#— words come drabbles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euphor1a · 11 months

Text

Jeonghan eats you out on his desk

thirst drabbles (9/∞)

fandom » svt

pairing » jeonghan x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, workplace au, boss au

word count » ~ 1710

warnings » profanity, dom/sub undertones, office sex, dirty talk, sir kink, brief breast play, jeonghan is a biter, fingering, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, long haired jeonghan (... yeah 🥴), hair pulling, lmk if i missed anything!

The dim and warm night lights of his office bounce off the bare skin of your body, illuminating you in a glow that makes Jeonghan dazed. You pant against his firm chest, all your clothes scattered around the office, blindly thrown off by the gorgeous man who rubs your clit over your panties. The soft cotton has soaked through, providing lubrication between the material and your sensitive areas.

This certainly isn’t what you expected when you were notified to join your boss for an overnight shift to sort out some problems right before clocking out. Even for Jeonghan — he has no idea how it got this far, but it happened, and he has no intention of stopping now.

It’s not like he has had a silly little crush on you since forever. And he has definitely never ever daydreamed about things he should not be fantasizing with a junior employee. Thankfully though, none of that matters now. You’re all bare and vulnerable in his arms, shaking and whimpering, entirely under his mercy.

Jeonghan pushes you further back on the smooth mahogany desk, his searching honey browns finally meeting you. However, your immediate response is to lower your eyes, avoiding the gaze that’s intense enough to eat you up. As if for revenge, he removes the hand from your aching core, depriving you of the stimulation. You whine weakly, looking back up to see why he stopped.

A knowing smirk adorns his cherry lips, his eyes tingling with lust and fondness. “Awh, you didn’t like that one bit, huh?” Jeonghan teases, holding your jaw so you can’t look away. Unable to dodge his question, you nod, still very shy. Even though you are in a state like this — he is still your boss.

“Use your words, angel.” He leans down a bit, those long, raven strands of his hair creating a sheer curtain over some parts of his face. You gulp, failing to look away from the enticing sight. How can a human be so good looking?

“C’mon now, baby, put that pretty mouth of yours to use.” Jeonghan tuts, eyes squinting in disapproval. That makes your stomach jump, and you blurt out a very unsure ‘please.’

“Please what?” His smooth chuckle fills up the silent room and you swear your heart skips a beat. You’ve never heard him laugh before. But the sound of it is so effortlessly attractive, you can’t help your own lips curling upwards. He pauses for a split second, a hum reverberating in his throat. “Are you embarrassed? Don’t be, baby. I already got you leaking and all needy, there’s no point of shying away now, yeah?”

Heat rushes your cheeks, because he isn’t lying at all. “Um, Sir—” you begin, struggling to find the right words. Jeonghan wonders if he should ask you to call him by his name, but realizes that the ‘Sir’ is a bigger turn on than he expected. He rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt a bit more, loosening the tie from around his neck. You know he’s testing your sanity, but he just looks so fucking hot doing it.

“Mhm, go on, angel.”

“Please touch me. Please. It hurts.”

Excitement bubbles up in his chest. But he hides it masterfully, scrunching up his face in pity. “Oh no, does it? I’m so sorry to hear that, angel.” Jeonghan lets his right hand stroke along your inner thigh, making you shudder. “Where does it hurt? Lemme make you feel better.”

You consider saying it out loud, but you discard that option almost immediately. So instead, you gently grab on the hand stroking your thigh and place it to cup your clothed pussy. “Fuck,” Jeonghan hisses at the feeling, applying a bit pressure on your cunt, coaxing a moan out of you.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby. And it’s worse because you seem like you don’t know it.” Your boss rasps, pushing you down until your back hits the hardwood. You prop up using your elbows, gasping when he grips the back of your head and finds your lips for a kiss. His other hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, coming in contact with your moist warmth that drips for his attention.

Jeonghan groans in the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth without much resistance from your side. You almost feel like you’re melting, his fingers steadily rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves and getting slathered up in your juices. His tongue is dominant against yours, swirling and slurping, sensitizing you further.

You arch your back, your neglected, erect nipples pressing into his chest. Jeonghan moves the hand from the back of your head, immediately grasping the soft flesh and making you cry out. You pull away from the mind-numbing kiss to catch your breath, eyes a bit teary from all the sensations you feel.

He leans down to touch your foreheads together, his hot breath fanning over your face and his nose nuzzling into yours. Jeonghan has noticed how sensitive and responsive you are to his actions, and it makes his heart swell. As if he isn’t fond of you enough already.

You whimper when he pinches your stiffened nipple between his thumb and index, his lips peppering butterfly kisses on your nose and cheeks. “Am I making you feel good, hm?” Jeonghan catches your earlobe between his teeth, gnawing at it. You nod desperately, gasping when he slips his middle finger into your sopping core.

“Answer me, baby.” Your boss trails wet kisses down your neck, biting down where it meets your shoulders. A strangled moan escapes you, your body buzzing with pleasure.

“Ugh, y-yes, Sir,” You stutter as he wraps his lips around your nipple, his teeth and tongue working wonders together. Jeonghan wishes he could consume you entirely. He leaves bites all over your breasts, his growing bulge pressing into your thigh.

He pulls you in for a messy kiss, another finger entering your cunt. Your cries of pleasure get muffled in his mouth as he increases his speed significantly, loud squelching sounds filling up the office. “Can you hear that, angel? You are so wet for me, swallowing my fingers greedily and squeezing them like a lewd girl.”

You clench at his words, ecstasy building up very rapidly with his fast pumps. It makes you lose the ability to think properly. The way he’s constantly hitting the spots that make you mushy, the way he curls his fingers inside your molten warmth, it’s too much. You are so, so close to—

Jeonghan stops moving his digits, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you. Denied from the obvious upcoming release, your body jolts up, a few tears escaping your eyes. You whine, watching your boss tugging down your absolutely ruined panties.

“Shh, don’t cry, I promise I’m gonna make it up to you.” He tosses away the piece of clothing, finally taking a look at your pussy. “Good. Fucking. Lord,” Jeonghan mutters at the sight, his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers. He has reduced you to an utter mess — clit all swollen; all of your pussy covered with the warm, slippery slick that leaks out of your hole.

Jeonghan licks his lips instinctively, placing both of your legs on his shoulders before leaning in to press a fleeting kiss on your mound. You cover your mouth with your hand, the extreme ache for some sort of stimulation blinding you. On the other hand, he attacks your inner thigh with bites, trying his best to control himself despite the dizzying scent of your arousal that calls for him.

“Please,” you beg, eyes watering once again, “Sir, I can’t.” Jeonghan looks up from between your legs, his hot breath puffing against your aching cunt.

“Don’t hide your face. I wanna see and hear you as you fall apart and gush in my mouth.” You remove your hand immediately, gripping on the side of the desk instead. Satisfied, he locks his lips with your nether ones, suckling on them soundly. His tongue strokes your clit and runs along your slit, your body visibly shaking from relief. A grunt rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, fuck— you taste s’good.”

Jeonghan watches you keenly, the way you twitch and moan, and the way you grip on the desk for dear life. On a whim, he takes your right hand and urges you to grip onto his luscious locks instead. You’re taken aback, but comply anyway, threading your fingers through his hair.

A sudden bite on your clit has you screaming, your fingers tightening and tugging on his hair. Jeonghan growls, and you know that he’s satisfied by the way his lips curl upwards around your pussy. You’re shaking, losing your mind at how good he’s eating you out. Desperate for a release, you wound your other hand in his hair as well, rocking your hips against his face.

Jeonghan slips his tongue inside your cunt as if on approval, his teeth dragging along the raw flesh of your core. His thumb finds your aching clit, rubbing it in tight ‘eight’s, a string of incoherent words leaving you. You pull onto his hair, feeling like you’re going to melt. He can tell that you’re close, the denied orgasm that left you overly sensitive amplifying all the sensations.

Several tears fall from your eyes, body tensing up as the coil inside your lower stomach snaps finally. You scream out his name, gripping onto his hair for dear life, body convulsing with waves of ecstasy. Jeonghan moans at the taste of your sweet release on his tongue, your gummy walls clamping down onto the flexible muscle.

Your body gives up as you lay down on the table, breathing uneven and body shuddering from the aftermath. Jeonghan takes his sweet time slurping up all the precious juices you’ve given him to devour. You lose all your thoughts for several moments, floating through the euphoria.

The sound of his belt buckle brings you back from the seventh heaven. You open your eyes, immediately blessed with the view of your boss’s toned chest and stomach. Feeling your gaze on him, Jeonghan unzips and pulls down his pants, a coy smile on his lips.

“You didn’t think that we’re done here, did you?”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it hehe 🫣! i certainly enjoyed writing it... 🤒; actually i was a mess but hey i made it through saur anyway 🧍🏽‍♀️ apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

this was requested by @baljinciaga a while back when i opened up my requests! thank you for the request fren, i hope i could deliver what you asked for~~ “I've been on jeonghan kick lately and this man had the audacity to chop his hair off before I became a fan skdrffyrhfht. Do you think you could do a drabble where he has long hair and you grip it while he's eating you out 😚”!

requests are back to being closed now!

↬ navigation

665 notes · View notes

mosaickiwi · 9 months

Text

Sick Nasty

Rendacted is (love) sick who cares if it's cute and weird get him to a doctor!!! Kinda drabble. GN reader.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

You wanted to surprise your boyfriend early in the morning to get breakfast, but he didn't answer the door. He hadn’t responded to your text messages either. So you simply used the key he’d given you months ago to let yourself in. But instead of finding him awake and distracted by something else, a concerning sight greeted you in his bedroom.

[REDACTED] was splayed out face down on one side of his mattress, in an unusually deep sleep. His tank top had ridden up a little, exposing his lower back. One tattooed arm dangled off the edge of the bed, while the other was slung over a body pillow—decorated with a particular sweatshirt you hadn't seen in a while. That didn't actually concern you too much. What did, however, was the strange halo of plushies and more of your clothes stacked around his head. Several hoodies, another sweatshirt, and some sweatpants that you'd left for whenever you were staying the night encircled his dark hair like a summoning ritual.

You looked down at him with mixed feelings, but silently pulled out your phone anyway. "At least I have evidence of your crimes now," you hummed while snapping a few photos. Once that was taken care of, you bent down and shook his shoulder. He felt surprisingly hot.

He mumbled and rolled onto his side, disturbing his shrine. His blue eyes were clouded as he roughly pushed his messy bangs back. He sucked in a breath before giving you a tired smile. "Oh, Angel? G'morning," he yawned. As he sat up and stretched, he looked down at the clothes and stuffed animals strewn across his sheets. It took a moment for his eyes to widen a fraction, as if he wasn't quite sure he was awake yet. "Shit. I can explain."

You ignored him and grabbed both his cheeks, worriedly studying his face. He immediately drifted into careful silence at your touch, eyelids fluttering closed. His skin felt like it was on fire. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. And despite just waking up from what must've been a coma, he looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes far worse than usual.

A frown pulled at your lips. "You're sick."

"I was going to wash them," your tired boyfriend mumbled in a hazy voice, his head falling forward slightly. "The scent just helps me sleep—"

"I'm not talking about my clothes, you thief. You have a fever,” you emphasized and pulled away, standing back up. He whined in disapproval, leaning forward to follow your retreating hands. You held still so he’d calm down before continuing, “Do you have any medicine here? I’ll have to go to the pharmacy if not.”

“I don’t think so. ‘Can go with you.” He weakly tugged you close and pressed his head against your stomach.

“No.”

You felt him groan into your shirt, “I’ll wait in the car.”

“You can wait in your bed.”

“Angel, please. Y'hurting me.” He squeezed a little tighter, but you knew it’d be much easier than normal to get out of his grip.

Even so, you relented with a fake sigh. Letting him have his way at the moment would hopefully make him more agreeable later. “I can just get it delivered. Scoot over,” you demanded and gently nudged him. He excitedly moved away to make room as you crawled onto the covers. You made a point of gathering all your clothes into a pile at one corner of the bed. They’d have to be dealt with later. “Since you’re sick, I won’t take these back just yet.”

[REDACTED] innocently smiled—without even a hint of shame—but didn’t say a word. Instead, he draped himself over your lap to relish in his victory. You sat back and scrolled through your phone to place the delivery order. It didn't take long.

“We’ve got 20 minutes. Can you try to be a bit more reasonable by then?” you asked and dropped your phone to the side. You busied yourself with his hair, threading through the dark strands as he closed his eyes.

He barely mumbled a ‘hmm’ in response, much too content with your fingers massaging his scalp. Unfortunately for his immune system (and your legs), he had no intentions of getting out of your lap.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy redacted #14dwy ren #momo writing #so i wasn't sure if i should say drabble or not cause like #how come google defines a drabble as 100 words or less #definitions don't mean anything #anyways i am ~normal~ about he <3 #i want all his germs

350 notes · View notes

keeponquinning · 1 year

Note

hey yve, now that summer is coming, do you ever think about eddie being annoyed by the hot weather? he has a rickety old fan blowing on him in his room. he’s in nothing but a tank top, lazily stroking himself. his ass sweat making a stain on his bed and his bangs slick to his forehead. he’s wanting nothing more to finish so he can stop stewing in it, but he’s having such a hard time without you there to help him

sorry about this mutuals. it’s demon hours and she asked for it

I didn't think about that, @eddieandbird

I'M THINKING ABOUT THAT NOW !!

I was thinking i wanted summer to come but now I have a whole ass different reason.

18+ !!!

Eddie would be so annoyed with the hot summer weather, the boy wasn't made for it, the fan helps, but not by much. what made it worse, funnily enough, is when he went to the mall with you earlier. because YOU love the summer, and looking forward to it, though you loved cuddling with your boyfriend in the cold, you loved the sun and that feeling of being free in loose fitting clothing made for the heat. you're amazed eddie still goes out with the layered clothing and jeans, already wearing some short shorts and a tank top for the shopping trip. he say you dress in cute summer dresses, so flow-y and cute as you twirled for him. then in more tank tops and jean shorts, showing off your hips and thighs — oh yeah, he really liked those. But the most torture for our favorite boyfriend? when you wanted to try some swimsuits. oh, he loved that the best. at first you tried out the one piece that showed off your curves and more of your thighs, hugging you in the right places, his fingers just itching to grab at you right there in the dressing room. but when you came out with the two piece? cherry red? hugging your breasts and showing off your tummy and your ass, your perfect ass?? He almost lost it. you were too perfect! you looked too good! he almost didn't want you to get that one in case any wandering eyes that were not his looked at the perfect vision of you.

but you did, anyway.

which led him to this sad state, practically melting in the heat, stroking his hard, fat cock, slick from his pre-cum and lube? or just sweat?? he wasn't sure, it made his hand glide up and down with ease, though, bringing him waves of pleasure as his cock throbbed and pulsed...thinking of you in the cherry red two piece bikini, knowing you'd taste so sweet on his tongue... but you were at home, probably sleeping like an angel, while his mind was filled with filth, imagining it's your hand stroking him instead. that helped a little, his tongue poking out between his lips as his hand went faster and faster, imagining you. imagining you begging for him to cum just for you... but every time he was close, something would distract him. some sound from outside the trailer, something that broke the fantasy of you being with him. he wanted to cum, needed to cum, but without you? he just didn't see the point.

"Baby?" he said into the phone when he was too needy. "Did I wake my princess?"

"Mmmhm," you sleepily respond, but he could tell you were smiling. "I don't mind, I was dreaming about you. Made my dream come true."

He grinned so happily at that, biting his bottom lip. "Wanna help me make my dream come true?"

You didn't think you did much, he was saying things much filthier than you were, but with your sweet voice in his ear, encouraging him, saying how much you loved him, he came all over his hand so quickly, so powerful it took the both of you by surprise. The sound of his laugh as he came made your heart beat louder and you grow wet. Repaying you the favor and talking you through your orgasm, his voice soft and deep doing things to you that you hadn't understood. After a moment it was just the two of you on the line, catching your breaths, laughing softly at the moment, how soft it was, how hot, how loving and yet how dirty.

"You know..." you started, swallowing hard. "If you had wanted to do something in the changing room... I would have wanted that, too."

"Shit... Really?"

"Mmhm. I... I would have wanted you to... I kind of...wanted you to touch me, the way you were looking at me with the two piece..."

He let out a sigh, "Shit... Wish I'd known that... I would have, Sweetheart... You looked..." Letting out a laugh, humming softly. "You looked perfect. If I see you wear it again, I... I don't think I'd be able to help myself, y'know?"

"Mmm... I was going to wear it tomorrow, when we're gonna go to the pool..."

"God... Yeah.... Yeah, do that... Gonna kill me, Sweetheart. You really are. But it's one hell of a way to go." He took a deep breath, "You know I hate the summer, right?"

You chuckled, "Uh-huh."

"Yeah, well... It's... It's not so bad, with you. As soon as I heard your voice? Heat didn't bother me once. You're my oasis. Thank you for that. Makes me think... This'll be my best summer yet, our best summer, I can feel it."

#— words come drabbles #eddieandbird #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader

421 notes · View notes

novasintheroom · 6 months

Text

Smell is one of Vash’s favorite senses.

It wasn’t before he met you. Before you, smells were just smells. The hot air of the desert, the metallic tang of bullets too close, B.O. in a bar, the smell of the day’s stew being boiled in the back. All information telling him a million different things. Some of them he even likes! Especially donuts.

But then you come along and you rub your hands with apple scented lotion, you spray yourself with rose water, your breath is minty fresh and you smell clean. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the smell of cleanliness ‘til he travelled with you. He only smells cleanliness when visiting Home – and you’re becoming a second home to him. It’s hard to stay clean out in the wastes, he knows better than most. He appreciates what you put into your cleanliness so much.

He gets into the habit of looking for lotions or body sprays you (and he) would like. You complain once that you’re nearly out of your lotion, and the next day a new bottle is sitting on your bag, because he keeps emergency bottles just for cases like this. He starts smelling his own clothes, trying to not bother you with any sweat smells (though he’s been told that he only ever smells fresh, which must have something to do with his Plant DNA). He becomes so much more aware of scent after you.

And when you aren’t travelling together, when you must go your own ways for a day, or a month, or a year, he looks for you through scents. A whiff of apples will bring back memories of your soft hands and bright grin. Roses are subtle and remind him of the jokes you’d say to get him smiling after being run out of town. He buys these things now and uses them every once in a while when he’s feeling lonely.

Vash always waits for the day when roses and apples will come back into his life, and you always do.

#this was done so quickly lmao #i wonder if i challenge myself to keep it under 100 words what would come out??#i may have to try that tomorrow #trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #nova writes #drabble

152 notes · View notes

ven7s · 2 years

Text

you & me, right here, right now.

— scaramouche x gn!reader ; wc. 1.1k; genre fluff, angst, hurt-comfort

notes. this is before scaramouche became a harbinger. personal headcanons mixed in 🤭. not proofread. i haven’t written in a while so sorry if this is rigid

contrary to popular belief, scaramouche is actually quite vulnerable.

yeah, scaramouche, ei's prototype and creation, is vulnerable.

the abandonment by his creator was caused by his cries at birth. he's always had an overwhelming amount of emotions flooding within him. and ever since the abandonment, his identity had been stolen.

he doesn't exactly know who he is or what his purpose is in this world.

he's terribly afraid, angry, and most of all, desolate.

and as he wanders around the land of inazuma, he finds himself a temporary home in tatarasuna.

while he walks through the region, he finds children laughing and running around without a care in the world. their grandparents watch them, some scold the kids to be careful while others sit on the front of their house, waving their grandchildren and their friends over to eat fruit. and he can't help the small smile that arises on his face as he watches them do so.

he wonders if he could have been one of those children if not for the fact he was born only to be discarded by ei, the almighty shogun.

then he remembers those foolish feelings are the reason for his misery. he hates the reminder of it and soon enough he finds himself repressing those feelings.

but then, only a month into settling in tatarasuna, he bumps into you, a common villager. the first encounter is a chance meeting, at the local supermarket when you had both reached for the same amakumo fruit.

you laugh an apology for the inconvenience and as he looks up, all he sees is the smile across your face and amused look in your eye.

he mumbles out an "it's okay" before reaching for the fruit next to the one he had just tried to take.

as he turns around to go to the vendor, you pause him, and he looks at you in confusion.

"wait, wait, you shouldn't take that one. it’s rotting," you say hurriedly, handing him the fruit that both of you had attempted to grab a minute ago, "here, this ones perfect!"

scaramouche looks at your outstretched hand, then to the fruit.

"how'd you know?" he asks, looking at your fruit then back to the one in his hand.

"hm?" you look confused for a moment before your face brightens up again, "oh! you must not be from around here!"

you go on to explain the difference between the two fruits and soon enough you realize that scaramouche doesn't really know.. anything.

when he gives a vague explanation about how he hasn't been in inazuma since he was born you offer to help him around. and soon enough the two of you are joined at the hip.

wherever you are, he's there. and wherever he is, you're there.

in no time, your relationship progresses from mere strangers to friends.

now, two years later, he finds himself growing shy from your presence. the fleeting touches of your body against his makes him rigid with embarrassment and he can't help the warmth that rises.

with the help of a local grandmother, he finally realizes those feelings to be love. and the first thought that comes to him is that it's about time for you to abandon him. it’s okay he thinks. he doesn’t truly have a heart anyways, it wouldn’t affect him in the very least.

that's what he repeats to himself everyday anyways.

but quite frankly, if he's being really honest, scaramouche knows he doesn't want you to leave, he doesn't know how he would handle it.

and the disbelief of how you've managed to stay by his side for so long is already always in the back of his mind.

it doesn't help how scaramouche feels guilt throb inside of him whenever he's with you. he feels like he’s been deceiving you, not sharing much about himself while you share the wonders of the world with him. he knows how frustrating it must be to be his friend, even more, a potential lover. he’s barely told you about his past, being vague about his family and himself, just alluding to certain things.

you know though. you know that he's had a difficult past, albeit never being told about it. but you understand, and he's grateful.

“is it okay for me to stay by your side?”

your eyes widen slightly, turning over to where scaramouche sits, but ,then, the loud noises of crackles interrupt. in the reflection of scaramouche’s eyes you see brilliant lights, flaring into the sky. they’re like giant, sparkling flowers that bloom in the air, lasting only a few seconds, and quickly being replaced by new surges of color.

you look over again and the wonder and curiosity that fills scaramouche’s eyes as he watches the fireworks has your heart drumming in your chest.

“i only want you,” you say without a thought and this time scaramouche’s eyes widen, “i’ve never regretted meeting you. and i never will.”

your whispered words makes him feel as if something is stirring inside of him, it feels as if his heart is aching, but that would be impossible.

again, the heartless scaramouche feels overwhelmed with feelings and he feels the tears trying to burst through the seams. for a second he thinks again about his birth and how these feelings are worthless, that they are the sole reason why his mother had rejected him.

then he feels your hand take his and the gentle way in which you pull him into your arms. you rub his back and whisper, “it’s okay. i'm here for you. i'll always be here for you kuni. you can let yourself feel, it’s okay.”

because you already know.

you’re a common villager in tararasuna, and you already know of scaramouche’s origin. you’ve heard the rumors circulating the town. that the almighty shogun had created a doll, one that resembled the shogun so similarly with fair skin, long indigo hair, and beauty so unimaginable that you couldn't fathom it. it wasn't hard to connect the dots, how your new friend was supposed to be the almighty shogun's puppet.

and although it’s quiet, you hear the gasp of inhale come out of scaramouche.

scaramouche has always felt like shielding himself from his feelings would compensate for the flood within him, but how can a person who is so humanly sensitive and constantly overflowing with emotions hold back for so long?

"thank you,” he whispers, and just like that he lets the tears fall.

his words are so simple and gentle. the state of his fragility in this moment is comparable to that of a wilting flower and you can't help but embrace him with all that you have.

it’s then that scaramouche, a meager vessel made to hold the gnosis of the almighty shogun, finally comes to the conclusion that he isn't as heartless as he thinks.

there are no words spoken between the two of you, just the sounds of fireworks crackling and chorus of crickets whistling through the night. and the moon that shines from above witnesses it all.

2K notes · View notes

starstruckkittensweets · 7 months

Text

"Promise Me" | Gojo x Reader

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Words: 2.3k

A/N: no one talk to me, this is my way of coping with the latest chapter. This week is not a fun one for us Gojo lovers. Also this scenario has probably been written a thousand times at this point (thanks a lot Gege) but here's my two cents on the matter (go figure, my first official Gojo post and he's fuckin dead)

Warnings: JJK 236 SPOILERS, mentions of fem!reader, nightmares, brief mentions of violence/gore, pet names (baby, sweets, pretty girl), very self-indulgent and I apologize for that

Nightmares are a common occurrence in your line of work; you knew that even before you agreed to take the job. Usually you can stand them when they hit. Staring into the shadows of your bedroom, wide eyes raking over every little thing inside, too scared to even move a muscle. Knowing that, once you do, the illusion will vanish. The fear will go away, bit by bit, until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Till the next morning, when you can’t even remember what you were so afraid of.

But this time is different. Your body isn’t frozen at all; you don’t snuggle deeper into the blankets, praying that they’ll be enough to protect you from whatever creatures lurk in the night. In fact they’re suffocating—but even when you throw them off you’re still heaving like a madman. Cold sweat clamming up your skin. Hands trembling at your sides. Eyes nearly bursting from your skull when you realize the other side of the bed is empty.

Empty, empty—where is he? Where did he go?

Was your dream not actually a dream after all?

You’re shaking so hard when you force your way out of bed. Nearly toppling over your own two feet as you stumble out of the bedroom. The door’s cracked open, but there aren’t any lights on, where is he, where the fuck is he?!

Another step, round the corner, and suddenly you smack face first into something hard. A soft oof reaches your ears, and through the darkness and the veil of your tears, you can barely make out the two blue lights glowing at you from above.

“Whoa, careful! Sorry about that, almost didn’t see you there. What’re you doing up so late, baby?”

Your eyes are still blurry, no matter how many times you blink. But you can still see him, his hair messy from sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of old sweatpants. He offers a lazy smile, but it drops almost instantly when he sees the tears spilling down your burning cheeks.

“…Hey, what’s wrong?”

Maybe it’s the tender tone of his voice, the soft way he speaks those three simple words. Or maybe it’s the fact you can see his eyes dim ever so slightly, signaling he’s turned off his technique for the moment. Or maybe it’s just knowing that he’s here, still alive and breathing and in one fucking piece, that makes you lose control. (Not that you had very much to begin with, but still.)

He visibly jolts at the shrill wail that rips from your throat, his whole body rigid as you throw yourself against his chest. Tiny arms wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his muscular back. Almost as though you’re scared he’ll disappear, anchoring him to you with every bit of strength you have.

What does he do? You’re obviously in distress, but why? He’d just left to get a glass of water, he’d been gone for less than five minutes! And now you’re blubbering like a child into his bare chest, sobbing so loudly he’s surprised none of your neighbors have come banging on your door.

“Baby, come on,” he tries, but the pet name only seems to make you cry harder. He winces before taking hold of both your shoulders. He doesn’t bother trying to pry you away; no need to make you even more upset. “You gotta tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

Damn it, everything he’s saying is just making it worse. He hates seeing you cry like this. So tiny and frail, curling into his chest, incoherent words and noises spilling from your lips. You won’t answer him or let go of his body, no matter how many times he tries to convince you.

Does he just ride it out and let you finish? What if you pass out? Will you still remember any of this by the time you wake up tomorrow? Was it something he said earlier that made you this upset? He wracks his brain, trying to see if any of his earlier teasing struck a nerve within you. He doesn’t recall saying anything that could prompt this kind of reaction out of you…

Then again, what could? You’re his girl, his other half (as he’s quick to remind you and everyone else within earshot). Strong but soft, a capable sorcerer climbing the ranks with ease. You have an unshakeable character, sticking true to your values and morals no matter what. It’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place. Not just anything could resort you to a crying, trembling mess in his arms.

He sucks in a deep breath and tries again. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I promise I’ll make it all better, I swear!”

And he’s just about to bribe you with some of the sweets he’s stashed away in the kitchen when you lift your head from his chest. Cheeks hot and tearstained, and yet you’re still so beautiful.

“S-sorry,” you barely manage to choke out. Your throat’s practically on fire, and you can already feel a monster of a headache coming on. “I…I had…”

He doesn’t say anything. He simply wipes your tears away with his thumb, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“…I had a bad dream…”

It sounds so fucking childish when you say it out loud. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut, gone back to bed once you saw he was okay. What do you expect he’ll do about it, huh? Not like he can erase your bad memories, no matter how strong he might be.

But that hole in your chest is still there, even after all that crying—

And you can’t help it anymore. You press your palms to your face, desperately trying to rid your fact of all those tears. Wanting to save at least some of your dignity before the night’s over.

A pair of warm hands close over your wrists, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pulls your hands away. Exposing your teary, blubbering face to those beautiful blue eyes. The mere thought makes you want to cry all over again.

“C’mon now, you’re too pretty to cry like that.” The corner of his mouth is quirked up in a smile, his messy hair hanging over his eyes as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. He catches another tear on his thumb, making sure to wipe it away before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t like seeing you all upset like that.”

“B-but”—oh fuck, here you go again—“you were…you were dead!”

You can still remember everything so clearly. The blood trickling from his mouth. The glazed look in those dull eyes. How fucking fast it all seemed to happen. One moment he was fine, breathing and smiling as usual, and the next he was staring up at the sky. You didn’t even hear his body drop to the ground.

So much blood, it’s not supposed to be out of your body like that, why couldn’t I save you, why couldn’t—

“I’m sorry!” you blurt out, even as he takes you in his arms and pulls you against his chest. “I wasn’t enough to save you! You were dead and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it!”

You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, but for whatever reason, talking about this seems to help. Your chest feels a bit lighter than it did before, even if your heart’s as heavy as a stone.

“You’re not supposed to die! And I know that’s stupid of me to say, everyone dies at some point, but you always say you’re the strongest! No one can hurt you, even if they tried! So why—”

Your voice catches in your throat, tears still streaming down your face. He still holds you close, one arm around your waist, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

“…Why did you leave me? You said you’d never leave me, no matter what! But you did—and I let it happen—I’m so fucking sorry, Satoru, I just—”

You’re running out of steam, you can feel it in your bones. Too exhausted to cry anymore, probably too burnt out to even walk back to your room. But before you can even try he’s lifting your face in his hands, tracing your swollen lips with his thumb.

Smirking down at you like there’s nothing wrong in the world.

“Why are you sorry, sweets? If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Sorry that dream version of me was such a cheap imitation.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Like I’d let myself get killed like that.”

“S-Satoru, I’m serious!”

“And so am I.” And you can see it in his face—the way his eyes practically burn into yours, his mouth set in a tight line, his jaw clenched even when he forces out the words. “I said I’d never leave you, right?”

You sniffle out, “Y-yeah…”

“And I meant it. So no matter how many bad dreams you might have of me,” he curls his hands around your thighs and lifts you up effortlessly, securing your body against his chest, “just know that they’re dreams. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Slowly, he begins to carry you back to your room. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying their way into his soft white hair. You’ll never get over how strong he is, how amazing he is—and how of all the people in the world, he chose to share the rest of his life with you.

Not strong enough to save himself from dying.

Your throat fills with bile at the thought, even as he settles you back down against the mattress. Back in the place where your nightmare occurred, where you saw his body and all that blood—

“Don’t leave me!”

“Baby, I wasn’t even planning on it.” Damn, this nightmare really messed with your head, huh? “I’m staying right here with you, alright?”

You won’t disappear on me again? You won’t leave me alone like you did in that dream, right?

He seems to see right through you, given the soft expressing in those dazzling blue eyes. “I promise, I won’t leave your side. Not tonight, not ever.”

It takes a few moments for the two of you to get situated in bed; Satoru ends up having to do most of the work, since your arms and legs are still trembling uncontrollably. But the second the blankets are back around you, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. Long legs tangling with yours, his breath warm against the crown of your head.

Lips soft as they press a thousand kisses to your forehead.

“I don’t know what kind of curse you dreamt of, but if I ever came across something like it one of these days…” He leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “…I’d win, hands down.”

“You’d better.” Your head’s pounding something fierce, every bone in your body screaming for some proper rest. And it starts to feel normal, being wrapped up in Satoru’s arms. “…Otherwise, I’d have to kick your ass.”

He lets out a laugh before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His long eyelashes tickle your skin, his lips sweet and warm when they finally find your own.

“I’m sure you would. Although, I’d never let that happen; I’ll make sure to win every single fight, I swear! Don’t wanna make my pretty girl worry about me.”

But you’re always going to worry about him. It’s in your blood, comes with the territory of keeping this relationship alive. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe he is strong enough to never have to worry about himself in a fight. But there’s always going to be that part of you that wonders if he’s going to make it home tonight.

You tilt your head, eager to taste his lips again. Like your life depends on it, and the thought makes him smirk.

“Aww, can’t get enough of me, sweets?”

“…Shut up.”

But he knows he’s right. And you know he’s right. Doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud, though.

“You know I meant it, right?” Suddenly he’s holding your face again, brushing his nose against your own. His voice strangely soft as he leans in close, warm breath ghosting over your face. “’M not leaving you. Never, ever, ever!”

That gets a smile out of you. Weak and pitiful, but a smile nonetheless. At least he’s earnest. At the end of the day, he means well when it comes to you.

“I know you won’t. …So thank you.” You return his hug, sneaking your hand between your bodies and pressing it against his chest. Your throat growing tight when you feel the familiar b-bmp of his heart against your trembling palm. “Thank you for staying with me.”

There’s that tiny voice in the back of your head, urging you not to listen to such pointless promises. Knowing that deep down, neither of you can stop death when it comes knocking at your door. No matter how much power he possesses, even Satoru Gojo can’t resist death’s clutches when they finally sink their claws into him.

But there’s time for you to deal with all of that in the future. Right here, right now, he’s safe and sound in your arms. Messy white hair tickling your neck as he nibbles on the skin of your earlobe. Making you giggle as he brushes the rest of your tears away.

And thanking whatever deity may be listening above that you get to spend just one more night with him, wrapped up in his arms with his lips against your own.

#not even a manga reader i just check the leaks #and when i saw them my heart literally dropped in my chest #so i offer this ficlet as a way of coping #and praying that somehow he'll come back like he always does #started as a drabble and whoops 2k words later #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk 236 #jjk 236 spoilers #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk fics

187 notes · View notes

babblingeccentric · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 2: Threesome, Zoro x Reader x Law

Contains: threesome, exhibitionism, reader described as having a "cunt", fake reluctant law, fingering, exactly 100 words

“Well? Are you gonna?” Zoro hooks your knees over his thighs, showing off your dripping center as you moan.

Law stands still and silent on the other side of the mats.

Zoro spreads your lower lips with his fat fingers, your slick glistening in the low emergency lighting of the submarine. You squirm and the tip of Zoro’s finger slips into you revealing a glimpse of the sweet pink inside of your cunt and Law can’t take it anymore.

“If this has annoying consequences you’re dealing with it.” He grumbles as he kneels and slips two long tattooed fingers inside

Read about my kinktober prompts and rules for suggesting pairings here

144 notes · View notes

amvro · 4 months

Text

pairing: amuro tooru x reader

summary: he is home late (again) but you love to stay up for him

cw: i would not say suggestive but a lot of kissing implied ? IDK IM SORRY, it’s very short

It wasn’t rare for you to be staying up waiting for him to come home, but tonight he was especially late coming home and he truly did not expect you to still be up. The clock almost ticked 3:30am and he truly wished he didn’t have to stay out so late if he knew you would still be up. He was going to ask why you were still up and tell you about how you should’ve just slept without him, but he knew you would tell him you would be too worried to fall asleep regardless.

“I’m so sorry I was so late,” he said, apologetically. “But really, next time you shouldn’t mind me. It’s far too late.”

“And it’s far too late for you to be out with no one to greet you when you come home,” you replied with a soft smile. Gosh he was in love with you. “Waiting for you to come home is one of my happiest times, at least let me do this much. Besides, it’s a Friday we get to sleep in tomorrow.”

And you were absolutely correct. Although he’d tell you every single time to go ahead and sleep, it still warmed his heart when he saw you reading a book or scrolling through your phone with a warm tea, waiting for him to come home. The way your face would brighten up when he came home was truly the only thing that could heal him from a long day at work.

“I’ll hop in the shower real quick, so go to sleep okay? It’s still not good to be up this late,” he said as he took off his coat and put his stuff down, getting ready to step into the bathroom.

“Wait,” you said, almost subconsciously.

“What is it, love?”

“Oh, um,” you said, you hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You looked up at him slightly embarrassed. “....kiss?”

A faint blush covered his face as his eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He did not understand how you managed to make his heart flutter from such simple words after all this time, but he did understand that this wasn’t going to go away. He walked right back to you and pressed a kiss on your lips. He was going to kiss you again when he resisted the temptation and kissed you on your forehead instead.

“Why not?” you asked quietly. You were going to kill him if you kept this up.

“Because I’m not going to be able to stop at this rate,” he said, but you went and kissed him instead.

“But I don’t want you to...” you said. That was it, he was giving in. Saving the country was a whole lot easier of a challenge than the ones you gave him it seemed.

“Okay, now you’ve done it,” he said, kissing you again.

The shower will have to wait a little.

#furuya rei x reader #amuro tooru x reader #amuro x reader #furuya rei #amuro tōru #amuro tooru #detective conan x reader #NOTTTTT PROOFREAD #i sat down at like 2am and dumped whatever words would come out of me #so truly if i wake up and this is literally the most horrid thing ive written in my life please forgive me #um i am BACK !!!!#ALSO I SEE THE ASKS I PROMISE I WILL GET TO THEM #THEY ARE COMIGN #I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THEM ACTUALLY #I HOPE TO FINISH ALL OF THEM WHILE IM IN WINTER BREAK SO HOPEFULLY WITHIN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS THEY WILL BE WRITTEN #THANK U SO SO MUCH FOR READING I HOPE U ENJOYED #im sorry this is so short so consider it a drabble i was going to make it a blurb but it is past blurb length i fear

118 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 3 months

Text

ok and if i wrote harmless in a different font. so what

#the first part is 1.6k words long #and i am looking for supernatural slash paranormal ideas to use in here for future parts. so if u guys wanna. yk.#make it a community project like harmless was <3333 that'd be lovely and fun <3333 #but im waiting to write a couple of parts b4 publishing this one #bc of health reasons #anyway in unrelated news #i have another drabble series coming out on saturday #a letters series where bucky is Shit At Talking so he just writes letters to his bestie who he's in love with bc his therapist told him to #it's a drabble series #and also if u wanna send in word prompts for that. that would be very helpful and i will worship you #anyway im done talking #ari talks #bucky x reader

60 notes · View notes

lavandula-ipsum · 5 months

Text

let me spoil you - smutsgiving challenge

I cheated all the rules and brought a sneak peak of a WIP to the smutsgiving. Enjoy <3

Pairing: dark!Luke Skywalker x rebel!Reader (not really that relevant, we're going straight in for the fun

Wordcount: 609

CW: shameless smut. Minors DNI

***

Hell, she can’t remember the last time she thought of herself as a good person, back when she was so eager to struggle for reasons she can’t even remember anymore. Acting in hopes of making her dead master proud, like he could see her, feel foolish now. However, there’s one thing she misses from her past righteous little self, and that’s knowing how to fight. Yeah, perhaps she was too hard on herself back then. Maybe she was good. However, that illusion fades as she voices this one command.

"Put your hands against the wall.”

It isn’t wise and she hates herself for it. However, her common sense has been taken captive by the lovely confusion blooming on Luke’s face. “You can either do it or wait for me to change my mind."

That candid expression she’d missed so much in him dissolves into a bratty smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

She doesn’t appreciate the attitude, not when she’s this angry. There’s a second when he’s with his back turned to her, handcuffed wrists against the wall of the cell, that she considers listening to reason and leaving. Instead, the challenge becomes appetizing. Afraid to let her doubt be read, she steps closer. Luke inhales sharply as she reaches around and, carefully at first, palms over his trousers. She quickly finds what she’s come looking for.

“Is this your usual reaction whenever you come chasing after me? No wonder you put so much effort in hunting me down.”

Luke shudders when she presses on his erection more boldly this time, a reaction that betrays a prolonged aching. Exactly what she needs to hastily undo the fastenings, eager to make most of the little time they might have for this. The rebel gives a generous lick to her palm before sliding it into his pants, while her other hand tugs down on the waistband of his underwear before digging her fingers in his hip. She rubs wet circles around the sensitive head of his cock, already painfully swollen and pink, and takes delight in the soft whimper she gets in response to her slightly aggressive and sudden attentions. But she decides to be merciful and softens the touch with the first stroke down the full length. She intends for this to be quick but she still wants to enjoy it a little.

“Here I come to talk business while your thoughts drift somewhere else entirely,” she teases. Luke hums something that’s meant to sound like an apology. “Don’t worry about it, I got you. Next time, just ask.”

While he leans against the wall, he can get a good view of everything she’s doing. It’s only fair, since she loves to watch his enthralled face progressively let go of that initial put together facade he exhibited at first, the red deepening across his cheeks and his eyes brimming with filthy pleas, like he doesn’t believe this is happening to him.

Suddenly, a gloved hand grabs her collar and brings her up, her back hitting the wall. Before she can protest her lips meet his, needy and warm and sloppy, as his palms cup her cheeks, one burning hot and the other cool.

“Please, love. Faster,” Luke begs through the tiny gap he allows. The rebel melts at the sight of need painted in his glossy eyes, at being held so sweetly after so long, and realizes that she can’t get angry at him.

“That’s it. Ask me anything,” as she happily complies, her hand dancing with soft movements of his hips, a low moan forms from the back of his throat. “I can’t get enough of your pretty face when you do.”

#smutsgiving #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker smut #star wars fanfiction #drabble #yeah i know this is over 100 words come fight me #dark luke skywalker #sith luke skywalker #shameless smut #wip #enemies AND lovers

60 notes · View notes

moonlightdistractions · 1 year

Text

Picture this: 15 year old Sammy sitting on a rickety deck in too-short cut offs, swinging his legs and splashing at the water with a soft smile on his lips. Skinny but with skindeep muscles. Shaggy hair wet, slicked back but falling onto his forehead shyly. He tips back his head, sighs as the sun's warmth kisses his face. He's unaware of his brother watching him from his perch on a shoreline rock, a slight frown on his full lips. Dean is struck with an unfamiliar feeling, his eyes squinting at fresh sharp angles - he's jealous of the sun.

#drabble #wincest #or the early stirrings thereof #my words #pretty teen Sam and his big brother who's coming to realizations #wish i could draw cause i want to draw this scene #weecest #just realized i actually already posted this drabble 2 years ago... so im repeating myself!#but i really like this visual so why not #100 words

184 notes · View notes

sodascollection · 19 days

Text

Jouno hated Tecchou. From the first time they had met.

That was it. That’s all there was. Hate mixed with a deep enamoration from the latter.

He was surpringly easy to hate as well. from his insufferable food combinations to his borderline idiotic habits, like staring at Jouno for example. Jouno absolutely loathed the way he could feel Tecchous curious stare follow his hands, or the sway of his cape, or any number of other assorted things his idiotic eyes might’ve gotten fixated on.

Jouno had no reason to be stared at, sure he had plenty to be perceived and even to be feared by criminals. If anything he made his personality fairly obvious and justifiable to stay away from, he gleefully provided plenty of reasons. But none to justifiably recieve a gaze so soft and curious as tecchous.

It burned him a little more each and every time he felt the familiar gaze crawling on his skin.

Jouno hated Tecchou.

Tecchou did not hate Jouno in return.

Jouno never understood why.

Tecchou already knew quite a bit about him, from his background to the meeting that allowed Jouno into the Hunting Dogs. Mostly things shared over drinks that Tecchou never seemed to forget.

All he provided could be used in very effective case against Jouno, and yet all he was ever met with were the feelings of lingering stares as his cape billowed about, or while small white starnds of hair brushed against his cheek in the wind.

He never understood it, perhaps he never would. Annoying..

For now he was content with hating Tecchou for as long as it took for him to hate him back.

#yeahhhhh apologies if he’s a little pathetic in this one ik my characterization is off #he’s suuuper defensive I hope that comes across well in here :3 #For what it’s worth I don’t believe Jouno really hate-hates tecchou #I honestly see it as a strange defense mechanism #Whic could be for several reasons. My favorite and personal Interpretation which was put into words for me by @/aliciwig that jouno hates #Tecchou bc tecchou represents justice and sees kindness and justice in jouno #Of which jouno does not see in himself #Hence my interpretation as a strange defense mechanism #Idk it makes more sense than I can put into words #bsd jouno #jouno saigiku #tecchou suehiro #bsd tecchou #suegiku #bsd saigiku #saihiro #tetchō suehiro #bsd tetchou #tetchou suehiro #jouno x tetchou #saigiku jōno #saigiku jouno #bungou stray dogs #bsd fic #bsd fanfic #fanfic #soda drabbles

21 notes · View notes

keeponquinning · 1 year

Note

JQ thots you say? I think he’s very vocal, not just the moans and whimpers but he’s the king of dirty talk

With that voice of his? Absolutely. I know there's a dirty man there. 18+ RPF AND SMUT, MINORS BE GONE.

When his eyes sparkle with mischief, smile stretching so wide because he's thinking of what he wants to do to you. This man british, he'd do a whole ass soliloquy about how sweet you taste on his tongue, how good you feel on his cock. And he sounds so good doing it, with that voice? so rich and deep, like the chocolate color of his eyes, it makes you MELT. you're moaning and squirming, because his cock is filling you so deep and your body can't help but move against him, we know this man is big, we know he is. worried it would be too much for you, but you love a challenge. he's groaning, looking at you in awe, knowing it's already too much but you're so eager, trying to take more of him.

"god, look at you.... just....being such a good girl for me, aren't you darling? my good girl, and only mine... no, no, you don't even think of anyone's cock but mine, do you? wouldn't dare... i don't think of anyone's sweet cunt but yours...fuck...so tight, wet, and so...fucking...perfect..." he chuckles, "oh, you like it when i praise your cunt, don't you, sweetheart? mmhm...oh, i could feel her clenching, squeezing my cock... oh, fuck...god, sucking me in...mmm. giving it to you harder....oh, yes... oh you love that, don't you? you make the prettiest sounds...oh god i think about those sounds when i'm away from you....rock hard in seconds...you're so good and wet, love...jesus fucking...you're so good, so fucking....do you know what you do to me? how much i just want to be inside you? just have you sit on my cock, feel you? when others are around, I want... I have this....fucking...insane....primal instinct to bend you over and just....just fucking take you right in front of them..." he laughs, nodding his head, kissing and biting your neck. "God, yes... you turn me into a fucking caveman, wanting to fuck what is mine... Let everyone see.... see how well I fuck you. how i own you... how only you can take my cock like this... only you...only...fucking you..."

his voice eventually gives out, the harder he fucks you against the bed, and all he can do is moan, whimper, your cries mixing with his and he grasps your hands and pin it above your head, driving his hips harder and harder, like a crazed animal.

a king worshipping his queen.

#— words come drabbles #joseph quinn — thirst tweets #joseph quinn smut

195 notes · View notes

the-archpriest-and-the-outcast · 6 months

Text

Until They Are Forgotten

He never quite knows where he will wind up wandering when he casts himself out into the Warp. Instead of merely listening to the melody, he allows himself to become one with it. To feel the thrum beat within the fiber of his being. To hear the choirs of endless voices cry and scream, blending into song.

This time, an odd note of melancholy is what drives him onward and in. Something has been gently needling at his conscious mind, and so he has gone out to investigate what it may be. Such journeys could take minutes, hours, days, years, or longer. He never knows and has not cared.

Following the note, sustained and faint like one held too long upon a violin, he finds himself reaching his destination. Within the realm of thoughts and dreams, he feels dust and ash coating his feet. He tastes the dry, acrid air. Smells the smoke, thick and billowing, filling his chest.

But what he sees is not the desolation he feels. No, he sees thousands of souls, all gathered, weeping, pleading, roaring...

An endless tide of them. As far as he could possibly perceive. Thousands. Millions.

He recognizes them. He knows them. He remembers weeping for them. The pain in his chest that refused to leave him for weeks. The same pain that twisted and coiled and almost turned to indifference. He feels the ash between his fingers. Feels the grip of cloth, the struggles of a feeble man, speaking what he thought to be heresy, and what he now understood as a form of the Truth.

He looks at the sea of souls. He listens. He hears their melodious suffering, how it blends with the background hum of the universe itself. He reaches out to them all with hands made of radiant gold, and feels as they reach back. He feels the small hands of children, grasping at his long fingers; the rough, firm hands of honest workers; the delicate hands of artisans and writers; the grasp of those feeble in body, yet strong in mind and will; how some grip his hand as though desperate for something to cling to, and others as though they are greeting an old friend.

He sees them. Sees their eyes, their minds, their hearts. Sees them as they once were, and now are. Sees the fear. Desperation. Conviction. Anger. Grief. Friends, families, lovers, all still together despite how time-ravaged they all are. Some barely remember what they were. Others remember well.

He listens. Hears the tales parents once told children. The jokes once passed between friends. The arguments once held between lovers. The jabs between rivals and enemies. The mundane hum of existence, maintained in this one space.

This space could be anywhere, he knows. This place could be a chasm, a palace, a city square, a forest, a field. It matters not. All that matters is that all of them are here.

His eyes close. He tightens his grip on their hands. He allows himself to remember the bone-deep ache that pursued him from this moment onward. He allows himself to remember the anger that burned in him so brightly before it smoldered. He allows himself to remember the act that set him down this path. A quiver of the lip. The feeling of dry ash coating and covering beautiful golden skin, revealed by thin tracks that glistened in the low candlelight. Skin that earned him his name.

Aurelian.

He hears it now, being whispered through the gathered souls. He hears all his titles, murmured with reverence or spat with hatred.

He feels their grips all tighten with his own. Something builds within all of them. It is an overwhelming tide of emotion. It is sorrow. It is grief. It is pain. It is fear.

And strangest of all, it is understanding. His time here is impermanent, as is theirs. Soon he will leave, and they will dissipate. They will become one with the endless song, and he will find a note to untangle anew.

Some are scared. Some are too weary to feel fear, and simply wish to move on once more.

His eyes open. The gathering before him flickers between packs of formless and nameless daemons, and the forms of the humans they once embodied. He sees their souls. He sees who they once were. Sees their hunger. Their pain. None see the Neverborn quite as he does. None take the time to have these moments with them, for them to remember who they were, and for them to remind the pilgrim that he, too, was human once.

Slowly, he uncurls his hands from the crowd. The scent of ash, the feeling of smoke, the view of the gathering all begins to fade. Back into the melody they vanish. He remembers the eyes that stare at him mere moments before they are swept along. Remembers the feel of the smaller hands that tried to hold on for just a few moments longer. The whispers and pleas to just remember them.

And, as swiftly as he found this place, he leaves. A single tear trails from him, falling, forming itself into a wisp that fades after a few fickle moments of existence.

He returns to his confines upon a world of madness and horror. Within a chamber, with walls covered in a language never meant to be uttered by physical beings, he sits. He folds his legs. Feels the cloth against his gilded, tattooed skin. Reaches for a stylus and ink with only one pair of hands. And for the briefest of moments, he sees eyes that he had not stared into in millennia reflected back in that dark pool of ink.

With a shuddering breath, he reaches for paper, and begins to write. Allows his emotions, his thoughts, his memories to flow onto the pages. He sits like this for hours. For days. For weeks. He writes names. Writes what he felt. Writes what he saw. He writes and writes and writes.

When his hands finally still, pages fill the room. He feels the tenseness and soreness that should not be there. He feels all the physical limitations he swore he had shed long ago. As he stands, it all falls away. The facade of anything human flees, leaving behind a strange little god-thing. A perfect representation of Chaos Undivided, wrapped in the gold of its most powerful enemy.

But deep within its chest, there is the dullest of aches. A promise. A reminder. Remember why you are here. Why you quest so hard for the Truth. Why you stare into the abyss and have become one with it. Remember the blood, the tears, the suffering that formed each step to this pathway. Remember the sorrow. The stares.

The pages are organized and compiled with naught but an idle thought into loose bound tomes and journals to be studied later. He feels the tug again. There is a note out of alignment, and it demands his attention.

He wonders where the song will take him this time.

#lorgar aurelian #warhammer 40k #word bearers #this is just a drabble thing not an rp thing #so feel free to reblog if you like #i know its cliche to write about lorgar and monarchia #however i had a writing bug and i decided to just see where it led me #sorry if this is kinda hard to follow #this is definitely supposed to come across as barely coherent cause this is kinda how i think his mind is working at this point #my intention was to keep it feeling loose and lucid #i wanted to show what i think this is part of his meditations #its strange and formless and is never quite clear cut on why hes experiencing what he experiences #this was also partially inspired by Auf dem Hügel by Subway to Sally #very much recommend

31 notes · View notes