#their exchanges. the things they take for granted about each other.

[petalsonmoon]

if your cascade, ocean wave blues come

the three times you give each other peace.

part 2 of 3.

part 1 here.

wc: 2.1k

notes: thank you for the patience and for reading <3

and for the next 3 months, everything moved regularly slow.

you did your best in everything you put your strength in. you didn’t let the uncomfortable situation hold you back in getting better with mic and, granted, the results were appearing in your other life subjects.

you always did great in the theoretical part of school, always willing to learn new things and you had a saying you created yourself that was: all books eventually catch one’s attention. sometimes you gotta go through hell before everything gets interesting.

and accordingly, you put your name on the 3rd spot in your class raking.

you were proud of that.

In the span of those next months you trained with new faces. you made a good friendship with honenuki, growing to meeting each other after hours to not hold back in the sparing.

mic said that was a good idea. train with someone you didn’t know well to get habituated with the loud noises.

now, when it came to the exercises with class A there were interesting surprises.

the first one, happened 3 weeks after your encounter with bakugo, and unfortunately your group didn’t include him. and it’s not like you were looking for something here but that situtation you both had left you curious about the boy. for the particular reason that when you were feeling frustated and sad about yourself, his presence was a calming thought in that storm.

like. that was perfectly normal, right?

he didn’t ask why you weren’t at the presentation and he didn’t underestimated you for that either. and that’s all you wanted. to breathe peacefully and not being judged.

the second one, it happened 4 weeks after that. in spite of aizawa’s enormous lack of effort and energy to deal with professor sekijiro, they decided to unify the classes for the day and let the students review and establish in pairs how to manage their quirks whilst working with an unfamiliar sidekick.

you were incapable to control your wide eyes the second bakugo walked to you with heavy steps and serious eyes. some colleagues also noticed the strange occurrence and that made you a little unease. but you handled like the mysterious and confident person you pretended to be with him that day.

you held his gaze but you couldn’t fucking stop the sweat it was forming in the back of your neck.

because being honest, nothing really changed between you two, only a few exchanged glaces in the caferia but that was it. and being even more honest, class A was annoyingly famous around the school so you couldn’t (and didn’t have the balls) to approach the angrist boy in the faculty out of nowhere.

since the task was to be a sidekick you didn’t have to fight against him or anything, so you just took a sip of water and went on with it with your head held high.

bakugo was a handful with capital H but a brilliant leader, so it was a nice activity.

and you could really sense that each time it was an activity outside of your comfort zone, you were feeling less and less overwelmed with the noises. you were proud of that.

the training took practically the whole day and when everyone was tiredly getting back to the dorms, he passed by you. the bastard didn’t even look at you.

“meet me in the gymnasium in two hours.”

by the time the phrase is undestood by your brain, he’s already out of your sight.

but you already knew what it was going to happen. so, you went quickly eat some dinner, take a slow shower and mentally prepare yourself.

what is this feeling? excitement? nervouness? you tried not to look to closely at the tiny bit of giddiness also there.

when the time came you made your way to the gymnasium, trying to make your heart and brain settle down and as you entered the place you saw bakugo himself with his back to you getting ready.

you’ve seen him with those black tanks out and about from afar in numerous times.

getting a closer look of his perfectly broad back and designed bíceps made your brain and heart finally agree in one certain feeling.

that’s enough. he’s here to purely beat your ass.

you walk towards him and put your bag on the bench.

“took it to heart, i see.”

“no” he didn’t even look you.

“you’re kinda easy to work with” you admit swiftly as you start to get ready, taking your eyes off of him. “should make a great opponent as well.”

he grumbles in response.

“if you go easy on me i’ll walk.” you say.

and then you finally feel his eyes on you. “then don’t waste my time.”

and that’s how you had the most difficult practice of your life.

bakugo did not held back and you had to think ridiculously fast to survive every single insanely fast strategies he came up with. but you did not held back either and you’re very proud to say you put up with him for some good minutes before he won the match. the boy was almost number 1 of the entire school, you won’t minimize your efforts.

when it ended and you were on the ground he walked to you and offered his hand. and without saying another word you two spared again. and again. and again.

and it took you some time to get used to his explosions so near you but you think you could maneuver your reactions when you actually focused on learning his movements. you're not sure how he handles this loudness.

and he won every single time. but during fights you both were adjusting to how the other thought and moved. it was such an intense but pleasant experiment that you allowed yourself to comment to him your thoughts about his fighting, not judging nor imposing but simply a different point of view.

and you think you worded everything greatly because his eyes weren’t showing you an the usual amount of irritation and after a while he started to comment about you as well.

that was exactly 6 days ago.

right now, you were at the music room once again, sitting by the piano learning how to play twinkle twinkle little star through an app.

it was a choice you made after the festival and okay. not your proudest decision but it calmed you down when you needed. school is not easy and having a hobbie whilst wanting to become a hero is hard.

it was an inoffensive little bobbie.

you were think jingle bells was probably next.

you’ve been there for about 30 minutes when the door slammed open. they really needed to check it someday, people have not been gentle with it.

and you look up to find bakugo katsuki irradiating rage. it was clear he wanted to storm off to the couch he sitted last time but to your unfortunate it was close to the piano and he quickly stopped once he noticed you were in the room as well.

everything you knew about class A was from kirishima cause him and tetsu were strangely close. which is funny because he’s really close to bakugo too but you rarely talked to the blonde up until now.

well, you heard this week that class A had a very important evaluation today. the show-us-in-public-how-much-you-evolved-your-quirk-and-rescuing-people kind of evaluation. so this right now could be related to that information.

you tried to read in his expression if you’d be the target of whatever got him enraged but before you could analize anything he simply angrily sat and closed his eyes.

his irritation tugged something in you. a bit of impotence. you had no idea how to help him and you’re certain that ask him how is the absolute last option.

so you did the most reasonable thing. you look down and continue to play the piano.

twinkle twinkle little star.

if it helped calmed you down perhaps it did the same for him. the boy who smashed the drums. ha.

and for a fair 5 minutes that’s how you both stayed. once you thought you were beginning to understand how to differentiate the dozen of white sticks in front of you, you raise your head to find him in the exact position as before.

you don’t know him well but if you thought you did, you’d say the wrinkles around his eyes and the furrow between his brows seemed slightly relaxed.

“in the piano i’m better than you.” you say almost whispering and let out a chuckle. “ha!”

he shakes his head imperceptibly with his eyes still closed.

“you’re stupid.”

you play another verse of the one song you know on the piano before answering “i don’t think so.”

is that the ghost of a smile you see on his face?

“i can teach you.” you continue.

“absolutely doubt that.”

“you don’t trust me?”

he finally lowers his head and makes a face to you. a low and short grunt in response.

“oh no.” you shake your head “i thought we were past this. i swear i didn’t let you win when we trained. you won far and square, i promise.”

it was a single joke to lighten up his mood. you only intended to create a good and natural conversation but when you heard him snickering with a pinch of genuine laugh underneath it you wanted to make a few more jokes to keep hearing it.

“you’re stupid.”

“i thought we were past this too.”

“i’m gonna past you if you say that again.” his raspy but calm voice fills the room.

“i see you need a little more of twinkle twinkle little star in you.” you look down and start to play again with a surprising efficiency.

“for the love of god.” he looks up grunting.

“okay.” you stop playing.

you look at him again and his eyes are you. “learned this one today.”

“congratulations.” very sincerely sarcarstic of him.

“in half na hour. one note at of time” you add.

he grimace and you smile.

“just saying.” you add. you pass your fingers through the piano keys threatening to actually touch them. “do you consider yourself a good drummer?”

“i’m fucking great.”

you nod in response.

he raises his eyebrows for a millisecond. “how’d you know?”

now, that’s the tricky part. he doesn’t sound bitter or even rude. he’s completely neutral and you don’t know how to read this... challenge? audacity?

he noticed you weren’t at the festival and you know what he’s asking you now and you’re not sure how to continue the conversation. or how to take that in general

do you think you can handle how his view of you would probably change? if you’re confotable enought to share, does it matter? and surprising even youself, you think trust him to be honest without you getting hurt with him.

“are we caring about what the crowd says now?” your voice small.

“only the ones that don’t waste my time.” he replies just as careful.

well.

that was not good for your heart.

“let’s say” you start “i’m here learning an instrument. it’s not very different from why you’re here today.”

his brows immediately furrow “i think it is-”

“did we not” bold move interrupting him. “learn these instruments for the same reason?”

“careful.”

“and honestly-“

“aren’t you a honest person.” It comes out rough of him.

“this” you gesture lazily to the room. “it’s working for me.”

he is genuinely paying attention to what you’re saying. you don’t wonder if it’s because he’s getting angrier or you’re a easy distraction.

“at least that’s what i’d like to believe. i’m 3rd place in my class and i’m getting better... with everything else.” anxiety, you mean

he’s just staring and you keep going softly  “you’re practically top 3 of the whole school. and that’s a lot of pressure, i’d be terrefied.”

“yeah?” he hums.

“uhum.” red is a fucking intimidating color. “even the most powerful person in school needs a little bit of easiness. i hope this place helps you as it helps me...”

the last part comes out almost like a whisper. and you’re aware you’re talking too much but the boy already saw you sitting in a corner of this very room with ruined makeup. it doesn’t get worse or realer than that.

 “we just need to work on our control.”

then even his aura changes. he carefully tilts his head, daring you to continue.

“we?”

“don’t get me wrong-” you add.

“i’m not.” he hiss. shit.

“what i’m saying is...” you hesitate and push aside any warning in your head. and your exploding heart. “i don’t know you well, and i don’t want to assume. how could i know you from other peoples opinion?”

you can see him relaxing again. it’s very subtle. he’s not guarded anymore, so you take that in consideration. you start playing jingle bells in the background of your head to motivate you.

“but i come here to calm my mind and if you’re just like me... then you’re probably losing control of your brain too.”

you look down to your fingers and your breathing stabilizes. if you truly think about it, you were acutely more nervous about the fact of letting what you’re feeling out of you than him blowing your head out of you for what you said.

“are we psychoanalyzing each other?”

“no.” you shake your head “i just want you to enjoy twinkle twinkle little star with me.”

you want to look up but you’re scared.

“you know what i think?”

but with that you do look at him. he’s the softest he can be.

“that you are actually letting it control you.”

now, what the fuck.

how does he know things?

you’re the one with the furrowing brows this time. okay. he secret is always pretend you’re confident and in the control of the situation.

“oh bakugo,” you smile a little “are we friends now?”

“for a honest person you’re dodging a lot.”

goddammit. his aswers are always so quick.

“alright.” you compromisse “can we make na arrangement?”

“hm” that's all you got.

“every wednesday we train together after hours, that’ll help me” this part is true “and in return you’ll work on whatever makes you almost break the poor door everytime you come here.”

he was sending you a gaze that could blow you into atoms in the blink of an eye but you see that he thinks before answering.

“i'm not holding anything back."

him going along with you in this was enough as it is. "i'm not expecting you too."

"and then what?"

"then we meet at christmas and whoever is better will get a gift."

you bite a laughter when his response is rolling his eyes.

"like friends do." you add.

"i get it." he growls.

all of that leaves you with a sweet and fresh feeling. like when you're a little kid and you spend the day with your best friend of a week that is also your little crush that you don't know it's a crush cause you're too young and naive.

and that discovery doesn't ruin anything, cause you're a centered person. you're not expecting anything at all from this. having him as a friend is more than enough and you're grateful.

his phone seals the conversation when starts to ring but stops after he even got out of his pocket.

"fucking hate when they do that." he mumbles.

you look down again, not letting your mind twist.

"when i win and meet you in a month." he says very collected as he starts getting up "i'll need you to be very honest with me, got it?"

your whole body hair did not just went up with that. is he always like that?

"careful, bakugo." you hope you sound as nonchalant as him.

he's already by door when he answers you. "great. we have a deal."

he leaves closing the door more gently than you could.

[cute-little-fly]

Certainly the look of someone that doesn’t feel stomach butterflies for the other because of these gestures. There he is happy he is not mocked for the rats (I think) and the other one because he woke up with a random bunch of horses. His mood waking up surely improved because of that, even if he found it strange. (He doesn’t appreciate them fully yet, but retrospectively he will eventually and rn they work at making him feel better).

Here the scene is all funny but Stolas smiled just after Blitzø tried clothes with him ❤️

Also

A lot of the Stolas behaviour we see later (the bad humor, the crying) here is influenced by the lack of pills. That is communicated visually through this scene:

Followed by:

This is called visual storytelling. Is not a genious thing but it is well done, subtle enough to pass over our heads in a quick first watch (maybe), but that gains relevance in a second watch after the pills having relevance at the end. The pills is something that has been shown a lot of times in all the other episodes too, probably to lead to this and the ending moment.

After this moment is where Stolas completely crashes down, and is more irritable and overly emotional. As someone that dates a person that had depression and now is treated, this characterization even if cartoonish at times is actually very well done. I related too much to it. Also, I can say that a lot of the things Blitzø did actually work. I am sure he took care of an anxious Fizz or his mother had depression. Because he is too good at it.

But, about Stolas, is true he doesn’t trully appreciate all the help he is being given, taking the depression and mood swings aside… as other NORMAL people would do, because he is someone used to have everything granted for him. Literally, served in silver platter.

This is how someone spoiled would act.

For me is admirable how all the IMP crew understands that and doesn’t get mad at Stolas. Blitzø still loves him because is him, he is the most crazy person there and knows how much Stolas loves him. So, honestly doesn’t surprise me as much, he is also familiar with Stolas’s palace and environment and sees that big difference.

They probably understand is a great change for him and where he comes from but it is surely also a great shock for the IMP crew to see those differences. Is also interesting how they set this up in GF. In Ghostfuckers Millie is surprised with the office and says is too much for imps, for Stolas that is for poor people. Ups!

For some of you this makes the show bad, for me it gives depth for each character and where they come from. Is is showing and not telling. A show with this theme of social class and without this kind of conflict and contrasts would be so boring.

For me it would be worse storytelling if someone like him immediately understands everything, and again… Boooring. I think he doesn’t even realize yet that the couch was Blitzø’s bed probably because he always wakes up before. UPS again, more angst for later, because this is a series finale and there is no time for that and only a month has passed. Surely this will create conflict.

But, it will be worth it when Stolas bonds over them over time and see them beyond low-class. Maybe, just maybe he will even be happier once he adjusts… Aaand perhaps, he will need to have treatment too.

The phrase: “you saved me in return” is bitersweet, because Stolas is seeing again the relationship as an exchange. But, is good that he is reflecting that he is the one that 100% caused all of this. A step in the right direction for him.

Some general comments:

1) Helluva boss is far faaar away from perfect, but perfection is not the solely objective of art form, and is not showing how things should be irl, less in an adult cartoon. However, for a comedic cartoon HB is surprisingly deep. Maybe it fails to build up for some people but you just have to adjust that in this show they don’t show some intermediate moments to be able to progress the story more, and have all the characters they have. Is just how it is and for me this is an actual valid criticism of the show because this prevents the engagement of some people. Hopefully with 15 episodes this might improve. Just for you to see that I don’t defend it from everything.

2) Comparing HB to Bojack for me is a mistake even if vivzie is inspired in that show. For me Helluva Boss is about redemption (yes, like Hazbin), and Bojack is nihilistic. HB is about people that can heal even if they think they are not worth it or can’t do it due to their past mistakes. Bojack is about how some people just won’t change and you need to accept that and move on. For me, these two things are true irl. Some people change for the better, some don’t. Bojack changed at the very end, but the people he lost is lost forever and I think he did just because he was in jail without access to drugs. Also, he was given tons of opportunities to mend and he was never able to mend things. Here, is different. A show will always have some overarching themes. Even if the shows are of similar nature their overarching themes are almost opposite.

3) In my humblest opinion, you give the show less credit and choose to ignore a lot of the interesting elements that come from this and only focus and nitpick on the things it lacks… and turns out it will always lack something. Everything always lacks something. I like to be critical on media, but this critical crew make me don’t want to criticize this show as much because you do it more than it needs to be criticized. Of course, I am not saying to you stop doing it. You have all the right to put your post as I have to put mine.

4) Also, I didn’t respond to the post main criticism on big gestures, and the post is long enough, sorry. Sure a lot of people don’t like his rom-com troupe but I actually liked how it was handled in this series, because it helped to Stolas to see that Blitzø trully cares, but at the same time it didn’t solved anything! They still haven’t unpacked anything and the other problems are preventing them to be fully together. Usually in romantic movies these gestures solve everything, here that didn’t happen. Also; the big gesture is something that happened to communicate the other that they love him, just in Stolitz because they were terrible at communicating, and how they failed being a normal couple in everything caused the big gestures to be necessary in the first place.

5) The rest of the couples stand up for the other sometimes, but the gesture is not as important itself to let the other know that they are loved and keep the couple afloat. They actually communicate 😅, and that communication is what keeps the relationship going. The Ozzie and Fizz crooked song and Ozzie’s talk is what gives Fizz the courage to leave his abusive job, not the big gesture. The only gesture that was similar to this one a little bit maybe is when Moxxie presents Millie in unhappy campers, but he does that because he listens to her feelings and Millie constantly shows Moxxie affection, and care and he appreciates. We also see have seen them communicate effectively in other instances, so what is keeping their love strong? Small gestures, communication and care, not them saving each other at difficult situations at work. So ultimately, I feel this big gesture thing only apply to Stolitz… and is mainly because Stolas doesn’t understand love yet and how Blitzø self hatred prevented him to understand Stolas was being truthful. They are a mess and we are not supposed to see how they are as normal, just as them being a complicated and utterly mess because they are like that rn. We like the ship because of that and not ignoring that, and they will be continue to be like that for a while... But eventually Stolas will learn what true love is. The song ending with “Truer love is hard to find” is not true love, but truer. This is foreshadowing that. Blitzø is the truer love, because of all the small every day gestures he gives 🩷, all of this said while Blitzø gently hugs him. Perfect. Chef kiss.

This Show Focuses Too Much On Grand Gestures Rather Than The Little Things When It Comes To Relationships

It's a thing I see in the Sinmas episode where the focus is on Blitzo stepping in to sacrifice him for Stolas that he really becomes grateful and appreciative. It's to show supposedly how he's grown, but in my opinion the little things he did throughout the episode really are the things he should have been focused on rather than the big gesture. The writers still want to focus on Stolitz being this romanticized, ideal couple that they forgot little things like chemistry and small develops between them. However, we never see the same from Stolas to do small good gestures and instead focus on the big gestures, so that we can hammer how nice and self-sacrificing he is despite how much he still comes off as a narcissistic privileged asshole who takes Blitzo for granted.

This quote from Bojack rings true so hard because for a relationship to work you can't rely on grand gestures to hold everything little everyday stuff is the thing that holds it up. And if you think you can hold stuff with grand gestures then your relationship will fall apart. Also those who do grand gestures often do more shitty than regular good things in life, which as he said isn't enough to make up for everything. The problem is Stolas is too much of an ideologue he can't see it and will only value the big things to be truly appreciative. And I fear that will be his downfall in his relationship with Blitzo if rumors are true he will tickle a relationship with Vassago because he craves grand attention instead of one based on small everyday support.

[inconspicuouspotatosack]

i hate this. i hate this!!

[captainmalewriter]

A God's Tongue

“Alright, you ready?” Ahmed asked as he got on his knees. His roommate Kyle helped himself onto his bed and stripped down.

“More than ready! Thanks again man, seriously, you’re the best!”

Kyle stroked his flaccid cock until it began hardening up to full mast. Once it was sufficiently hard enough, Ahmed brushed off Kyle’s hand and took a hold of his cock himself. He looked at the long, pink member with hungry eyes. He smacked his lips with his tongue. Ahmed was ready to go down on his roommate right then and there, but then a slight hesitation in his mind stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked.

“I don’t know if we should be doing this tonight. Aren’t you worried I’m transforming you too much? This’ll be the third time this month! What if something happens to you?”

Ahmed backed away from the bed. Suddenly, the idea of his magic tongue horrified him. He doesn't know how he developed such a strange ability, but Ahmed had the power to temporarily transform anything (or anyone) he wanted by licking it. Ahmed hated his tongue. It made eating unnecessarily difficult and hook ups practically impossible. He swore to keep his magic tongue a secret until the day he died. However, after a night out drinking, Ahmed accidentally hooked up with Kyle and turned him into an adonis. He hoped it would just be a one time thing, but Kyled begged him to transform him again. Although he initially refused, Ahmed eventually warmed up to the idea when he realized it was his chance to finally hook up without someone finding out about his powers. They formed a mutually beneficial arrangement: Kyle got to be a Greek god, while Ahmed got the sex he craved but couldn't have because of his tongue.

It was originally supposed to be a once-a-month thing. Ahmed's tongue could only do temporary transformations. But everytime Ahmed used his power on Kyle, he noticed there was something inexplicably off about his roommate. Sure, Kyle's body returned back to normal after a few days, but his personality started changing too. He became angry, anxious, and even aggressive at times. Ahmed wasn't sure what exactly was going on inside his roommate's mind and he was worried his tongue had something to do with it.

“Nahh I'll be fine!!" Kyle chuckled. "You worry too much, Ahmed! Nothing bad has ever happened in all the times we've done this, right?"

"Well, no, I guess not."

"Exactly! It'll be fine. If anything, we'll just do it one more time and then we'll take a long break... Sound good?"

Ahmed looked up and saw Kyle smiling at him. His reassurance helped calm his nerves. But despite Kyle's affirmation, doubt still lingered in his mind. Ahmed hesitated, but after Kyle made his erect cock twitch at him, he ultimately decided one more transformation couldn't hurt. He wrapped a hand around Kyle's boner, stood up, and kissed him firmly on the lips.

The two men exchanged rough kisses as they pressed their bodies against each other, grunting and groaning as they did so. Kyle then opened his mouth, granting Ahmed the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ahmed's tongue was magical in more ways than one. He knew how to use his tongue well. Ahmed had no problem dominating Kyle's tongue as he took the leading role in their makeout sess. Kyle groaned with delight as Ahmed licked and sucked away at his tongue. As he did so, Ahmed's magic tongue activated and Kyle began to transform. His jawline became wider and sharper as it morphed into a more squared off jaw with some slight stubble to complete his more overtly masculine look. His nose grew thicker and wider until a hooked nose replaced his small, button nose. His cheekbones filled in and grew more pronounced, giving him a ruggedly handsome face. All the while his face began getting darker in skin tone too. His blond, wavy hair darkened until they were jet black and with curls. Darker features were something Ahmed's tongue had never done before, but they were both too caught up in the heat of the moment to even notice.

Ahmed pulled his lips away from Kyle's lips and moved down to his neck. He planted his lips against the left side of his body. He then began licking, sucking, and biting playfully at his neck until hickies began to form, then switched over to the right side.

"Nrgghh fuckk..." Kyle whispered. The heat coming from Ahmed's wet mouth felt good against his neck. His hands gripped the bed sheets as he felt his neck grow thicker and darker with every lick Ahmed gave him. Ahmed ran his tongue from the top of his shoulder blades to the edge of his jawline, causing his shoulder muscles to tighten and thicken. Within seconds, Kyle's back transformed into that of a linebacker thanks to Ahmed's magic tongue. Ahmed moved over into Kyle's armpits next. He stuck his nose into his pit and sniffed his musk. He then licked the crevice if his pits, causing thick black hair to sprout in until Kyle had rank jungles in his underarms. From there, Ahmed slid over to his arms and bit him. He bit and licked all over until Kyle's biceps grew into firm, melon-sized cannons with thick forearms to boot. He licked and licked until veins all throughout Kyle's arms throbbed with strength.

Ahmed continued making his way down Kyle's torso. He stopped at his chest. He licked his nipples until they grew pointy, then proceeded to slip his pec into his mouth and sucked away at his nipple. Kyle's toes curled and his pupils rolled back as Ahmed suckled away at his growing chest. The pleasurable sensations were making him break a sweat. Ahmed didn't mind it though. He was having the time of his life too. The sweat added a slightly salty taste to Kyle's tits. He could feel Kyle's pectoral muscles grow heavier in his mouth as he sucked too, giving his hands something to grab and squeeze as he focused his mouth on his nips. Once he felt Kyle had a suitable set of hefty pecs, Ahmed moved down further to his abdominal region. Ahmed then proceeded to trace the outline of his abs with his tongue. Kyle's flabby stomach region swelled with muscle mass until his abs began popping out one by one like freshly popped popcorn.

In no time flat, Kyle's body had undergone two major transformations. His muscles swelled and grew while also growing darker in color until Kyle had become a muscular Arab god. Every lick Ahmed gave Kyle was pushing him further and further away from his original identity.

Unfortunately, both Ahmed and Kyle were too busy enjoying themselves notice Ahmed was inadvertently changing his roommate's race into his own. Ahmed got back down on his knees with Kyle's cock in hand. He slipped his pink head into his mouth and began licking away at it. He started slowly at first, then gradually made his way down Kyle's lengthy rod inch by inch. All the while Ahmed made sure to use his tongue generously.

"Mmm yeah just like that... Keep sucking that big dick!" Kyle purred, Ahmed moaned in response. He sunk back against the bed as Ahmed's wet mouth wrapped tightly around his hard cock. The sensual feeling of Ahmed's thick, bushy beard pressing against the cleanly shaved base of his cock drove him mad with pleasure. Kyle ran his fingers through his roommate's hair as Ahmed alternated between swirling and licking the sensitive tip of his dick like a melting popsicle, sending rippling sensations throughout his groin every time he did so.

"Ohhh fuckk..! It's happening..!!" Kyle said with bated breath. He threw his head back as he felt a new surge of blood rush into his already erect cock, causing it to grow thicker and heavier by the second.

"Mmmph!!" Ahmed gagged against the expanding cock in his mouth. Suddenly, Kyle's dick was long enough to press against the back of his throat but he refused to give up. He took in a breath through his nose and continued deepthroating Kyle's member until his nose touched his pubis. With his length already pushing 8 inches, Ahmed's magic began affecting Kyle's balls too. They grew and grew until they hung low, heavy with cum.

"Ahhh..! Ahhh..! FUCK!! Ohhh....!!!"

Kyle squirmed from the building pressure in his junk. His body was becoming more muscular and Arab by the second! His balls were practically twitching, begging him for release! Kyle knew how uncomfortable transformation could be, but it was never this powerful before. He knew something was wrong. Amidst waves of pleasure, he opened his eyes and was shocked at what he saw. He had become the muscular adonis again just like he wanted, but his body had unexpectedly become brown too!

"What the fuck..? Noooo...!!"

The darker skin tone was slowly but surely spreading up the length of his pink dick. Kyle tried patting Ahmed in a desperate attempt to stop him, but he took it a sign to not stop sucking him off. Kyle tried to fight it, but between the bomb head and the transformation pains, his body seized up. All he could do was brace himself as his cock twitched and rumbled until he finally shot loads of cum down Ahmed's throat. The moment he pumped out the first load, the growing melanin surged throughout the rest of his body. His legs spasmed as his feet grew bigger and wider until he had smelly, size 14 feet. He had been completely transformed from head to toe.

"Ahhh man! That was good!!" Ahmed swallowed Kyle's load then got up from his knees. "That was more intense than last time! How do you- what the fuck!? Who are you!!"

Ahmed jumped back when he saw the new Arab Kyle laying out in front of him. Kyle held a hand against his temples.

"What are you yelling for... It's me!"

"Kyle!?"

"Who else?"

"But... No! That can't be! You were just supposed to become muscular! Now you look like one of my cousins!!"

"I don't know what to tell you man... Your tongue transformed me, so now I'm gonna look like this for the next couple of days."

The two men shared looks. Kyle held a serious expression while Ahmed looked like he was ready to pass out.

"Well... I guess you're just gonna look like this for a while. Are you gonna be okay?" Ahmed asked.

"Yeah man! I'll be fine!" Kyle flashed Ahmed a smile, but it still took him a while to actually calm down. But once he did, he left the room anxious while a sinister smirk began to form on 'Kyle's' face.

"That fucking idiot..." 'Kyle' said in perfect Arabic. "It took me a long time to squeeze out enough magic out of that fool, but I'm finally fully adjusted to this body!!"

Zahid flashed a grin to himself as he flexed his new body. He was more than happy with the results of his hard work. As he did so, an idea struck him.

"The God's tongue is wasted on someone foolish and cowardly like him... Looks like I'm gonna need one more favor from you, Brother."

The same smirk from before returned to Zahid's face as he looked at himself proudly in the mirror. One that Ahmed had no idea he was responsible for creating with his magic tongue.

[seeingivy]

ivy

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru gojo as taylor swift songs series

--

“i’m not particularly fond of attending these meetings, kento.” you state. 

in the grand scheme of things, the deal that you make with nanami kento is the best case scenario. and if you were looking at this retroactively, with every option exhausted, you’d keep your complaints to yourself. that deep down, you’d know that you virtually have nothing to complain about. that things could be drastically more dangerous than they were. 

but you don’t look at everything in the grand scheme of things. or retroactively. especially when you’re trying to get nanami kento to be nice to you. you turn to your side to give him a particularly pained look, one that he sees through almost immediately, and stops in his tracks with an immediate flick to your forehead with his fingers. 

you rub the sore spot on your forehead while you shoot him a glare, one that makes him smile at you rather fondly. 

“such a shame. they’ve requested your presence, dearest.” he responds, tone dry. 

you lean your head against the back of the carriage, letting out your best attempts of a dramatic groan, which earns you a laugh from nanami. he mimics your motions, before very politely gesturing for you to take your hand in his. his hand is warm, as you feel along the jagged length of the scar on his palm. he flips your hand over in his, before mimicking the exact motion and pressing against your almost identical scar as well. 

if you looked at that one retrospectively, it was very foolish of you and nanami to slit slashes into your palms as a symbol of the promise to keep one another’s deepest secrets. granted, you attest most of the theatrics to the fact that you were twelve, that you were twelve and read far too many fantasy books, and that sometimes your head was stuck in wonderland. and while the premise of the action – of the two of you divulging each other's secrets to someone else was basically unthinkable now – the mark served as almost a soft spot. 

the promise of your friendship. that like the scar that was indented into your skin, it was always going to be there no matter what. 

“i really do apologize. i tried my best to get you out of it.” nanami adds. 

you nod, absentmindedly leaning across the length of the chair to rest your head on his shoulder. he welcomes the touch, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into the lacy fabric covering your arms, as you mentally prepare yourself for the encounters that’s about to occur at this dinner. at the fact that most of them were going to be unpleasant, that you’d have to swallow down fake niceties for an hour, just to keep up appearances. 

as the newly minted lord of his household, following the passing of his beloved father, nanami’s expectations and responsibilities went up tenfold. training new guards, making sure that all the soldiers are up to his standard, attending meetings with other prominent families in the area – the mix of all the events meant that you didn’t see him very often. definitely not as much as you did when you were growing up, significantly less than the first year that the two of you were married. 

and when you became the respective lady of the house, if you could really even call yourself that, some of his responsibilities seemed to bleed into yours. there were dinners that you had to attend in lieu, pleasantries that you had to exchange on his behalf, and staffing protocols that you had to run. 

the job was stressful. particularly stressful, because it required the two of you to keep up a very elaborate system of lies and ruses to keep people at bay. to make sure that you rehearsed your story over and over again, to make sure that you didn’t even give anyone a reason to question your relationship, to keep things as safe and secure as they were. 

the truth was that you weren’t really the lady of the house, at least not in the traditional way. there was nothing standard about your marriage to nanami kento, because calling it that would be a disservice to the relationship that the two of you actually had. 

you postulate that the more appropriate term would be partners. that in the twenty years that nanami kento lived across the courtyard, the two of you had forged your own version of what was important to a relationship. found your own way to protect your vested interests, which involved one another. 

nanami had a very simple vested interest, which was to keep you safe. the shouting that he heard across the street didn’t fall deaf on his ears, and unlike others, wasn’t something that he could stomach to ignore. he was perceptive, a part of you was almost inclined to call it cunning, his solemn offer to protect you. 

you had a very simple vested interest, which was to safeguard nanami’s happiness. and if that meant that you had to marry nanami kento for appearances, so that he could secretly convene with who he really loved behind closed doors, you’d do it over and over again. only because he’s deserving of love. and because his lover is awfully kind. 

“i’ve switched guards. haibara is going to accompany you for the night.” nanami states. 

“thank you. i appreciate that.” 

nanami squeezes your hand once, as the carriage comes to a rocking stop. 

“nonsense. there’s no one else i’d trust to keep you safe.

-

out of all the events that you were required to attend, you were least fond of the dinner parties. there was something suffocating about the ambiance – of the pink flush everyone had from the wine, the sweltering in the air from the high concentration of people, the food that made your stomach tense with pressure. 

it’s why you duck out of there when they switch the plates for dessert which you know from experience is one of the only chances that you get. people were too busy – fawning over the chefs, complimenting the hosts – to notice that you had momentarily made your escape, which at this point, you desperately needed. 

you make your way out of the main ballroom to the foyer, your quick feet leading you to the open balcony. there’s a quiet wind in the air tonight, sending a small coat of goosebumps across your arms, as you lean against the railing and eye the courtyard below. there’s old cobblestones, blanketed in the snow that fell two nights prior, and you wish you could run out there instead of having to retreat back in. 

“are you not going to eat dessert?” 

you basically flinch at the sound of the voice, deep and full at your side, as you put distance between yourself and the stranger who has materialized at your left. you take the quiet second to ogle him in full – snow white hair, bright blue eyes – before you clear your throat. he reminds you of the snow – the way his eyes glimmer in the crescent moon. 

“i apologize. i was looking for the bathroom.” 

he narrows his eyes at you. 

“on the balcony?” 

you swallow hard. 

“i took the second to admire at the view. that’s all.” 

he gives you a thoughtful nod, mimicking the position you were in earlier, by crossing his arms over the railing and looking down at the courtyard.

“clover blooms in the fields during spring.” he states. 

“sorry?” 

“you should return in the spring to see the clover blooms. do you like to look at views such as these?” he asks. 

you give him a polite nod, before making a quick show of the sparkling ring on your finger. you were far too accustomed to the conversation – to the setting and parties like these – to know that there was an ulterior motive. that there was no way that he could have been asking simply to know. you can tell that he gets the hint, that he knows you’re trying to make it obvious from the way his eye falls to your hand, before he offers you a nod in recognition. 

“i’m married.” you murmur. 

“is that right?” he asks. 

you take another step away, the backs of your knees hitting the railing, as you cross your hands over your chest and stick your freezing hands back into the warmth underneath your arms. there was something unsavory left in the air, mainly in the fact that you felt horrible when you had to reject people as such, as you attempt to terminate the conversation in any way that you can. 

“yes.” 

“does being married to nanami kento truly count?” he asks. 

you feel your throat dry. 

“sorry, what?” 

he gives you a smile. there’s something glimmering in his eyes, a sensation, a feeling that you’re not able to place. 

“does being married to nanami kento truly count when he’s very clearly got eyes for his beloved guard?” he asks. 

you can feel your heart drop to the bottom of your chest. and from the look on his face, from the fact that he notes the immediate frown that graces your face, tells you that any attempt you would make to cover up would fall on deaf ears. 

“that’s not true.” you whisper. 

he leans forward, inching a few feet away from your face, before whispering. there’s a musky smell to him, resembling fresh pine, as he whispers back in response. 

“how much do you want to bet, lady nanami?” 

--

“is something bothering you?” 

nanami kento is exceedingly polite. it’s very rare for him to push boundaries, for him to question or attempt to parse something out of you. it was one of the first things that you were able to appreciate about him – that he was curious, attentive enough to figure out things without you ever having to do the work of spilling it out. 

the look in his eyes so unassuming – so calm – that there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to divulge what occurred. only because you can imagine the expression that’s going to follow, that you might not ever see the calm look ever again, and the safe bubble that the two of you had made such hard attempts to protect was going to pop. 

“you were quiet the entire way over.” he adds. 

the guards leave the room, all except one, as the doors to the main dining room are pulled shut. you note that haibara relaxes at his post against the wall, walking up to join you at nanami’s side, offering you a reassuring smile. 

“someone knows.” you whisper. 

nanami tilts his head to the side in confusion. 

“what?” 

“someone knows. about haibara.” you whimper. 

the silence in the room is haunting. you look up to see that the two of them refuse to look at one another – that the gears in nanami’s head are turning, that the fear is settling in haibara’s chest – as you swallow hard. 

you can’t help but frown at them. the calm look is gone. and replaced with something that you fear you’ll never get used to. 

“who?” nanami asks. 

“what happened?” haibara adds. 

you shrug. 

“i went to get air when they switched for desserts. this guy, he came and talked to me on the balcony. he…he asked me if being married to you counts when you’ve very clearly got eyes for your guard?” 

you can tell that whatever flicker of hope that nanami was holding out for has diminished in quick seconds. that the hopes to make it out to be a misunderstanding, to ignore it all together were impossible, because someone had figured you all out. down to knowing that it was haibara that was behind the shut door at the end of the hall in nanami’s room. 

there’s a sharp knock on the door. 

“who’s that?” 

“i invited someone from the party over. he’s an old friend of mine, i’ll…i’ll go retrieve him. we’ll discuss this later.” 

you give him a nod, turning back to watch nanami swiftly march down the length of the hallway, before he disappears behind the corridor. you absentmindedly reach for haibara’s hand at your side, noting that he almost immediately interlocks his fingers with yours, as you feel the warmth burning in your eyes. 

there was a difference in the way that nanami and haibara loved one another. something that was almost institutional, something entirely unavoidable. 

it was the one thing that you and haibara had in common; that the two of you were willing to risk anything for kento. in the disastrous case that the two of them were found out, it was probable that haibara would be exiled. that he’d have to flee for having desecrated lady nanami in his illicit affair. 

if nanami’s…predilections…were discovered, you knew for a fact that you’d no longer be allowed to keep your residence here. that no matter what defense you made, you wouldn’t make a slim escape that you did the previous time, that your parents would drag you back to that forsaken house by your hair if they had to. 

and nanami kento would be alone. he’d be disgraced, surely people’s opinions of him would sway. but in the grand scheme of things, his solution was simple; to say that he was enticed, to move on as he was, to pretend like he had not forsaken the two people that he cared about the most.

on the heels of your worst nightmare coming true, nanami kento’s left in the dark, only because he can’t possibly understand what the two of you are going to be left to deal with in the aftermath. 

“what are you going to do?” you whisper. 

“run away.” 

“what?” 

haibara shakes his head. 

“you could come with me. i would protect you.” 

you shake your head. 

“nanami can protect you.” 

“but he shouldn’t.” he whispers. 

you nod. 

“he’d lose all credibility if…if he were to defend me.” 

“he can come with us.” 

you can hear nanami’s footsteps echoing down the hallway, animated chatter echoing against the walls as you let go of haibara’s hand, giving him one last look, before watching him retreat to his spot against the wall. you swear there’s a sheen glimmering in his eyes. 

you run your hair through the loose waves left by the braid, massaging the tense points where the pins were digging into your scalp before standing up and preparing yourself to exchange niceties with the man walking down the hall. 

only to find that nanami’s walking into the room with him. 

the exact stranger that had cornered you on the balcony. you can feel your throat dry again, that he’s going to corner haibara while he’s actually in the room, that he’s going to rub your wrongdoings in your face, and you can’t help but reach for the stray knife that’s strewn across the table. 

“we’re not exactly sure what we’re going to do.” nanami states, shooting you a halfhearted smile of acknowledgement as he walks into the room. 

the stranger gives you a smile. and it sends a course of anger running through you, enough for you to clench the knife in your fist. 

“this is your wife?” satoru asks. 

nanami nods. 

“she truly does care for you. evidently enough to get homicidal on your behalf.” he states. 

“what?” nanami asks. 

you watch as the stranger sticks his arm around nanami – that he’s so friendly with him that nanami allows it, that nanami’s must have made a grave mistake and that’s how you were found out – as he points towards your hand. 

“she’s got a butter knife in her hand. and the look on her face isn’t exactly savory.” 

“y/n. put the knife down.” nanami murmurs. 

you widen your eyes at him. 

“kento. that’s the guy.” you whisper. 

nanami pauses. 

“what guy?” 

“the guy who asked me the question. the one that knows about…you know.” 

nanami’s eyes widen – and you swear that you hear haibara release a breath of relief behind you – before turning back to the guy. this time you’re unable to place the look that’s simmering in nanami’s eyes, something that you’re assuming is a mix between searing anger and painstaking relief. 

“did i do something?” he asks. 

nanami gives him a peachy smile, before reaching forward and punching the stranger straight across the nose. there’s a bright crimson color that leaks out almost immediately, coupled with an obscene whining nose that comes out of his mouth. 

you note that nanami takes the second to exchange a look with haibara, that you were right – that there was sense of unrelenting relief that they share, before you turn back to the two of them. 

“what the hell was that for?” the stranger whines. 

nanami wipes the red blood on his knuckles away with a napkin, before reaching forward and squeezing your shoulder once. in reassurance. that everything was going to be fine. 

“you unnecessarily stressed my wife out. i’m almost inclined to let her stab you as she was intending.” he states. 

“she was going to stab me?” he asks. 

“you walked up to her and divulged our greatest secret. and left out that the reason that you knew was because i told you.” 

“i figured that she knew. surely, she knows who i am.” he defends. 

“as always, you give yourself too much importance, satoru. and knowing you, the fact that you purposely chose not to introduce yourself had to have been deliberate.” 

you watch as haibara offers satoru a hand, extending him a napkin for the blood that’s dribbling out of his nose. satoru welcomes it, not without giving haibara an embrace on his own, before turning to give nanami a guilty smile. he only rolls eyes 

“i’m satoru gojo. it’s a pleasure to meet you, lady nanami.” 

you sigh. 

“right. you’re his friend from…” 

“vienna. correct.” he finishes. 

you wipe your sweaty palms against the pleats of your dress before sticking your hand out and shaking his, the searing cold in his touch taking you off guard. he shoots you an apologetic smile, before placing one of his hands over his chest. 

“my apologies for causing you distress, my lady. that was never my intention.” 

you smile. 

“from what i’ve heard about you, i’m inclined to believe that’s a blatant lie.” you states. 

satoru smiles – at what you assume is mainly the fact that he was important enough to have been mentioned to you by nanami – before giving you a mock bow. 

“guilty as charged.” 

“i’d keep your jokes to a minimum while you’re here.” nanami states. 

satoru ignores his comment all together. 

“i didn’t get your name.” 

“y/n.” 

“he’s going to be staying in the room across from yours.” nanami adds. 

you turn towards him. 

“he’s going to live here?” you ask. 

nanami gives you a sly grin. 

“i’m sure he won’t be offended by your late night singing. god knows that he’ll join in if you start belting again.” 

you can feel your cheeks burn. only at the fact that nanami’s divulging your late night habits to this stranger, this stranger who seems intrigued by what he’s just mentioned, and you shake your head dismissively. 

“it’s not that. he’s more than welcome to stay, obviously, i would just…like a warning next time.” 

--

“you know. you never did answer my question.” 

you nearly flinch at the sound of satoru gojo’s voice, as you turn to find him seated on the bench in the middle of the garden. he’s less…less formal than the last time you saw him – his hair unstyled, his shirt plain – and with his legs crossed. 

you divert your gaze back to the ivy that’s growing against the length of the pathway, make a mental note that you should probably trim it tomorrow, before eyeing the flower bed to your left. 

“sorry. what was that?” you ask. 

satoru pats the seat on the bench next to him, patiently waiting for you to join him at his side, before he even makes any attempt to divulge. you can tell that he’s not going to take no for an answer, that he’s very keen on interrupting whatever it is you’re doing here, and that he enjoys pestering you – for whatever reason. 

 you’re careful to keep a sizable distance between the two of you, as you take your place next to him. 

“you never answered my question. do you enjoy looking at views like this one?” he asks. 

“oh. right, from the other day. yes, i do.” 

satoru nods. 

“did you know that my room gives me a perfect view of this very garden?” he asks. 

“i wasn’t aware, no. i’ve never been inside your room.” 

satoru grins. 

“do you need a formal invite?” 

“what?” 

satoru scoots closer to you on the bench, giving you an almost devious smile, before leaning closer and whispering. 

“you have to know that you’re always welcome where i am.” 

you roll your eyes, scooting to the edge of the bench, in attempts to put a distance between the two of you again. he takes the hint, learning back towards his side, before twisting the flower he’s very clearly plucked from the nearby tree in his fingers. 

“i’ve seen you come down here every single day. once in the morning, once in the evening. you tend to the flowers on the left, sometimes you sit near the pond on the right. sometimes you trim the ivy.” 

you make your best attempts not to make a face. 

“are you cataloging every movement i make?” 

“i make my best efforts not to. i can’t help that i’m so intrigued by you.” 

“what’s so intriguing about me?” you ask. 

satoru leans his head against the back of the bench, shiftling slightly closer to you, in order to bask in the slightest streams of light that were peering in between the leaves. 

“wouldn’t it be easier for you to just trim the ivy from the garden for good?” he asks. 

you shake your head.

“i love the ivy. and yes, sometimes it takes up space where it shouldn’t, but that’s just how ivy is. it grows wherever there’s room for it.” 

satoru pauses, almost like he’s mulling the thought over, before he reaches for your wrist. his fingers are ice cold as he wraps them around your skin and maneuvers your hand so it’s facing palm up. you note that his eyes slightly waver at the jagged skin, before he places the flower in his fingers in your palm. 

“kento has a very similar scar.” he notes. 

you nod. 

“my fault. i told him a secret. he told me one too. and we decided that a bloody shake on it was what he had to do to solidify the fact that we would keep one another’s secrets.” 

satoru gives you a look. almost like he’s impressed. 

“that’s some dedication.” 

“kento is very special to me. in ways that i understand might be difficult to comprehend.” 

satoru shrugs, as he wraps his fingers around yours, closing the flower he gifted you into your hold. 

“nanami kento, who albeit i will admit is very attractive, made his very first moves on me when i came to vienna. and while i could empathize with his affection for me, hell i was even flattered, it was something that i couldn’t reciprocate. and by proxy, i tried to find solutions for him. like setting him up with friends of mine, guards that i had met on my travels.” 

like haibara. 

“granted, it seems that he didn’t even need my help. he’s found an almost perfect solution on his own. even your chefs and lady’s maids are sworn to your deep promises of loyalty. i will admit that i tried the same ruse that i played on you with them and not one of them gave in.” 

you smile. 

“i hand pick our staff myself.” you respond. 

you pause. 

“and our ruse is perfect.” 

satoru shakes his head. 

“while i’m inclined to believe that, coupled with the determination in your voice, my gut tells me that it’s not exactly true. it’s what peaks my curiosity the most, the fact that you so willingly participate, when you’re the one receiving the short end of the stick” he states. 

you can’t help but be defensive. 

“i get to live here. tend to the garden. my lady’s maids are very kind to me. nanami and haibara treat me with the respect, which is the bare minimum, but they’re also my closest confidantes. i’d even wager to say that…that in some strange way they’re my closest friends. that and the fact that i’m the one holding our sweet favor together means that things usually go my way, which definitely helps.” 

satoru scoots even closer. 

“that can’t be enough.” he whispers. 

“enough for what?” 

“you. their friendship, this garden – that can’t be enough for you to forsake the idea of love. of having your own partnership.” 

there’s a sharp prickling in your chest, as you shake your head. 

“i’m more than grateful for what i have. kento is kind, very kind, and he always has been. while he may not be my husband in the traditional sense, i…i do view him as my partner. he takes care of me. i try my best to do the same. most people would kill to be so lucky.” 

satoru smiles. 

“that’s not what i said.” 

“what?’ 

“i didn’t ask you what you were grateful for. i suggested that there was no way that you could watch the two of them without yearning for what they have. that there wasn’t a part of you that craved for…to be that intimate too.” 

“i am not fond of kento in that way.” 

“not with kento. it’s evident that it’s strictly platonic; that and his predilections don’t necessarily work well in your favor to begin with. but someone. anyone. even just the idea of it, being someone’s closest confidante, in every respect.” 

you slightly slump down in the chair. 

“it’s a magnificent curse that you’ve given yourself. the exact thing that you long for is the one thing that you’ve set yourself up to not have. surely, nanami kento was not worth all of that?” 

you shake your head. and he gets the message – that for you, it is. 

“a fatal flaw.” satoru murmurs. 

“what do you mean?” 

satoru reaches forward, for the stray strands of the braid that fall loosely around your face, and tucks them behind your hear. 

“exceedingly kind. with everyone but yourself it seems. so agreeable, it seems that you forget you’re part of the equation too.” 

you pinch your lips in a line. 

“i’m a phenomenal friend.” you joke. 

“never been that good at the whole friendship thing.” 

you scoff. 

“i wonder why.” 

he rolls his eyes in response, before extending his hand out to you. it makes you nervous, sliding your hand into his hold – accompanied by the course of energy that runs down your spine when you do – as he runs his thumb over the jagged scar on your palm. 

“could i be so lucky as to be your friend?” he asks. 

you feel your throat dry. 

“what?” 

he smiles again. 

“are all friendships this demanding? surely, you won’t make me humble myself to make me ask again.” 

you laugh. 

“i can’t help but fear that you have an ulterior motive.” you murmur. 

“well, that’s natural of course. but i can’t be so blatantly forward. i know i’m teetering in dangerous waters by flirting with a married woman. trying to romance her by drinking her husband’s wine.” 

his blatant admission makes your cheeks burn, even in the dead of the night, when you rethink the conversation before going to bed. and in retrospect, that’s when you pinpoint it to. 

the exact moment where satoru gojo plants his roots in your dreamland. 

--

in the dead of night, you knock on nanami’s door. if you had your wits about you – which you almost never did – you would have avoided this all together. thinking through your decisions would have prevented you from interrupting what you did and the smallest part of you feels guilty. 

“did you want something, y/n?” 

nanami looks flushed. bright pink cheeks, the faintest beads of sweat on his forehead, and panting. 

“why are you out of breath?” you ask. 

nanami narrows his eyes at you. and it takes you three seconds to realize that you’ve interrupted him after the sun dipped past the horizon, the exact time that he’s asked you to give him his privacy, as you widen your eyes. 

“oh god. kento, i’m…” 

“no, no. it’s alright. i know you wouldn’t bother if it wasn’t something important. I’ll ask haibara to leave.” 

you reach forward, grabbing onto the door, as you give nanami a pleading look. 

“can he stay actually? maybe both of your input will be helpful?” you murmur. 

nanami gives you a confused look, before giving you a kurt nod. he shuts the door – the quiet sound of muffled voices and scattering behind the door – before he returns, fully dressed this time with haibara at his side. the latter gives you a smile, gesturing for you to enter, as you take a seat at the vanity. 

you would be offended on satoru gojo’s stance – that you were the one left with the worst cut of your deal – if it wasn’t something that haibara had said to you first. it was an impassioned defense that you heard from him moments before you married kento – that you were deserving of love, that he couldn’t let you sign your life away from him – and you can tell it weighs on him often. 

you figure it’s why he’s so kind. why he’s so sweet. because he feels guilty for the potential he’s taken away. 

“sorry. i didn’t mean to interrupt, i just…wanted some advice.” you mumble. 

“we’re always here to help you. whatever you need.” haibara responds. 

“what’s going on?” kento asks. 

once you start talking, you can’t help but stop. you can’t help but go on and on – about satoru gojo, about how his piercing blue eyes send a shiver down your spine, that his earnest curiosity about you is something that you find endearing, a feeling you’ve you’ve never been privy to – to be the object of someone’s affections and it’s driving you insane. 

“it’s ridiculous, kento. he…he asks me questions. all the time. about what i hated about grade school, why i dislike my mother, why i would suggest that you and i slit our palms to seal our promise. and the crazy part is that he seems intrigued by it – he actually wants to know about me.” 

kento offers you a kind smile. 

“is it so shocking to believe that someone would be interested in you? surely you don’t think so little of yourself.” 

“it’s getting hopeless. every morning i go down to the garden early, i’m…i’m fidgeting with my hair for these moments that we steal in his free time. and it’s ridiculous…it’s ridiculous because i know it’s just begged and borrowed time, but god. god is this how the two of you feel when you spend time together? i’m…i’m itching for more and i’m insatiable.” 

“well, i think that-” haibara starts. 

“it’s like a goddamn fire. he makes these ridiculous jokes, he makes me laugh, and now i can feel him there in the pit of my stomach, and…and i can’t get rid of him. i’m scared that it’s never going to go away, that he’s just always going to have these roots in me because i’m so desperately fond of him, i love being around him so much, and it just…just makes me despair that he’s going to leave soon.” 

you’re panting at the end of the rant, two wide eyed stares being offered to you, before they exchange a look. 

“sorry, y/n. what was the question?” haibara asks. 

you give him a breathy laugh before sinking back down to your chair and placing your head in your hands. 

“this is…this is how the two of you feel, correct? I…i’ve never felt this way for someone before, i’d half convinced myself that i’d never know what it feels like to have someone care for me this way or want that for myself, but i just…that’s what it is right?” 

kento gives you a smile. 

“yes.” 

you groan. 

“you know, i’m starting to understand why you almost ran away, kento. not being able to exact these feelings is excruciating.” you murmur. 

haibara gives you a confused look. 

“why can’t you see it through?” 

you look up at him. 

“surely, i can’t.” 

kento smiles at you again. 

“why not? we’re certainly not morally opposed to it.” he states. 

you feel your throat dry. 

“you’re not?” you whisper. 

kento closes the distance between the two of you. he holds his hand out to you, jagged scar facing up, as you place your hand in his. 

“i mean. i find myself dreading every interaction that i have with him and unable to understand what you’re seeing. but surely you must know that i would have no problem with you pursuing…whatever it is.” 

you sigh. 

“really?” you whisper. 

“of course.” 

“well, i figured that you would. but…do you think that he likes me?” 

haibara places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. 

“what’s not to like?” 

you give the two of them a grin. 

“the fact that i’m already married.” 

the two of them laugh, enough for it to ease the anxiety that’s wavering in your stomach, as you sigh. 

“i’m sure he can get over it.” 

there’s a rapid knock at the door, the three of you sitting up as one of your lady’s maid shoots you a meek smile from the doorway, her quiet voice breaking the silence. 

“lord nanami.” 

“yes, what is it?” he asks. 

“the nurses in the east wing told me to alert you that your guest has returned. he appears to be severely injured.” 

--

nanami gets there first. haibara half drags you there. only because it makes your stomach wrench – knowing that satoru’s hurt, that he’s down the hallway writhing in pain, that he left on a dangerous mission without divulging where he was going. 

“what was he there to do?” you whisper. 

haibara frowns. 

“he’s been negotiating to find a place in the area. and granted, his family’s powerful, and…and sometimes people make power plays with heirs and such and it’s…it’s really just semantics, i wouldn’t worry.” he murmurs. 

you give haibara a nod, letting him push open the door to the dimly lit room in the wing, where one of nanami’s nurses is very carefully attending to a gash on satoru’s forehead. you can tell that most of the damage has been cleaned up – evidence by the loads of bloodied washcloths in the bin closest to you – as well as the acidic smell of the antiseptic lingering in the air. 

satoru cranes his head to the door, earning him a scold from the nurse working on his forehead, as he splits a smile. you can’t help but feel the tears bubble up in your eyes as you close the distance, reaching forward to cup the side of his face and watching the dried red come back on your hand. 

“why are you making that face?” you whisper. 

he can’t help but smile – that the line he’s repeated to you multiple times is one that you’re parroting now.

“just thinking.” he whispers back. 

“penny for your thoughts?” you ask. 

you can feel the dryness in your throat as you dip your hand to where his is, the ice cold feeling sending a shiver up your spine. he mimics your motions, his hand finding its way to yours, as you look down at the intertwined fingers. 

“nanami kento has just told me that you’re very fond of me. enough to be so worked up over it that you interrupted his…evening plans.” 

you shoot nanami a glare over your shoulder, one that he merely shakes his head to dismiss, before you turn back and run your hand through the messy tresses of satoru’s hair. 

“i’m not fond of you.” you murmur. 

“don’t break my heart now. i’m already injured.” he complains. 

you smile, at the attitude, before reaching for his hand that’s firm on your cheek and pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. 

“well, don't act so daft and i won't say things like that.” 

satoru scoffs. 

“i did this for you. i can’t exactly live close by if i don’t make deals with people around here. and how was i supposed to know that they were out to get me?” 

you laugh. 

“just be careful. all of my pain fits in the palm of your hand.” you whisper. 

satoru furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

you swallow hard. 

“my heart’s yours. you can break it, especially if you’re being careless like this, so just….tread lightly, please.” 

satoru looks over at you, eyebrows raised to mark his intrigue, as he reaches for the scar on your hand. it’s something that he touches often – soft fingers running down the length, his curious voice asking you to repeat the story over and over again. 

“in the palm of my hand?” he asks. 

you shakily nod. 

“do i really hold so much power?” he repeats.

“well. you’re relentless. you’ve always been relentless and i just couldn't help it. it's all your fault" you groan.

satoru gives you an ear splitting smile, before shaking head.

"i disagree. ivy grows where there's room for it."

you reach forward and run your thumb over his lips. and he welcomes the touch, pressing a kiss to the scar on your palm, marking a new promise - one that he's privy to this time.

"you let it happen. just as hard as i was trying to pursue it."

--

an: what tf is going awn. also no way this is the first evermore song. AND I JUST REALIZED I'VE NEVER DONE A FOLKLORE SONG?

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

[normansnt]

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[miserycanary]

PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 

synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)

tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 

The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 

With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 

Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.

Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.

Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 

As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 

“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 

Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 

Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 

But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 

Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 

And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 

Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 

He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?

You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open! 

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[felibrary]

our love has always been 10 centimeters apart - aventurine

synopsis: the two times the both of you were away from each other even though the only thing you’ve longed for was each other, and the one time where the two of you find your way back to one another again.

pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) | wordcount: 2.0k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader cries a bit (tiny bit), mentions of alcohol and “sex” (an idiom = get into one's pants) but no graphic mention of sex + they’re not drunk, kissing, making up and making out (one kiss), tba if i find more, proofreading is for losers (its 4am (cet) i'm just too lazy); oneshot

tags: @azullumi (i swear that grey block with spikes from mario literally looks like "alpha sigma boss. you guys agree right?? prove azul wrong.)

img credits: @/magnolia29 on x!

a/n: i started this draft at like 12 an and procrastinated for god knows how long but yeah!! hope this is okay for what sleep deprived me wrote lmfao

“you seriously still wear that thing?”

aventurine points at the wool scarfs you’re wearing, it hangs a bit loosely due to you not wrapping it around your neck enough.

“yeah, got a problem?” you tease, grinning as you look at him. “it’s the first thing i got from you when i was moved to this department.”

ah right. he remembers the day vividly. they said that a certain member has risen quite quickly in the past few months and will now be moved to his department: the strategic investment department.

on the first day of work, aventurine, like the thoughtful senior he is, came up to you and greeted you, offering you a tour around the building and introducing you to the staff and everyone who worked here. you agreed and followed him as he guided you around your new workplace.

the two of you got along quickly, exchanging laughters and telling each other jokes as the two of you were strolling around the building. he remembers gifting you an expensive scarf, one made out of the finest wool in the whole galaxy. you thanked him wholeheartedly and at that he couldn’t help but invite you out for a drink - like the mindful senior he is, of course.

drinking after work became a little habit for the two of you. sometimes the two of you were able to drag veritas or topaz along, but usually veritas denied the invitations, saying “he doesn’t want to mush up his brain due to the alcohol.” as for topaz she usually came along to look after the two of you, but today it seemed like there was an emergency regarding numby, which she had to rush to immediately. leaving you and aventurine alone.

which led you to your current situation, the two glasses of alcohol in front of aventurine are left untouched, everything that happens right now is done with a sober mind. he can’t put the alcohol to blame.

your hands are close, they're a mere 10 centimeters apart from his. it takes everything inside of him to not take your hand in his and smother it in kisses, but he refrains, he can't - he shouldn't even be thinking about something like this.

your soft lips lean forward to meet his, they're a mere 10 millimeters away from his. you continue to launch forward, he doesn't move away, he can't move - he's frozen. you assume he granted you permission to kiss him. your hand snakes towards his, loosely intertwining the tips of your fingers.

your lips ghost over his - the distance between the two of you is gone, it scares him. he fears he might not be able to return if he goes this way. 

aventurine can’t help but pull away from your tantalizing touch, it hurts him. but he’s scared.

he slips his fingers out of your grasp, lurching backwards, uncomfortably shifting on the big sofa and scooting back, to move away from you.

your eyes shoot open, clearly filled with confusion. your lips slightly part open and you tilt your head to the side, irritation is written all over your face.

"s-sorry." he apologizes quickly. "i don't think i'm made for this," he mutters. regret immediately overcoming him and you.

"ah, don't worry. i should be the one apologizing. i'm sorry. i shouldn't have just assumed your feelings. forgive me." you try to maintain a steady tone but your voice and expression betray you. your voice quivers - it breaks, it sounds like you're holding back tears that are about to spill at any given moment.

no, no , no this can't be. it's all his fault. he ruined everything once again, his gift was a mere misfortune, it only caused bad luck. 

your hand that was once connected with his slithered away from its previous position, this time you really were gone.

perhaps this is when aventurine realized that the both of you weren't just mere inches apart but the distance between the two of you went beyond planets and galaxies and thus could never be conquered.

the two of you were worlds apart.

it’s been a few years ever since he’s seen you. (there hasn’t been a single day where he hasn’t thought about you.) apparently someone caught wind of what happened between you and aventurine, of course they reported it right away. initially it was planned to fire you, for making a move on one of the ten stonehearts, especially as someone who stood below him. 

but aventurine convinced them not to do so, saying he’s also at fault and that they should just make you move departments, perhaps you’d learn from your mistakes. it was successful - he was beyond relieved. he didn’t show it, the only thing that was visible to them was a cunning smile. 

behind it, beneath the faux smile, he was clenching his teeth, biting the insides of his lips so hard that they began to bleed (he wishes that you were there to trace the outline of your lips over his once again, mending to his wounds - both, the one on his lips and the one in his heart.) his left hand was trembling behind his back as he awaited their judgment.

eventually you did get moved to another department and aventurine didn’t visit you, too caught up at work and business matters on other planets. 

(it’s a lie - he knows that himself, it’s just to avoid you. it’s for the better he thinks, better for the both of you to not meet. he fears that all the feelings he kept hidden inside his chest will return and turn his world upside down once again.)

one time he overheard some co-workers gossiping about “the person who got into mr. aventurines pants” getting sent onto a mission that’ll take several years. “what a pity that they won’t get to see him anymore.” a female voice giggles as the other voice hums in agreement and they walk away.

lies. all lies, it had to be. both that you “got into his pants” - hell it was a mere kiss that the two of you exchanged (not even a kiss because he shied away.) but it had to be a lie that you were sent away right? right? It’s just rumors, just some gossip that people need to pass their time, it can't be. 

of course, to his dismay, it had to be true. 

his luck was truly a misfortune.

spring has come, the remaining snow melts away and turns into puddles. the skies started to clear up and flowers that were once covered in snowflakes, hidden beneath the white blanket of snow, started to open up again, blooming in their full glory. 

but there was another flower he spotted, one that stood out from the others - you. after all this time, he’s finally found you. 

this time he doesn't falter.

he runs up to you. pulling you into a tight embrace as he hugs you. his nose is buried into the wool scarf you’re wearing, he took notice that it’s the same one he gifted you back then. your scent mixed with his still lingers on it.

“aventurine?!!” you shout, surprised to see him again after all those years. 

“you kept it..” he whispers fondly. huh? you’re confused, what is he talking about? “the scarf i mean.” he says without looking up, as if he knew what you were thinking without having to see what expression you wear or hear your voice and which sound you’ve uttered.

“of course, i did.” you say bitterly. “after all, it's the last and only thing i have left from you.” you whisper, a frown finds its way onto your face.

“no. that’s not true.” he protests, finally looking up. it's just like the last time he saw you, your eyebrow furrowed, your eyes telling him that you’re on the verge of crying - similar to when he rejected your advances. “you have me now.” the words barely above a whisper.

“oh aeons, dont, please. i beg of you.” aventurine is quick to put his gloved fingers on your eyes and rub them softly, collecting the tear drops that are about to run down your cheek. “you know i hate seeing you like this.” he whispers quietly as he removes his glove from his hand and rubs circles over your cold and reddened cheeks. 

“i missed you.” you hiccup in between your cries, aventurine continues to catch your tears, he won’t allow you to cry any more - especially because he’s the reason why you’re tearing up.

“pshh.” he tries to quiet you. “ive missed you too, probably more than you know.” as an attempt to reassure you.

“i’m here now, i’ll stay with you, i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he leans forward, this time he’s the one initiating the kiss and you gladly return it. his chapped lips meet yours, kissing you messily. there’s some biting and teeth clashing but he couldn’t care less, neither do you - after all this is what you’ve been waiting for.

there's no distance, no fronts, no walls to separate the two of you. he's never felt this kind of love - your love. he hasn't been held this lovingly for an eternity, this is the first time he actually somehow feels human.

boundaries is a word foreign to the two of you, they've never been there - they never will be there because from the beginning on aventurines heart has only sought after you.

it used to terrify him, the way his heart always seemed to jump out of his rib cage upon seeing you. the louder and faster the pumping got the closer you leaned in - just like back then.

but exactly because of that or rather because of you he discovered a new part of himself, diving into an ocean of emotions that were anchored to the bottom of the water, anticipating the daz they'll be discovered and treasured in one's heart. those feelings were unknown to him until he met you.

"what should i say once we meet again?", "what should i do to prove that i'm ready now and don't fear to love or be loved anymore?", "how can i prove my love to you?"

those questions have haunted him in his restless nights, the ones that made him wake up from his deep slumber where he dreamt of you, forehead glistening with cold beads of sweat, gripping his bed sheets tightly. (all of his thoughts and dreams are filled with you.)

the beauty of this world has always been hidden beneath a window curtain, he was oblivious - blind, just how breathtaking the world can truly be.

but you came along, pulling the curtains away, revealing the outside world to him. you stepped into his life and shattered the glass that kept him confined behind the window.

you confessed your unyielding love for him. you love him - you've always done and you always will - you imagined a future which he was a part of. where the vibrant colors of the sun not only greeted you but also him as he laid next to you, side by side. watching as the rising sun kisses your skin with its tendrils of sunshine. 

(he'd follow the rays of sunshine and kiss the same spots they marked, he'd leave a trail of kisses along your body.)

how can he ever repay you for what you've done for him?

a mere thank you wouldn't suffice - not in a million years.

if you were to ask him if he'd give you the sun, the moon, the stars or the whole sky - he would.

if you were to ask him if he'd get on his knees for you - he would, no questions asked. be it when he prays to you, pleas leaving his lips and dripping off his tongue or when he'd kneel down on one of his knees to tie your shoes or propose to you - he would.

if you were to ask him if he'd stay by your side all night or rather all life long - he would. he'd be your light that'd guide you even though the flame went extinct, he'd be your flesh you'd nibble on, he'd be your blood you live off.

he wouldn't hesitate for a single moment, he'd give you everything you yearn and long for in a single heartbeat.

after all, that's the least he can do for you.

@azullumi here extra paragraph again hhihihihuuh anyway when's the stoner!chuuya x stoner!reader fic like where??? also azul i love you a lot. you deserve the best - you deserve the world. i hope you get accepted into your dream uni, get everything you've worked hard for (u deserve it, you're a person full of determination) and yeah convince ur teacher to extend the deadline!!

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

e/n: it's 4am rn im sooooo tired but yeah here!

[satoruhour]

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Royal Duties

I wrote three little one shots for the pole just in case lol so now I'm posting all three

Pairing: Gil Galad x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning light filters through the tall windows of the grand hall, glancing off the polished stone floors and casting a warm glow over the rows of nobility gathered to witness court proceedings. You sit beside Ereinion, the high-backed throne beneath you feeling almost too formal for the mood between you and the king. Ereinion leans forward slightly, face carefully composed, yet his eyes flick over to you with the faintest glint of mischief.

As a particularly haughty lord delivers a speech about his region’s contribution to the realm, you barely manage to keep a straight face. Ereinion clears his throat softly, disguising a chuckle as he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, “I don’t think there’s a single person in this hall who doesn’t already know how ‘noble’ his house is.”

The corners of your mouth twitch, and you turn to him, casting a sidelong glance. “Do you think he’d notice if we slipped out the back?”

“Not if we leave the guards with a very good excuse,” he replies smoothly, casting you a look that suggests he’s half-serious. Then, with the practiced grace of a king who’s held this position for centuries, he adjusts his expression to one of benevolent patience, looking for all the world as though he’s deeply engaged.

The lord finally finishes, and Ereinion, without missing a beat, offers him a solemn nod. “Thank you for your… continued service,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips as the lord bows himself out of the hall.

The moment he’s out of earshot, you lean toward Ereinion, unable to hold back your grin. “Shall we give him a new title? Perhaps Lord of Long-Winded Speeches?”

He bites back a laugh, the sound escaping in a soft breath. “Consider it granted. I’ll have the scribes make note of it.”

The two of you exchange a look, and for a heartbeat, you’re just Ereinion and… well, not the queen, not here under the judgmental gaze of court. Just the two of you, sharing an inside joke.

After several more interactions with various lords and advisors — all of whom seem to be vying to one-up each other — you and Ereinion finally manage a brief escape. You slip into one of the palace gardens, hidden by high walls and leafy trees, where the murmur of court life fades into a distant hum.

He grins, glancing around to make sure no one followed, then gives you a low bow, offering his hand. “My lady, might I steal a dance?”

You raise an eyebrow, taking his hand with mock formality. “I thought we’d save that for the next dreadfully dull council meeting. Just to keep them on their toes.”

“Good point,” he replies, spinning you under his arm in a quick flourish. He catches you in a mock-dramatic pose, his face so close that you can feel his breath, warm against your cheek. His eyes linger on yours, and the flirty banter fades for just a moment as he holds your gaze.

“Should we head back?” you murmur, aware that duty awaits — and that the more time you spend away from court, the more questions you’ll face.

But Ereinion only shrugs, his smile unmistakably mischievous. “Let them wonder. The king and queen deserve a moment to themselves, don’t you think?”

Ereinion’s hand is warm in yours as he spins you down the marble halls, your laughter mingling with his in the quiet, echoing corridors. The two of you move in perfect sync, each step lighter than the last. He dips you dramatically, and you stifle a laugh, whispering, “You know, this isn’t exactly dignified for the High King and Queen.”

“Good thing we’re in the far wing, then,” he replies, grinning as he pulls you upright again. “Besides, a little undignified behavior keeps things interesting.”

You can barely reply as he whirls you around, catching you just as you’re about to stumble. This side of Ereinion, so full of laughter, the sharp edge of command nowhere to be seen—it’s a rare thing, and you savor every second.

Just as he’s twirling you under his arm again, a figure appears at the end of the hall, stepping out from around a corner with raised eyebrows and a barely suppressed smile. Elrond crosses his arms, watching you both with an amused shake of his head.

“Oh, how regal,” he drawls, a glint in his eyes. “The High King and Queen, so tirelessly devoted to their duties, I see.”

You straighten, feigning the most queenly look you can manage despite the laughter bubbling up. “Elrond,” you say sweetly, “do you think I wouldn’t relegate you to writing our correspondence for Lord of Long-Winded Speeches?”

At this, Ereinion throws his head back, his laughter filling the hall. It’s deep, genuine, and utterly without restraint, echoing off the high ceilings as though he hasn’t laughed this freely in an age. Elrond stares, visibly startled, as his king—the indomitable Gil-galad, ruler of the Noldor—doubles over, still clutching your hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

You join him, feeling the tears gather in your eyes as you squeeze his hand tighter, both of you struggling to compose yourselves. Elrond looks between the two of you, his expression utterly dumbfounded.

“Truly,” Elrond finally says, “I’ve seen many things over the years, but this…” He shakes his head in mock exasperation, trying and failing to hide a grin of his own. “I’ll leave you to your… ‘royal duties,’ then.”

With a smirk, you give him a little wave. “We’ll leave you to your actual duties, Elrond. Someone’s got to keep up the kingdom’s standards, after all.”

As he walks away, muttering under his breath about “giggly rulers,” you turn to Ereinion, whose face is still lit up with laughter.

“Shall we?” he asks, still a little breathless.

You both head down the hall, still snickering quietly, leaving a thoroughly shocked Elrond behind. And as you walk hand-in-hand, you can’t help but feel that these moments—the ones stolen from duty, spent in laughter—are what make this life with him complete.

[patito-oward]

Always Been You

masterlist

Prompt: And the other is about how Pato falls in love with the reader, just how he says "oh yeah she's THE ONE"

since this prompt was pretty vague I took a lot of liberties with it, but I still hope you like it :)

Summary: After being dumped by his long term girlfriend, Pato realizes everything he’s ever wanted in a relationship has been right in front of him

WC: 4.1k

It happened very suddenly. Here’s the thing, Pato didn’t mean for it to happen at all. On the list of things he had planned for the year, this was definitely not on it. A 500 win? Definitely. A championship? Yep. Extending his contract with Mclaren? Right again. But starting the off season by being dumped by his long term girlfriend and realizing he’s in love with his best friend was not anywhere in his mind.

It all started at the last race of the season, Pato was leading the championship, and granted he got a podium on this race he would finally have his championship victory. To celebrate and support, almost everyone he knew came to Nashville. Pato rented out a block of rooms at a hotel, and one of the many people who showed up for him was his childhood best friend, YN.

So maybe it all started in 2008, when YN and Pato were in second grade and met on the playground at recess. YN was sitting on the swings reading a book when Pato approached her, he was new to San Antonio and didn’t have any friends, and wanted to know if they could be friends. From then on the two were inseparable. Pato was a daredevil at heart, and would often hurt himself, and YN would take the delicate time of walking him to the school nurse and kissing his injuries better. Pato always made YN laugh, and made sure she was never sad, no matter what happened in YN’s life, Pato was there everyday to make her smile.

As they got older their relationship changed, it lost a little bit of their childish innocence, but they grew so much closer. YN was at Pato’s first win in karting, and she was more excited than he was. When YN’s childhood dog died, Pato was at her house at 6:00 AM and spent the whole day with her, trying to cheer her up. They’d even started their own holiday traditions, every year on Christmas Eve, the two of them spent the day making cookies together and exchanged presents. YN had practically become family, she didn’t have the best home life, and the entire O’Ward family was so loving that she ended up spending more time with them than her actual family.

The two dated for a few months in eighth grade, and were each other’s first kiss, but when Pato began racing for F4 and was in France every weekend the two agreed it was best they just stayed friends. Since then that is all they had been, things in YN’s home got significantly worse as they went through high school and despite whatever Pato may have felt, he knew she needed his friendship and wasn’t willing to risk their relationship.

With Pato coming up through Indycar and YN being a full time student and having a job, it was easy to assume the two would drift after high school, that was never the case. They still saw each other everytime Pato was in Texas and Pato made sure YN made a couple of races every year. She remained his biggest supporter as he went from her hometown best friend to the most popular driver in Indycar.

Fast forward to now, things were going pretty perfect for Pato. He finally won the 500, he’s about to win the championship, and he’s got a great girlfriend, Maria. He figures he’ll marry her, he does love her, she’s supportive and nice and insanely hot. They’ve been dating for over a year and things have been going really well. The only time they’ve ever really fought is over YN, when she found out there was a “history” between them, and in hindsight Pato realizes maybe he should’ve told her sooner, but he never really thought about it. Yeah they’d dated for a few months a lifetime ago, but she’s always just been his YN, he doesn’t even think of her like that anymore. YN was one of the most sure things in his life, and sure for awhile he always thought what if?, but that was in the past.

All that being said, he didn’t think twice about inviting her to Nashville to watch him possibly win the championship. YN wasn’t able to make it to the 500, or any other race this year, and he wished she was there. She knew more than anyone how much this had meant to him, coming up after losses she was always the person he went to, and he wanted her to see him now that it had all been worth it. YN was reluctant to come, but after a lot of begging from Pato she agreed.

Thursday night he made sure everyone he invited out came to dinner with him at a steakhouse. There were 20 people at the restaurant, but Pato ended up with Maria sitting next to him and YN sitting across next to Elba. Maybe Pato should’ve realized it, the tension in her shoulders and how Maria’s smile tightened as he laughed at YN’s jokes, but he didn’t. So Maria sat there all night, and she really tried to be understanding, but she felt as if she was third-wheeling her own relationship. She had to listen to a million inside jokes she didn’t understand, and watch as his family fawned over YN.

It was at that dinner she realized that she’d spent a year dating a taken man. Pato was too good of a man, she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it became undeniable. As she watched him, she realized everything she felt for him, he felt for the woman across the table. At first she felt possessive, the need to prove that he was her partner, and that no matter what he’d chosen her over YN, but as time passed she felt less possessive and realized that there was no way to continue the relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, she deserved a man who loved her and only her, and Pato deserved to be with the person he loves.

After the dinner, they headed back to the hotel where Pato, who was utterly clueless of her realization, continued to be the perfect man, only making it so much harder for Maria to leave. She didn’t know how long she should let it go on for, if she broke things off now would she be getting in his head and ruining the weekend for him? Would continuing a relationship she’s already checking out of be just as cruel? Could she stand the rest of the weekend watching her boyfriend making heart eyes at another woman?

After sleeping on it, or rather not sleeping very much at all, she’d come to the conclusion that a clean break was best for everyone. They ordered breakfast to the room and as they sat at the small dinette she knew she had to bring it up.

Pato was halfway done with his breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten much at all, mostly just pushing her food around with her fork. “Pato, I think we need to talk.”

It’s rare that she’s this serious, and Pato knows that can’t be good, his silverware clatters as he sets it down and looks up at her. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a moment, not knowing the best way to start the conversation. “It’s YN.”

Pato’s shocked, he doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that, “What about YN?”

She figures there’s no reason to beat around the bush, “You’re in love with her.”

Pato’s a lot of things, surprised for sure, but also shockingly defensive and angry. “What? Babe, that’s ridiculous. I know you were upset about us in middle school, but I swear there’s nothing going on! I would never even think about cheating on you!”

She rested her hand on top of his, “I know you would never cheat on me, and I know you said there’s nothing and I believe you, but I saw the way you looked at her, and how she fit into your life, and it makes so much sense because you love her.”

Pato doesn’t really know what to say to that, “I love you.”

“But you are in love with her. Listen I love you, Pato, and you’re such a good man, but it’s not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. Not when your heart clearly isn’t in it.” Maria struggles over her words, voice cracking and eyes watering, but a soft smile is on her face as she says them.

“Are you saying what I think you are? You’re just giving up?”

“Pato, I’m letting you free, tell her how you feel, you deserve that kind of love.”

And maybe what she’s saying finally resonates with him because the best thing he says is, “I never meant to hurt you.”

She lets out a broken laugh at that, a single tear rolling down her face, “Oh, Pato, you never could, we aren’t meant for each other, but we still had a lot of fun, right?” He nods at her.

After that she’s on a plane and back to her home before he knows it. Pato’s sad, he feels a little empty, someone who had been such a big part in his life just walked out leaving the biggest mess in her wake. He thought about her words, but shook them off. He loved YN, of course he did, but it wasn’t like that, she was like a sister to him.

Although it’s not his sister he messages asking if she wants to come over. YN is at his hotel room within a minute of him sending the “you busy?” text. YN asks where Maria is, but all he has to say is “gone.” and YN knows to drop it.

YN knows him better than anyone, knows that he has an irrational fear of being destined to fail at every relationship. She knows he has never actually broken up with a girl, only ever been broken up with, and she knows he spent over two years single because he was afraid of being hurt. But she also knows that there’s no way anyone could spend more than an hour with him and not be in love with him, God knows she is.

It’s the way he knows her, inside and out, but it’s also the way he makes everyone around him laugh, and spends hours interacting with his fans to make them all happy, and how caring he is with animals and babies. YN is only human, how is she supposed to feel when her insanely attractive best friend is doting over her niece?

YN puts it all aside because she’s his best friend first, she’d made that promise to herself a long time ago and she’s always kept it. She sits with him and watches Friends reruns with him, he’ll talk when he wants to, but until then she’ll be by his side.

They don’t end up talking, the one good channel the hotel room has switches from Friends to Modern Family, and then Pato has to go practice. A quick google search helps her find the best tacos in Nashville, so while he’s gone she runs out to get them dinner. They had dinner plans with his parents and Elba, but YN texted Elba long ago to let her know that plans were changing. He’s a superstar, so of course he doesn’t let his life affect him and it still the fastest person in the first practice, YN thinks that’s a good sign.

When he returns he seems to be a little better, talking to YN about track conditions over their dinner. YN has had enough of waiting for Pato to bring it up, and she can tell he’s feeling better, so she has to work up the courage to ask him what happened.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Maria or am I supposed to guess?”

His smile drops, turning into one that’s much smaller and forced. “She just left.”

“No explanation? She just woke up and was gone?”

“Oh, she had an explanation but it was bullshit. She probably just got tired of me, it's no big deal.”

YN furrows her brows at that. “Pato stop it, you’re so great anyone would be so lucky to be with you. Maybe there was some merit behind what she said.”

“Well she said I was in love with you, but I told her so many times we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

YN’s stomach sinks at that, it’s not like she expected him to confess his love, but he didn’t need to friendzone her that hard. “Oh.” Is all she can think to say.

“I mean you’re great, but you’re like a sister to me!”

YN forces out a laugh, “Right.” She also can’t help but feel like maybe it’s her fault this all happened, was her pining really that obvious? “Well then, she’s stupid for leaving because she’s not going to find anyone better.”

Pato’s smile is genuine for the first time since the conversation started, “Thank you, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“Right, and don’t forget that when you’re trying to figure out what to do with all your championship earnings.”

He lets out a real laugh at that, a stark contrast to how mopey he’d been the rest of the day. “One, greedy, and two, I’m not buying you anything else. I'm tired of you getting mad when I spend money on you.”

“Pato, a graduation gift is fifty bucks, not a two thousand dollar tennis bracelet.”

He leans back in his seat and shrugs, smirking as he says, “Yet I’ve never seen you not wearing the bracelet.”

YN’s eyes go to her wrist where, sure enough, the bracelet was, just like everyday for the past three years. When Pato gave her the bracelet she refused to take it, saying it was too much and he needed to return it. After arguing for ten minutes she thought he’d finally agreed to take the bracelet back, but found it later sitting on her dresser. “What can I say? You have good taste.”

The rest of the night mirrored the morning, but had a much different tone, the two of them sat sprawled out on the couch quoting the episodes of Friends that were on, having seen them so many times they were known by heart.

When YN went to her own hotel room Pato realized how empty the place felt again, something he hadn’t noticed all day. He chose not to think too hard about how effortlessly YN took up space in his life.

The next morning, Pato had already scheduled to have everyone meet in the lobby so he could take them to the track for the day. YN had clearly told everyone about Maria because despite some odd looks no one asked about her and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think twice when everyone began to split into different cars and he pulled YN along with him, or when they arrived at the track and Pato sent most people up into a suite, but brought YN and his immediate family to the pits. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, and how it’s supposed to be.

Pato gets swept up in work for the rest of the day and YN gets to spend some real time with her second family. As soon as they’re alone, Elba doesn’t hesitate to start interrogating her.

“What happened with Maria?”

“Apparently she told Pato he’s in love with me and just left.” YN shrugs as she says it, still a little puzzled by the whole thing.

“Huh.”

“What? No ‘huh’ I know what that means just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just thought Maria knew by now and didn’t care, maybe she’s not as smart as I gave her credit for.”

“What do you mean? Knew what?”

“Come on, YN, Pato’s been in love with you since you were nine, I wouldn’t want to be dating him.”

YN is struggling to process what she’s hearing, and automatically turns to deflection. “He is not.”

“Oh my god.” Elba starts giggling maniacally.

YN has no clue what could be funny, “What!?”

“You’re in love with him too!”

“I am not!” Despite her refusal, YN can feel and Elba can see the heat rising up her neck.

“You totally are! All this time I thought you had to know it’s so obvious, I mean, he follows you around like a puppy, but you had no idea!”

“Ok, keep your voice down.” YN puts her hand over Elba’s mouth really not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. “Even if I did like him, and I’m not saying I do, he does not feel the same. I mean you should’ve heard how hard he friendzoned me yesterday.”

Elba looks sympathetic then, “Babe, I think my brother has spent so long denying himself what he wants he doesn’t even know what that is anymore. I love him dearly, but relationships are not his strong suit.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate because I am certainly not going to be the one to ruin our friendship.”

Elba’s exasperated, “Oh my god, you two are exhausting!”

By the time Elba finished her intervention, qualifying finished resulting in Pato getting the pole. Mclaren has been dominant the last few weekends, and this weekend is no different with all three cars in the fast six. Pato is in the driver’s lot, getting ready to head back to the hotel, everyone else had dispersed from the track, and Felix has tracked down Pato and is calling after him.

“Hey, Felix! What’s up?”

“Bro, you’re about to win this fucking thing.” There’s nothing but excitement from Felix for his best friend.

“I know, I just hope tomorrow is a clean race and we can bring this thing home.”

“You’ve got this, I know it. Hey, where’s Maria been all day?” Felix says it like he’s just realizing she’s not around.

“Who knows. Yesterday morning she woke up determined that I’m secretly in love with YN and got on the next plane out.”

“So you guys are done?”

“Yeah about as done as you can be.”

“And YN?”

“YN is my best friend.”

“No, I'm your best friend.”

“Sorry, Fro, even you lose to YN.”

“I don’t want to win what YN is winning.”

Pato rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, huffing, “And what exactly is YN winning?”

Felix puts his hands up in self-defense, “Listen, all I’m saying is if you looked at me like you do YN, I think Emille would feel threatened.”

“Very funny.” Pato kicks the ground, staring at his shoe, he thinks about his relationship with Felix versus his with YN, sure it’s different, but him and YN have so much history. “Look, I don’t know what I feel for YN, but I don’t care either because she’s too important as a friend for me to lose her.”

“Mate you’ve been practically dating for years, I don’t think making it official will ruin anything.”

With that last piece of advice Felix takes off, leaving Pato alone with his thoughts. The whole drive back to the hotel and the rest of the night he spent thinking about YN. If everyone closest to him is saying one thing, how could they all be wrong? He thinks about everything they’ve been through together.

His first win in karting when she was the first person he ran to when he got out of the car; how she comes to every family reunion and often traveled to Mexico to spend time with his family; their senior prom when she was sad about not having a date, but she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen that night; except for Christmas mornings when she’s in her pajamas and he gets to watch her eyes light up as they answer presents together. Maybe it’s been in front of him all along. What’s been missing from all of his other relationships has been right there.

It’s a lot to take in, but it doesn’t really matter because, like he told Felix, he wouldn’t risk their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same. He can handle a trail of failed relationships, but he could never handle losing YN. He went to bed that night knowing he had to just focus on the race and on bringing home the championship.

The next morning he’s awoken by a knock on the door. “Patricio! Open up, room service!”

He knows who’s behind the door before he opens it, there’s only one person who cares enough to bring him breakfast. When he lets YN in he sees the bag full of takeout food from a nearby diner. “Breakfast of champions, for the champion.”

Of course she’s already decided he’s a champion before the race. No one has ever believed in him as much as her. “Calm down, I don't want you to jinx me.”

“Au contraire my friend, a jinx would mean you’re winning by luck, and you are winning by sheer talent.”

It always amazes him how smart she is in the morning, he knows no more than 5 words for a solid hour after waking up, and she’s always speaking a million words a minute. “7AM is too early to be speaking another language.”

“Aw, pobrecito, ¿estás cansado?” She knew very minimal spanish, but had picked some up from time spent with his family, and used it pretty exclusively to tease him.

“You’re so not funny my brain hurts.” He is slouched over the table with his head resting on his arms.

She begins to unpack the food in front of him, “Alright, come on, time to wake up you’ve got a big day.”

The smell of eggs and bacon is what gets him to lift his head and start eating. He tries not to focus on the fact that she got him exactly what he eats every race day because that’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to touch. Regardless he eats the meal, and is sad when she pulls out her pancakes and begins to eat with him. She offers him a bite which he takes, but they both know he won’t eat any more than that because he doesn’t like big meals before a race.

After they finish, YN starts picking up their trash and Pato thanks her, “You take such good care of me, can’t believe you brought me breakfast I’m not worthy.” She’s glad for her back being turned to him because she can feel how much she’s blushing.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, leave it to YN to be the eye in his hurricane, bringing calm before the storm. The race was close, a shitty pit stop meant Pato had to make some big passes to make up position, but Pato ended up pulling away with the final race win of the season and the championship.

YN and Elba leave the suite a few laps early so they can be on pit lane when he gets the win. After his victory lap and celebratory donuts he pulls into pit lane. Immediately his crew is flooding around him as he struggles to get out. Once he does there’s a giant group hug around Pato. Rossi and Fro also both make their way to his pits to congratulate him.

When Felix pulls Pato into a hug he whispers into his ear, “Why haven’t you gone to your girl yet, she’s waiting for you.”

Felix’s words had weight to them, all these people were surrounding him, but none of them had been on this journey with him as long as her. She waited for him for the last 15 years while he chased a career and different women, and now he’s at the peak of his career, having everything he ever wanted, and she’s not the one by his side. It hits him like a ton of bricks how bad he wants her to be the one celebrating this win with him, and every win for the rest of his life. Walking over to YN he pulls her into a hug, hoping that everything he’s feeling can be conveyed through the touch.

YN is in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could do it.”

He can’t find the right words, so all he says is, “I’m so glad you’re here.” he’ll explain later.

Holding her in front of thousands of people, Pato isn’t scared of losing their friendship anymore. He’s not sure of a lot, but he knows they’ll be ok, and that he’s loved her since before he knew what love was.

[shalomniscient]

jingliu angst where she only tolerates you cus u remind her of baiheng sjjahagsab im dead

[nsft utc]

tw. mentions of vomiting (?), unhealthy/toxic dynamic, identity loss

you have always been a stray, hungry for scraps.

it began back on your home planet, ravaged and carved by interastral powers of all its resources, leaving behind a gnawing, gaping hole in the ground and the hearts and bellies of its people. you once mourned your more normal childhood—but the hunger in your stomach and in your soul consumed that too. your meals were few and far between, snatched from the hands of other starving husks, and it was the only joy you ever had as a child. the trickery and the thrill. it’s the only joy you get to keep into adulthood, a twisted elation that grants you a place in the cosmic court of jesters; the masked fools.

it’s—predictably—fun. trickery and thrill are the bread and butter of the fools. your mask affords you many, many opportunities for both, and though you have never had your belly achingly empty since, that hunger in your soul is not so easily sated. now, what you crave is the rush, the adrenaline, the oxytocin. and so you dance on marble floors with a different face each time, with partners who either wish you dead or in their beds, the space between you measured in an unfathomable amount of risk which you exchange for an unfathomable amount of thrill. you scamper along the length of this cosmic ballroom like a starving, feral fox in tall grass, the red of your fur as inviting as the white of your teeth are sharp. you hunt and you haunt, seeking something to fit between your aching teeth, something that will burst on the sharp point of your canines and smear your lips with pure elation and maybe satisfy that abyssal hunger in your psyche.

you have always been a stray, hungry for scraps.

and you have never seen more tantalizing a meal than a devil with a coffin and a woman who seeks to kill a god. she holds the tip of a ice-hewn blade beneath your chin the first time you meet, nicking the delicate skin of your neck, just above your pulse. you swallow. let out a laugh that sounds like a barking fox, and the woman’s sword falters. surprisingly, it doesn’t take much for you to convince her to let you tag along on her fool’s errand. it’s almost poetic. you learn of her name—jingliu. it’s pretty. rolls off your tongue. jingliu doesn’t bother to learn yours, but she calls you fox. you don’t mind the scrap of attention. after all, you’ve spent your whole life living off scraps.

travelling with jingliu (and by extension, luocha) does not lack for excitement. the road to deicide is paved with elation, even if your blue-haired companion refuses to see it. through battle and through the long travel between star systems in pursuit of the great fleet, you get somewhat closer to jingliu. it doesn’t take very long for you to slip into her bedroll (or cot, depending where you are). mara, you find, though cannot be cured can certainly be sated; much like the permanent hunger that curls in your belly. jingliu fucks you until neither of you are coherent enough to feel much of anything, madness or hunger. it’s an arrangement you find yourself enjoying. and as a by-product of such intimacy, you learn more about jingliu. her mannerisms, her illness—her past. she doesn’t tell you any of this, of course, but you can put two and two together from the things she lets slip deep in the throes of some nightmare after fucking you senseless. she gets many of those. the pattern is always the same. at first, she’ll sleep relatively soundly. but then, her brow creases, and her lip curls, and she angrily mutters a few names under her breath; a certain dan feng and yingxing. she curses them, then almost makes a noise like a sob, and something else leaves her lips— another name, but this time spoken with heartache and longing.

baiheng.

it doesn’t take much to infer that this baiheng was someone jingliu cared very much about. though when you ask luocha more about her, he reveals a little detail that makes her moderately more interesting—baiheng was a foxian. in some ways, that makes you similar to her, even though foxian you are not. the thought amused you once, as you looked back upon jingliu’s restless, sleeping form. perhaps jingliu saw her lost lover in you. how… quaint. the assumption never bother you, not really—until she starts to call for baiheng while she’s fucking you.

you’re no stranger to casual sex. even before jingliu, you never lacked for partners eager to share a bed with you. no, the fucking itself isn’t the problem—it’s how she’s fucking you. it isn’t with the detachment and pure lust like you’re used to. instead it’s almost like she cares, hands gentle on your hips as she drives her cock in and out of your greedy cunt. she fills you like she never wants for you to want for anything anymore, and even though you know it isn’t you this affection is for, that jingliu is barely even aware that you’re you and not baiheng, you can’t help but devour it feverishly every time.

you have always been a stray, hungry for scraps. and like this, with jingliu’s cock filling your pussy as she deliriously presses the shape of a dead woman’s name against your neck, you finally feel full.

and it makes you sick.

you crawl out of her embrace and spill your guts every time she falls asleep. your body utterly rejects the feeling—you’ve been so used to starving that the sensation of being full turns you ill. and yet, you can’t seem to push her away. you always come back, always relax under her touch, always pliant for her just to chase that brief, beautiful high you’ve never been able to find anywhere else only to bleed it once she’s done. your heart’s a pythagorean cup; a little too much and you’re spilling over. but you’re so greedy for it, still greedy for her. of all things it is affection that’s the most potent drug you’ve ever tasted, beyond the cheap thrill of oxytocin and adrenaline—even if none of it is meant for you, even if it’s just scraps. but that’s fine.

after all—you have always been a stray, hungry for scraps. and if that means wearing the face of a dead woman and letting the hunger finally devour you whole, then so be it.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Scared

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: ANGST, big feels, hurt comfort, possession?, hurling insults at each other, Astarion being a little scary, fluff ending

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

“How could you!” Astarion shouted.

“How could I? It’s a book Astarion, it's not that deep.” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “Knowledge is for all, not just you.” you snapped at him. 

“I’m not upset you read it, I’m upset you took it from me without asking.” he corrected you in a harsh tone. 

“I didn’t think it was a problem, you told me I could borrow books…” you looked at him with confusion.

“Not that one! The Necromancy of Thay is not just some book.” he looked at you with disbelief. How could you be so naive and reckless? 

“I’m a fucking cleric Astarion! Magic is kinda my whole purpose!” your dedication to Kelemvor was unquestionable and he was debating you about this? This book that could grant you a gift that Kelemvor had not? Speaking to the dead would be a godsend as clergy for the god of the dead, traveling across Faerun to gods know where. 

“Do you understand the danger of that book? No, you don’t, because you're a petulant child who steals others toys when they can’t have them. All you do is take!” he yelled.

You froze. That was a real insult. This wasn’t a little spat anymore, this was a fight. Your first fight in the whole 10 months together. Your heart cracked a bit, but you filled with fire at his harshness. 

“I take? I borrowed a book for a few hours. You literally take my fucking blood out of me daily. Do you know what that feels like over time? It hurts.” your voice wavered slightly but you held strong. 

“But you were oh so willing as long as I was fucking you while I did it!” that was dirty and untrue and he knew it. He said the most hateful thing he could think of and he knew it would cut you deeply.

Your eyes widened, your mouth hung open. “You think this is about sex?.... You conceited jackass! This is about me being in pain for weeks on end and you being too oblivious to see it. Maybe I am nothing more to you than dinner.” you laughed to yourself, the absolute arrogance of this man had you baffled. 

Astarion marched towards you, his face was unfamiliar. All scrunched up in a way you had never seen directed at you. His crimson eyes were practically glowing with rage. He pushed you back so you were trapped between the desk and his arms. He put his face near yours, he sounded like an animal. The growl in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Maybe I should drain you dry…” he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, fangs barely grazing your neck. 

You whimpered and tears flowed down your face. You were legitimately scared. Astarion always asked before he bit you. Yet here he was, threatening to drain you with his fangs at your throat. Your body shook and you let out a sob, trying desperately not to move as you knew his fangs could tear you apart. 

The sob was what cleared his mind. As soon as he heard it all the anger in him disappeared and he just felt sad. He had never seen you cry and the fact that you were now, because of him, it devoured him from inside. He backed up two paces, you flinched when he moved so quickly and it was like a shard of ice into his heart to know he scared you.

“Darling I… I’m sorry… I wasn’t going to… I didn’t mean to scare you” he said, holding his arms out in front of him, surrendering to you. 

You pushed yourself against the desk, desperate to be away from him. Your arms crossed your chest, holding yourself. “Please… don’t hurt me…” you mumbled. He saw the fear in your eyes. 

“I would never…” he said, his eyes were big and round and yet you were terrified. “Please my love, I don’t know what came over me…” he looked at his new ring, it was glowing a soft red.

You looked to where his eyes were, you immediately recognized the ring. The Circle of Malum. It brought out the wearers worst emotions, and turned them cold. Hostile; in exchange for great strength and cunning wisdom. “Take that off…” you pointed at his ring, still too afraid to touch him. 

“What?” he questioned, sounding defensive.

“The ring is changing you Astarion… You’re not yourself…please love…” you spoke out in a hushed tone, still nervous. 

Love. You still loved him? How strange he thought. He looked between you and the ring before flinging it off his finger. It felt as if it was burning him once he knew the truth of its devious exchange. “Little love��� I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean anything I said… I was so angry I - I… I felt out of control.” 

You looked deep into his eyes. No malice, not a single hint of irritation. You saw fear and love, both of which were directed at you. You cautiously moved towards him, hands gently reaching for his face. You tilted his chin up, looking into his eyes. All you could see was the guilt on his face and the sorrow that was radiating off of him. “It's ok, you're ok.” you whispered.

He nodded before he pulled you into a hug. A few stray tears of his landed on your shoulder. You stayed like that for a while. 

“I love you…” he whispered with a small smile. 

You wiped the last of the tears from under his eyes before kissing his cheeks. You glanced down at his lips, his eyes watching you flit back and forth. He leaned in but you closed the space. Gentle, like he was afraid of breaking you. “I love you.” you leaned your forehead against his, breathing him in. 

“Were you able to finish the book?” he asked after a few moments.

You smiled at him, such a curious little thing he was. “Yes.” 

“And?” he said, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“And… Now I can speak to the dead.” you said, pride building in you. 

“Think you can help me read it?” he asked, taking your hand. 

You kissed him quickly, “I think I can manage that.”

He smiled, for what felt like the first time in days.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello all! I hope this is a good one for ya! Idk I was in my angsty sad girl hours and this was the product. Hope you are all doing well <3 As always, thank your for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Talk soon XOXOXOXOXXOXOOXOXOOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXO!!!

[marcelloshdz]

saturday night surprise

summary: after a long week of hardly getting to see each other, you surprise marcello at snl. requested by anonymous.

coming home to an empty house, particularly after a rough day, was always the worst ending. and it was your least favorite part about being in a relationship with someone who’s work schedule was so different than yours. 

this week was an exceptionally busy week for marcello. starting the previous sunday, leading into an off week from snl, he had a few stand up shows in new york and surrounding areas. he was gone for a couple of days, then was back in the city for other promotional stuff; guest spots on a few talk shows, filming commercials, and other things. by the time that was all said and done, it was monday again, and he was getting ready to go back to 30 rock to start working on the next snl episode back. 

it was hard finding time to spend with each other, because you were busy with work too. granted your job didn’t take you all over the place, you still had long work days, that sometimes lasted you anywhere from 10 to 12 hours. most nights, you just wanted to come home to your boyfriend and lounge on the couch with junk food and tv shows. but with his increasing popularity, he was spread thin. 

“how was your day?” marcello asked to you over facetime. he was taking a break between sketch rehearsals to eat and to take some time to talk with you.

“okay. work was busy, so it went by pretty fast. i’m just exhausted.” you let out a loud sigh. “i just wish you were here so we could spend the night together. you know i always sleep better when you’re with me.”

“i know, baby. i’m sorry. i wish i was home too, but there have been a ton of rewrites and rehearsals have been taking extra long this week. at least tomorrow is show day, and ill be back with you on sunday. i still hate that you’re gonna miss the show.” he pouted. 

“me too. i just have a lot of work i have to finished before monday.” you sighed. “but sunday, we’re both free, and will have a true day of rest.”

“finally. i’ve missed you.” he sighed. 

“i’ve missed you too.” you and marcello talked for a little while longer before he had to get back to rehearsal. you shared your good nights and i love yous, and hung up. you finished your dinner before moving to your bed. 

the next night was saturday, and you and marcello had the briefest of exchanges before you went your separate ways for the day. you had some errands to tend to, and you knew he’d be gone to work by the time you were finished. upon your return home, you got started on the projects and paperwork you needed to finish for your job, returned some emails and sat through a couple meetings. as you were wrapping up, you checked the time and saw that it was getting close to 11:30. 

deciding you didn’t want to sit home alone all night, you got ready and headed out to 30 rock. you arrived at the nbc studios, and went in. luckily, you were on marcello’s guest list, and they let you in and led you upstairs. you successfully evaded other snl cast members, writers, and producers, and followed the motion into the audience before the show started.

you took your seat on the lower level, at the end of the row. the crew was bustling around as they were getting ready for the show to start. the stage was finally set for the cold open, and the show began. 

the first couple of sketches went by, and you’d been laughing the whole time. as the show went on, the sets changed, and the casts changed in and out of costumes, you’d successfully made it through half the show without being noticed. 

you watched as marcello took the stage, getting ready for the next sketch. he was standing with a couple other cast members when he turned in your direction. you watched as his eyes scanned the crowd, finally landing on you. you watched as the widest smile spread across his face, and the lightest tinge of pink flushed to his cheeks. he shot you a wink before the show came back from commercial. 

you laughed throughout the entire sketch, and marcello kept shooting glances in your direction just to make sure you were enjoying it. once it ended, marcello walked off the stage, into the crowd, and took your hand in his, pulling you up from your chair. he led you through winding hallways before returning back to quick change area.

once you were well hidden away from the cast and crew, marcello took your face in his hands and pressed a hard kiss to your lips. 

“what are you doing here?! i thought you couldn’t get away from work?” he asked, out of breath when he separated his lips from yours. 

“i finished early, and i missed you too much to spend another night without you.” you said, kissing him again. 

“i’m so happy you’re here.” he said softly, smiling at you.

“me too.”

marcello wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you back to his dressing room. the show was almost over, and he wasn’t in the last sketch, you the two of you hung out and watched the end of the episode until he had to be back onstage for goodnights. afterwards, once it was time to leave, the two of you headed home, blissfully anticipating finally getting to spend the night together. once you got back home, you both began to wind down and get ready for bed.

you were laying down in bed, watching marcello move around the room until he finally joined you under the covers. he quickly came to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and peppering your skin with kisses, starting on your arm, trailing up to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, then finally meeting your lips.

“i love you.” he said softly, resting his forehead.

“i love you.” you repeated. you shared another kiss before finally turning the lights out and going to bed. the two of you slept better than you had in weeks, knowing that you didn’t have to get up the next morning, and could finally just be with each other.

[rekino2114]

How did the " I am a devil/ one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse" for Makima and Fami and how long did it take

I was curious about how this situation played out ever since the Asa/Yoru relationship headcanon, given it was a requirement for the relationship to continue/start and anyone who has a speck of emotional intelligence involving romance would tell you honesty is key to a long lasting healthy relationship not to mention dating one of the most powerful devils in the world is something you should be given a heads up about going forward.

Makima revealing her identity to you

A/n:sooooo I might have gotten a bit too much into writing this for makima and wrote more than usual i feel like what I had in mind for fami was kinda shorter than this and that it wouldn't have been fair in my head (also I didn't have that much time to finish it anyway) I'll do the fami part of this tomorrow in another post. Sorry for the inconvenience and if that's not what you wanted.

As much as she hated to admit it, makima was scared.

Fear was a rare but not new emotion to her, the only times she felt it was when you were fighting a strong devil like a primal one or when you were close to death in general. But all of those instances of her fear had something in common: she was scared that you would die that you would be ripped away from her in an unfair way, she never consider the fact that you would leave her of your own volition.

Makima took for granted the fact that you would love each other and be together forever, after all she loved you more than anything she could ever do could describe and you loved her too, she would literally give you the world if you just asked for it, as long as you would be with her you would get anything you could have possibly ever wanted in exchange of just continuing to love her. She had never thought you would have a reason to leave her...until now.

She had tried to delay this conversation as long as possible, only deciding to tell you after months of you dating (close to a year),the reason why she decided to reveal her identity to you was simple: it was better to tell you than you finding out some other way, you would have felt betrayed by her if you had found out without her telling you beforehand, the last thing she wanted to do was make you feel like she didn't love you.

The reason she waited so much before telling you was because she had no idea what would happen to her if you left her. Maybe she would have gone back to her old self, but she doubted it, the her from before was someone who had never loved and never been loved, and the hypothetical her was someone's who had that loved torn away from her because of nothing but herself. She would either become an even worse version of the emotionless control devil or she would have just asked denji to eat her to end her pitiful existence.

"Hey makima you called me right?"

You entering her office snapped her out of her thoughts, she put on a fake smile and started talking to you

"Yes darling,please sit down"

You did as she said and looked at her, the way she was smiling felt forced and you could see that.

"Is everything alright? You look worried"

".....you really understand me... I have to tell you something it's....really important"

"Sure what is it?"

Seeing you smile so innocently and warmly at her made her heart skip a beat. She could never hurt you, and that included lying to you.

"I want to tell you something that will definitely change your view of me in many ways but before I do that please know that I love you I always have and I always will, none of the loving words I told you were lies and none of the actions I have done have been made to manipulate you in any way, what I feel for you Is love at the purest state"

Makima stopped and you nodded at her as a sign to continue

"I.........am the control devil"

She gave you time to process what she said before starting to speak again with her head lowered as to not see your reaction.

"I am one of the four horseman of the apocalypse, some of the strongest devils that exist, I have the ability to control anyone who I feel is beneath me, please know that I have never used it on you as I both can't and despise the thought of"

Makima could feel her heart sink deeper and her face sweating more with every word she uttered she was so afraid of your reaction she still could bring herself to confront you face to face.

"I-i have just one request for you, I understand if you hate me for lying to you but let me explain myself, I have never been truly loved in my life until I met you you have made me feel emotions for the first time in my life and.....I can't lose you it would mean losing the part of me that i value most...s-so-"

Makima finally raised her head to look at you, tears that she never even realized were there ran through her cheeks.

"Please don't leave me"

Makima had never cried tears that were of true sadness all of the times that tears were present in her eyes they were ones of happiness caused by you, she had never felt sad enough to cry.....until now, she also felt very embarrassed that you saw this vulnerable side of her so she quickly lowered her head again expecting you to insult her or run away. What greeted her were not harsh words but your warm hands wrapping themselves around her body.

"It's fine I forgive you, what you did just now proved to me not only that you love me but that you are as much of a human as everyone else"

Makima was so shocked at your answer: You not only forgave her but considered her a human? She opened her mouth to speak, but as if you could read her mind, you answered her question even before she could ask it.

"You were worried I was gonna leave you, so much that you cried, you were worried that the person who showed you what love and emotions truly are was going to reject you just because of something you were born as and that doesn't define who you are now. That's an incredibly human thing to feel. Your tears were real, I'm sure of that, I've known you for enough time to know when you're faking emotions and that....was probably the most real display of feelings I have ever seen, you are a person makima, a person that I love and will continue to love forever"

Makima fell silent for a moment she needed a moment to fully realize what was happening but as soon as she did she hugged you just as you were doing to her, she raised her face to look at yours and even if the tears were still in her beautiful ringed eyes, a wide smile was now present on her face.she was crying tears of joy

"Thank you, just thank you so much, i promise i will treasure you forever I can't tell you how incredibly happy I feel right now"

"It's nothing, you treated me with nothing but love ever since I met you, I would never leave you"

You kissed her lips to once again affirm your love to her, she did the same and what resulted was a kiss filled with nothing but pure unfiltered love between the two of you.

"I love you"

"I love you too, more than words can describe, just....thank you for loving me"

[doumadono]

i can just imagine enji taking his sweet girl’s virginity! her tears, his moans.

(please i want this written so baddd)

Warnings: deflowering, blood, Enji is divorced

SINFUL SUNDAY

Dating Enji Todoroki, the renowned Number One Hero, had been a whirlwind experience. Despite the significant age difference, his gruff demeanor, and the shadows of his past, you'd fallen hard for the man beneath the hero's façade. The days you spent together were a blend of passion, understanding, and warmth.

One evening, as you snuggled together on his plush living room couch, a cozy fire crackling in the background, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you'd come. The two of you were wrapped in each other's arms, Enji's muscular frame providing a comforting shield.

You leaned your head on his broad shoulder, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Enji, I never thought I'd find someone like you."

He turned to you, his sharp eyes softening as he met your gaze. "And I never expected to find someone who could see past the hero and see the man."

You traced a finger over his chiseled jawline. "I love the hero, but I love the man even more."

Enji's lips quirked into a small, genuine smile. "You've brought light back into my life. After the divorce with Rei, I thought I'd be alone forever."

You kissed his cheek and nestled deeper into his embrace. "You're not alone, Enji. You have me, and I'm not going anywhere."

He let out a deep sigh, his arms tightening around you. "I don't deserve you."

You shook your head. "It's not about deserving, it's about what feels right. And being with you feels right, Enji."

On that particular evening, your passionate make-out session had reached an intense level. Deep kisses and exploratory caresses had ignited the room. Enji's hands, once focused on your upper body, began to venture lower, his calloused fingers gently caressing your lower thighs.

Both of you were partially undressed - you from the waist up and Enji as well. As his touch grew more intimate, he attempted to explore further, trying to slip his fingers between your legs. However, when he made this move, you pulled back slightly, placing your hand on his to stop him. "We can't do this. I'm a virgin, and I'm not ready yet, Enji," you exclaimed.

Todoroki was taken aback by your confession. Throughout your previous dates, he had assumed that you were simply taking the relationship slow and easy. The realization that you were still a virgin and likely very inexperienced surprised him, and turned him on at the same time. Despite his initial frustration, Enji respected your wishes. With a sigh of understanding, he reluctantly ended your make-out session for the day, realizing that some things were worth waiting for.

With an air of confidence, the next time found you entangled in a passionate embrace, this time within the confines of your shared bedroom. As per tradition, both of you were already bared from the waist up, setting the stage for a night of unrestrained desire. Amidst the heated exchange of kisses, Enji proposed a new level of intimacy, suggesting that you both shed the remaining layers and continue in just your underwear for the sake of comfort. It was a proposition he half-expected you to challenge, but to his astonishment, you granted your consent without hesitation. Without missing a beat, the two of you promptly disrobed to nothing but your undergarments.

The fervent exchange of kisses continued, as Enji once more sought to explore the depths of your desires, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path toward your pussy. Although initial hesitance tinged your reactions, he remained determined, kissing you deeply and caressing your right breast, all the while allowing his right hand to venture closer to the haven of your womanhood. You squirmed ever so slightly, yet your unyielding commitment to the passionate exchange prevailed. Time passed, and his unwavering determination yielded its desired result. Overcome with arousal, your legs involuntarily began to part, a silent testament to the undeniable chemistry that ignited the fervor between you two. Soon yet, your undergarments went off as well.

In a display of unyielding confidence, Enji found himself nestled between your legs, taking control of the situation. The firm, throbbing tip of his cock hovered teasingly at the threshold of your cunny, tantalizing but not yet delving inside. You two were locked in a passionate embrace, mouths fused together, hands exploring, every sensation amplified except for that final, exquisite connection.

The anticipation was palpable. Enji's craving for you was evident as he let the tip of his dick glide sensually along the contours of your eager sex. It wasn't just him who was feeling it; you were equally consumed by desire, so much so that your legs involuntarily spread wider in anticipation.

With exquisite patience, he commenced his conquest. He inched his way into your eager cunt, each thrust bringing him deeper into your sweet cherry. As he kissed you with unrestrained passion and caressed your every curve, he felt the sweet resistance of your soft, quivering flesh gently welcoming him. Your silky, moist folds enclosed around him, bit by tantalizing bit, creating a symphony of sensations that heightened the intensity of the moment.

As you came to realize that you were about to be deflowered, a surge of uncertainty washed over you. In an attempt to regain control, you attempted to close your legs, but it was futile as his cock was already partially penetrating your pussy.

Soon, Enji was at your cherry and he could feel the barrier. As he distracted you with more kisses, he thrust his entire, huge cock into your pussy and poped your cherry.

You cried out a little and he held still to let you get used to the feeling. "It hurts, Enji! Oh my God!"

Enji leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto yours as he gently cupped your face with one hand, his fingers grazing your cheek, and he whispered, "You're incredibly brave."

As the flames of passion began to smolder and a sense of tranquility settled between you, you found solace in the comforting press of your lips against Enji's once more. The connection between you was undeniable, even as he remained rigid, buried deeply within you.

With a measured grace, he eased his pulsating length partway out of your cunt, its surface glistening with a mixture of your shared desire and the hint of blood. A bead of crimson oozed out of your cunt and Enji groaned deeply at the sight. He was oh so turned on.

While you continued your fervent exchange of kisses, he embarked on a deliberate rhythm. The pace was unhurried yet his thrusts were strong.

Your cunt was so tight and felt great. Soon, you started getting into the rhythm of the fucking and were enjoying yourself, moaning a little, yet some tears rolled down your cheeks as you were filled to the brim by Todoroki's dick.

"That's it, doll, take it. Relax for me," he instructed in that low voice of his. His cock was buried balls-deep in your cunt, his balls slapped against your pussy with each of his thrusts.

In that intense moment, Enji's passion reached its zenith, and he thrust into you with an unrestrained fervor, delving as deeply as he possibly could, growling. Within a matter of heartbeats, his primal desire led to an explosive release deep within your recently deflowered cunt, filling you with the warmth of his seed.

Your shared bed bore witness to the mingling of passion and vulnerability. The culmination of your encounter left a tapestry of intimacy etched upon your bodies, with a mixture of cum, blood, and the juices of your union exuding from your vagina. You reclined, breathless and satisfied, a hand instinctively moving to shield your modesty, your fingers grazing over your tender core; you were shivering all over your body.

But Enji wouldn't allow you to hide in that vulnerable moment. His voice, filled with sincerity, broke through the haze of post-passion, "Stop it, Y/N. You're incredibly beautiful. And I love you." He wrapped his strong arms around you, kissing your temple.