. 

"And what is your cat's name?"

"Èze ." He watched Nick's face carefully, hoping for a flicker of recognition, anything to indicate that the name meant something to him. 

For the briefest second Nick's eyes widened but then his face went back to neutral as he nodded. "Unusual name for a cat."

"He's named after a place that meant a lot to me." 

Nick nodded again. Charlie thought that for a moment he looked wistful, almost caught in a memory, but it may have only been wishful thinking. He'd known when he came that it was a long shot, that in all likelihood Nick wouldn't remember him, but he'd had to try.

But it seemed that the spell was holding strong. In any other scenario Charlie would have been proud. It was one of the trickiest spells out there, meant to pluck out certain memories but leave everything else intact. It often didn't work. One wrong move and the person could lose a core memory, something that made them a unique person. 

Charlie had known that when he cast it, but he'd also known he had no other choice. He'd taken it slow, looking at each of Nick's individual memories and removing himself from them. It had taken hours and tears had stained his cheeks the entire time, but it had worked. He'd erased himself and kept all of Nick's other memories whole, a true example of his strength as a magic welder. If only he could bring himself to care. 

He couldn't stop staring at Nick, cataloging all the little things that had changed since the last time they'd been together. His hair was a bit longer, the blond edges brushing his collar, and he had a few more laugh lines. But everything else was the same. His face still held a nearly permanent smile, his eyes still swept the room and caught important details. He was still Nick, the love of Charlie's life. 

They had been boyfriends, though that term didn't feel big enough to encompass what they truly were. Lovers, life partners. Two people who wove their lives togethers, threaded them in such a way it was impossible to separate. In the years they were together they never spent more than a night apart, neither could sleep without the other beside them. 

Until.

Until everything crashed down around them. Until Ben found him and made his life a living hell. Again. 

Charlie had been out alone, at a bar waiting for his friends to arrive, when someone had slid into the stool beside him. Charlie had ignored the newcomer until they'd leaned in and whispered in his ear. A simple hello but it sent chills down his spine. Charlie had whipped around to see Ben sitting there, a wicked grin on his face. 

Ben had been his first lover. He'd haunted Charlie's dreams for years, waiting in the corners of his nightmares. Even now, Ben was the reason Charlie triple locked the door at night. 

Some out there wondered if the boogeyman was a myth but Charlie had never had to wonder. He was real and he'd shared Charlie's bed. 

They'd met at a party during uni. Ben had found him as he watched from the outskirts and had drawn him in, making him feel special. It hadn't taken Charlie long to fall for him, thinking that all of Ben's praise was real. 

Ben had been the one to train Charlie in his magic. He'd taught him how to cast spells, how to amplify them using tokens or emotions and even how to craft new ones. It hadn't taken either of them long to realize that Charlie was the more powerful of the two. He'd expected Ben to be upset about it. After all, he'd been brought up in this life and Charlie was only now discovering his powers, but instead he'd been thrilled. It had taken Charlie far too long to realize why.

Ben had used Charlie's power for himself. It had started small, with Ben asking him to fetch something from the other room with magic or maybe convince the barista to give him a free scone. But the requests had grown and soon Ben was asking him for more than he was willing to do. 

He still did it though, every time. Ben had a way of convincing Charlie, either through praise or fear, to do exactly what he wanted.

Until the day he'd ordered Charlie to kill someone. It was over something small, a gambling debt, and when Charlie had balked at its Ben had grown angry, yelling and throwing things at Charlie until he was cowering in the corner and promising to do what Ben wanted. 

Charlie had left that night. After casting a sleeping spell on Ben he'd slipped out of their flat and, taking only what he could carry in a backpack, disappeared. He spent a month on the road, always watching over his shoulder, expecting to see Ben at any moment. Eventually he'd ended up in a small town in France and decided to stay there. It was meant to only be a temporary stop but during his first week he'd been in a cafe, attempting to use his poor French to order a coffee when someone had ordered for him in perfect French. He'd turned around to see the most gorgeous man he'd ever laid eyes on, and he was smiling warmly at Charlie, making him momentarily consider dropping his walls and running headfirst into a new relationship.

Charlie had come to his senses before voicing any of that. He'd insisted on paying for his drink and had gone to a small table to enjoy it, alone.

But it kept happening. Every day, Charlie would return to the cafe and the man would be there. Charlie soon learned his name was Nick and that he was even more amazing than Charlie had first thought. The two talked every day, sometimes about small things and other times about their hopes and dreams. It continued for months, well past Charlie's intended stay. He couldn't let himself take the next step, his heart was still healing from Ben, but he also couldn't bring himself to leave. 

Then one day Charlie mentioned wanting to visit a bookstore that was in the next town over, but he didn't have a car. Nick had hesitated for a moment then offered to drive him. They never made it to the bookstore; the combination of the beach and Nick's lips had been too enticing.

For a while, Charlie had considered that day as the start of them. Except that it wasn't. All those months before had been the start, where Nick hadn't pushed, had just let Charlie come to him when he was ready. 

Much like a cat.

"Tell me what's wrong with Èze." Nick asked as he examined the fluffy gray cat. 

"He's not eating. And he seems- lethargic." He watched as Nick's large hands prodded the animal, momentarily losing himself as he thought about all the ways those hands had touched him. Everything from holding hands as they walked to kissing his knuckles to them pressing deep inside him. 

Charlie had to look away as his cheeks flared. Thankfully Nick didn't seem to notice. His full attention was on Eze, who was glaring at Charlie, clearly upset about the indignity he was being subjected to. Charlie was sure to get an earful on their ride home. 

"Are you new to the area?"

The question snapped him back to reality. When he looked up, he saw that Nick was already watching him, his head tilted in a way that Charlie recognized. It was Nick's way of trying not to let on exactly how interested he was. Charlie had seen it often in the early days of their relationship, when Nick was trying to get to know him but also desperately trying not to scare him away. The familiar gesture made his heart leap. 

"Why?" Hope flared in his chest. Was there something, buried deep down, that made him remember Charlie?

"Haven't seen you before." 

He tried not to physically deflate. "Oh I'm-" What was he doing? When he'd made the appointment, he'd told himself not to expect too much. 

In the time since casting the spell Charlie had learned everything, he could about it. And what he'd learned had nearly broken his heart all over again. Correctly cast, it was nearly impossible to break. The only way was if the castee wanted it broken. They had to want it broken so badly that the spell had no choice but to snap, undoing all the magic and flooding the person with their memories. It was an extraordinarily rare occurrence and some doubted that it was even possible. 

Charlie had thought, foolishly, that seeing him again would make the spell break. That maybe some part of Nick still remembered Charlie and that it would be enough. But that didn't seem to be the case. Perhaps their love wasn't as grand as he'd thought. 

"Just passing though." He finished lamely. Nick's expression flickered to disappointment before he focused on the cat again. 

"What brings you here? It's not exactly a tourist town." 

That was true. He had sent Nick somewhere that he would be safe. A sleepy little village in Wales. Nick's accent likely stood out, but he doubted that anyone would call the press about it. 

He could still remember their last night together like it was yesterday. After finding him at the bar Ben had made it clear what he expected. Charlie would come back to London with him and do whatever Ben wanted or else. The 'else' being Nick.  Ben had laid out in excruciating detail what he would do to Nick if Charlie had said no. Then he told Charlie he had until the morning to decide. 

Charlie had run back to their flat, barely managing to control his emotions before throwing open the door. Nick was surprised, he'd expected Charlie to be out with friends all night, but hadn't asked too many questions, instead allowing Charlie to distract him with kisses. That night they'd made love for the last time, not that Nick knew that. 

Once Nick was sound asleep Charlie had found the spell and begun casting it. As much as he hated it, he knew it was the only way to keep Nick safe. If he told Nick about the situation he'd offer to help, he'd put himself in harm's way to protect Charlie and Charlie couldn't let him do that. No matter how amazing he was, he was only human. When Nick learned about Charlie's magic, he'd expected him to react like most humans did, either fear or greed, but Nick had only been in awe of it.  And then, to Charlie's further astonishment, Nick never once asked him to use it, not even to warm his tea. In all the time they were together Nick had never asked Charlie for anything he wasn't willing to give. No one in his life had ever wanted Charlie for Charlie. 

So, he'd known then what he had to do. He had to remove himself from Nick's mind completely. He could leave no traces of himself.  All the memories would be under lock and key, safely tucked away. It was his only option. Anything less and Charlie knew that Nick would find him, that he would try to help. And Charlie couldn't let that happen. The only way to save Nick was to erase himself from his life, his head and his heart. Then once Nick was safe could Charlie deal with Ben. 

"A- friend." Charlie managed to stutter out. 

"Just a friend?" 

He nodded, unsure if Nick was asking what Charlie thought he was. "But they aren't really interested in showing me around, if you know someone who is." It was a bold thing to say but Charlie had to try. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't. 

"Maybe we could-" Nick started then stopped as if thinking better of it. 

"Your partner could come too." He offered, hating himself but needing to know. 

Nick shook his head. "No partner, it's just me and my dogs." 

"Me either." Charlie said quietly. Nick's eyes met his and it took all his self-control not to throw himself into Nick's strong arms and kiss him until neither could breathe. 

Nick opened then closed his mouth, shaking his head. "I don't usually see patients outside of work."

"Well, I promise to leave Èze at home." He said, attempting a joke. His mouth was dry. Charlie was trying to navigate this as slowly as possible, not wanting to scare Nick off but also desperate to spend more time together. 

Nick flashed him a half smile. Then he straightened, petting Èze as he spoke. "I think your cat is a bad traveler. He might be a little dehydrated, but I don't think there's anything a little wet food and cuddles can't fix."  

Whatever moment they'd had had passed. Charlie nodded as best he could even though he could practically feel his heart shattering in his chest. 

"Oh. Good. That's good." 

Their hands touched as both moved to pick up the cat. Charlie could have sobbed as he saw a few leaves appear then gently float to the ground. For his part, Nick was staring at his hand as if he'd been burned. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, taking a half step closer. 

Nick backed away from him, shaking his head. "I- I- need to go." He seemed completely shaken. "The front desk will help check you out." 

Then Nick left. It seemed like he couldn't get out of the room fast enough. He nearly tripped trying to escape.  

Charlie stared at the door, his heart pounding. When he had cast the spell, he'd known the repercussions. He hadn't planned to ever see Nick again, truly. He wanted the man to have a good life, on his own. He wanted him to fall in love again, to raise a family. 

But then Charlie had seen a video that Nick had posted. He did occasional ones for the clinic and this one was how to trim a rabbit's nails. Charlie had watched all of them more times than he cared to count. He'd kept tabs on Nick, needing to know that he was safe, but swearing to never seek him out.  

There were so many hints of Nick still in his life. He still slept on his side of the bed, using pillows in place of Nick's warm form. Whenever he heard a dog bark his head would snap over, wondering if it was Nick. Hell, he even followed Nick's favorite rugby team, celebrating their wins and losses, just so he would have some connection to the man. 

In the video Nick had picked up the rabbit then, keeping up a light banter had begun his intro. "I'm Nick Nelson and today I'm here with-" He stopped abruptly as he read the name.

"Nick?" Someone off screen had called.

"Maddox. The rabbit's name is Maddox." Nick was still staring down at the little name card and Charlie had sworn there were tears in his eyes.

He'd been on his feet and packing before he even realized it. When Èze asked why Charlie had hesitated to explain.

"I know it doesn't sound like much but-" He glanced at his laptop screen; the image of Nick's shocked expression still frozen on it. "Jack Maddox was my celebrity crush. Nick used to give me endless crap for it." He threw another shirt in a bag. "And if he remembers that then he might remember me."

He knew the chance was small. It had been nearly a year with no other indications, but it was a chance he had to take. 

So he'd booked a train and made the vet appointment, all on the misguided hope that Nick remembered him. 

But he'd been wrong. In the end, Nick couldn't get away from him fast enough. 

"Don't say it." He told the cat, packing him up before going to the front desk. After paying the appointment fee he went outside to his rental car. He wasn't sure what to do now. For so much of his life he'd had a clear plan. First it was whatever Ben told him to do. Then it was staying hidden from the man. Then it was keeping Nick safe and ending Ben. After that, once he'd made sure Ben would never hurt anyone else, he'd been lost, wandering the earth. Seeing that video had given him a new purpose. Maybe that was why he'd done it. It wasn't for Nick; it was for himself.

He turned to look at the clinic, which had a mural of playful puppies and kittens painted on the wall. “I tried Nick, I really did but I just couldn't stay away from you anymore.” The words came out choked, a sob rising up. "But I will now. We'll live the rest of our lives but not together." Saying the words made his heart break all over again but he knew he had to say them out loud. There was power in speech. The universe would hear and make him keep his promise. 

He'd just strapped Eze in when he heard someone calling his name. "Mr. Spring! Wait!" He turned to see Nick, still in his white lab coat, running towards him. Charlie gaped at him, refusing to get his hopes up for what it may mean. 

"Nick? Er- Doctor Nelson?" 

"This is so unprofessional." Nick said, stopping in front of him. He seemed as shocked as Charlie was to be standing there. 

"What is?" The words were a whisper, a hope he barely dared to voice. 

"I couldn't let you leave without giving you my - my number." He fished out a card with a number written on it in blue pen. 

Wordlessly Charlie accepted the paper and their fingers brushed again. There were the leaves again. They'd met in autumn, fallen in love to the changing colors. Nick would always be leaves to him. 

This should have been enough. Charlie should have been thrilled that Nick wanted to start something new. He should let go of the old. 

But he couldn't. He couldn't do it all over again. So, he did something reckless. He grabbed Nick and kissed him squarely on the lips. 

Nick didn't kiss him back. 

Horrified, Charlie started to pull back, already forming an apology. But before he could speak Nick gave a small head shake then grabbed Charlie's face and kissed him fiercely. Nick was the only one who had ever kissed Charlie like this, so he felt it all the way down to his toes. He kissed Nick back, pouring everything he could into it, hoping that it would say what words alone couldn't. 

When they pulled back, he barely dared to breath as he scanned Nick's face for any hint of recognition. 

But Nick only looked bewildered. His heart sank, through his shoes, through the pavement. Charlie was already thinking about buying a train ticket, leaving Nick alone for good this time. He couldn't do this anymore, couldn't hold false hope in his heart for another day. 

Before he could voice any of that though Nick spoke, his expression shifted as he looked at Charlie as if seeing him for the first time. 

"Charlie? Is it really you?" 

[thatdeadaquarius]

Imagine everyone in genshin could physically see when you lag. Collecting some sunsettia then my ping sky rockets to 999 and im frozen for a good minute in the middle of doing an attack 😭

SOB bro ive gotten caught in some DOWNRIGHT SILLY lags before- i would pass away if they saw that

Esp since i get them stuck then just start laughing my ass off 💀

This gif took me out this is so funny 😭 i had to put it here LMAO

I accidentally made Venti jump on top of a Aranara house when I was first exploring Sumeru and did that "flying in the air/jumpin down pose" but just. Through a palm leaf, he's just fluttering in the wind it was painfully ironic 😭

BRO

BRO

Bro.

What if u were isekaied to Genshin but it still has game rules, and so now ur like a character too,

SO U CAN ALSO LAGGGG STOPPP 😭😭😭

I would constantly be omw to the Backrooms 💀

Glitching thru magic shit bc im inpatient and wanna hurry (lagged myself thru some domain steps once)

OH MY GOD-

IF THEYRE AWARE

OF EVEN JUST YOU LAGGING THEIR BODIES

DUDE 😭

So this is unrelated to lag shit, but Ive just done so much silly ass things in game that they would find just as funny or dumb 💀

♤

So, When i first started Genshin I was on some Shit.

I had only rlly played one or two open world games before, and even then not for a long time, so I just like did the stupidest things

I was fighting in those early domains in Mondstadt right, and I had just gotten to the cutscene with Lisa and Traveler, I think thats all who were there

And I had just finished the last battle in the chamber, so I had just deployed Baron Bunny from Amber but killed the monsters before it could go off-

SO IN THE MIDDLE OF LISA TALKING- JUST AN EXPLOSION HAPPENS STAGE LEFT OFF SCREEN AND INTERUPTS HER LMFAO

I LITERALLY APOLOGIZED TO LISA I WAS CRYING LAUGHING SO HARD

(no pls dont make her aware of that for me she would bully me forever)

I FELT LIKE I WAS JUST CAUSING THESE CHARACTERS PROBLEMS RIGHT OFF THE BAT LMAO

◇

And I also didnt know about boss monsters yet (i didnt watch anyone play genshin/know where or what they were lol goin in blindfolded essentially)

So im running around Mond. and I start fighting a Cryo whopperflower for a little while, im not high level yet, and deadass MID SWORD SWING-

I GLITCH THRU A TINY CRACK IN THE ROCKS BC ITS OPEN ON THE TOP RIGHT??!! SO IT WAS JUST SOLID GROUND TO ME AND IM JUST FALLING-??!!

AND THEN I LAND MY ASS THE GIANT CRYO FLOWER REGISVINE AND I STG IT LAGGED AND WAITED FOR A MINUTE BEFORE IT STARTED MOVING LIKE IT WAS CONFUSED TOO-

AND ITS LEVEL IS LIKE IN THE RED

AND THE FALL KILLED AETHER (which I also didnt know could happen 😭TRAUMA) SO I JUST SUDDENLY HAVE AMBER OUT- !!??

BRO THAT WHOLE SITUATION MADE ME THINK I HAD ANGERED THE TINY FLOWER SO BAD IT JUST BECAME HUGE-

I WAS LITERALLY SCREAMING AT MY SCREEN "AMBER FUCK RUNNNN OH GOD AETHER'S DEAD???!! "

BC I WAS LIKE LEVEL 14 VS. ITS LEVEL 36

Talk about an all-knowing creator god 😭😭

Thatd be so embarassing if they remembered that 💀 aether would literally bring it up all the time to get to me

AMBER WOULD PITY ME AND HAVE SYMPATHEY NOO

♧

Then later on in Liyue, theres a chest underneath these guard statues hidden by a bush right? And one of those Geoculus star things too, and i have my compass out trying to find all the Geoculuses(?)

And Im like, " ok towards the statue??"

THEN I JUST PLUMMET- AND I IMMEDIATELY INSTINCTIVELY LIKE, SO HEARTBROKEN AND DISTRESSED SOUNDING "nOPLEASENOTAGAIN- oh, ohhh my godd" my heart was racinggg i literally sighed and I sat there for a minute breathin heavy 😭😭

My team wouldve had a heart attack and field day with me doin shit like that, theyd be like

"This our god? This you?"

Aether has so much blackmail on me 🥲

☆

If I had a mora for everytime I fell on a boss monster in Genshin Impact, I would have 3 mora.

Which isn't a lot of mora, but it's weird that it happened three times.

Cheers,

💀♒️

(we updated the logo bc im stupid and didnt realize i couldve been typing that the whole time)

♡the beloveds♡

Srry figure it was close enough id tag yall anyway

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[aggold15hi01]

Paula's Tumblr Fan Fiction- The Australian Grand Prix 2024- A Lolex Fan fiction- Chapter 1

Author's note; I did this originally on my Blogspot and I am feeling truthfully infuriated with how does Blogspot has issues with me today obviously.

Anyway; enjoy this Lolex Fan Fiction I did wrote this 'toughest' fan fiction I ever done in my very own life.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the respective pictures and none of them are mine.

Credits goes to Alex Albon, Logan Sargeant; P*ntr*st and also the people whom they worked their magic behind the scenes both in person and online too as well.

Written's from Logan's P.O.V

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Alex Albon's intense accident from Australian GP 2024 and also mentions of D*pr*ss**n(?) [I'm not so sure]

Logan's P.O.V

While I am truthfully minding my own business as usual by having to truly listen to V-Cha's 'Girls of the year' through my pair of Space Grey Airpod Max Headphones: I am also singing along to the song very quietly just as I am now watching the Free Practice session on the screen as well; then all of the sudden; when Alex had gotten into a very heavy crash, I did ended up turning my head away from seeing that crash from Alex ever since not only it does looks truthfully super intense for a crash but also at the same time by the when I take look up at the screen after I shield myself from looking at the screen: I did remembered there are commotions of how the first free practice session had to be cancelled with a red flag session while the commentators had mentioned that the car had been severely damaged plus this really makes me turn to the thought of Alex who is my current team mate as although he is five years older than me and yet he also had experience as well during his time in F1; my heart suddenly plummet out of nowhere just as I am now feeling worried about my current team mate whom he and I--we both are the opposite attracts personality wise.

While Alex is very outspoken with his wicked sense of humor; meanwhile I am more of the soft-spoken and reserved type of person: knowing that sometimes I'd think I did truthfully ended up overthinking too much about the little things that I shouldn't be worrying about as well; I felt as if sometimes I kept having the thoughts of the performance which I did truthfully have on me: myself and I plus yet, I didn't truthfully realize that there are certain times when I had placed too much high expectations on myself to the point where I had became a people pleaser thus  . . . this is where music does came into the picture and usually it does truthfully helps me to truthfully focus on whatever I can truthfully control in my very own life instead of focusing on what I couldn't even control in my very own life obviously.

As I am about to walk out of the garage; I did bumped into Gaetan Jego who is my race engineer and the first thing I did spoke to him are those words:

"Hey, is he okay? Is Alex okay?" I asked him breathlessly while I press the button on the right side of my Air pod Max to go from 'noise cancellation' mode to 'transparent' mode while I am asking him the question about Alex's status of his health condition.

"Yes, he seems to be okay; no serious injuries on him despite how he had survive a heavy crash; Logan." He replied to me he looks at me ominously just as I am feeling truthfully worried about my outspoken team mate.

I let out a gasp before I replied to my race engineer with a set of distressing words which I did truthfully said it all in one sentence just before I take off into a sprint: "No, I got to check up on him."  

"Wait, are you sure: Logan? Don't you think you should be preparing for the second practice session?" He ask me before I can response to Gaetan's question while running into a sprint where I went to Alex's garage where now his car does looks as if it does looks more like pieces of debris you could truthfully find it either under the sea with countless shipwrecks and also sometimes they could wash ashore on the edge of the beach.

As I frantically search for Alex; I did finally found him at one of the motorhomes where he is now sitting down on a couch with his pair of long sleeve blue fireproof shirts which create a contrast between the outer layer of the white racing suits which we are now sporting as part of our 2024 Livery as he had his head down with a dejected look on his face.

"Alex, are you okay?" I asked him while I enter the motorhome without even knocking on the door but because of what had happened earlier on how intense the crash is earlier that Alex had experienced it earlier and oh boy, it was so scary to the point where I did felt as if I wanted to truthfully check on him despite how I did have to truly go out later on the second free practice session.

"Huh? What? Logan?" He ask me while he is feeling truly dazed from what had happened earlier.

"Yeah; it's me, what on earth had happened to you?!" I ask; sounding both shock and surprised while I place my headphone around my neck after I paused the song.

"I am feeling okay but I truly don't know if I can probably race again; bud."

"What do you mean you don't know if you can truthfully race any more; bud?" I ask, now feeling truthfully confused.

"I really don't know, man: it is just way too much for me to handle especially how intense it was earlier despite how I am feeling thankful that it is a miracle I did managed to both survive and escape from that harmful crash unscathed."

"I know but you can't let that discourage you." I protest, now sounding equally both genuinely distressed and scared at the same time just as I am feeling stressed out all because of a crash must had given him a scare and yet; when I spoke to him in this way: I did felt as there is a waves of protection washes over me mentally and spiritually just if someone tries to hurt Alex in every step of the way just as the same as how Alex would do as an older brother if they did the same with me.

Although I may be younger than either Alex or my older brother Dalton but I am not letting anyone or anybody simply just speak about them especially in a very toxic way.

"I know but . . ."

"Listen to me, Alex: i know you may not have a car to drive and I knew you experience a scary accident but it doesn't mean you can truly let it deter you from having to continue on with Formula 1 career and you knew how far you had made it obviously and I'm serious; man." I said while placing both pair of my hands onto Alex's shoulder as I felt as if I did truly wanted to shake him so hard to give him a well-deserved wake up call from having to truly criticize himself just as when he did went into an unexpected downward spiral from both the self hate and self harm by having to simply destruct him as a form of self abuse.

"Logan; I don't think I truly can do this and all and  . . ."

"Just listen to me, would you; Alex?!" I protested; now sounding equally distressed; shocked, hurt: angered and scared about what exactly he is truthfully experiencing now in his very own life.

I know I maybe years younger than him however I am not going to let him became deterred by the waves of both the self destruction and the self abuse to simply destroy him out of nowhere.

"Logan?" He ask me after waking up from the hazy feeling of the numbness he had to truthfully experience in his very own life.

"Alex . . ." I moan while I had mentioned his name out of instant concern plus my pair of Pacific eyes sparkles with nothing but concern and sadness.

"Look man, I know it is too much to ask however . . . can you give the space? I mean . . . right now; i do need the space to truthfully take the time to think." He ask me tiredly while heaving a deep and an equally heavy sigh just as when he tries to wake up very early in the morning,

"Wait; what?" I ask him softly to match his current voice which my present team mate is talking towards me despite how he is now staring down on the floor; wishing the floor can open up a huge hole where it could swallow him out of nowhere then he would instantly disappear out of nowhere.

"I mean I would like to truly get the space and time I do truthfully needed, Logan." He replied to me very softly.

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Noah

Through hooded eyes, I watched the dimly lit red numbers on the bedside clock fade in and out for God only knows how long. 2:43 AM. I should be sleeping, yet here I was, wide awake and exhausted at the same time.

Sighing, I pushed myself into a sitting position, careful not to disturb Olivia as she snoozed next to me. From the moonlight streaming in from the skylight, I could see that her cheeks were still tinted a light pink and her eyes were puffy from all the crying she had done earlier in the night. There was a strand of hair falling into her mouth, shifting with each breath that she took. I chuckled sadly to myself, remembering that very first night where she fell asleep on my lap in the same condition, and delicately brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She was beautiful then and is still just as beautiful now.

I had been lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep after the events from earlier. Every time I shut my eyes, all I could see was the despair on her face as she cried in my arms, and all I could hear was the pain in her voice when she asked if I loved her. Each time my heart would plummet; the guilt I felt was unbearable. How could I be so careless, so stupid?

I saw it when she would give me the cold shoulder or scolded me when I forgot plan after plan. I saw it when she started to distance herself and spent way too much time at the bakery, leaving me to wake up in an empty bed. I saw it when she relapsed after 3 years. I saw it all, and yet I selfishly kept fucking up. She was right; I was putting too much time and energy into the new album and not enough into our marriage, and she was hurting because of it. She had been calling out to me, and I didn't notice until it was becoming too late.

Liv inhales deeply all of a sudden, stirring in her sleep. I watched her for a moment as she blindly threw her arm out, draping it over my lap, and pulled herself close. I lazily ran a hand through her hair while she settled back into her slumber, nuzzling her face in the space between the mattress and my leg. I smiled softly to myself, cherishing her affection while I could—even if she wasn't conscious.

Olivia was the light of my life, and I'll be damned if that light flickers out because of my foolishness.

-

I’m startled awake by the sound of coughing, followed by a rush of something hitting water, then more coughing. The bathroom door was left ajar, a ribbon of light shining from the floor and to the ceiling. I knew immediately that it was Olivia, getting sick once again from how much she had to drink last night. I frowned, throwing the blankets off me, and made my way in to see how she was doing.

Her arms were folded over the toilet seat, her forehead pressed against them as she sniffled and let out a few harsh breaths. I made my way over, grabbing a hair tie off the vanity before kneeling behind her and gathering her hair in my hands. I gently combed through her locks with my fingers, separating the strands and started to weave them into a braid from her hairline. She hums and mumbles a quiet ‘thank you’, sniffling and letting out an exasperated sigh.

When I finished tying off the French braid, I gave her a kiss on the back of her head and shuffled to her side, sitting on my feet. She remained in the same position as I rubbed slow circles into her back, and I could see that her cheeks were stained with fresh tears—she always cried whenever she threw up.

“Are you okay, love?” I asked her softly, continuing to smooth my hand over her back. She takes a choppy breath in, nodding against her arms. “Yeah,” she groans, pulling one arm away from the toilet seat and searched for the lever blindly. She eventually flushes the toilet and drops her arm down to her side in what seemed to be exhaustion. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed,” I tell her, pressing my lips to her head again. She sniffles and nods once more but doesn’t move.

I stand up to grab a face cloth, running it under the faucet before returning to my original position beside her. I ran a hand down the back of her head, hoping to coax her into sitting up. She sighs and picks her head up, slowly facing me, remorse heavy in her features—brows raised and knitted together, eyes dull and swollen, cheeks and nose reddened, all while her lips trembled. I felt my heart sink at the sight, absolutely hating seeing her like this.

I delicately tip her head up by her chin, bringing the damp cloth to her cheeks first so I could wipe the tear stains away. I dabbed around her mouth, clearing the dribble of saliva and vomit that remained there. I could feel her lips quivering as I went over them; I knew she was embarrassed, even before she apologized for vomiting.

I tossed the face cloth into the laundry basket and stood, holding my hands out to help her up. She takes my hands in hers, and I lift her to her feet while placing her arms around my midsection, promptly wrapping mine around her. I embraced her tightly for a moment or two, gently swaying her back and forth before letting go, guiding her back to bed.

I laid her down, and she looked up at me with a saddened smile curling at the corner of her lips, holding my hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, closing her eyes and shaking her head. I squeezed her hand, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, too. I fucked up, Olivia.” I watched her face contort, tears beading up in the inner corner of her eyes. “I fucked up, too,” she chokes out, her lips continuing to tremble as the tears rolled down her face. I used my free hand to wipe them away, hushing her when she started to let out tiny cries. God, I hated seeing her like this, and it was all my fucking fault.

“I know you think I don’t love you anymore,” I start to tell her with a quivering voice, my chest tightening just thinking those words, “but I want you to know that that is the furthest thing from the truth, Olivia.” My throat begins to burn from suppressing the cry that was forming, the dreadful emotions from last night creeping back inside of me as I hear her words in my head again.

You don’t even love me anymore, do you?

I cleared my throat and tried to swallow down the pain, giving her another firm squeeze to her hand. “I know that I’ve been selfish, that I’ve been spending an ungodly amount of time recording, but I swear it wasn’t my intent to hurt you. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, all I know is that I love you a-and I’m scared—” My voice cracks, that sob finally slipping past my lips. “I’m scared you’re going to leave, and I don’t want that to happen. I can’t have that happen.”

It was her turn to wipe away the tears that I tried so hard to hold back, but they still found their way down my face. She sat up and ran her fingers under my eyes before palming my cheek, turning my head towards her. "No," she whispers and presses her lips to mine delicately. "I'm not leaving," she mumbles against my lips, "and I'm sorry for what I said, making you think that." I closed my eyes briefly and let out a sigh of relief, readjusting on the bed so I could lie down and pull her against me. She hooks her leg over my hip, shifting until she was lying on top of me, and nuzzles her head in the crook of my neck.

"I'm so fucking sorry for everything, Liv," I whispered, kneading my fingers through her hair, disregarding the braid while my other arm secures her body to mine. She let out a whimper, her breath warm against my neck, and I could feel her tears settling into the curve of my collarbone. "I promise I'll fix this, if it's the last thing that I do. I'll cancel the goddamn tour if I have to, so long as you never question the love that I have for you." "No," she shakes her head and kisses my neck lightly before picking her head up to look at me, still teary-eyed. "You can't do that. You've worked so hard to get where you are now. I've been overreacting—" "Shh, no, you haven't been overreacting. You have every right to feel the way that you feel, and I don't want you to feel that way," I bring a hand to her face, tracing the apple of her cheek with my thumb. "I can't have you feeling that way because of me. Please let me fix this." She shakes her head 'no' again, "You can't cancel the tour because of me, Noah." "Then... Then come with me," I blurted out without so much as thinking about how that would play out.

She remains silent after taking a quick breath in, her lips parting ever-so-slightly as she pondered my words. The longer I sat here searching her eyes for an answer, the harder my heart pounded from apprehension of whether she would accept my offer or not.

"I can't with the bakery, Noah, you know that," she says dejectedly, and my heart sank from the rejection. I sighed, racking my brain for any possible way of allowing this to happen. "What if for only a couple shows?" I pleaded. "Who's gonna run the bakery while I'm gone? There's orders that need to be made, the money needs to be situated, a shipment comes in once a week—" "Hold on, slow your brain for a second," I chuckled. "We'll figure something out. You have an assistant manager, right?" She quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head to the side with a little bob, possibly considering it. "Well, there is Juliana," she concurs with a huff. "She knows most of the operations, I guess... I'll discuss it with her, see how confident she feels about it." I flashed her a smile, giving her a little squeeze from the joy that buzzed through me.

-

Liv had reasonably called out of work for the day, still not feeling well when she finally got up to start her day. She claimed physically, but deep down I knew that a good part of it was mentally.

I helped her the best that I could; I made her a light breakfast of toast with peanut butter, knowing that would be all she could stomach, and made sure she was drinking enough water before allowing her the coffee she kept whining about. She looked like a kid on Christmas morning when I handed her the mug, and I couldn't help but laugh from her excitement.

"How do you feel about a walk?" I asked later in the afternoon while we watched a rerun of Avatar: The Last Airbender, huddled under a blanket together. She gives a short hum, lifting her arms over her head with a deep inhale as she sat up. "Getting some fresh air would probably do me some good," she chuckles. I grinned and stood up, pressing a kiss to her temple before making my way to the bedroom. She gives me a questioning look when I returned holding a backpack. "Where are we going?" I shrugged, now headed into the kitchen. "Not sure," I fibbed with a smirk spreading across my face, "so I thought snacks would be a good idea in case we get lost." She snorts. "Well, I do like snacks," she then mumbles, trailing after me to help pick out what to munch on. We settled on pretzels and a few leftover oatmeal raisin cookies that she baked a couple days ago before heading out the door.

It was only about a 20-minute walk to the beach from our home, so I thought it would be a good idea to relax there for a little while and catch the sunset. Liv and I would do this from time to time; lay out a blanket on the shore an hour or so before the sunset and watch the waves crash down while we talked about everything and nothing. We'd lie down as the sun slipped behind the horizon, enjoying the remaining warmth from the sand, and eventually wrap ourselves together as the air began to chill.

It didn't take her long to realize where we were going, the added bounce in her step telling me she was eager to arrive at the beach. She kicked off her shoes, letting go of my hand to pick them up and trotted down the walkway once we got there. My heart nearly melted at the sight, hearing the giggles emanate from her as she continued to put distance between us. "Hey, wait for me!" I shook my head in amusement and kicked off my own shoes before jogging after her.

When I cleared the walkway, Olivia was standing about 40, maybe 50 feet out, stopped dead in her tracks, just gazing at the tide. She was completely entranced by the ocean, but here I was, completely entranced by her. The way the wind danced through her mahogany hair, the way the golden hour's glow cascaded over her and complimented her complexion perfectly, the way her smile only seemed to grow...which was probably just from me walking closer to her, but still.

I closed the gap between us and hugged her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. She hums contently and places her hands over mine with a light squeeze. We stood like this for a few minutes, hypnotized by the waves gently crawling up the shoreline before pulling back and returning to the depths in which they came from.

“C’mon, let’s get comfy,” I tell her, loosening my hold on her so I could slip the backpack off. I placed our snacks onto the sand and dug out the blanket that I shoved in there prior, fanning it out before moving the food onto it. I plopped down and held my hand out to her; she instinctively took it with a smile and sat beside me.

She rested her head on my shoulder as we munched on our cookies and pretzels, just enjoying each other’s company as the sun started to slip lower as the time passed. I placed a hand on her knee and aimlessly rubbed her with my thumb while she snaked her arm between mine and my side, clinging onto me. I glanced down at her and couldn’t help the smile on my face when I saw how happy she was, a welcoming buzz spreading through me from the sight. I pressed a kiss to her head before turning my attention back to the ocean.

“You know why I love watching the sunrise or sunset?” she asks just as the sky started to shift into a deep orange, the turquoise waters spreading into cobalt. “Why’s that?” She squeezes my arm a little tighter. “Because it reminds me of the night you told me that you loved me. Then you woke me up at a godawful hour to take me to watch the sunrise,” she let out a quiet laugh, and I felt my own chuckle start to form in my throat, remembering how grumpy she was originally. “And even though I did not want to get up, it was so worth it. I’ve never seen something so beautiful in my life, and it was all thanks to you, Noah. You gave me the ability to witness this with all the love you made me feel for you, and I’ll forever cherish that moment.”

She picked her head up from my shoulder and I could just catch the remnants of blue glimmering in her eyes as she smiled at me. As I gazed into them with her words cycling in my head, it made me realize how important the little things are. The sunrise or sunset filled her with joy for the same reason that blue is my favorite color—it’s the color of her eyes, the color I never want to lose the ability to see, the color that made me realize I had fallen in love with her. It made me realize that I would do anything to continue to witness it, so long as I have her by my side, and that I really needed to smarten up it I wanted to keep it that way.

I cupped her cheek and brought my lips to hers, feeling the grin still plastered on her face as I relished the way our mouths fit perfectly together. Her lips were so soft, so full against mine; I suddenly felt starved of her, and I swear she felt the same of me. I couldn’t let go, I couldn’t pull back from her—instead we’d separate just enough for us to gather an ample amount of air before reconnecting.

I could taste the sweetness of cinnamon sugar as she parted her lips, our tongues meeting with slow and unhurried movements. Warmth blossomed in my chest, our breathing picking up as the heat continued to rise within us. She clings onto my hoodie as she lies down, bringing me with her. We moved a little too quickly, our teeth clacking together, and she giggles underneath me. I took the time to pull away, catching the crinkle in her nose that I adored when she laughed, and smiled down at her.

“I love you,” I whispered to her and ran my hand down her face delicately, enjoying the feeling of her supple skin against my fingertips. The sun was mostly gone now, but I could still see her eyes shining as I gazed at her with adoration. She reached up and placed her hand against my cheek, and I swear her eyes were illuminating while she grinned at me. “I love you too, Noah,” she whispers back and kisses me gently. “More than anything,” she then mumbled against my lips.

My heart could’ve exploded right then and there; it seemed like forever since she actually said she loved me. All I could do was smile against her, feeling like I was soaring, and I couldn’t let this feeling fade away.

Ever.  

|Chapter 8|

[imawreck]

Pancakes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: With the team finally coming to a decision that the girl isn't a huge threat, she's housed in the tower with the rest of the avengers under surveillance. The girl takes the opportunity to finally relax for the first time in centuries.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,637

Bucky-

After the girls'... breakdown, the team decided it was best to leave any attempt to study her until after we knew of her triggers. She was allowed to leave the remains of the holding cell and moved to another housing level of Stark tower. My level.

I don't think Tony did it intentionally, he did say after all, that he didn't want us to have alone time together. But Steve was also present on the same level just another hallway down. Maybe that's why he had set her with us. Steve and I were more capable than any other to dismantle another Super Soldier.

I hadn't spoken to her since that day. The memories from when I was The Winter Soldier had given me a migraine for several days. I had remembered some of the missions I had seen her on, including the garish nightmare when she desperately tried to keep me alive.

My heart plummeted at the image of her crestfallen face.

That was another thing. Since her arrival, I have been more out of focus than I've ever been before. What little I had regained of my emotional well-being had diminished significantly with her arrival. I had all these feelings I couldn't understand, like they weren't mine at all. I didn't know what to do with them. I had talked to Steve about it briefly and he had scrunched his brows and told me that they could be from the memories the Winter Soldier had. Which means in some sense, her and I definitely knew each other. That her and the darkest part of me were familiar.

The next time I saw her in person was her first day on the house floor. She had been in the kitchen staring at the lush furniture and appliances Tony had provided for the residents of the tower. Her face was blank as ever as she made herself familiar with everything. I could tell by the way she scrutinized the fancy coffee maker and microwave that she hadn't been around to see most of the inventive perks of the recent years. She had been thrown into this world right out of her own just like I had.

I had watched her study everything, picking up on how they worked with surprising speed and started making herself breakfast in the process. It was a simple dish of plain eggs and a slice of toast. Nothing like what we had tried to feed her the first few days of her being here. Her movements were practiced as she sat rigid in her chair and took small bites of her meal.

She had sighed when she went in for her second bite, the singular moment I had caught her remotely relaxed, and paused as her ears literally twitched, and inhaled again through her nose. Her shoulders had tensed but then gradually relaxed.

"You can join me at the table, I promise I won't bite."

I had frozen, baffled by her keen senses. I was certain I hadn't made any noise when I had stopped at the end of the hall.

Her voice flitted through the silence again, "You don't have to though, if I make you uncomfortable. It's been a very long time since I've seen you, and you were a lot different than you are now. I'm not even sure what to call you anymore... you have so many names here."

It was strange to hear her meaningful words, words that should've left her lips with a sad draw, come out in a flat analytical tone. Like a machine.

She continued, "If my presence here makes you uncomfortable, I can leave. I've noticed you avoid me." She pushed eggs across her plate and let the silence envelope us once more.

I sighed, pushing off the wall and slowly making my way to the seat beside her. I hesitated before sitting, catching her eyes watching my every move. They glinted in the dim light of the morning like they had in the jet back to the tower, silvered and holographic. I chose not to mention it. "You don't make me uncomfortable, Tony just told me to steer clear of you without someone else around. Just in case."

"Tony is your commander correct? He is an intelligent man. Arrogant, but intelligent." She scooped eggs into her mouth again. The light caught her pearly white teeth as she bit down on the fork. She had fangs. "And the red one, the woman, she's a mind reader. I could feel her trying to shut me down before you... interfered."

I frowned at that. Wanda hadn't mentioned trying to stop her meltdown.

"I should apologize to Doctor Banner, I was quite unpleasant towards him." She shoved the last bite of eggs into her mouth and gracefully hopped- yes, hopped- down from her chair to glide over to the sink. She began to scrub away at her dishes. "Am I permitted beyond this floor... Sergeant?"

I blew out a breath of air, "You can call me Bucky. And yes, if someone is with you."

She eyed me over her shoulder, "But not you I suppose, for security reasons, right? Captain Rogers then." His name rolled off her tongue impossibly flatter than the rest of her sentences. She really didn't care for Steve.

I watched her as she cleaned up, expertly drying and resetting the dishes in their shelves and the silverware back in their respective drawers. She dried her hands on the towel and hung it to dry like she had done it every day of her life. She was a mystery to me.

"Where can I find Doctor Banner? I wish to apologize as soon as possible. I would also like to inform him that I'll be operational within the next two days." She stared at me as she said these things with her shoulders set and her feet confidently planted. She always looked like she was ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

"He won't be in the compound today. Stark has taken him on a business trip of some kind."

Her shoulders dropped a bit, but she shook it off. "Would you please let him know that I wish to speak with him?"

I nodded, and she nodded back. "I need to find Captain Rogers. I do not have clothes apart from the set I arrived in and the hospital garment."

I sighed, "He will probably be down with the others. I'll come with you."

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

Ghost - 

The ride down the main level was quiet. Bucky was a quiet natured person, that part of him was obvious and familiar to me. I found comfort in his silent presence. I caught myself relaxing just a fraction and glancing up at his face. He always seemed so calm.

The elevator halted and the doors opened allowing us to step out. I was immediately enveloped in the strong scent of charred food and an unbearably loud argument. Captain Rogers, currently manning the stove, had presumably burned what looked like pancakes sitting in the frying pan. Another member of the team, one I'm not familiar with, was yelling at him for his lack of culinary skills.

"Dammit Rogers, I just wanted some pancakes! How do you not know how to cook pancakes? They've been around since you were born a hundred years ago!" The man threw his hands up and ran one through his buzzed black hair.

"I turned away for two minutes, Sam! How was I supposed to know they would burn that quick?" The captain quickly shut off the stove and scraped the charred chunk of food into the trash can before setting the pan back down with a clank. He turned then, his attention landing on us. He cleared his throat. "Good morning, sorry for the noise."

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. "You never were the best cook. Conveniently, I think our new guest is pretty skilled in the kitchen. I'm sure she could help out if you asked her nicely."

The Captain eyed Bucky, his brow raised. "Really?"

I stepped forward, grabbing the mix and adding in what was left of the box. "How many would you like?"

All three of them took a seat at the bar and told me their respective numbers and I got to work setting the stove to low while mixing the bowl. I could feel their eyes on me as I began to pour out their pancakes and plate them at a perfect golden brown.

Sam spoke up after the final pancake was plated and the syrup was set out on the counter. "Well, I'll be damned. She's been in the freezer longer than you both and she knows how to cook. You guys gotta step up your game." He winked at me, picking up his fork.

They began to eat as I set everything back in its place. Bucky had been watching me with surprising scrutiny. It made my skin crawl. After I was finished, I spoke to the captain. "I am in need of clothes if I am going to stay here. I need an escort to leave the building and I believe if you were to go with me, Mr. Stark would be more comfortable."

He chewed slowly, looking back up at me. He flinched a little as our eyes met and I angled myself away from the lights hoping to make it easier for him. "I'll go as soon as the shops open, it's a little too early to go now. You will have to stay within six feet of me at all times or else you won't be allowed outside of the building again."

I nodded. "Understood."

Bucky stood, walking around to place his dish in the sink next to me. "I'll go with you. The public might be too much for her. Especially if you get flocked like last time."

The captain nodded and went back to eating, the room falling back into comfortable silence.

[animeyanderelover]

Genuinely curious abt this; Gon with a Darling concerned but also afraid of him. Basically they have conflicted feelings for him; they always viewed him as this sweet innocent ray of sunshine capable of no wrong, he always has this sense of justice that Reader admired. They followed him on his journey to find his Father in the Hunter Exams, all the way to Chimera Arc.

That was a big turning point there. Reader noticed the signs througout their journey but they were confused. And then they saw how Gon reacted to Kite's death, they tried their best to console him. But with how Gon mercilessly plummeted Pitou to nothing, Reader's image of Gon is put to question and now they have no idea how to act or feel around him. Their responses were shorter, unsure, a bit distant and avoidant but they're also not sure whether to pull away or stay.

How would Gon reassure them?

That arc changed my view on Gon too. I guess it changed many opinions about Gon.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, clinginess, delusions, obsession, violence

Should I leave or stay?

🎣​You two basically grew up together and have been inseparable as long as you can remember. You two are are childhood sweethearts. Gon just has something that you've always admired. He's optimistic, always cheers you up when you're done and has a strong sense of justice. He's already told you about his dream to go to the Hunter Exam and find his father and you've been nothing but supportive, have already sworn to go together with him. That led to a pinky promise you two made on that day, promising to go through everything together. Gon's crush on you is fairly obvious but the whole village watches with smiles since the both of you are too adorable together. Who knows, your admiration and all the years you spent with him might have led to a crush from your side too.

🎣​You make great friends on the way, feel really happy in the beginning since it feels like nothing could ever get in your and Gon's way now. You have great people like Leorio, Kurapika and Killua with you after all. Hisoka marks the first real confrontation with the more evil aspects of the world as he has an interest in Gon and you, sees you as something that has potential. He freaks you out and Gon notices, reacts very protective as he always tries to shield you as soon as Hisoka notices your group.

🎣​Many things happen and the grim reality which was kept away from you on the isolated island starts dawning on you more and more. There are times where you feel down but Gon and your new friends encourage you and are there for you which is why you're always able to stay up. You help to save Killua from his family, fight your way through the arena and learn together with Gon and Killua Nen. You even manage to survive the Phanom Troupe somehow thanks to Gon and your own abilities which you unlocked thanks to your Nen. Bisky only helps you more to unlock your true Nen-potential as you work on your own special move fitting for you and your type.

🎣​You admire Kite and you know Gon does the same. He's finally a close lead to his father and a great teacher to top it all. Both of you look up to him and in your own naivety you genuinely think that after surviving the Phantom Troupe there is nothing you can't handle. That is until the Chimera Ants appear and Neferpitou attacks. The aura they project has your whole body trembling as you feel something that can only be described as the certain knowledge that you'll die here. Only thanks to Kite fighting and screaming you to run away and Killua grabbing both you and Gon, who wants to help Kite, are you able to survive.

🎣​It's the first time you've seen Gon being shattered as he turns into a shell of what he used to be for a while after. Your heart aches and you try to console him and cheer him up as good as you can. He's done so much for you already so you can at least do something for him too. Initially you're too blinded to notice what starts to brood inside of him. Or maybe you just try to ignore the signs he sometimes gives you such as the flare of negative aura or the empty look in those normally warm eyes. He's still your childhood friend after all, the optimistic and cheerful Gon. How can you ever think about him changing into something more dark when he sometimes clings to you as silent tears slip out of his eyes? You're in denial for a long time.

🎣​Those empty eyes when the three of you confront Neferpitou are horrific just as much as the hateful and murderous aura around him. Suddenly, as you see Neferpitou pleading to save a human life and Gon mercilessly shooting their offer down, you can't tell who is truly evil anymore. There is a human girl about to die if the Chimera Ant doesn't help them so why won't Gon give them the time they need to properly heal them? Gon surely wouldn't sacrifice a human life, an innocent one? Kite wouldn't have wanted this! The Gon you know wouldn't do this! You try to talk sense into him, ask him to give Pitou the time they asked for yet you stumble back out of fear when he turns around. His face is contorted into a ugly mask you can't bear to look at as he suddenly resembles a monster more than the boy you know. Surely you don't suddenly take the side of the killer of Kite, right?

🎣​You feel like you can't breathe anymore as you stare at the stranger in front of you, your heart beating out of fear. Why do you suddenly fear Gon? Is...Is that even Gon? You are silent for the rest of the time and as soon as Pitou is finished with their work and Gon wants to force them to heal Kite, he tells you in a voice devoid of all emotions that he wants you to stay away and go somewhere safe. Any protest you have dies out when he stares into your soul with those blank eyes that feel like they might suffocate you. You fear a direct confrontation and lie to him, something you've never done intentially before, tell him that you'll wait for him. In reality you just wait until you're sure that neither him nor Pitou with their insane En reach will notice you. You're sweating as images of Gon go through your head, the one you've tried to ignore despite all the signs.

🎣​When the insane wave of Nen hits you, you have a vivid flashback of the first time you met Pitou. Someone is going to die! You rush to the place you sense the trememdous wave of sinister Nen coming from. You stumble and scratch yourself as your body gives up multiple times on you out of a sheer overload of fear yet you force yourself to go on. You have a bad feeling deep down in the pit of your stomach, nearly throw out the contains of your stomach multiple times and are only able to take shallow breaths the closer you get. Once you reach your destination, you finally throw up everything you've eaten as you see something that completely shatters your own heart.

🎣​A huge man, plumming the headless corpse of Pitou into a bloody mush. Tears drop down you feel nauseous, coughing up the bitter and sour liquid of not fully digested food. Your throat stings from the gag reflex as you continue to cry, eyes tightly pressed together as you refuse to look. You know those clothes, you know the color of this hair, you know this Nen aura even if it is nothing like the friendly and passionate one you used to always sense. It feels like all your memories of Gon are tainted until you can only see the image of empty eyes and a dead person who is beating into the ground until only a puddle of blood and bones remains.

🎣​When you hear your own name being called, you choke on the air. Your body is violently shaking and everything inside of you screams to run away yet you don't have the strength. Your head is only able to move milimeters as you slowly dare to lift your head, pupils quivering. The only thing you can hear by now is your own heartbeat threatening to break through your ribs. Yet everything completely stops, even time, as you meet those eyes. He's crying, despite the horrendous act he just committed he is crying, blue blood decorating his face as he looks at you. It feels like you forget how to breathe, even your heart feels like it stops beating in that moment. Your vision is invaded by black dots dancing in front of your eyes as your chest starts to hurt.

🎣​You don't remember much after that, you only know that you wake up inside of a hospital. Apparently you've fainted, Killua found both you and Gon and carried you both back. When you hear Gon's name, your hands clutch the sheets of the bed tightly as your throat feels tight. You barely manage to press out the question of what happened to Gon and the hesitant look on their face has your heart freezing. You prepare yourself for the worst yet nothing could have prepared you for Gon's condition, you nearly throw up again. You get to hear that Killua apparently knows a way to heal Gon and has gone without you yet Leorio is here. When the man asks you worriedly what happened, the full burden hits you and you end up crying in front of him.

🎣​You spend hours just staring through the glass pane, waiting for Killua to come back. During this time you have a lot to think about. Gon has changed. You can't deny this any longer. You've just ignored all the signs you noticed throughout the way since you didn't want to accept that your Gon would ever change. You've been a fool to think that way. This world filled with Nen and hunters is vastly different from the small island you two grew up, obviously you two would change somewhere along the way. You've probably changed too, everyone changes eventually. This realization that Gon has changed and has lost something important has you shedding silent tears. His whole perception of the world must have warped when Kite died and you wonder how much of the old Gon is left. What you do know though is that the sight of this darker Gon has traumatized you and your body still reacts that way even now. There are slight shivers of terror going through your body.

🎣​You force yourself to stay around, at least until Gon finally meets his dad. You even try to stay optimistic when you notice that Gon is back to his old self as soon as Nanika has healed him. Yet you can't. When you stare at his grinning face, your mind automatically recalls empty and cold eyes and a face covered in blue blood. You always have to avoid your eyes as you try to suppress the shivers. You can't converse with him anymore, your responses are short and you always end up excusing yourself, walking quickly away as your hands turn to fists. You can't even look at him anymore, the images of him obliterating a corse haunting you.

🎣​Your distant behavior confuses Gon, it hurts him even. You two have always been so close after all so he isn't able to fathom why you suddenly want to pull away from him. He's a honest and straightforward person so he tries multiple times to ask you about your strange behavior but you constantly dodge him and leave him, not even spare him a glance. He senses your fear. You're scared of him and that knowledge bruises his heart. Why would you be scared of him? He'd never hurt you. His memories are foggy, he can't recall everything that happened after his encounter with Neferpitou and it isn't until Killua tells him that he found you lying unconscious near him that he realizes that you were there too.

🎣​Gon isn't very good with mind games, he confronts you openly about this at one point. Tries to reassure your dwelling fear of what you saw on that day. There are tears brimming in his eyes when he notices how you shake and take a step back as soon as he leans closer, a terrified look on your face. He pleads you to look at him at least just once but when you do and he sees the terror written all over your face, he can't bear it. He starts crying too but instead of trying to comfort him like you used to do, you just stand silently there with your lips pressed into a thin line.

🎣​Gon tries to make you forget, acts extra sweet around you to show you that he's still the same person. He's clingier though and more protective. He tries to tell himself that you'd never leave him, you two made a pinky promise after all to go through everything together. You've forgotten about that promise by now though and can only give him a bewildered look when he reminds you that you two made a promise. That means nothing to you anymore and hearing you say those words plunges a dagger of pain and desperation inside Gon's heart. He grows paranoid even more though he mumbles to himself that you wouldn't leave him since you two have always been together. That everything will be fine between you two. He becomes quite overbearing though, follows you everywhere and is excessively sweet towards you. If you try to run away, dangers are that he'll snap though. He already lost Kite and can't handle losing you too. He needs to protect you.