#i wonder if this will make any sense to anyone except for me

[aquarianlights]

How do you keep going when it looks like 99% of your country has joined a cult whose soul purpose is hatred of everything you & everyone you know & love are when all you're doing is existing just like everyone else?

[nebs-shitposts]

im not even mad about timeless child/ flux anymore because of the wonderful performance DT gave characterizing how devastating it was to experience that as the doctor.

[skunkes]

i know its not the same at all bc its obsession/romanticizing/idealizing but i really do love when people fixate on celebrities and even some fictional/animated characters (depending on level of detail) bc people do really fall in love with anything and everything always...

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.

So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:

That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.

We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.

Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:

It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.

Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?

Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.

Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.

Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.

He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.

He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.

"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.

I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.

I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.

So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?

I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.

But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.

I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).

I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."

I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).

Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.

Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this:

[drunktuesdays]

everyone is fucking but no one is horny

one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.

and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.

but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.

[lady-phasma]

Captivated

The Vampire Armand x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some biting, mention of blood, smut, spit as lube, penetration but no gender mentioned.

Summary: You decide to go home with Armand, PWP, 3.1k words

a/n: human reader (not a vampire) but not described (inclusive!reader), no specified location, probably not Dubai, modern but no time stated however I decided vampires have announced themselves (like late TVC book canon), I headcanon Armand as a sub but to make this an inclusive gn reader he’s a bit of a switch.

Special thanks to the amazing @aemondsbabe for all the help listening to ideas and letting me fangirl!

You followed him down the hallway. The apartment building was modern and austere. Your footsteps echoed off the bare walls. The liminal quality of the empty space at this early-late hour was unnerving and exhilarating. Everyone in the building asleep except the two of you. Armand walked slowly, but still a few steps ahead of you. He could feel your anxiety, but he could also feel your curiosity. It intrigued him.

Armand unlocked and opened the door, holding it for you to enter after he had stepped inside. The air was cool and made you shiver, compounding your exhilaration. A nagging part of your mind still wondered what you could possibly be thinking, accepting an offer to come back to a vampire’s home with him. When the door closed and locked behind you the sense of dread seemed to deepen momentarily. Then you felt Armand’s hand on your lower back. You exhaled. He stepped in front of you and his gentle smile and calm face soothed your trepidation. You pulled your eyes up from his lips to meet his gaze. His smile reached the corners of his eyes and made you feel… safe? Before you had time to decide if that was the feeling he spoke.

“Shall I make you a drink?” He moved away from you, sliding his hand from your back to your hip and then walking away. “I make a lovely martini.” His voice trailed behind him. You stepped out of your fear and walked toward him. He eyed the shape of your body under your clothes as you approached. He hadn’t intended to meet anyone tonight and was predominately a creature of habit, but you had approached him so confidently. It was difficult to dismiss you.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “No, thank you. I almost had too many at the bar. Maybe a glass of water, if you don’t mind that is.”

“Of course not,” he smiled at you again. That smile had drawn you across the bar to him, that and his presence. He commanded any room he was in by being the most mysterious yet unassuming person in it. It was easy to not notice him at first, but when you had looked closer you felt a magnetic pull. You only acted on it when he gave you that exact smile.

You looked around the large room, kitchen and living room open and uncluttered. Ice clinked in a glass behind you, water poured over it, not from the tap. Bottled water, of course. You smiled briefly. Before you could register the sound of his footsteps he was beside you. You took the glass he offered and sipped. Your mouth was dry, but not from thirst. You licked water from your lips and saw him watching. His eyes were the only unnerving part of him. They caught you off guard if you looked away from him for too long. But when he looked at you like that they were beguiling and you wondered what he was thinking. It was more than hunger. You both knew that.

You set your glass on the countertop and walked toward the plate glass window. The view was spectacular, expensive. You marveled at the city lights, pretending to be more interested in them than in Armand. You tried desperately to keep your nerves under control, but it was little use.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” You jumped a bit as he spoke. His voice was soft, but you hadn’t heard him approach this time. “I enjoy seeing the movement of humans around me. Thriving, suffering, toiling, never quite satisfied so they strive for more greatness. Cities have always enchanted me, that ambition is better seen nowhere else.”

“Do you have a favorite?” You turned to look at him. He stared out the window but he was no longer seeing.

“Yes,” he replied dreamily. “Venice. But not the Venice you will ever know. Venice was once the most beautiful place on earth for me.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We didn’t come here to talk of Venice, did we?”

You swallowed dryly as he turned to look at you. There was a moment’s hesitation, Armand waiting, you deciding, then you stepped toward him and placed your hand on his waist. He smiled again, but this one didn’t reach his eyes. Moving with slow deliberation, he brushed his fingers across your cheek and down your neck. Your lips parted and his eyes flicked down, then back up to yours. His gravity was too strong, his allure too overwhelming. His fingers slid to the back of your neck and you leaned forward. Your lips barely touched his at first. Then he closed the distance. His fingers tightened on the back of your neck. A small moan escaped your mouth and you stopped the impulse to slide your hand to his back and pull his body against yours. Something about this man made you want to wait, be patient, savor him.

Instead you ran your tongue over his bottom lip as you kissed, begging for entrance. He allowed it. You felt one of his fangs and almost pulled back at the sensation. But when he moaned you crushed your lips against his, spurred on by his response to the faint taste of copper from the scratch on your tongue. Armand’s free hand flew to your hip, fingers digging in through your clothing as he kissed you back fiercely. He felt the stirrings of human desire begin after the taste of your blood. It was never as satisfying as drinking, but it was more than merely pleasant. He wanted as much from you as you were willing to give but he would not allow himself to rush. He was ancient and patient. But he could be insistent and he encouraged you with his hands, his mouth. The press of his tongue against yours, the coolness of his lips slowly warming from your heat, the way he clenched and unclenched his fingers on your skin, made the ache in your core begin to coil tighter like a spring. Then he slowly began to pull back from you. You opened your eyes, lightheaded from need.

With some hesitation, you raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your palm. Armand almost closed his eyes before you moved your hand to his jaw, his neck. Your fingers delved into his hair, tangling in the curls, and you tugged gently. He lifted his chin. You placed your mouth against the cool skin of his neck, feeling his pulse beneath your lips. You let your teeth graze him and he inhaled sharply. You pressed your teeth harder into the unyielding flesh. His hands pulled at you, finally molding your bodies together. The familiar longing tugged at Armand’s chest. He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your teeth. Though they were harmless, impotent, he felt a rush from your mouth on his neck to the base of his spine. You fisted more of his dark curls in your fingers as you bit down. His hand trailed down your neck, your arm, your side. He had both his hands on your hips, kneading steadily. You moaned. His strength was obvious, but he had tempered it, restrained it. You weren’t sure if you wanted his restraint.

As you slid your mouth down his neck, letting your teeth drag against him, you moved your hand to the small of his back. When you rolled your hips against him that fantastic ache surged in you again. You lifted your head and exhaled. You looked at him as you pulled your fingers out of his hair and rested your hand on his shoulder. His eyes had a mournful quality for a moment, then his countenance shifted and he began to guide you backward to the couch. For only an instant he had been disappointed that you were human, that you could not finish what you had started. He knew you had seen it, but he pushed it aside, choosing to revel in your warmth and mortality. Your calves hit the cushions, but he didn’t let you sit yet. He released you from his grip and stepped back. He raised one eyebrow.

You felt your face go hot as understanding dawned. Slowly, you removed your shirt, watching Armand’s face. You toed off your shoes and slid your pants off. As you stood in front of him, naked, a tendril of anticipation swept from your chest to your core. He took you in with a quick glance. The need in his veins had finally settled at the base of his cock. He began to unbutton his shirt as he stepped closer to you. You slipped your hands inside his open shirt and gently pushed it off his shoulders while he unfastened his belt and trousers. He let your fingers rove over his chest and stomach as he finished undressing. But the moment he was done, before you could catch more than a glimpse of his sculpted form, he crashed into you. Still not using his full strength, he pushed you back onto the sofa. He didn’t let you fall, you glided back, feeling nearly weightless. He wouldn’t hurt you, but what he had thought might not happen with a human was suddenly overwhelming.

Armand’s skin was cool against yours, but it felt amazing. Your hands roamed eagerly over his body as he kissed your neck, your shoulder, your chest. You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as he brushed his lips across your nipples. You could hear your heart pounding and fleetingly wondered what it might sound like to him. This thought was torn out of your mind when you felt his hand move between you. You groaned and bit your bottom lip as his fingers found the root of your arousal. The last few moments had passed so quickly that you had barely registered the increasing need you felt. But now your attention was focused on his fingers moving between your thighs, as well as the feeling of his cock, hard against your belly. His soft sighs were barely audible as he continued licking and kissing you. You ran your hand through his hair, drug your nails down his neck, and elicited a moan from him that vibrated through you. You pushed your hips against his hand and felt sudden, overwhelming urgency.

“Armand…” you said his name breathlessly.

“Yes?” The single word muffled by your skin against his mouth. You moaned quietly, summoning the courage to say it outright. You thought you felt him smile. Then his hand sped up and you fought the urge to beg. You could think of one thing and one thing only.

“Please,” there was a tinge of whininess in your voice, but only a little. You dropped your voice lower. “Please fuck me.”At this he looked up at you. His expressive face, curtained by his disheveled hair, fueled your need for him.

“As you wish,” he almost grinned.

When he moved his hand to your hip you felt disappointment tempered only by anticipation. You didn’t want him to stop. His touch was feather-light as he slid one hand behind your thigh. In the same fluid movement he sat up to kneel between your legs. Exhilaration rippled through your stomach. He held your gaze as he pursed his lips and slowly dripped spit into his upturned palm. You licked your lips and writhed involuntarily. Unhurried and languidly, he stroked his cock, his hand gliding easily along his length. Even in the dim light you could see the precum as he swiped his thumb across the tip. You seemed to lift your hips each time he slid his foreskin back. Armand watched you, enjoyed drawing out your need for a few more agonizing moments. He could be infinitely patient. You could not. Your human desire for him was as attractive to him as you, your body, your presence.

Armand’s eyes slowly moved down your body. It was excruciating. The wait was interminable. You wanted to put your hands on him again, to feel his skin on yours. You both watched as he moved his hand to you, fingers deftly finding their destination. You arched your back and your hands scrabbled to find purchase on the couch. A small smirk had crept onto his face. You barely noticed. He leaned forward and grazed the head of his cock between your legs. Your breath came in short pants. You desperately reached for him as he propped himself over you, one hand on the couch by your head, the other guiding himself into you.

Armand exhaled a soft grunt. You looked up at his face, caught his gaze just before he closed his eyes. He slid his hand across your hip and pulled your leg to his side. You almost held your breath as he hooked his arm behind your knee. He was focused entirely on the exquisite feeling of sliding into you. With preternatural control, he didn’t rush. You snaked a hand into his hair and pulled his mouth down onto yours. He quite enjoyed allowing you to move him around and your urgency was intoxicating. But he could be patient enough for you both.

“Oh god,” you moaned as you broke from the kiss. You didn’t open your eyes to look at him, all your senses were concentrated on how deep he was inside you. “You feel so good Armand. I… I want…”

“Yes, you want me to hurry,” he finished for you. He made a sound that was half amusement, half resignation. “Not yet.”

His slow strokes were intense, each one bringing him closer to being fully inside you. Your hands itched to grab his ass and pull his hips into yours, but it would have been futile. Instead, you tightened your hand in his hair and lifted your lips to his again. Your other hand stroked his chest and arm, his side, and up his back. As he slid into you again, his hips keeping a steady rhythm, you could barely kiss him, doing little more than holding your open mouth against his. You dropped your head back down and looked up at him. He was watching you. For the second time this night your face flooded with heat. You held his gaze and moved your hips in time with his., gauging his reaction. He knew better than to loose control with a human, but the captivating way you looked at him almost fractured his resolve. When his hips met yours again, he stopped and ground into you. A groan came from deep in your throat as you tilted your head back. Armand watched as your neck was bared to him, watched your pulse race. With more restraint than most, he kissed the hollow of your shoulder, moving up to the side of your neck. This slight motion pushed him deeper inside you. You panted and tried to roll your hips against him.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised, lips still pressed against your neck. Supporting himself on one hand, he slid the other between your bodies again. The first touch of his fingers was electrifying. Armand was enjoying your reactions immensely. Yes, you felt amazing around his cock, but bringing these sounds from your lips and these responses from your body did more to spur him on. His tempo increased in time with the movement of his hand. He kissed you higher up on your neck, lips passing over your ear, against your cheek. His long but quick strokes hit that spot, that delicious spot, that could bring you to the edge so easily. You could think of nothing but his cock and his hand. Even his mouth was nearly forgotten until he spoke.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek again. “You’re doing so very well.” You moaned beneath him, arching your back, trying to get there, but you didn’t quite know where there was. Then Armand paused, only for a beat, and thrust forward again, fully into you. Now he was relentless, not rough but quick, keeping metronomic time. Something you had never experienced with a human. He was controlled, determined, and truly enjoying himself. He felt you clench around him and groaned into your ear. You dug your fingers into any part of him you could find as the beginnings of your climax twisted at the point where he thrust into you so steadily, but so wonderfully.

“Cum for me,” he breathed. At first you weren’t sure you heard him, then his hand sped up and the crest of your building orgasm broke. You gasped his name, breathed curses into his dark, tangled curls, and gave into the overwhelming sensations. You tried to catch your breath, but Armand didn’t stop. He pushed through your orgasm, drawing it out until he felt your body begin to relax. You shuddered as he withdrew his hand. You were too far gone, too blissful, to notice at first that he had begun moving a bit faster. The sound of his skin against yours was lewd and fantastic. You were sure you couldn’t stand this overstimulation any longer when you felt his hips falter, slow, then stop. Armand groaned and buried his face in your neck as he slid his arm from under your leg.

Your hip felt like molten lead as you lowered your leg. You had a brief moment of near-delirium when you thought that such human problems would be long behind Armand now. You stifled your laughter with a deep breath. He raised his head to look at you. You smiled and caressed his cheek. Somehow he looked younger, more at peace for a moment. He pulled back slightly and you flinched at the renewed stimulation. You prepared yourself for the inevitable. Cautiously, watching as he did so, he pulled out and guided your leg to one side. As he lay down on the couch, you rolled over to make room for him. He pressed himself against the back of the sofa and pulled you into him. His arm was warm and heavy draped around your chest.

Armand sighed as you nestled your ass against him. He curled an arm under his head to make room for you and inhaled deeply. You scent was powerful now and it reminded him of your fragility all of a sudden. He cherished that even after all these years. That a human could draw such experiences from him continued to surprise him. He drew you slightly closer to his chest. You had no thoughts at all except the feeling of his body against your back, his arm around you. You wanted to say something, anything, but words would not come. You lifted his hand to your mouth, kissed it, then laid it back across your chest.

Masterlist

[jburrgf]

Hiii! I was wondering if you would write a fic about joe and the readers “first time” like in college!?🧡

right here!

King Of My Heart.

And all at once, you were the one i’ve been waiting for, king of my heart, body and soul.

pairing: joe burrow lsu boyfriend! x virgin girlfriend reader!

summary: lsu joeyb9, virgin girlfriend, older boyfriend x younger girlfriend, college couple, together to marry, smut with a lot (yes, a lot) of fluff.

description: after one year of relationship, you feel safe enough to have the most perfect night of your life with your boyfriend joe burrow.

The night air in Baton Rouge was thick and humid, as it often was this time of year. The LSU campus buzzed with excitement after another win, and as I stood on the balcony outside Joe’s apartment, I could hear the distant echoes of celebration. Laughter, music, and the occasional cheer from passing students filled the night air. Normally, the sound of victory would have lifted my spirits, but tonight, everything felt... different.

The truth was, tonight wasn’t just about LSU winning another game. It wasn’t about Joe’s performance on the field, though he’d been exceptional as usual. Tonight was about something else. Something I had been thinking about for weeks, maybe even months. My stomach twisted with a mix of excitement and nerves, knowing that tonight could be the night I gave Joe something I’d never given anyone else — myself.

I’d always been the kind of girl who believed in waiting. It wasn’t about following some strict set of rules or adhering to any expectations; it was about finding the right moment, with the right person. I’ve always said that I would wait until college, and here I am. I wanted my first time to be special, with someone who cared about me, someone who knew me in a way that went deeper than just the physical.

And Joe was that person.

He had been my best friend long before he became my boyfriend. We met on my first year of college, and his third one. I asked for transference when Joe came to play at LSU. Joe had been patient with me in ways I didn’t even know I needed—never pushing, always waiting.

Tonight felt like the culmination of all of that. But even so, I couldn’t help the nervous energy that buzzed through me.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced down at my hands, clutching the cool bottle of water I’d been holding for what felt like an eternity. My fingers were tight around it, betraying the tension I felt inside. I could hear Joe inside, rummaging through the fridge, probably making one of his famous post-game sandwiches. He had this thing where he could eat just about anything after a game — his appetite always amazed me.

I could picture him now, standing in front of the open fridge, his broad shoulders relaxed, his hair still damp from the quick shower he’d taken when we got back to the apartment. I smiled to myself. He had no idea what was running through my mind.

Another deep breath.

I turned and stepped back inside. The air-conditioned chill hit me immediately, contrasting with the muggy night outside. Joe was at the counter, just as I’d imagined, spreading mayo on a slice of bread, his brow furrowed in concentration like he was planning a play for the next big game.

He glanced up as I walked in, and his eyes softened. That was the thing about Joe — his eyes always softened when he looked at me, like I was the one thing in the world that could bring him peace. It had always been that way between us, even when we were kids. There was something so comforting about the way he saw me.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and familiar. He flashed me a small smile, then went back to his sandwich-making. “You hungry?”

I shook my head, a little smile of my own forming. “Not really.”

He looked up again, pausing this time. He could sense something in my voice, or maybe in the way I was standing there, lingering in the doorway like I didn’t know what to do with myself. Joe had always been good at reading me, even when I didn’t say anything. Especially when I didn’t say anything.

“You okay?” he asked, setting down the knife and turning to face me fully.

I felt my heartbeat pick up. This was it—the moment where I could either back out or go forward. I swallowed hard, my nerves dancing in the pit of my stomach. “Yeah,” I said, and then, before I could second-guess myself, I added, “I think I’m ready.”

Joe’s expression softened even more, but there was something else there too — surprise, maybe? Or was it understanding? His eyes searched mine for a long moment, and I could see the realization slowly settle in. He set down the bread and wiped his hands on a nearby dish towel, taking a step closer to me.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice gentle, like he didn’t want to push me in any direction I wasn’t ready to go.

I nodded, biting my bottom lip nervously. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t move at first. Instead, he just stood there, looking at me with those intense eyes of his, like he was trying to gauge every emotion I was feeling without me even saying a word. And in a way, he could. Joe knew me better than anyone. He knew my fears, my insecurities, my hopes.

Slowly, he reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. His touch was always so warm, so comforting. He led me over to the couch, sitting down beside me, his thumb tracing gentle circles over the back of my hand.

“We don’t have to rush this, Y/N,” he said softly. “We can wait.”

“I don’t want to wait,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Not anymore.”

His gaze never left mine, and I could see the love in his eyes, the way he was taking in every word I said. He reached up, cupping my face gently, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Okay,” he said quietly. “We’ll go slow. You’re in control, okay? Whatever you need.”

Those words—“whatever you need”—wrapped around me like a blanket, soothing the nervous energy that had been building up all night. Joe always knew how to make me feel safe, and in that moment, I knew without a doubt that I’d made the right choice. This was what I wanted.

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest of kisses. It wasn’t urgent or rushed, but tender, like he was letting me set the pace. I kissed him back, my fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his shirt as I pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, but it never lost that gentle, careful rhythm—Joe was making sure I felt every step of the way.

As his hand slid down to rest on my waist, I felt the warmth of his touch seep through the thin fabric of my dress, and my heart pounded in my chest. This was real, and I wanted it more than anything. I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all I saw was love.

“I’m ready,” I whispered again, and this time, I knew I meant it with every fiber of my being.

Joe smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I love you,” he said, and my heart swelled with the weight of those words. “And we’ll take this however you want, at your pace.”

With a deep breath, I nodded, and in that moment, the world outside faded away. It was just us, here in this quiet space we’d carved out together, and for the first time, I wasn’t afraid.

Joe stood up, taking my hand as we moved together toward his bedroom. The room was dimly lit, just the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows across the walls. It felt surreal—like the world outside had paused, and all that mattered now was the two of us. My heart was racing, and though my nerves were still there, they had settled into something else, something calmer. Maybe it was the way Joe was holding my hand, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles on my skin, or maybe it was the way he looked at me, like he saw only me and no one else.

He led me to the edge of the bed, and we stood there for a moment, facing each other. His eyes, those familiar deep blue eyes that had seen me at my worst and loved me still, held mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, his voice low and soft, giving me one last chance to back out if I wanted to.

I nodded, feeling a sense of certainty wash over me. “I’m sure, Joey. Please… I want this. I want you.”

A smile flickered across his lips as he reached up to gently cup my face, pulling me into a kiss that was sweet and unhurried. His lips moved against mine, soft and slow, like he was savoring every second, every touch. I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as I pressed closer. It wasn’t the first time we’d kissed like this, but tonight felt different—deeper. There was something unspoken between us, something that made each kiss, each touch, more meaningful.

As we kissed, Joe’s hands slid down my sides, his fingers brushing over the fabric of my dress. Slowly, he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “I will.”

With that, his hands moved to the hem of my dress, and he paused, his eyes meeting mine again, silently asking for permission. When I gave him a small nod, he gently lifted the dress over my head, leaving me in just my bra and underwear. The cool air hit my skin, and I shivered slightly, though it wasn’t from the cold. It was the weight of the moment, the way his eyes lingered on me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice full of awe, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks.

I’d never been in this position before, never had someone look at me like this. I suddenly felt vulnerable, exposed in a way I hadn’t anticipated. But Joe’s gaze wasn’t harsh or judgmental; it was soft, filled with love. He stepped closer, his hands settling on my waist, pulling me into another kiss. His touch was warm, grounding me, reminding me that this was Joey —my Joey. The boy who had known me since we were basically teenagers, who had always made me feel safe.

As we kissed, his hands moved up my back, fingers tracing the clasp of my bra. He paused again, looking into my eyes, silently asking if it was okay. I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest, but I nodded, giving him the go-ahead.

He unclasped it slowly, carefully, letting it fall to the floor between us. My breath caught in my throat as I stood there, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. Joe’s eyes never left mine, though, and I could see the love in them, the way he was making sure I was okay with every step.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, and I knew he meant it. Those words wrapped around me, calming the flutter of nerves in my stomach.

I reached for him then, my fingers gently tugging at the hem of his shirt, wanting to close the gap between us. He let me pull it off, and soon we were standing there together, bare in every sense of the word. But instead of feeling exposed, I felt... free. Like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Joe’s hands found mine again, and he pulled me gently down onto the bed. We lay there together, our bodies close but not rushing. There was no urgency, no need to move faster than we were ready for. Instead, we took our time, letting the moments stretch out between us.

He kissed me again, his lips soft and tender, and I kissed him back, feeling the heat between us grow. His hands moved over my skin, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of me. I shivered under his touch, a mix of anticipation and nerves swirling inside me. But there was also something else—something warm and steady.

Trust.

That’s what it came down to, I realized. I trusted Joe with every part of me. And that’s why I was ready.

His hand slid down to my hip, then lower, his fingers brushing against the edge of my underwear. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

I nodded, my voice catching in my throat. “Yeah... I’m okay.”

He kissed me again, and slowly, carefully, he slid my underwear down, his touch never faltering. I felt a rush of nervous excitement as the last barrier between us disappeared, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I could handle the intensity of it all. But then Joe was there, his hand on my cheek, his eyes holding mine, and I felt the fear slip away.

“We’ll go slow,” he promised again, his voice low and steady. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not ready for.”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. “I know. I trust you.”

With those words, I felt the last of my hesitation melt away. This was what I wanted. This was Joe. And I was ready.

He kissed me again, his lips soft against mine, and then his hands were on me, touching me in ways that made my heart race and my breath catch in my throat. It was slow, careful, every movement deliberate and filled with love. He didn’t rush, didn’t push. Instead, he let me set the pace, following my lead, making sure I was okay every step of the way.

As things progressed, the tension between us built, and I felt myself getting lost in the moment, in him. The world outside disappeared, and all that mattered was Joe and the way he made me feel—safe, loved, cherished.

I felt loved, I felt touched in a good way, in my soul. Joe's fingers were waging war on my skin, squeezing me and making me his. When I felt him between my legs, the world stopped. I was wet, I didn't need to hide it from him.

“My God” he stated, feeling the humidity. Joe let out a sigh, as if he was going to reach his peak right then and there. “Baby, you’re so wet…”

I moaned, loud and clear. Indeed, I was, as I had never been before. Joe had seen me naked several times, but nothing came close to this, what I was feeling now. He bent down between my legs, and when he started sucking me, I saw stars. I let out another moan, drawn out, begging to have him for myself. Not feeling him was killing me, even though I knew I had never had him like this.

He continued there for several moments, until I asked him to stop. My first orgasm of the night was in his mouth, and when my boyfriend knelt on the bed again, he was already hard. Totally petrified, sweaty and dying to fuck me.

Joe's dick was huge, and even though he didn't brag about it, it was true. I needed two hands to hold it from the base to the head. It was thick, but just the right amount. And it was literally pointed at me.

“You know what to do” he said, holding his cock by the base. I approached him little by little, kissing his red head as I looked at him. Joe groaned, and I automatically groaned too.

I did as much as I could, with my mouth, with my hands, and when I saw it, I was practically gushing. Joe noticed, and climbed up my legs soon after, laying down between them while bringing his hands to my neck. I groaned, feeling all my strength draining away.

I felt when Joe got ready to penetrate me. He played with me, passing his glans across my moist lips, while I moaned loud enough for all the neighbors to hear me.

The pressure was great, and initially, I could handle it. Joe didn't move until I nodded that he could. And when he did that, I saw stars. The pain was intense and excruciating, and he was moving so well that at a certain point I couldn't tell the difference between pain and pleasure.

“You’re doing so well, love” He commented, the moan leaving his lips. I moaned back “So hot, moaning for me.”

And I actually groaned again. My ‘apex, which came moments before, had become palpable to me. As Joe increased his thrusts, I saw the sky descend to earth, it was something magnificent.

When Joe threatened to go faster, I tried to run away. He held me by my waist, preventing any movement.

“I know, love,, I know.” He said, as if answering 'me. I groaned, because I knew he was serious. Joe went deeper inside me, and I gave another moan.

I couldn't stop moaning. I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't say anything. Joe, now moving faster, was moaning as much as I was. His pleasure makes me melt from head to toe.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” I didn't answer, but he knew it was true. “I’m not going to stop," he said, and in fact, he didn’t stop. Now, I couldn't move anymore. “so tight, beautiful…”

The phrase made me squirm again. Every word that came out of his mouth made me squirm. Joe was on top of me, all over my body, and it was driving me crazy. I couldn't even think straight.

“I’m going to cum.” He said, almost breathless. It only took a few movements for him to come out of me and leave his jets under my belly.

He was sweaty, his cheeks red, drops falling down his toned abdomen. Joe was simply the most beautiful man in the world.

I trapped my legs between him again and made him lie on top of me. I gave him a kiss, and when we pulled away again, I smiled.

“It made me hungry.” I commented with a smile

“I’ll cook something for you” Joe replied.

When we got up, Joe helped me to the bathroom. The shower we took together sealed the moment we had before. We went to the kitchen right away.

The kitchen was filled with the delicious scent of bacon sizzling in the pan, and Joe hummed softly to himself as he moved between the stove and the counter. I sat at the small table, watching him with a smile, my heart swelling with affection at how natural this all felt. Like we’d done this a hundred times before, even though this morning was the first of its kind.

Joe glanced over his shoulder at me, catching my eye. “You look awfully pleased with yourself,” he teased, his grin playful.

I laughed softly, resting my chin in my hand as I leaned on the table. “I’m just... happy,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks warm with the confession.

He turned off the stove and brought over two plates of food, setting them down in front of us before taking a seat beside me. “Me too,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere. He reached out, his fingers brushing over mine as he took my hand. “It was perfect.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, the warmth of his hand sending a familiar flutter through my chest. “It was,” I agreed softly, my thumb tracing slow circles on the back of his hand. “You made it perfect, Joe.”

His eyes softened, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go to pick up his fork. “Well, let’s see if I can keep the streak going with this food,” he said with a grin.

I laughed, my heart lighter than it had felt in a long time. As we ate, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and stolen glances. It felt like nothing had changed between us, but at the same time, everything had. There was a new kind of ease in the air, a quiet understanding that we had crossed into something deeper.

“Do you have practice today?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin as we finished our plates.

Joe leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head with a soft groan. “Yeah, I’ve got practice in a few hours,” he said, glancing at the clock. “But we’ve got some time before I need to head over.”

I nodded, feeling a small pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving, even though I knew it was just for a few hours. The time we’d spent together this morning had been so perfect, and I wasn’t ready for it to end just yet.

“Wanna hang out for a while before you go?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual even though I could feel my heart racing a little at the idea of spending more time with him.

Joe’s smile widened, and he reached across the table to take my hand again. “I’d love that.”

We spent the next couple of hours curled up on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background as we talked about everything and nothing. Joe had always been easy to talk to, but today it felt different—like there was a deeper connection between us now, a closeness that went beyond just words.

At one point, he pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist as I leaned back against him. His chin rested on my shoulder, and I could feel his breath warm against my neck as we sat there in comfortable silence. I had never felt more at peace, more content, than I did in that moment.

“I could get used to this,” I murmured, my fingers tracing the lines of his hand where it rested on my stomach.

Joe chuckled softly, his lips brushing against my ear. “Me too,” he whispered, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

We stayed like that until his phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the quiet. Joe sighed softly, shifting beneath me as he reached for it. “It’s Coach,” he said, glancing at the screen. “I’ve gotta head out soon.”

I nodded, trying to hide the disappointment I felt as I climbed off his lap. “I guess the real world is calling, huh?”

Joe stood up, stretching again before pulling me into a quick hug. “Yeah, but I’ll be back tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You can stay here if you want. Make yourself at home.”

I smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought of spending more time in his space, surrounded by his things. “I might just take you up on that.”

He grinned, his hands settling on my waist as he pulled me closer. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me again—slow, gentle, but full of the promise that this was only the beginning.

When Joe came back that evening, I was curled up on his bed with a book I’d found on his shelf, the smell of dinner wafting through the apartment. I’d decided to make us something simple—a pasta dish I knew we both liked—just to keep things light after the intense day we’d shared.

He walked into the bedroom, his hair still damp from the shower he must have taken after practice, and smiled when he saw me. “Hey,” he said softly, crossing the room to sit beside me on the bed.

“Hey,” I replied, setting the book down and turning to face him. “How was practice?”

“Not bad,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to my lips. “I missed you, though.”

I felt my cheeks warm at his words, and I smiled, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I missed you too.”

He looked over at the book I had set down, raising an eyebrow. “Reading one of my books, huh?”

I laughed softly, nodding. “I was bored, and your bookshelf was too tempting.”

Joe chuckled, his hand resting on my thigh as he leaned in closer. “You know, I’ve been thinking about today,” he said, his voice low and serious now.

My heart skipped a beat at his tone, and I looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of what was going through his mind. “Yeah? What about it?”

He sighed softly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my leg. “I just... I keep thinking about how lucky I am,” he said, his eyes meeting mine with a sincerity that took my breath away. “To have you. To be the one you trust.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away, my heart swelling with emotion. “Joe...”

“I’m serious,” he said, his hand moving up to cup my cheek. “You could’ve chosen anyone, Y/N. But you chose me. And I don’t take that lightly.”

I leaned into his touch, my heart aching with how much love I felt for him in that moment. “I chose you because you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “You make me feel safe, Joe. You make me feel loved.”

He smiled then, that soft, lopsided grin that always made my heart flutter. “I’m gonna keep doing that,” he murmured, his lips brushing over mine. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

I kissed him then, slow and sweet, pouring everything I felt into the simple gesture. When we pulled back, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the quiet space between us.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, my voice steady despite the emotion swirling inside me. “I’m yours, Joe.”

His arms wrapped around me then, pulling me into his chest as he held me close. We stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. It didn’t matter that the day had been long, or that practice had worn him out. In this moment, it was just us—together, safe, and completely in love.

He smiled then, his eyes softening as he leaned in to kiss me. It was a slow, lingering kiss, full of all the love and promises we had been building between us. When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips brushing over mine again. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[noira-l]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: You are falling into darkness and meaninglessness. Satoru refuses to let you do that.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of comfort, after 'premature death', after suguru deflection, describtion od depression, apathy, lost meaning in life, slight eating disorder, sleeplesness.

author's note: We finally get to see his softer side, though as is his fashion, he does it in his own way.

4 months after Suguru defected

"I know that the situation that happened has left its mark on you, however, you must not give up like this."

Yaga had been trying to reach you in his office for several minutes. To no avail. Your gaze was still blank, staring at a single point on his desk since you sat down, it didn't seem like you were present in any way.

Silence. You didn't answer anything. Just as you always do.

This is not your first meeting with your Sensei. Yaga has been trying to make his way to you for about a month.

A void in your head, so great and black that it swallowed you whole. Your body indifferent to every sense that reached you, you did not analyse it at all. If Satoru hadn't dragged you here, literally holding your hand and leading you, you wouldn't have come here at all. You didn't have the will or the strength for it.

Everything stopped at that moment. It ended. There was nothing left. Anything important and beautiful in your life was taken away from you by the terrible malice of fate. Your house burnt down. Your beloved had descended into madness. You no longer had anything to care about. Your entire past no longer mattered. Everyone is literally dead.

Even you died that day.

You wondered what was still alive.

Or at least that's how you explained it to yourself, unable to accept that the same person who promised you the world had just taken it away from you.

You were lifeless. It didn't take much to conclude that.

All that remained was a fragile, frail and empty shell of a person once filled with love, dreams and passion.

You no longer had the strength to cry, or to utter any words. If it wasn't for Shoko, you wouldn't even eat, and if it wasn't for Gojo, you probably wouldn't sleep.

You could smile altogether now. The world of jujutsu never broke you, the person you loved did. But you didn't, even though it crossed your mind.

What an honour to be the exception to the rule.

Yaga sighed leaning against his expensive chair.

"(Y/N)." he called out, though you didn't even flinch "I don't want you to end up like this. As your teacher, I recognises your self-doubt as his personal failure. The situation that has befallen you is a very difficult one and I understand that you would need time to get things back to normal."

He leaned towards you "However, in this world we live in, we cannot afford such a luxury." you knew his eyes were drilling into you.

"It has been more than four months. Your condition is not improving, only getting worse. At your request, I have specifically let you skip part of your training." you heard him grinding his teeth, but not out of anger, but out of helplessness "I'm doing my best not to send you on missions in this condition, because I know that even if something attacks you-" he paused.

-you won't even try to defend yourself.’ you finished for him in your head.

He was right, you knew it, and so did anyone who would just look at you. You lost a lot of weight, your skin turned pale got a shade of gray, and your eyes lacked their former spark.

You could see that Yaga, in that silence, couldn't find the right words. When he opened his mouth to say something, you finally muttered, pausing his speetch.

"But Sensei, you should…" you raised your gaze from the one point where it was cumulative to look the man deep in the eyes

"..let something finish me off. It's all meaningless anyway."

★ --

Yaga sat in his office, surrounded by a silence that seemed to deepen his worries. Outside the window, the rain drummed against the glass as if to wash the weight of anxiety from his soul, but it only deepened his sense of helplessness.

Your words, haunted him.

‘Let something finish me off. It's all meaningless anyway' constantly echoed in his mind, like a silent cry of despair that gave him no peace.

Never before had he seen such emptiness in someone's eyes - an emptiness that testified that all hope, all will to fight, had been sucked out of you.

He was incapable of seeing Geto Suguru roll into a similar spiral.

It was a failure that has pursued Yaga, reminding him of the fragility of the human mind.

You are reminder of that too.

Now he saw the same symptoms in your - empty eyes, unresponsive to sensory input, avoiding contact with others.

Every day when you came to training was like seeing a ghost moving among the living, unable to fully return to life. You was physically there, but you soul seemed to be elsewhere, trapped in a place you couldn't get out of.

In this state, Yaga knew he had to seek advice from others.

He must act. He will not make this mistake again.

You will not be a case to regret.

And he had a lot of them.

He was the first to go to Shoko. He met her in the corridor, as busy as ever with her work, locked in a world where medicine was everything.

"Shoko, have you tried to talk to her? Something about her condition?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. Shoko sighed, not stopping for a moment.

"I'm not good at such conversations." she replied briefly, looking at him fleetingly, as if those words would explain everything. Yaga knew that Shoko was doing as well as she could, but he also knew, that she was avoiding emotion like a fire. She couldn't help you in this battle that was going on inside. She was only capable of healing you on the outside.

The next stop was Nanami. Always serious, always composed, Nanami was someone who could be counted on in the most difficult of times. However, when Yaga asked him the same question, the answer was equally overwhelming.

"I understand what she is going through. I've tried to reach out to her, but… she's silent. I don't know how I can help her when she won't talk.’" there was a note of helplessness in Nanami's voice that had never been there before. Yaga knew that he sympathised with you, that he had tried, but that he himself could not break through this invisible barrier you had built around yourself.

Last was Satoru, always the enigmatic one, always full of contrasts. Yaga found him in one of the training rooms as he watched the younger students' classes.

"Satoru, did you talk to her?" he asked, knowing that Gojo was someone who could see more than others.

"I don't talk. I just sit by her when she's awake. That's all I can do." replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Yaga felt a mixture of relief and sadness upon hearing these words. Satoru, in his typical style, had found a way to be beside you, but even he, with all his unlimited potential, could not pull you out of your state.

★ --

3 weeks after Suguru defected

Gojo was initially not supposed to get so involved.

He kept repeating to himself that he wasn't good at such things, that he didn't know how to talk about such topics, couldn't find a solution for you or show you something he should.

Your storm you showed him that day left a mark in him. It awakened something in him. He couldn't deny it. He just kept living in the belief, that he wasn't capable of doing anything about it. He didn't feel that there was anything in him that he could offer to help you. He never knew what to say, he never knew what to do. He felt hopeless about it. Satoru was not the kind of person who makes the same mistakes twice or never learns from them.

He blamed himself for Suguru's departure. He felt that his corruption was his fault. His lack of attention, his lack of interest, his powerlessness - his failure to adapt to such situations.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, that was the reason he was born. It was what he was made for.

He was not made to come into contact with the problems of humanity, he was always above others, he never touched such topics. And now here you are. In front of him. You are showing him this.

You bring him closer to this subject, you prove to him that he, despite his title, is still human.

He feels exactly what you feel.

You are proof that the feelings he has inside him - make him human.

What ultimately made him abandon the idea of leaving the subject to himself was the sight of you. Soaking wet for long moments on the training field.

He saw you from a distance, as he walked with Shoko to class. He separated from her to letting her go ahead, saying he would catch up with her. The rain was dark and heavy. he didn't need an umbrella, so he walked throught it like was nothing. A white beam of light, walking throught the dark.

The sight of you, sitting on the training field with a bamboo sword, completely soaked - stuck in his mind. It was an image that spoke more than a thousand words. You were physically there, but spiritually you seemed to be far away, in a place where no words could reach you. Satoru, though usually full of energy and humour, this time simply walked up to you and without a word took your hand, pulling you out of the rain. You didn't even defy him as the force lifted your body and made you float slightly above the ground.

He sat you down in his room, giving you a towel to dry you off. Gojo left for a while, leaving you covered in towels and a warm blanket.

He quickly teleported to the kitchen, to brew a mug of warm tea for you. He waited patiently for the kettle to boil the water, tapping his fingers against the kitchen counter in thoughtfulness. He thought about bringing Shoko to you, as you might have caught a cold. Suguru had mentioned that you catch such colds quite easily.

As he moved back, he set his mug down on his notebook-cluttered desk and looked at you. You stood at the window, watching the rain that had kept the world quiet all day today.

"Why the rain?" he asked, trying to strike up a conversation. You did not answer immediately, still staring at the raindrops reflecting on the window.

After a moment, you raised your gaze, looking at him with a blank stare. "Because the rain is clean. It washes everything away. Maybe if I stood there long enough, it would wash me away too." Satoru felt his heart squeeze with pain at those words, but he didn't allow himself to have any emotional outbursts.

You sat like this for a long time, he beside you, looking out at the rain. In the silence that surrounded, he could feel how devastated you were, how much you had lost the will to live. He knew that these feelings would not disappear overnight. He was aware of that.

So from that moment on, Satoru implemented a plan that seemed strange and effective, exactly his style.

★ --

1 month after Suguru defected

The first month was a time of anticipation and patience for Satoru.

When he first entered your room, he felt the dense atmosphere almost overwhelm him. The quiet, enclosed room seemed as if trapped in time. You were sitting on the bed, your back turned to the door, shoulders tense. It was clear that your thoughts were far away.

Satoru closed the door behind him, then took a seat against the wall, far away from you, right next to the door. He sat down on the floor, pulled his gameboy out of his pocket and began to play, pretending it was a normal everyday situation.

At first you did not even look at him. Your gaze remained fixed on one point, as if you were trying to find a meaning in it that you could not find anywhere else. Satoru, however, was not bothered by this silence. He concentrated on the game, allowing you to get used to his presence while giving you space. Managing the space was his special skill.

Every day he would spend a few dozen minutes in your room, sometimes playing, sometimes bringing something to eat with him. Often he would sit there with a meal in his hand, eating slowly, and the sounds of munching were the only sounds in the room. He never tried to get you to talk, knowing that your personal space was crucial at that moment.

★ --

2 months after Suguru defected

The second month brought slight changes. Satoru, feeling that your reactions to his presence had become more bearable, decided to get closer.

Instead of sitting on the floor by the door, he took a seat in the chair by your desk, which stood slightly closer to the bed. When he entered the room, you looked at him - that was a success! Noticing change in his behaviour, but you took a quick glance at him, so he couldn't be happier. He passed you a small smile, that was a welcoming greeting.

Satoru stretched out comfortably in a chair, pulled out a book and began to read. Occasionally he would reach for his headphones to turn on some music for himself, shutting himself off from the world but still being there, at arm's length, if you need him.

There were days when he couldn't concentrate on reading, so he would just sit, watching you out of the corner of his eye. As time went on, he began to notice that you would sometimes glance at him, as if trying to understand why he came here almost everyday that was free for him, even though you didn't exchange a word with each other. Even when he was busy, your room was the first stop when he came back from any mission.

★ --

3 months after Suguru defected

In the third month, Satoru felt he could risk the next step.

When he walked into your room one day, instead of sitting in a chair, he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He felt your body tighten as soon as he sat down, but you didn't move away or ask him to leave. This was the sign he had been waiting for.

He pulled out his gameboy, fired up the game and started playing, sitting next to you. For a while, the silence was almost overwhelming, but as time passed, the atmosphere began to relax. Satoru noticed that although you still didn't speak, your presence had become somewhat more conscious.

He started bringing you food when Shoko couldn't. He felt that when he brought you something, you were more eager to glance at it. And you even took a bite of the sweet roll he left with you one day.

There were also moments when you started to move, as if you wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat. Satoru did not push. He felt that these small gestures were a sign of progress.

★ --

4 months after Suguru defected

In the last month of this silent coexistence, Satoru decided to go all in.

When he entered your room, he didn't stop at the door or the chair. He immediately headed for the bed and lay down beside you without a word. He felt you body stiffen at first, but after a while you relaxed, accepting his presence. This was so strange, but so.. welcoming.

Both of you lay side by side, arms barely touching, but it was enough.

Satoru pulled out his mp3 player, turned on quiet music and placed it between you two, letting the soft sounds fill the silence. He watched the ceiling, occasionally glancing up to look at your face. The sight of it, now devoid of such deep pain as it had been in the beginning, made him relieved. He knew that your emotional state was still fragile, but he was sure that his presence was helping you in some way. You were helping him too, he just couldn't say that to you.

His presence in your room become such a small tradition, which he often looked forward to. Besides your dorm was a good escape for him, when he was looking for, there was never any thought that he could be at your place.

One day, as both you lay like this, you gently turned towards him and looked at him with a slightly softer expression on your tired face. You didn't need to say anything - your gaze said more than words.

Satoru smiled slightly at you, then closed his eyes, feeling that you had reached a state of understanding that was only possible through months of patience and perseverance.

He was content, that he could see your eyes weren't so empty or full of tears. That was a breakthrought, that he was so eager to welcome.

★ --

4 and a half months after Suguru defected

Satoru has not visited you for a week.

You knew he was back from a mission, because Shoko bringing you food mentioned it. She also said that it had been a long and exhausting one, on which they had sent him alone, with no support from even specialists.

It was already very late in the night, you had been waiting for him for a long time, and yet he had not come.

For the first time since moths, you got out of bed by yourself.

You poked your head out, to see if the light in his room was on, it still was. You were overwhelmed by a strange feeling, that you could not quite describe. You wondered what the reason was for breaking this little tradition you shared between the two of you.

You came to the conclusion, that he probably needed the space himself and was just using it. Although this seemed to you to be completely unsuitable for a person you came to know. Should you do something about this fact? You nervously bit your nail.

What if he now needs the same treatment that he used to give you? What if he just needs to be alone?

A conflict arose in your mind. You didn't know what to do, how to behave. You felt a little stressed as you slowly sat back down on the bed.

What should you do?

Your decision was made, when your foot visited the kitchens for the first time in months to brew a tea for him.

All you could hear in the quiet corridor was the soft creaking of the floor, as you approached the door of his room. The wooden gates were slightly open, as if Gojo didn't have the strength to close them fully. You carefully pushed it open with your hand, peering inside.

Satoru was lying on the bed, with his arms spread, as if the weight of the world was crushing him to the mattress. His white hair, always so perfectly styled, were a mess. Fortunately, he had managed to change into his pyjamas. There was an expression of extreme fatigue on his face, but when he heard quiet footsteps, he lifted his eyelids.

Your gazes met. You gently closed the door behind you, then stepped deeper into the room, setting your mug of warm drink down on the desk. Just as he had done this to you one time. Your limbs tremble slightly from the cold. Going to the kitchen in just your pyjamas and flip-flops at this time of year was a stupid idea.

You didn't exchange a word with each other. You blandly started playing with the sleeve of your nightshirt. You didn't need words to understand how tired he was, the slight bags under his eyes and messy look told you all you needed to know.

He changed positions on the bed, moving more towards the wall, grabbed a corner of the duvet and lifted it up. He made an inviting gesture with his head and his slightly glowing eyes went out.

You sat on the edge of the bed first. Feeling a little on unfamiliar ground. You had only been in his room a couple of times. The main place for you to hang out as a group was Suguru's room. Immediately you felt the warmth emanating from the sheets.

With a slow movement you lay down next to him, letting the warmth of the duvet and his scent greet you. The mattress bent slightly under you weight, as you turned to face him. You could feel how soft and molded his mattress was, how his pillow was pleasantly arranged. Your body slowly began to warm, heat waves spreading through your body, soothing your mind and dulling your senses. The air around you was warm, enveloping, and his presence added a strange sense of security that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You could feel your body relaxing more and more with each breath. You could hear the calm rhythm of his breathing, which worked on like a lullaby. You were so warm, not only physically, but also internally, as if this place, this moment, was exactly where you were supposed to be.

You slowly closed your eyes, feeling sleep begin to embrace you with it's softness. The thoughts that had been swirling around in your head just moments before, began to quiet down, giving a way to a blissful emptiness. The warmth of his body and regular breathing were like an focus points that, allowed you to pull your head away from your worries and sink into a peaceful sleep.

Finally, you allowed yourself to fully surrender to the moment. You fell asleep, with his hand still gently resting on your waist, in a place that seemed the safest in the world.

★ --

Satoru slowly opened his eyes, feeling the soft rays of the sun on his face. For a while he lay still, savoring the quiet of the morning and the warmth that beat from the body, cuddled into his. You were sleeping peacefully, your breathing was steady and deep, and face expressed the kind of calm he hadn't seen in you in a long time. He smiled slightly, pleased that you could finally truly rest.

He didn't want to wake you, but he knew the day was calling him. He shifted cautiously, reaching for the phone that lay on the bedside table. For a moment, he pondered how to play it, but quickly decided that the only person he could ask to do it - was Shoko.

you: "Take care of everything today? Thanks. >ᴗ<"

7:43 am

Sent a message, not waiting for a respond, he put the phone aside, before turning back to you.

He glanced at your face once more. You looked so peaceful, as if for a moment you had forgotten everything that had overwhelmed you for months.

Gojo gently ran his fingers through your hair, trying not to wake you up. He smiled, seeing how you moved slightly in his arms, as if you instinctively knew he was there.

He was so proud of himself, the sight of your sincere rest soothed his heart somehow. Thanks to him, you were finally able to rest. He felt satisfaction and contentment at the thought. He finally didn't feel so helpless and powerless. He felt that he had just done something, that at least one person, by some screwed up luck, had managed to be saved by him.

With a slight sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into sleep again. He knew that he didn't have to rush anywhere, that this was a day they could spend relaxing, even if he had responsibilities and pressures on him, at this point he totally didn't give a damn. He fell asleep quickly, holding you close to him, enjoying the moment of comfort you brought to him as well.

You two slept all day, cuddled up to each other in warm cozy embrace.

With the peace and quiet you finally rested, as you both deserved.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl (open): @kalopsia-flaneur

[awkward-walking-potato]

Heyo! I love how you write stories with Logan with animals because they’re so beautiful!! I was wondering if you’d write another one please? The reader is a shy mutant with nature powers (grow all kinds of flora, manipulate the elements, live harmonious with any kind of animal), she’s basically like Mother Nature. She has a big secret place where she often goes to. She created it to keep all kind of creatures save from humans and mutants, especially exotic ones, and are very dear to her. He tried to follow her once, but others cannot find the place except for her or if she allows them in. One day, she wants to show it to him and have him meet her family and one of her oldest family members, a gigantic dragon. The dragon is quite intelligent and doesn’t seem impressed nor does he seem to like Logan and constantly tries to kindly kill him/play pranks on him whenever she’s not looking (e.g. pushing him into a pool of mud, taking up all her attention for him, etc.). You can also add Wade to the story if you want to. Thank you so so much and hope you’ve a beautiful day!! 💙

The hidden Sanctuary

Wolverine had always been a lone wolf. Even as part of the X-Men, he kept to himself, preferred the company of silence, and embraced the solace of solitude. But there was something about Y/N that intrigued him. Maybe it was her shyness or the way she melted into the background, rarely speaking unless spoken to, or perhaps it was the powerful, almost mystical energy that seemed to ripple off her in waves whenever she was around nature. Whatever it was, Logan found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Y/N was a mutant with powers unlike any he’d seen before. She could grow entire forests with a wave of her hand, manipulate the elements like it was second nature, and animals of all kinds flocked to her as if she were Mother Nature herself. Logan had seen her turn a desolate wasteland into a thriving ecosystem in seconds, and yet, she remained so modest about her abilities.

He had tried to follow her once when she snuck out of the mansion, curious as to where she went when she thought no one was watching. But no matter how closely he trailed her, she always managed to lose him, disappearing into the forest like a whisper on the wind.

Eventually, he let it go. If she wanted to keep her secrets, he wouldn’t pry… too much. But the more time they spent together, the more Logan found himself wanting to know everything about her. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe, and though he’d never admit it out loud, he wanted her to trust him enough to let him in.

One evening, as they sat on the mansion’s roof, watching the sunset, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of anxiety and excitement. “Logan, I… I want to show you something. It’s important to me, but you have to promise not to tell anyone about it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden openness. “You know you can trust me, darlin’. I won’t say a word.”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Okay… follow me.”

The journey was long and winding. They traveled deep into the forest, far from the mansion and any sign of civilization. The trees grew denser, the air richer with the scent of pine and earth. Logan stayed close, his senses on high alert, but Y/N moved with a confidence that made him feel oddly at ease.

After what felt like hours, she stopped in front of a large, ancient tree with sprawling roots. She placed a hand on the bark and whispered something he couldn’t make out. To Logan’s astonishment, the tree seemed to shimmer before it slowly began to part, revealing a hidden pathway bathed in golden light.

“This way,” she said softly, taking his hand and leading him through the opening.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as they stepped into a paradise beyond imagination. It was a hidden sanctuary, a place untouched by the modern world. Lush, vibrant plants of every color covered the ground, towering trees stretched high into the sky, their branches heavy with fruit, and a crystal-clear waterfall cascaded into a sparkling pool surrounded by delicate flowers.

Exotic creatures roamed freely, some so rare that Logan had only heard about them in legends. There were unicorns grazing by the water’s edge, phoenixes perched in the trees, and even a small family of griffins playfully wrestling in the distance.

“This… this is incredible,” Logan breathed, his voice laced with awe.

Y/N smiled shyly, a blush coloring her cheeks. “This is my sanctuary, a place where all creatures, mutant or otherwise, can live in peace. I’ve spent years creating and protecting it. It’s… it’s my home.”

As they walked deeper into the sanctuary, Logan couldn’t help but notice the way the animals greeted Y/N as if she were their queen. She interacted with them lovingly, whispering words of comfort, stroking their fur, and laughing when they nuzzled her affectionately.

But then, they reached a clearing, and Logan’s senses immediately went on high alert. A massive shadow passed overhead, and he looked up just in time to see a gigantic dragon circling above them, its scales shimmering in the sunlight.

The dragon landed with a thud, the ground shaking beneath its weight. It was an ancient, majestic creature with eyes that glowed like molten gold, and it was staring directly at Logan.

“Logan, this is Drakon. He’s one of my oldest friends,” Y/N said, her voice filled with affection as she approached the dragon without a hint of fear. “He’s been protecting this place for centuries.”

Logan nodded, trying to keep his cool, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Drakon was sizing him up, and not in a friendly way.

“Nice to meet you,” Logan said gruffly, extending a hand. The dragon huffed, a plume of smoke curling from its nostrils, clearly unimpressed.

Y/N laughed, completely oblivious to the tension. “He’s just being protective. Drakon, Logan is my friend. You can trust him.”

The dragon narrowed its eyes, but finally gave a reluctant nod. Still, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that the dragon didn’t like him very much.

Over the next few hours, Y/N showed Logan around the sanctuary, introducing him to all the creatures and explaining how she had come to find and protect them. Logan listened intently, more captivated by her passion and love for this place than the creatures themselves.

But every time Y/N turned her back, Drakon would make his displeasure known. The dragon would nudge Logan toward a pool of mud, causing him to stumble and fall face-first into the muck, or he’d suddenly swoop down to land between Logan and Y/N, cutting him off and demanding all of her attention.

At one point, Drakon even “accidentally” knocked Logan off a ledge into a thorny bush, earning a surprised laugh from Y/N when she turned around to see Logan tangled in the branches.

“You alright, Logan?” she asked, rushing over to help him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Logan grumbled, glaring up at the dragon, who looked away innocently, a satisfied smirk in its golden eyes.

Logan wasn’t easily intimidated, but this dragon was really starting to get on his nerves.

As the sun began to set, Y/N and Logan sat by the edge of the pool, watching the sky turn shades of pink and orange. Drakon rested nearby, keeping a watchful eye on Logan, though he pretended to be dozing.

“I’m glad you brought me here, Y/N,” Logan said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “This place… it’s a part of you. I can see why you wanted to protect it.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve wanted to show you for a while now. I trust you, Logan. I know you’d never hurt this place or the creatures here.”

Logan felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’. I’ll protect it just like you do.”

They sat in contented silence for a few more moments, but then a voice broke through the peaceful atmosphere.

“Hey, lovebirds! Mind if I join the cuddle fest?”

Logan groaned as Deadpool suddenly appeared from behind a tree, his red and black suit standing out starkly against the natural beauty of the sanctuary.

“What the hell are you doing here, Wade?” Logan growled, his patience wearing thin.

“Oh, you know, just following you guys. Figured you’d need a chaperone. And what do I find? A magical Disney wonderland! Seriously, you guys have been holding out on me!” Deadpool exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the sanctuary.

Before Logan could retort, Drakon let out a deep growl, his eyes narrowing at Deadpool. “Oh, big guy, relax! I’m just here for the hugs and maybe to steal a unicorn for my apartment.”

The dragon let out a jet of flame that narrowly missed Deadpool’s head, causing him to dive for cover behind a boulder. “Yikes! Tough crowd! Guess I’ll stick to pestering Wolverine.”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, I think we’ve got enough trouble with the dragon. We don’t need him making it worse.”

Y/N giggled, watching as Drakon continued to eye Deadpool suspiciously. “I think Drakon likes you more than Wade, at least.”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, well, I’ll take what I can get.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sanctuary glowing in the soft light of twilight, Logan realized that, despite the dragon’s antics and Deadpool’s unwelcome appearance, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. Here, in this hidden sanctuary, with Y/N by his side, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d find a way to get along with that damn dragon too… as long as it stopped trying to push him into the mud.

As Logan and Y/N prepared to leave the sanctuary, Wadw trailed behind them, trying to coax a reluctant phoenix into his backpack. Drakon, still suspicious, hovered nearby, ready to intervene if necessary.

“Come on, little birdie, you know you want to—ow! Okay, okay, no stealing the mystical creatures,” Deadpool muttered, nursing a singed hand.

[dreamerdrop]

Julian does kind of strike me as someone who just sort of. Endures suffering and then pushes it way, way down and pretends it doesn’t hurt.

Bad things happen and he just sits quietly and then pushes it down and pretends he’s okay so he can get on with whatever he needs to get on with.

Doesn’t know how to process trauma or misery inside himself, but he can help other people with theirs, so he just. Keeps going. Keeps working. Keeps trying.

It makes sense, I mean, the pivotal traumatic incident in his life was one he has never been allowed to even allude to out of fear. His parents don’t seem very emotionally available for him either, so he’s definitely never talked out those issues with them. So he’s probably just grown up pushing any off feelings back down and focusing on something else.

And even when his big ol secret is finally out, he still doesn’t really talk about it or acknlowedge it unless someone basically drags him kicking and screaming into having to focus on it. He never really talks about or addresses like. Anything.

Like his attempts at curing the blight and how fucked up he was over that. Or the time he thought he could save the Jem’Hadar from their ketracel white addiction. (And boy howdy does that episode take on new layers of pain when you think about him being so sympathetic to entities that were genetically engineered to suffer and his own backstory.) Surviving a psychic attack that basically involved his own subconscious mind trying to talk him into embracing death. A month in a prison camp where he probably definitely thought he was going to just die there, and then realizing no one knew he was gone, and his friends are not anywhere near disturbed enough by any of what just happened.

(To be clear, I think it’s fine that they didn’t realise it was a changeling. I think the reaction they have when they find out retroactively, however, is like. Guys. A minute ago you thought Julian Bashir, your close friend of several years, beloved station doctor, had betrayed the federation and had to be killed. Guys. Forget Julian for a second. How was this not traumatic for the rest of you?)

Then there’s all of that Sloan fuckery which is basically just three episodes of one man trying to gaslight Julian into a dissociative break for reasons.

And he just. Bounces back. Next episode, time to move on, insists he’s totally fine. Except he’s not. He gets gradually more and more tired and miserable and closed off but he just. Never fucking talks about it to anyone. Never deals with how messed up he’s slowly becoming. Never recovers. Never heals. Never gets closure for any of it.

He has so many wonderful moments where he comforts someone else when they break, when they’re scared, when they let all the bad stuff finally make them collapse.

But Julian just never really collapses like that, and it’s like he actively ensures he will never have the chance to collapse because he doesn't want to (and probably doesn’t know how to) deal with any of his issues.

Can you imagine what it would look like when he finally breaks.

[fraugwinska]

Ok so it’s going to be my birthday tomorrow and your the best writer I know that can do fluff so please for me do an alastor x reader birthday fic. Can be romantic and fluffy and do not rush it. Take all the time you need. Thank you

Happy Belated Birthday, my darling @alastor-simp! <3 I wanted to publish it on your special day, but it wasn't ready then and I didn't want to deliver something sub-par - But here you go! <3 I hope you had a wonderful day and this little gift brings a smile to your face! And thank you for always making me smile with your interactions! <3

You shuffled in the darkness, sheets clinging to your thighs and entangling in between your arms. Hell's summer nights, not unlike those on earth, were hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. But it wasn't the heat or the stickiness of your skin that woke you.

Tiredly you blinked, trying to focus your eyes to make the room at least a little more visible. There was the typical static noise that always buzzed around Alastor's and your room - something you grew so accustomed to that you weren't able to fall asleep without it anymore. But there was another sound, barely audible, coming from the other side of the bed.

"Al? " You murmured sleepily. He wasn't next to you as he usually was. You had become so accustomed to having him curled around you like a cat, that sleeping alone was a rare and unwelcome thing.

"I didn't mean to wake you yet. Ignore me, dearest, do continue sleeping." He replied with a small smile. Alastor sat by the open window, curtains drawn and only his silhouette visible against the purple and pinkish glow of the Pentagram's eerie moonlight.

"Mmh... are you okay? What are you doing?" You groggily sat up, the covers falling away and exposing the bare skin of your chest to the nightly air. You couldn't make out his expression, but his voice sounded smooth and a little husky from sleep.

"Waiting." He answered simply.

You knew better than to ask him what he was waiting for - there was a reason you and him quickly became 'an item' as Angel loved to tell anyone who'd want to hear it. A couple, Charlie said, though it sounded too mundane to you. Partners was the word you and Alastor agreed on. It was a complex term to describe your relationship with the overlord - he was your equal, your friend and lover and the one person who could truly understand you and vice versa. He was your home.

You stood from the bed and shuffled your feet to his side. You didn't feel any discomfort walking practically naked through the room - after all, it was hot as hell (pun intended), every bit of clothing would've just added to the unbearable heat. And who'd be watching anyway except for Alastor, who had basically mapped out your entire body more than just once?

Alastor shifted on the wide windowsill, making a space for you to sit in his lap. You settled your back comfortably against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin and began to gently caress the arms that instinctively wrapped around you. The nightlife of Pentagram City illuminated the streets below you, there were faint sounds of honking cars, small booms from ongoing turf wars and a steady buzz of voices filling the air - the night was the most lively part of a hellish daycycle for most sinners. In the distance the Heaven's Embassy tower stood prominently erect, counting down the days until the next extermination right below the clock, indicating it was just five minutes before midnight.

"I will wait with you." You murmured, closing your eyes again and relaxing completely in his hold. You wanted to give him the same sense of security that he provided you with, even if all you could do was keep him company.

"You don't know what we'll be waiting for, my love." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't have to." You replied. Alastor chuckled. He leaned down to kiss your neck softly and you tilted your head in order to give him more way. "I'll always be here, with you, when you need me." You added.

There was a moment of silence as Alastor held you close. Your breathing evened out again, your hands slowly falling from his arms. Your head rolled onto his shoulder and your chest rose and fell gently in a calm, hypnotizing rhythm. Alastor sighed in contempt while you were fighting the sleep, humming now and again to keep yourself awake.

The clock ticked, the volume of the noises outside rose and fell in an ever changing pattern. He waited, his eyes fixed on the fingers of the clock, his hands absentmindedly combing through the silky lengths of your hair.

It was a minute to midnight.

He could smell it in the air. The magic, the static, the energy. His shadow came to his side, a quick nod confirming that everything was in place.

Alastor turned his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as the clock struck midnight and he whispered.

"Happy Birthday, my darling."

Your eyes fluttered open, you were almost drifted back to sleep when his words reached you and you tried to turn in his arms, but Alastor kept you firmly in place, chuckling at your tired movement. You turned your head back and craned your neck, looking up at him, confused.

"What did you say?"

"Shhhh, love. No questions for now, just listen."

The streets below were suddenly silent, the constant noises stopped abruptly, as if someone had shut them off with a remote control.

You heard a soft melody, like a music box's tune, rising through the window. It was familiar, a song you've heard many times before, and each time it reminded you that it was your favorite.

"Darling, close your eyes." Alastor instructed.

"Why?"

"Come now, dear, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then just do as I say, and close your eyes."

And you did as you were told. A shiver ran through your body when the world was suddenly covered in darkness, sleep no longer on your mind - you were suddenly wide awake.

Alastor let go of you, gently helping you to your feet, taking your hand in his and leading you through the bedroom. The melody got louder as you neared the balcony door and you had a strange feeling that Alastor had something everything to do with it.

When you stepped outside, the wind brushed past your naked form and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Your grip tightened on Alastor's hand and his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of your hand.

"Keep your eyes closed." Alastor instructed, his hand leaving yours. You felt him move away from you, his warm body no longer a support, and you instinctively reached your hand forward to try and catch him, but you only grasped air.

"Trust me."

You heard the static buzz around you. Alastor was using his powers.

The next moment you felt a soft material wrapping itself around you, the texture of the fabric unfamiliar, but comforting and incredibly soft.

"May I open my eyes?" You asked, a smile on your lips as you guessed his answer.

"Not yet." Alastor's voice was behind you, he was still oozing magic, the energy crackling and fizzing around you. The material tightened around your form and you had an inkling of what it was that he conjured for you.

"Well then, darling. Now, you may look."

You opened your eyes.

Standing in front of you, his red eyes shining bright with excitement, was your partner, your equal, your best friend. His signature suit was replaced with a black, silky dress shirt, a matching bow tie around his neck, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his pants and shoes changed to a darker shade of the same material.

"Wow, you look incredible." You breathed, admiring him in his new attire.

"I am flattered, my dear. But I think you're the one who truly outshines the stars tonight."

You glanced down.

It was a dress, as you suspected. The same style as his, a silky black fabric falling in gentle folds around your calves, delicate lace trimming the hem. It was cinched at the waist, a dark bow tied in the front, the ends of the bow floating down your front. It was the perfect size, not too loose or tight, fitted to your form and hugging you in all the right places, the fabric indescribably cool and soothing on your heated skin.

You were stunned.

"It's... amazing, Alastor, but... What's the occasion?" You asked, still a little dumbfounded.

"Something I've been preparing for for the longest time, my darling." He stepped towards you, a hand stretched out to you which you took without a second thought. He smiled at the undisputed trust, at the instinctiveness of your every move towards him. "Today, my love, is your birthday."

Your eyes widened and a small gasp left your lips. "My... my birthday? How did you..."

"Yes, my love." He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. "I cannot restore your memories, but I vowed to gift you at least some parts of your life, if I were able to."

You looked up at him, and his smile widened at the adoration and admiration in your gaze. You couldn't recall anything from your life above, a blank slate waking up in hell, and you only shared how miserable and sad you were about that fact with Alastor when things got serious. He was the only one who knew how lost you felt, how the feeling of a missing identity made you restless and frustrated. You remembered the first time you two talked about it, the look on his face as he realized just how much trust you were putting into him by telling him the truth. Back then, his smile had been laced with incredulity, his disbelief strangely making his face look softer and kinder, more approachable. But in the weeks and months after, when he understood the seriousness behind your words, how much at least having some knowledge of your past life - however vague or unknown it would be - meant to you, this disbelief was replaced first by sympathy, and after a while determination.

Determination, apparently, to figure out a way to find and bring some of those memories back to you. And now he was here, dressed to the nines in the middle of the night, revealing that he had managed to find a significant one - your birthday. Handing it to you as a gift, right when the clock struck to begin it.

"My darling?" Alastor tilted his head, catching your attention. "Is everything alright?"

You didn't answer. How he found it out? No clue. How long did he know? Didn't matter. Did he find anything else? Didn't care. He had brought to light something you gave up on having so long ago, something so meaningful to you, that in that moment you couldn't find the words to express it in a satisfactory manner. You moved forward instead, arms rising to circle around his neck and using your own, meager powers to levitate yourself to bring his lips as close to yours as possible and his grin grew wider in response.

Alastor laughed and licked your lower lip playfully. "I take that as a yes."

And his lips finally met yours. The kiss was slow and gentle, no hurried movements or demands of any kind. Alastor could be a selfish partner, especially in taking claim over you. But not today, not right now he wasn't. He was only giving, not taking. Pouring every ounce of feeling he had towards you - impish joy and mischievous happiness and passionate desire and cocky pride - back into you, transferred through gentle swipes of his tongue against yours and wistful sighs that felt cool against your lips. It was a rare display that you weren't the only one that trusted their partner wholeheartedly - Alastor surrenderred to you willigly, gladly, and it weighted on your heart even more than the actual gift he intended for you.

When you broke away from the kiss you could swear there were sparks visible flying between you and him. Your breaths mingled as your foreheads rested against the other's, and you took the moment to collect yourself and speak.

"I have no idea how you did it, Al, or if I even want to know, but this is... Incredible. Thank you." You purred, nuzzling his nose affectionately.

"Of course, I am quite impressive, my love. But we are far from done." Gently, his long fingers gripped your chin as he pushed you away a little, encouraging you to open your eyes. His smile was a little wild at the edges and his eyes glowed with an excitement that promised mischief and thrill. You've seen this look before.

"Come now, darling. If we're to celebrate your most important day, we might as well make the most of it." He pulled you into a dance, your favorite song playing from within him - the perks of being the Radio Demon. You felt your dress gliding over your legs in smooth waves, and the soft fabric of his shirt under your fingertips as he swung you into another turn. With your past being his present, you thought, the real gift was a future with Alastor by your side.

And this future would be worth sacrificing your memories all over again.

[catnippackets]

disclaimer: as a sex-repulsed aroace person myself--

on one hand, there is definitely a bit of a double standard when it comes to handling canonically queer characters like, from what I've seen in the circles that I frequent (if you've had different experiences then great but I'm just telling it how I see it). for example, you're morally reprehensible if you ship a canon lesbian with a man or refer to a canon bi character as a lesbian. people will be so angry with you. and it's understandable, since there's so little queer rep in comparison to cishet rep that when there IS a rare actual queer character, the unofficial rule is "don't take that away from them when you add more headcanons to them". like, respect that this one is REAL and NOT just a headcanon. I think it makes perfect sense to feel upset when people take that away, even if it is just fiction and not even canon to the original source. and yet, whenever there exists a canon asexual character suddenly it's all "oh well asexual people can still have sex so it's fine if we headcanon THIS canon sexuality as something different". it makes me feel so genuinely heartache-y and depressed to see ppl ignoring that aspect of a character.

and by "canon" I'm also including characters that were never specifically referred to with a label but are very obviously coded as something, because those characters will still get the "even if it's not stated it's pretty obvious!!" treatment when it comes to showing attraction to the same gender, but not when they DON'T show attraction to any gender. like aro and/or ace coding just doesn't count. I understand that it's kind of hard to represent an absence of something, especially when you're only implying it and not even directly showing it, but it's not impossible. there's a lot of characters that you could argue are aroace coded the same way you could argue a character is gay coded. obviously to a degree every queer identity gets disrespected in fandom and it's something you just kinda have to deal with, but it's easier to notice when it's something you personally relate to. I don't think it would bother me as much if we didn't have that unofficial "respect the canon" rule and everyone just went wild with whatever, but the double standard does genuinely hurt me, especially when I see people I thought were cool about this stuff participating in it. so whenever I see someone fiercely defending an asexual character it really makes me feel good, like I'M being defended, not a random fictional character that I might not even recognize the name of. I feel safe, like that person will respect ME.

THAT BEING SAID,

AS a sex-repulsed aroace person who enjoys thinking about the entire spectrum of intimacy and where a character may fall exactly on that spectrum, ALSO as a person who is aware that "asexual" simply means "does not experience sexual attraction" and not necessarily "is violently repulsed by anything sexual", sometimes I DO want to play out scenarios for my own enjoyment. sometimes I DO want to think hm I wonder where this ace character's line is, compared to a different ace character. I wonder if there is anyone who would be an exception for them, and how they could go about dealing with that exception. I wonder if they're favourable, neutral, or repulsed. if those aspects of their character aren't explicitly stated then what's to stop me from playing around with them and working through my own issues in a controlled and non-canon environment? if they have the same identity as me, I am way more likely to want to play around with them like a doll and perhaps play out scenarios that I might have thought about before but don't actually want to do for real. I'm not taking away their identity, after all; I'm just, in this scenario, imagining this ace character as an ace that might have sex on at least one occasion for whatever reason. either just to try it, or because they do have someone they'd make an exception for, or if they got bored enough, whatever the reason. it isn't quite disrespecting their truth unless it's explicitly stated either in canon or by word of god that it's something they're uncomfortable with. and to be honest, if I see another asexual creator headcanoning a character as somewhere on the asexual spectrum and depicting them in sexual situations, it makes me almost happy, to know that they're still acknowledging that character's canon identity and accepting and exploring the nuance that could come with it, even if I personally believe that this specific character would be repulsed instead of neutral or favourable. there's this understanding of "I'm doing a character study exploration thing", and not "I don't care I just wanna sexualize this character"

but I literally feel GUILTY when I want to write what is essentially a thinkpiece disguised as a fanfiction or original story on asexuality and take an asexual character (canon or coded) and involve them in sexual situations to explore different avenues of the spectrum. I feel like I'm betraying everyone who's like me and is frustrated with how aroace characters are treated within fandom. I'm like "am I being just as bad as those other people who will disrespect a character's canon sexuality just because they think that character is hot and want to ship them with someone? do they do the same thing with other types of queer characters? how does this reflect that person's view of people, if they're explicitly told someone feels a certain way and decides to ignore it for their own amusement? or is it just because they're fictional and not real people and I'm being really sensitive and thinking way too much into it? am I not doing the exact same thing? do I have more credence to explore scenarios like this because I am aroace and sex-repulsed myself and therefore have a pass to do whatever I want and it won't come off as a little weird the way it might if someone who's allosexual did it?"

and these two opinions are at war in my mind constantly. like both of them can and do co-exist but I still struggle to accept that lol

[haru-natsuka]

The fate (Anastacius x Female Reader x Claude)

Chapter 5 : The Mistress's Child

It was normal for a wife to hate her husband mistress and their child, but for her, the mistress was the person who had treated her fairly instead of the husband. When the latter died during childbirth, the wife pledged to herself to raise her child with care and love, giving the child the affection and treatment she deserved but had been deprived of...

Female reader will be named as Celestial

As always, Celestial hid behind a pillar to oversee a certain little girl who was approaching the Emerald Palace. She had observed the princess and noticed that she resembled Claude when he was a child, and there were no evident traces of Diana's characteristics except for her curiosity, similar to the latter and yet a lot of people did claimed the princess followed her mother features more. However, the princess did not take any precautions or seem concerned about the risks of being at the Emerald Palace, despite it being a place only for the Empress and the Emperor. Did she not feel scared if she accidentally met the emperor who had ignored her own mother?

Athanasia, a name that Diana bestowed on her own daughter before her passing from childbirth, also became the name that Claude used mockingly, being aware of its meaning as immortality. As if she was begging Claude to not kill their child. ​But, the crown prince had grown distant from Diana, not taking her feelings into consideration and only seeking for himself. And so, as Claude claimed to have lost a lot and could not bear to lose any more. Then, if he killed his only child, would he did not do anything except for losing some more? Celestial had lost her freedom because of Athanasia and Diana, but still she could not help but worry about the princess' fate.

"I am willing to do anything of your choice. I will support you with all my strength. I will be a good wife in exchange for saving the life of a child who was born innocent and free of sin. I beg you to have mercy and spare her, Claude. She is a pure being who only needs to be protected,"

Celestial pleaded as she hoped for the princess' safety. She could not help but feel the sense of urgency to protect Athanasia who was motherless and help Claude understand that this would be the right thing to do.

Celestial, despite having not bowed before anyone in her life, was now kneeling on the floor before her egoistic, monstrous husband. She lay her forehead on the ground in order to plead with the emperor to spare the princess' child from being killed. The scent of blood and corpses was overpowering and unpleasant, but Celestial remained to make sure that the innocent princess was protected. She could not risk it, having the sense of urgency to protect the pure and precious life of a child, despite her hatred for Claude. She had to save Athanasia with her very life.

Celestial refused to look at her husband, knowing that he was looking at her with hatred and anger. The surroundings were tense, due to the emperor's anger and the tense situation at hand. Knowing Claude, Celestial was fully prepared to sacrifice her own life to protect Diana's child, which she held so dearly. The mistress of her husband, Diana, was a kind person who was by Celestial's side when her husband neglected her and mistreated her. Because of her deep care and affection for Diana, she would go to any lengths and give her life to save Diana's child.

"Her name. Tell me,"

Claude ordered coldly, increasing the tension in the room and causing Lily to tremble in fear. She was desperate for her life and the newborn baby too. As they were the only ones alive amongst the sea of corpses, the Emperor's focus was firmly upon them. Lily was so terrified that she began to speak, answering his question with all her might, hoping that this will appease him and spare her life.

"Athanasia, Your Majesty," was the answer she gave, hoping that it was enough to keep her alive.

"Amusing. I wonder how long this thing can live in accordance to its name." Claude, upon hearing the response from the maid, chuckled madly and turned around to left the room without a second thought. He did not bother to look back, and in a stern tone to regard his wife. Knowing that Celestial gave him an offer to let the princess live, Claude finally agreed to this in turn for her devotion. He seemed to be satisfied by this outcome as he got to chain his wife by his side as long as he desired.

"And I would take your offer to me to let that filthy thing live"

While the palace was full of tension and conflict, it seemed that Athanasia enjoyed her time there. The little girl, having turned five years old this year, felt like a big girl as she was actively engaging in thievery of the palace decoration. The empress, could not help but notice her efforts to steal some decorations from the palace. In fact, she was so exposed in her position that anyone could locate her. Celestial, noticing her acts, tried hard to conceal her laughter, for she felt joy looking at the little princess engaging in such antics.

"I never know our guards are this incompetent that a thief can trespass into the main palace?"

Athanasia was caught off guard by a voice behind her. She then turned around, adorably showing of her doe eyes as she stared pleadingly at Celestial, who had witnessed her multiple times committing such sinful acts. Knowing that Celestial was aware of her daily activities, she hoped for her mercy and tried to gain sympathy by looking appealing and cute to her. However, Celestial had already grown accustomed to her thievery and antics, and the fact that Athanasia had gained a large collection of stolen items in her pockets had become a routine matter for both of them which the empress gave her full support for the girl. Let's make the palace be poor!

"Auntie, please don't tell anyone. Athy will give you my precious chocolate. Please keep this a secret," the little girl begged Celestial, referring to her as 'auntie' as she never know the true identity of the woman who she had met since a week ago.

"Is it the chocolate that you steal from the kitchen?"

"It already in my hands so it is Athy's!"

"You're funny. Am I not giving you enough jewels yesterday?"

"Athy just love pretty stuff so much that Athy wants it to be mine! Auntie is pretty too! Athy loves your hair and your eyes the most. Athy loves Auntie the most!"

Celestial knew the princess wanted her to keep her thievery a secret, but it was fun for her to tease Athanasia from time to time. In a way, being with this little girl had brought life to Celestial's darkened world, and she was glad to spend proper time with someone who was open and honest in their thoughts. She knew that the princess was a little wild at times, but it was far more enjoyable to speak to someone who was sincere and innocent compared to communicating with an adult with hidden agendas.

"Athy, I have a present for you for visiting me again, please extend your hand to me," Celestial told the little princess, who was more than happy to accept the gift.

"Is it bigger and sparkly than yesterday?" Athanasia asked with excitement, clearly expecting a magnificent gift as she had gained many trinkets from her previous visits.

"It is better than yesterday, Athy," Celestial replied with a smile, indicating that the gift would be better than what she had given Athanasia the day before. She gave the princess a little pouch, which she took in her hands curiously.

"It's not a jewel or gold?"

"Open it. I assure you will love it a lot"

Athanasia, the little girl from the royal family, opened the pouch with a sense of doubt, as she had certain expectations when it came to gifts such as this. She considered only gold and jewels to be worthy gifts to receive, as they were the only things she deemed to be invaluable for her future. The princess was not easy to please when it came to gifts, for these precious items were crucial for her future, and she wished to find out whether her expectations would be met.

Athanasia, the princess, was overjoyed when she opened the pouch and discovered that there were endless amounts of gold and jewels inside. She was overwhelmed with joy at the sight of the precious items and was amazed at the seemingly endless space inside the pouch. She was thrilled by the knowledge that she would no longer have to struggle with hiding the items she had stolen, for the pouch's space could hold everything with no one being able to notice. She thought that the gifts that she had been given were more than worthwhile, for they had truly exceeded her expectations.

"It is a limitless space inside the pouch so after this, you can put everything inside the pouch instead of your pocket. No one will notice if you steal anything more after this"

"Athy loves it! Thank you, Auntie!"

The princess hugged Celestial and gave her thighs a tight hug, as a way to show her appreciation for the gift she had just given. Celestial, in turn, also enjoyed the hug for it was a way of bonding and communicating with the little princess. She would also look forward to more future interactions, for the time she had spent with Athanasia had been an important and precious experience for both of them.

"I'm glad that you love it" She caressed the little girl hair gingerly to return her action. Celestial and Athanasia were in their own pleasant world, being completely unaware of the presence of the two individuals approaching them. However, they were soon pulled back from their dreamy moments when they heard a loud voice coming from somewhere nearby. It seemed that the princess and Celestial were not the only ones in the room, for two individuals had arrived and spotted them from a distance.

"What is this filthy bug doing in my palace?" The two girls turned to face the source of the voice, curious to see who had spoken out in such a way. It was non other than the emperor, Claude De Alger Obelia

@fluffy-koalala

Chapter 4 << Previous, Next >> Chapter 6

[hollisxwrites]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing, I was wondering if you could write a luke castellan x reader. Where she’s been at camp for a while now and haven’t been claimed. But most people at camp think she’s Hermes daughter which Luke hates because he has a crush on her. But she’s known the entire time, just wanted to stay in that cabin with Luke and everyone else.

"you've got to hide your love away"

not my gif or my song! all credits to the original creators.

luke castellan x fem! reader (lukes POV)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: some sexual innuendos (nothing explicit though), some crude language, kissing, another song fic! i'm sorry! premise of the first little section is luke denying feeling for the reader because the people at camp think they could be half siblings, but it's nothing weird so dw!

summary: the reader is incredibly close with the kids in the hermes cabin, so close, that she lies and says she has not been claimed by her godly parents yet in order to stay with her friends for as long as possible. eventually, she admits it to her closest friend, luke, and he is relived, as he is in love with the reader.

authors note: guys! i have reached 500 (!!!!!) notes on two works so far, and that has blown me away! thank you for all the request, i'm working on getting through all of them as we speak, and i am so excited to put out what i have been working on to you guys! this is a shorter fic and just kind of cute, so i hope you enjoy! keep sending request, i'm loving reading all of your thoughts about percy and luke! i am so thankful for this community. love you all!

My friends and I, Connor, Travis, Chris, Clarisse, Alice, and {reader} sat around a dwindling campfire on an oddly cold night in September.  A gentle wind blew, rustling the leaves around us, and sending the heavy smoke of the fire into the faces of Connor and Travis, making everyone sitting under the stars laugh at their dramatic performance of a coughing fits.  Everyone, that is, except for {reader}.  She always had a soft spot for people who seemed to feel unwell, even if it was for something as small as the brothers inhaling a little bit of smoke as a joke.  

{Reader} was unlike anyone else I had ever met, sympathetic, gentle, and kind.  Every time I saw her, I felt like my world was a little brighter.  Chris said I loved her, Connor said it was just because she is my “sister” through the camp, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the feeling was.  She had not been claimed by her godly parent, or so she says. Everyone believes that her dad is Hermes, since he is typically a deadbeat dad, and people say he is too lazy to claim her.  I guess their thoughts made sense; she had lived in our cabin for two years, so Hermes really had no reason to claim her at that point.  It shattered my heart just a little bit, as {reader} was so beautiful, a type of beauty that is unique unto her, something I feared I would never get to experience again.   I thought I would not be able to fully love her if she was my sibling.  So, I pushed back any feelings I could have for her deep down in my heart.  No one knew about them, and I hoped they never did, especially if she was my sister. I didn’t want to be seen as some kinky weirdo. 

The Stoll's finally stopped their theatrics, and I was able to look at {reader} for what felt like the first time due to the long day we’ve had.  Everything from counselor duties to training to hanging out with friends, I hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with her the days prior.  I watched her every move, and every moment she enchanted me.  Holding her guitar that I had gotten her from an Apollo kid for her birthday last year, she was picking out random chords, humming along to a song that I didn’t recognize.  Conversation fell silent amongst our group as {reader} started to play the chords she had been fiddling with in more confidence.  She sang along to the expertly played chords in a clean, clear voice that mesmerized me every time I heard her sing. When she reached the chorus of the song, she looked me in the eye while she sang, causing my stomach to erupt in fireworks.  Her eyes shone in the darkness, made even more beautiful by the fire reflecting off them.  

Gather 'round all you clowns,  

Let me hear you say 

Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away! 

When she completed her song, the Stoll's clapped, and then repeated her chorus loudly, skipping around the perimeter of the campfire, shouting like drunken sailors.  Typically, I would’ve joined in their antics, but in that moment, I couldn’t even speak.  {Reader} was so beautiful.  Maybe Chris was right, maybe I did love her.  She sat her guitar down beside her, and leaned up against the logs that we used as makeshift chairs. She threw her head back laughing at a joke Clarisse made, and her laughter was almost as beautiful as the song she had sung.  I could have sworn at that moment that my heart was going to burst out of my chest.  Something about the energy surrounding her made me admire her.  I couldn’t take my eyes off her.  

Eventually, when the moon was completely risen in the sky, and the Harpies were about to come out, my group retreated to our respective cabins.  After showering and changing, I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling that was plastered with plastic stars, there to comfort younger campers.  I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist that {reader} made for our friend group and exhaled deeply.  I had no idea what I was going to do.  That day had solidified for me that I was in love with {reader}.  Her aura was enchanting, enticing me every time she spoke.  I stared into the plastic stars for what felt like an eternity, when all the sudden, someone distracted me from my thoughts (thank the gods). 

“Luke?”  {Reader}’s sweet voice whispered.  “Are you still awake?”  I saw her figure standing next to my bed.  She was wearing a sweatshirt from her hometown and flannel pants that made her look warm and inviting.  Her hair was slightly out of place, and she looked frightened.   

“Of course I am, you know me.  Never asleep.”  I said with a sigh, sitting myself up on my elbows so I could see her better.  “Whatcha’ need?” 

She turned her head away from me, as if she was embarrassed by what she had to say.  “Nightmares.  Again.  I can’t go back to sleep, I tried.” 

I frowned, feeling sympathetic for the girl in front of me.  “I’m so sorry.  I know that sucks.  What can I do to help you?”  

“Could I stay with you?”  she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“What do you mean?”  I asked quizzically, my heart racing, thoughts jumbling together at the mere idea of her staying with me.   

She rolled her eyes and shoved me over.  “I just need to be around someone right now, and you’re my best friend, so...”   

I moved over so she would have room beside me, and automatically, I could see her body relax.  I pulled my duvet over her, making sure she was warm, and shuffled over a little more to respect her space.  “Do you want to talk about it?” 

She shook her head.  “Not really.  I do have something that I want to tell you, though.”   

I laid down so I was facing her.  “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

 “Of course I can, that’s why I’m scared to tell you this.  I don’t want you to hate me.”  I could see the agitation on her face, so I reached out to hold her hand, hoping to ground her.  Electricity sparked where our skin met, but at that moment, I tried to ignore it.  I wondered if she felt it, too. 

“I could never hate you.  I don’t care what you tell me.  You could tell me you hated sword fighting and I would still forgive you.”  I said, giving her my best sympathetic smile. 

She giggled at this, moving to play with the silver ring on my finger.  “I know.”  She swallowed hard.  “Luke, I have been claimed by my dad, I just didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want to leave the cabin.  I didn’t want to leave you.” 

Resisting the urge to let my jaw drop, I looked at her, trying to find any sense of sarcasm in her gaze.  “Are you serious?  Who claimed you?  When?  Why me?” 

“Apollo is my dad."  She said shortly.  “A year ago, the first time I played the guitar you got me. He claimed me then. Also, why you? Look at yourself.  You’re the most genuine person who I have ever known.  I love you.  So much.”  

This time, my jaw did gape open just a little bit.  She loved me.  Oh, my gods, she fucking loved me.  “I love you too, but why are you telling me this now?”  I asked, curious as to why she was letting me in on this information at two or three in the morning.  

“That’s what my nightmare was about.  The lie had gotten to me, and you started to believe I was your sister, which is a horrible thought, and you dated someone, some Aphrodite girl who said I was too ugly to be loved by someone like you.  I didn’t want that to become my reality, so here I am.”  She said, her gaze traveling down to where our hands were still connected. 

My mind ran circles around her words.  She loved me.  She wanted me.  I guessed I looked lost, maybe even unhappy, because when I started to speak, she cut me off.  “So, what you’re saying is that...” 

“If you don’t like me that’s okay!  Seriously.  I know that this is random and ridiculous.  It’s just a stupid dream.”  She said, trying to pull her hand away from mine.   

“It’s not stupid, {reader}.  I love you, too.  I wanted you to not be a Herme’s kid with everything in my heart.”  I paused, eyes moving to her lips.  “Can I...”  At this, she softly pressed our lips together into the sweetest kiss I had ever experienced.  It was so soft, and some of her honey lip balm transferred onto mine.  She pressed a kiss to my cheek, my scar, my jaw, and my neck, before her eyes drifted closed.  “I love you, Luke, but I want to sleep.”   

“I love you, too, so I will let you sleep.” I responded, pulling her into my arms. I held her close for the rest of the night, basking in her scent and her warmth.  I was coaxed to sleep by her rhythmic heartbeat that I could feel against my chest. 

.... 

“WHAT THE HELL!”  Travis shouted.  It was probably nine in the morning, due to the emptiness and light coming into the cabin. 

I jolted awake, suddenly aware of another person in my arms.  {Reader}.  She had her arms thrown across my chest, head resting in the crook of my neck.  I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, trying to take in what was happening around me, trying to comprehend that the night prior wasn’t a dream. 

Travis and Connor stood near my bedside with stunned looks on my face.  Connor was the first to speak up after Travis’s initial reaction.  “Did you guys' fuck?”    

My face turned beat red. “No, dumbass!  Go away, she’s still asleep.  She just had nightmares last night and didn’t want to be alone.”  

“Sureeeeeeee.”  Travis drew out, smirking at me.  “That doesn’t look like you guys are just friends, Lukie.” 

I rolled my eyes and pulled {reader} closer, trying to ward off the Stoll's, trying to protect her from waking up at their loud words.  “Go away, please!” 

The brothers chuckled and walked out of the room, nudging one another.  I sighed and turned back to {reader}.  She didn’t stir in my arms, surprisingly, after all the commotion.  Holding her there made everything in my life make sense, and at this moment, I believed I had finally found my lifeline, my home. I pressed a kiss into her hair and contented myself with memorizing every freckle on her face.  

[yuzurins]

# circles

in which: sae’s tired of running around in circles with an undefined relationship, so he decides to take his chance when he can to make you his.

warnings: kind of unorganized, mentions of alcohol, intoxicated reader, insecure reader, mutual pining, just a bunch of comfort and fluff, honestly strayed from the original prompt t-t

reblogs and interactions are appreciated!

itoshi sae is a busy man.

being the most sought for japanese football player and as well as a regular on the real matrid team meant he was always doing something football related. practices, games, events, you name it.

his schedule is packed with plans set months before they happen. companies and teams always request to see him sooner, but he makes no exceptions for anyone, not even his own family.

well, that goes for anyone but you.

itoshi sae has found himself breaking his own ideals without any hesitation. he‘s standing in front of your apartment, 5 hours, 27 minutes and 54 seconds before his flight back to spain, after an obviously drunk text you sent him 10 minutes ago.

1:22AM

y/n: saweewea

y/n: did u knwo a broken heart hurts REAL bad😍

sae: what

y/n: i think i’m goign to crush my cat with my body weight

y/n: u fg hhh hj jgjjgjhhhrkdoforjfof

sae: where are you rn

y/n: ogm r ru gonna come visit me 😎😜🥺

y/n: i’m soooerirjf lonely

sae: .

sae: be there in 5

sae doesn’t know whether to ring the doorbell or call you to let you know he’s here. heck, he’s not even sure whether you’re at home or not, but he does know that it’s not often you go out to drink. as he’s hesitating, you hastily open the door, almost like you could sense him there.

“sae!” you slur, just barely avoiding stumbling over yourself as you straighten up. “i didn’t expect you to actually come visit me.”

“neither did i.” he scoffs as he takes in your current state: graphic anime tee (which he gave you last christmas), sweatpants, messy tangled bun and your face is entirely red. you reek of soju and he knows better than anyone you’re a lightweight, so sae mentally prepares once more for what he’s about to get himself into.

the response from the magenta haired in front of you causes a pout to form on your face. he’s not quite sure if it’s just his imagination or not, but it looks like you’re more down, more tired than usual.

“are you okay?” he asks, and this prompts you to stretch your arms out, almost habitually, and wrap them around the taller male’s torso.

sae flinches ever so slightly at your touch. he gently pushes you back into the apartment as he closes the door, all while having one arm wrapped around your waist.

it’s obvious you’re not in the right mind space, but as everyone says, drunk words are sober thoughts, though sae doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad. you getting blackout drunk as a result of academic stress has become a monthly occurrence now, and it always ends up with sae coming over to babysit you. he’s more than aware of the fact that you’re taking his presence for granted, yet despite that, he’s still always there for you.

you’re obviously more than just friends, so why does sae feel like the line separating friendship and relationship just keeps getting thicker?

you latch onto him like a koala as he shuffles over to your couch. he doesn’t force anything out of you, doesn’t show any impatience, and just waits for you to talk.

the two of you quietly bask in the comfort of each other’s arms for a long time. just as sae begins to loosen his hold on you believing you’ve drifted off, you cling onto him even tighter, refusing to let go of his warmth.

“don’t go.” you mumble into his hoodie, voice quivering, and sae wonders if it really is school stress that’s made you this way.

humming in response, he pats your back lightly as if he’s caring for a baby, trailing his hand up to your head to play with your hair.

sae doesn’t want to pry, but there’s something he really needs to confirm before it eats his thoughts up even more.

“i won’t leave,” he reassures. “did anything happen?”

a sound comes out of your mouth in response, barely louder than a whisper. sae turns his head to look at you and you take it as a request for you to repeat your words. you try again, and this time, you’re still mumbling, but it’s enough for him to make out what you want to convey.

“i’m sorry.” and a tear falls from your eyes, “i’m sorry, sae.”

now sae’s been in this position for countless times, always coming to be your personal therapist at unearthly hours in the night, but this is the first time he’s ever seen you act so vulnerable. he can feel your body trembling against him and his heart aches just seeing you so dejected.

but he’s not dense enough to not realize what you’re apologizing for, because it’s the same reason as to why he decided to ask in the first place. he gently removes his arms off your waist, turns you to face him and moves his hand up to wipe the tears streaming down your cheek.

this tender, silent exchange between the two of you is more than any amount of words that express. sae’s usually indifferent eyes are laced with affection, and you just can’t help but feel so guilty because of that.

“i know you’re really busy,” you avert your eyes, biting on your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking again. “you’re always doing so much for me, and i feel so terrible because i don’t deserve any of it.”

sae doesn’t say anything, letting you finish your thoughts before stating his.

“i was watching one of your games earlier, and i was reminded of the fact that your world and mine are so far apart.” you’re still looking away, but a soft nudge from sae’s hand pushes you back to look at him. “i just—i feel like i’m not enough for you, sae.”

through watered eyes, you can catch the expression of the male in front of you waver, and with years of knowing him, you’ve mastered the ability to be able to tell what emotions are going off in his mind.

“i know it sounds silly—“

“it’s not silly.” he interrupts, despite being patient all this time, but struggles to find the right words to continue. “is this what you’ve been feeling since back then?”

you shake your head, and lean forward to rest it on his shoulder. “the internet is scary.”

sae lets out a soft chuckle at your unintentional joke, and moves his head to rest it on the side of yours. “but what only matters is that i’m here in front of you right now, yeah?”

“it’s true that i’m busy, but i’ll always be your anchor of support whenever you need it, seriously.” his fingers find their way to intertwine with yours, and your heart flutters at how romantic he’s being. “so don’t cry sweetheart, because you’re breaking my heart as well.”

the use of the pet name makes you giggle, it being so out of character for sae, yet that’s how you know he really means it, from the bottom of his heart. hearing the sound of your laughter allows sae to relax his shoulder from all the tension he unknowingly had been feeling, and he cups your cheek with his palm, bringing you face-to-face with the taller male.

his eyes study your features, taking in your beauty, before going back to make eye contact with you. though you notice how they flicker down to your lips and hover there for a split second longer than anything else, your heart thumping loudly at the realization of what he’s asking of you.

you flash him a small smile in response as approval, and sae wastes no time closing the distance between you two. his touch is soft, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, and easily washes away all the worries clouding your mind.

sae droops his arms over your shoulders and rests his forehead against yours. “you were always and will be more than enough for me, y/n.”

his sweet words bring a red flush to your face (not from alcohol this time) and you purse your lips in embarrassment as sae’s grin only gets bigger.

“so just hurry up and be mine already.”

BONUS: the morning after

you wake up with a pounding headache, and immediately try to get up to get a drink of water, but your body doesn’t budge at all.

as your eyes begin to adjust, you look down to find sae and his arms locked around you, causing a scoff to come out of your mouth.

of course you couldn’t move when a whole professional football player (incredibly fit btw😍) has a death grip on you.

“sae, wake up.” you nudge him and he only whines in response. “didn’t you have a flight to catch this morning?”

“mm, shush.” he takes one of his arms and lightly pushes you back down into his embrace. “who cares about that, been waiting for this for far too long.”

you laugh and decide to give in, slowly drifting back to sleep.

meanwhile, sae’s nonstop vibrating phone on your nightstand is totally unnoticed, the cause being hundreds of messages and calls from his manager wondering where he is.

[takenbypeter]

Hi! I LOVED your Wonka x reader fic! Could I maybe request something?? Maybe one where she's the last one stuck in the laundry after everyone else gets rescued and he needs to go back for her? I love angst and fluff haha

All good if not! Love you

Trapped In Your Own Thoughts

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 961

I am loving all the Wonka love I'm seeing, every time I write for a new character I wonder if anyone will actually request for them so seeing people request for Willy Wonka truly makes me heart melt

Abacus, Piper, Larry Chucklesworth, Lottie Bell, Noodle and you stood in a straight line across from Mrs.Scrubbit as she peered from behind the counter. 

What you thought was going to be a tiresome scolding from the woman turned into something unexpected as she laid pounds of money out on the table. She first stated how Mr.Wonka had settled a deal with Mr.Slugworth covering all your bills. And one by one she went down the line addressing every individual until it was just you and Noodle left. 

“It’s funny,” Scrubbit says as she stares at the last pile in front of her before glaring directly at you, “Mr.Slugworth didn’t seem to leave a single sovereign for you. Guess you're not important eh?”

You stilled, unable to believe your own ears as Scrubbit smirked at your disheartened reaction. “…this must be some sort of mistake,” you muttered before getting cut off. 

“—No mistake at all,” she grinned a toothy grin, “in fact your name didn’t come up at all. So don’t just stand there. Back to work with you,” she ushers and stunned you look around trying to wake yourself from this nightmare that you found yourself trapped in. 

“Go.”

With a wave of her hand, you walked past them shutting the door behind you. “Now, for our dearest Noodle…” you heard her voice fade away as you walked to the laundry room in a daze.

You could not believe this was happening. Of course this would happen to you. You shook your head unable to stop the thoughts from swirling as you walked down the hallway past all the now empty rooms, past your own room until you came to the laundry doors. 

Climbing down the steps and looking around at the now lifeless room, it was impossible for you to do anything but dwell on the whole situation. 

You were stuck here. Alone. 

Being here with a group was one thing but alone? That was something you wouldn’t ever wish upon your greatest enemy, (that is if you had one). 

This had to be an error. Why would everyone else be free except for you? It didn’t make any sense. 

Then your mind slipped back to what Mrs.Scrubbit said about Willy making the deal. 

Did he know you were to stay back? No he couldn’t have. Right? Right. You tried to assure yourself before you even had the chance to doubt him any further. That man was too good and too precious for him to accept this deal knowing you’d continue to be held captive like this.

You went back and forth, replaying Mrs.Scrubbit’s words, trying to figure out what could’ve happened. 

Was Mrs.Scrubbit right? Were you just unimportant?

Your mind goes back to those few late evening conversations that you’ve shared with Willy. It was kind of silly for you to think anything from that. It was foolish in general for you to think so much of the young man, especially when you’ve only known him for a short period. But you couldn’t help but feel hurt. 

Was it that easy to forget you and move on?

Maybe all those experiences just meant something to you.

You could only grind your teeth as you dove deeper and deeper into your self deprecating thoughts. It was difficult to pull yourself out when there was nothing else or knowone else to distract you.

Your thoughts silenced as a screaming pile of bedsheets fell down the chute landing with a hard thud.

The fabric shifted and you spotted familiar brown curls pop out followed by Willy’s head. “I can’t wait for that to be over,” you heard him say as he grunted while climbing out from the chute.

“Willy…” you let out, more surprised than anything to see him. 

“Come with me, we’re getting you out of here,” he declared, running up to you without wasting a beat, “we already gathered everyone else, so let’s go.”

He runs back to the chute, waving for you to come over and you do so. Willy prepares an empty cloth bag as well as some laundry so you have a gentler landing and he then pats the empty spot. 

You prop yourself up occupying the chute and with your legs bent you hug them close as he scrambles to tug the bag up over your legs.

Thinking about it now, your wandering beliefs were all so idiotic, but for some reason in that moment, you couldn’t stop them from slipping past your lips.

“I thought you were going to leave me behind,” you chuckled. 

You meant for it to sound as just a childish passing statement but Willy immediately paused his movements, his arms coming to rest on both sides of the chute around your legs. 

“I’d never leave you behind,” he voiced.

It was impossible to stop a tiny shy smile from spreading onto your lips, “yeah, I know but, I don’t know it was just a passing thought.”

“Hey,” he lowered himself to meet you at eye level as you sat, “I would never leave you behind,” he repeated his statement from earlier, his tone soft and delicate yet firm.

It was a simple phrase, but coming from him it meant something to you. 

A new concern popped into your head, “wait, what about the contract?” You questioned, suddenly worried about the consequences that would follow. 

Willy replied with a smile that told you he already had an answer ready, “don’t worry about that, we have a plan.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to trust the boy before he wrapped your head tying a simple knot.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, giving your leg an affectionate pat before sending you on your way out.