#we were yearning only to be hit with the ''i'm right here''

[suugarbabe]

Mom (can I call you mom?) I need a DISGUSTING AMOUNT OF FLUFF like I need kisses YEARNING HOD THE YEARNING!?!??!?!!!!???! I'm talking DIABOLICAL angst “did you touch her?” WOUND CLEANING DESCRIPTIVE CUDDLING AND AND MOM AND I NEED MAYBE LITTLE SMUT WITH EITHER SIRIUS BLACK OR LORENZO BERKSHIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure scratching my skin begging you please your writing is my lifeline MOM FEED ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hiii lovie! mom, mommy, mommy sab; all appropriate and approved 😌

thanks sm for the request! I haven’t written smut in a hot minute so I do apologize if it’s a little jank. otherwise here you go babes (I chose Enzie baby btw)

The feeling of Enzo’s nose nuzzling against your neck before his lips attached to skin was dizzying. Your senses overloaded with all that was him and as one of his large hands splayed across your back, pulling your hips flush to his while his other braced his weight against the corridor wall you were pressed against.

“Enz,” you gasped his name out as his lips attached to a particular sensitive area just beneath your ear. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin, dragging his lips down your neck once more before finally pulling away and meeting your eyes. “I can’t help myself, baby,” Enzo’s voice was low, almost groaning out his sentences before burying his face in your neck once more, “I just wanna devour you in the hall.”

You let out a gasping laugh, knotting your fingers through his hair to pull him off you. The fuckers eyes rolled at the action, “Fuuuck, baby, love it when you’re not afraid to be rough in front of others.” His tone of slightly teasing, allowing you to push him back a step by his chest. “You’re ridiculous Enz, and we’re both going to be late.”

Enzo only smirked as he threw an arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your next lesson, “You know McGonagall actually loves me. she only gives that disapproving look to the people she cares for.” You shook your head with a grin, pushing his arm off your shoulder as you entered the classroom.

As you stepped away from his to head to your own table, Enzo grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you back to his chest before grabbing your face and slotting his lips between yours once more. “I think that’s enough, Mr. Berkshire. You’re about hitting my limit of affection displays for the term,” Professor McGonagall firmly directed your boyfriend to his seat with a pointed finger.

Your cheeks burned red as you found your own seat a few tables in front of him. “Today we will be working in partners,” McGonagall’s began, quickly having any murmurs of the class turns to groans of complaint with her finished sentence, “that I have already chosen for you.” Thankfully you were not paired with anyone too disastrous; instead getting a very nice ravenclaw boy who was immensely helpful. Even showing you how to properly hold your want to get the incantation just right.

Which all really seemed innocent enough. At least in your mind. But on your way to dinner your heard it. That sharp change in Enzo’s voice that only comes out when his possessive side does. “I’ll ask you again, and for fucking Salazar’s sake you better have a good answer. Why were you touching what isn’t yours to fucking touch?”

You couldn’t see him yet, but it was quite easy for you to visualize; that little tilt in Enzo’s head when he’s asking a question almost mockingly. Because he doesn’t really care about the answer. He’s going to hurt them either way.

There was a small crowd formed around them; you had shoved your way through a few people just in time to see Enzo’s fist connect with the Ravenclaw’s face one, two, three times before you’re calling out to Theo and Matty to stop him.

Now Enzo was pouting on the edge of his bed, trying to keep his sour look while you dabbed a gauze over his split knuckles. “Hey, that hurts!” Enzo flinched his hand back with a hiss. You smacked the side of his thigh before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back towards you, “Stop being a baby, this is your fault you know! Beating on someone for no good reason. We need to get your jealousy in check.”

Enzo rolled his eyes at your words. You were having none of it, grabbing his chin and forcing his eyes to look at you, “Don’t do that.” He narrowed his eyes at you; you could almost see the gears turning in his brain to make some sort of smart ass remark. You really didn’t want a fight, even if it was half hearted.

You repositioned your grip on his chin, catching his off guard with a hand on his throat as you pull his lips to yours. He responded quickly, his hands going for your hips and pulling you to his lap. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he pulled you both further on to the bed.

You pushed back on his shoulders, Enzo taking the hint on laying back on the bed, pulling you with him. You braced yourself on either side of his head as you deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth as you ground your his down to his, causing you both to moan.

You trailed your lips across his jaw, over the skin of skin of his neck, “You know there’s nothing to be jealous of, baby…” Enzo let out a strained grunt as your teeth grazed his collar bone, your fingertips dancing along his sides causing his muscles to twitch.

“The only one I ever want is you, Enzie baby…maybe I just need to remind you how much I appreciate you, hmm?” You sat up, pulling your shirt over your head. Enzo’s eyes grew wide, his pupils dilating, iris’s growing darker. His hands were immediately on you, marveling at your bare skin, squeezing at your waist when your fingers began undoing his trousers, “Oh fuck baby, yeah?”

He raised his hips eagerly, allowing you to slide everything down his legs. You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them the rest of the way off, his eagerness nearly radiating off him as he laid down again.

You continued to work him with your hand as you kissed and nipped at his thighs, his hips bucking, begging for more. “Patience, baby,” you teased, biting and sucking at the meat of his thigh before soothing it with your tongue. Enzo opened his mouth for a smart remark but all words were lost as you chose that moment to drag your tongue up the length of his shaft.

“Fuuucking hell, baby,” you had barely gotten started and already he was praising you. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock as you spit on the head, using your other hand to spread it along his shaft before wrapping your lips around him. Enzo let out a whine of a moan, and gods did he sound so pretty.

You started to bob your head, just shallowly at first, enough to get him worked up. Then you released with a pop, a gasp leaving his lips and almost a complaint before you took one of his balls in your mouth, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as your hand still pumped his length, thumb swiping over the tip and making his thighs twitch.

You took the other side in your mouth, flattening snd lengthening your tongue to graze that sensitive patch of skin just before his hole that had his whole body jolting and his fingers lacing in your hair. “Holy fucking Salazar, fuck, baby you keep doing that and i’m gonna cum, but I need to be in your mouth, yeah? Please baby let me fill that pretty little throat of yours,” Enzo was practically whimpering, begging. And who were you to deny such polite requests.

You flattened your tongue again, letting him fill your mouth with his cock until you could feel him hit the back of your throat; then you pushed him a little further, testing your gag reflex and swelling around the head of his cock. Slurred expletives mixed with your name spilled from Enzo’s lips as you repeated the action. You dragged your nails along the side of his abdomen, feeling the muscles in his stomach twitch and you knew he was close.

You did your best to relax your throat, Enzo’s grip on your hair getting stronger and you allowed his full length in your mouth and down your throat, nose brushing his pelvic bone. “Oh gods oh fuck oh fuck, baby i’m cumming..i’m cumming, i-i’m cum-“ a string of whining moans left his pretty pink lips as he held his cock down your throat and filled your mouth before his grip on your head lightened.

You swallowed everything he gave you, making sure to drag your tongue up his length, licking his tip clean and smirking at the way his stomach twitched before releasing him from your mouth. Enzo’s chest rose and fell rapidly as you kissed up his stomach, over his chest and along his neck before connecting your lips with his.

He hummed into the kiss before pulling away slightly and cupping your cheek, “Mmm you know I can’t guarantee I won’t get jealous again..not when I know you can do that.” You smiled, brushing your knuckle against his cheek, “That’s okay, Enz baby. I’ll just have to remind you of your appreciating again.”

[startagainstartagainstartagain]

...we might have an odile in here

[sturnsdarling]

lowkey following your "ITS 2AM, AND I MISS YOU" fic... but ex!matt who hits up your phone again, drunk or high, pleading to come to your place cos he's so horny and he just needs you. he's literally a rambling mess, not making any sense, but he just has the urge to taste you, he's yearning for it cos thats the only thing that could make him feel better rn... roaring crying screaming pissing everywhere.

'need to taste you'

ex!matt is in his feelings, and they're all directed at you

vibe check: matt the much, face riding, cum eating, smoothtalker!matt, desperate!matt, needy!matt, confident!reader, all the things we love

1.8k words

A/N: i asked for smut reqs and cas said 'bet'. in my head this is separate from my other ex!matt fic because they're somewhere in love so think of this as an alt universe. MATT THE MUCH COME EAT ME

love and cigs, merc

"this is ridiculous, Matt" You huffed down the phone

"come on, baby, please, I miss you" he cooed, desperation thick in his voice.

"you can't call me that anymore" you rolled your eyes, a silent smile forming on your face on the other end of the phone.

"why not? you'll always be my baby" Matt pressed on, his own smile clear in his voice.

"what is the point in all this, Matt?" you said, tired of the back and forth.

You saying his name sent shivers down his spine, "I jus' miss you" Matt shrugged, sighing down the phone.

"you miss me?" you repeated his words with a flat, unimpressed tone

"mhm" Matt said, "I miss all of you, the way you looked at me, the way you say my name, just like you keep doing now"

"Matt..." you said, almost warning him

Matt groaned slightly, a bulge forming in his joggers, "just like that, baby, I love it when you say my name"

"you're unbelievable" you said, rolling your eyes

"and you're unbelievably sexy" he taunted, "I just need you all the time, i've not stopped thinking about you since we broke up"

you couldn't help but smile at his persistence, and you finally gave into that little voice in the back of your head telling you to see how far this could go.

"thinking about me, how?" your tone shifted

Matts heart fluttered in his chest with excitement, "about your eyes, your laugh, your smile, the way you look arched over the bed for me, spread out like the perfect girl you are" Matt said, his voice nearly a whisper

"what else?" you pressed, a pool of wetness gathering in your underwear as he spoke

"this morning, I was thinkin' about that time you gave me head in the bathroom at that family dinner, about how pretty you looked on your knees for me, my cock pressed to the back of your throat" Matt began to palm himself over his joggers, his stiff cock aching for you.

"that was fun" you giggled

"yeah, it was" Matt chucked back, trying to stifle his moans, "I jus' need you here, I feel like I'm goin' crazy without you"

you rolled your eyes, shifting were you sat, "how crazy?" you asked

"insane, baby" Matt said, his words hiding his small whimpers as he palmed himself to the sound of your voice.

"crazy enough to beg?" you said, a menacing feeling washing over you.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he swapped hands, pressing his phone to his other ear and pressing his other hand into the stiff bulge in his pants.

"you want me to beg you?" he asked, curiously turned on by your confidence.

"mhm" you hummed, pushing the sound out your throat to mimic a moan.

Matt paused for a moment weighing the pros and cons of giving into you this way, he came to his decision very quick.

"please, baby" he started.

you chuckled, "is that it?"

Matt chuckled, "you're usually the one begging, cut me some slack"

"just try" you pressed.

Matt whimpered slightly, "please, let me see you, pretty girl, I promise I'll make everything up to you, I'll make it right" begging was new to him, but his words were sincere.

"how?" you were grinning like a cheshire cat on the other end of the phone.

"how ever you want me too, baby, I'll do anything you want, I'll be all yours again and you can use me, however you like" Matt continued, the neediness in his voice becoming more and more present. "I just need to taste you, make you feel good, make you moan my name over and over again till you cant remember how to pronounce anything else, please, baby, you're the only thing that'll make me feel better"

Matt was rambling, lost in the feeling of his big hand pressing and tugging at his clothed cock, loving the way it felt to beg you, loving the feeling of giving himself over to you like this.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you fought the urge to touch yourself to his soft words, he sounded so needy, so desperate for you, you loved it.

"just a little more" you whispered, wanting to see how far he'd go to get you back

Matt whined, bucking his hips up into his hand desperately as he chased the friction, "please, princess, you're all I want, please let me show you"

You paused with a sigh, the line going silent for a moment before you spoke, "okay"

"okay?" Matt shot up from his laid position on his bed

"yeah, come see me" you said, a smile on your face at the sound of him so giddy.

"I'm on my way, baby" Matt said, quickly, before hanging up the phone.

you were spread out on your bed, back arched into Matts mouth.

His pace on your clit was feverish, sucking it into his mouth with intense pressure as his long fingers pumped in and out of your soaked pussy. The moans leaving your throat were guttural, coming from a place of pure pleasure as he brought you to mind numbing orgasm again and again.

Matt felt high, high off the taste of you on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your perfect pussy, drinking you in like a man starved. He was spread out, naked on your bed with his face buried in your heat, rutting his hips desperately into the sheets, chasing the soft friction, feeling as if he could cum just from eating you out.

He pulled his fingers from you, pressing your legs open wider for him as he pushed him tongue inside you, your wetness gathering on his tongue as he moaned at the taste.

"you taste so fuckin' good, princess" He groaned, diving back into your heat.

"Matt" you cried out, gripping onto his hair for leverage as you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you once more.

your whole body was on fire, your legs shaking around his head as Matt's relentless pace on your pussy sent you tumbling down into another orgasm.

Matt moaned into your core, reeling in the taste of your cum pooling in his mouth, he rutted his hips into the bed, unable to control his desperate movements. He licked you lean, pressing his flat tongue to your sensitive pussy, collecting up all your juices on his tongue with a whimper. Your stomach tensed and you flinched at the sensation, so sensitive from his merciless attack on your spent pussy.

Matt reluctantly tore his mouth from you, pressing two gentle fingers to your core before bringing them up to work soft circles on your clit. His mouth was glistening with you cum, eyes pouring into yours as he looked up at you from his position. Your brows furrowed at his touch, wanting to tell him that you couldn't take it but unable to bring yourself to.

"you're so perfect, baby" he cooed, "all of you" he cooed down to your glistening pussy with adoration, pressing a soft kiss to your puffy folds.

"I could cum just from the taste a'you" Matt said just before bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.

"so do it" you said, a surge of confidence flowing through you as the after shock of your orgasm subsided.

Matt paused, locking his shocked eyes with yours as you grinned at him.

"cum from the taste of me, Matt" you pressed, sitting up as you maintained eye contact with him.

Matt groaned, tensing his jaw as he took a deep, calming breath in.

Within seconds, you were sat on his face, being pulled down into him with one hand as his other pumped his throbbing length.

You were grinding against his face, using his hair as handle bars and pressing your pussy into his tongue relentlessly as he moaned from under you, his sounds muffled by your folds pressing against his lips.

Matt was pumping himself, hard and fast, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sensation of you riding his face as he fucked his hand. Uncontrollable whimpers left his mouth as he let you use his tongue for your own pleasure, reeling in the sight of you above him as he touched himself over you.

"this what you wanted, Matt?" you cooed, "you wanted me to use you like this? let you prove t'me how sorry you are?" you weren't sure where this confidence was coming from, but you loved it.

Matt nodded, needy eyes pouring into yours as you dragged your pussy across his face. His hips were stuttering into his hand, his pace on his cock never wavering as he desperately chased his high

"so good" you sighed through a small moan, "you always know how to make me feel good, Matt" your grip on his hair softened sightly.

Matt whined into your pussy, the sound sending vibrations up your spine, urging you to grind down harder onto his mouth.

"how could I ever stay angry at you, huh?" you said, trying to sound as confident as possible despite the blissful feeling of Matts tongue pressing into your gummy walls, "I forgive you, Matt"

Matts grip tightened on his cock, fucking into his hand like a jack hammer at the sound of your words, completely lost in the taste of you. With a few final, stuttering thrusts, Matt came all over his stomach, releasing warm cum onto his skin, he sucked your folds, clenching his eyes shut as his whole body tensed beneath you.

He used his oral hold on your pussy as guide through his orgasm, moaning and whimpering into your skin as he lapped and kissed at your core, kissing it like he would your mouth. You smiled down at him, moaning as you rutted your hips against his face slightly, soft hands caressing his hair.

once his breathing had steadied, you rose up and climbed off of him, the lack of friction earning a needy whine from Matt as his hands flew to your body instantly. You chuckled, laying down next to him, placing your leg just below the pool of cum on his stomach.

"i've never seen you like that before" you said, softly as you stared at the white liquid collecting in his belly button.

Matt couldn't take his eyes off you, the taste of you lingering on his tongue.

"I told you, baby, I've been goin' crazy over missin' you" Matt chuckled.

you hummed, shifting slightly so you were perched over his legs, you used your arms to keep you up as you brought your tongue down to his stomach, licking a stripe through the small puddle and collecting his cum on the flat of your tongue with a smile.

Matt groaned at the sight, mouth agape as he watched you swallow his seed with a grin.

"you want me to show you how much I missed you?" you tilted your head to the side

Matt nodded his head rapidly, gathering your hair in his large hand as excitement swelled in his chest.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

[sixerstanley]

hey. you got any good stancest fic recs? 👀 i trust your opinion over any other stancest blog rn

!!!!!!

Omg, that is so so sweet????? I'm not sure what I did to earn that trust, but thank you!!!

Okay, here are some of my favs, but I'm still making my way through the tag!!

What We Used To Be - By fractured_hourglass (M)

Here's one of the fics I first read when I got into stancest, it broke into my home and tore my heart apart with its angst but it was so GOOD???? SO fucking good, great angst, spectacular writing and characterization. It takes place between stanchurian candidate and last mabelcorn, so don't expect a happy ending in the first part, BUT it's insanely good. The summary is that Stan and Ford are trying to learn to live together again, but they keep fighting, and implications that they were something more...makes everything worse. And when Jimmy Snakes, an old fling of Stan's is back in town, Ford gets more and more irritable until shit hits the fan. There is also a part 2 now that wraps everything up nicely!

Any Way You Want It - By Pandame (E)

An untraditional A/B/O fic that is deliciously hot. Ford comes out of the portal...different.

Miss Missing You - By theywerefireworks (E)

A fic post weirdmageddon where Ford tries to make Stan remember their shared memories together--even if they aren't all that pretty.

Oral Communication - by fishingboatblues (E)

Stan starts leaving notes in code, leaving Ford to decipher them.

Sweet Dreams and Glacier's Rock - by Frondere (E)

The twins take a trip, and there's only one bed 👀

everything you feel is good - by businessboyjared (E)

A delightful pwp where Ford walks in on Stan watching porn. What happens next will shock you.

TV Remotes and Ice-Cream - by wubdub_redux (G)

A really sweet fluffy fic about Stan being awkward about his feelings, but luckily Ford is really dense.

And last, but CERTAINLY not least, a fic I'm still reading right now and it's in progress but is SO good:

many dreams come true, and some have silver linings - by GoodbyeBabylon (E)

This fic is just. Chefs kiss. It's so well done. It's the pining Stancest fic I have yearned for, where they are OLD and PINING and STILL have trouble communicating. It's so so good guys. Highly recommend.

And there you have it!! There are probably some I'm forgetting, and like I said I'm still going through the tag, but please enjoy! :D

[kentoxo]

can we have a gojo fic where his best friend is a girl, with a gung-ho personality, and she challenges him and makes him feel alive.

They kept their feelings for each other hidden so well for 10 years of their friendship since highschool.

a year of them not speaking, their friendship dissolved into nothing after a petty argument.

So when Satoru sees her walking in the bubbly way she always did at their highschool reunion, he pounces at her.

smutty, angsty, a bit heartwarming. have fun

OOO I like this! 100% gojo's kind of woman and honestly inspiration for his crackhead energy. Thank you anon for this req!

pairing: reader (f) x bestfriend!Gojo

synopsis: Gojo never imagined he'd ever see you again. You were the catalyst of his refined, carefree spirit. He yearned for you. And little did he know that you did for him as well.

warning: rated m for making out, fingering, eating out

a/n: I've been beside myself regarding whether I want this in the normal jjk world or a slice of life au. i think normal for more writing freedom

The first time Satoru Gojo saw you, it was during class intermission. Your high school was very kind and gave you all the teenager-equivalent to recess. They gave you the option to either hang out in the library, hit the gym, or lounge outside the back of the school.

Satoru was a simple teen, always choosing to go outside just to enjoy fresh hour for the hour you all had. He would sit right under the large willow tree at the backyard of the school, finding peace in the dancing of its branches and the shade it provided. But, it was routinely disturbed by Suguru Geto.

"Did you hear?" Suguru's steps lightly crunched the grass as he joined Satoru under the tree. Satoru had his eyes closed with his hands folded on his lap, embracing the final warmth of the summer before autumn truly took over. "Satoru?"

"I heard you," the white-haired wonder murmurs, "hear 'bout what?"

"The new girl that just transferred in," Suguru informs. Satoru didn't care much for rumormongering, but it was nice to have Suguru as a consistent informant on what goes on in their class. "Todays the first day, and she went ahead and challenged the leader of the wrestling team."

That's different. "Is that so," Satoru replies nonchalantly, his eyes still completely shut. "What a strange girl."

"She's quirky, but very beautiful," Suguru adds. "But she must be out of her mind to challenge a guy like that."

Satoru adjusts himself, crossing his arms behind his head. "If that's what she likes," Satoru couldn't care less. Suguru doesn't respond, and the two stay silent for a moment. But the silence was quickly interrupted when a crowd of students came out of the school, cheering and chanting emanating from them. "Hm?"

"I believe they're here for the fight," Suguru assumes. He scratches the back of his head, his forearm throwing his long, black hair to the side. "I'm guessing they're gonna wrestle in the sand pit there."

Satoru allowed one eye open to see the commotion. A crowd surfed through the backyard, with two students leading the pack. The first was a particularly muscly student, which could be safely assumed is the wrestling leader. But the next student beside him was you.

Suguru wasn't lying when he said you were quirky. No girl in their right mind would want to wrestle a guy with that stature. But he definitely wasn't lying when he said you were beautiful, too. The uniform hugged your body a little too well, but it was truly your face that caused Satoru to open both of his eyes.

Your expression was fierce with a shit-eating smile that Satoru couldn't help but become entranced with.

You radiated a sort of confidence that Satoru's never seen before. It could be due in part of the fact that Satoru wasn't a very social person. Despite being popular among your classmates, Suguru was the only friend he cared to have around.

The two friends watched, with Satoru being surprised at how eager he suddenly was. He leaned forward, his eyes glued at the sand pit where you and the boy stood, preparing for your tussle.

With another student as a mediator/referee, you listened closely to the rules and nodded. You smirked at your challenger, your heart practically tightening in excitement. "A clean fight, okay?" The referee repeats. "We don't want a teacher coming out and suspend us all."

Everyone laughed at the joke. "Lets get on with it, yeah?" Your opponent spewed. He was not amused one bit, considering his serious expression. "I don't like hurting girls."

You waive his concern, "don't worry, you won't."

He locked eyes with you, a glimmer of skepticism in his own. The referee stood between the two of you in the pit, his hand in the air to begin his count down. "3...2...1... Fight!" He shot his hand down and quickly escaped the sand pit.

The whole fight was a blur, but Satoru's jaw was on the floor when he witnessed the leader of the wrestling team on the ground, struggling to escape under your body. You had a toothy grin, your uniform completely scuffed with sand scratches ornate on your arms and legs.

Since that day, Satoru wanted to be known by you. You remember the boy coming up to you, his cheeks peachy and hands clammy when he introduced himself to you. Unlike all the other boys who found you intimidating, Satoru found you alluring. So, you pulled him into your own world.

"y/n, are you fucking insane?" Satoru's voice was shaky, nervous, all while still stable. The two of you stood on top of one of the biggest buildings in Japan. You have a knack for trespassing, and Satoru reluctantly followed your every move. Up until now, of course.

"Just a bit!" You glowed. You climbed up the abandoned crane on top of the building, your rough hands finding path in the bars and random equivalents of grips. "What's wrong, Satoru? You scarwed?" You teased with a baby voice.

You could see a teenage Satoru try to keep his cool, but quietly huffing and puffing when he thought you weren't looking. "it's dangerous, y/n," Satoru sounded distant behind you, his face going pale from how high you were at this point.

"It is dangerous, that's right," you yell back, your hands now gray from the accumulated dirt and dust. "But you'll never find excitement like this anywhere."

"Excitement or intense fear?" Satoru replied, his voice becoming a little louder. "I don't want anything to happen to you, y/n! Seriously!"

"Then come up here and guarantee it!" You muse. You make it to a comfortable spot to sit, turning around to look down at him. You felt the adrenaline bring you to the high you were seeking. You hands were rough and dirty, but your body felt strong and your heart was eager. You look down at the dashing boy below, "come keep me safe!"

"y/n, are you serious?" Satoru yells in dread. You nod aggressively with a wide smile. The tall boy stands there, his eyes distant with thought. You were humored from his trivial expression, his uncertainty fighting with his desire to live like you.

But you watched the nervous boy begin his trek towards you, his eyes never daring leaving the sky. You bounced joyously at his newfound bravery, causing him to emit nervous chuckles. Veins protrude his inner forearms, his breathing heavy from the effort and caution of his body. Once he was close enough, you happily offer your hand. His blue orbs held reticence, but your smile reassured him. His clammy hand meets yours, as you pull him up to the space beside you.

He creates a strong grip onto the crane, his fingers digging into the rusted metal. "are you happy?" Satoru murmurs.

"Aren't you?" You gush, nudging his shoulder gently. "Look over there." You point over at the city, and the clouds ornate between the buildings. The sun was setting, so the shadows of the skyscrapers were defined.

With a nervous gulp, Satoru looked down at the city, his bottom lip hung in awe. You watched as his nerves fade, and his hidden adrenaline finally coming forward. There was a shine in his eyes, and the way his white wisps of hair danced in the wind. A small smile pulled at the edges of his lips, and you swore to never forget the day that Satoru Gojo started his life.

Anyone with eyes could tell you that the two of you were meant to be together. A friendship transcending high school, the two of you were practically inseparable. Satoru would go find you during your work lunches, always swearing that he always gets a BOGO when in reality, he would buy you a separate lunch, opposite of the things he prefers to eat.

He was your adventure buddy, always down to follow your lead. Hiking the craziest mountains, parkouring on rooftops that you two were not meant to be at. He always had your back during paintball battles, your body rough but never shot out due to his diligent protection.

But the both of you were blind to one another's affection. The way Satoru grabs your hand whenever you two entered large crowds so he'd never lose you. The way you would fix Satoru's hair after every adventure, taking out the knots that has accrued, despite his grunts and groans. There are moments were he would just rub your hands, feeling the callouses collected since your younger years.

And you watched him grow, his confidence uncontainable. The quiet boy from high school was now a man full of vigor and ambition. Satoru has taken to exercise, his body beyond prepared for your adventures together. You couldn't help but stare at his muscles, the way his calves pulsated whenever he was reaching something high in the cabinets of your kitchen. Or the way his biceps flexed when carrying your groceries for you to the car. You could stare at him forever if you could.

Of course, until the day you couldn't stand to look at him.

"You can't be serious," you spat quietly. "When has there ever been a time where I've asked someone else before you?"

"Don't start," Satoru hums, "I asked her because someone said they'd be going on a work trip that weekend." He was sat on your couch, book in hand as you were fixing up the kitchen a bit.

You hung your head forward slightly, "and? You could still ask, 'Toru."

"If I asked you, you'd refuse to go on your work trip and just come with me to this skiing trip." This would be the very first time that Satoru goes on a fun trip like this without you. And he knows better than to ask anyone else.

"I'm an adult Satoru, I can make my own decisions," you hiss, "but instead, you've taken it upon yourself to decide for me." You begin to angrily organize your kitchen counter.

"Because I know how you are, y/n," Satoru begins, his soft tone begin to ramp up. "You'll want to go regardless of your work obligations. I'm sorry, but I can't let you be so careless."

"So why go without me anyways?" You ask, a bit of hurt in your words. "We go on these trips together, always. Why can't we then just coordinate this trip another time?"

Satoru closed his book and looked over at you, "the northern lights can be seen from Mt. Fuji this year. As much as I'd love to see them with you, you need to be more responsible and work. In turn, I don't want to miss this chance because you don't want me to go without you. It's a bit selfish, no?"

"Selfish?" The word left your tongue in distaste. "Me? You wouldn't have even wanted to do this if it weren't for me!"

"Quite bold of you for taking all the credit," Satoru lashes, his sunglasses sliding down to the tip of his nose. "I was eventually going to break from my shell-- you just kickstarted it early."

You eyes widen, narrowing down in appall from Satoru's words. The man that you watched grow up, that you helped grow up, was reducing your influence to a 'kickstart.' All of the solace that emanated from Satoru Gojo began to evaporate. "Leave," you muttered painfully.

This caught his attention, and Satoru took off his glasses. Blue eyes analyze your hurt expression, his eyes uncertain and almost... in disbelief? "y/n, you're being so dramatic. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

"To you, sure," you look away from him. You could feel your cheeks warm from the coming of tears. "Just leave, Satoru."

Satoru didn't hesitate, and rose from your couch, "you're being serious?" You don't look his way at all. Rolling his eyes, Satoru begins to grab his book and phone. "Whatever. So sorry for trying to be a good friend."

"Fuck off, Satoru," you spat.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fucking off," Satoru doesn't even hug you goodbye before he slams the door behind him. Neither of you realize it then, but that would be the last time you two saw each other, and exchanged words. Both of your prides did enough damage to eviscerate a friendship that you have loved for a long time. You cried that whole night, and the many weeks that followed.

"Shoko, is my dress okay?" You shyly pull down at the incredibly short red-dress you decided to model. Although it hugged you kindly (a little too much), it stopped just right under your ass. "I feel like if I bend over, I'll show everyone Earth's second moon."

Shoko, in a navy blue tube dress, chuckles between her cigarette pulls, "you look extremely sexy, if that's what you're asking."

"It isn't too much for this reunion?" You ignored her compliment.

Shoko shakes her head, "it's perfect."

Unknowingly to you, Satoru was already inside. His toned body was enhanced by a skin-tight, black turtleneck and black dress pants. His hair grew just a bit, tying it up in a ponytail as it would only make his tangling situation worse. He had red shades on, and a smile that could light up the universe. With a martini in hand, he was sharing laughs with all of your classmates from ages ago.

As he goes to take another swig of his drink, he almost chokes from the sight of you entering the school gym.

You entered in, no hint of shyness anywhere, despite your skimpy outfit. Many of your classmates were in awe, as the whole gym turned their attention to you. With infectious energy, you rush over with open arms to see the people you used to study with. His eyes drowned at the sight of you, your bubbly cheeks, your warm embraces to everyone who met your gaze. Even your laugh came back to his head, repeating itself like a metronome.

Satoru downs his drink, and makes his way towards you. Alcohol, combined with adrenaline, made Satoru move faster than he ever has. So swiftly, you even felt the breeze before his presence was known to you. Your eyes widen at the tall man with the white, wispy hair. His shadow, along with his gaze, swallows you whole.

You two could only stare at one another, having been a year since you've shared the same space. His hair, you thought. He was a little taller, his jaw slightly sharper. He smelled of cinnamon and hinoki wood. But his eyes... they didn't look quite like you remembered. They were dark and hollow. They appeared, in a word, empty.

Before you could begin the conversation, Satoru pulls you into his arms. A calmness washes over you, your tense body letting go. He held you just a bit tight, feeling as though your soul could fuse with his at any moment. He's so warm, you swooned in thought. Leaning down to your ear, he pulls a strand of your hair back and whispers, "can we talk somewhere?"

You silently nod, allowing for Satoru to hold you by your hand and guide you from the gym. You knew all eyes were on the both of you, considering that you two hadn't spoken for a year since your fall out. You didn't know what to expect, but you followed him obediently into one of the classrooms, a little far from the gym. He ushers you in, turning on the lights before pulling down the blinds of the classroom door window. The official windows of the classrooms were already shut, leaving the both of you completely isolated.

You slowly walk over to your old desk, remembering it was yours from the distinct, scratched in lily that was clearly never fixed. You turn around and take a seat on top of the desk, looking up and waiting for Satoru. But Satoru could only stare at you from a distance, unable to accept that you were here in front of him.

"Um," your voice sounds quietly, "long time no see, Sato--" before you could even finish, Satoru aggressively pushes the desks you carefully walked around and found his way to you. He grabs your cheeks in his large, rough hands and brings your face to his own. Lips collided, your nails digging frantically into the under of your desk. "mm--!"

An eager tongue slides between your lips, the taste of dry alcohol and lime intoxicating your own. He kissed you feverishly, his lips delicately chapped in the center. He closed the gap between the two of you, his toned abs pressing against your breasts. You then abandon the desk, ands latching themselves to the back of his shirt.

"'toru,--" you try between kisses and breaths, but Satoru was hungry. The way his tongue lapped around yours, the gentle pulls of your bottom lip between his teeth. Your hands snake to his firm chest, gently pushing him away without seeming disinterested. You look at him, trying to read his expression.

He was panting, but for the first time in your life, he was blushing. The empty eyes that briefly scared you were now lit up, just the way you remembered. His lips shined with your saliva, slightly agape to catch increments of air. "y/n," Satoru whispers.

"Satoru," you say with a firmer tone. You bring a hand up, fingers lightly rubbing your recently conquered lips. But his eyes wouldn't leave your gaze, causing your heart to lead a stampede. You realized you weren't ready to talk just yet. You pulled his shirt and brought him back to you, his face following suit, with lips rejoicing.

Satoru's hand curiously dragged its fingertips down your dress, finding its way to your thigh. He pauses, eyes opening to meet yours. Silent consent. You give yourself a few moments before nodding, allowing him to continue.

Butterflies delightfully tormented your stomach, as long, lanky fingers separate your thighs. They were cold, but your skin warmed them up as he found his way to your flower. You could feel his moans against your lips, his fingers curiously making its way between your homely folds. You perk up when your precum primes his fingers towards your cunt. They delicately filled you, three fingers finding solace in your warm, wet walls.

His lips leave yours, allowing for your moans and curses to escape. "ah--ah, s-satoru...!" His eyes widen at your sensual sounds. His breath hitched at the sound of his name from your mouth, your voice. This fueled Satoru, as he begins to finger fuck you more aggressively. The sound of your cum pierced the room as his fingers filled you up, and pulled out every other second. Your hands grip desperately at the hem of his shirt while you buried your face between his pecs.

"say my name again," Satoru demands in a whisper. "i've missed your voice so much, y/n. please, please keep saying it."

You blush, your eyes focused on the ever-growing bulge in his hands. It was just inches away from you, your mouth salivating at the thought of him. "s-satoru, satoru, f-fuck...!" He curled his fingers inside you, teasing your g-spot while also keeping the quick, steady pace of fucking your cunt. Your ears were heating up, your hands tightening their grip. "i'm... i'm...!" you could barely get your words out.

But Satoru knew exactly what you meant, a sinister smile playing at his lips. "perfect," he murmurs, completely removing his hand from your spot. You let out a disappointing sigh, but it is quickly waived when he suddenly holds your thighs, pulls your forward, and has your back on the desk. You look down, only for your head to writhe back in pleasure.

Pulling your panties down to your ankles, Satoru's lips introduce themselves to your pussy, his tongue lapping your folds. You could feel him dragging his tongue up to your clit, the tip circling around the sensitive bud. Your body writhes, with your hands desperately clinging onto his white wisps. His relentless sucking, hot breaths, and sporadic tongue work your pussy into an orgasm, your entire body tense and twitching.

Heavy breathes decorate the room, as Satoru takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. Your cheeks were a plum hue, but Satoru's face was completely beet red. You could feel his gaze on you as you got on your feet (weakly) and fix yourself up. He quickly gets on his knees, and pulls up your panties for you.

"Thank you very much," you quietly croak between breaths. But you noticed him not rising, with his head hung low. "Satoru? You can stand up no--"

"Y/N, I was wrong." His sharp admittance made you bite your tongue. You look down at him, unsure what to do. "I should have asked you first if you wanted to come with me. I should have never decided for you."

"Ah, Satoru, please--"

"No, I was wrong, and I regret it so, so much," his voice was shaky. "You didn't just kickstart it-- you were the reason that I needed to come out of my shell. And really, you were the reason why coming out of my shell was worth it."

You bring your hand down to his head, which makes him lower his head a bit more. "Satoru, take it easy, please..."

"I didn't enjoy myself at all-- I couldn't!" He exclaimed. "You bring me to life, and I didn't realize it until I saw those lights and didn't feel what I thought I would feel. The feeling I expected, I now realize, was because it was you I wanted to share that experience with."

You smile down at him, giggling to yourself a bit. "We were both wrong," you cooed. "Now please stand up. I don't want this to become a crying fest after you just ate me out."

Satoru looks up at you with watery eyes and a sheepish smile. His lips were still shining from your cum, and you couldn't help but get redder. As he got up and dusted his knees, he looked over at you with a smirk, "aren't you going to explain why you were also wrong?"

You looked up pensively before shaking your head, "nope!"

"Of course not," Satoru chuckles, his hands snaking around your waist, "now come here."

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 08

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

Tw: dead animal and copious amounts of blood

…

“Welcome to The Umbrella Academy, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero, get up.”

“Go to your room Number Zero.”

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero! Come here.”

“Stop crying Number Zero.”

“You aren’t a baby Number Zero.”

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

Phrases I've heard Reginald say time and time again. I hated that girl Number Zero, whoever she was.

My name is Y/n L/n, and Reginald Hargreeves knew that. But I hated him too because he made me like this. A freak of nature and it was clear he hated me too.

Not once would you ever hear praise and the words ‘Number Zero’ in the same sentence.

So I never understood why he adopted me if he couldn’t stand the sight of me. But deep down I knew why, it was the same reason why he adopted all of us children he needed our powers not us.

He would make me do whatever he wanted without concern or consequence. And nobody would dare tell him no, cause he did the same thing to everyone else around him.

I slept on the cold table for what felt like years, as my mind drifted to days I'd like to forget.

..

17 YEARS AGO

I stood alone in the middle of an unfamiliar room anxious for what was to come. There was no furniture or even windows except for a small wooden desk, and the only glow in said room came from the desk lamp.

Today was my first day of training, Reginald explained to me. And I was a scared twelve-year-old who’d just arrived at the Academy.

He stood in front of me, stopwatch in his bony hand. But he wasn't the only person in the room. There was another man I did not know, and all I can remember about him was how tall he was.

“Begin.”

My stance was shaky as a withering tree when Reginald uttered those words. I didn't know what to do, I just kept standing there. But the man didn't.

He inched closer and closer so I moved back, extremely terrified when it clicked in my head what the man was about to do.

“Do it.”

The man’s steps wavered, but he followed instructions. He raised the gun in his right hand and he shot me.

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun made the room shake and my screaming body instantly hit the cold wooden floor.

Then I heard the stopwatch start.

The bullet hit me directly in the heart. The man must've been some type of trained killer because of the way he would hit me with great accuracy each time. As expected I was still conscious but too scared to move, so I sat there paralyzed and cried. I cried because It hurt. I cried for my mother. I cried because that was all I could do.

Nobody in the room moved; they were waiting for the thing to happen.

And they didn't have to wait that long. At first, it felt like gears were turning in my head. But from the perspective of Reginald the somewhat dark room was illuminated by the swirls of bright light coming from my chest. Then I could move my feet and fingers and I could blink.

I sat upwards from my uncomfortable position as the bullet that had just been in me popped back out. And the spilled blood surrounding my body reversed back into my chest as well as my old bullet wound was completely healed.

I was as good as new.

“Again.”

..

“Number Zero, get up.”

Every day felt like a constant battle. I was beaten, mangled and killed every single day in new sick ways that he came up with.

“We have a lot to work on, Number Zero. You have missed years of training already. You cannot play anymore.”

I went to bed everyday yearning for it to be over but I kept coming back each day for more. I learned to fight from getting my ass kicked. He tested my durability and timed me, by telling me to break my bones and rip off body parts, just to see how long it would take for them to heal.

“You need to be better, Number Zero.”

“I'm trying!” I screamed but it fell on deaf ears. I'd never fought anyone before, he expected everything to be engraved in my head by day five. And when it wasn't he started taking things away.

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

..

I was angry. I threw tantrums, destroyed my room and hurt myself. Which never mattered to him.

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

By thirteen I did what I had to but I tuned the world out. My thought process was whatever happened to me just happens and I'll always be okay.

He turned me into a shell of my past self. Who could kill whoever he needed and get back up whenever pushed down. And I don’t think anybody knew the extent my private lessons were going and I wasn't going to tell them either way.

..

“Number Zero! Come here.”

It wasn't only myself I had to heal, he tried to have me heal others too.

I'd found myself again in the same room where I was first trained. This time accompanied by a dog, I don’t remember what breed he was but he was cute and fluffy and I wished I could keep him.

The same man from before with the same gun stood against the wall.

“Begin.”

The dog was let off his leash and ran towards me. He licked my face, he wanted to play, he was a nice dog.

My happiness didn't last for long, because the man got off the wall and headed towards us. I hugged the small dog hoping that if I held him hard enough he wouldn't do what he was assigned. But that man always followed instructions.

“Do it.”

The fluffy dog was taken out of my arms. He barked in protest and tried to run back over to me but he never made it. He was shot right in his stomach. I burst into tears, trying to run out of the room.

“Stop crying Number Zero. You aren’t a baby.”

Reginald grabbed me and made me face the dying dog. He threw me towards him yelling a command.

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

I tried, I honestly did, but I couldn’t do it. No one told me how he just expected me to know how to heal the dog. I've only healed my mother and I wasn't even sure how I did that.

My hands were covered in the dog's blood as I sobbed. I thought if I just thought about it hard it would happen, and yes my hands did flicker but the dog still laid there dead.

“I can’t,” I whispered

I wanted to save that dog. I looked up at the disappointed Reginald, not knowing what to do.

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

The dog's life force was officially gone. He was the first thing I let die.

I screamed and kicked trying to get my hands back on the dog but I was dragged out of the room.

“Mission one failed,” Reginald said out loud while writing in his book.

..

PRESENT DAY

“Miss Y/n, are you listening?” The ape snapped his fingers in front of my dazed face. I was still on the table in the operations room, and judging by Pogo’s restlessness I'd been here for a while.

I gasped while grabbing onto my head, which still felt partially bashed in. “How long have I been here for?” I asked him.

Pogo’s hairy hands went into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a tiny pocket watch. “Well, Master Diego dropped you off here around Nine pm yesterday and now it’s about a quarter till Nine am. Almost Ten hours Miss Y/n.”

“Ten hours and my head hasn’t healed yet?” My clasped hands moved from my head to my hair as I tugged and worried. “What’s going on with me, a—are my powers not working??” I started to hyperventilate. Without these powers, I'm sure that I’ll succumb to my injuries and die.

The ape shook his head. “Your powers are working just fine, don’t worry my dear. I've been here ever since Master Diego found me and told me of the situation. Your head is healing, yes, but very slowly.”

I didn’t want this to be the end, there was still so much I could do, but then again I've never actually put any thought into how it would go.

Being bludgeoned by a man with a kid’s mask on is not how I'm leaving this world.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves just as Vanya taught me a while back. Oh shit. “Where’s Vanya?”

Pogo looks away from me. “After the attack on the academy yesterday, your other siblings minus Master Luther deemed it was too risky for her to stay. Because she cannot protect herself like the rest of you..”

“They kicked her out?” I begrudgingly stood up from my seat. “Why do they always do that? I saved her. It's okay now, and she would’ve never gotten hurt if she wasn't looking for me.”

“Miss Y/n please, I don't advise you to leave you aren’t healed. Please sit back down, you can find her later.” He was right, even just standing up took the wind out of me.

Maybe my age was finally catching up with me and this is how my life will continue. I took a seat back down as I finally registered what I was wearing by looking down, I no longer had my jacket. Just jeans and my black shirt.

“Oh! I think Master Diego hung up your jacket back in your bedroom.” Pogo said, sensing my confusion. “It’s a miracle that thing had no blood on it or tears, I know how much that jacket means to you.”

“That’s very nice of him? I didn't know he had it in him.”

“Of course my dear, everyone worries for you. You always took beating after beating with no repercussions. It always amazed me. That being said, you need to be careful.” He explains.

I scratch at my freezing skin. “What?”

“Because you need to take it easy, yes you are formidable but that doesn’t mean you can go around just injuring yourself.” The monkey's accent enunciated every word.

I laugh. “Reginald used to think so.” Pogo stops mid-thought at the mention of him. He looks at me with sorrow in his big eyes. “Never mind that.” He says boldly.

“You took lots of hits yesterday even before getting your head caved in. Other areas of your body heal faster but the brain is such a febrile thing. You need your brain to be able to connect with your powers, being shot once is one thing. But being hit with such intenseness, you're glad your brain was still able to do it. Other times in the future you won't be as lucky, my girl.”

Thank God I stayed awake. No literally thank God, whatever grass field I woke up in felt like death.

“Stay here for maybe five more hours and it should be healed.”

My tense body shivers as I speak up. “Pogo I can’t wait that long, who knows what I missed I need to get back out there.”

“No, I’m prescribing you to stay here and heal your injury.” The short man said.

“Vanya has been kicked out, people just attacked our house, I haven’t seen Klaus and Five forever and who knows what the idiot patrol is going to do next!” I ramble while on my fingers everything that's been going on recently.

He looks up at my disgruntled figure.

“Pogo, please.”

He sighs. “There is a slight alternative, however, it's never been tested and is probably quite painful.” Pogo turns from me to rummage in a few shelves.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I'm afraid you're not going to be happy when you figure out what it is, Miss Y/n.” He yelled from the other side of the room. “I'm sure I've heard worse, Pogo.”

The man returns with an old wooden box covered in small detailed vines. “Your father was always worried that any moment could be your last. For example, If you were too weak to activate your powers or didn’t on purpose.”

“Once you were around fourteen, he started to work on your blood by gathering samples. He did things to alter the samples to create the perfect healing serum or just a boost for your powers.”

I told Pogo I'd be ready for any news but this had been terrifying. “When did he have time to even do that?”

“All of your checkups here in the operations room.” Pogo tilts his head down. “That’s when he would take samples.”

“That is so fucked.” I yell. “How could I have never suspected something was happening when I would be in here almost every day?”

“None of this is your fault, your father just wanted to make sure you're safe. Even if his measures were a bit forward.”

I shake my head at him. “Pogo, this wasn't out of love at all, don't you realize he only did this because he needed me for his purpose? So that I couldn’t get free of this. He only needed me alive for my powers, not because he cared.”

“I assure you your father meant well, somewhere in his heart. But now is the time to use it to speed up the process of your head healing.” Pogo lifts open the top of the box revealing a velvet inside. And rows and rows of tiny indents in the velvet that held little vials of liquid. This liquid looked exactly like my powers, even though it was made out of my normal-colored blood.

It makes me shudder thinking about what he did to it, and me. But I know I had to get it done if I wanted to get out of here. “Okay, so we just inject it into my arm? And I walk out of here after?”

“Not exactly..” says Pogo. “We don't know what could happen, it’s never been tested on anyone. But my best guess is to inject it right into the injury so it will spread there.”

“You mean you're going to stick a needle into my head?” I look at him in horror.

“Why yes, unless you want to take my instructions to wait here for five hours.”

“Grab the needle.”

..

After a bunch of hesitance and worrying Pogo had me lay down on the table fully. He walked up to my indented head with the syringe and without warning stuck it in my head. “Pogo!” I cry out.

The ape didn't respond, instead, he put the box back on the shelf where he got it. “How do you feel?” He asked.

At this point I didn't feel anything different from the splitting headache my broken head was giving me. “I feel the same-“

Then it started to hit me. It felt like a mix of adrenaline and crack all at once.

My powers shined around my head, the healing felt like it was moving faster than I could compute it. It made my body feel like it was on fire, and I signaled that to the ape by screaming out in pain. But it didn't last long because like I said, my powers were moving fast. I blinked and my head felt as good as new.

Pogo stared at me in shock at the display he just watched. “It’s a miracle!” He grins. “How did it feel?”

My eyes darted across the room trying to put into words, outside of my head, how the sensation felt.

“Well I wouldn't recommend it, but it got the job done. Hopefully, I never have to take that again. But thank you Pogo” I reply standing up while my wobbly legs try to position themselves correctly.

“I need to do something that's going to contribute. Either find Five or Vanya or talk to everyone else.” I mutter under my breath.

He stuttered wanting to say more and try to convince me any way he could but my path to the door was clear.

“Thanks again, Pogo!” I shouted over my shoulder. I wasn't even sure how the rest of the mansion would look after the attack, I just wished everyone was okay.

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ 1000 Years Too Late

❥ heian!era sukuna x fem!reader

warnings: TRIGGERING & HEAVY spoils for the recent jjk chapter, if you don’t wanna be spoiled nor triggered, please don’t read.!

❥ trigger warnings & tags: mentions of death, suicidal thoughts & attempt, struggles with grief, reincarnation of sukuna’s deceased lover, unwanted pregnancy, depression, (sukuna inhabited a different body when he was with you) etc...

note: punishment for all my hunnibuns, since yall didn’t submit for the summer event. also i added a lil twist on the jjk plotline to fit this

it was over. they won, but you lost. lost the one thing that mattered to you.

you knew this was going to happen, but nobody can prepare you for death. how could they? especially for this one. they would judge you and shun you away from the academy, if they knew how you felt.

you watched as they rejoiced, reuniting and celebrating the end of sukuna, while you stood there sulking—trying so hard not to wallow in your sorrows.

he was the love of your life and now he is gone.

you stood at the spot where he died, trying so hard to feel his spirit or his energy, but there was nothing. he was truly gone. the two of you had fallen in love by accident, you couldn’t remember how it began, but you could remember how much the two of you loved each other. despite you both being on opposite sides, you couldn’t hate each other.

it was unfortunate how the world turned out for the two of you.

you entered your apartment and you immediately tensed up—immediately being hit with the cologne he used to wear. should you even be here? everything reminded you of him, the last plate in the sink that he used, the smell of the aftershave he used this morning, his crimson red slippers by the bed and his side of the bed that had grew cold.

you were alone, left alone once again. you lied down on his side of the bed, cuddling under the plush blanket, staring up at the ceiling—darkness clouding the room. ‘why’d you have to leave me? how am I supposed to move on?’ a tear trickled out of your eyes and then the flood gates opened.

you spent the whole night crying your eyes out, heart yearning for him once again.

the following days had gotten worse for you, you felt like you were decaying—mentally. you hadn’t left your place, ignoring the calls from your coworkers and your parents, you hadn’t showered, you had no motivation to nor have you eaten anything. his death took everything out of you, all you could do was drink. drink the pain away.

you sat in your bed tossing back the bottle of jack daniels that was sitting inside one of the kitchen’s cabinets. you had been drinking so much that the burn that accompanied the liquor had faded and it started to taste like juice. the vibrating sounds of your phone made you tense up, irritating you by the second while you ignored it; making you pick up—ready to drunkenly curse out the person on the other side.

that is until you heard their voice, the voice of your boyfriend's killer, the only one who knew of your relationship with the king of curses. yuuji itadori.

“hello? y/n–sensei?” you cringed, swallowing back your anger as you answered him back.

“hello yuuji, what’s up?” there was a pause on the other end and you took the opportunity to take another swig of the dark beverage.

“we haven’t seen you in a while….i just wanted to see how you were doing….” you had to stop yourself from chuckling, swallowing more and more of the bronze drink.

“im fine. is that all?” your words came out harsher than you intended, but that would’ve been a problem if you were in the right state of mind. “i'm not buying that. im coming to check on you, sensei. I’ll be there soon.” he said, hanging up on you—making you curse in frustration. you threw the bottle at the nearby wall, the glass shattering into a thousand tiny pieces and staining it with its contents.

you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him, he was a kid after all—being pulled into this mess, having to deal with everything as well. but, you didn’t know what else to do? who else to blame?

you got up from your bed, sulking on the way to the bathroom; stripping off your clothes and stepping to into the shower—turning on the water to boiling hot; the water burning away your thoughts. this was the only time you hadn’t thought about sukuna, the shower freed your mind. all you could think about was the pleasing feeling of the scalding water piercing your thoughts.

after a good ten minutes in the shower, you got out and put on something comfortable, waiting for the teen to come to your place. and a few more minutes, he was there, staring at you—like he could see right through you. “you miss him, don’t you?” the pink haired boy spoke, not wasting anytime. you looked at him and chuckled, before going into your favorite cabinet; the liquor cabinet. opening the strong bottle of vodka, you quick downed some; ignoring yuuji.

“before i killed him—,” he paused, seeing the look on your face after he said that before continued, ignoring your eyes. “he told me to go to this place, must’ve been his castle years ago, and told me to find this crate with your name on it.” he went out into the hallway and grabbed the crate, bringing it in to show you. it was filled with a bunch of letters, all signed to you.

“i never read any of them, y/n–sensei, i figured it was something special for you. help you get closure.”

“closure?” you stifled a laugh, raising any eyebrow at the boy. you burped, picking up the bottle of alcohol and shoving some more of its liquid down your throat. he could see that you were drunk, but you were also hurting.

“how the hell would you know what i need? hm?”

“because it’s not good to carry everything on your shoulders. trust me i know.” he put his hand onto of yours, eyes holding sincerity, but you couldn’t see that; heart wouldnt let you. you pulled away from him and stood a few feet back—face contorted into a scowl. “you should go.” yuuji opened his mouth to protest, but he knew shouldn’t. instead, he turned on his heels and head for the door, before saying one last thing.

“sensei, if you ever need help, im one call away.”

you avoided those letters like the plague. walking past them each time you went to retrieve a new bottle of your liquid medicine. you didn’t have the strength to, you feared that it might push you over the edge.

sukuna was on your mind heavily as you sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television—with a bottle in the other hand. you decided on a channel, a romantic movie playing on the big screen. you laughed in disgust at the main character, so helplessly in love—stupidly in love. you cringed when the character experienced her first heart break, rolling your tired eyes at her dramatics, that is until she received a letter. a letter from her lover.

it was like you were watching a movie about yourself. like someone was controlling you life in a way. you looked at the letter’s sitting on the island before looking back at the tv, before you got up and went over to the crate. You swallowed thickly and rummaged through them, pulling out one that had caught your eye. you ran your hand over the black ink, his handwriting thick and neat, envelope smelling just like him.

carefully tearing it open, you stared at the contents, finding a seat at the island.

‘ a thousand years ago, i ruled the world. i was nefarious, everyone bowed down to me—they respected me. i was king and then there was you, my queen. ’ you paused, taking a minute to process what the hell he was talking about. you took another swig from your personal mini bar before looking at the letter once more.

‘ i know you’re confused, i can see your face scrunching up in my mind. cute. ’ you giggled, heart swelling at you imagining him, imagining you.

‘ you were born a thousand years ago. you were everything i was not. you completed me, even though you were just a human, you made me feel more than just a curse. you made me, me. ’ your lips were trembling and you had to bite them to stop yourself from crying. he always had a way with words.

‘ you were fearsome, a little cruel at times (my kind of lady), but you were respected. however, some people didn’t feel the same and they had it out for you. you were cursed, one that would ultimately end up taking your life. after a passionate night of love making between you and i, we shared a kiss and that was the last one we ever shared. you died in my arms that night ’

plip. plip. plip.

your tears stained the letter, heart breaking into a thousand pieces. you knew that he was crying as he wrote this letter, words smudged where he was writing—that was rare for him. he was heartbroken just like you were.

' I watched the light go out of your eyes. i had to bury you. i was filled with emotions, one that i know a bit too well. rage. i killed everything and everyone in sight, trying to find a way to get you back…..it took me forever to find one. until, i met you again. the day that I saw you, i knew i had to keep you safe. you were fighting against me and i had to act like i didn’t know you, it was all part of my plan. i fell for you ten times harder and you slowly did as well. however, i found out that the curse reincarnated with you and how to break it. ’

you sipped the last of the burning booze, wiping your eyes that continuously watered with sadness. you pinched the letter, no longer wanting to read the rest of the letter, but you knew you had to. you had to know why, why the love of your life had to die.

‘ i found out the way to break it about a week ago and by the time you’re reading this, im probably already gone. the only way to break this curse was for me to die and i didn’t, you would die and be reincarnated over and over again if you continued to fall in love me. i couldn’t do it, I couldn’t see you die another thousand years later. i couldn’t lose you. so im doing what i gotta do. im sorry. ’

oh. the paper got wet.

the black ink smudged with your rainfall of tears. you couldn’t stop, your heart aching, breaking into a thousand pieces. why did the universe hate you? what did you ever do to deserve this? why did you have to live?

the bottle of bacardi fell to the floor, as you stumbled getting up—vision blurred with your sadness. you stepped on the clear shards, pricking your feet as you walked, not caring about the stinging sensation coursing through them. you staggered towards the bathroom, gripping the sink’s cool porcelain, & opening the medicine cabinet that lied behind the mirror. you picked up a random pill bottle, whipping the cap off and pouring a small handful into your mouth.

swallowing it with the help of the water from the sink’s faucet, you slid down to the tiled floor—sitting there until the drugs took full affect.

your eyes were getting weaker and weaker by the second, heart beating crazily in your chest and all you could do was lay back and smile. you were finally at peace, ready to be reunited with your love. until you felt a buzzing in your pants pocket. you weakly reached in and pulled out your phone, seeing the missed notification from itadori. oh. you smiled and opened the device, going to your text messages and pushing the little microphone icon.

“goodbye, yuuji.”

the effects of the pills consumed your body, putting you in a comatose state—a white light taking over your mind.

the sounds of medical machinery caused you to stir, eyes lids heavy as you tried to open them. the brightness of the lights above you, made you cringe, until you relaxed and was able to open them completely—taking around your surroundings. you were in fact, still alive.

you noticed there was tube inside of you mouth and you started to panic, that is until who hand came over and unplugged it for you, allowing you to gasp for air. “you’re lucky to be alive, y/n. thank yuuji for that.” shoko’s raspy voice rang in your ears and you met her eyes, tears welling in them.

“and did you know that you’re pregnant?” shoko asked and your eyes widened, there was no fucking way. after all that drinking you did, how can something like that survive in you?

almost like she could hear your thoughts, the brown haired woman spoke once more, “there seems to be some cursed energy in there. i don’t want to or need to know how, but i do need to know what do you plan on doing with it?” your mind was running a million miles per minute, a kid? a fucking fetus? you couldn’t, you couldn’t raise it—not now, not ever. not until you got help.

just as you were about to respond, there was a knock on your door and in came the pink haired teen. he smiled and looked at shoko, whom nodded her head and exited the room—leaving you two to have a mini staring contest. until, he decided to speak first, “I’ve got your text last night…I nearly raced over there—scooping you up and bringing you over here, auntie.” the name he called you made you raise an eyebrow.

“i went back to get a few things for you and I found the letter. it’s not your fault, you couldn’t control the past more can you control the future. it’s not his fault either. my uncle did what anyone would do in his situation, he might’ve dragged it a couple of times, but he lost the love of his life.” yuuji said with a little eye roll, causing you to chuckle.

“i know about your situation too…whatever you decide, im here every step of the way. you don’t need to do this on your own. he broke the curse so you could live, so live. “

you took those words to heart as you laid in the hospital bed, recovering. there was no doubt that you missed him and needed ryomen—but you know that dying now would make his death a waste. he died so you wouldn’t have to suffer, he was man; a cursed man yes—but he was the bravest man ever and you would forever love him.

“i got the last bag yuuji! tell fushiguro to help you with that one!” you shouted to the pink haired boy, grabbing the last bag from your empty apartment. you had recovered fully in shoko’s care a few weeks ago, you also signed up for therapy—to help you understand your feelings and better your mental health. you decided on getting rid of the unborn fetus, you were in no shape to carry such a thing. you weren’t strong enough and you knew sukuna would understand.

you sighed, looking around once more, taking in the memories before you moved to your new place. however, just as you were about to go, a white envelope caught your eye. you thought you shredded them all, but it seems that one was forgotten. setting down the bag of clothes, you leaned against the island and quickly opened it—heart thumping in anticipation.

‘ my love for you will never die. don’t fret my queen, ive might’ve been a thousand years too late, but i will forever love you a thousand years more. until we meet again. — ryomen . ’

you smiled, tears pouring out of your eyes while you kissed the letter, before bringing it over to the stove and lighting it on fire; burning it to a nice crisp.

that was the end of your story, but the beginning of a new one. take care, sukuna. and see you in hell.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Carry my heart (and hold it gently in your arms)

Another Emmrook piece! I just feel like this old man is too smooth, and needed early pre-relationship old man flustering. Ghil can be a poetic flirt, as a treat.

Feat. My Ingellvar Ghil'danan, and the bone daddy himself, Emmrich Volkarin.

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

Strong arms wrapped around him, sliding under his knees and around his shoulders. There was something about the scent that soothed him, kept him from startling even as he blinked awake.

Something floral, like the soap Ghil used.

Dazed, Emmrich looked up, his eyes adjusting to the weak light. White hair turned to pale gold in the candlelight, spilling over a broad chest and draping across Emmrich’s lap.

“Rook?” He asked sleepily, before the full reality of the situation hit him. “R-Rook!” He flailed uselessly, locked firmly in place by Ghil’s embrace.

“Shh. You fell asleep, professor.” The warrior’s low tone was melodic and even as he climbed the stairs.

“You could have just woken me up!” Emmrich protested.

Ghil snorted. “We tried. Dozing off at dinner…should I take you on less missions?”

Emmrich glared, smacking Ghil’s chest. His ears were hot with embarrassment. “I'm not an invalid!” He scolded sharply. “You requested an expert on the Fade, which requires me to-”

A rumbling chuckle cut him off, the vibrating sensation warm and deep against his side. “I know,” Ghil said, almost affectionately. “I'm just teasing.” He paused at the top of the stairs, glancing down at the professor. “Would you like me to set you down now?”

No.

“Yes,” Emmrich lied. How mortifying it was to feel the longing rise up in his chest, a sweet ache he could not deny. “I'm perfectly able to walk to my own quarters. Where is Manfred, anyway?”

Ghil gently set him on his feet, and again the professor was struck with how startingly tall the elf was. Nearly his own height.

“In your room,” Ghil replied. “I asked Manfred if he’d prep your bed for you, just in case you didn't wake.”

Emmrich truly blushed at that. “You would have taken me all the way to my bed?”

The warrior opened his mouth, snapping it shut as if closing off a sudden thought. He coughed shyly. “Of course.” Whatever had run through his mind had caused a bloom of pink across his skin, flustering Ghil nearly as much as Emmrich. “Wherever…” his voice lowered, grew softer and more intimate. “Wherever you need me to carry you, I'll always be more than happy to.”

Something about those words caught Emmrich's attention. The lingering insinuation, perhaps of something…?

No. It couldn't be. Rook couldn't be interested in…

Fidgeting, Emmrich straightened his clothes. “Well,” he said weakly. “I appreciate the offer. And…thank you for carrying me.”

Ghil's lids lowered, heavy and inviting. “Anytime, professor.”

“You know what I prefer to be called,” Emmrich croaked out. If only anyone else was here. If only the low lights didn't lend an intimate, private touch to their conversation, as if they were the only two people in the entirety of the Lighthouse.

If only he were younger, braver.

The warrior stepped closer, reaching out, making Emmrich’s breath catch.

He plucked a long white hair off the professor's shoulder, smiling softly.

“Sorry. It's the worst part about having long hair,” he commented, pulling away.

Emmrich nodded. “Of course. Thank you, dear Rook.”

“Professor. Say my name.” The command was soft, but everything in Emmrich’s mind leapt to obey.

“Ghil’danan,” he whispered hoarsely.

The look he was rewarded with practically turned his insides to jelly, filling him with heat. He was far too old for stomach butterflies, for the yearning of a new infatuation.

And yet.

Ghil took his hand, lifting it up and examining the rings there absentmindedly.

“If the sound of my name on your lips is the last thing I hear, I don't think I'd mind,” he commented casually.

By all that was good, this man was sent to kill him personally. Nevermind Lucanis, the true assassin was right here.

His cheeks flared with heat as Ghil leaned down to kiss his knuckles, that lilac gaze flicking up to pin the professor in place.

“Goodnight…Emmrich,” he murmured, before stepping away.

Emmrich found himself at a loss for words. Those lips had been so soft against his skin, the sensation lingering like veilfire long after Ghil had vanished from sight.

Letting out a shaky breath, Emmrich slumped against the wall.

A snicker caught his attention.

Taash leaned in the hallway to their room, just barely in sight.

“Get it, professor,” they said, smirking before slinking back into their quarters.

Emmrich just covered his face and wished he could sink into the floorboards.

[illubean]

ohemgee hi! I saw ur post asking for requests and wanted to request something that's been flosting around in my head for a while- could i request a PLATONIC gojo satoru x fem!reader and a romantic bestfriend! megumi fushiguro x fem!reader where megumis out on a mission and reader misses him so she's ranting and complaining to gojo about it? Also i was thinking like reader just has a crush on megumi (megumi also likes her back) and reader's yearning over him to gojo and gojo's just like "WE GET IT." If u don't wanna write it with gojo, i don't mind the request with literally any other student in the tokyo jujutsu high! Thank u in advance! (Feel free to ignore this if u dont wanna write it <3)

Missing U

Characters: Megumi Fushiguro Type: Oneshot, Fluff, Fem!Reader

sort of wrote Gojo in here but not really >.< hope u like anyway!

Warnings: none

"Sighh..."

Currently you were sprawled upside down on the common room couch. Yuuji was watching one of his weird films on the TV while Nobara was flipping through some teen magazine. The only first year that was missing was Megumi.

"Siggggghhhhh."

Your two friends continued to ignore you, focusing on whatever had their attention at the moment. You sunk towards the floor, deciding to just let yourself fall and rest there.

"SIIIIGGGGHHH-"

"Girl if you don't SHUT THE FUCK UP I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you," Nobara warned, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance as she gripped her magazine tighter.

"What's up with you anyways?" Yuuji asks, eyes still focused on the TV.

You sat up, resting your arms and head against the couch cushions.

"I miss my man."

Your pink haired friend raised an eyebrow at this, glancing down at your pouting self before Nobara clarified.

"By her man, she means Megumi."

"Since when were you guys together?"

You huffed, leaning further into the couch while you mumbled out your response.

"We're together in my head."

Megumi had been your best friend since you got to Jujutsu Tech. He was the only other first year at the time, and even though he's pretty nonchalant most of the time he wasn't too hard to get close to. Honestly, he lets you get away with a lot of stuff that wouldn't slide had it been anyone else.

But that's just because you guys have known each other the longest, right?

"Why don't you just ask him out then?" Yuuji asked.

Your crush on Megumi was anything but a secret. All of the students knew, Gojo knew, hell, even the students from the Kyoto sister school could tell. Everyone knew but Megumi himself it seems.

"It's not that simple Yuuji!! I want him to make the first move. Besides, I don't even know if he's into me like that. What if he- OW!"

Before you could go on a rant, Nobara chucked her magazine right at your face.

"We get it, you're in love! If you're not going to do anything about it then stop complaining!"

It was silent for a few moments, save for the sound of the TV and rustling of paper while your brunette friend retrieved her magazine.

Several beats of silence.

Until-

"Siigghhhhhh...I miss him..."

With a scowl on her face, Nobara rolled up her magazine and raised it in preparation to hit you. You braced yourself for impact and as if on cue, you heard two sets of footsteps approaching.

"Guess who's back from that totally important mission!" your teacher spoke. You practically shot up from your spot on the floor, before leaning against the back of the couch, trying to act as cool as possible.

"Welcome back. How'd it go?"

"It went great! As a matter of fact, it went so great you should go hang out with your best friend!"

Gojo rests his hands on Megumi' shoulder, positioning the dark haired boy in front of him while Nobara got up from her spot to drag you around the couch and push you towards the door.

"Yeah, for the love of god, take her!"

The brunette shoved you outside, Gojo following suit to do the same to Megumi before giving you a "Have fun!" before slamming the door shut.

It was just now you realized the boy was holding a (favorite color) gift bag, a light shade of pink dusted over his cheeks as he avoided eye contact.

"Here. For you," he said, bringing his arm up to hold the bag out to you.

"Thanks Megs, but what's this for?"

"Just open it."

You opened up the bag and looked inside to see an arrangement of your favorite snacks. Taped on the inside of the bag was a note, that you gently peeled off and read to yourself. In neat handwriting it read

'Will you be my girlfriend?'

[moonstrider9904]

That Old Song

Pairing: Crosshair x Female Reader

Summary: After pining after him for months, you get the chance to see Crosshair one more time before he ships out with his squad to Kaller.

Tags: SFW. Kissy-kiss, pre-relationship, general softness, implied tragic romance

Word count: 1693 words

Read on AO3 | My one-shot masterlist

This one was inspired by That Old Song from the Slime Rancher soundtrack because it gives me tragic romance vibes and even though I always wanna give Crosshair a happy ending, I really felt inspired to explore the more tragic side of canon because we all know what happens to him by this point (and season 3's not even over lol Lord help us)

The sky turned purple as the sun on Anaxes began to set. The warm toned twilight would always bring a sense of foreboding with it, but you were used to it. The hangar on Anaxes was not a front line, but it was still a warzone, and war didn't discriminate. It took away, it destroyed, it forced goodbyes, but like the stars that were rising in the ever-darkening sky, there were always gleams of hope that traced finer, beautiful shapes if you knew how to look for them.

He was such a glimmer, at least to you.

You hadn't stepped a foot inside the base since the Havoc Marauder landed. Though repairs and refueling were insistently handled by the team's own engineer, you had the honor of being the only mechanic around whom Tech would even allow to set a finger on the hull of the modified Omicron-class attack shuttle. While he was off running diagnostics and the rest of the squad loaded up on rations, you were finishing up putting away the supplies you'd needed for a standard oil change. You caught the scent of the oil coming from your gloves, which you carefully removed to reveal your hands, the skin on them soft and surprisingly well taken care of despite your profession. At that moment, you could hear the subtle pacing behind you, and a gentle smile formed on your lips. You'd had so many encounters with them that, while short, had already allowed you to recognize how each of the defective clones walked - you'd gotten the chance to know such a detail from many clone battalions, but you didn't enjoy knowing any of them as much as you did for Clone Force 99.

The steps approaching you were light as a feather resulting in lifelong training for stealth, and long resulting in a tall silhouette. Carefully paced one after the other, you knew he was already smirking at the sight of you. It was simply who he was.

You turned around and your eyes landed on the silver hair and the deep brown eyes that would reflect sunlight so beautifully whenever a golden ray hit them just right - that was the only thing that made you yearn for sunshine in the middle of that twilight. Regardless, you couldn't help but grin at the man approaching you. Being in his presence was everything that occupied your thoughts when he was gone.

"Thought you'd be here," he said while chewing on a toothpick.

The giggle that left you was just a bit too obvious for your taste, but you muscled through it. "Aren't you smart."

"I hope you haven't been here all week," he teased. "I don't tell you when I'll be here in my letters for you to tie yourself to the hangar."

"It might surprise you to know I'm always exactly where I need to be," you smirked, your hands traveling to your hips. "I just happen to be needed here right now."

Crosshair, who was always so stern and so serious, let out a chuckle in front of you. The way others talked about him, even his brothers, you were already sure by then that you were one of the only people he ever did that around, and the low sound of his laughter and the way his chest fluttered when he did made you feel your knees giving out on you. Finally, Crosshair took a couple of calculated steps toward you, decreasing some of the distance between the two of you. He looked down at you, silent for a moment, so peaceful you could hear the wind blowing at your sides. Despite the cool breeze, all you could feel on your skin was heat.

"Have you heard the rumors?" You asked him.

Crosshair nodded, the seriousness returning to his face. "Yeah. War's ending soon."

Sarcasm flooded his previous remark, and you gave him a bittersweet smile. "You don't seem all that happy about it."

"It's not that," Crosshair replied. "I'm not in a position to assert or expect anything."

"Right," your mind went back to your initial pondering on the cruelties of war, but you decided to focus on the man in front of you. "Will you be headed to Coruscant?"

Crosshair shook his head. "We're needed on Kaller."

"Oh," you said. "I see. Kaller... snowy, full of clankers."

"My specialty," Crosshair purred.

You giggled. "So... maybe it's safer to say that I'll see you again soon?"

As you were talking to him, you inched closer to Crosshair. Your hands were down at your sides, but you couldn't help but notice how close his hands were to yours, and how easy it would be to reach out and touch his gloved fingers with your bare ones. What you hadn't realized up until that moment, even with all the letters and the hours you'd spent thinking about Crosshair, was how desperately you needed to hold him, and to be held by him.

But Crosshair sighed, hesitant. "Darling..."

"We haven't been sending each other letters for months now just because," you whispered. "Have we?"

A faint smile appeared on his thin lips. "No."

Your own smile, though soft, grew at him, and your eyes seemed to sparkle.

"Crosshair..." You sighed, the dreaminess finding its way into your voice.

He couldn't help but laugh again. "Well, damn. You really are smitten."

Flustered, you looked away, but Crosshair reached out to gently hold your chin and have you look up at him again. He took in the way you were looking at him, with sparkling eyes and an adorable smile, your cheeks warm and your silhouette glowing with hope, like a girl first entranced by puppy love. Your hand went up to perch itself over his wrist, but as you did, your romantic heart stilled itself when the thought of him leaving soon bled into your mind, forcing the smile to slowly disappear from you.

"What is it?" He asked.

You chuckled bashfully. "I just..."

You feared the effect of your words, you feared that it would put a pressure on him that he didn't need, one that no soldier deserved to be burdened with. But inside you, a flame burned, one that prompted you to simply speak now, to not hold back, to not reduce yourself and your feelings to letters and comms. Crosshair, the man of your dreams, finally stood before you, his hand on your skin. You would never forgive yourself if you wasted this opportunity now that you had it.

Because how in the world could you have known what happened next?

"I just don't want you to leave," you whispered. "I never do."

Crosshair gave a soft exhale as he rolled the toothpick to the opposite corner of his lips and spat it out to the side only to look at you again, his gaze turning gentle on you. His other hand traveled up to your face, and now he cupped your cheeks with a steady, soft grip.

"Would it help if I told you I don't want to leave you here either?" He asked.

You smiled softly. "It's nice to know that."

Your eyes met, and you were overtaken by the desire to collapse in his arms and become one with him. You valued each second you'd been gifted to look at his face; your gaze traced the tattoo over his right eye, memorizing the little textures where the ink seemed to falter - you'd never noticed it wasn't a solid line, it looked like it'd been drawn over the artisanal canvas of his skin. You basked in his warmth as your hands reached out to his waist, and you pulled yourself closer to him, and while you did, part of you wanted to curse and lash out at the fact that you hadn't done this sooner.

But you were there now, and that was enough to calm you. And if the war was ending, you wanted to cling to the hope that you'd be in the arms of your beloved again soon.

"Crosshair?" You asked.

With his gaze, he prompted you to continue.

"I..." you said. "I want to kiss you."

Crosshair didn't wait longer, and he slowly lowered himself to gently press his lips to yours. You felt as if every star in the sky above you would explode at that moment, and your arms slid up around Crosshair's shoulders while his slid around your waist. A kiss that started out softly didn't hesitate to become what you could only describe as romance itself, fully engulfing you both in one wavelength as your lips danced together, timeless in your own right. Softly, you moaned at his taste, and you vowed never to forget the sensation of his lips on yours, warm and intoxicating, like it would give you everything you'd ever need for the rest of your days.

You never wanted it to end, but the time came for Crosshair to set you down again. You hadn't even noticed when you'd started to stand on your toes, but when the soles of your feet were back on the ground, you looked up at him with hope, with love, and with the unspoken desire to scream "don't go" building up and eating you up inside.

With all those feelings in your gaze, looking at you nearly broke Crosshair's heart.

Your hands gently traveled to Crosshair's cheeks and you felt his stubble growing in beneath your fingertips. You gave a light chuckle and added that detail to the many you'd remember from that night, and finally, you smiled brightly at Crosshair.

"Let me know where you end up after Kaller," you said.

Crosshair smiled softly. "You know I will."

You knew it would be time for him to leave soon, so you resolved to be with him in the time you had left. You threw your arms around Crosshair and held him tighter than you'd ever held anyone. You didn't mind the armor under your soft body, all that mattered was you were holding him.

And fervently, during those last few moments, you prayed neither Kaller nor whatever came after it would take him away from you.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[starfallforest]

Stop putting 'Too Sweet' by Hozier in your Sylus playlists

I am sorry—this was clickbait. I don’t actually care what you do with your life. But I need you to hear me out for just a second, okay? I am extremely not neurotypical about two things: Love and Deepspace, and Andrew John Hozier-Byrne. And I have seen more than one person in the tags talk about "Too Sweet" by Hozier being a perfect song for Sylus and MC. My only discourse about this is that Too Sweet is a song about a man who makes continuous self-sabotaging life decisions being incompatible with a partner who has her life put together. In my humble opinion, both Sylus and MC are hot messes of people in completely different ways. Anyway, it’s a good song so I don’t blame you for putting it in every playlist ever. In fact, you should. But if you're into this song, I want to show you a couple more pls pls pls 🙏​

I might just be autistic, but both Hozier's music and Love and Deepspace have something extremely important in common… and that’s BEAUTIFUL MEN YEARNING!!!1 And that’s not even to mention the haunting, raw sexuality we can project onto the stories that each of these things feeds to us. That's why I needed to make this post on the 1% chance that someone might hop on this brainrot train with me. So let me present, for just a moment of your time (if you're willing): other Hozier songs that fit Sylus so well I want to combust about it.

De Selby (Parts 1 & 2):

“At last, when all of the world is asleep You take in the blackness of air The likes of a darkness so deep That God—at the start—couldn't bear.” [azlyrics] [gaelic translation]

Imagine just casually writing THE love song that so beautifully says, “Before you were in my life, I kinda understood how God felt before he created the universe.” Excuse me? Andrew just dropped this stanza on us without so much as a cw: fuck you. And if that sickening portrait of gnawing loneliness isn’t enough, we have all the Genesis God references. Since all the LIs in the game are at some point likened to gods or rivaling gods with their power, then add the reverberating instrumentals and chillingly slow vocals in this 2-minute killer, tell me how this song does not fit Sylus. Not only that, but we also have imagery of his lover descending upon him like the night (which is invoked during Part 1 in the Gaelic verse), and I know that’s on the nose for Sylus but come on. I need you guys writing smut to have an orgasm during De Selby (at least Part 2) because it might change ur brain chemistry I'm just saying.

“When you fall on me like night—I wanna kill the lights.” [azlyrics]

This song still rules irt its playing with darkness symbolism, but it also refers to the darkness in the singer’s lover—which in Sylus’ case is MC and we all were there when she shot the guy in the heart like his freaky eye was telling her: “And your heart, love, has such darkness—I feel it in the corners of the room…” my goddddddd stop right there I can’t handle the METAPHORrrr. You think Sylus gives a flying fuck about MC’s frivolous morality bullshit? No he wants her to embrace her own darkness, sit under the blankies with him and cuddle after doing crimes and a beat poetry session. This is some fucking Hannibal Lecter beyond-dark-romance shit. I’m not even trying to write a dissertation here (and yet…)

Talk (from Wasteland, Baby!):

“I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of, That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marveling at God… Imagine being loved by me.” [azlyrics]

Not only does this song utilize insane Greek mythology metaphor and Biblical comparison but the overall meaning of it is, “I want you so bad, I need to speak poetically to hide how down bad I am for you.” That sounds kinda like Old World Sylus and all his pretty nicknames to me.

NFWMB:

“If I was born as a black thorn tree, I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, Fuel the pyre of your enemies… Ain't it warming you, the world going up in flames?” [azlyrics]

This whole song just some hard, deep and steady yearning for 4 and a half minutes. Are you kidding? The acronym in the title stands for Nothing Fucks With My Baby, which is sung in the chorus like some quietly violent war chant—soft, dark, and powerful. Anyway don’t tell me Mr. Sylus “Give me a list and then go to bed. I’ll take care of it” Loveanddeepspace wouldn’t scorch the earth for the love of his life—or do one better and stand by her side while she scorches the earth herself; here’s the protective/supportive mans anthem you ordered babes.

It Will Come Back:

“I know who I am when I'm alone—I'm something else when I see you. You don't understand, you should never know How easy you are to need.” [azlyrics]

This song has repeated imagery that warns of the dangers of taking care of a feral animal, and then compares the feral animal to the singer as a lover. Like fuck off, that’s sexy and haunted. And we know that not only does Sylus love animals more than people, but he’s pretty animalistic himself if we are to believe that maybe he’s secretly a demon or something.

Arsonist’s Lullaby:

“Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash.” [azlyrics]

Remember in Lost Oasis when MC goes on some tangent wondering what Sylus' past was like? Well it was this song. It's about troubled youth and learning to grow in your darkness. Also how cool is that imagery of demons? Hey Sylus, what do you have to say about demons? I'll wait. In the meantime I'm tattooing this shit on my clavicle

BONUS ROUND Through Me:

“Everytime I’d burn through the world, I’d see that the world—it burns through me.”

We got a man and we got some fire allusions so there ya go.

Blood Upon the Snow:

“To all things housed in her silence, Nature offers a violence.”

Blood upon the snow—it's red and white! Red!! And white!!! Also kind of a Sylus x Zayne anthem lbr

Ok I hope you found another song that inspires you to make Sylus art or fanfic with!! And before you ask, yes I've already assigned Hozier songs to every other love interest in the game. Ok thanks for reading!!! 🏃‍♀️​💨​

[necromancer-at-abattoir]

anon because the fandom does genuinely scare me sometimes, especially within the caleo stan circles

love your posts. what are your thoughts on caleo? i personally greatly dislike it, but how do you feel about it? i think it's another percabeth situation, where people only defend the abuse that happens because of the gender (if calypso was male and leo was female, there would be a riot. same situation with the constant hitting/violence with annabeth. a genderswap would ruin these ships.) i dont think leo or calypso act happy in the relationship, whatsoever.

About Caleo.............

All right, I hate that ship, but my main problem is how Rick portrayed Calypso in PJO versus how she is portrayed in the actual mythology and the Odyssey.

Putting this under a cut because I don't want to clog your feed up.

It is wildly different. So different that you'll case a severe case vertigo every time you switch. Better go slow and let the snails guide you when dealing with them.

All right, people who are Greek Mythology fans who have also not read Percy Jackson, I'm going to need you to fortify yourself for this one. Fortify yourself BIG TIME.

Go outside, take a walk, drink some water, deep breaths, remind yourself of everything good in life. Even the smallest thing. You are going to need it, I swear. Get your comfort items, call loved ones to reassure yourself. Do everything.

All right, so I don't know how many PJO fans have read the Odyssey, but if you have read it before or after, doubtless you'll be surprised at how different the two Calypsos are.

Yeah. Ok. Shit's getting weird here.

Let me start with how Calypso is portrayed in the Odyssey.

She is not a sad, helpless UWU teen girl like Calypso in PJO. She shouldn't have even been a teenager in PJO-she romanced two grown men!

She's not the type of person to understand and let someone go. She didn't do that with Odysseus-she kept him captive for seven years and only let him go when Hermes threatened her with the wrath of Zeus (not something you want to tempt, never ends well.)

Being a nymph and a minor goddess who was the daughter of Atlas, she supported him during the First Titanomachy which was why she lived on Ogygia in exile as punishment. She's a goddess, which means that she was leagues more powerful than Odysseus, who was exhausted, traumatised and didn't have any crew or supplies to sustain him. Going back into the ocean was also dangerous because, well, Poseidon and his rage (not something you want to have on your head either).

It's literally stated in the poem that Odysseus cried on the beach every morning, wishing to return home and missing it terribly. He literally just wanted to see the smoke that rose from his homeland and wants to die. Exact lines copied from Homey's Odyssey-

'By night indeed he would sleep by her side perforce in the hollow caves, unwilling beside the willing nymph.'

'At night-time, true, he slept with her even now in the arching caverns, but this was against his will; she was loving and he unloving'.

'But Odysseus, in his longing to see were it but the smoke leaping up from his own land, yearns to die.'

And when Hermes forces her to let him go, she makes this speech saying that gods will ravish all the women they like, but the moment goddesses start doing the same, they are furious and make them stop.

That's literally just her trying to blame the gods and not herself for something she did. She's trying to shift the blame and make herself seem likeable because others did it, so why can't she?

This is something that a lot of abusers use to make them seem better. Calypso's actions are not ok, and the narrative does not tell us that it's ok. It condemns them, and so should we.

This by @katerinaaqu is a must-read, and you should check out their blog for more info on the real Calypso.

And how she's portrayed in Percy Jackson

We should not, for example, turn this adult nymph who's a rapist into a biologically and mentally 15-16 and make her a poor little girl who's sadly living on an island and then state that she's romanced grown men while somehow being 15-16 years old and ignore it.

I'm not saying that it had to be stated that she was a rapist because this is a children's book series.

But I'm not saying that she had to be portrayed as a teenager either.

The worst part is that though Calypso is depicted as a teenager, it's said that she fought in a war, the First Titanomachy which was much more serious than the Second One, and she romanced two grown men.

All of this while being a teenager? How the hell does that work? Apollo literally says that Calypso is old enough to be his babysitter! And he's millennia old! Millennia!

There is no logic in this, honestly. I mean, there's not much logic or consistency in PJO, but this really takes the cake.

And in Heroes of Olympus, more specifically the fourth book House of Hades, she appears again.........

And, well, this is where it gets really revolting.

Leo Valdez, a fifteen or sixteen year old teenager, is thrown all the way to Ogygia. And there he meets Calypso, who, as the book series states, cannot help but fall in love with every hero that appears on her island because they're just her type.

I think we all know what happens next.

Calypso, a millennia-old goddess who fought in a war and romanced grown men, gets into a relationship.........with a traumatized, mentally unstable teenage boy who's not even a legal adult. After only, what, a few weeks?

Yeah, you can see why I told you to remember everything happy in life at the beginning.

THE ATROCITY OF ROMANTICISED SUICIDE

Ok, so Caleo is abusive, but I'll get to that later.

What I want to talk about-first and foremost about Caleo-is that Leo commits suicide to find Calypso's island again-and this isn't good.

...............Sorry, did I say that that wasn't good?

No, that's a fucking understatement and underestimation.

IT'S ROMANTICISED SUICIDE.

Sink that in your head people. He killed himself to find her island again and take her off of it!

And no, that's not romantic. It's not. Fucking. ROMANTIC.

it's disgusting, unacceptable, unpleasant, nasty, disagreeable, horrid, unwholesome, atrocious, awful, deficient, revolting, lacking, unwelcome, unfortunate, inferior, inadequate, lousy, flawed, pathetic, disastrous, ill, useless, worthless, gross, damnable, vile, absymal, horrendous, shoddy, abominable, crappy, faulty, trashy, substandard, nasty, terrible, dreadful, unfavourable, grim, distressing, regrettable, adverse to morality and humanity, entirely unnecessary and not up to scratch (THAT WAS THE ITCHIEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN).

How, just how am I supposed to explain how horrible this is? Especially in a children's book series?

Killing yourself just to find a loved one is never a good concept in any form of media. It's a self-destructive fantasy and suicide itself is a horrible, horrible thing-not to blame the suicidal person, but to both them and their loved ones.

And suicide should never be romanticised, never ever, period. To do so, especially in a children's book series, is absolutely atrocious writing on the author's part, no matter who they are.

He never even called it out. If he had said that it was horrible and treated it as such, it would be a little better-but no. It's cheered on and encouraged, which is a level of hell that's deeper than the Earth's core.

I don't think I've emphasized how awful this is. It's just.......let's not romanticise suicide and suicidal tendencies. Not for anything. Never.

LEO'S ARC IS RUINED

The entire point of Leo Valdez's arc was to show that being the third wheel (seventh one in this case) wasn't bad. Being single, not finding romantic love, was fine. Acceptance without romance was possible, and pure platonic love was also possible. And Calypso pretty much ruined this because in the end, heteronormativity forces romance above everything.

And he literally prioritises this random girl whom he spent a few weeks with over his friends whom he spent months with and knows them way better than Calypso.

The forced amatonormativity here is crystal clear, as transparent as clean air honestly. You can see lichen on the trees if you look close enough.

Abuse in Caleo

Calypso is also abusive to Leo.

1) First of all, when Leo lands on Ogygia, Calypso is angry because in her words, 'the gods send her this charbroiled runt of a demigod instead of a real hero to mock her'.

She's rightfully angry that they didn't release her, but that doesn't mean that her words were any less painful to him. They did contribute to his insecurity issues. A few words can have a lasting impact, too.

She also looks into Leo's past and sees his memories. Without his permission. Which is pretty creepy and moves past boundaries in a bad way.

And he commits suicide to find her in BOO. I think I've already talked about how horrible that is. I didn't stress how bad it is even though I used so many words that I probably exhausted the Oxford Dictionary.

Now we come to the Dark Prophecy, where they star as a couple (more like a star explosion).

2) In TDP, Calypso jabs her fingers into Leo's ribs.

Why?

It's because she asked what was hiding Festus from the mortals, so he tells her what the Mist is and she says that already knows-even though she literally asked the question that provoked in the first place.

Even if she thinks he's insulting her or talking down, when he's not, she shouldn't jab her fingers into his ribs.

And that wasn't playful-Leo expressed physical pain through an exclamation. And even if Calypso thought it was playful, she didn't apologize afterwards when she saw that she caused Leo physical pain.

3) She also calls him by a name that he told her never to call him by-Leonidas.

He clearly doesn't like it, and knowing that, she still uses it, that too in front of someone they don't know very well, almost a stranger.

In the Riordanverse, names have power.

Leo chooses not to call himself that. He tells Calypso never to call him that. And she calls him that.

In this moment, she's taking his power and autonomy away from him by calling him something he doesn't like. It's probably minor to a lot of you, but honestly, it's pretty bothersome to those of us who have actually experienced this.

4) Leo often uses mechanical-related analogies, but Calypso hates them and makes him stop using them, so he doesn't even use them when she's not around.

What's wrong with him using his analogies? He uses them to help him and she makes him stop. She effectively stops him from using something that helps him. That is bad.

It's a fundamental part of him. If Calypso doesn't like it, then why is she dating him at all?

5) Leo is also bad to Calypso. He calls her Mamacita multiple times after she tells him not to. Reyna literally has to tell him to stop calling her that and intimidate him into doing it, and it's all passed off has lighthearted playfulness.

As someone who has been through this before, it's pretty damn frustrating. It's not funny or cute to do it. It's plain annoying and the person on the receiving end is completely right to want it to stop.

6) The age gap. I've mentioned this before.

But some people are saying that Calypso has the maturity of a teenager in PJO, so why shouldn't she date Leo?

All right, using that logic, let's make Apollo and Reyna date!

NO.

Calypso has lived for millennia on her island. She says that it's been three thousand five hundred and sixty eight years.

This isn't like Nico, who was in the Lotus Casino for decades but only aged a month. He was the same level of mature when he went into it and came out. Calypso was not.

Apollo has also lived for millennia. And he has a teenager's maturity. Does that mean it's ok for him to date Reyna.

No. It does not. And the same logic applies to Calypso and Leo.

I've also heard someone saying that Calypso is cursed to fall in love with whoever washes up on her island, which isn't true.

She says that the gods send her the type of person whom she can't help herself from falling in love with. Not that she's cursed to love them.

7) In TDP, Leo is working on something to try and find Georgina, a missing child.

And then when he says as much, Calypso sharply asks him if he can imagine losing his child.

He can, in fact, do that. He lost his mom, which was just as horrible if not more than Jo and Emmie losing their child, since there was a chance of Georgina coming back, but Esperanza could never come back.

He also has a little brother-Harley. He says that he would be furious if someone did something bad to Harley! So yes, he can in fact imagine what losing a child is like!

After this, Calypso for some reason gets frustrated and tells him that he can't reduce everything to a program.

He's not doing that. He's not reducing this problem to a program-he's working on a program to reduce this problem.

She tells him that Jo and Emmie don't need gadgets or jokes. They need someone who will listen.

And how is that going to help exactly? Leo is actually doing something. He's working on something to find Georgina.

A good listener is something nice to have, but a person who actually does something helpful is even better. And if Calypso thinks Jo and Emmie need a good listener, then she can listen. What else is she doing anyway?

Calypso willfully misunderstands this and wrongfully accuses him of not listening and trying to reduce everything to a machine when he's not. This is what a toxic partner does. They twist the narrative to make you think that your actions are wrong when they're not.

TO CONCLUDE

Neither Leo nor Calypso is happy in their relationship. It was built on naive dreams and false passions-the moment they became a real couple, they didn't know what to do. They thought that they loved each other, but it was only the idea of love and having a partner that was compelling to them. The moment they actually got what they wanted, which was to be in a real relationship, they didn't know how to actually be a couple. Then the problems of a real relationship began to hit both of them.

The logical solution would be to talk it out, apologise on both ends, realise that they wouldn't work out together and finally break up while remaining good friends or just stop contacting each other entirely-either one is fine.

They're taking a break now, so hopefully Rick Riordan will make them break up, but I think that he'll just never mention them again, which wouldn't be as great, but would be fine, honestly, regarding the current state of Rick Riordan.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Sun, sand and Graves

Phillip Graves x Fem!reader!

Summary : due to unexpected circumstances, you find yourself trapped in a sunny paradise with your colleague and begin to learn what he’s like outside of work.

Word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hey everybody! If this gets enough attention then I plan to make a part 2! Yearning part 3 will also begin to be made soon. I just wanna say I’m sorry for being so busy 😭 I hope this will help me get back into my writing schedule. All I can say now is I hope you enjoy the fic!

Never in a million years could you have thought of this scenario. You couldn’t picture you and your superior, Phillip Graves, curled up underneath an umbrella as you tried to find the most comfortable dips in the sand to rest each limb.

Never.

Although, it wasn't like you wanted to be here. Sure, the breeze blew gently onto your skin as the waves rolled up and down the shoreline lazily and it was definitely the most relaxing moment of your life.

Yet you couldn’t settle completely knowing why you were stuck in this sunny paradise.

"They what?", you remember looking up from the folder handed to you to meet his eyes .

To your surprise, they were glistening with ambition.

"Think of it as a happy little accident, doll.", he smiled, now taking it back from your hands and tossing it aside as he was clearly dealing with more important issues.

“We've got a couple of days to spend here, so why not make the most of it?"

"That is so unprofessional."

You couldn’t help it, after so many years of training and constant work you’d become a stickler to your usual schedule. You would’ve thought Graves would be the same.

"Well, you won't be telling Shepherd or those others now, will you?", Graves lowered his voice, leaning in slightly.

"I don't think you're giving me a choice here." you rolled your eyes playfully, turning on your heel to exit the safe house and find anything that was suitable for the weather.

-

Looking out onto the water from your towel, it was therapeutic.

Until you heard him shuffling in his spot right next to you.

"... Do you mind?"

"Not at all.", he let out a chuckle, looking up at you through his aviators.

Graves was only wearing shorts, propping himself up on his elbows to 'catch a tan' as he called it.

It felt unprofessional, but it didn't stop you from stealing glances at him every now and then.

"So... You go to the beach often?"

You turned to look at him, raising a brow at his sudden urge to talk to you after working under him for years.

"Yeah.. Every summer when I'm off of work."

"Nice, nice.. You go with friends or family?"

"Uhm.. Both? Not at the same time-"

You paused.

"Are you bored? Is that why you’re interrogating me?”

"What? Now why would you say that?”, he now sat up, staring at you with a pointed look.

"Why don't you go flirt with the locals? I'm busy.", you urged, fighting the temptation to shove him onto his feet and away from your solace.

"Because we should stay together."

You cocked a brow at his behaviour, "I'm sure you won't get lost in the crowd, it's not like I'm going anywhere.”

"Well then I'm not going anywhere either.", he announced indignantly.

"You're not really acting like my superior right now."

Laying back down onto your towel, you crossed your arms over your waist and tried to day dream. Anything that didn’t involve the man in front of you.

"I have a life when I'm not your superior, you know.", he was looking down at you from his awkward, sudden crouch.

A large grin was plastered on his face.

“Look, why don't we just get a drink? Cool down, relax and enjoy our time."

“Fine.”

You got up and sighed at your situation.

You never thought you would be standing on the beach, dressed in a bikini about to order possibly alcoholic beverages with your commander.

After slipping off the robe you'd been wearing, the breeze hit your stomach and upper thighs gently and you relaxed at the cool sensation.

"You done daydreaming over there?", he tilted his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

You groaned, holding onto your sunhat as the breeze attempted to blow if off of your head while you hurried along to catch up to his confident strides.

Graves stopped by the bar, leaning across the table and waiting with a smile for the bartender. Once they approached, he cleared his throat.

"Right.. Err, you speak English?", he clocked a brow at the bartender who nodded, clearly unimpressed.

"Can I get two of whatevers strongest?"

"Phillip?", you put a hand on his shoulder, making him suddenly turn and look up at you.

"Hm?"

He didn’t seem phased from your touch which was odd. The two of you didn’t interact like this very often.

"I'll just have a beer and I think you should too."

He sighed, looking back at the bartender still drying a glass.

"Can I just get two beers, please? Thanks."

"You see? Let's have something normal before we start seeing stars or something.", you laughed and took your bottle of beer.

“Sure- thank you!” He called to the bartender as he slid over some cash and walked beside you.

“I can’t wait to get this over with.”

“Why? This is a one in a lifetime opportunity.”

“It’s.. weird.”

You shrugged, sitting back down onto your towel and taking swigs of your beer every now and then.

He lowered himself down beside you, squatting as he looked around like a child in a candy store.

This must be paradise for him. Sun, sea and beautiful women everywhere you turned. Men are so typical.

“You’ll get over the feeling soon. Believe me, I’ve only had this happen once before and it wasn’t even that close to this.”

The two of you sat for awhile, making idle conversation in bits and pieces that were initiated by him. You were too busy listening to the waves crash against the nearby rocks. Graves took the hint and left you alone.

-

The door clicked shut and you both seemed to loosen up as you entered the safe house. It had been such a calm day that your senses were heightened; you were still tense and cautious deep down.

“Fun day, hm?” He smiled at you, instantly pulling off the vest he’d lazily put on before leaving the beach.

He walked over to his bed, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his toned back.

You didn’t want your eyes to travel. This wasn’t a holiday or some sort of fantasy.

They still managed to scan his broad shoulders and structured muscles, savouring every scar or imperfection scattered across his skin.

“I’m going to have a shower.” You blurted out, hastily making your escape before you started to examine the waistband of his shorts.

You shut the door behind you, locking it and turning the water on. It was loud and a good enough distraction for at least a second until you were getting flashes of the slight scar that traced his waist bone and curved around to his back.

It had only been a day and you were becoming an animal.

What was going on?

Stripping down quickly, you almost jumped into the welcoming stream of water. It felt good to wash all of the sand and sweat off.

Your hands trailed over your body, which prompted you to think about Graves. You hand on his shoulder.

He was firm, possessing a sense of solidity which made sense as your commander.

But as a man, it just made you feel weak in the knees.

You wondered how his hands felt. Maybe they were rough, calloused from work. Maybe they were cold; his fingertips spreading shivers across your skin as they tried to figure out any sensitive spots.

As you scrubbed gently over your skin, a sudden knock sent your arms crossed over your chest.

“What?!”, you called, a little angry for the interruption.

“How long? I need to shower too, you know.”

“When I’m finished!”

You huffed to yourself, now massaging soap into your hair. You really were losing it.

He still didn’t have the right to interrupt you though, it was getting good.

Sighing, you continued developing this daydream while you washed your hair.

You sometimes saw him ruffle some of his shadows’ hair in a show of appreciation. It was cute.

Now, you tried to envision his hands knotting through your hair. Fingers tangling around strands which sent shoots of pain to your scalp. Pain mixed with pleasure.

You rinsed your hair out, movement becoming much more sharper. You stopped when some small strands were pulled out and you shook them off, stopping the shower.

It was your warning to yourself to keep these thoughts private. Possibly just keep them as daydreams in the shower to stop you from feeling lonely. Sometimes work was tough, you deserved the break.

Even if that meant imagining getting intimate with your colleague.

It’s fine, it’s not like he’d ever find out.

As you wrapped as towel around your body, you unlocked the door to find him standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re awfully impatient.” You commented, smirking a little at his glare.

“Sure, but I know you’d do the same.” He grinned back, poking your chest and immediately darting into the bathroom. The door clicked shut and you were left alone.

Did he just… poke you?

A tentative hand brushed over the spot that had just been touched.

It’s nothing. He probably didn’t think before acting.

You turn away and begin to put on some pajamas for the night. Soft and skimpy - a pair of thin, cotton shorts and a vest which hung loosely on your figure.

It was now the late afternoon.

Graves had finished his shower and you wanted to glue your face to your palms to prevent your eyes from gazing at his hips or happy trail. It was blonde.

You only knew that because his hair was blonde. Nothing more.

“You don’t fancy going out tonight?”

Your brows furrowed. That was out of line.

“I’m getting rest. Something that is rare when working for the Shadow corporation.”

You rolled on your side and now shuffled in your bed, trying to get comfortable.

“Hit a nerve there…” he sighed, sitting opposite you on his bed before continuing.

“Well, you can’t be tired already.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Alright, alright… I’ll leave you be.”, Graves pulled himself up, walking over to the little desk situated in the room. He fell back into the chair and whistled.

He was bored and you knew it.

You shot up from your bed, glaring at him.

He won this time.

“Fine! We can go out. Let me get changed…” you muttered, snatching your clothes and retreating to the bathroom after your bitter defeat.

He may or may not have whistled a celebratory tune as you passed by.

[rottenpumpkin13]

I'm sending asgzc on a shopping trip! What ridiculous things do they buy and what happens

Angeal: He's the type of person to become giddy at home appliance stores. Angeal drags the rest of the group to the camera shop, the plant store and, as a treat that gives Genesis anxiety, the thrift store.

Genesis: You are NOT purchasing that.

*Angeal is wearing a T-shirt that reads "PROUD GRADUATE OF THE HOW TO BECOME AN ALPHA MALE CLASS OF 1998"*

Angeal: I don't know what you mean. This shirt is in perfectly good condition.

Sephiroth is wearing a shirt that reads "RIZZ 'EM WITH 'TISM"

Sephiroth: Don't be a snob, Genesis.

Zack & Cloud: They have loads of fun as Zack shows Cloud around all those big city stores he's never been in. They hit up the video game store, a hunting store where Zack buys a pocket knife that doubles as a spoon and a toenail clipper, buy matching leather jackets, visit the pet store and yearn to co-parent a pet hamster they'd name Thrasher, and, the best part of their shopping trip: The Silver Elite store.

*Zack and Cloud meet the rest of the group with a bunch of shopping bags from the Silver Elite store*

Zack: We got tons of Sephiroth merch!

Genesis: You two are ridiculous, fawning over useless items that glorify a celebrity.

Cloud: By the way, Genesis, here's your Silver Elite VIP member card back.

Genesis: ......

Sephiroth: ...........

Genesis: While he loves hitting up designer boutiques and fancy department stores to update his wardrobe—and make his friends into pack chocobos as they carry his bags for him—Genesis thrives at the book shop. He's like a kid in a candy store, breathing in the scent of new books and exploring all the fun, new reads he can't wait to sink his teeth into.

*Genesis comes back with a shopping bag*

Angeal: Well? You were in there for two hours. Buy any interesting books?

Genesis: After much deliberation, yes, I found one book that I'm sure I'll enjoy~

*Genesis pulls out a copy of Loveless from the bag*

Angeal: ........

Genesis: I wonder what it's about.

Sephiroth: He enjoys accompanying his friends on shopping trips, but it's only to spend time with them. In reality he doesn't have strong material urges, although.....

*Sephiroth comes back carrying five large bags, seemingly very content with his purchases*

Zack: Aww, find something you like?

Sephiroth: Yes. I stumbled across the most amazing store. It sold everything from limited edition train sets, remote control airplanes, several colorful marbles that I intend to start collecting, board games, and it even had an arts and crafts section.

Genesis: You went to a toy store.

Sephiroth: No I didn't.

Angeal: It says so right on the shopping bags—Midgar Toys.

Sephiroth: You cannot prove anything.

Cloud: You're wearing a glow stick necklace and a ring pop.

Sephiroth: Yes, envy me.

[meddowflowers]

Junebug [ Ficlet ]

Pre-relationship wildflowers ficlet because I've been replaying the game and thinking about that first summer together... The yearning is very very cute, I think :)c

"Do you- uh- do you like your name?"

Delilah answered Heather's question with a soft laugh. "What, don't think it suits me?" Her tone was rather teasing, as seemed it be its natural state most days.

"Well I never said all that!" Heather responded, echoing the other's laugh. "I just, y'know, I'm curious. Trying to make small talk."

They did a lot of that, Heather noted. Just making small talk, chatting about whatever, whenever, why-ever. It was nice to fill the silence and solitude of the lookout towers with chatter. Or, at the very least, complaining about the heat and whatever campers had illegally lit a campfire that week.

Delilah made a soft noise of contemplation before she spoke again. "I like it," she said. "I've never really thought about it, I guess. I think my mom told me I was named after a great-great-aunt, or something."

"Ooo, Delilah the second~!" Heather purred, a crappy British accent finding its way into her voice.

Delilah chuckled softly, and the sound made Heather's heart jump just a bit in her chest. Though, she chose not to think too hard about it, again.

"What about your middle name? You said it was June, right? When- uh- when we named the fire." A pause. "When I named the fire."

"It's fine," she responded, her answer coming quicker this time, as if she'd thought about it before. (Ironic, Heather noted, since it was her middle name, not her first name that got all the attention)

"The worst part is the, y'know, the month jokes. I wasn't even born in June." Before Heather could ask about when she was born, Delilah was already continuing. "No! The real worst part is that every goddamn guy who learns you're named June and you're even a little bit outdoorsy?" She shook her head- Heather couldn't see her, but she could tell. "He's calling you junebug."

"Aww, not a bugs girl?" Heather asked, equal parts teasing and genuinely surprised.

Delilah hummed. "Well, I don't mind bugs. You kinda have to when you work here. These towers aren't exactly air-tight." She paused, like she was thinking.

"I guess it's just a bit overplayed. I'd like to hear some variation, you know? You can only be so many guys' junebug before it start getting old."

Heather made a soft noise of acknowledgement, and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

Delilah was the one to break it.

"What would you call me?"

"What?" Heather asked, just to ensure she'd heard Delilah correctly. To make sure she was reading this right.

"If we were dating. What would you call me?" Her tone was light, but it carried an odd weight to it. It was no longer just small talk, it was... something else. Something a bit more.

"Gosh, um..." Heather was quiet for a long few moments, playing a few names in her head. Toying with the sounds and syllables before they hit her tongue.

"I... would probably go with junebug too, I think," she admitted, almost sheepishly.

"Ugh, boo!" Delilah laughed, the way she rolled her eyes evident in her tone. She clicked her tongue. "Maybe I can make an exception for you. Who knows, it might be fresh when it's a woman saying it instead."

That made Heather's heart do a flip. Part of her wanted that- to be the one calling Delilah cute nicknames. Really, really badly.

She didn't say that, of course.

"Junie would be my second choice, I think," was what she said instead, a few moments later. "It's cute."

Distantly, she hoped it got across the same message, somehow.

"Huh," was Delilah's response. "Junie... I'd like that."

After that response... she was sure it had.

[seiya-starsniper]

For the angst prompt list: “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Oh I absolutely ADORE this particular prompt, I'm so glad you've picked it. I'd previously done a fill for it [here], but this one's an entirely different premise all on its own, I hope you enjoy it!

angst prompts list

cw: memory loss -----

The man standing across the bar is dangerous.

Rob’s gained an appreciation for dangerous creatures, ever since he woke up in the middle of what was effectively the aftermath of a bloodbath, with no memory of who he was or how he got there. All he knew was that something bad had happened, and somehow, he’d survived it.

He’d fled London shortly after, when he’d discovered that while he didn’t know who he was, it seemed other more powerful and dangerous creatures did. Rob realized fairly quickly that if he had any hope of living a normal life, leaving the continent was probably the best course of action. He’d barely had time to investigate the life he’d had beforehand, only knowing that his captors had tracked him down under the name Robert Goldsmith.

That had been over 20 years ago. Rob hasn’t aged a day since then, and he’s also unfortunately never been able to fully shake attracting the supernatural. There’s something about him, the demons and the fae and the vampires tell him. Something old, something covetous. Rob knew he was older than he looked, he could feel his age in his bones, and one too many close calls with death all but proved he was some sort of immortal.

And now he’s caught the scent of something even older than him. The man (no, he’s not a man, he only wears the skin of a man) is stunningly beautiful, with wild dark hair and eyes bluer than the sky. If Rob didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man was an elf or some other type of fae, but no. He’s older than that. More powerful than that.

An angel, perhaps? He’s certainly beautiful enough to be one. Rob’s only heard rumors of their existence, but he’s also heard looking upon them would burn your eyeballs right out of their sockets. He tries not to appear wary and guarded as the creature locks eyes with him, but he can’t help but let out a small gasp, heart thundering in his chest, as the man-shaped being begins to approach his table. 

“Hob Gadling,” the creature addresses him. “I have been searching for you.”

The declaration hit Rob like a hammer to the face. Something inside him is howling, yes, that is me, I am Hob, and it’s almost as terrifying a feeling as when he first woke up in that bloodied basement, his memories wiped clean from his mind. Somehow this creature knows him, not in the way the others have known of him, but actually knows who he was before his memories were stolen.

“I’m sorry,” Rob (no, not Rob, he is Hob) says, trying hard to keep his voice as light as possible, even as he feels his entire world shift sideways. “Have we met before?”

The creature rears back as if Hob had slapped him across the face. His pained expression grips something in Hob’s heart, something old, something achingly familiar. Hob knows then, in this exact moment, that this creature is something precious to him. A companion. A friend. His heart yearns to reach out this beautiful being, to touch, to hold, anything to reassure him that finally, he is no longer alone in this world.

But then the man’s eyes narrow, pain now replaced by unmistakable fury, and it is Hob who rears back now, a deep seated fear he knows but does not remember rising to the surface. 

“A memory demon has taken your mind,” the man growls, his voice suddenly octaves deeper than it had been when he had first greeted Hob. He stands suddenly, and moves to leave the bar.

Absolute terror grips Hob then, and he shouts, “Wait, don’t leave!” before getting up himself to chase the man.

The stranger (his Stranger?) is fast, but Hob manages to catch him just outside the door. He grips the other man’s arm tightly, hoping and praying that somehow he won’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

“Please don’t leave me again,” Hob begs. Again? Hob thinks to himself. Has the stranger left him before?

The man’s expression softens instantly.

“Had my hubris not gotten the better of me,” the Stranger says, all righteous fury gone from his voice, “I would not have allowed this to happen. My imprisonment has taken far more from me than I ever feared.”

Imprisonment?

“You were captured?” Hob breathes, shocked.

“I was,” the Stranger replies. “I did not miss our appointment in 1989 intentionally.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about,” Hob says, practically in hysterics. “Will you tell me? Everything I’m missing? I…I haven’t been back to London since…”

“I had planned,” the Stranger interrupts him, “to seek the demon who stole your mind.”

“I’ve been without my memories for 20 years now,” Hob replies. “I can go on for a few more days. Just. Stay. Please.”

Something in his tone must appeal to the Stranger, because he sighs and then nods his agreement. 

“Have you a place where we may speak in private?” he asks, and Hob nods. 

“Not too far of a walk from here,” Hob replies, before he realizes he still has a death grip on the Stranger’s arm. He releases it, slowly, still not totally convinced the other won’t disappear if he lets go. When he does not, Hob jerks his head in the direction of his apartment, and then they begin to walk. 

“I guess we could start with names then?” Hob asks. “You, uh, you seemed to know mine. My true name anyways. I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten yours.”

The stranger huffs, and shakes his head, as if recalling a particularly humorous memory. Hob wonders if he’ll hear what it is in their talk tonight.

 “My name,” the man says, voice lowered to almost a purr, “is Dream.”