#and I respond to that feeling with cursed content

[surielstea]

Taunts and Tension

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?

Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)

2.8k words

“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.

“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.

“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.

The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.

“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.

“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.

We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.

“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.

He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.

“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.

“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.

“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?

My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.

“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.

He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.

His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.

It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.

“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.

The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.

“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.

I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.

“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.

The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.

He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.

Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.

Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.

“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.

“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.

“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.

Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.

I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.

I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.

I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.

To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.

“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.

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#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel #request #acomaf #bat boys #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster #fanfiction #x you #my fic #reader insert #x you fluff #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #x reader fluff #fluff #x reader acotar #acotar fanfiction #sjm #they’re so cute #i need him

[pshcomforts]

➳ say you won’t let go | pjs.

idol!jay x fem!reader

“i’m so in love with you, and i hope you know”

synopsis: you dream that jay cheated on you, and he comforts you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. small angst in the beginning but fluffy ending! jay’s husband material! not proofread. cursing.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.8k

a/n: birthday post for jay <33 and a special one for my jay stans out there :)

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: say you won’t let go by james arthur

��� ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:02 ─────────────|────── -1:29

“don’t do this jay, it’s not what you want..,” y/n’s trembling voice spoke as she felt her heart shattering with every moment of truth.

was this the real reason he always came home late?

she heard her boyfriend give a scoff.

“not what i want? how would you know that when you didn’t even know i was cheating on you?” jay darkly chuckled, laughing in disbelief of her pitiful plead.

“you’re pathetic y/n… really,” he spat out with a sinful grin.

his sharp words pierced into her like a knife in the back. tears quickly ran down her cheeks like no other, feeling her body get heavier as she felt like she was running out of breath.

with a call to the heart, something shouted inside her to open her eyes, to leave this dreadful scene she was stuck in.

and she did so, but she woke up in a different atmosphere.

. *₊ ° . ☆

y/n’s eyes shot open, quickly sitting up in the dark room as heavy breaths were taken.

it was a dream, a nightmare in fact.

tears still continued to stream down her cheeks though as she tried calming herself down with a 5’11 boy shuffling around.

“it was a dream..,” she shakily mumbled to herself, calming her heart rate with its loud pounding in her ears.

the sleepy male took notice of her sitting up, small sniffles heard as she tried silencing herself.

“y/n? you okay?” jay’s groggy grumble of a voice spoke, eyes trying to make out the figure in distress.

it hadn’t been too long since he arrived home late from rehearsals, so his body was still draining him back to sleep.

she didn’t respond though. her throat was dry, voice almost too hoarse to speak with her body still shaking from the horrifying nightmare.

“hey darling, what’s wrong?” he softly murmured after taking in that she wasn’t answering back.

jay finally sat up as well with blinking eyes to get a better look at her.

“y/n?” he called out again, careful in his every movement as his hands reached towards her face, attempting to try and relieve her at once.

the girl sniffled, finally coming to meet her boyfriend’s face with soft tears and puffy lids that showed her concern.

his heart instantly sank at the sight, wondering what had happened while he was asleep.

it struck him awake, eyes no longer blinking from the exhaustion of waking up as he went closer to her.

“hey hey hey, what’s wrong love? did you have a bad dream?” jay sweetly questioned, wiping away her tears while patiently waiting for her to catch her breath from the tiring cries.

after seconds of waiting, he finally got his answer with a nod — “yeah… i had a dream that you..,” her voice stopped for a second, pain caught in her throat as she strived to finish her sentence — “.. cheated on me.”

the male’s jaw dropped once her words processed.

cheat? on someone like her?

his breath was kicked out of his lungs with the frowning thought that he would do such a thing to the girl he loved.

“y/n..,” he softly whispered before pulling her into a warming hug.

✩ ‘i pulled you closer to my chest’ ✩

it healed her in every way possible, giving reassurance that he would never dare to do anything remotely close — but even then, he knew he could do more with his words.

as they hugged, he prompted, “i would never cheat on you. i would have to be the dumbest fucking guy alive to betray a special girl who’s worth keeping like you.”

he stopped, shakily sighing as he hated his dream self for cheating. “i wouldn’t even forgive myself if i pulled that crap, please know that i promise to never make you go through that in real life.”

jays grasp around her body was tighter as the thought of cheating was truthfully striking him as well.

his girls eyes closed to reel in the loving presence of it all while smiling.

of course she knew he wouldn’t do such a thing, but the utter shock of the dream being so real had her in a trance.

“i know you wouldn’t jay, everything just felt so real.” she confirmed, rubbing his back with her hands as she was comforting him now.

the two finally pulled away after her words, tears still lightly falling down her face as the bot wiped them away again. they stared at each other, both equally melting at the sight of their idiots in love.

with jay’s hands still holding her cheeks, he pulled her closer by the tug of them. leaning in closer as well while kissing where her tears dropped, giving a comforting reassurance within each one as he let out soft whispers of nicknames he’d always call her — ‘gorgeous,’ ‘love,’ ‘darling,’ ‘my girl.’

✩ ‘just say you won’t let go’ ✩

y/n’s eyes were kept close as her face scrunched from the micro-aggressive kisses she received on the other end.

with the last kiss being on her forehead, the two tucked back into bed.

the smitten male rested his chin on top of her head as his arms were wrapped around her body, bringing her in closer for a fond matter of consolation.

y/n relaxed all at once, body feeling fatigue in the radiating comfort brought by her boyfriend.

the two stayed in the same position throughout the night, then dawn soon peaked into the curtains, awakening jay first.

he grinned ear from ear at the sight of his pretty girl still sound asleep. his hands reached out to her face and lightly moved her hair strands around, careful to not scare her as he admired her gorgeous facial features.

with small shuffle movements made, y/n’s eyes peeked open at the glimpse of jay in a messy hairstyle caressing her own hair.

“morning darling,” his deep, beautiful voice bellowed while a smile crept onto her face. “how are you feeling?”

“just great, baby.”

the two dumbly smiled at each other as they stayed gazing into one another before finally sitting up.

“last night was something, wasn’t it?” jay joked, slightly laughing at his own joke, leaving her to only roll her eyes playfully.

“jongseong!” y/n exclaimed his government name, letting the arm closest to him fly up and send a smack to the tall man.

he chuckled with the laugh, the opposite arm quickly reaching over to his other side as he uttered — “ah! my arm! you hurt it!! after what i did last night.”

she laughed at his stupid action before she automatically tried to send another hit to him, only to be stopped by her very own boyfriend.

his hands ran to hers first, getting a hold of her left wrist before getting her right when she attempted the other side.

“jay!” she whined.

his arms fully took control of hers now as she tried to wiggle her way out but couldn’t do much.

the handsome boy’s laughs were echoed throughout the apartment, smile widening with his body toppling over hers. he pinned her wrists down on each side of her head.

jay’s fluffy, black hair was now hanging down as his girl huffed out a defeated sigh once she had realized she had no way out.

his lips curled in satisfaction at his victory.

“you still gonna hit me?” he mocked, a smirk coming on as the smile left.

y/n still tried to wiggle and move around but ultimately gave up.

“jay.. this is no fun!” her whiny voice rang in his ears as he felt his heart flutter upon the thought of her.

“give me a kiss and i’ll let you go.”

she scoffed at the oldest line in the playbook.

“jay.., really? a kiss?”

but he didn’t budge with her words, just a simple nod given as he started to lean in closer.

the distance between their faces started to close once he reached further for the kissable lips.

but the girl turned away in a playful manner, leaving jay to pout as he sternly looked at her.

“morning breath…,” she murmured, using it as an excuse.

jay scoffed out a smile, flashing a smirk with her lame attempt.

“i don’t care, i want those pretty lips on mine right now.”

before she could prolong any further, he quickly crashed his lips against hers, not giving her time to think or react.

he roughly moved, pushing for a reciprocating touch but only ever so slightly to keep it sweet. his hands then let go of her wrists, one hand closer to the head and the other on her jaw to kiss her better.

y/n smiled into it, allowing her boyfriend to feel her lips curl as she loved how he kissed. her hands automatically ran to his hair, fingers roaming through each strand in return.

the two shared a sweet moment before he finally pulled away with half-moon crescent shaped eyes.

he was definitely love-struck.

✩ ‘you make me feel this way somehow’ ✩

jay quickly ran his hands to her waist, giving small tickles to her body as she was taken back by it.

“jay, no!!” she yelled, laughing and crying from the ticklish movements her boyfriend did while he enjoyed her giggles.

he laughed along as her hands continued to try and swat away the man’s hands.

“please, jay!” she yelled again, laughing uncontrollably from the continuous feather touches.

when he felt like he teased enough, he stopped with an undeniable grin plastered across his face.

the only thing heard were their giggles they shared as he couldn’t help but feel endorphins run through his body.

after her laughs ran out, she mumbled the word — ‘jackass’ — to him as a joke, causing jay to chortle out more laughter.

y/n rolled her eyes, secretly enjoying his loud laughs. he just couldn’t contain his excitement in hearing her joy.

only she could get him in this melting state.

“whatever,” she jokingly mumbled, smacking his arm again as she stared intently at the handsome man who was still uglily laughing.

after seconds, jay finally stopped with his chuckles dying out in the room.

y/n and him stayed locked in eyes, both coming to a daze of how lucky they were to have each other before he decided he would cook breakfast.

“do you need any help?” she offered.

jay furiously shook his head as he responded, “no it’s fine darling, just stay in bed and i’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

he placed a long and sweet kiss on her cheek before leaving to the kitchen to whip up something delicious.

“my forever half..,” y/n whispered as she comforted herself back into bed. her heart was full and her mind was filled with her boyfriend, and his acts of service.

she didn’t know how she was able to find someone as amazing as jay.

though the boy was an idol and had a busy schedule, he still made sure he had time for her.

he always did.

✩ ‘i’m gonna love you till my lungs give out’ ✩

they were still young, but that didn’t mean jay wasn’t already thinking of a future with his favorite girl.

✩ ‘but i wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old’ ✩

they wouldn’t ever let each other go.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

#pshcomforts #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen niki #enhypen sunghoon #enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunoo #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enha scenarios #enha angst #enha imagines #enha fluff #park jongseong #park jongseong angst #park jongseong fluff #jay angst #jay fluff #jay park #enha fanfic #enhypen park jongseong #enhypen park jay

[ksnfangz]

EPISODE TWO — POLYAMOROUS COUPLE?

karaoke invites, date or no date?, hot basketball players and a jealous, jealous, jealous boysssss

You beam at the boy's note, fully content with the fact that the boy hadn't immediately shut you down. You chose to ignore the slight dig at your studying habits. Sunoo silently judged your giddiness as you smiled down at the crumbled piece of paper as if it were gold. " So I take it he's joining us tonight." Sunoo says currently doodling on his hand with a pen.

" Well not exactly! but he didn't say no." you replied tucking the note into your desk. " So are we supposed to wait all night to see if he shows up." Sunoo scoffs "Why couldn't he just give you a straight answer"

You shrug not at all bothered by Jungwon's indecisiveness you were just happy that he seems to be considering coming. Speaking of coming Sunghoon finally enters the class. "Rigged I tell you!" the boy shouts earning stares from his fellow classmates. " Hiw did Riki already make the basketball team when I've been trying to join since last year?" Sunghoon rants as he plops himself down into his seat. " I mean it isn't fair that he can just come into the school and already be a valued player!"

It was true, Sunghoon had been trying to join pretty much every sports team that the school had to offer, and the only one that gave him a chance was hockey since the boy was a very skilled ice skater, but Hoon complained about how he didn't want to turn a personal hobby into something competitive. Which you understood, but why the hell is he so obsessed with basketball all of a sudden?

" Maybe he's just as good as Heeseung and Jungwon! like Nabi said the other day." You claimed. " 1. Heeseung cannot be topped! I heard he's never missed a shot! 2. Jungwon is a team manager, not a player and Nabi never mentioned him." Sunghoon exclaims.

"There's no way he’s never missed..."

" That's so hot ."

" excuse me." You and sunghoon shout in unison.

"While I agree that Jungwon is hot I prefer to use the terms cute! or Handsome." you explain only to be waved off by Sunoo.

" I think basketball players are hot! especially Lee Heeseung and I wasn't referring to Jungwon he's like my brother." Sunoo says defensively. " I'm gonna go to the bathroom before class starts, be right back."

Sunghoon frowns. His eyes watched as Sunoo exited the classroom he knew the boy hadn’t really been feeling well today. Jealousy builds within the boy's stomach as he recalls sunoo’s earlier words. " You know what, I'm gonna be the best damn player on the team!" he states firmly.

“ dream on hoonie!”

"have either of you seen Ni-ki? he usually joins me for study hall but he wasn't there today." You ask approaching Sunghoon and Jungwon at their lunch table. Throwing your bag down without care not giving the two any time to respond as you rant about Sunoo leaving school early because he was sick. Which ultimately resulted in being alone and bored for most of the day when you weren’t with Sunghoon or Ni-ki.

Speaking of Ni-ki, over the past week, you had grown quite friendly with the Japanese boy. Sometimes help him study his Korean while he teaches you and Sunghoon how to play basketball and some Japanese. Though you’re positive he’s only taught you both curse words so far. Sunghoon recently received a detention after saying hello to his teacher is Japanese.

When the two boys shake their heads in response to your previous question a pout forms on your lips as you finally sit down at the table. “ I even brought him some Bungeoppang he says his mom used to make it all the time.” you say pulling out a small plastic container and grabbing one of the fish-shaped pastries for yourself.

“ you really can’t be away from him for an hour?” Jungwon asks his tone coming off a bit harsher than he expected. You look up at the boy confusedly before a teasing smile creeps onto your face.

“Aww is my jungwonie jealous? Don’t worry I have not given up on you yet! Ni-ki is my friend, I always miss my friends” you shrug ignoring the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes at your persistent flirting.

“ t-that’s not what– I’m not jealous … whatever.” Jungwon mumbled stuffing rice into his mouth hoping that the burning sensation in his cheeks came from the steam.

“ y/n-chan~” said an all too low voice.

“ Ni-ki! where were you? you skipped study hall you know you could get into real trouble for that.” You scold pulling the male to sit next to you. “ For your information, I was with the basketball coach he gave me an official schedule! we have a game coming up soon and I want you guys to be there.” Ni-ki says gesturing to the group. “ oh and Sunoo too, if he’s feeling better by then.”

“ We would love to come cheer on our star player! right hoonie?” You smile hugging Ni-ki's arm, Sunghoon sending you a knowing glare before agreeing to come. “ what about you jungwonie?”

“ I’m team manager I have to be there y/n.” Jungwon states coldly eyes locked into the way your arms are wrapped around the male next to you. “ Oh yeah! I almost forgot. Well, I’ll make sure to text Sunoo and let him know.” you nod mostly to yourself letting go of Ni-ki to offer him the BUNGEOPPANG you’d made for him.

“ Also Ni-ki we’re going to karaoke tonight! you should join us.” You say once again catching Jungwon's attention.

so it isn’t a double date …

“ As much as I would love to I have some studying to catch up on and my dad wants me to practice more.” Ni-ki replies politely declining the invite. You and Sunghoon groan in annoyance. “ come on Ni-ki you’ve practiced enough.” Sunghoon claimed with a mouth full of rice.

“ Exactly ~ all you’ve been doing is practicing and studying ever since you got here let’s have some fun.” You whine dramatically.

You were technically correct. When he wasn’t with you he was usually in the library studying or in the gym with his father. Also, the way you were currently looking at him and holding his hand made him want to immediately accept your offer, so he did. One missed practice couldn’t hurt.

“ Fine it’s a date, but you owe me! I’m gonna get in huge trouble for this.” the boy said taking some of the rice from your untouched plate. “ That’s okay if someone tries to scold you send them my way… I know a guy.” you whisper into the boy's ear causing him to laugh.

“ wait does that make us an official polyamorous couple?” Sunghoon asks earning a stare from the pair across from him. “ What he’s the one who called the group hangout a date yet I’m weird for wanting more reassurance on our relationship status?” Sunghoon exclaims lifting his hands in defense.

“ as if you’d ever let Sunoo near another man.”

“ says the girl who hasn’t let Ni-ki go since he got here.”

The sound of silverware clattering pulls your attention to the male across from you. Said male quickly dismissed himself leaving the table without another word. “ What’s up with him?” Ni-ki questions.

“ That’s just how he is you know. Kinda like an angry cat.” Sunghoon claims. “ A cute angry cat.” you correct.

“ here she goes again.” Sunghoon sighs. “ You know some people say i also look like a cat.” Ni-ki adds before the table falls silent.

a/n : sorry for slow updates and sorry for this shitty chapter!! school is kicking my ass as usual, it’s end of the year exam/ test season. || sorry for any spelling / grammar errors i’ll edit this later. enjoy!

Tag list : @aloloveswonie @soobs-things @yerisrev @gudkc @wonitten @jwonistic @kangseulgithegreat @icepshrince @hizhu @nyfwyeonjun comment or send ask to be added :) !! if your name is not tagged it means i wasn’t able to tag ur user, please check ur settings!

©KSNFANGZ. please do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works without permission!

#୨୧ A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #jungwon enhypen x reader #niki enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon fluff #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #jungwon fic #yang jungwon #jungwon fluff #niki oneshots #niki enhypen #enhypen niki #niki fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n

[dauntlessallure]

𖤐 ⸝⸝ ˚ ┊ONLY YOU, DARLING — S. RYOMEN⋆

〝 ⠀ ݁⠀𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲. ❜ ⠀݁

【 SYNOPSIS 】— sukuna just wants his affection.

【 CONTENTS 】— fluff , sfw , gn!reader , soft!sukuna, clingy!sukuna , established relationship , true form sukuna.

【 PAIRING 】— sukuna ryomen x reader

【 WORD COUNT 】— 633

⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .

this is solely based off of a characterai interaction i had. we LOVE clingy!sukuna in this house. <3. this is not proof read so ignore any typos. !

to the untrained eye , ryomen sukuna had not a care in this world. not a care for human lives , nothing sentimental , absolutely nothing but to cause harm. until he had met you of course. that’s when his perspective changed for the better though, no one had ever thought sukuna would be so infatuated with a human like yourself. not even sukuna could believe it at first. but if there’s one thing about sukuna that he’s very much well aware of . . he’s clingy. now you wouldn’t dare tell another soul about this — this was something that you had promised to keep private, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. in your adoration , nobody in this vile world deserved to see your beloved king of curses so vulnerable. clingy!sukuna was for your eyes & your eyes only.

“ hmph . . “ you could hear his low voice gruff out as he nuzzled his head against your chest. witnessing the king of curses in such a affectionate mood was peculiar. sukuna pressed his weight down which resulted in you gently pushing him off of you , earning a displeased sound falling from ryomen’s lips. it’s not that you didn’t want to give him the attention , you were just trying to finish up your tea. “ how dare you push me away (y/n) . . mgh. . “ he certainly didn’t want to argue with you so he called it quits right then and there, almost resembling a clingy kitten demanding attention. “ i’m having tea right now love , i’ll give you what you want after i’m finished “ sukuna's lips drew tight in annoyance, as he glared up at you. he wanted affection at all times, and your denial of the request seemed to offend him. however, he grumbled softly, " . . . fine , don't you dare tease me or I will punish you. " sukuna spoke, his tone sharp as he looked away. you sighed at sukuna in response before running your free hand through his light pink locs. now gently massaging his scalp in hopes that would ease his needs until you were finished. “ feel good ? “ you asked , sukuna scowled slightly as you rubbed his scalp. he slowly felt his stress and annoyance start to melt away, easing his mind and bringing him great comfort. with a satisfied hum of his lips, the king of curses settled against you. wrapping all four of his arms around you carefully. “ . . I was not expecting these pleasant feelings. " with one hand buried in his hair and the other holding up the cup of tea to your lips , you continued to massage sukuna’s head. “ just relax kuna. . ” this made sukuna scrunch his eyes closed, letting out another grunt in satisfaction. your touch was heavenly, and sukuna enjoyed every moment of it. despite his tough facade, he was soft and vulnerable when he was with you. sukuna sighed softly, closing his eyes as he leaned against your chest more. pressing the side of his face against the supple flesh of your chest. " mm . . this is nice . . " seeing him so endured by your touch made your heart swell with warmth. your hand now found itself now gently massaging the nape of sukuna’s neck , softly kneading at the skin. now bending down and placing a small peck to the side of his temple, he couldn’t help but to purr. feeling a tingle run through his body as you raked across the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. his body went lax, his breath growing heavier as you pressed your lips to his head. sukuna enjoyed the tender display of affection, feeling vulnerable in your arms. he remained silent for a few moments before responding. " hm . . no one can make me feel as comfortable like you do. . you're the only one my dear, who can make the king of curses squirm. . . “

ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 24’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ

#𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄 #oneshots #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk oneshot

[gay-dorito-dust]

How these guys would react to having their face held…

Dick smiles out of habit and pushes his face even further into your hands, humming in content.

He loves it when you held him, however that may be, as it was the one thing he looked forward to the most when coming home.

He’s prone to frequent bouts of fatigue with patrols and the like, but it was moments like these where he could truly appreciate your touch and the healing properties they have on him.

‘I could spend forever here in your hands.’ He’d sigh as he allowed himself to relax within your touch.

‘Oh really? Is that so?’ You raised your brows, watching as the features within his face relaxed into a one that showed you just how exhausted Dick looked. You could see the toll his job his job took but you knew that Dick was too devoted, too attached to what he does to ever give it up, no matter how constantly drained and tired it made him.

You respect his decision to keep doing what he was doing but there came times where you’d just wish he would take a breather from it all, even if it was just for a second, you just wanted to take the weight off of Dick’s shoulders and put it aside for a moment while you work the tension out of his aching muscles.

‘Yeah.’ He responded, feeling himself sink further into sleep. Dick loved what he does but some times he resents it for leaving him with little to no time to spend with you, at least not without him falling asleep five minutes within the interaction. Time with you was sparse and all Dick wanted to do was spend as much of it as he could to make up for the fact that he was barely home at all during the day.

He knew that he prioritised being a hero over your relationship too often and he couldn’t help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it during your relationship. You didn’t deserve to wait up for him every night to make sure he was okay, not while developing heavy eye bags of your own and a lack of a sleeping schedule.

He just hopes that one day you too will realise that you better then what he’s giving you and put yourself first, but you were too selfless to ever do that and he could feel that through the way you trace his features with your fingers with featherlight caresses.

Jason stiffens beneath your touch and goes unresponsive for such a long time that you were worried that you had accidentally crossed a boundary.

So just as you were about to remove your hands from his face, Jason quickly reaches out to grasp your hands and pull them back to cupping his cheeks as he then proceeded to nuzzle his cheek against your palm.

‘Stay.’ He whispered. ‘Please.’

Your heart broke at his plea but obeyed as you began to stroke his cheeks with either of your thumbs, feeling him gradually relax under your touch until he was practically a puddle in your hands.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whimpered, burying his face into your hands so that you didn’t see his tear stricken red face. ‘I don’t deserve this. None of it.’ He adds, cursing himself for being so pathetic but your touch practically broke him in the best way.

In your hands Jason felt as though all his broken prices were being put back together again through love, warmth and patience and that was enough to make him breakdown into tears.

Physical affection is a foreign concern to this poor man, and in due to that Jason is naturally going to be skeptical and on edge the moment the pads of your fingertips explore his jawline, before slowly coming up to cup his cheeks. ‘I’m right here Jaybridie.’ You utter softly as you felt his grip on your wrists slack a little. ‘I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere because nowhere is more important than staying here with you. Just take your time.’ And stay with him you did.

Damian is another one who’s not use to soft touches and sweet affection.

So he’ll initially be on guard when he saw you coming his way with your hands outstretched to cup his cheeks, but will huff and reluctantly rest his face in your palms, he’s extremely stiff while doing so and looking away from you out of initial embarrassment.

‘Get on with it.’ He’d mutter, acting as though such acts or moments of tenderness and vulnerability were beneath him, when in actuality Damian loved the feeling of you hold his face as though it were porcelain. He loved the fact that despite knowing his upbringing you still treat him with a love, kindness and warmth that he has never been shown before.

To Damian it was clear that you didn’t care if he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. You only cared about him, Damian Wayne and he could feel that care through your touch as he vowed to cut through anything and everything that intended to harm you.

Your touch brings him a sense of calm, serenity and peace that brought him back from the brink a plethora of times, especially in moments when his arrogance and brashness would resurface. Damian was thankful for you being in his life, a true guiding light in his darkest moments, and he couldn’t think of any possible way to thank you for everything you’ve done for him but he’ll surly try.

Bruce feels the tension behind his eyes and in his jaw sooth themselves under your touch.

His eyes would slowly close as he brought his calloused hands up to gently stroke the inside of your wrists. Bruce needs no words to describe how he felt because he feels as though his expressions and the noises of content made it clear how much he appreciated you being here with him.

‘You look tired.’ You commented, tracing the weary lines on his hard face with your eyes as he observed your face and the way it showed most of your innermost emotions whether you were aware of this fact or not.

Bruce knew that you worry and that you worry a lot about him in particular when it came to whether he was sleeping enough, eating enough and keeping himself safe whilst fighting on the streets of Gotham. Bruce knew he was as stubborn as mule when it came to his life choices and that you were only just worried about him because you cared for him, but sometimes he wished you would redirect all this effort towards yourself because he oftentimes didn’t think he was worth of your worry, nor your care.

Bruce felt as though he should be the one taking care of you rather than you taking care of him. It’s not as though he hates it, it’s just you’ve shown him on countless occasions of your care towards him, and on even more occasions you have shown him of your unwavering dedication towards him. Bruce also feels like he should be the one paying you back for all the hard times where you stood by his side, watching him practically work himself to the bone and almost into a comatose if you didn’t step in and deal him away from the computers.

For you’ve proven time and time again that you weren’t so easily swayed into leaving, and that was made more true when he felt comfortable enough telling you that he was Batman and the dangers that would come with knowing such knowledge. You however only shrugged and told him that by his side, you were the safest you’ve ever been or will ever be.

‘More so than usual?’ He asked in a way that it might as well have came out as an indignant huff.

‘And by more so than usual you mean constantly, then yes, yes you are more tired than usual.’ You replied as you ran your thumbs under his eyes and across his eye bags as if to emphasise your point. Bruce only huffs as he watched you take in all of him with nothing but love and affection in your eyes and your touch.

John would most likely bite your hand out of an inherent need to be a teasing little shit.

Will boast about the fact that you just wanted to touch up his stubble. He wasn’t lying but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that and instead say; ‘in your dreams John.’

‘Oh I’m sure I am in yours.’ He reply with confidence as he winked, causing you to lightly pinch his cheek as punishment for his cockiness. ‘I hate you.’ You’d say as you push your fingertips through his stubbly beard, enjoying the way it deliciously tickles your skin, almost as though they were little prickly kisses.

‘No you don’t sweetheart, try as you might but you and me both know that for definite that you love me.’ John would state in a matter of fact tone. Once again you hated how right he was, but kept your lips sealed shut as not to give him any more ammunition to tease and contradict you at any given opportunity than you’ve already have.

The air between you is playful and light in comparison to how cynical, sharp witted and sarcastic he usually is on a daily basis. It was a welcomed change as you allowed the blonde to pretend to bite your hand, only allowing for his teeth to barely graze your skin before pulling away with a sly smirk as you scratch at his stubble.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc fanfiction #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagines #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #john constantine imagine #john constantine x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fluff #John Constantine imagines

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ STRAWBERRY FLAVORED — GETO SUGURU.

contents. here is a lil prequel to this btw, basically this is suguru’s shower scene but if he actually had someone to take care of him, reverse comfort, aka my extremely self indulgent drabble of fixing suguru before he turns into a mass murderer <3

it’s been a while—suguru has been in that shower for long enough that you’re starting to grow concerned. you contemplate for a bit, whether it’s a good idea or not to enter the boys shower, weighing the possibilities of being caught.

satoru’s not here, you reason, nanami and haibara are gone too, and yaga shouldn’t notice either—so, with a heavy sigh, you walk up to the door, opening it slowly. you can see him, standing as the water pours over his body, not even moving a little when you enter.

suguru is not the same—not after everything that’s happened. you can tell, you can see it under his eyes from the lack of sleep, you can see it in his cheekbones as they show a bit more from the lost weight, you can see it in the stiffness of his body when you’re around him. he’s not the same, and no one’s seem to have noticed, but you have. you always have.

you slowly strip from your clothing, walking up to him quietly until your arms circle his waist and your cheek rests against his bare back.

“baby,” you hum, “you’re turning into a prune. look at your skin,” you grab his hand, running a thumb over the tips of his fingers, wrinkly from the water.

he gives you an empty chuckle—you don’t think you’ve heard a real laugh from suguru since that day. “but aren’t i a handsome prune?” he mumbles.

“of course,” you kiss his shoulder, “the handsomest.”

“that’s a relief,” he says playfully—there’s nothing playful about his tone, though. it’s numb, automatic, like he’s trained himself to respond to you the way he always does. but you can feel it. he’s not the same.

“you’ve been in here a while. i got tired of waiting.”

“sorry,” he drops his hand from yours, falling limply to his side, “lost track of time, i guess.”

“suguru,” you say softly, “what’s wrong?”

he’s quiet, probably contemplating his answer. no one else might’ve noticed, but you have. you always do—he knows you always will. finally, he decides to answer, “are you really asking me that?”

“yes,” you say firmly, “i want to hear it. i want you to hear it. stop pushing it down.”

“i’m fine,” he mutters, “just tired.”

“i know,” you say softly, “i know you’re tired. what’s got you so tired?”

gently, your arms twist his body—he doesn’t put up a fight, just spins to face you until his face is digging into your neck on instinct. he can smell your body wash, can inhale the familiar scent of you from here. there are no curses to consume and no people to save at the risk of himself here, just the soft feeling of your skin and the warm press of your lips on his head.

riko would’ve liked you, he thinks. he can’t help it.

for a fleeting moment, when his hand was outstretched to her, he’d wondered if you’d like her too. he’d decided you would—you’re kind, you always have enough love for one more person. you’ll like riko, he’d thought. and then just like that, she’d been on the floor, dark pool of blood under her head.

you never got to meet her, and he never got to introduce you.

“what’s wrong, sugu?” you ask again, voice more delicate this time.

“everything,” he whispers.

he’s tired, so incredibly tired. suguru is exhausted. so for today, he’ll let you pick up the pieces. he doesn’t want to worry about you right now, doesn’t want to think about whether or not the edges will be sharp enough to slice your fingertips. suguru is exhausted—so for once, he lets you worry about him instead.

“i see,” you nod, letting your fingers trail to his head, stroking the wet strands gently as he trembles against your body, “everything is a lot. let’s start with just one, yeah?”

“i hate the taste of curses,” he spits, “it tastes like vomit.”

“that’s no good,” you agree, and then you’re pulling his head out of your neck—he wants to protest, wants to stay right where he is so he doesn’t have to face you, or anything. but you’re insistent, gentle as you are firm, cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. “can you still taste it?”

“yeah,” he nods. it’s true, he can’t forget the taste even if he tries. it’s like a phantom pain—but it resides on his tongue, haunting him long after it’s gone, even as he breathes and swallows and talks. “i hate it.”

your lips are on his after that, soft and sweet against his mouth. he can taste the strawberry of your chapstick, the familiar taste of you that he also could never forget. it washes down the vile taste of curses easily, so he leans in for more. and more. and more. he needs more.

“what about that?” you ask, stroking his cheek when you pull away, “how does that taste?”

“good,” he says shakily, “i…i like that.”

“i know you do,” you smile, pecking the corner of his mouth, “i can’t change how curses taste. but if i could, i’d make them strawberry flavored for you.”

he chuckles at that—it’s small, but it’s real. for the first time in a long time. it’s real.

suguru hates how curses taste, and you can’t change that, but you can help make swallowing become easier. he’ll take it—he’ll take anything you give.

“that might make the job easier,” he says, burying his face back into your neck, “they’d taste like you.”

“i’ll kiss you then,” you stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. his lips wobble, vision turning blurry. suguru is tired—he doesn’t want to hold it in anymore. “after every curse you swallow, i’ll kiss you. it’ll make it easier.”

“i don’t know if it will,” he admits, “this….what do we do it for? none of it is easy.”

he used to think it was. fighting curses was easy—satoru and him were the strongest. fighting curses was like stepping on ants as they walk on the concrete, crushing them before they can bite anyone. but he starts to wonder if people deserve to be bitten, if the people who kick at ant piles mindlessly for fun deserve to be saved from themselves.

you think for a bit, contemplating his question as the water runs over both of your bodies, slipping into the thin crevices between your skin and his.

“it’s not,” you agree, “it’s not easy. i would’ve loved to meet riko. i know you wanted me to. i’m sorry, suguru.”

somewhere along with the water on your shoulder mixes his tears, and his body shakes against yours. suguru is tired. he’s tired of swallowing curses and tasting bile. he’s tired of pretending the weak are innocent. he’s tired of carrying so much weight on his young, innocent shoulders. they deserve to be free.

“is it worth saving them?” he asks as he sniffles, “if they clap over people like us dying?”

“people like us aren’t always so different,” you point out.

people like us don’t need saving, he wants to argue—but you don’t give him a chance to, turning the water off behind him as you stand there holding him as he leans into you.

“there will always be someone who needs to be saved,” you murmur, “and there will always be something they need to be saved from. it’s not always as simple as curses and exorcisms, though.”

“that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowns, “that’s the whole point of jujutsu. to exorcise curses.”

“and if we exorcised them all? would that make everyone safe?”

“maybe not,” he furrows his eyebrows, “but at least we wouldn’t be dying for them.”

“you never know,” you reach for the towel, slowly pulling away and patting his skin gently as you dry his dripping skin, “maybe you’d die from something worse.”

“what could be worse?” he asks bitterly. he doesn’t understand. but you smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you brush his bangs from his face.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “but i’m sure there’s something. there’s always something worse. but there’s always something better too.”

he still doesn’t completely understand. but the weight on his shoulder doesn’t feel as heavy when you lean and kiss it again—he feels like at least some of his youth is still his, still yours.

“you make no sense,” he grunts, scowling when you ruffle his hair obnoxiously with a giggle.

“well, maybe you’ll make sense of things after a nap,” you poke his chest accusingly, “you really need one. and then you’ll eat something. c’mon.”

“i don’t sleep with wet hair,” he reminds you as you tug him along, stopping where his clothes hang. you gesture at him to hold his arms up, grabbing his shirt. he rolls his eyes and indulges you, letting you dress him.

“i’ll dry it for you,” you chuckle, “my sugu is so high maintenance.”

and then, before you can turn to grab your own clothes, he tugs your wrist and pulls you in, kissing you hard, kissing you hungrily, kissing you like you’re all he has. just because he can. he can taste the last bits of your chapstick—he wants to keep tasting it forever. it’s strawberry, his favorite.

“i like strawberries,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “so don’t change the flavor.”

“okay,” you grin, cupping his cheeks, “i’ll always get strawberry for my sugu.”

he just needed a few kissies and he would’ve been fine. i guess i’ll take one for the team and kiss him a few times 😔 i guess i can take the responsibility of loving him 😔 i’ll be fine guys no need to worry about me 😔

#operation: heal suguru! #teepods.writings #drabbles. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[tojipie]

what would it be like if toji had a needy cry baby gf 😣😣😣

this is such a cute ask omg :(( had so much fun writing this! enjoy

content: anxiety, hurt/comfort, fluff

the telltale sound of a buzzing phone wakes you from your catnap. you shift on the couch, lifting your head from toji’s lap to gather yourself.

“what is it?” he mumbles, pulling your blanket back over your shoulders to keep you warm. the hum of the TV almost lulls you back asleep, eyes fluttering shut.

“mm y’r phone is ringing.” you whisper groggily, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand.

“you wanna go get it for me?” toji asks, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you stand up from the couch, blanket still wrapped tight around your shoulders.

“it’s probably on the bathroom counter.” he notes, kissing you again as a thank you. he was always tender with you when you were sleepy. your heart soars as you make your way upstairs and into your shared room.

you can practically feel the ringing as you cross the threshold of the bedroom door, padding past the bed and into the connected bathroom with a hum.

he must’ve forgotten it here when the two of you had showered earlier you reason, shading your eyes from the lights the two of you left on.

you head towards the counter, grabbing the device and immediately dropping it onto the solid tile.

WHACK

… shit

“shitshitshit.” you curse, toji’s ringtone coming to a stop as soon as the phone had hit the floor.

your heart sinks to your feet all the way through the marbled tile and into the dirt as you approach the device, praying the sound it’d made on impact wasn’t as serious as you remembered.

“no.. nonono oh my god.” you whisper, immediately crouching down to pick his phone up off the floor, eyes filling with tears as you try to gauge the damage.

just as you feared, a massive crack running down one corner to another. the bottom left corner of the screen was completely blacked out save for a few blinking pixels around the edge, it’s touch screen barely responsive as your thumb runs along the electronic gash

hot tears run down your face as you realize the seriousness of what you’d done. toji needed this phone for work, practically had it on him at all times except for when he was at home.

he’d be mad at you, right? this was serious damage, something neither of you could brush off. his kindness only went so far you gathered.

and since when was bathroom tile that destructive? god, you were going to throw up.

“you ok?” your boyfriend yells from downstairs, turning your blood cold.

“yup!” you respond, voice shaking a little more than you intended. your wrap your blanket tighter around your quivering body, quickly wiping your tears with the soft fabric.

“who was calling?”

you curse again, tapping the shattered screen to try and look at the caller ID. you can barely make out shiu’s name with all the damage.

“it’s shiu.” you yell back, trying to soothe the redness around your eyes and nose in the mirror.

the stairs creak as you wobble downstairs, cheeks still wet with fresh tears. what were you even going to tell him? that you dropped his phone once and now it was practically unusable?

“hey thank you sweet gi—”

Toji’s face falls at the sight of you, immediately standing up to wrap you in his arms. your quiet sniffles turn into full blown sobbing as you clutch the phone to your chest, trying your best to hide it from him.

“what’s wrong pretty?” your boyfriend whispers, rubbing your back with a huge hand. the older man presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead, leading you over to the couch and pulling you into his warm lap.

“i dropped your phone.” you whimper, shaky hands fiddling with the device as you prepare to disappoint the love of your life.

“yeah?” toji mumbles understandingly. “let’s see it baby, don’t worry.” he reassures you, taking his phone from your lap and turning it over.

“it’s just it was still wet cause you were answering a text in the shower and it slipped from my hand and—”

you gauge his face for an inevitable scowl, maybe a scoff. whatever it was, you deserved it.

instead, toji smiles.

“oh my god.” you whimper. was he so mad that he had no choice to smile? was there simply not any other expression to convey how upset he was?

toji surprises you again as he throws the phone to the side, letting it bounce across the couch cushions.

“that’s it?” he laughs, rubbing up and down your sides.

“you sniffle again, wiping your eyes.

“whadduya mean that’s it… i broke it.” you practically sob, turning to get up from his lap.

warm hands circle around your arms, leading your smaller body back to his chest. the older man wipes your cheeks with both thumbs, pressing an impossibly soft kiss to your hairline.

“nothing I can’t get fixed.” he tells you, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“but it’ll be expensive..”

“not for me.” he laughs

“you should be me at me.” you mumble softly, guilt still knawing away at you.

“why would I be mad at you for making a little mistake?” toji’s voice is soft, reassuring. his chest is warm and he smells like a campfire, practically lulling you to sleep with how tenderly he holds you.

“I’ve literally had a bullet go right through my screen baby.” he laughs. “I’ve dropped my phone out of moving cars, I’ve had it run over. you think i don’t replace this thing every month?”

you gasp, head popping up from his shoulder. “a bullet?”

“you can thank shiu for that.” he mumbles, kissing you again.

“what I mean is it’s nothing i can’t fix.” he tells you, reclining onto the couch and pulling you with him. “how could I ever be mad you?” he whispers into your cheek.

you nod, the last of your tears drying up as your body relaxes on top of his. you hated how bad your anxiety got at times, clouding your judgement and effectively convincing you that the world hated you.

“tell you what.” he starts.

“tomorrow how about me and you go pick up a replacement for me, and then get you a new phone too?” he asks tenderly, tracing shapes into your hair with his finger.

“you wanted the new one right? in pink?”

you nod with a giggle, eyes fluttering shut as the sound of your boyfriend’s heartbeat syncs with yours.

“yeah.” you tell him shyly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “in pink please.”

#adah’s asks #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fluff #toji drabbles #toji hcs #toji headcanons #toji angst #toji x reader fluff #hurt/comfort #toji x fem reader #toji x fem!reader #toji x fem reader fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #zenin toji #jjk toji #jjk toji fushiguro #toji x reader hurt/comfort

[svmjaeyvn]

hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

#enhypen #enha x reader #enha #enhypen masterlist #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heesung enhypen #lee heesung smut #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enhypen smut #enha masterlist

[vivalabunbun]

An Encore of Betrayal

Summary: The devil with no sin nor memory and he who has held them all for centuries.

Word Count: 21.8k (get cozy)

Tags: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic, SMUT, NSFW, Historical AU, Fantasy AU?, Reincarnation AU, cursed!neuvillette, dragon!neuvillette, reincarnated!Reader, human!reader, Fluff, a lot of fluff, Melusines doing their best to play cupid, ex-lovers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers? ANGST, he's trying his best, dragon x human dynamics, Monsterfucking (two... I have no defense), cunnilingus(long tongue), marking, size kink? breeding kink, heat, overstimulation, hate sex? kinda?, slightly unhealthy dynamics (past life), dubcon, trust issues, immortal x mortal, slightly possessive!neuvillette, slightly yandere!neuvillette, TW: mild mention of blood, TW: descriptions of drowning, sin, and sacrifice. TW: Trauma from betrayal, themes of resentment, Infertility.

Author's Note: Wanted to try out a historical fantasy from Neuvillette's pov. I struggle with fantastical settings, so overlook any world-building confusion. Mihoyo won't give me his real name, and it's eating away at my sanity. Enjoy!

Somewhere deep beneath the waves, away from the omnipotent watch of false divinity, lies a village. A bustling home carved into an outcast cove nestled under the cover of suppressive tides.

One littered with tiny houses surrounding an impressive estate modeled much like the ones seen in those novels abandoned from capsized ships. 

Would you believe that such a place exists? 

Decorated with curious trinkets which sunk beneath the surface which had forsaken them, kept in this cove for so long that it was challenging to remember the azure hues. 

Ornaments decorating the expanse of this once lonesome cave, almost enough to conceal its true origin: A prison.

A fool sentenced to this penitentiary masquerading as a home, now affectionately named ‘Merusea Village’. 

Within that attentively built estate, a looming figure stood in front of a wall lined with neatly organized novels, lilac eyes running along the titles printed along each spine. 

A collection saved from watery abandonment after falling overboard by the curious hands of Melusines. Amassed throughout the years until the shelves of this humble library were without vacancy. 

Stopping a finger on a spine, he decided on the novel to pass the ever-plenty time bestowed upon him. He’s aware that each book amongst these shelves has been thumbed through by him.

But with enough years, the recollection of the contents contained within each one tends to become foggy. 

It's fate that the novel selected in his hands just so happens to be a collection of tales.

Humans have many strange behaviors, one might even call them traditions. One particular tradition mortals seem to indulge in often is that of storytelling. 

Lilac eyes browse through the pages, refreshing himself on the tale held within its faded covers. 

----------

There once was a lovely kingdom amidst lush pastures and fertile lands where the townspeople sang and danced under the bright sunlight.

But one day the sun disappeared, concealed behind ashen clouds that cried a lonesome hymn, plaguing the unfortunate kingdom with rain.

The origin of the rain stemmed from the lonesomeness of a great dragon of water.

Thus, to stop the rain, the king sent out a princess to the dragon, declaring that the kingdom gates wouldn’t welcome her back if rain fell from the sky. She was sent off in a white gown. 

Down below a flooded loch, the princess was offered to the weeping dragon. Looking up the princess saw the sorrowful pools in the beast’s eyes. 

‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, why do you cry?’ She asked.

Intrigued by the bravery of the young princess, the dragon answered: ‘Because I am lonely, I have no brethren left.’

Feeling pity the princess responded: ‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, don’t cry. I will be lonely with you.’ 

So the princess befriended a lonesome dragon under the hymn of softening rain, with his loneliness soothed, the sun peeked back out from ashen clouds. But one day, pitiful tears fell from her eyes and the princess wept so bitterly. 

The dragon could not bear seeing those tears stain her cheeks. He offered her pearls, jewels, and gold. Yet those bitter tears still fell, tainting the pristine water. 

‘Beloved princess, why do you cry so bitterly?’ He implored. 

‘I long to go home, I miss my kingdom,’ she revealed. 

But she could not go home, for if she stepped foot away from the riverside the lonesome rain would start again. The colossal dragon could not leave the loch, but he could not bear seeing those bitter tears.

So he relented, telling the princess a secret. A secret all dragons buried deep within: His true name. 

‘If you speak my name, my true name, then I can grant you one wish. But be careful, for there can only be one wish.’ The dragon whispered. 

‘Do you wish to return to your kingdom, beloved princess?’ He asked. 

The princess was silent for a long while, weighing the choices in her hand. She longed to return home, but she also longed to be by the side of her kind dragon. 

Confident in her decision, she beckons the great dragon closer, until her lips could reach the side of his large head where his ear lay. After whispering his name, she tells the beast her wish. 

‘I wish for you to become my prince, so we can return to the kingdom together, that way you won’t ever be lonely again.’

A clever wish he grants with a nod. Scales and claws shedding away until a handsome prince stood in front of her. Thus, hand in hand they returned from the loch to the warm welcome of the kingdom. 

And they lived happily ever after. 

----------

Ah, so it was that tale. 

Judging from the age of the novel, he guesses it must be a rendition of a rendition.

Words and events twisted, embellished, and simplified. Until it became nothing more than a mere fable told to entertain the wandering minds of children. 

A beloved tale of a maiden who got a dragon to give up his grand authority, stopping the flood of vengeance from drowning Fontaine.

This is what the origin of his damnation has turned into. The tales of the heroine’s feats sung and written throughout the narrative of time, passing from one generation’s lips to another’s ears. 

However, he supposes this is expected of humans. It’s their tradition of storytelling, after all, mending a fallacy into a tale palatable to their conscious.

Or perhaps, these embellishments were added to compensate for the hollows caused by the frailty of mortal memory. 

Patching over the holes with flowery words to distract readers from inaccuracies that were only compounded upon from the last. 

Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the dragon all that well, considering that they thought the proud dragon would bow to the whims of a meek human.

Placing a secret so simply in her hands at the mere sight of tears.

Did Fontainians not realize that the land they reside on once belonged solely to dragons? How preposterous it is that a sovereign couldn’t set foot upon his own land. Or did they forget why he couldn’t? 

What a naive ending, did mortals truly believe that blood and water could dwell together without consequences? That simply wishing the dragon to become a human could resolve all troubles?

To overwrite everything with a ‘happily ever after’ which never happened?

Regardless of his reservations toward such fables, the Melusines always seem eager to gather around for such stories. The towering figure lacked the conviction to deny such requests. 

From down the hall approaching closer came the pitter-patter of steps, he turned his tall frame toward the direction of the sound just as a few familiar faces revealed themselves from the library entrance. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette! Come quickly! A human! A human appeared!” A group of Melusines tugs on the fabric of his slacks while pointing toward the phenomenon. 

A mortal in this domain? A cavern hidden deep under the land and waters where the warmth of the sun couldn’t grace. How did such a being find their way into this sanctum?  It’d be best that he alleviates their worries. 

“Please lead the way.” Neuvillette closes the novel, returning it to the confines of its shelf. 

His swift movements in time with the melusines’ frantic patter as they made their way out from his estate.

Soon the tops of the Melusines’ cozy homes of Merusea Village came into view, as did the murmuring of a distraught crowd. 

“Excuse me.” His steps made their presence known, their heads perked up to look at him before parting a path for Neuvillette. 

Upon the maroon pasture of Merusea Village was a blanket of silk and woven lace, snowy fabric surrounding the still figure of a human.

Treading closer Neuvillette kneels down while reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers under the fabric which obscures the mortal’s face. 

“We found her while gathering offerings from the waters … Is she…” The anxious murmuring quiets to await his verdict. 

“She has a pulse,” he reveals, fingertips detecting wisps of warmth along cold skin. 

It was faint, but his attentive eyes caught onto the slow movement of her chest. The snowy fabric had greedily drunk up the essence of the sea. Cursing her to sink deeper below the tides. 

To leave a mortal in such a state would be too cruel of a fate. 

Neuvillette moves his hand to support her covered head as his other arm gathers the damp fabric under her legs.

Carefully, he stands back to his full height, cradling her limp body in his hold. An audience of fretful gazes follow his motions.

“Do not fret, she only requires some rest and a change of clothing, I’ll take her to my abode. Could you gather some cloth to dry down her body?” Neuvillette’s melodic voice just barely above a whisper, so as not to stir the figure in his arms.

His expression softens to offer the compassionate creatures some reassurance. With firm nods the Melusines scatter, determination alight in their bright irises as they sought the necessary items to care for their newfound guest. 

The dampness of the heavy fabric seeps into his own attire as Neuvillette turns the knob to grant him entry into his abode. 

Quietly ambling through the spacious halls, the master bedroom came into view. Neuvillette lays the limp form upon his sheets, ensuring that her head rests slowly upon the soft pillows. 

Just as her figure sinks into the mattress, a chorus of metallic clinks catches his attention. Glancing down her body his lilac eyes discover the origin.

A pair of silver shackles encased around her ankles, the unforgiving metal digging into defenseless flesh. 

Gingerly, he takes one ankle into his grasp to better observe the shackles.

This time he couldn’t fight against the deep frown as it debuted upon his lips. His eyes hone on how tightly those heavy chains were bound along the flesh. 

Soon the unforgiving metal crashes down to the floor, he soothes the freed skin with his thumb while checking for any other possible wounds. 

Lilac eyes travel up to her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be reminded that her face was concealed behind a shroud of lace. 

How uncomfortable it must be to have a cold piece of fabric to cover one’s face. Neuvillette places her ankle back onto the bed.

His large hands took hold of the damp veil to lift it from her resting frame, revealing to his draconic eyes for the first time their face. 

The veil stays suspended in the air as his hands cease all motion. Hardened gaze tracing over her features, the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, and the structure of her face.

Repeated details he had long seared into his consciousness. 

Within those mortal tales, there’s a wide variety of beasts and fearsome creatures. Dragons were depicted as such omnipotent beasts. But there’s a monster all other beast falls secondary to, the devil. 

They didn’t possess the sharpest talons nor the largest fangs. No, what made them so horrifying is that they dawned the most enchanting faces. 

He’s staring at it right now. The face of the devil who deceived him. 

Those gods must be laughing at him right now. Those false idols, with their capricious fate and whims, who once must’ve shook hands with you to carry out their schemes all those years ago. 

The scheme which imprisons him here in this humiliating form of the mortal creatures those false idols loved so much. 

Yes, a devil, that must be what you are. For how did a meek mortal trick a dragon who once held the full authority of the tides?

His chest expands with a deep breath before a long exhale leaves him. Ah, yes that must be why this white gown has appeared before him again. He removes the senseless scrap of lace, checking once more for signs of discomfort before he turns his body away. 

Finding himself outside the threshold of his bedroom as he closes the door behind him. He should wait here for the Melusines to arrive with a change of clothes and towels. 

It’d buy him enough time to steadily return the tempestuous loch to a subdued ripple in a pond. His chest expands once more with a deep inhale. 

A second cruel rendition unfolding once more in the narrative of time.  

The crisp turn of a page resounds through the room. Lilac eyes glanced up from the text every so often to watch the steady rises and falls of your chest from his vantage point of a wooden chair pulled up to the bedside. 

Heavy lashes still shut just as they were the day your drenched figure was pulled from the tides by merciful hands. 

The journey to wisdom is lined with mistakes, mistakes providing teachings one must ingrain into their very being if they don’t wish to repeat such blunders again.

Just as how a burn seared into skin is a forever reminder that fire indeed burns indiscriminately. 

A scar ingrained deep within him cries out for Neuvillette to withdraw from the fire which scorned him so long ago. 

Alas, it’s duty which has sat him down beside your sleeping form. You’re the first guest this cove has seen in a long time, thus bringing you under the responsibility of the host, Neuvillette himself. 

A stir brings his stoic gaze back away from his thoughts. Your chest rises with a long inhale as leaden lashes flutter open.

The cadence of your breaths begins to rise as more of your senses return to you. Fatigue evident in each slow drag of breath. 

“Ah, I see you’ve awoken.” Neuvillette observes. 

Your muscles momentarily forget their fatigue as your head snaps toward the owner of the deep voice. Eyes now wide and alert. 

“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.” He casts a glance toward the steaming bowl on the nightstand. 

He could feel the weight of your stare travels up his figure. Do you perhaps remember him? Can you recall his lush snowy locks streaked with azure? Irises that held an all too familiar hue, a multitude of lilac shades much like a field of lavenders.

Does this ‘you’ remember the dragon you fooled? 

“W-who are you?...” Your gaze was too cowardly to meet his.

Ah, have the cycle of death and rebirth washed those sins and memories?

The tonality of your trembling voice filled with puzzlement instead of recognition. He should’ve expected this much.

This you is nothing more than a stranger who shares the face of a devil. 

“Where am I?” Another question leaves those lips in the absence of a response. 

Just give him a moment, allow him to pacify the surging torrent within so their bitterness doesn’t seep into his words. 

“You’re in our village!” A cheery voice joins the conversation. 

Two pairs of eyes land upon a short figure with a pair of pastel horns. You blink once, then twice, then slowly thrice. Inquisitive eyes stared right back at you. 

“W-what… are you?” Instinct commanding your body to retract deeper into the sheets. 

A sharp cough halts your actions, drawing your attention back to the man as he lowers his hand down from his lips. 

“She’s a Melusine, they prefer to be addressed using she/her pronouns,” he elucidates, an ever so subtle chastise in his tone. 

“Oh…” You advert your gaze again, shame creeping onto your cheeks from your unintentional discourtesy. 

A few breaths of silence follow, he observes you studying everything but the two figures just beside the bed.

Your fingers soothing over the soft cotton nightgown against your skin, a change from that restrictive and ornate dress. 

“We, Melusines, helped you change out of that wet dress. Big sister Sedene said you’d get sick if we left you in that.” 

It looks like your diverted gaze wasn’t as subtle as you originally thought. Sheepishly you extend your gratitude. 

“Thank you…” Your words draw out, a brow quirked as your stare reminded on her short form. 

“Kiara!” She points to herself with a mitten hand. 

“Thank you, Kiara.” You finish. 

Her mittened hand then gestures to the towering man beside her. 

“This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He’s the one who carried you here,” she announces. 

“T-thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You could only gather the courage to glance at the wall behind him. 

“Just Neuvillette is fine,” his tone melodic and calm. “Are you able to sit up?”

Nodding your head, you attempt to fight through the fatigue of your muscles. Neuvillette and Kirara offer their assistance, his firm hands guiding your body up as Kirara adjusts the pillows to support your back. 

Once you were situated, he reached for the bowl placed down earlier. A light clink sounds out from a spoon clattering about the porcelain dish. You glance at the contents, noting the clear amber broth. 

“This should be kind on your stomach while providing you with some much-needed hydration and nutrients.” He holds out the soup. 

A quivering hand attempts to reach up for the bowl, only for muscles to lose to fatigue as your arm limply falls back down to your side. Your strength has yet to return. 

Another clink from the spoon resounds in the room as it gets taken into the grasp of an attentive hand. He holds out a spoonful of the warm soup, but your lips remain shut as a skeptical gaze meets his. 

“Please forgive this inconvenience, but it’s best that you eat something to regain your strength.” The spoon remains unmoving in his hand. 

There’s a rumbling stir within him. A voice snarls into his ear, interrogating him as to why his hand is feeding the very devil who once bit it. 

“If you don’t eat you won’t get better.” Kiara’s eyes are riddled with concern as she observes your sealed lips. 

That was his rebuttal to that snarl.

The Melusines simply don’t wish to see a human in such a pitiful state. Blissful in their ignorance of events that conspired long before their birth. 

 Dignity overpowered by the guilt of seeing such pure eyes marred with worry. 

Soon your lips part, accepting the spoonful of broth delicately offered by him. After he observes you swallowing the first sip, Neuvillette holds out another spoonful. You part your lips again.

Neuvillette overrides the clamorous warnings of his instincts with the duty of being a ‘good host’, bringing another sip to your delicate lips.

 

With a regular diet of warm broth with servings of Bulle Fruit on the side, you were soon able to pick up the spoon yourself. The fatigue that plagued your bones finally leaves, allowing you to support your body off the mattress which had your shape imprinted into it. 

The Melusines, seemingly born infatuated with humanity, would often gather about your bed.

They were curious about you just as you were about them. To them, you’re the creature from those fairytales he’s read them. 

In exchange for your recollections of warm Summer days and descriptions of lush lilac fields swaying in a gentle breeze, they reveal more about this village.

About how the estate you were currently residing in was refurbished by their own-mittened hands, taking inspiration from the various books depicting what human abodes looked like. 

The beds, drapes, and even rugs are all arranged by them to create a lovely abode. A drastic change to the worn and rampaged shell it once was before their meddling.

Perhaps if he never filled their naive minds with those tales, they wouldn’t be enamored with you and humanity. 

Or maybe it’s the vibrance of your smile that drew their naive souls closer. A warmth like a flickering candlelight beckoning a moth closer.

What are the odds that the hands of fate stayed so faithful to the details of a heroine from so long ago? 

From your image to your bewitching mannerisms, and alluring voice, they’re all identical replicas. You and the ‘devil’ from that tale. 

Wisdom from a lesson learned long ago, he must not repeat the same mistake. He must not be enchanted by the same flame which scorned him. He must ensure a breadth between you and him, just as those tiresome voices call for. 

However, Neuvillette understands he has a responsibility as a host. Thus, he regularly checked on your condition, then when you were well enough to stretch your legs he accompanied you on strolls. Maintaining a respectable distance away. 

He guided you through the marble halls of the estate, showing the library and bath which were yours to access whenever you wanted.

Rooms illuminated with the muted glow of luminescence gems and pearls. Water sourced from a hidden freshwater spring. 

Impassive eyes observe yours as you look in awe at the facilities and commendations hidden deep under the tides. Were they comparable to the ones you’ve encountered back on the surface? 

This estate, these wide stone halls, those pearls and jewels once scattered about, were all made just to please the bitter tears of a mortal. Perhaps his first attempt was too subpar to quell the longing to return to the sunlight. 

But gauging from the glimmer reflecting off your eyes, it seems the Melusines attempt was satisfactory at least. 

Today’s stroll took you outside of the estate, Neuvillette accompanying you about a routine walk, watching from behind as your eyes scan the dim realm.

The lanterns lining the path of Melusine's home grace the maroon pastures and rocky walls in place of the faint wisps of sunlight offered by the depths of the sea. 

Very much expected for a village beneath the waves and earth. Were you reminiscing about the warm grace of the sun you felt up there?

It’s not fair to compare the vast sky of the surface to their cavern hidden away from the eyes of the mortals, perhaps even the divine themselves. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” You began today’s attempt at a conversation. 

“Yes?” He hums in acknowledgment. 

He keeps sentences brief, but informative. Counters to your attempts at conversation. 

“I’m aware this might sound strange, but is there a dragon down here?” Turning back to face him.

His strides stop as a lull of silence falls over the both of you. The weight of his unshaken gaze upon your shoulders caused them to tense up.

Your hands find each other for comfort under his oppressive stare as he awaits the reason behind this odd inquiry. 

“W-well you see, Fontaine has been having awful weather for years now. Saltwater running crops and persistent heavy rain, it’s because the Hydro Dragon is crying from his loneliness. I was selected and offered as his bride, to stop the rain, that’s what The Oratrice instructed,” you babble out. 

“So…do you know where he is?” Sheepishly you glance up. 

The lilac hues of his eyes connect with yours as his lips remain unmoving. Staring into your eyes as he contemplates what you have just revealed to him. Your hands fumble together as you await his response.

“So humans are still telling that local legend…” He sighs. 

He has to rein it back. The torrent which threatens to brew within him. Deep breaths to remind himself about the nature of mortals. 

Humans are fickle and meek creatures who constantly yearn for something divine to worship, a figurehead to guide them in the turbulence of life.

When faced with hardship and destitution, they believe such concepts to be punishment from above. 

Thus, they invent traditions to appease those false idols. Going to great lengths in attempts to pacify those unseen forces, even if it meant sacrificing one of their own. 

Perhaps this was the trait of mortals that made them so favored by the usurpers, their naive devotion feeding into the greed of selfish gods.

Maybe that’s why those false idols uprooted the land that belonged to dragons. 

“I wonder just how far that fable has spread by now,” he sighs again.

His lashes flutter shut in exasperation as a huff leaves him. It was a moment before they flutter back open to hone in on you. There’s no use in keeping his identity from you any longer. 

“Do I seem lonely in your eyes?” Baritone voice steady and low. 

No sounds fall from your agape lips as your eyes reexamine his features, this time shamelessly ogling the peculiar details you’ve brushed off previously.

Do you notice it now? How his ears were a bit too pointed, or those two particular cerulean strands of ‘hair’ poking out from his snowy locks. 

As you study the specifics of his eyes, do you now comprehend the sharp dark pupils that cut through the multitude of lilac shades? Much like a shadow cutting through a field of lavenders. 

“You’re the Hydro Dragon,” you deduce. 

He nods in confirmation. Only causing your eyes to scan over him again as your mind reels back from this revelation. 

In those stories you’ve read back on the surface, how did they depict him? As a towering scaled beast with fangs and claws? Are you wondering why he’s not matching that description? 

“I’m aware that my current shape might not convey such a presence, ” he answers your unspoken question. 

He fights for his lips to remain stoic, not allowing the weight of a frown to pull them down. You don’t know, you don’t need to know, he reminds himself. 

A detail excluded from the pages of that tale, the ‘princess’ would only ever look at him, would only ever smile at him when a dragon took on this shape. A form which mirrors humans. 

In fact, she was so fond of this human shell of his that she cursed him to dwell within it for the rest of eternity. 

Neuvillette takes another deep breath, quelling the stir once more. You look like you had more questions. 

“So… does that mean the need for a bride is fictitious?” You clutch your hands tighter. 

Some years ago, the Melusines were born from spilled blood. A new generation of successors of the brethren he once forsaken. Making this prison much less lonesome, voiding the accuracy of the sentence in that tale. 

If that was the case, then why did the waters still rage? Why did the pittering of rain drown out all bird songs and tumults of perplexed citizens? Is there a way he could simplify the details missed by storytellers for generations? 

After that ‘happily ever after’, a dragon cursed his devil just as she cursed him. 

No, such expositions would be an unfair burden upon your shoulders. 

“It’s not fictitious.” Turning to gaze out at the depths of the underground realm, he takes a breath before continuing. 

“The land which your nation, Fontaine, resides on is stolen land,” he reveals. “More accurately all of what you know as ‘Teyvat’ was stolen from the dragons, my fellow brethren.” 

The furrow in your brows deepens as you listen on. 

“My brethren were banished to the depths for the sake of humanity. A dragon’s rage isn’t something that can be easily quelled.” He glances back at you. 

“A union between a dragon and a human, a show of peace between the two species. Even if the origins of this ritual have been embellished heavily, it serves the same purpose to pacify the ancient dragon’s rage,” he concludes. 

Neuvillette wonders if this tale was enough to satisfy your inquiry, if his attempt at the human practice was enough to simplify the events muddled and twisted by time.

Impassive eyes scan over your expression, not missing the glimmer ever so bright within. 

“So… has the rain stopped?” Your hands almost clasped together in prayer. 

He nods, the shine growing ever so luminous in those blameless irises, one he couldn’t resist the enchantment of. That all too familiar look in your eyes. 

“That’s good.” A slow smile made its appearance upon plush lips.

Ah. He remembers what that look was called, voices of recollection pulling him away from the edge. Just before he fell into bewitchment once more.

That look wasn’t relief, nor was it salvation. It's duty. He takes a slow and deep inhale. 

Just as it was all those years ago, the narrative of this tale did not stray away from the plot. He must be more careful. 

There’s been a still lull engulfing the atmosphere down in a hidden cavern. So still in fact that walks amongst maroon patches of grass have stopped. Your body was well enough to explore the corners of the state without assistance. 

No reason for him to remain by your side throughout the day, and no reason for you to shadow him. 

Neuvillette and you keeping mostly to one’s self. It was just the natural progression of things. After all, the ritual had been completed and the tides had receded. You’ve served your duty once more. 

A foreign aroma was wafting through the estate, strange enough for Neuvillette to leave the library to investigate the origins of this aroma.

Steps slowing as the clacker of pots and pans becomes more distinct. The entrance of the estate kitchen comes into view, and he peers in to see a few familiar faces. 

“Oh? Monsieur!” Rhemia notices his presence. 

An assortment of vegetables, spices, and even some meats from fresh catches were spread about the table as a pan sizzling over a crackling fire.

Ingredients gathered from offering dropped down below the tides. The recent influx could be attributed to how the hymn of the rain has ceased. 

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Your smile greets him. 

Ah, he’s found the explanation behind the foreign aroma and why the variety spread of ingredients was being utilized in a kitchen that was once mainly created just to match those diagrams drawn in novels. 

“I hope you don’t mind my use of the kitchen, I wanted something other than…Consomme Purete.” Wiping your hands with a rag. 

Yes, Consomme Purete.

It was the dish served when you had first woken up, a light but nutritious soup that was kind on your stomach. It had the right amount of hydration balanced with nutrients to sustain oneself, a perfect dish.

The only dish cooked in this kitchen, that was until today. 

Removing a pan from the heat, you carefully transfer the contents onto a plate then place the pan back on the wood stove.

The rich aroma caused an audience of bright-eyed stares from the Melusines to center upon the steaming plate. Their tails make their excitement clear as they gaze upon a dish they’ve never seen before. 

Was this a new passion of this life?... Or was it just one he never got the chance to witness?

Was this the devil before the role of a bride was forced upon her? A devil he’s never known, for all he saw was her performance to stop the deafening rain all those years ago.

His attention was brought back as the chime of cutlery against porcelain was heard, cooked veggies stabbed between the teeth of a fork.

Cupping a hand under the fork, your body leans down to the Melusine’s height, feeding them a bite of the fragrant dish. The wags of their tails increase in cadence as they chew. 

“This is Tasses Ragout, tasty isn’t it?” The corners of your lips curl as you watch their little heads nod eagerly. 

The suspicion melts from his gaze as he observes to the delight in their expressions, a few mitten hands tugging at the skirt of your gown for a bite. A giggle bubbles from your throat.

A scene mirroring that of a mother trying to appease the appetites of her ravenous young. 

Soon your eyes connect and he straightens his posture. Brushing away the nonsensical musing, lilac hue advert away momentarily to recompose themselves before returning. 

“Would you like a taste?” A fork offered in his direction, beckoning closer to take a bite. 

There’s a myth he’s read about, of a forbidden apple held out by the tempter of all tempters, an apple so red and lustrous it made any mouth salivate. 

“Thank you for the offer, however, I’ve already had my lunch.” He refrains. 

A bite from that forbidden fruit was the genesis of disgrace and banishment. A betrayal of commandments once promised. Neuvillette won’t be deceived again. 

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

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Come look!” 

Mittened hands grasping upon his coat and gloved hands as a circle of Melusines guides him through the winding halls, anticipation amping their voices. 

There’s a chorus of giggles resounding through the halls, a joyous clamor of pattering steps against the marble floors.

The estate has been lively ever since your arrival in that white dress, a liveness which reaches his pointed ears even from behind closed doors. 

Regardless, he allows himself to be towed by their skipping steps. Leading him to a room he recognizes as a space where many fabrics and gowns were collected and stored.

Garments made with the intent to be sold to Fontainians, but their crates were capsized over by the ravenous tides. Saved from watery abandonment by curious hands. 

While this form of his could wear a few of those garments, the Melusines had statures much too short for pools of fabric to not drag along the ground. Thus, that collection of fabrics found themselves collecting dust. 

Their steps abruptly stop just at the threshold of the door, mittened hands pressed up against their lips signaling for him to remain silent.

Soon their sights glance into the room as he follows, lilac eyes opening ever so slightly wider as they process the scene in front of him. 

Evening gowns crafted by skilled tailors to be sold to Fontanian ladies, you had the right frame for those garments as well.

A trail of lustrous sapphire silk gathered behind your figure. The artistic stitching and pleating draping the silk around each curve of your body as if you were the only person meant to wear it. 

A few Melusines fussing about the silk train, ever so curious of humanity, they must’ve requested for you to dawn the gown.

Just as they often had requested for him to dawn those fickle suits and coats for their enjoyment.

It seems you bent to their childish whims just as he does. 

“How do you like it?” You ask your audience, twirling about in front of a mirror. 

It’s different from those hardier dresses for when you wandered about the village and estate, in comparison this dress was much less practical. 

“It’s beautiful, Madame!” Their round eyes were enamored.

“I’m glad, who knew you had such an aesthetic eye.” Your expression softens. 

Bending down to Carole’s height, you scooped her up. Cradling her as your forehead touches her horns gently.

“Thank you for such a lovely dress.” Placing tender pats along her head, careful to not disturb her horns and hair. 

Carole leans into your touch as your smile widens. Twirling once more with her in your arms, giggles ringing throughout the room.

Until your head peeked up, finally aware of the silent spectator just behind the door frame. 

“Oh, hello Neuvillette,” you greet him with a smile he doesn’t return.

A tense lull creeps in, and a chill begins to mix with the quiet atmosphere. Lilac eyes pass over your form as Carole remains sat in your arms.

“Monsieur! Isn’t Madame pretty? Look!” Cheery and oblivious voices chime returning the warmth to the air. 

Mitten hands release your skirt as they skitter toward his towering figure. Pride shines in their beaming smiles, awaiting validation of their handy work.

Steadfast eyes lowering themselves to the level of their short statures until the sharp edges gradually dissipate. 

“A fine effort indeed.” A gloved hand extends to rest atop their heads. 

Patting their heads tenderly as they closed their eyes in contentment 

A warmth in those lilac hues, endearment no word could ever encapsulate fully. 

“Are they your daughters?” Your head slants to the side.

His body stills, strictness reinstated in those violet irises just as they met yours. Studying that look within your polite smile, one which didn’t seem to reach your eyes. 

Gloved hand ceasing all movement, his concentration now elsewhere. That expression ghosting your face, what does it mean? 

“My apologies, was it too impudent of a question?” Your gaze adverts away, searching for reprieve in this heavy hush.

A deep breath as he formulates his response. 

“I don’t share blood with them if that’s what you’re inquiring. However, they are the successors of my brethren.” 

“Oh, I see,” you hum. 

 Neuvillette returns to patting their heads, while you readjust your hold on Carole. Subtly bouncing her, while turning back to face the standing mirror.

Casting a glance, he could discern the softness returning to that polite smile. Yet, the dragon has yet to unravel that luster in your irises. 

An audience of bright eyes switches between the Monsieur and Madame. 

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

“Bring these to her, you should greet the Madame!” Tiny hands push against Neuvillette’s back. 

The traitorous clicks of his shoes against marble expose his approach.

Your head peers up from the book resting upon your lap, in the midst of reading a tale aloud to an audience. 

Just in time to catch the tall figure of Neuvillette emerging into the library at the behest of the Melusines. 

Lilac eyes meet yours ever so briefly before his gaze averts elsewhere. Gloved hand adjusting a bundle hidden a broad back, brings the other hand up to clear his throat. 

“The Melusines found these when retrieving some offerings from the water, I believe you’ll enjoy them.” He presents their trinket. 

A simple collection of dainty petals clustered together, pastel hues contrast against vivid virescent leaves. A quaint ribbon tied around the stems holding the bunch together held out in front of your face.

The recipient stares in round-eyed astonishment at the fragrant blooms before a smile melts into your lips. 

“Thank you.” You accept the bouquet from his hand. 

Admiring the rustic arrangement and the saccharine aroma as the Melusines sat around you leaned in closer to catch a whiff too. 

“These are called Pluie Lotus up on the surface, they smell nice right?” Giggling lightly as you held the bouquet closer to their noses. 

Grin ever present upon your lips as your soft eyes watch their marvel of such simple weeds. A bloom foreign to this realm abandoned by the sunlight. 

There’s subtle slack in his posture, a budding smile just about to unfold just as your head peers back up. Every fiber in Neuvillette’s being tenses, goosebumps slithering up his nape. 

Frozen there only able to witness your eyes study back and forth the hues of his irises and the periwinkle color tinting the fragile petals.

He watches an epiphany light up in your widened eyes as the bouquet was lifted higher, turning back to face him. 

Don’t. Don’t say the words he knows are hanging off the tip of that honeyed tongue. 

“They are the same lovely color as your eyes, Neuvillette.” You beam at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling from the stretch of your lips. 

His posture returns to its rigid and upright state, a hand hidden from view balls up into a fist.

A sharpness threatening to break through leather confines and into his palm, as if they were attempting to grapple the surging torrent stirred up within himself. 

Why? Why was this line from a script being recited word for every damn word? All said with that saccharine smile plastered over those wicked lips? 

Indecipherable eyes narrow ever so slightly before he catches himself. Reining in the torrent just before it seethed out.

He clears his throat again to swallow back the bitterness. 

“Do excuse me, please return to your reading session,” he utters his parting. 

Promptly turning to return to his secludedness, stepping past the Melusines gathered by his side.

Swift strides through the empty halls leaving you to your peace and him to his peace, just as it should’ve been. Much to the pouts of a disappointed audience. 

However, he didn’t have the mind to contemplate their discontent. Not when these rabid bellows drown out every other thought in their rancor.

Like a sea starved for vengeance, ravenous to settle a debt against those vile gods and their beloved creations. 

A brass knob was abruptly twisted, hinges squealing in surprise as at the force as Neuvillette shuts it behind himself.

Ragged breathes resounding through the reprieve of his bedroom. Away from innocent bystanders and the devil who showed her face again after all these centuries for an encore.  

Has he not been humiliated enough? He tugs at his cravat, freeing himself from the fickle decoration constricted about his neck in this already imprisoning body.

A form which binded him no matter how violently talons and fangs clawed and chewed, unable to leave a singular dent upon this damn curse. 

This was humiliating enough, bound to this cove that separated him from the sea which cries for their sovereign.

He once believed this penitentiary was obscured away from the peeking eyes of capricious gods. Perhaps, he’s wrong. 

Why is this fantasy being played out right in front of his eyes now after all these years?

To have you by his side, to have you reside in the home he craved out and inlaid pearls into, to see you smile and cradle young against your bodice. It’s insulting. 

Because this was all he ever wanted. This was all he had ever wanted. 

The lonesome dragon only ever yearned for a maiden’s endearment. He once believed she adored him back just the same. 

Because while she lay within his arms under silken covers, her bare skin pressed against his mortal shape, her enchanting eyes always regarded him with such tenderness as her delicate hand stroked his cheek. 

A glimmer he once believed was love.  

The tale written along the parchment implied that the ‘princess’ loved the dragon. However, that was inaccurate. She never did. 

For if she loved him, then she wouldn’t have deceived him.

She wouldn’t have ever whispered his secret to the town’s folk. Those foul creatures who then used his secret, which was once reserved solely for ‘you’.

Why? That simple question taunted him for decades as he rotted in this mocking solitude.

Why did ‘you’ yearn for the sun more than him? Was his love not enough to replace the warmth of a star? Was the home he made not enough when compared to the extravagance of humanity? 

Or was it because blood and water, no matter how much they intertwine and mix, could never produce wine? 

If… if the Melusines had been born just a few centuries earlier, then would you have been satisfied by his side? An answer he could already discern.

 Because after his decades of solitude within these deridingly hushed walls, he finally accepted the truth. 

 She loved her people, they took up all the space of her heart, leaving no room for a prideful leviathan.

What a clever plan it all was, to distract a sovereign from his duty, cleansing stolen land with a flood of vengeance, by sending a maiden.

A woman so bewitching, so enchanting, and so lovely, that a proud dragon couldn’t resist bending to her whims. Spilling the secret hidden deep within him into her ear. 

Abandoning his true form to be confined in the shape she favored the most. Then lured up to the surface, suspicions obstructed by the dazzlement of a false welcome from the nation of Fontaine. 

Unaware until the scorching knife was already lodged in his back. Using the secret he had only ever told you, those meek creatures of the usurpers wished:

‘For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides’. 

What a clever ploy, a masterly crafted master plan. Did that Oratrice bestow it upon mortals? Or was it your own little scheme? A devil in human skin who must’ve been enlisted by the god themselves. 

 That day when he was chained by that loch, you didn’t even bother to grace him with your presence.

You cruel, cruel devil whose heart only had room for her fellow citizens of Fontaine, whose eyes only ever glimmered with duty. 

Neuvillette had finally comprehended the truth, he had made peace with the disgrace he brought upon himself. 

So why did those vile false gods dangle you back in his face? They had already taken fragments of his authority.

Was his torment entertaining to them? 

Lungs shaking with unsteady breaths, he could feel the pricks of scales dotted along his skin only for this body to swiftly reject it. A turmoil of draconic influence constrained by a mortal curse. 

Like a beast kept in a cage much too small for it. If Neuvillette wishes for this agitation to cease, he must cease the stirred emotions. 

 Emotions don’t settle quickly once agitated like sand attempting to settle at the bottom of violent tides. He paces his shuddery inhales, biding in the solitude of his room until the storm dissipates. 

To avoid the placid lake within him from thrashing violently to the woes from the throb of a wound which has yet to scar over, Neuvillette found it best to avoid your presence. 

The lanterns outside the Melusine’s homes had long gone out as they followed their routine bedtime.

The expanse of the cavern dimmed to near blackness, the small creatures all tucked away soundly in their beds. A hushed ambiance provides a suitable environment for reflection. 

His steps flatten the grass underneath as they accompany his strides with their rustling.

The absence of light had never bothered him, it’s within his nature to detest it. Any beast would withdraw away from the mere image of fire. 

The rustle of the grass halts, a wispy aroma of smoke wafts towards him. It doesn’t take long to identify the origin. Only a small flicker broke through the shadows, candlewick fostering only a weak flame.

But it was enough to fend the shadows away from your frame. 

The flame’s light caught on each subtle ripple of the pond you were kneeling over.

The seemingly unremarkable pool served as the sole entrance and exit to Merusea Village. Where the Melusines traveled through to gather food, fresh water, and trinkets swallowed up by the waves. 

Cold waters catch the bitter droplets of your pained eyes in the reflection of the ripples upon the surface, the distorted silhouette of a weeping devil. 

An unspoken gospel revealed to draconic pupils. 

Under the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen, behind the diligently tailored gowns, and hidden in the cadence of your voice as you read tales aloud, laid the yearning for the rays of a bright star. 

You’re human, a creature fleeting and meek by nature. Blood yearns to be with blood just as every drop of rain yearns to return to a cloud. 

A sharp rustle of grass under a heavy step jolts your hunched-over posture straight, head whipping around to face the uninvited audience.

Once those weeping eyes recognize the brooding figure in front of them, your face adverts away from his direction. Shame evident upon your expression. 

A concerned hand reaches out only to retract away, contrition marring his shut lips as Neuvillette diverts his eyes too.

Fire burns indiscriminately, even the dancing flame of a candle can sear its mark upon skin. Neuvillette knows this all too well, for the lesion he received from embracing that flame once still festers even after all these years.  

However, lilac eyes pan back towards the orange glow illuminating your melancholic face. Warm hues contrast against the wet trails down your cheeks. There’s an ache more agonizing than a festering wound. 

His steps advanced closer until he was knelt down by your slump frame. A benevolent touch lands upon your shoulder. Guiding you away from the taunting waters and into his arms, hiding your face in his broad shoulder. 

 Offering you a semblance of warmth in a coven shunned from the grace of gentle sunlight.

With your face away from his gaze, the cacophony of your sobs returns, digging your fingers into the folds of his dress shirt.

Echoed back mockingly by the cold cavern walls.

Perhaps a foolish dragon has yet to learn his lesson, still lured in that the brilliant light of a flame. 

A gentle hand traces up along your back, softly brushing your hair away to reveal the skin of your nape to his sharp pupils.

Honed in upon untainted skin, the courts of rebirth may have removed the proof of your damnation, but not the hex itself. 

Or maybe, a foolish dragon feels some responsibility for being the one to curse you to this fate. 

A mark once imprinted upon your nape by a lonesome dragon, a heavy oath sworn to you engrained into the very fabric of your soul amidst the first rendition.

One which then became the cursed chains that sunk you under the unforgiving waters.

It’s said that love is heavy, a weight greater than the density of water. A heaviness which could sink anything and everyone under salty tides. 

A heaviness originating from this accursed prison where a disgraced being resided.

Even as the earth above welcomed new generations as they said goodbye to bygone times. 

The solitude of a fool turning into ravenous waves which seeped into soil until its appetite was satiated by the return of its beloved treasure.

It’s his fault that the tides stole you from the sunlight. 

The courts of rebirth had already forgiven you of this burden, not a single memory remaining of that tale.

What right does he have to place it back upon you? There’s no point in punishing one for a sin that had been cleansed by the tides of time.

You didn’t deserve to be held away from the warmth of a benevolent sun.

To have been dragged down below to these depths. To have been stolen away from the warmth of the sun by the command of fickles gods and ancient grudges.

It’s much too severe of a sentence for you, someone who didn’t deserve to repent for a sin that wasn’t truly yours. 

Is it okay for his hands to wipe away your tears when this cursed dragon was the cause of your agony?

Even if it’s wrong, Neuvillette holds you closer. Even if he didn’t have the right, he pressed your face in his shoulder. Allowing the vehemence of your tears to scorch his skin as you buried your cries into him. 

Glancing at the pool you had been leaning over, he watches as the ripples of the surface taunt you and him the same.

Two beings whose bodies couldn’t embrace the tides. Two cursed beings who’ve been trapped in repeated play. 

“It seems you’re bound to this prison as well.” He scorns those gods and ancient grudges, but he scorns himself the most.

Confined behind a human face and a human body, a traitor who’s lost his birthright over the waters who couldn’t welcome him.

How can a cursed dragon quell those choking sobs of yours? How can he atone for his selfish sin?

Neuvillette takes a deep breath just your tears continue to soak his skin. Steeling his resolve, he meditates on the one resolution he can offer you. 

“Fontainians still tell a tale about a princess who wished a dragon to become a prince, yes?” He begins. 

After a pause filled with hiccups and shaky breaths, you nod your head as an answer. 

“It was when she spoke the dragon’s true name that he granted her one wish,” he recounts the tale, feeling the trembles of your shoulders. 

“That part of the story isn’t fictitious,” he reveals.

Voices from the depths of his rationality whisper for him to stop, to expand no more upon this secret of his brethren. Clamorous warnings to a traitor to not repeat his past transgressions. 

However, he obeys no edict from the heavens or origins. Not when an unjust punishment caused such heart-wrenching sobs. 

“Names hold great significance to dragons. So much so, to whoever learns their true name, a wish can be granted.” 

Slowly, your tear-stained face pulls away from his crinkled dress shirt. Finally meeting his lilac gaze. He notes the bewilderment which surrounds his reflection in your eyes. 

“Is… your name not ‘Neuvillette’?” You inquire. 

“It’s a surname bestowed upon me by the mortals of the land.” 

“Then… What is your name?” A glimmer of optimism ever so subtly debuts in your eyes. 

He could not tell you. No matter how beautifully that light shines, this was one ordinance he couldn’t ignore. All he could do was glance away as he shakes his head. Unable to bear the sight of that light extinguishing. 

“That is what you must find for yourself.” 

Perhaps this is his defiance of the plot which has been unraveling for so long. His attempt to step off that circular path, searching for a different end. 

The silent audience of fate watching on with bemusement to where this rendition will lead. 

“Oh?”

“Oh?”

What a peculiar occurrence, Neuvillette was just about to exit his study when he found himself just a breath’s width away from you. Instinctively, he takes a step back behind the threshold of the doorway.

Passive eyes studying your form, you must’ve been standing there for a while. A hand held up intending to knock on the oak door returns to your side as you stare at the floor. 

“Is there something you need assistance with?” He continues to study you. 

Lilac eyes observe as your fingers clasp together, a common habit of mortals when nervous, if he recalls the contents of a book correctly. Another minute passes before you take a deep breath. 

“Is your name Guillaume?” You peer up. 

Ah, so this is what you wished to inquire about.

The secret revealed to you that day beside an exit neither he nor you could cross. Guillaume, a name befitting of nobility. But unfortunately, not for a dragon. 

He responds with a shake of his head, expression stiffening as he watches the corners of your lips drop ever so slightly. 

“Oh…”

It seems his existence brings nothing but a frown upon those soft lips, Neuvillette felt it’s best to retreat from your sight. 

This attempt was evidence of your determination to return to the embrace of a warm star.

It wouldn’t be right for him to interfere, despite those vile voice whispers murmuring from the depth of his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to you. 

It’s best to maintain this distance between his hand and yours, for your sake and his. 

Which begs the question, why were you still standing here in front of him? 

“Is that all you wished to inquire?” Neuvillette hopes the Melusines will lift your spirits after he withdraws. 

“Actually…” You began. “I made some soup and if you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to try some?” 

Although his stoic face might not reflect it, he’s positively baffled. Were ‘you’ always this enthusiastic about food?

The devil he knew before would view the freshest catches and clearest waters offered by a dragon with blasé reactions. 

You used to recoil away from the fishes and meats he held out to you, they were only ever touched once he charred them over a fire. 

Then again the kitchen back then was much more barren than the present, cabinets now decorated with bottles of fragrant spices and herbs. 

Was it just a difference in palate? To reject such an invitation would be to squander a precious opportunity for investigation. 

“The pleasure would be all mine.” He matches your strides as the two of you traverse toward the kitchen. 

Settling down in a chair at a wooden table, Neuvillette watches as you ladle some soup into a bowl. Following your form as you set the bowl down in front of him. A pleasant aroma accompanies the steam emitting from the bowl. 

“It’s Fontainian Onion Soup.” You hand a spoon over. 

“Thank you.” He takes the utensil and scoops a hearty serving of the rich soup.

A distinct flavor of caramelized onions and the creaminess of cheese. The broth had been thickened with a bit of flour and the cheese added to the heavy mouth feel. 

This dish certainly expresses the flavor preferences of humans… but could such a thick broth really be considered soup? 

“Do you like it?” Your head tilts to the side as he feels your inquisitiveness. 

Dabbing a napkin over his lips, he clears his throat. 

“A fine dish indeed. Although increasing the liquid content and reducing the amount of fat could improve it,” he advises. 

A hush falls over the kitchen, nothing but the occasional crackle of a fire filling the space. 

“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind.” Your voice was restraining something. 

As you turn away, Neuvillette catches the subtle shakes of your shoulders. 

Ah, has he caused offense? He recalls how cooking and food preferences amongst humans tend to be a sore spot for most, some books going as far as to claim critics as attacks on one’s pride. 

You had taken time out of your day to prepare a bowl for him, and he gave senseless comments in return. 

“Ah, but it’s delicious regardless, thank you.” He has to remedy this situation. 

The shakes of your shoulders increase, as a hand covers your lips. 

“Thank you, Monsieur.” Your lips seem to be trying to stifle something. 

After finishing your sentence, your lips pressed tighter together. He could see the corners twitching as they tried their best to remain neutral.

Before he could get another word in, you excused yourself. Leaving him in front of the warm soup. 

In that moment, Neuvillette vows to himself that even if you were to hand him a piece of charcoal he’ll swallow it without a single complaint. 

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

“Is your name Édouard?” 

Your voice causes him to turn his attention away from the pages of a book this quiet evening.

You stood just off to the side of the bookshelf where he was browsing, a candle illuminating the curiosity held in your eyes. Presenting a name likely discovered from those very same shelves.

Dirges ring from the corners of his mind, warning him not to allow the light to approach so close.

However, where is a shadow supposed to withdraw to when the light seeks him?

Just as how the tide couldn’t run away from the shore for long. Steadfast and constant attempts to unravel the secrets held by the ebbs and flows. 

Alas, he shakes his head again today, steeling his nerves as he catches the slight drop in your shoulders. Louis, Étienne, Théodore, and all those previous guesses, are names of heroes in Fontainian tales and epics. 

Popularized to the point many boys were named after them, but no parent would ever want to name their child after a dragon, a beast.

He doubts the pages of history have ever recorded his name. 

Your disheartened gaze couldn’t meet his, choosing to stare into the space beside him. He couldn’t fault you for that.

All your efforts of combing through old novels to search for obscured monikers just to be undone by a shake of a head.

He’s not sure how much longer he can endure being the origin of your melancholy.

“There’s a tear in your coat…” 

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, he glances at the spot your eyes were honed on and spots the aforementioned tear. 

“Ah, I see. My apologies for being in such an unsightly state, ” he sighs. Lilac eyes ran along the jagged seams. 

He should go find a replacement from his wardrobe, but you still looked like you had something to say. 

“I can fix it if you’d like,” you offer. 

It’s just a garment, a piece of cloth that fell off some merchant’s ship and found itself in the walls of a cove. There were plenty of other garments that suffered the same fate, picked up by pairs of curious mittened hands. 

To replace this robe would be simple, but he notes the concealed eagerness in the fidget of your fingers. It must be rather dull for you down here for the past year, to the point you resorted to repairing old fabrics for enrichment. 

Regrettably, Neuvillette admits he’s not the best host. He’s got no talent for small talk nor does he know how to entertain you, thus he left it up to the Melusines. However, he could at least do this much as a host. 

“Thank you, I’d be grateful if you do.” 

His steps in time with yours through the halls as an old storage room comes into view. Still filled with collections of folded gowns and coats.

As he observes the room, you guide him to a pair of wooden chairs, a box filled with needles and threads beside one. You place the candle down on a nearby table.

“I’ll take your coat.” Holding out your hands. 

Following your request, he slips the robe off his shoulders, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.

Attentively you take the garment, settling down in a seat as your hand searches through the box. After your rummaging stopped, you glance back at him. 

“It won’t take long, please have a seat.” Gesturing toward the other chair. 

Lilac eyes scanned the aged seat, the door was just beyond it, it wouldn’t take much of an excuse for him to walk past the wooden threshold.

However, he pans back to your anticipatory gaze still awaiting. It wouldn’t be polite to deny such a simple gesture. 

Thus, he heeds your request, ambling toward the empty seat, he begins to settle down just as a rip resonates through the air.

His body halts all movement just as yours did, toward pairs of eyes trained on the sleeve that had been caught on the edge of a wooden table. 

The fibers of his shirt entangled with the jagged edges causing his sleeve to rip. Neuvillette truly has yet to acclimate to such fickle inconveniences. 

“Pfft!-” Quickly your hand covers your mouth. 

Lips pressed together as they tried their best to stifle the sounds threatening to leak out. Your shoulders shaking from the effort, just as they did that day in the kitchen.

Although his expression remains the same, he’s quite dumbfounded.

Unable to contain the sounds any longer, you erupt into a fit of giggles as he continues to stare. The bright chimes of your laughter fill the room, a melodic tune he had longed to hear for so long. 

“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to… be so clumsy.” Giggles fragment your sentence along with a brief pause to collect yourself. 

Clumsy. Yes, he remembers that word, an adjective you used to describe a dragon whenever he took on the shape you favored so much.

Of course, even a great beast like a dragon would totter and stumble when in such a foreign body. 

Although he has been in this body for many, many years now, yet, Neuvillette hasn’t acclimated to these fickle mortal attires.

If these garments weren’t pushed into his hands by the Melusines and their bright-eyed stares, he’d prefer to not dawn them. 

Neuvillette shuts his eyes. His lungs intake a deep breath, stifling the sway of these trivial inconveniences before they cause any ripples.

Once he’s certain there was no jagged edge to his stare, lilac hues peek back upon your figure. 

By now those fits of giggles had faded into a tranquil lull, your content face focused on the stitches. Body relaxed against the back of the chair, weaving the needle through the sides of the tear.

Subconsciously, his frame begins to mimic yours, rigid muscles melting against the wooden support. 

Lavender hues follow the disappearance of a sliver point, then catch its emergence from the fabric.

The torn and frayed edges draw closer and closer together by the coaxes of the thread, each stitch attentively placed by your graceful hands. 

“Neuvillette?” Your serene voice interlaces with the placid interlude. 

He hums an answer. 

“That night by the entrance… you said ‘You're bound to this cove as well’.” The pace of the needle slows. 

“Why did you say that?” You finish your question. 

Observant, a characteristic of yours he’s always deemed quite commendable. Ever so keen on the nuances of his sentences. 

The piercing stare of draconic eyes weighs on your shoulders, despite that the cadence of the needle didn’t falter. A ripple makes its appearance within a placid pool. 

“Do you really wish to know?” He warns. 

You hum resolutely. A bitter taste creeps its way up his tongue, the recollection of the string of words which damned him here. 

Instinct advises him to swallow them back, to conceal his shame from your awaiting ears. However, answering the call of your curiosity should be enough of a repayment for repairing a coat. 

“For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides. That is the curse set upon this body,” he reveals. 

The needle stops.

“A curse?…” you stammer out. 

Under your breath, Neuvillette hears you recount the disclosed secret. Repeating it to yourself as if to decipher the syntax, to find some answers to his condemnation.

The answer was sitting just in front of him. 

“…For the rest of one’s life… well, how long do dragons live?” 

To mortals, it’s time who is the reaper of their existence. From the moment a newborn sounds their first cry to the final draw of air on their deathbeds, it was the hands of a clock who ruled over them.

But such hands could not touch a being such as him. 

“The life of a dragon begins and ends in the Fontemer Sea, born from it, made from it, and shall return to it to be born again.” He wonders if mortals could grasp such a concept. 

“Oh…” Your tone grew more somber. 

Judging from your tonality, you must’ve pieced the allusions together.

To be contained within these stone walls with only a pool of seawater he could not touch as the opening, is to bestow upon him immortality he never asked for.

For the Hydro Dragon could not return to the Fontemer Sea. 

Even if dragons had long lives, it didn’t mean the humiliation of immortality. The true cruelty of this seemingly kind curse. 

“Why?” Your voice just barely above a whisper. 

Why was he cursed? Why is he in this sham of a mortal body? Why did he reveal the secrets of his brethren? All of this at the trifling sight of bitter tears. 

“Because the people of Fontaine found my name and they wished for it.” 

Why did he give you his name? And why did you then give it away? There are many questions left unanswered by that tale. 

Why did a proud dragon bow to the whims of a mere mortal in that fairytale?

A creature as potent as a dragon should never bow, not to the ordinances of false gods, not to the turbulence of fate, and not to a mere mortal. 

 Why did a maiden wish for a dragon to become a human like them? Water is an adaptable element, able to take on any shape it pleases. However, it yearns to always return to its natural shape. 

Perhaps, his ‘natural’ form appalled the devil too much. So much so, she used that one wish to confine him in the form she favored most.

More confoundingly, why did Neuvillette allow such a request? A creature favored by the usurpers dared to wish a dragon to abandon his heritage, to cross over the threshold of humanity just for their sake.

Why would a dragon ever bow to a mortal’s request?

The commandments of a false god and the howling thrashes of wind can’t make a proud dragon bow, but the weight of love might be enough for a prideful beast to lower his head towards a mortal. 

A traitor to his own fallen brethren is much too dignified of a title for Neuvillette. No, it’d be better to call him for what he is: A Fool. 

What a spectacle it was that day, even those fickle gods peered down just to watch. A fool who lost his form and authority was imprisoned beneath the tides.

A stir shakes that pool, whirling and writhing, the billows of bitterness mounting. 

“… could it be wished away?” Your voice beckons his thoughts to return to the present. 

Unlike how it was written in those tales, a curse can’t be ‘broken’. Not by a kiss, and not by clasping one’s hands together in prayer. 

“Not even a miracle could make a curse vanish, a curse only ever goes away once its clauses have been fulfilled.” 

Until the stars burn out, until the sky caves in on itself, or until the oceans of this uprooted world dry up, he shall remain here. The retribution a traitor deserves. 

He shall remain in this sham of a body, unable to become the form he desired the most in the next life he’ll never reach.

Not a human, not a dragon, just an atrocity somewhere in-between. This must be what humans call ‘purgatory’.  

“I see…” Your attention never leaves the half-stitched garment sprawled upon your lap. 

A heavy silence fills the space between you and him once more. To conclude a conversation on such a doleful note would be a disgrace. 

However, what is he to say? What words can salvage this situation? Neuvillette has no talent for small talk, he doesn’t have the same mortal heart as yours to provide you with any solstice. 

Amidst his contemplation, a soft hum resounds through the quietude, and the melodic rhythm of a lullaby begins. It seems that you took matters into your own hands, ending the doleful silence at your own discretion.

Once more his back reclines into the wooden chair, pointed ears indulge themselves in a nostalgic tune.

It’s strange, that rippling pool is swaying back to equilibrium. The surface returns to its placid rest as tension melts from his muscles. 

Unaware of the hushed pitter-patter of a curious audience, drawn in by the gentle song as their bright eyes peer ever from the cover of the door frame. 

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

“Madame! Look I got more Pluie Lotuses!” Kiara’s little steps rush across the marble floor. 

Getting up on the tips of her feet to show the bundle of fresh blooms, salty water still dripping from their petals, as her bangs stick flush to her face still damp from the sea. Her pink tail swaying behind her.

Your body turns in her direction just in time with Neuvillette. 

“Kiara…” A subtle layer of disapproval emerges from lilac hues.

“Remember to dry off before entering the estate, the floors can become quite dangerous when wet.” 

“But…” the flowers lower. “I wanted to show Madame the lotuses…” 

There’s a drop in her tail and horns and a sharp sting to his chest. Her sisters were gathered around in a circle, a story having just concluded, he could feel their stares upon him. Adding to the sharpness of guilt. 

“My apologies, Kiara, I only meant to warn you.” 

She nods her head silently, tail still dragging on the floor. Ah, just what should he do? A frown begins to weigh down his face. 

“Thank you, they’re wonderful, Kiara.” Your gentle chime breaks through the stalemate. 

You take the bouquet from her mittened hands, placing them atop a counter, in exchange you offer her a towel. 

“But Neuvillette is right, it’s not good to run through the halls right after you returned from the waters. It’s dangerous, okay?” Your voice as gentle as the towel rubbed over her hair and horns. 

A content smile returns to her round cheeks as she diligently nods, promising that she’ll be more careful next time. Tail lifting up from the floor as the fluffy towel wipes away the ocean droplets. 

Once fully dried, she joins her sisters. The Melusines cast shifting glances toward one another until one finally steps out from the crowd. 

“Madame…” Carole calls out softly, tugging a few times the hem of your long dress. 

“Hm?” Giving her your full attention, a towel set aside. 

“I overheard you inquiring about names with Monsieur in the library once, could you be…” Her eyes downcasted. 

Oh. This time it was Neuvillette and you who exchanged glances, eyes both reflecting the same dread.

They weren’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to hear those slapdash guesses. 

He never meant for them to find out. Always careful to never discuss such matters in their earshot.

For how could he bear to tell them that their cozy village was actually a prison? 

His mind was unable to conjure up an excuse, tongue unwilling to speak it. They weren’t supposed to find out. Oh, what shall he do now? 

“Could you be expecting?” 

Huh?

Two pairs of eyes widened with bewilderment, mind stunned into silence and lips just as confused.

Somehow they’ve huddled even closer than before, encircling you and him with their bright eyes and tails swaying with anticipation. 

“Will there be a new addition to the village?” 

“How long do we have to wait?” 

“Are we getting a brother or sister?” 

Their chatter and probes homogenized into a jumbled symphony his flustered conscious just couldn’t distinguish. Trying to reel his senses back from this unexpected turn of events. Neuvillette clears his throat. 

“No,” he coughs out. 

A collective ‘aw’ resounds through the air, their tails and horns drooping down at the announcement. Guilt pierced its nail through his chest once more. However, he couldn’t lie to their bright eyes. 

“N-not, yet.” You add to his statement. 

A wave of inquisitive‘oh’ ripples through the crowd. Tails picked up from the ground as the glimmer in their eyes returned.

A sweet lie sprinkled over the truth neither of you dare tell, that blood and water can’t make wine. 

“Then, do you want a little prince or little princess?” Carole chirps. 

You remain silent, only gazing down at their faces as they stare back.

A lilac stare was also focused upon you, his curiosity awakening at this question as well. He watches you take a slow breath before leaning down. 

“I’d like to have a daughter, sweet and kind like all of you.” Your hand strokes her soft trestles. 

Her head nuzzles into your palm as giggles fill the air. Only draconic eyes study the small smile upon your lips, dipped in bittersweetness. 

Did you have a lover back on the surface in this life? Perhaps someone who was promised to you. A real prince this time. 

Did you have dreams of basking in the grace of the sun, cradling a bundle as a pair of tiny fingers encase around your own?

Was this the hard-earned happy ending you yearned for?

“Monsieur…” Mamaere tugs on his slacks. 

Neuvillette reigns his thoughts back from their escapade, he angles his head down. 

“Where does a baby come from?” 

The smile on your lips stiffen just as Neuvillette’s body does.

If there’s a god who’s peering into this cavern deep below the land and sea, must they send such dilemmas his way?

How does one navigate through this treacherous domain?

“Oh dear! I just remembered.” Your hands clap together.

“There’s a few ribbons and clips in the fabric room, do you girls mind getting them? So we can braid Monsieur’s hair?” 

At once the Melusines stand at attention, focus diverted over their excitement at the prospect of decorating snowy locks.

The patters of their little steps trample down the hall, allowing you and Neuvillette a well-deserved moment of reprieve. 

“Thank you.” His posture drops slightly as a hefty sigh leaves him, lids shut for a moment of rest.  

“Of course, Sébastien.” 

His eyes crack open, casting you a glance with a raised brow. The ghost of a grin barely contained by delicate lips. By this time, Neuvillette couldn’t recall all the past attempts. 

“Regrettably, that is not my name.” 

“Was it at least a decent attempt?” 

He could hear the pout in your voice, one that didn’t last long before a light-hearted laugh follows it.

Closing his eyes once more as he indulges in those chimes, he nods ever so slightly. It was a good attempt, for it brought out those sounds he enjoyed. 

His lashes flutter open at the sensation of his hair getting gathered in your tender hold. Passing the carved wooden teeth of a comb through his snowy locks.

Careful to not pull or tug on them as you coaxed the tangles out of their knots. The heaviness upon his shoulders leaves with a deep exhale which left his body, indulging in your attentive touches.

Subconsciously, his gaze trails up at the bundle of flowers resting along the wooden table. It wasn’t the periwinkle blush of the delicate petals that commanded his attention.

No, it was that salty, oceanic wisp mingled with the flora aroma. A fleeting essence of the sea.

“Do you miss the sea?” 

Ah, it seems that his stare wasn’t as subtle as he had hoped. Neuvillette turns away from the flowers as if he had been caught amidst a scheme.

Facing in front of him, your paused hands signal your wait for his response. 

“I suppose it’s only natural for me to long for it.” 

After all these years, Neuvillette believes he has finally grasped it, an answer to that void filled with ‘whys’. As if he had seized the reflection of a star from the bottom of a deep lake.

Neuvillette thinks he understands why you and the devil yearned for the sunlight. 

Perhaps the one similarity between proud dragons and arrogant humans. They both ache to return to where they came from.

One yearns for the sea. One yearns for land.

For there and only there, could their sins and grudges be purged. To gain the most restful sleep before the hands of fate shape them anew from the element.

“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. 

Fingers gentle and slow as they brushed through his hair. You hum a lullaby to accompany each pass of the comb. Melodies that made his ears yearn for more, craving for more sounds to leave your plush lips. 

His hair had always been an inconvenience, capricious strands that were seemly curious of everything in his environment.

Snowy tresses find themselves gravitating towards door hinges, door knobs, and even the minuscule gaps in ornate furniture.

However, your patience hands untangled those unruly stands. 

When a knot proves to be particularly stubborn, you tend to lend closer to hone in on the troublesome tangle. 

It just so happens that a stubborn knot appeared, causing you to decrease the proximity between your bodies.

The heat radiating from your frame sends delightful pickles along his skin, a delicate warmth making his flesh grow feverish. 

A hunger deep within begins to grumble and wallow, a greed that wishes to dig past those frivolous fragrances to get to the true taste he craves.

An ugly gluttony pleading to delve into your soft flesh. Ah, he recognizes the cause of this turbulence now…

Neuvillette clears his throat. 

“I believe I’m beginning to feel unwell, so please refrain from venturing into the cellar for the next few weeks. I should quarantine myself.” Too ashamed to turn back and face you. 

“Oh?...” The comb stops.

At this distance, he was well aware of your scent. A fine fragrance no water or bloom could hope to imitate. Concealed under a layer of lavish soaps and oils dropped from the surface was an aroma that was wholly yours and yours alone. 

A gloved hand reaches up to cover his nostrils, seeking some barrier between that tantalizing whiff. 

“Please, excuse me…” He pulls away swiftly. 

The sudden action must’ve jostled his hair too much, for the sultry sensation of your fingertips was felt along azure ‘strands’. 

Just a minor touch against his horns, yet shudders rack up his nape. His teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, sharper than they’re supposed to be, anchoring those ravenous voices at bay momentarily. 

He needs to leave now. For your sake. 

Rushed strides stow a distance between his body and that delectable warmth of yours. His back turned to you as he couldn’t bear to see the expression upon that saccharine face. 

Just what expression were you making as a dragon retreated?  

The cellar of this estate was always cold, its stones never having once touched the sunlight before, thus they only brood in their frigidity. A somberness fitting to quell a heat which yearned to burn. 

The fever has consumed his body wholly, each pant leaving trails of foggy wisps. Neuvillette burrows deeper into the hoard of sheets, pillows, and blankets. The brush of the soft fabrics prickles his skin. 

How strange it is that despite the fever of heat igniting each corner of his flesh, despite the numerous thick covers twisting and burying his bare form, he’s still shivering. 

A chill ingrained so deep it’s in his very bones, skin alight but bones frozen over, just what is this purgatory? 

Annually it happens, a period where primal instincts exude past the rigid confines of a mortal form. Making its influence in the resurgence of draconic features over the mortal flesh that traps him.

No matter how raw his true form claws to be released, the mortal prison doesn’t relent. A curse he’s brought upon himself.

Laceratations of gluttony and cardinal sin sink deeper with each provocation. The creeks of the floorboards above and the sweet voice which leaked through the woods, the morsels of you that stirred the waters of instinct. 

From the depths of the torrent, he’s so desperately suppressing came the unquenchable thirst to lure you in. Beckon you down to this shadowy cellar so that the ugly and primal waters could swallow you wholly. 

But he mustn’t. Those soft touches and smiles had just been bestowed upon him, the twine of trust still delicate. How could he ever squander such privileges? For those lovely eyes of yours to look at him filled with nothing but fear and disgust, he’d rather be chained down here for the rest of eternity. 

He must endure it for a bit longer, he knows it’ll be over soon. The gale which sweeps through him is slowly lessening its blows. 

Even if the waters of primitive instincts howled and stormed, Neuvillette refused to leave this tangle of blankets and pillows. An unwavering grip refusing to submit to those demands. Thus nature had to find its own way to subsist off a drought. 

The heat hazed over his mind, conjuring up fantasies to appease the ever-unsettled water from its vapid reality.

“Neuvillette?” A soft voice calls out.

Just like now. Desire fogs up his senses to create a delusion, mimicking the way your warm voice beckons him. It’s nothing but a figment of his depraved lust. 

“Neuvillette?” 

He buries his ears further into the down covers to block the alluring mirages. Tickling him to submit to the temptation. But he mustn’t. Nothing more than a manifestation of lust. 

 The phantom donning your sweet voice calls out for him, and gentle touches send shivers through his nerves. Ah, he must vanquish this mirage before the fraying line of his self-restraint splinters apart. 

Nothing but smoke and mirrors conjured by desire, a rigid arm expels out from the covers to dissipate the siren’s lure. 

However, it wraps around something warm, a heat which his fever wails for. Intrinsically his shivering body covets that warmth, to be buried flush against the source so that this chill may finally stop its torment. 

So like any greedy dragon, his claws enclose around temptation and drag it into his decrepit cave of blankets and sheets. 

A satisfied purr judders through his stalwart body, a warmth which could finally reach his very bones. Thus, he burrows his face deeper into the shoulder of this phantom, a lovely aroma beckoning him to pull their soft body closer. 

“Neuvillette?…” 

His eyes snap open, realization flooding through him just as the chill that had been ingrained into his bones. This wasn’t an illusion. You weren’t an illusion. 

He tears himself away, just as a moth does once they realize a hypnotic flame had set their wings alight. Trembly arms firmly planted on either side of your body, snowy locks falling onto your face. 

“Are you alright?...” The sapphire luminance of his elongated horns shines across those sinless eyes. 

The strap of a nightgown halfway down your shoulder from when he snatched you beneath his savage form. 

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” he breathes, voice unsteady and taut. 

“You’ve been away for an awfully long time… I-” Your eyes were blown wide and lips pressed together, aghast gaze not daring to glance down at the raging rigidness pressed against the silk of your nightgown. 

Frenzied shivers of pleasure jostles through his veins, tremors racking his body all the way to the tips of his horns. In desperation his rigidnesses pleaded to feel you, throbbing so painfully a hiss leaves his lips.

“You need to leave, quickly please.” Leave before he traps you again.

 Before this pathetic excuse of a sovereign loses against himself, before he makes a fool of himself. Neuvillette tries to pull away, against the weeping wishes of his erections. Face too ashamed to even look at you, but a pair of tender hands guides his cheeks back.

“...But I missed you…” You whisper. 

Why are your hands embracing his face in this unsightly state? Are they not appalled by the patches of scales littered across them? Like a flame reaching out towards a moth. 

“Leave, please.” Don’t tempt him like this. 

“... Don’t you miss me?...” Your hold doesn’t budge.

Why do you look at him like that? Irises filled with warmth as his image is reflected in the flickering candlelight. Gazing wholly up at him. A cerulean glow tinting your hair and supple body. 

“Don’t…” He reasons, the last of his sensibility crying a warning of a sinful fruit. 

“Please, Neuvillette… won’t you hold me for just a bit? I missed you so much….” The shift of your shoulder causes the nightgown to slip further off your shoulder. 

Don’t call out to him like that. No, not as your bewitching body was so close to his. The glow of a candle illuminating the curve of your cheeks, disheveled hair framing your wide eyes. 

Don’t show him such a sight, for he’ll salivate to devour you until his teeth rot.

“Please?...” Coaxing his head down so that his forehead rests against yours. 

Your warmth, your soft touches, and your delectable aroma, they parch his throat so much it pained him. Just as painful as attempting to swallow down sand from a hellish desert, it aches and lacerates his throat. 

And here you were offering a lustrous fruit, so juicy and filled of sin, in front of his famished eyes. A cruel, cruel mercy. 

“... May…May I?” It’s unbearable, this parchedness in his throat, would you be so kind to quench it? 

Your sweet hum grants him permission. Eyes closed just as you turn a blind eye to his ravenousness, still stroking his tender cheeks. Neuvillette couldn’t deny himself any more of the warmth he’s coveted for oh so long. 

Thus, he delves head-first into the glimmer of that enchanting flame. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, so vulnerable and complacent, to hoard your bewitching fragrance all for himself. His skin flushed against yours as his bones delight in your heat. 

The reigns of self-respect slip out from his hands as they let go in favor of running along your curves and edges. Each feature, your shoulders, and hips, aligns with details he’s long ingrained into his memory.

His fervor touches pushing down the silk fabric which dare disturb his worship. Nevuillette cants his head up momentarily, puffs of smothering breaths clouding the frosty air. 

Lilac eyes drink up how the chilly air made your delectable breast perky, trailing down the goosebumps lining your torso, and landing on your exposed thighs.

A dryness itches in his throat as callused hands bite into the tender skin and he parts those placid legs away. 

Oh, how could one ever take their eyes off that shiny, succulent fruit held out so openly in the hands of the tempter of all tempters?

They reveal to him the oasis he’d been hallucinating these grueling weeks. The tip of a serpentine tongue slips across his parched lips.

Since you so brazenly offered your body up to him, you wouldn’t have any objects against him finally getting a taste, right? 

His foreboding figure traverses downwards until his delirious face is right between the cusp of his salvation and demise.

Dilated pupils peering up at you for approval, an invocation for clemency from this drought. A merciful hand graces his cheeks once more, granting him his salvation and demise. 

His tongue escapes past his parched lips, as lengthy as it was insatiable, it licks a slow and passionate strip up your slit. A taste he once would only recount in the depths of his recollections. 

Does this new body of yours still have the same weaknesses? Will you still writhe in madness if he sucks on that delectable little nub? Or how about those hidden points concealed deep within?

Could this tongue of his bring you past the brink of insanity in this life as well?

There was only one way for Neuvillette to grasp the answers he sought. A long tongue slips past the entrance of your satin walls, welcomed with a lewd squelch. 

Grip parting your legs from his path further. Those quivering calls of ‘Neuvillette’and the pawing of your small hands against his head beckon him deeper. 

Ah, redemption, it’s far too late for him now. For Nevillette has taken a bite out from that forbidden fruit, the evidence of it was dripping down his chin. 

Ah, these slick velvety walls, he missed them. They clamp down with such ferocity along this beastly tongue, extensive enough to reach the deepest cavern of you.

A divine nectar begins to pool, Neuvillette retracts his tongue just enough for the heavenly taste to slide down his throat. Your sweet musk sends his olfactory system into chaos, rampant tongue returning to ravish you.

Not one drop of restraint left within him. It’s beastly how he’s devouring you. His tongue craves more of the delicacy he’s denied himself these past years, a thirst no water could quench. Wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit in a meticulous long lap, his nose bumping into your clit. 

Your mewls and sobs echo off the walls when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive nub. Your body jolts violently as the length of his tongue ventures into the honeypot, toes curling in the air, but his iron-clad grip doesn’t allow any room for escape.

Delicate fingers now entangled into his tussled locks, grasping onto illuminated horns. You were likely trying to find something to ground your dissipating sanity, how unfortunate that your actions only flamed the fires. 

A guttural growl echoed. Tongue now plunging further, slithering back and forth along your walls. For being such a sweet sacrifice for him, he’ll give a reward. Slithering tongue making sure to drag against that spot he’s memorized.

Judging from how your feet were arching off the sheets, it seems this sinful detail of yours was repeated as well. 

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls, your body twitching and flailing in reaction.

Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

He could feel your muscles begin to seize up, slick walls clamping harder on his writhing tongue. Was this foreign sensation too much for you already?

His long tongue explores every last crevice, tastebuds lapping against those weak spots deep within as his nose bumps and grinds against that lewd clit. This unsightly side of you. 

There’s more fervor in the lashes of his tongue, slurping up the nectar trickling out your greed, mixing with his spit dripping down his chin.

Your legs trashing but unable to go anywhere in his unrelenting hold, only able to pull on his silky locks for dear life as sobs tumble out. A flood of arousal adds to the mess on his chin. One he gladly laps up. 

Oh’s and ah’s were the only choked sounds your lips could make as your eyes rolled to the back of your scrambled mind.

Neuvillette still relishing in the elixir he’s denied himself for too long, not even the purest water could compare. Reveling in the taste until every last drip ran down his parched throat. 

Pulling away, a trail connects his lips with your quivering folds.  Callous hands dig further into your legs, making room for his body. Watching as the movements of your chest slowed, his brute figure engulfed your frame.

The ache was unbearable now, each impatient throb reprimanding him for delaying their greed. Neuvillette couldn’t deny their request any longer.

Back sitting up straight, his cocks thrumming against his abdomen, precum exuding out from their swollen heads.  

The cool air did little to calm the throbs of his fervors, the girthy shaft standing tall as its engorged tip weeped precum, its twin weeping just the same.

They hover over the softness of your belly, sharp pupils trail up the shadow they cast, heralding to where they crave to be buried. 

The heat of his body was suffocating, the burn in his throat greater than ever before. But why? He had drank from that forbidden oasis, it’s dripping down his chin, yet why has his thirst grown greater than before? 

Neuvillette was so… so close. If he had only endured it for another day or two, the gale within him would’ve relented and retreated away in defeat. But oh how viciously it’s gloating in its victory. Getting a dragon to bow his head to its cardinal blows. 

“Do you… feel better now, Neuvillette?” Slow pants leave your curled lips as your hands reach up to caress his taut face. 

This brazenness, this shamelessness, this insolence. Ah, these characteristics have followed you through the grave and into this life as well. You weren’t skilled enough this time around to hide your desire glazed across your pupils. 

Did you do this in hopes of making him indebted to you? Offer your sweet body in return for stealing his name from his locked lips? Was this why you traversed down to this dark cellar so late in such flimsy silks?

That gleam in those deceptive eyes, the audacity to believe you could tame the sea with just a flick of your finger. You devious temptress. 

“Better?… you’ve only fanned the flames, you devious woman.” A snarl from the depths of him. 

Before another word could leave your lips one torrid hand pins your wrist to the sheets. Nails much too sharp to be human dig into those fickle and troublesome fabrics hiding your skin from his touch.

An all too satisfying rip resounding through the air along with your yelp. Scraps join the tangle of sheets. 

Did his mortal prison deceive you too much? Did his mild mannerisms trick you into believing that he’s a merciful soul? Or did you always ignore the warnings?

A monster with a human face is still a monster. To believe that one’s patience is endless, only a human could be this impertinent.

His other vascular hand slides down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs hook behind his firm thighs. The ridges of his lower cock drag against your slick folds, wetting his girth from its leaking tip sliding down against your swollen clit. 

Precum mixes with the concoction as the glossiness spreads about his length. A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Neuvillette positions his engorged tip at your dripping entrance.

The sensation must’ve cleared the daze from your mind, your head cants downwards to stare at the two oddities. 

“A-are both of them going to…” Your grip tightens on the sheets, a subconscious search for comfort. 

Ah, now you remember danger. Now you realize your insolence to believe that a mere human could ever tame a proud dragon. 

“There won’t be any point in breaking you so quickly,” he snarls. Not missing the flutter of your hole as the weeping head dragged over it. It wouldn’t be good to break you so quickly. His sweet little sacrifice. 

Taking the erection which hung lower, he rubs its flushed tip along your slit. Each flinch and tremble sparked gratification through his veins.

The lashes of his tongue had aided in the preparation of these sinful walls, but the girth of his beastly tongue could not compare to the thickness pressed against these leaking folds.

The ghost of his breath flutters over your prickling skin. Neuvillette takes deeper breaths as the weight pressed against your core grew, the bulbous tip inching past the puckering entrance.

The stretch was maddening despite the restrained pace. Your walls fluctuate in a surging dance between clamping down and trying to remain relaxed.

As Neuvillette sinks his girth in bit by bit, its envious twin slithers against your aching clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves drags against each ridge and vein, sending jolts of searing pleasure through him and causing your satin walls to flutter. 

A velvety sack kisses against your slick folds, signaling that his length has reached its end. The fat tip of its twin resting just above your naval indicated just how deeply he was buried, trapped between your soft flesh and his sculpted body.

It’s crowded inside you, girth parting and stretching these satin walls while the length is pressed against the deepest most intimate part of you.

Forcing delectable little whimpers and gasps from your haughty lips. Quivering legs now locking ankles behind his back, like a pitiable attempt to hamper him. 

That arrogance disgraced to nothing but obscenity upon a wanton face. To see the devil so helpless and lewd under the manipulation of a dragon. What a wonderful sight. 

Surely your body remembers his. If not, then he’ll ensure it does now, he’ll engrain it into you for the next life. 

One cock slid against the satin ridges of your walls, the other indulging along your searing skin and grinding against your clit. He can’t deny how addictive your body always has been. 

Dragging as far back as your locked legs would allow him, the flushed head of one dick kisses your twitching clit, and he sinks back in.

Grunts and purrs reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 

His pace is methodical and controlled to his liking. Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge.

Each time making your core empty and yearning to clench around his girth. Just as a whine would leave your drooling lips, his hips would return to you what your core longed for. 

Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. Back and forth, back and forth the resounding slaps echoed. Mingling with his low groans and your pitched gasps, creating a sacrilegious yet divine hymn.

Your hand rakes deeper into his toned back possessed by desperation.

A few snowy strands are trapped between your writhing fingers. Pulling him closer to your smoldering skin, causing your clit to grind intensely against his swollen cock, as its twin twitches within your velvety folds.

Those babbles falling from your fed lips, were they pleas for him to bestow upon you leniency or begging him to speed up? 

“Do you wish to climax?” A polite façade purrs into your ear. 

Lilac eyes were not ignorant to how a devil keens under his body, her gaze drunk off a feverish potion of lust and desire. He could feel it, these velvet walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming ache within you. 

“That’s too bad.”

 His hips remain steady contrasting against the unevenness of your own pants, unaffected by your desperate mewls. You’ve been selfish enough, you’ve been greedy enough. If he were to grant you a taste of ecstasy, then it’ll be on his terms. 

He hasn’t gotten his fill yet, no, he wants to pound his shape forever into these lewd walls. The way they contract and squeeze around his girth with each drive of his hips, they’re practically begging him to.

Thus, he accelerates just a bit more, then a bit more, then a bit more again. Nearly folding you with how flushed he was against you. 

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into a spark. One which set the both of you ablaze. Your nails digging into his skin and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent prattles resound through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his length with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling to guide his throbbing head to your deepest greed. It was too much.

Neuvillette was powerless as his body pressed yours deeper into the damp sheets, trying to grasp onto any fleeting wisps of control as euphoria overtook him. 

Sinking his ravenous teeth into the tangle of the sheets beside your neck, he stifles the admission of his defeat. 

A heftiness is spilled within your walls and paints the expanse of your skin in an all-consuming wave. Thick release coating every corner of your core, to finally quell that ravaging heat.

Each subsequent twitch pours more into your crowded cavity and stains your skin. The filthiness of it all seemingly prolongs your sinful depravity. 

Chest expanding with pants, pressing your erected nipples against his taut chest. Neuvillette remains buried against you, brutish arms holding your body flush against his.

As if to anchor you, to not allow the turbulent waves of madness to sweep you far from him, or him from you. Keeping your quiver body safe against his. 

In the darkness behind his shut lashes, he felt it. Your soft caresses his silky tresses and heaving body. Even as your body heaves and quivers in exhaustion, why must you touch him so tenderly?

Why must you be so cruel? If your hands keep caressing his clammy skin, stroking his peeking scales, he’ll misunderstand.

He’ll believe the delusion that you love him.

Him and not the swaying flower fields of the sunkissed surface. 

Whispers cut through the haze of lust and passion, warnings crying for Neuvillette to escape. So he pulls his face from the tangle of sheets, lungs huffing as his eyes find yours.

Exhaustion muddles the hues of your gaze, but not enough to completely smother that glimmer still present. Ah, he knows that that glimmer was. 

Even in his heat-induced daze, he’s not naive enough to believe the sincerity presented in your eyes was anything other than duty.

He doesn’t want to be reminded that those hands, which cup his face with such tenderness, are bound by a sense of duty.

A reminder that he’s merely just a stepping stone on the path of your true desire.

He doesn’t want to see it. 

The head of his cock parting with a deafening squelch. A darkened gaze follows the pool forming between your splayed legs. Disgruntlement muddles lilac hues. 

But such discontent couldn’t last long when the twitch of a neglected length protests. Its bulbous tip longed for its turn within those sticky walls. A primal ordinance he couldn’t resist.

What to call this sensation, to scorn yet desire you just as much. 

It wasn’t long before your hips were maneuvered up, your plush ass now up in the air as your quivering arms and face pressed into the sullied sheets.

As one hand supports your unsteady hips. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your cunt, glistening with temptation and dripping with sin. 

Hooked fingers slides up the weeping slit, collecting the sacrilegious mixture. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Spreading them in front of his gaze, tracing over the stringy nectar stretched between them. 

How strange, those lying lips of yours whimper for ‘rest’ and a ‘moment to catch your breath’. Yet your body is still so eagerly exposing itself to his eyes, agape cunt so eagerly twitching and slick. 

You don’t even try to writhe yourself away from his hold, not even a single attempt to hide yourself from his hunger.

How skilled you are at fanning the flames, perhaps it's a talent inherent to devils like you. The tempter of all tempters. 

You’ve always been like this since the very first rendition. 

If only you weren’t so strong-willed. If only you weren’t so clever to trick him. If only you weren’t so enchanting. 

Then he wouldn’t have bent to your whims, the sea would’ve cleansed out the mortal filth from stolen land. Then he wouldn’t be trapped in this disgrace of a body. Then he wouldn’t be in love with you.

The betrayal, the disgrace, and this punishment would’ve never happened if only a fool didn’t surrender everything for a mere, fleeting creature.

Why must you make him repeat the same mistake again?

There it was again, that surging torrent within him making its voice known in the echoes of his mind. Whispering the hint on how a dragon would defeat the flame that had scorched him those years ago.

Smother the flame with the tides of depravity and vulgarity. Taint your arrogance with shame. 

There wasn’t an ounce of gentleness remaining within his eyes, a beastly hunger taking its place.

Yes, you must pay the debt of reducing him to such a humiliating state.

His neglected cock prods against that greedy cunt of yours. Unmerciful hands bruising the plushness of your hips. 

The sinful concoction from the previous sessions allowed his tormented length into your walls without resistance.

The neglected cock finally indulging in the spasms of your abused walls, it’s its turn to bully those weak spots with its thick head. 

Sobs sung in broken chokes leave your drooling lips. Trembling fingers enmeshed into the fabric as if to find some ground for your senses to land after their fall from euphoria.

He won’t allow you reprieve. No, not even for a moment. He’ll shatter your sanity and arrogance once and for all. 

Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through overstimulation, heavy balls slamming against your swollen lips.

The previous twin cock was now experiencing the hard nub of your engorged clit running along its veins and ridges. 

There’s no room for an exchange of words. No, the two of you have long been pasted that point.

No sandy ground beneath as the two of you sank under the ravenous tides of primal instincts and pleasure.

Cacophonous growls, whimpers, and sobs filling the absence along with the thwacks of skin against skin echoed back from the cellar walls. 

You keen under the ram of his hips, jostled head writhing against the soiled sheets. The motion allows your hair to fall over your shoulders.

Exposing an untainted patch of skin. Sharp pupils watching how beads of sweat trailing down your nape reflect the azure glow of his body. 

An itch assailing his fangs even has his hips continue their barrage against your soft ass. Those lovely vulgar moans wane out from his hearing as his senses could only obsess over the untarnished expanse. 

Ah, what if there’s a way for him to pin you here until the stars themselves burn out? You were given to him as his bride.

An offering made to him.

So why can’t he forever confine you within his clutches? Just as you were the original sin which damned him to this cove.

Long tongue dragging along the fresh skin, feeling the jolts of your body. 

He’s done it once before, he’s cursed you before. Imprinting a curse upon your very soul, one which followed you through the hands of death and even when the hands of life reformed your body from the earth.

Why not renew it? 

Neuvillette pins your upper body further into the tangled bedding, one hand abandoning your hips in favor of raveling in the mess of fabric.

Your heated skin felt against his exhilarated fangs, hungry to sink into your nape. 

‘Till death do us part’, that’s not enough.

Such fleeting mortal oaths are much too meek for dragons.

No, those atrocious murmurs in his thoughts command him to curse you in the next life. And the next one, and the one after that as well. 

It’s not like your muddled head would understand, nothing but mindless prattles and mewls from the suffocating pleasure only he could ever give you.

But that’s fine, just drown nicely in lust and desire. He’ll always be waiting there at the bottom to drag you down deeper. 

Just as the tips of his pointed teeth broke through quivering skin, delicate fingers grasp upon burly a hand.

Intertwining their grasp together upon rumpled linen, a subconscious search for comfort.

An action that remits an iota of reason back to his foggy mind, hazy eyes moving toward the sight of your hand clutched around his. 

Even as he’s ravishing your weeping walls, flooding your body with his filthy essence which trickles down your thighs and ass, and chasing his own carnal needs… you still reach for him.

Shamelessly pulling his touch closer, even when the throes of rapture banished all thought from your jostled mind. 

A whisper resurfaces amidst the fog and clamor of instinct and rage.

However, it’s a whisper which made his incisors dare not budge another inch. The inkling of truth which he thought he had silenced within the depths of his heart. 

The accuracy that this wasn’t love. No, what his instincts craved was not love, it was obsession. 

For love was not this sadistic possession, not to curse you just to ease his own damnation.

No, love is supposed to be much like the warmth of your palm flushed against his knuckles. 

He remembers now, the lesson you taught him all those years ago. A demonstration witnessed with his own eyes.

Love was sacrifice, just as how you offered yourself to the tides, quelling the rage of a vengeful dragon. Because you loved your village too much to allow them to drown. 

Retreating away from the transgression almost committed, fangs repressed behind closed lips. Neuvillette presses a sweet kiss against the shallow wound.

 To love you isn’t to steal you away from the embrace of the star who’s forsaken him. It’s to hoist you up to that beloved sunlight. Just where you belonged. 

Oh, how could he not love you?

The bride offered to a dragon in a white dress who once dared to command the great beast to stand still as she braided flowers into his hair.

A brazenness contrasted with the gentleness of her smile. 

The voices of heart and cruelty rang out in vociferous battle in his mind, Neuvillette buries his face into your shoulder. Pursuing the savor of your skin, pinning you deeper into the tangle of bedding.

Providing more simulation for the pulsing cock wedged against your swollen clit and messy sheets. The neediness of his movements exposed just how close his undoing was. 

The hand on your abdomen pulled you impossibly close, adding pressure to the bulging outline of his cock.

Amplifying the ecstasy coursing through your veins, abused walls clamping down on each ridge and each vein of his heft girth. The shape engrained into your wanton core, marvelous sobs and mewls echoing off the empty walls. 

Soon those moans become shattered in your throat, eyes rolling back further with each heavy thrust and slap of his balls. Lungs cease all function as rapture unravels you wholly and exhilaration becomes your undoing. 

Sloppy contractions mix the repercussions of multitudinous ruination, dripping out your convulsing cunt. Just before a hot surge replenishes the brood that oozed out on the sullied sheets.

Grunts vibrate against your back reminding your body to breathe. 

Thick ropes paint your belly and sheets, making an absolute mess. Contracting walls trying but failing to contain the aftershocks from his cock buried deep within, already stretched to their limits, capacity long exceeded. Shudders rack your body and his the same. 

With hands still entangled, he coaxes your body around. Granting him a mesmerizing view of your debauched face.

The face he’s so enamored with that he bows his down closer, bodies still connected as he wishes to echt every last detail of you into his being. So that eternity may remember you. 

Softness resurfaces in his bones, a tender kiss pressed upon your fingers. Soothing those tremors as he guides your consciousness back to reality. 

He holds you, remaining inside as to contain his greed spilled deep inside. The heftiness of his cock prods against your shuddering walls. Every last fiber of your being overstimulated with pulsing pleasure. 

Yet, your hand refused to let go. Still holding him toward your exhausted figure in the dying light of the candle.

Whimpers and coos exchanging in a duet of devotion, a hymn so placate it quells the vapid torrents ever so slightly.

Placid fingers drawing circles into your sore back. A gentle lilac gaze keeping watch as your teary eyes retire behind heavy lashes. 

Blood and water no matter how much they’re mixed, won’t produce wine.

However, just for tonight in a realm heavy with lust, passion, and phantasm, they’ll craft a wine of delusion. One filled with nothing but wishful fantasy. 

However, this wine of delusion shall be enough to quench the thirst of lascivious compulsions and vengeance. 

The gentle caresses of steam ghost past your leaden lashes, lukewarm ripples lap against your skin. Your sore body propped up against the porcelain, as Neuvillette drags a dampened towel along your skin. 

A pang of guilt stung him each time the cloth passed over a discolored imprint. No amount of diligent rubs would purify your skin of those bruises in the shape of his fingers. 

A stir from muscle gradually awakening from slumber reflected in the wavelets of the bath. The sensation of a damp towel must’ve further jolted your senses back to alertness. 

A cerulean glow glistens off the polished surface as your vision finally centers on the figure rising warm water over your limp body.

Attentive eyes immediately connect with yours as he scans your expression for discomfort. 

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Neuvillette halts the towel. 

You respond with a slow shake, your throat must be too sore to answer. Despite how he tries to conceal them behind a robe, blotches of azure painted along his fair skin.

Proof that draconic influence was still in rebellion of his body. All the while he’s very much aware of your eye’s every move. What an appalling sight it must be for you. 

“If I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave promptly, this was just the only solution I could find to bathe-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Voice hoarse as your frame melts closer to his, delicate fingers intertwining with between the spaces of his own scaly fingers.

Allowing your breaths to minge in tandem in the steam-damped tiles of the tranquil bathroom. 

“Does it hurt?” A warm thumb traces soft circles along the rough scales along his hand. 

Did you catch the subtle twitches and jolts of his muscles? A mortal body rejecting draconic influences, draconic influences revolting against a mortal cage. Still, he shakes his head. Lilac gaze watching your eyes trail between the scales and his eyes with skepticism. 

“I’m not quite sure as to why I’m still in this… state.” Neuvillette gives a preemptive answer to the question he assumes to be hanging off your tongue. 

“Do you… miss the sea?” However, it seems you had another inquiry hidden in your ever perplexing mind. 

A deep sigh resonates through the tranquil air. He stares at the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water, a taunting substitute for the sea that called for him. 

“I suppose it’s natural that I yearn for it…”

A hum was your only response, eyes hidden behind closed lashes. Neuvillette just couldn’t decipher that smile of yours, curled lips reflected over the rippling surface of the steaming water. 

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

“Your body is still delicate, please let us return back to the estate-”

“I might actually grow roots into that bed if I’m to rest there any longer.” A pout was evident in your voice. 

Taking a few greater strides, your body pulls in front of Neuvillette’s pace. It was only momentary of course, for he swiftly rejoins your side.

Observant eyes not missing the subtle wobble in your steps along the pastures of the village.

“Please just don’t stray too far.” He relents, offering up his arm for support. 

With a gracious smile, your arm curls around his, interlocking your fingers with his as two pairs of steps ambled along the grass.

Soon a familiar pool of water came into view, enticing two pairs of eyes with its glimmering ripples.

What it strange sight those waters showed, a cursed dragon who yearned for his place and a cursed mortal who longed for the sun, two cursed beings holding hands in the reflection along the pristine surface. 

“I believe this is far enough. ” His arm pulls your frame closer, a subtle hesitance tainting his tone. 

However, your body didn’t budge. Resolute stance not moving even one bit watching your reflection warp and contort in the water. A deep breath echoes off the wall. 

“Neuvillette… do you miss the sea?” Your stare parts with the water, now peering straight into his lilac hues. 

‘Do you miss the sea?’ You’ve asked him this question many times. He's always given a composite response, but maybe his flowery words diluted the meaning too much to your ears. 

“Yes, I do miss the sea.” His candid yearning. 

There was a question his lips didn’t dare ask, ‘Do you miss the sun?’, Neuvillette wanted to riposte your questions with this question of his.

But he knew it would be pointless, for he already knew the answer. Wordlessly written all over your melancholic stare into the pond, the longing to return to the sun, to be with blood and not water. 

To love you, would be to hoist you up to where you longed to be, in the embrace of the warm sun. Neuvillette had thought he made up his resolve long ago.

However, would it be too selfish of him to wish to turn back?

To convince you to back into the tranquil estate where the Melusines await your return with those dishes you taught them how to cook.

Or maybe would at least try on those gowns still untouched? Could you wait until all those books in the library were read through by your sweet voice?

Would you be oh so kind enough to hold his hand just for a moment longer? At the very least, would you allow him to memorize your warmth? 

His grip on your hands tightens ever so briefly, a shaky breath trembles in his chest before he releases it along with the tension in his fingers.

No, it wouldn’t be fair to stall any longer, you deserve your happy ending. 

Calmly, the dragon bows his head closer to yours. Ignoring the aggrieved voices that cried for him to swallow back to secret just about to spill from his tongue.

The ending of this tale won’t ever change, for a dragon is just as foolish as he was before. 

“My true name is-!” His voice was stunned as a pair of soft lips silenced him. 

Your lips pressed against his own, forcing back the secret. His bewildered eyes hone in upon your face, but your lashes were shut as your hands pull his face closer. The resolve wanes from his bones as he sinks into your embrace. 

As your lips pull away, gasping for breath. He places his hands atop yours, searching your face for an answer. All he got was that indecipherable smile. 

Pulling his face down closer to yours again, your lips find themselves right next to his pointed ears. Under a faint breath which left your parted lips came the secret he kept locked away.

Since when? When did you find his name? Or… did you know this whole time? 

Neuvillette reels back in the embrace of your cruel hands. Lilac eyes stare deep into yours, peering through the cracks in that enchanting façade of yours. 

Ah, this whole time, did he not discover the false innocence in the irises of the deceptor of all deceptors? 

A foolish moth fell for the deception of a devil once again, flying to the flicker of a candle until his wings were charred off into ash.

Those sentences written upon parchment weren’t lies, all other monsters fall secondary to the devil. Even a dragon. 

“Why?” Was all he could muster, oh cruel devil why did you play him a fool once more?

“Because I wanted to see you again… but I knew you wouldn’t quite share the same sentiment since the moment I heard your voice… so I lied,” Those audacious eyes of yours never looked away. 

Ah, how could he forget how crafty and observant a devil is with her schemes? The charming enchantment as she performs her deceptions. Speaking shameless lies with those bewitching lips.

“If you wanted to see me… then that day at the loch… why weren’t you there?” The stir of the torrent within put a snarl into his throat.

Why must you keep lying to him? 

Ah, from the start, Neuvillette should’ve listened to the clamorous cries of his instincts. To withdraw away from the flame, to extinguish the hell fires before they left another lesson learned upon his skin.

Yet, he’s still within the embrace of your cruel hands. His body just wouldn’t pull away. 

Just what is this level of stupidity called? For a moth to still crave the warmth of the flame which charred its wings into ash. Just what is this lunacy called? 

“The nobles locked me away after those tyrants stole your name from my tongue, they locked me away.” Torment brewing in those irises which reflected him. 

A chill staggers the surge of the torrent, an icy sting which stupefied the rampaging currents.

For generations upon generations of scribes and poets never penned this detail down in any rendition of a classically beloved tale. 

“I begged them, I banged against the bars of the cell, even clawed at the stone walls until my fingers were raw, but they left me there to rot in the cold… I just wanted to see you one last time, just once more.” Those bitter pools formed in your penitent eyes spill over. 

This wasn’t how the tale was supposed to end. The maiden, who deceived a dragon for her people, was supposed to be hailed a hero. You were supposed to have a happy ending, so why didn't you get that? 

“All I ever wanted was for you and me to walk amongst humanity… look where that got us…” Tears descend from your cheeks and onto the grass below, a humorless chuckle. 

Was this another lie falling from those saccharine lips of yours? Sugar dusted on the shell of a vile trick? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 

“That foolish wish of mine… it must’ve been so painful. I’m so sorry.” Your thumb traces over the scales dotted over his cheek, evidence of a draconic rebellion against a mortal condemnation. 

Does your touch scorn or soothe him? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll say sorry one thousand times if you wish.” A tremor in your voice.

The surge within him couldn’t sustain itself, faltering and receding back to a placid, pathetic ripple. Perhaps… It's tired.

Tired of holding onto this futile grudge. Not when the bitter answers its tides were ravenous for had finally sunk in. 

He takes a deep breath, collecting his resolve. 

“...what… what do you wish for?” Just how will this rendition end? Neuvillette doesn’t know. 

But he knows his hands should hold onto yours, desperately etching the details of your tender touch into its memory. Rations to sustain him for the rest of a solitary eternity. 

He hears your slow inhale, preparing your throat to speak your selfish desires. 

“I wish for your curses to become mine alone to bear.” You reveal your selfish wish, pressing the voucher of freedom into his hands. 

He had that look on his face again. Disbelief stupefied each muscle of his dashing face, wide eyes peering into yours trying to find the hint of a jest. Your gaze doesn’t waiver as your finger tightens around his. 

“Grant me my wish… please.” Lips stretching with a reassuring smile.

His lips press into a thin line, face returning to its place between your warm hands, he takes a deep breath. Perhaps it’s just his sense of responsibility and fairness that compelled him to fulfill this wish. 

Or maybe, the dragon just couldn’t help but submit to the whims of his beloved, a statement that remained no matter what rendition of the tale it was.  

Releasing the breath he held, the shift in the air was palpable, a lightness in his chest. The pond off to the side billows momentarily, drawing focus toward its excited ripples.

Releasing his hold, feet leading him to the side of the saltwater before his mind could process his own actions. 

He could hear it again, the hymns of the water singing the end of his exile. Reaching out a hand, it sinks past the cool surface, the tides welcoming back their prince with mellow kisses. 

The ocean calls for him, so why is he still staring back at you? The one who’ll never embrace the sea again for the rest of her life, nor ever feel the sway of Summer days in a field full of Pluie Lotus. His eyes conveyed a question his lips couldn’t bear to ask. Thus, you give the answer he seeks. 

 “Think of it as my reparations to you, an overdue apology for my mistake, for making you to suffer so much.” That glimmer in your eyes, one he understands now. 

Moving the hex to a body whose true master was the mistress of time, a body blessed with mortality. If a miracle isn’t enough to make a curse break, then perhaps the tides of time could. 

Taking a piece of the curse with each tick of a clock, just like how the waves take with it grains of sand from warm beaches. 

Once a withered mortal body is called back to the earth, the clauses will be fulfilled after many centuries. Unsettled grudges eroded away like those sandy banks. 

Until the pull of the ground makes its visible influence on your skin. Until your locks come to resemble the snowy shade you’ve lovingly run your fingers through. Until the sweet earth hums for you to embrace it once more, you shall remain here. 

What a clever scheme it all is, a masterful plan which could only ever be conjured by you. You devil, oh so devious, devil. 

“You can hate me, I won't hold it against you,” you whisper. “May this tale end in your happiness, let me do this much for you.”

A bitter bile festers at those lies of yours. How could such lies fall from your lips so easily when they always left such a vile taste upon his tongue?

Gaze honed in upon your frame, watching the gentle smile hold back the slight quiver of your shoulders. He stands back up, slow strides returning him to your side. Taking your hands into his larger ones, placing your soft touch back along his cheeks. 

“Silence… I won’t hear such deceit.” Snowy locks brushing against your fingertips.

“But I wasn’t lying…” Confusion furrows your brow, but your hands remain cupping his face.

Moving away, he studies the rivulets of regret and anguish that leave bitter trails down your cheeks. He swallows back the objections clawing up his throat, such vile words don’t belong on your tongue. 

“How could I hate you?” he confesses. 

Neuvillette has finally come to a realization. All those renditions, all those differing retellings of a classic tale. He had read them all wrong, basis clouding his interpretation. 

For the princess did love her dragon. Just as he loved her, all this time. 

Together in the depths of a cave away from the prying eyes of the divine. Breaths in time with one another as they stand in the embrace of one another, until the dragon bows his head back down.

Touching his forehead to hers, so that maybe Neuvillette could get a glimpse into that ever mystical mind of yours. 

“How can I ever hate what I’ve coveted for so long?” He asks. 

That ever-stirring torrent, that spiteful surge, where did it go? Those clamorous voices with their vengeful snarls and cynical bellows, why weren’t they intrepid enough to direct those foul words toward you? 

Not you, never you. How could they ever hate you, the heroine of a Fontainian fairytale they’ve pitifully yearned for so long? 

“Am… am I loved then?” Your lashes were squeezed shut as if death was rapping upon them. Too cowardly to face the verdict. 

“Yes… yes, you devious devil…” Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle at such an endearing sight.

He feels your fingers tense around his skin, astonishment in the features of your face. It soon melts away into those welling pools as a smile pushes against the corners of your eyes. 

Pressing your forehead to his, a warm droplet rolls down your cheek and over the curve of your lips. He simply rests his head against yours.

Only now in the last sentence of this retelling of a tale which has been twisted, distorted, and embellished away from the initial narrative did an unwritten truth emerge. 

A clever maiden was just as foolish as a proud dragon. The weight of their foolishness was so great it dragged them beneath the waves and kept them in a cove deep away from the prying eyes of gods. 

However, if this idiotic dragon could intertwine his fingers with yours. If he could be by your side until the hands of time call you back to the earth in this final rendition. 

If he could be the happy ending you deserved, then he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. 

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #vivalabunbunfics #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette angst #neuvillette fluff #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin x you #neuvillete x reader

[strawchocoberry]

SHE SAID “FUCK ME LIKE I’M FAMOUS”, I SAID “OKAY”

୨୧ featuring: shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, barou shoei, chris prince, michael kaiser x fem reader 

ଘ cw: manga spoilers || smut, nipple play, fingering, size kink, pet names, rough sex, dumbification, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m receiving), mirror sex, pillow humping, masturbation, voyeurism, degradation kink, thigh fuck, thigh riding, dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie 

୨୧ synopsis: they ruin your little cunt while you’re wearing their jerseys 

ଘ wc: 4.5k

ʚ SHIDOU RYUSEI ɞ 

“Shidou!” you called for him. “Your package is here!” 

Shidou didn’t respond to you. Curious about the contents of the package, you decided to open it for him. Knowing him, it was probably just some new sex toys or that maid outfit you had accidentally discovered that he ordered for you a few days ago. Your eyes widened as you saw the official U-20 uniform inside for his upcoming game. You traced your fingers on the back of the jersey along his name and number; Shidou 13. Taking your shirt off, you tried it on, the jersey barely covering your ass, as you were twirling around in the living room. 

A pair of two arms wrapped around your body, bringing your movements to a stop. You felt his hot breath fanning your neck, as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Seems like my package has arrived.” Shidou kissed your neck. Not the one he was impatiently waiting for, but fuck, he had never imagined seeing you in his jersey. His hands slithered underneath it, grazing your skin and making your breath hitch. A menacing smirk was curved on his lips as he realised you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. “Are you trying to seduce me, kitten? ‘Cause it’s fucking working…” he whispered in your ear. 

He was rubbing his clothed cock on your ass, whilst kissing your lips and playing with your nipples underneath his jersey. He hadn’t thought that seeing you in it would have this much of an impact on him and yet there he was, turned on and needy to fuck you. Placing two of his fingers in front of your mouth, he signalled you to open it for him and you obliged, your tongue sucking his fingers oh so perfectly, coating them with your saliva. He then slipped said fingers into your cunt, violently thrusting them in and out, having you bent over screaming, unable to maintain your composure. 

Shidou turned you around to face him and kissed your lips, as he guided you towards the couch behind you. The two of you lay down on your sides, still facing each other. His tongue slipped into your mouth, as you shared steamy open-mouthed kisses. Breaking your kiss, he removed your shorts and panties, placing your leg on top of his thigh, then rubbed teasing circles around your hole, making you moan, before he muffled your sounds with another kiss. You gasped, as he pushed his fingers in your cunt, picking up from where he left off earlier. 

You moaned as you sucked on his tongue, turning him on even more. You could see it in his eyes that were looking at you so lovely and yet so lustfully. Burying his face on the crook of your neck, he left behind hickeys and bite marks, leaving his mark on your body, while simultaneously fucking your wet pussy with his fingers, as you held tightly onto his shirt, your head thrown back and moans escaping your lips. You tightened around him, as you came undone, moaning his cursed name. 

You were panting hard in an attempt to regulate your breath, while Shidou kept fingering you through your orgasm, spreading your slick all over your inner thighs. Giving you a little time to collect yourself, he stood up and got rid of his clothes. He stood above you, one knee over the couch, his hand stroking his hard cock at your fucked out state, feeling the dopamine taking him to cloud nine, painting your ass cheeks with his cum. “Fuck— You’re making me explode, baby girl,” he groaned in pleasure. He then sat back down, taking you in his embrace, your head falling back on his shoulder, still quite dazed. 

Lining himself with your hole, you held onto his hands, as you slowly went down on him, a deep moan leaving your lips and having Shidou fight back his urge to go feral on you like a bitch in heat. You bounced yourself on his cock, moaning as he reached deep inside you. He was stretching oh so perfectly your gummy walls, you could feel every inch of him. His head had fallen back on the backrest, as Shidou kept looking at you riding him in his shirt. Only the thought that he’ll be wearing that shirt to the upcoming game had him on the verge of orgasming. 

He leant closer, biting down on your neck and engulfing himself in your scent. That’s when he snapped. Shidou held your waist bruisingly tight, before going ballistic, forcing your hips down on his shaft, his balls hitting your ass. You felt the air being violently driven out of your lungs, mouth agape and voice cracking, as your brain blacked out. “Go ahead. Cum all over my cock for me, baby girl,” he breathed in your neck. Your body obeyed his command, before your brain could even process it. 

ʚ OLIVER AIKU ɞ 

“It’s too bad that you lost to Blue Lock, but goodness you were so hot at that moment!” you squealed enthusiastically, watching for the 1000th time the moment Oliver congratulated Blue Lock on their win. The way he removed his glove with his teeth had you on a chokehold. 

Oliver could only just lay on the bed, running his fingers through your hair as you fangirled over him. He couldn’t help but find it kind of cute. “Well, now that the Japan U-20 team will be reconstructed by Blue Lock, I can’t help but wonder when — or more accurately if — I’m ever going to wear that uniform again.” He leant closer ready to kiss your lips, when you suddenly stood up and left the room, leaving him high and dry. He laughed at himself and just lay on his back with his eyes closed. 

“No matter what happens, I will always be rooting for you!” 

Hearing your voice, he opened his eyes to a surprise. You crawled towards him on the bed, wearing his jersey and kissed his lips softly. You were only going for an innocent little peck of his lips, but you should have known better. Oliver ran his fingers through your hair, his hand finding its way to the back of your head keeping you steady. You opened your eyes confused only to notice the libido gleam in his eyes; the bloody gaze of his that always had your body quivering with exhilaration. 

You melted all over him, grinding your already soaked cunt on his clothed cock. His hands rested on your ass, adding more force and friction to your movements. You moaned in your kiss, starting to lose yourself in the moment. Ridding you of your clothes, everything but his jersey, you stood on your knees on the bed, Oliver sat in-between your legs and pulled you down for another kiss, a more aggressive one, his tongue taking the upper hand of yours. He started rubbing your folds with two of his fingers, while his thumb was stimulating your clit, having you grab onto his shoulders for support. 

You gasped at how smoothly your cunt welcomed his fingers, tightening just right around them, making you feel them drag themselves along your velvet walls. Oliver curled them up, hitting your g spot, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body, as you moaned his name. He was bewitched at the sight of your lips parting to sing his name in his favourite tone, while you were wearing his jersey. His boner was starting to become unbearable. Pulling his sweatpants down, he used his free hand to stroke himself at the same tempo he fingered you. 

“Oliver… Need you… I need your cock inside me…” you moaned. 

“Ah fuck—” he shakily breathed as he cummed in his hand. 

You followed right after. As your body was overtaken by ecstasy, he removed his fingers, earning some whines from you. Holding your waist, he slowly slid you down on his shaft, making you moan at the sensation. You were impatient, so you started riding him, moving your hips relatively fast, feeling him stretch you out just like you wanted. With a swift move, Oliver manhandled you into lying on your stomach, him hovering on top of you and viciously pounding into your cunt. 

You had turned your face to the side, looking at him over your shoulder, as you moaned “Oliver…” and he would stumble to keep his sanity together, observing how gorgeous you were in his jersey. “Aiku 2” he read on the back, as he fucked you dumb, while leaving hickeys all over your defenseless neck. Maybe he needed to teach you a few things about defence. Or maybe he shouldn’t, because that would only make things more difficult for him. 

Your ass cheeks had turned red from the relentless thrusting of his hips. Oliver captured your lips, muffling your moans, as you kept creaming all over his cock. It was as if you wished he stayed there deep within you for eternity. And you indeed wished that. One of his arms wrapped underneath your hips, rubbing your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You trembled underneath him and yet you couldn’t go anywhere. You were caged beneath him, forced to take everything he gave you. 

“I can never get enough of your tight little cunt, love,” Oliver moaned in your ear. You screamed, as you came undone, your fingers intertwined together, as he railed your pulsating pussy, his face resting on your shoulder, peppering your neck with kisses. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he groaned, as he thrusted his hips erratically, continuously hitting your g spot, stimulating you all over again, driving you to the edge of insanity. 

ʚ BAROU SHOEI ɞ 

You were scrolling mindlessly through your phone, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. Barou hadn’t quite yet got off of the euphoria after winning the match against FC Barcha. As soon as he came back, he kissed you, while lifting you in the air. “Tonight we’re going to celebrate,” he promised you, then vanished to have a bath. Only the thought was enough to make you get wet. Leaving your phone on the bed, you stood up and picked up his jersey from the laundry basket. It was still kind of sweaty, but you didn’t mind as you threw it over your head. 

You went to the mirror and looked at your reflection. You quite liked how large it was on you. You were so busy, posing in front of the mirror in his jersey that you failed to realise the king’s presence behind you. Your movements came to a sudden stop, your eyes locking with him through the mirror. He had just walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, hair down and his whole body dripping. 

In any other case, Barou would have surely scolded you for wearing his sweaty jersey, as that was so unclean of you. But at that moment, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He read “Barou 13” on your arched back and his body went in a rut, seeing how nicely your ass was popping out underneath his jersey. Before you could even think of moving a muscle, he found himself behind you, his hands groping your ass, as his lips kissed your neck. 

“Look at you, dressing up formally for an audience with your king,” he whispered in your ear. Grabbing your chin, he turned you to him, crushing his lips on yours. He sneakily slid one of his arms underneath his jersey, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple hard, making you whine on his lips. Pulling away from his lips, you kissed his neck, collarbone, upper chest, reaching down his abs and stopping above the towel. 

Sitting now on your knees, as if hypnotised by his aroused state, you threw the towel to the side and licked your lips, as your hand stroked his length. You peppered his shaft with kitten licks, lollying over that one angry vein that made him mad with pleasure, groaning as he looked down at you, his right hand ruffling your hair, before resting on the back of your head as you slowly took him in your mouth. His breath came out shaky, as your tongue swirled around his tip teasingly. He thought you looked oh fuck so irresistible that he couldn’t wait to slide his cock deep in your cunt. 

“Fuck— Yes, that’s it, that’s it…” Barou breathed hard, as he cummed in your mouth. “Swallow it all up like the good girl you are.”

And you did. Pulling you up by your arm, he wiped away some of his cum from the corner of your lips, then slid his thumb into your mouth for you to lick it clean. With a swift move, he had you facing the mirror, as his bigger figure loomed over yours. “You’re dripping…” he cooed, biting your ear, as he rubbed his fingers on your bare folds. You squirmed, back arched and head hanging low, filthy moans echoing in the room. Your legs trembled as he wickedly thrusted his fingers in your cunt, the squelching sounds making you a babbling mess from how good he was making you feel. 

His other arm wrapped around your waist and reached your clit, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your skull and your head to fall back on his shoulders, as you literally cried from pleasure. You were moaning in his ear and yet Barou couldn’t care less if the last thing he ever heard was your honeyed voice and the sounds of his fingers fucking your cunt. Your body violently spasmed in his caging embrace, your orgasm hitting you hard, causing you to feel lightheaded. 

You were panting hard, hands barely able to hold onto the mirror for some stability, when you felt his girth rubbing against you. With one sharp thrust of his hips, he was now stretching you out, amused at how your pussy was already clamping down around him; and he had only just put his cock inside you. He assumed a similar pace as before, fucking you hard, his balls slapping your ass, marking the spot red. “Look in the mirror,” he ordered, slapping your ass, making your body jolt. When you refused to oblige out of pure embarrassment, he choked your neck, forcing you to look at your reflections. “Look how well you take my cock.” He slapped your ass once more. 

He bit down on your neck and sucked on your soft skin, leaving his marks all over you to prove that you were his. His hands held tightly onto your waist, forcefully slamming your hips against his, hitting deep inside at that sweet cursed spot that had you become an utter mess for him. Your cunt creamed around him as you orgasmed. Barou had to practically wrap an arm around you, otherwise you would have ended up on the floor. His hips continued pumping deep in you, as he was almost on the edge of release himself. 

ʚ CHRIS PRINCE ɞ 

Chris was one of the few men on earth who actually knew how to please a woman. And you felt lucky to be his, as you had the privilege of spending all those intimate moments with him. But if you were honest, you had but one tiny complaint; his excessive working hours. You wouldn’t usually mind, but shit it was your worst nightmare whenever you really needed him pounding into you and he was nowhere to be found, just like right now. Chris was running late at a photoshooting and you felt like losing your mind. 

There you were, humping down one of the pillows on your bed, while wearing his jersey from last night’s game. You wanted to curse at him for not being there to take care of poor little you and yet you couldn’t really utter a single word, as your primary focus was to ride your pillow as best as you could to relieve yourself. And when that wasn’t enough for you, you lay back on the headboard, legs spread open and running your fingers on your drenched folds. You slid two fingers inside, pumping them in your pulsating cunt, moaning his name as you chased after that sweet high that had your mind turn completely blank. 

“How kind of you to loosen up yourself for me,” Chris whispered in your ear. “I really liked the view.” He kissed your lips. He was stunned to say the least. When he rushed back home from the photoshooting, he wouldn’t have expected to find you touching yourself in his jersey. He was standing by the doorframe, watching how your pussy eagerly welcomed your fingers in. He couldn’t just sit there and yet he couldn’t bring himself to inform you of his arrival — not quite yet — as he wished to enjoy the show for as long as he could. He stripped himself and stroked his cock at how magnificent you were, blessing his ears with your moans. 

Having you sit on your hands and knees, he hovered above you, sliding his cock between your tightly squeezed thighs, rubbing against your drenched cunt. One of his muscular arms was holding your body, while the other fondled your breast. “You couldn’t wait for me to return, could you?” he mocked you, as you moaned his name at the delightful friction. Abruptly, Chris shoved your face in the pillow, holding your hips in the air and thrusting his bulging cock inside your velvet walls. 

“Fuck—” he groaned at how tight you felt around him. His eyes fell upon his jersey which you were still wearing, gazing lustfully at his name on it; Prince 7. You moaned at how hard he thrusted in you, hitting all the right spots only he knew that would make you the perfect babbling mumbling mess for him. “I must be the luckiest person on earth, having the pleasure of fucking a slut like you,” he cooed, his cock repeatedly hitting your g spot, having your whole body twitch in ecstasy. 

You screamed in the pillow, while creaming on his cock, your filthy sounds filling the room. Chris would slap your ass and smirk at the red handprint he left there. He would kiss your neck and cover you in his marks, while telling you how good that little cunt of yours felt, as he viciously thrusted his cock inside. “Isn’t this what you wanted when you were touching yourself earlier?” he taunted, his voice breathless from the moment. “Isn’t this what you were imagining me do? Fuck you hard, just the way you like?” 

It was better than your little dirty imaginations. You couldn’t even begin to compare the difference between your fantasies and the way he rearranged your guts inside you right then and there. Every time you thought you had experienced the absolute pleasure he could possibly give you, he proved you wrong. But you loved that and he knew. He knew how much you loved when he treated you as nothing but a slut, for that’s what you were; his slut. Chris was aware of the difference between your staminas, yet he never failed to push you a little over your limit every time, making you hold on for a few more minutes. 

His cock was throbbing in your pussy, making you realise that he was close to his release. You were nearing your release as well. Your walls spasmed around him, coating him with your cum. He followed behind you a few minutes later, painting your insides white. And as usual he didn’t stop. No, he was only getting started. The night was young and your wearing his jersey made him feel a certain type of way, wanting to pound on you until he was sick of it. “C-Chris…” you called for him. “I-I can’t… It’s t-too much…” you whined. 

But he completely ignored you, continuing to thrust into you at full throttle. You were overwhelmed, feeling as if your heart would give out from the overstimulation any moment now. His cum from his previous orgasms was dripping down your thighs, your abused cunt was at his mercy, begging for him to stop. “Oh fuck—” he groaned, as he cummed again, pulling out and observing in awe how pretty you looked, before pecking your lips. 

ʚ MICHAEL KAISER ɞ 

“How do I look?” you asked him, turning around for him to admire you in the gorgeous long dress he had bought for you. 

“You look exquisite, darling,” Kaiser smiled at you. 

He had just returned the day before from a trip abroad with the other players of Bastard München, as they had an overseas match. As usual, he completely annihilated his opponents. But it was a shame that you couldn’t go with him. Kaiser, who loved to spoil you, came back with a mountain of presents; perfumes, bags, jewellery, clothes, shoes. And now, he was sitting on the armchair next to his bed in his black with white details robe fresh out of a bath and watched you try on everything he had bought you. He was pleased noticing how utterly beautiful you looked in every single one of them. 

And yet he thought that a different kind of attire would suit you even better. “Try this on for me, darling.” Hesitantly taking the jersey from his hand, you disappeared in his walk-in wardrobe to change. You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling his scent engulfing your body. Walking out, you approached him and slightly bent over, your eyes sparkling with anticipation for his answer to your question. 

He didn’t even wait for you to ask your question, when he pulled you to sit on his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Kaiser was already eating you out with his eyes, as his hands caressed your body, before ultimately resting on your waist. He slipped them underneath his jersey, his fingers running across your ass, when he suddenly stopped. His gaze darkened, as he realised you weren’t wearing any panties, a spark of lust lurking somewhere deep in his eyes, as he slapped your ass, earning a whimpering moan from you. Fixing his glasses on top of the bridge of his nose, he rested his head on his arm. “Ride my thigh.”, he ordered. 

You were frozen for a minute, still processing his words. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he stated in a strict tone, slapping you once more. Sitting properly on his thigh, you started humping yourself on it. Kaiser just comfortably sat there, watching you get yourself off on his thick thigh. He could feel your cunt becoming more and more drenched, curving a menacing smirk on his lips. You couldn’t even wish to deny the utter pleasure you got from the moment. And yet, you longed for his touch. It could be as simple as cupping your cheek and kissing your lips. Or it could be as bad as grabbing your waist and making you ride him himself. 

However, Kaiser did no such thing. “I’m not going to touch you at all,” he stated to clear any misunderstanding from your part. You whined at his statement, yet continued humping yourself on his thigh. Your mouth was hanging open, as moan after moan rolled off your tongue. You felt the oxygen in your lungs decreasing, as you were feeling overwhelmed. He stayed true to his word. He didn’t touch you, not even once. He didn’t even bounce his leg to add some friction. And that drove you over the edge of insanity, feeling as if you could lose your mind any minute now. 

“Don’t slow down now,” he taunted. “I know you’re close. I can feel your cunt pulsing.”

He was right, you were indeed about to cum. But your strength betrayed you. You felt numb after only humping yourself on his thigh. “Kaiser… Please… Touch me…” you whined, hoping that he might take some pity in the pathetic little you and drive you to your orgasm. “Only you can make me cum…”

Ridding himself of his robe, he lifted you up and threw you on the bed. Taking his glasses off, which he left on the nightstand, he climbed up, hovering above you, looking down at you as a predator looking at its prey. He attacked your neck, biting your flesh hard, making you scream, whilst his left hand slid down your body and came in contact with your pussy. He rubbed his fingers on your drenched folds, then violently thrusted them inside, making your breath hitch and your back arch. Within minutes, you cummed on his fingers, hearing him evilly laugh at you. 

He didn’t give you time to take a break. He rolled you on your stomach, spread your legs and slightly lifted your hips up. He stroked his throbbing cock a few times, before aligning himself with your hole. “Wait, Kaiser—” He thrusted hard into your cunt that gladly swallowed him up. His thrusts were violent, as he almost completely pulled out, before slamming forcefully himself back in. He was holding tightly onto your right bicep and the back of your throat, holding you down to take all of him. 

Kaiser 10; if you wanted to blame someone — or more accurately something — that would be his jersey. The moment you walked out wearing his large jersey that barely covered your ass, he thought you were the most breathtaking woman in the world. However, his possessiveness soon enough usurped control over his body and here we are now. You were screaming on top of your lungs, tightly holding onto the bed sheets, as Kaiser ravaged your cunt. 

You could feel your ass burning red from his aggressive thrusts and yet you felt so good, you couldn’t stop coating him with your slick. He noticed you crying and couldn’t help but chuckle, as he leant down and kissed a tear away. You were whimpering, asking him — no, begging him to be a tiny bit gentler. And as expected, he outrageously condemned your pleas, whilst sucking one of his bite marks on your neck. “No matter what you say, you’re loving this. Your cunt is tightened perfectly around me, my little whore,” he cooed in your ear. 

He made you cum again and again, to the point where you couldn’t think a single thing anymore. Your body reacted instinctively to him. You were but a whiny moaning mess, mumbling incoherent words along with his name. Kaiser couldn’t have been more pleased with this outcome. “Fuck—” he moaned, as he thrust one more time and orgasmed, his head falling back, cumming deep in your abused cunt.

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

#୨୧｡˚₊♡꒰ strawchocoberry ꒱♡₊˚｡୨୧ #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock thirst #shidou ryusei #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei smut #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #barou shoei #barou shoei x reader #barou shoei smut #chris prince #chris prince x reader #chris prince smut #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser smut

[hyuckiefluff]

may i request a jaemin x femreader where he’s just fucking her dumb and she’s trying to say that her family is downstairs or in the living room? if you’re comfortable with it ofc !!

a/n: first of all THANK YOU SO MUCH for requesting! i would’ve probably disappeared for another two months if it weren’t for this lol! i didn’t know if you wanted something short and sweet or for me to go all out but hopefully you like this! i had fun writing it and it made me revisit my jaemin brain rot so yeaa

for a bit of context, i decided to write this as if jaem and fem!reader are already in a relationship and jaem is the picture of charm and good manners and he could never do anything wrong in his in-laws' eyes but he’s secretly a freak lol (also didn’t wanna make it too long so things move a bit fast)

wc: 1.7k ish

content: just pure smut tbh

warnings: cursing, oral sex and fingering (fem receiving), creampie, loud sex, marking, usage of pet names like princess and pretty girl, boob grabbing

m list

When Jaemin walked into your place your parents welcomed him grinning like they hit the jackpot with their son in law. Your mom invited him to stay for dinner, and your dad gave him a solid friendly pat on the back. But his mind was upstairs, where you remained clueless about his arrival, thinking he was off to visit some relatives.

When he walks into your room, you’re lying on your stomach with your headphones on and wearing nothing but your panties and one of his oversized shirts. The whole scene feels like the start of one of his wet dreams, and he's seriously struggling not to pounce on you. Instead, he sneaks up from behind and gently slips the headphones off. You're not the jumpy type, so you casually turn your head, half-expecting it was your mom barging in. But when you see Jaemin smiling at you, your whole demeanor changes. You don't waste a second, practically wrapping yourself around your boyfriend. He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh that vibrates through you. 

“Missed me, princess?” you responded by kissing his lips, you only meant to give him a soft peck, but he couldn’t contain himself any longer so in no time he had you flush against the mattress and his warm body.

His hands immediately found their way inside your shirt, a delicious moan coming out of him when he felt you weren’t wearing a bra. He would go crazy if he didn’t have you right now, but he also wanted to make you feel good. He pulled away from you slowly, biting your lower lip in the process. Then he started crawling down your body, not missing the way you tensed up as he positioned his face right in front of your sensitive area.

You knew where this was going but you had to remind yourself that you two weren’t alone.

“Jaem… my parents are-…” your words were interrupted as his mouth attached to your core over your panties. The smell and taste of you was driving him feral and he couldn’t bother to even remove the thin piece of clothing. All you could do was gasp and pull his hair.

“Be good for your boyfriend that missed you so much…” he coaxed, his nose nuzzling against you. Your thighs instinctively closed around his head “Don’t hold back, let me hear how pretty you sound”  his warm breath sent shivers racing across your skin. He continued sucking and kitten-licking your pussy, the insistent way in which his tongue was pushing against your entrance in a teasing manner threatening to push you over the edge. He groaned when he felt you weakly push his head away.

In one fluid motion, he discarded your panties, a low whistle escaping him as he saw how they clung to your slickness. His dick twitched uncomfortably in his sweatpants. "Fucking mine," he growled softly before diving between your folds. His tongue and lips latched on your clit like a magnet, producing a chorus of wet sounds that were nothing short of vulgar. 

Despite your efforts to restrain yourself and keep quiet, as soon as he added a finger you were reduced to a whimpering mess. You brought a hand to your mouth, teeth sinking in to stifle the noises, but Jaemin didn’t like that. He pulled away and the sight of his glistening lips coated with your essence caused you to involuntarily tighten around nothing.

"I said..." His voice dipped several tones and his pupils dilated, darkening his eyes in an almost eerie manner "Let me hear you," he demanded. 

"Please… Jaem, my parents are downstairs," you gasped, breathless. He looked unamused by your pleas but still seemed to be contemplating something. 

Then suddenly, he withdrew from you entirely. You thought he would listen to you, so it took you by surprise when instead he discarded his sweatpants and boxers. His erection sprung free in a somewhat comical way. The tip was flushed with urgency, the veins and girth caused you to whimper. Your mouth watered with the desire to take him into your mouth, but Jaemin had different intentions.

"Then let's give 'em a show, princess," he grinned, planting a kiss on your inner thigh before pulling your legs up and positioning himself between them.

He entered you slowly and you couldn't help but whimper at the stretch. His lips curled up at the sounds you were making, knowing it took this little to make you lose all restraint was amusing him more than he cared to admit. He bottomed out right away, giving you no time to adjust. Though he was trying to keep it together, he couldn’t help but let out a string of guttural moans whenever you clenched around his dick. Desperation drove his hips to meet yours with sharp, urgent movements.

"So good for me," he murmured, gaze fixed on the way your pussy took him so well. Biting his lip, he looked up at your face contorted with pleasure. Your flushed appearance, eyes nearly shut, and lips subject to the mercy of your teeth. This is how you looked prettiest to him.

He hiked up your shirt, granting himself an unobstructed view of your boobs. He reached his hand to your right breast and caressed the soft skin there, his fingers toying with your hardened nipple. He relished your reactions to his every touch, loving the way you tried so hard not to be loud.

“Jaem-…fuck-… me," you moaned, his name coming out as a blur amidst a string of curses and cries.

"I am, baby," he quipped, though the strain in his voice betrayed the struggle to keep his composure. The way your walls clenched around him was driving him wild. The grip of his other hand tightened on your hips, urgency escalating as he thrust into you with an almost feral rhythm.

The sound of your skins slapping was obscene and it resonated throughout your room. If your parents walked by your door they would definitely hear and know what you two were up to. You wondered what would happen if they did, would they stop allowing Jaemin to come into your room. Would their trust for him vanish? Those questions made you anxious but the boy didn’t seem to care. And you were soon to follow him, because the way he was fucking you right now was too good.

He lifted your leg higher, adjusting his hips to hit that sweet spot he knew you liked. Your eyes involuntarily rolled back as he plunged deeper into you like this. He was so familiar with your body, knowing exactly where to touch to unravel you. A smirk played on his lips as he tenderly caressed your hips, a stark contrast to the rough way he was thrusting into you.

"You drive me so fucking crazy," he groaned, his rhythm faltering slightly as he leaned in for a messy kiss. Your mouths met in a fervent dance, his tongue swirling around yours, teeth grazing against each other's lips. He devoured every sound that escaped your lips.

Just as you were catching your breath, he abruptly increased his pace, catching you off guard and causing a loud moan to erupt from you, the sudden change overwhelming your senses.

“There we go, that’s my pretty girl” he murmured against your jaw, leaving a wet trail from there to your neck where he started sucking and marking you. Only in places that he knew you would be able to cover. After all, he knew you had to keep up the innocent facade with your parents.

Oh, if only they knew you let your boyfriend fuck you every day under their roof.

“Jaemin! Fuck!” He sneaked a hand down to where your bodies were connected and focused on your neglected clit. His fingers and the insistent thrusts of his hips obliterated any caution you had, leaving you too overstimulated to care about your parents overhearing.

But then a call from downstairs brought reality crashing back in “Dinner’s ready, kids! Come down!”

Jaemin's movements halted mid thrust, his eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and panic, mirroring the same emotions that played across your face. You gave his arm a quick slap, the unspoken message in your eyes was clear: pull out, now. Yet, your body had other plans, clenching involuntarily around him as if begging for more, and he shut his eyes tight. You felt way too good to stop now.

“We’ll be right down!” He yelled, and instead of pulling out he picked you up, and switched positions. He knew riding him would make you come fast.

From his seated position, he looked up at you through his long lashes, a silent plea in his gaze. It didn't take much for your resolve to crumble. Your hands settled on his shoulders, grasping onto the firm sinews of his muscles as he wrapped his arms around you. As soon as you started moving, you saw him slowly lose his composure. This angle made each thrust reach deeper within you, “How the fuck do you… feel so good, hm-.... every time,” your eyes fluttered open and you caught a glimpse of the tension etching his brow and the way his teeth clamped onto his lower lip. He was getting closer to his limit, just as much as you were.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” you breathe out, fingers tracing along his cheek. All he can manage is a throaty moan, too lost in the sensation of being this deep inside you to form coherent words.

“I’m-…I’m close”” he whimpered, half lidded eyes locking onto yours. Your rhythm starts to stumble a bit, your pace getting uneven as you get close to your orgasm too. He caught onto this quickly grabbing your hips to guide your moves, and every time your hips met, the sounds resonated through the whole room.

A couple more thrusts, and you're there– caught in the riptide of an orgasm that slams into you so hard that tears gather at the corners of your eyes. Jaemin's not far behind, a few more sloppy thrusts and he's right there with you. The feeling of his cum filling you and your walls clenching around as he emptied himself inside you, it was a sticky mess, but he fucking loved it.

“C’mon, let’s not make your mom wait.” He said after catching his breath, giving your hips a slight pat.

“Jaemin… I swear if they heard…” 

“Yeah, yeah… You know they love me too much to think I would ever soil their pretty daughter like that.” He winked and kissed you one more time.

ps: feel free to request more!

#nct x reader #nct dream fic #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenario #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabbles #na jaemin #nct moodboard #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin moodboard #jaemin x you #jaemin x y/n #hyuckiereqs

[paegei]

MOANER, GROANER, OR WHIMPERER ?

what sounds do the seventeen members make in bed ?

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

a/n: GUYS i am so sorry i haven't written in so long ╯︿╰ i lose motivation for things VERY easily. anywho,,, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to send them in ! ( just be prepared for me to take my time to respond ϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶ )

MOANER:

jeonghan:

when i tell you this man has the PRETTIEST moans i mean it. borderline angelic. every noise that comes out of his mouth has you on the verge of orgasm LITERALLY. he's upstaging you i'm sorry !

joshua:

the things i would do to hear him moaning.... 28:50 of the youngji interview is EMBEDDED in my brain. def more on the quiet side, his moans are pretty low in volume, but he is for SURE right next to your ear cuz he knows how much his moans affect you.

jun:

pathetic moans. PATHETIC. loud, whiny, GUTTURAL moans. he also has no shame. and i mean that. does not care how loud he's being. he has to let you know how good you make him feel, who cares about who hears ? also def makes those ah- ah- ah- sounds before he cums

minghao:

hao's moans are like josh's, low in volume but close enough for you to hear. gives me the vibes of someone who doesn't make much noise in bed, he prefers to focus on your blabbering, but when his sounds grace your ears, it is HEAVENLY. ( his moans are borderline whimpers too just saying )

seungkwan:

DEEP. DEEP. SO DEEP. yk that one good to me performance where he said "make some noise" in his deep ass voice ? yeah, that's his tone in bed. moans coming straight from the chest LAWDDDDDD. was pretty shy at first when it came to making noise, but after seeing how badly it affected you ( because who wouldn't go insane hearing them ), he just goes AT IT. unless he's in sub mode and is borderline sobbing

GROANER:

seungcheol:

bro. words could not describe how hot this man sounds ( i would know we're actually married ). GUTTERAL groaning. genuinely sounds like he is working out ＞︿＜ lets out a groan every time he pulls out, followed by a whimper when he shoves his cock back in :/

wonwoo:

practically inaudible with how deep his groans are. all you would be able to hear is this deep grumble. rarely likes making sounds in bed as he prefers to be all ears for your moans, but hey, sometimes good sex makes a man whimper okay there's nothing wrong with that :3

vernon:

kinda like jun, in the aspect that his groans have a pathetic tilt to them. every sound he makes, no matter how hard he tries to keep them in, just ends up sounding absolutely RUINED. im talking you'd think he was crying from how desperate he sounds ( maybe he is who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

chan:

he's right on the barrier between groans and gasps. OMLLLL HIS LITTLE GASP WHEN HE FIRST SLIPS IN !!!!!!!!!!! no shame either he wants to let the whole world know he's getting the best pussy of his LIFE. anime girl ~gah~ kinda noises IM SORRY

WHIMPERER:

jihoon:

dooooont care what you think. he WHIMPERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! his whimpers are very low in volume however, he knows that if the guys ever found out the little noises he makes for you he would be a goner. tries his hardest to hold the whines back, much to your dismay, but at least then you get the gorgeous sight of him biting his lip till it bleeds (/▽＼)

seokmin:

man does not care how embarrassing his sounds are he NEEDS you to know how good you feel. he is the EPITONE of whimpers. men be afraid to moan in their girls ear, but seokmin is sobbing out "f-fuck oh m- oh my god- 's good, 's good-" and other barely audible curses :3

mingyu:

his whimpers are WET sorrynotsorry. im saying he's borderline drooling. dumb puppy can't help it if your cunt feels so good :( sobs, cries, just the most desperate and shaky words tumbling from his mouth ( if he can still form words is a different story ).

ALL OF THE ABOVE:

soonyoung:

does not give a FUCK what noise he is making, he's just going for it. somehow sounds like whimpers, cries and growls all in one ?? also yes 80% of the time he is growling but are we suprised. just says any word that comes to his mind too. bro does nawt understand why people hold in their moans... if it feels good, it feels good you know ?

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #svt #svt x reader #svt smut #scoups x reader #scoups smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #joshua x reader #joshua smut #junhui x reader #junhui smut #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #woozi x reader #woozi smut #minghao x reader #minghao smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #dk x reader #dk smut #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan smut #vernon x reader #vernon smut

[tender-rosiey]

“ETERNITY IS IN YOUR EYES LIKE YOU’RE IN MY HEART”

— the moment when gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji knew they wanted to spend their entire life with you

a/n: I will upload a bsd version of this soon! <3

GOJO SATORU: when you held him after suguru’s death while pressing soft kisses to the top of his head. vulnerability was something gojo despised, but the way it was so easy, so comforting to show it in front of you held his heart in a special type of way. you always know how he feels and you somehow always say the right thing. even if you don’t say something, your presence alone grounds him.

he feels exposed around you and it doesn’t scare him. instead, he finds himself getting lost in your embrace, his safe place, time after time. he yearns for it and he knows and accepts that his heart belonged to you from the start and till the end of time. so when he does get released out of the realm, he doesn’t notice nor question that he teleported right between your arms.

GETO SUGURU: when he found you cuddling mimiko and nanako. the three of you were fast asleep, but there is no mistaking the protective hold you have on the girls, even when you’re asleep. no wonder they look so content and safe like nothing can touch them in your arms. he still remembers how you didn’t hesitate in welcoming them to the family and as time went by, you were their joy and someone they adored, not more than he does though.

he can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face as he chuckles helplessly. he walks towards you and covers you and the girls with the blanket, but not without pressing a loving kiss to your forehead with a gentle whisper of an “I love you” and caressing your ring finger. he has to know the size after all.

NANAMI KENTO: when he came back home and found you trying to bake something for him as a surprise. you’re moving around the kitchen with such determination and concentration that you don’t notice him. so he is left to admire how you work, your delicate hands, your small smile as you think of how it will turn out, and your endearing reactions to certain things like the batter getting on your nose.

he also finds himself admiring every single part of you—till this day he doesn’t know how he got so lucky. it also brings into light just how much you work and that fact that you do it with love does it for him. it doesn’t feel forced; it’s genuine and full of tenderness. so he decides with a smile that your finger has been bare for far too long.

RYOMEN SUKUNA: when you stood up for him against the people who cursed him out even when they had every right to. he is no good man nor does he need someone—anyone—to defend him. but he didn’t feel as irritated as he thought he would. instead, he felt prideful but confused. why? he asks you later and you tell him that it just happened; you didn’t think twice before responding to them. 'it just happened' he repeats in his head.

he is a terrible guy, rough and cruel. he is someone who lives solely for his own desires and self so he is surprised when he finds his head on your lap that day and his hand is holding onto your own, not to keep you from running but to ground himself. it’s pathetic, he thinks, when he realizes that he can’t live without you anymore.

FUSHIGURO TOJI: when he was going to get a glass of water, but your sleepy form held onto him with a soft plea of ‘don’t leave’. even though the action is so simple, it tugged at his heart strings and he realized just how much of a hold you have on him. almost instantly, he got back to bed and pulled you close into his chest.

he murmured, “never leaving you, doll; that’s the last thing you gotta worry ‘bout.” he always denied having a soft spot for you, but the fact that you want him and need him as much as he does for you affected him more than any other. he thinks that being wrapped around your pretty little finger isn’t something bad like he initially thought so he is okay paying quite the sum on the ring so he can see your smile.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will send my cat after you

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto suguru #geto x you #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x you #nanami kento #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna imagine #sukuna fluff #toji x reader #toji drabbles #toji fluff #gojou satoru x reader

[gorejo]

▸ CONFESSIONS IN SECRET. - GETO SUGURU

synopsis: suguru always wears an extra hair tie. and when he’s confronted about it, with it oddly stretched out, loosely hanging from his wrist, he’ll always respond that it was for him. no one has seen him using it, not even his closest people, all except one.

content: 2.3 k words. afab!reader, this was genuinely not proofread, just wrote on the whim because it's geto suguru. she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, mentions of fingering, cunnilingus, reader is suguru's girlfriend, pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). but very brief forbes30!gojo cameo. minors do not interact.

Geto Suguru has long hair — his most prominent trait just after his gentle smile. His hair is gently combed through every morning, each strand healthy and shiny, and it's carefully taken care of as he puts his hair into a half bun or fully tied — a day-to-day preference depending on how manageable his hair is. 

"What's the mood for today?" announcing your presence, crossing your arms, as you leaned against the wall, watching your boyfriend style his hair — shirtless and toned, with his sweats loose at his waists, the pretty sculpture of his body making you gulp down your saliva.

"Good morning, princess," Geto gently chuckled as he finished up his hair, his arms flexing with every move of his fingers, "you feeling okay?" he asked looking through the mirror, triceps deliciously caved as he leaned forward against the counter.

"a little tired, but nothing I can't handle," you groaned, taking a step towards him, "woke up because the bed felt cold," you pouted into his warm back.

"'m sorry," Geto stated as he turned around to cup your face, your arms automatically moving towards his neck, pulling him closer to you, "let me make it up to you with breakfast?" he suggested as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"breakfast as in?" Playfully eyeing him as you chased after his soft lips, hearing him lightly groan into your mouth as his hands traveled down the scope of your back, finding refuge to mound your ass.

Teasingly pulling at his lower lips, you wanted more of him. Your appetite for your boyfriend will never satiate, especially when he looked so damn fine with his eyes half-lidded, brows furrowed as his breaths huffed while the tent in his sweats pressed against your lower stomach.

You did feel hungry, a nice toast with eggs and coffee sounded delightful — well that is, just after having the boyfriend special in bed.

You stopped the kiss for a brief moment, your voice sultry yet almost whining, "let's go back inside Suguru —"

But rudely stopping you, he suddenly pressed his finger against your lips, smirking as if this didn't faze him.

"breakfast as in food, angel," smiling as he shook his head, "your stomach is grumbling, I can feel it."

"But Suguru," you whined, tiptoeing to press your lips against his, desperate for more, only to be met with him pushing you out of the restroom, arms tight around your waist as he led you out with your feet on top of his.

And waddling to the kitchen, laughing as he pressed light kisses all over your face, softly biting your cheeks as the padding of his feet tapped against the cold kitchen floor, "you can have me later, I promise," he reassured.

Another fact people can’t seem to miss, aside from his gentle appeal and the softness of his voice — the one that makes all the ladies simply swoon when he passes by — is that Suguru always wears a black hair tie on his wrist, one that is a little different his usual. 

In public, he’s never used it but throughout the days, it's become noticeable that the band's been slightly stretched out. People simply assumed it was a spare one for himself. 

But occasionally he’ll get asked if he carries around that hair tie for his girlfriend, teasing if it's a subtle territorial mark to show that only but a prepared and dutiful boyfriend, like Suguru, would do. He’ll simply laugh it off, the sweet and calming one that makes his eyes form delicate crescent moons, 

“Nah, it’s for me,” he’ll answer while lightly squeezing your hand and smiling — a deliberate move. 

“But I’ve never seen you use it,” his best friend commented, not minding much attention to the conversation besides scrolling through his phone, thighs comfortably spread out whilst chewing on some candy on the couch. 

And suddenly, as if he's thought of a valid idea, Gojo moved his sunglasses down, just to look at you while pointing his half-eaten candy towards your boyfriend, one cheek already full of sweets, 

“Be careful, it's guys like Suguru you want to keep an eye on,” Satoru chimed, “it’s the perfect scenario don’t you think? A handsome guy gives a needing girl a hair tie, and boom she falls in love with him? Who’s to say she won’t be a crazy one, in this day and age,” Gojo shuddered at the thought, his eyes going back to his phone screen.

"so is that why you're still single, Satoru," Geto rolled his eyes as he smirked, "because people think you're crazy? or is it because you're still hung up over your ex from I don't know, eight years ago?"

"your boyfriend is being so rude right now," Gojo pouted, sulking on the couch as he murmured, "... and fuck off, I'm not..."

"for someone worth that much, you sure think so simply and live in such delusion," Geto countered, "then why are you always trying to snoop through Shoko's phone?"

"I do not!" Satoru's cheeks heated, sitting upright to softly mumble, "you talk so loud for someone who was on the same boat as me not too long ago."

“At least I got off it, while you—”

"be nice, Suguru" you chuckled, squeezing Geto's thigh as you smiled at his counterpart sulking on the couch, "It takes a crazy to realize one, don't you think Satoru?"

Satoru deadpanned, "gasp, you're even worse than the devil himself."

Geto chuckled as he crossed his arms, his gaze briefly moved towards you before closing his eyes to swallow his saliva, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he released a heavy breath out through his nose, “Though I appreciate you thinking I’m handsome, Satoru, it’s just good for the hair —"

and taking hold of your hand that was placed on his thigh, interlocking his rougher fingers with yours, "doesn’t break any strands, that’s all.” 

"sure," rolling his eyes as he slouched into the couch, "it's just good for the hair," Gojo begrudgingly mimicked his best friend.

"I bet you use it for something kinky," Gojo playfully snickered.

But Geto Suguru was no liar. 

Sure, he wasn’t the most open about his feelings, occasionally throwing in harmless white lies to avoid confrontation or sappy conversations. And nor was he willing to share his life with just about anyone. But when it came to things that dealt with you, well he liked things to be in private — and who can blame him? 

Because most definitely that hair tie was for him.

But unknown to Satoru, Geto impatiently shook his thighs, fingers tapping against the couch, his thoughts running wild as he tried closing his eyes, his mouth feeling dry as he caught a glimpse of you next to him. His thoughts, his primal desires always pointed to one thing alone — you. 

Starting from the moment you entered his apartment, closing the door with his foot, he’ll have you pushed against the wall, quickly stripping you of your clothes as he kissed you all the way to his room. Hand placed behind your head, while the other cupped your face. you’ll always feel his breath starting to pick up through his nose when he was starting to get needy, longingly groaning into the kiss as he fell onto the bed with you.

“Fuck,” Geto hissed as he tried to unbuckle his belt, lips fighting to stay attached with yours as he tried to breathe, only to loosen up when he felt your reassuring hand — soft and gentle — travel down his chest, down to his buckle. Like it was your second nature, you loosen his pants, putting down the zipper as he pushed his pants off.

Most of the time, he’ll be able to strip off his clothes easily, just after skillfully taking off yours, taking no second to waste to get naked. But today he seemed rather more impatient — clumsy almost.

"I think I'm going to bust," Geto groaned as his lips chased after yours, brows furrowed as he tried to take off his cotton shirt.

"w-why are you in such a rush today, I'm n-not going anywhere, " you moaned out as his lips trailed down your neck, your fingers combing through his hair, tugging as you felt his teeth gently mark up your skin.

"forgive me, sweetheart" trailing his tongue up to your jaw, his arms caging you in, his breath breezing against your heated cheeks, "just been bricked up ever since Satoru wouldn't shut his mouth."

His lips were pressed against yours, his soft tongue finding entrance into your mouth, muffling your moans as you cupped his face, his teeth gently pulling your lower lip as he broke the kiss.

"don't think I didn't see you clench your thighs when he was talking, princess,” suguru teased.

And when he was needy, pupils dilated and dark, where his voice was low and gravely despite holding the same sweetness, his hold on your body more firm and leading, you know you'll have to stuff your face with a pillow if he allows. If not, you’ll have to do whatever you can to quiet yourself as he makes his way down the valley of your naked breasts, holding your arms down as he places light kisses just below your mounds,

“Stay,” he’ll softly order, his breath tickling your skin, “let me hear you,” he’ll groan while mildly dry humping the mattress on his way down. 

“Suguru,” you wontonly moaned out his name, the grip on your hands loosening as he concentrated in adoring the neglected portions of your body, the longing call of his name making his cock throb in his boxers.

“Nuh uh,” he’ll warn when your arms try to cover your face, “what did I say,” he’ll reprimand — never was Geto harsh, but his words always held weight through his gaze. 

Seeing you listen, fisting the bedsheet for security, “That’s my girl,” he’ll whisper, his breath slightly hitching as he reveled at your naked mess. 

God must surely exist if he created someone like you, Geto wondered as he licked his lips.

And kissing down your thighs, situating himself in between your legs as his tongue sloppily trekked down your skin, feeling your muscles tense and back arch at his touch, with his strong arms anchoring your hips down, he’ll place a sweet kiss on your hardened bud, closing his eyes as he hummed into the kiss,

“You taste so sweet, you know that?” Geto praised you, “wish you could just see what I can see,” your boyfriend murmured, his eyes fixated on your wet cunt before him, his mouth salivating like a starved animal just ready to swipe his tongue down your folds and really get to taste you — to devour you.

“Please,” you begged, “I want you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he knowingly hushed, quickly getting on his strong thighs, the toned canvas of his chest and pectorals highlighted before you, as the light dentures of his hips that beautifully caved in with his muscles made your mouth dry as you appreciated his majestic figure, specifically as you watched his biceps curl up to his hair, to throw out his used hair tie to release his locks to fall handsomely down his chest.

“you’ll have me soon,” Geto teased as he quickly retied his hair, with that one, “just give me a second, pretty,” he stated just before swiftly lifting up your leg to kiss every fiber of your skin as he licked your ankle.

"Sugu—"

and quickly leaning down, hooking his large hands behind your knees to push down your thighs against your breasts, the softness of his bangs lightly brushing against the sides of your cheeks as he kissed your lips, his tongue licking against your lips, while your lungs burned for oxygen,

“Let me taste you a bit,” Geto managed to ask in between kisses, "I'll make it worth it."

Feeling you nod, yielding to him as you groaned into his mouth, feeling his hardened length throb against your pussy as he hovered over you.

“Atta girl,” Geto praised as he chuckled at your impatience, leaving a loving kiss to your forehead, “after this, I’m all yours.”

Geto knew you from inside and out. He knew exactly what to do to make you fold. What made you squeeze on his finger, the wetness of your pussy gushing as he thrust inside you, repeatedly hitting that spot. He’s identified the specific spots on your body that made your toes curl, and your sweet lips spread out as you angelically moan out his name. He’s gotten you figured you, but that has never stopped him from continually learning, continually searching for ways to make you cum even more, even harder. 

So Suguru kisses you, trailing his tongue and lips to your neck as he purposefully groans in your ear while his thumbs rub circles on your hips, easing the tension building up, the coil in your stomach almost unbearable to soberly manage. so, your hands find refuge in his hair. 

Your boyfriend smirks when he feels your fingers lightly scratch his scalp as you slowly tighten your grip on his hair the more he travels down your body. 

And soon confronted with the same scene, like deja vu, he’ll blow on his precious cunt, glistening so prettily for him under the dull moonlight. He’s sure he can almost see his reflection through your wetness and his mouth salivates as he centers himself down in between your thighs, spreading out your folds as he hisses at the sight of your pulsing hole — so cute, so tight, so rightfully his.

"o-oh god, sugu," you mewled, your plush thighs pressing against his ears as he split you open with his strength, unwavering in his gentle dominance over you.

And he'll watch you as he latches his lips to fully enclose the space between you and him, his tongue messily swirling around your clit and his mouth sucking in all of you, while a trail of spit leaked down the corner of his mouth down his chin.

he’ll feel your trembling fingers tightly grip his hair as he furrows his brows at the pain, watching your back arch and breaths desperately hitch as you push yourself deeper into his mouth.

But Suguru doesn’t worry if you pull too hard, more so, he welcomes it. 

Because again, your boyfriend was no liar. 

The hair tie is good for the hair, it won’t break any of his strands at all. 

comments: i couldn't get it out of my system thinking about geto having a special hair tie just for when he goes down on you — man really said, no distraction needed. LMAOOO imagine gojo finding out the reason why geto just casually wears it around, he'll absolutely die HHAHAHA

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #darkmode.

[saerins]

𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing

notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3

summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.

“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”

it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.

when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.

besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.

“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.

“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)

nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.

“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”

okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.

“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”

that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”

nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.

“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.

while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.

“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.

for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.

someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.

but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.

he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.

“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”

nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.

you win about 300 tickets.

“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.

you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”

no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.

“what’re you betting?”

you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”

nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”

grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”

whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.

have you ever even set foot in here before?

nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.

throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.

your 64 versus nagi’s 154.

“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”

you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”

nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.

“you don’t want anything?”

nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”

(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)

but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”

turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.

you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.

“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”

nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.

“why’re you looking away?”

you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”

“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.

a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.

“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.

something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.

when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.

somehow, his feet follows you.

it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.

“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”

nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?

“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.

by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.

when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”

nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.

“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.

but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”

you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”

you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.

nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”

the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?

meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.

“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”

the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.

“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.

nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.

reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).

that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.

“oi, nagi.”

nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.

“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.

even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.

looks like he never needed to worry after all.

#bllk x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #bllk fluff #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi x you #nagi x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #nagi seishiro x y/n #seishiro nagi x y/n #nagi seishiro fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

[k4vehrtz]

⸻ YOURS, MINES, OURS

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! nanami k. / m! reader

warnings — mentions of blood due to a minor injury, soft -> mean -> soft dom! nanamin, cucking ergo exhibition bc kuna def wants to fuck you, possessive! nanami, crybaby! vessel! reader, use and variations of the word slut, established dom/sub dynamic, hole inspection, light masochism, dacryphilia, shower sex, minor daddy / sir k., implied age gap n zero prep . ✦ . wc — 1.5k . ✦ . notes — less of a fic more of a lengthy thirst bc i'm still sick but i really wanted to deliver somethin for you guys so forgive me this once 💔 happy holidays 🎄

it’s 6:15 p.m. when nanami wanders into your garden, still clad in his work attire. the first two buttons of his shirt are undone, his tie hanging loosely around his collar, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. he’s somewhere in between tired and exhausted; dark circles rimming his almost sunken eyes but he’s not quite ready to pass out yet. he won’t give in to the heaviness of his eyes until he sees you.

and he does see you — you’re crouched in a corner, knees buried in a miniature mountain of soil, completely and utterly enthralled by the flowers in front of you.

orchids. a dark pink in the centre, although their petals are a light pink that fades into a pink-stained white colour. they vary in intensity but altogether, they’re beautiful and pink.

“they’re resilient little things, aren’t they?” he muses, his voice thick with drowsiness. which catches you entirely off-guard and has you flinching away, scraping the palm of your hand on a nearby rose bush in the process.

you wince, brows pulled together and lips jutting forward in a pout. nanami feels his heart drop, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach instantaneously.

“fuck,” he curses, a rough edge to his voice, “i’m sorry my love,” as he crouches beside you, cradling your injured hand in his much bigger, warmer palms. it’s not nearly as bad as it seemed at first; a singular scrape stretching across the expanse of your palm. but nanami does his due diligence, wiping away what little blood had appeared with his handkerchief.

“i should’ve made my—” he stops himself mid-sentence and lowers his gaze, arching a brow over the rounded rim of his glasses. “…presence known” he continues, staring pointedly at the tent in your shorts.

warmth creeps up your throat, spreading across the bridge of your nose to either cheek and the tips of your ears as you promptly cross your legs. to which nanami presses his lips together, blowing air through his nostrils.

“that — ” he starts, grimacing, “that must be uncomfortable,” as he takes a seat on the dirt floor of the greenhouse and pulls you into his lap. and you open your mouth to protest against it; he’s going to ruin his favourite slacks. but he presses a long, thick finger to your lips before you can get a word out.

he clicks his tongue, his tone morphing from the saccharine sweetness that you’re used to. nanami isn’t, by any means, harsh with you but his near-silent disapproval is enough to have you curling into yourself.

“i’m sorry,” the words tumble past your glossy lips before you even process them. and nanami responds immediately: “i’m sorry who?” his voice becomes more and more like a rumble as tiredness continues to pull at his sore muscles. but you humour him anyway, “i’m sorry sir,” which earns you a much more content-sounding rumble from the elder man.

“that’s my boy — now let’s get you taken care of inside where it’s warmer.”

skin–to–skin; nanami’s pressed firmly against you and you can’t keep your hands to yourself. cold fingers instinctively go to the curves and contours of his muscled torso; tracing the outline of it all while you chew on your lower lip. it’s hard to tell who’s more enamoured by the other but if you had to think about it (like really hard) you’d say nanami is.

“what are you thinking so hard about silly boy?”

your nose crinkles and a muscle in nanami’s jaw twitches at the sound of the third voice. it’s nothing like the silky-smooth voice that makes your heart flip-flop in your chest. but it has its appeal and is welcomed nevertheless.

“‘kuna i’m not —” you try but he interjects: “liar.” and you have half the mind to argue with him but nanami clears his throat, thick finger curling beneath your chin so that you’re made to meet his gaze.

he’s staring down at you, warm water from the shower overhead dripping from the edges of his hair. his gaze intent as he pushes you against the cold tiles on the wall. there’s a stark contrast between the two temperatures; one that makes goosebumps appear on your skin and provides a twisted sense of pleasure. but that too is welcomed.

“none of that,” and he clicks his tongue again, his distaste for the mouth that had appeared on the back of your palm as clear as day. sukuna, though, grits his teeth and you can’t help but think to yourself that the only thing they have in common is their distaste for each other.

“your blind devotion to a man who could never satiate you is beyond my comprehension,” sukuna smirks, “a slut like you needs a real man to fuck them right.”

a slut.

an onslaught of tears blurs your vision and nanami leans in, warm breath fanning your face. then he sucks in another breath, taking in the floral scent of your shampoo, before exhaling slowly. “did you hear that baby? ‘kuna thinks you’re a slut.” he whispers, emphasizing the nickname in the most condescending way he could. and you nod quietly, obediently in response. staring up at him with those big, innocent eyes of yours that looks the prettiest when it’s wet with unshed tears.

“i know my boy’s got a greedy hole on him,” he continues matter–of–factly, “i mean look at his cock, started leaking back in the greenhouse ‘cause of my voice and now it’s fully hard because you called him a slut.”  completely unbothered by the quiet whimper you let out. 

and silence — sukuna doesn’t say anything, lips pulled into a tight line. but this does little to discourage nanami who spins you around so that you’re pressed against the tiles, sensitive pecs to glazed clay and your back to him. then he’s pulling your legs apart, spreading your cheeks so that your winking hole is exposed to him.

“in fact, let’s both look at this slutty hole that i fill with my cum as often as i like because, if i recall correctly, you’re resigned to watching.”

quiet whimpers that bounce off of the tiles turn into sultry mewls. he’s being so mean, his voice dropping by an octave or two, and it makes your cock throb. he’s crouching behind you so that he’s at eye–level with your hole and you can’t help but gasp when a thick finger is pressed against it. then he pushes it in, it’s dry and it burns but it’s (like everything else) welcomed without complaint.

“do you see that?” nanami asks, it’s a rhetorical question and even then, not directed at you whatsoever but you find yourself nodding along to whatever he says anyway. “the way it winks at me? that’s because it missed me and the way that it stretches and clenches around me? that’s because i’m the only one who can touch him like this.”

 sultry mewls turn into pornographic sobs. the way that he describes everything has your stomach in knots. it’s no longer a want but rather a need. you need him inside of you but he’s taught you better than this — you need to use your words to get what you want.

so, you do, voice breathy as you try to form words in between needy cries. salty tears trickling down your warm cheeks as you string a sentence together. “i need you,” you croak, glancing over your shoulder at him, lips quivering.

and he coos at the sight of you, removing his finger before standing upright and cupping your cheeks. “that’s right, look at daddy, only i can make you feel better, hm?” to which you nod in response and his smile widens, “where do you need me, my love? show daddy.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you nod again — immediately spreading yourself wide open with your fingers. presenting yourself like this to him, tears and all, is second nature to you. it comes naturally which he thoroughly enjoys.

and nanami groans at the sight of your hole as if it’s his first time seeing you like this and within seconds, he’s aligning the angry tip with your entrance. he brings his lips to your ears, his breath tickling the sensitive skin and sending warmth to your crotch. “it’s going to hurt a little,” he warns, leaning forward to press gentle kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he pushes himself inside.

he was right, it does hurt. it hurts like a bitch and it takes some time for you to adjust. nanami’s just so big; he makes you feel so full. but after he bottoms out and slowly finds his rhythm you know you’re a goner. pain and pleasure — you don’t know where one ends and the other begins but it feels good nevertheless.

you’re content babbling as he pistons his hips, balls colliding with the curve of your ass every time he thrusts into you. it’s all you need and all it takes for your cock to begin spurting ropes of cum as he assaults your prostate.

#x male reader smut #x bottom male reader #nanami x male reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #jjk x y/n #x sub male reader #jjk x male reader #nanami kento #nanami smut