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pellucid-constellations · 4 months

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Of Oblivious Minds (2)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning

a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡

Part 1, Part 3

Sometimes you hated being a scholar.

There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position.

But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.

“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?”

Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs.

“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.”

You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun.

This morning had been rough.

You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.

“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light.

You squinted up at him. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, not happening.”

You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later.

It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple.

Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision.

“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.”

You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his.

“You want to talk about it?” he questioned.

“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.”

Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life.

But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe.

You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.

The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize.

There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt.

“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?”

You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.”

Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.

“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.”

The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?”

You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself.

Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them.

“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.”

A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?”

“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.”

“Who’s seeing each other?”

The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand.

A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.”

“Who?” he asked again.

“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.”

The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.”

“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?

Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?”

“Honestly, maybe.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.”

There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him.

But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu.

Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation.

“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low.

You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.”

Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.”

“I’m okay, Az. Really.”

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

Maybe before.

“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.”

A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.”

“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave.

“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.

You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back.

“Have a good training session.”

You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed.

“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?”

Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.”

“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.

“She didn’t think so.”

You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.

Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area.

“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?”

Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.”

“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.”

“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.”

You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights.

“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave.

“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.”

The book in your lap was all but obsolete.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.”

“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.”

Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.

Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.

He would have told you.

Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?”

Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—”

You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve.

You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him.

Right?

The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing?

This made sense. It made sense.

Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain?

No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate.

Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were.

It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew.

Your fingernails dug into stone.

Azriel didn’t love you.

The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind.

You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours.

But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things.

You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin.

“Y/n?”

You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed.

You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for.

As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look.

Azriel was never supposed to be yours.

“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look.

To see how everything had changed.

“Let me fix it.”

You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then.

The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids.

Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.

Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you.

That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything.

Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel.

“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?”

Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts.

You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.”

“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out.

“I’m—’m tired.”

You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings.

This pain was immeasurable.

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel angst #azriel fanfic

3K notes · View notes

nkogneatho · 7 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑

Firefighter!Toji x fem!reader

📍Sincity Stop 1 (kinktober week 1)

—cw: fem!reader, mention of childhood trauma, fingering, protected sex, clasp position, slight size kink, deep penetration, cervix kissing, mention of cunningulus, sweet but beefy toji, nipple sucking.

—wc: 3k

—a/n: I am so proud of this ngl because my attention span is low but I managed to pull out a 3k word fic out of my pussy for the first time. I hope you enjoy it. Happy kinktober!!

Shoot me an ask for a tag in sincity. Reblogs are highly appreciated

#sincity mlist #general mlist #taglist

Moving to the outskirts of a new city had drained all of your energy. Yet, your excitement was palpable as you unpacked your belongings and decorated your cozy space with a touch of your personal charm.

Your eyes searched for the digital clock you placed earlier under the glass decor of the wall, which read “21:00”. Considering it had already been so late, you had no intentions of cooking for yourself. Yet, knowing you have to cut back on expenses considering you still have to buy some furniture, you decided to boil some water and throw in some ramen. While the water was boiling, you managed to find a candle in one of the cabinets. As the sun sunk to the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, you decided it wouldn't really hurt to create a warm, welcoming atmosphere in her new home. It might also soothe you. You carefully arranged scented candle near the window of your kitchen. You went to switch off the lights to vibe in the atmosphere. The soft, flickering glow of the candles filled the room, and the sweet aroma of lavender allured you.

You sat on your chair in the kitchen with the bowl of instant ramen, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you gazed at the dancing flames. You have your favorite playlist playing in the background. Not only that, but you've had a long week and this moment was certainly needed, and it was finally here in the midst of the city's vibrant energy.

However, what you didn't realize was that the flickering candle had ignited the curtain nearby. As you got lost in thought while slurping on then spicy goodness, the flames quietly crept upward, engulfing the fabric in a fiery embrace.

But to your luck, there was someone outside the window who actually noticed the faint wisp of smoke. When the passerby searched around, he found a flame igniting the fabric curled on the edges of the window. He quickly jumped over the road and rushed near the flames. He managed to get your attention by aggressively tapping and yelling. Your eyes fell onto the man and then the raging fire. You instinctively threw the water from the jar on the kitchen counter. It did attempt to decrease the flames, but not nullify it. So you started filling the jar at the kitchen sink. Luckily, the man had found a bucket filled with water lying outside so by the time your jar filled up, he quickly took care of the accident. You both took a long breath that you were holding inside.

“Thank you so much, Sir.” He looked like someone in his mid 30s. “I don't know what would've happened if you didn't notice,” you expressed your gratitude.

“Don't worry. Just be careful next time.” he shot you a little smile before looking at his now wet sleeves. You noticed it and realized the least you could do was offer him water with an apology.

“Would you like to come inside? I'll pop your clothes in my dryer,” you offered.

“That's alright. I can take care of this—”

“No, please. It's the least what I can do to thank you.” He considered your offer in his head for a few seconds before saying alright and heading towards your door.

The doorbell rang despite you knowing who was on the other side of the door. As you walked towards it, your sanity kicked in. Was it really safe to invite a random man into your house? I mean, sure, he helped you, but what if he is a serial killer? You're uncertain if you watched too many crime dramas or if this is actually concerning.

“Fuck it. If he tries something funny, I still have that pepper spray,” you said to yourself. With a rather awkward smile, you opened the door.

“Please. Come in.” He smiled. You closed the door behind him. “Thank you so much, once again.”

“Oh, please. Don't stress it. It's kind of my job as a firefighter.” Now that all the commotion was over, you finally noticed he has a deeper voice. Kind of raspy. Kind of soothing.

“Oh? I did not know that. I feel even more embarrassing to be so careless now.”

“We all make mistakes. How did it happen, though?”

“I was tired, so I lit some candles I found. Dumb me forgot about the curtains.” You gestured towards his wet sleeve. “…the shirt.”

“Oh yeah.” He started unbuttoning and halfway through you realized if this was actually appropriate.

Wait. Did I not think this through? He will be half naked. And oh! He is. It's fine, y/n. It's fine. He won't kill you. He is a firefighter. Oh my God! There is a half naked firefighter in my apartme—Oh! Those are some great abs. And the biceps. And those tits?They look bigger than mine. What the f—

“Ahem, ahem. You good?” he asked, snapping you out of your inner monologue.

“I am. Yeah.” You extended your hand for the shirt. “Please. Make yourself comfortable. I'll drop these in the dryer.” The man scans you as you walk away.

He plops himself on your plush beige couch. He looks around like a normal person to find decor that speaks what kind of person you are. Oddly, he is met with a rather small amount of stuff. Maybe you were a minimalist. By the time you were back, you saw him looking at the only picture frame you had on a wall.

“That's me with my mom, if you're wondering.”

“It's a beautiful picture. Also, apologies. How rude of me to sit on your couch, half-naked, and still not introduce myself.” You giggled at his words. “I am Toji. I live next door.”

“Wh—I am y/n. We're neighbors? Wow. What a coincidence.”

“I am sorry. Usually, the first new neighbor encounter is to always being something over, but I have nothing on me right now.”

“That's alright, considering you literally saved my life.”

“But you repaid me drying my shirt, so now we're even. I promise to bring something tomorrow.”

“Then I think I'll prepare something too.”

“You cook?”

“If putting instant noodles in boiling water counts as cooking, then hell yeah.” You both started laughing. It felt nice. His tits were still distracting, though. Thank god he is not a serial killer, so you can shamelessly have a wet dream about him.

The few minutes of getting-to-know-each-other conversation was interrupted by the beep of your dryer machine. You brought him his shirt, which felt like a mix of polyester and cotton in your fingers.

“So. I'll see you tomorrow,” you gave him a warm smile.

“Looking forward to that instant ramen, y/n.”

It felt bittersweet for some reason. You wished the shirt should've taken more time to dry because the conversation was fun.

In the midst of the chaos, a bond was forged between Toji and you, two souls brought together by a chance encounter amidst flickering flames. Was this a start of something new?

It was the next day. Your morning started with visiting the nearest thrift store to see if you could find something. You did need some crockery set for your kitchen. As you stepped out the door, you looked to the other side at Toji's door. You wondered if he's at work.

As the sun began to set over the quiet suburban neighborhood, Toji, found himself standing outside your door. He held a Tupperware filled with freshly made gyoza, a kind gesture he promised you.

Toji took a deep breath. For some reason, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. With one press on the bell switch, he waited, tiffin in hand. Inside, you were all giddy by the sound of the doorbell, with an expected visitor. You opened the door and were met with Toji's warm smile, which immediately put you at ease.

“Freshly made gyozas,” he extended his arm. “I hope my ramen in ready.”

“I am still boiling the water. You know how hard it is to make instant noodles, right?”

“Right. Haha.” This time he did not wait for an invitation to come in. He settled himself on the seat near the kitchen counter.

“So…how was your day?” you asked. “Any fire accidents today?”

“Not really. Fortunately, not many people in this city who burn candles next to a tapestry,” his voice taunting but in a lighthearted way.

“Ugh! How long are you planning on teasing me?”

“Hanging out with me comes with a price, sweetheart.” You felt your insides shift. Did he just call you a sweetheart? And it sounded so pretty in his raspy voice. You were left speechless, so you just smiled and headed over to the induction to see if the noodles were done.

“Can you help me set the plate, Toji?”

“Of course. It's the first time I've heard you say my name. Sounds cute.” Is he flirting? Or were you being delusional?

“Where's your kitchen towel? I need to wipe these first,” he asked. You gestured towards the second drawer next to you. As he grabbed the towel, he leaned to take a sniff of the noodles in the bowl.

“You are quite a chef, y/n. Smells amazing,” he didn't realize how close to your face he was. You had to take a moment to scan his features up close. His hooded emerald eyes. Some strands of his jet black hair shielding parts of his forehead. The texture of his skin. That scar near the end of his lips on the left. You wanted to feel it.

“Can I be rude for a second?” You asked. Toji didn't quite understand your question. Regardless of it, he said yes. Your fingertips reached for his scar, gently rubbing and feeling them. “How did you get this scar?” He didn't know how to feel, but something about your touch was comforting.

“When I was in middle school, there was a fire accident at my best friend's place. He lived a block away, so we immediately knew. My parents and I rushed over. They were still waiting for the firetruck to show up, while everyone started to break the garden pipes to calm down the fire. I sneaked away from my parents and rushed to the backdoor. I tried to touch the door handle and immediately got burnt, so I kicked the window glass.”

“But you were a kid?”

“Didn't matter to me at that time. A chunk of the outer ceiling which was now charcoal fell, so I instinctively jumped a step. But the broken glass had cut my corner lips by the time I opened my eyes. I passed out and the next thing I know I was in my bedroom. My mom had cleaned and bandaged up my lip.”

“What about your friend? Is he…?” You weren't certain if you should've asked that.

“Oh don't worry. He's alive. He's paralyzed in his limbs. Is now married and lives in Kyoto with his wife.”

“Is this why you became a firefighter? Because you thought you couldn't help him?” Toji rarely opened to anyone, but he didn't realize that when he does, how easy it becomes for people to read him. He gave you a nod.

“You're a kind man, Toji. And for what it's worth, this scar is a sign of bravery and looks beautiful on you.” He was never complimented in such a way. Something about you, and your touch, was so tender. The way your eyes sympathized when he told you the story. It felt good. He closed his eyes as he inhaled.

“Can I be rude too?” He asked.

“Okay…” you replied without knowing what had to come. His lips came crashing on yours, a faint touch of sweetness on them. You could now completely feel his scar against your lips. Both of your eyes remained closed until Toji looked away to exhale the breath he had been holding. You didn't know what you expected, but it surely wasn't this.

“I am sorry that was j—”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you interrupted, grabbing his face. Without a second thought, he once again started kissing you, but this time, it felt tougher. Harder. He pushed you on the kitchen counter, grabbing your right leg, constantly trying not to leave a single centimeter of space between you two. The more you kissed him, the more you craved. Especially with the growing heat between your legs. And surely the way he had one of your thighs around his waist, it wasn't helping your self-control. You started grinding on him, or what felt like his growing boner. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily with his forehead against yours.

“I need to fuck you. Right now.” You didn't know whether that was a demand or an order, but you'd surely be a fool to miss out on this after seeing the great body that he has, last night.

“Condom's in the third drawer on the left.” Toji sprinted to grab them. While he was busy finding the condoms, you stripped your clothes and threw them down on the floor. The wood rattled as he opened it to find what he wanted. He latched his teeth to the crimp of the plastic, ripping it through. He let loose of the elastic if his baggy white bottoms, along with his underwear, which pooled near his feet. You couldn't take your eyes off his cock when he started pumping it. Holy shit! It was girthy. By the time he reached you, he had the condom on.

“Will that even fit?” You raised your concern.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I'll make it fit.” Two of his digits entered your wet pussy, and he started making their way up until it reached that sweet spot. He spread his middle finger and ring finger inside to make your walls loosen up.

“Ah! Toji,” you mewled.

“Yes, baby? That feels good?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, throwing your head back with your eyes closed. The feeling of his rough fingers in your pussy was ecstatic.

You didn't realize he was aligning his cock with your entrance, fingers still inside, planning to catch you off guard. And he did.

“Ah—fuck! Holy Shit,” you moaned. When you looked down, you found the digits were now replaced by a girthier and better thing. Toji didn't move. He slid his cock up your entrance until it kissed your cervix, staying put to make your walls used to it, so he can easily move later. Tears formed at the corner of your eyes. “Too deep, Toji.”

“Need'ta do this, love. Or it'll hurt. Just for a few seconds, alright?” His voice felt sweeter. It felt as if he genuinely cared. With a minute passed, and you all stretched, he started moving slowly. You've never had such a big cock in your life, so this felt like a whole new experience. What turned you on more was how good he looked while thrusting his dick inside you. His biceps were flexed and his plush dark peach nipples erect. You sucked and wet your thumb as he watched you, then ran all your saliva over his nipples, which were now glistening.

“Fuck.” He moaned. “Ya like them that much, huh?”

“Love them.” He took his other hand off your waist and grabbed one of your breasts.

“I love these more.” He started playing with your nipples with his fingers, taking the other one in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

“Ngh—feels so good, Toji. Please keep fucking me.” The more you moaned, the more it turned him on.

“Hold on to my arms.” You were not prepared for what he was about to do. You snaked your hands against his arms, as he lifted you off the counter, each hand on your ass. He started ramming you down his cock, the fat dickhead hitting your g-spot, you were seeing stars.

“Fuck! Fuck. Holy fu—Oh my god. Ah! Gonna cum. Toji, Gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Cum for me, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Your orgasm hit you, and you spilled all your juices on his shaft. He did slow down but caught the pace again. He needed to cum too. Now that your wet cunt was even tighter after the orgasm, all sensitive and your warm velvety walls sucking him in. Fuck. He started bouncing you harder. Firefighters are sure as hell too strong. Skin slapped against each other vigorously until one last thrust, and he held you in place, somehow trying to reach even deeper and you whimpered feeling a slight pain. You felt something warm inside you through the condom. Toji rested his forehead against yours, still holding you in the position.

“Fuck. That was great,” he exhaled.

"Do you fuck every girl that moves in next door like a whore?"

"Not really," he replied. "Never seen someone as smoking hot as you."

“What do you say if we skip dinner and do this all night?” you suggested. The noodles were as cold as Antarctica by now.

“Do you see that knife, y/n? If I say no to that question, I want you to stab me with it.” You laughed gently. He carried you to the bedroom in the same position, until he plopped you on the bed and started running his tongue on your cunt. The entire night, he pulled multiple orgasms out of you. You cuddled. You talked. He skipped work the next day and don't worry, the gyozas were reheated in the microwave for lunch. Turns out, along with being a hot firefighter, he is a great cook too. This might've been a stupid one night thing, but neither of you wanted it to be the last.

Taglist: @sadeizzm @eros-lives @frustrated-kitten @xdeepinyoux @dabisqueen @twisteddaydreams1135 @thatneko0taku @linpunny @i-dont-know-whats-goingon @freeholeformuzan @saturnsoups @thatonepupkai @the-moonandthehermit @niguursworld @soubi122 @kacchanofbakugous @nymphotia @luc1dexe @ilovetwodmen @happymangospot @mnare @tired-gotha @anxious-chick @darkstarlight82 @suyacho @aztecbrujeria @iwuvtoruuuuuuu @getomybeloved @bloomingheartz

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #toji smut #kinktober #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #toji x female reader #toji x fem!reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n

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ttsukiimi · 17 days

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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ೋ ⎯ you request a spicy night of bdsm with the jjk men.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ೋ ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, fem!sukuna x reader, bdsm (obv!), bondage, smut, unprotected sx, multiple orgasms (Sukuna), size difference, slapping, reader referred to as (baby (gojo), princess (toji), woman (hm..I wonder who…)

⟢ ⌒

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was already halfway through tying your arms behind your back before he got impatient. But could you blame him? Your ass was practically in his face, cunt on display and he couldn’t ignore the hardness in his pants.

“Y’r just gonna have to be good for me and keep your arms like that, ‘Kay?” he mumbles into your ear, already reaching down and freeing his erection of its confines. Toji figured the half-assed job he did would hold you down anyway.

“B-but Toji, the whole point is you tying me,” you pouted, mumbling into the pillow as he pushed your head down. The fat tip of his cock soon slid between your folds, coating in your juices and prompting more slick to dribble out of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he hums, slowly pushing himself in and hissing as your walls immediately clap down on him. “Don’t need to tie you down anyway,”

One more thrust and he was fully sheathed. Toji groaned, feeling your warmth around his dick.

He slid himself out and pummeled back in, his heavy balls slapping against your clit and causing a shriek to fall from your lips.

“Hm—fuck, you’re so deep..” you mewled, drooling against the pillow his strong hand drowned you into. Toji grinned smugly behind you and gave your ass a hot slap—one that immediately after left a red imprint on your cheek.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right, princess.”

⟢ ⌒

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 didn’t find anything wrong with the idea—rather, he found his cock rising under his sweats at the thought of tying you up. It didn’t help knowing how vulnerable you already were under his huge body most times, he knew you’d be absolutely hopeless and at his mercy.

Soon he was tying your wrists together, smirking at the little whines that left your lips. Though, he was enjoying this a little too much.

“Comfortable, baby?” He asked as he roamed his hands down your back, gripping the fat of your ass, and you gave him a meek but hurried nod.

“‘Toru just put it in already,” you’d mumbled, feeling impatience wash over you, pushing your backside flush to his hips and sensually grinding on him.

Stifling a groan, Satoru placed his blindfold over your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it in reall soon.”

And he did.

But to your surprise and delight, the loss of sight made your other senses more sensitive. Your cunt quivered with every rough thrust Satoru drove into you, and your skin felt as if it were on fire with the way his rough palms grasped at your hips.

On the other hand, he was enjoying this just as much—if not more. You seemed to tighten around him harder than usual, not to mention the very fact that you weren’t trying to run away from every rut of his hips.

And he enjoyed the freedom he had over your body, snaking his hand to your clit, rubbing the nub of nerves in lazy figure eight’s until your body shook, overstimulated.

“You’re not—hah—supposed to enjoy it this much!” You moaned, feeling the head of his cock hit your sweet spot deliciously as he continued the motions of his hand. “‘S too much.”

“Mmm? Nothin’s too much, take what I give you.”

⟢ ⌒

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 wasn’t exactly foreign to the idea. He’s had his fair share of partners and has played into their interests, whether it be in bed or just generally.

But, of all people, his mind couldn’t process why you were requesting such a thing. You’re so small and fragile Nanami just about had to hold himself back every time you got intimate, scared that he’ll hurt you.

Thus, he gives it more thought. Or at least tries to.

But when you’re grinding so greedily on him, begging him in that sugary tone, Nanami can’t think straight. And in the midst of his seducted haze, he follows up with your words.

He ties your arms above your head with his silken and watches as you hopelessly struggle—feeling a primal need to breed you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos as he presses the drooling head of his cock in, watching your face intently.

“Ken, you’re so thick—!” you whimper, mouth agape as he begins to drive thrust after thrust into your poor cunt. Truth be told Nanami liked having your hands tied, but he found himself missing the pleasurable pain of your fingernails scratching down his back.

You squeezed around him so deliciously, causing him to groan. Nanami felt hot inside you, the rhythmic thump of him pulsing one that you lost yourself to.

It all felt surreal, the pleasure, the frustration of not being able to freely touch him—but you knew one thing was certain.

This wouldn’t be the last time.

⟢ ⌒

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 scoffed as he looked down at you. “You wanna be tied up, huh?” he grinned, beckoning you to sit down on his lap.

Stupid as it seemed, his ego was hurt. Why would you need things to hold you down when his arms did just fine?

“Am I not rough enough with you, woman?” Sukuna questioned, his upper arms set on your waist while his lower ones made quick work of ripping your panties off in one fell swoop.

You flinched as you felt the material rip apart but keep your composure. “‘Kuna, I just wanna try something new..” you frowned as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Oh, we’ll try it.” he hummed, your body jolting as you suddenly felt him press against your pussy. “Just my way.”

Sukuna soon had you crying and begging on his cock as you came for the third time that night, rasping lewd things in your ear.

Instead of a rope binding your arms behind your back, it was his strong hands. One of Sukuna’s hands could easily hold both of yours in a bruising grip.

“Ah, ‘m too sensitive, please,” you sobbed out, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he reached down and began to rub your clit.

Sukuna laughed as he mockingly kissed your forehead. “Give me two more orgasms and I’ll think about it.”

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gemissleeping · 2 months

Text

Angel of Small Death

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.

Length: 1.8k

Warnings: Mature. Smut. Angst as with everything I write, not sorry. Deals with addiction to substances. Please dni if this subject is triggering to you. If you need help or resources please dm me. Second instalment from the amazing Hogmarch Challenge by @thatdammchickennugget will have a part two!

Everyone knew that Slytherin threw the best parties. Hufflepuff was a close second, sure. But nothing quite matched the opulence of a bunch of rich kids throwing their parents money around like it was pennies. Which was why half of Hogwarts was currently packed into the Common Room as water-stained lights rolled across the dance floor.

You wove your way into the gathered students, everyone’s bodies slick with sweat through the haze. You were drunk, but so was everyone. Maybe a little high too, these things couldn’t be helped. Mattheo was oddly generous when you got him rolling. It was exactly what you needed; something that made you feel like a foolish child again. You’d been dancing for the past hour, but now your buzz had reduced itself to a gentle hum. Which meant it was time to find Matt again; sweet talk him into giving you just a little more.

Already familiar with the path, you strayed through the crowd. Handing out distant smiles to some of the other students from your year as you floated past them. Utterly devoid of anything but firewhiskey, sweat, and whatever Mattheo had given you, the bass rattling through the Common Room.

“Back again, Darling?” Mattheo grinned absently as you neared. Sunken into the couch, blown out eyes lilted with thinly-veiled guilt.

It wasn’t his fault, what had happened. You told him so almost every evening, when the two of you would meet to smoke up in the Astronomy Tower. His eyes always heavy with those same questions of whether you blamed him for the actions of his Father. But it didn’t matter how many times you told him it wasn’t his fault, because you knew he didn’t believe it. Besides, it would be a lie if you pretended that you didn’t think of it all every time you met his eyes in a room. It hung between you, always.

Enzo watched you trail over, sinking into the velvet beside Matt. Twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers as he glanced nervously to his left. Theo was sat there, his eyes having latched onto you long before you’d exited the crowd and made your way over to the group. But you hadn’t looked at him once, you barely took anything in these days. He could’ve stood before you and you’d have looked right past him.

Distance. It was what made Enzo shuffle uncomfortably in his seat beside Theo now. Swinging his leg over his knee, covering his mouth with a falsely casual hand. Watching the tall, glowering boy beside him.

Theo was still watching you when you leant into Matt’s shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering as your eyes glazed over. Matt resting his head atop yours with equal heaviness. The two of you whispering lazily to one another.

Sometimes your lips would tug into a smile at something he said, but your eyes were never able to catch up in time. The sight made Theo want to shatter the glass he was holding, let it tear at the skin of his hands. Give him a reason to feel this way, as though he were truly bleeding out. His feelings staining his shirt, the carpet.

At least when it came to Matt, he seemed to have some level of restraint. Reserving the substances the two of you shared for weekends, evenings. But Theo had become increasingly aware of how far away you were now becoming, even during the days. Whether it was Matt’s guilt that allowed him to fuel your addictions, he wasn’t certain. All Theo knew was that everything about you had changed, and a part of him wanted to kill Matt for having any role in it at all.

You’d have come to him once. Sat atop his bed and talked for hours. Hands resting beside one another’s but never quite touching. But these days you didn’t seem in much of a mood for thinking, let alone talking. The only thing you were interested in was getting far away from everyone, save for Matt. The two of you were joint at the hip. And although he hated to admit it; Theo knew that he should’ve been more concerned with other things, but that was what hurt him the most.

You were his childhood friend, the one he had swapped sandwiches with. Who he had followed up trees and chased across beaches. Sat through countless invisible tea parties beside. Who he had always, unconditionally, loved. And it had all been forgotten. Traded for nights of stuffing your nose with powder and drowning your insides in liquor.

He didn’t want to even begin to think about whether what you and Matt now shared was strictly amiable. Though he had his suspicions. And every time Enzo looked over at him with resounding pity, Theo got the aching feeling that those inclinations were right.

He tried to tune in to the debate Blaise, Draco & Pansy were having about who could do the best impression of Harry’s parseltongue. The trio bursting into laughter as Pansy hissed in gibberish. But Theo’s ruse didn’t last long. Everyone’s breath going still as Matt stood from the couches, offering his hand out to you. The pair of you slinking through the crowd without so much as a goodbye.

The others awkwardly turned back to their conversations as you disappeared. Although it was clear everyone was feeling the burden, as though they were all walking atop cracked glass. Enzo let out a sigh as he lost sight of Matt’s curly hair up the dormitory stairs. Tired eyes slinking to Theo, who was stuck on the doorway where you and Matt had vanished.

Enzo twirled the stem of his wine glass again before placing it aside, put off. Noticing the way Theo’s fist clenched at the couch’s edge. It didn’t take long for him to make an excuse. Enzo’s eyes trailing after Theo as he made little attempt to hide his path towards where you had disappeared.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Matt’s hands trailed the skin beneath the ribbons of fabric covering you. Greedy for more as he sat you atop his desk. Standing before you as he guided your knees apart gently. Eyes not vaguely tempted by your body, focused solely on taking you in; the way your lips parted as his fingertips trailed the inside of your thighs. Testing their limits as they trailed further, higher. As he threaded himself between your legs, pulling you flush against him. Tearing a gasp from both of you as your pretty little eyelashes fluttered. Head falling back as his other hand snaked up the back of your neck to guide his lips to yours once again.

He pushed against you softly, keeping the kiss delicate, careful. His hand trailing down from your neck to the underside of your jaw. The other circling the skin of your waist in intricate patterns. Holding you as though he feared you’d crack. You shuddered into his kiss, lips working against his softly. The antithesis to the fever that was sure to hit you both in a few minutes.

He pulled away an inch as you shook against him, rolling his hips lazily into yours. Satisfied when you let out another breathy gasp at the movement. He loved watching you like this, it seemed to mend something in him. As though if he brought you enough pleasure, it would somehow make up for all of the pain. Matt brought his forehead down to yours, absentmindedly swiping his thumb beneath your nose. Cleansing your skin of the white powder that sullied it.

“I just want to make you feel good again,” Matt breathed, ghosting his lips against yours in a broken whisper, “please say that I do.”

Your eyes blinked open, seeming to clear a little at his words, the rawness in his voice. You looked to the boy before you, saw yourself in the weight of his brow, the heavy set of his jaw. Saw the bruises of fear he carried.

“Matt,” you whispered, fingertips flying to soothe his skin. Draw him back into you and out of his head. “You make me feel better than anything.”

The words had barely left your lips before he crashed himself against you. Commanding fingers grasping at your jaw to make you as accessible to him as possible. Tilting your head back and sucking at your bottom lip with his teeth. His hips rolling against yours with calculated speed. Pressing himself flush against you as your skirt hiked up.

The sensation made you squirm, just as he knew it would. The hand he had situated on your hip clamping down firmly as he drew you back towards him. Leaving you no room to get away. Relishing in the way you lost all composure as he pressed himself against you again and again. It didn’t take long for him to make quick work of your underwear, or for your hands to find the buckle of his belt.

You were soaked by the time he pushed himself into you. Holding you tight to him as you cried out into his mouth. His hands already gently threaded into your hair with familiarity. Keeping you from falling back into the wall as he began to thrust into you. The gentle roll of his hips escalating as the powder hit your systems. His movements growing rougher as his control unravelled.

You buried yourself in his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper, the sensations becoming too much as you felt yourself losing your grip. His lips lazing against your cheek, trailing the skin with each thrust.

“You’re so good to me,” he breathed harshly into your ear, drawing you closer to the edge of the desk as he drew himself into you again and again. His hand tangled in your hair gently, comforting you as you reached your high with blistering intensity. “I’m sorry,” the words left him in a strained whisper as he continued his pace, offering you little relief as you felt yourself building up again.

But you knew his apology had nothing to do with his pace, the rough snap of his hips against yours. They only ever came when you were together in this way; completely at the mercy of the other. It was the only time he could let his guilt spill into you and know you would answer him truthfully. Your head too empty, body too spent to lie.

“I know,” you choked the words out as you shook again, your hands tangling in his hair as you felt him stuttering against you, “me too.”

Theodore shut the door quietly with a click, letting his back rest against it as he faced the empty corridor outside the dorm. A tightly wound breath leaving his chest in a huff as his bleak gaze permeated the wall in front of him. The sound of your heavy breath and moans barely audible beneath the door.

Theo sat, eyes drawn shut as he tried to wipe the image of you intertwined with his friend from his mind. Feeling flustered for having caught you both in such an intimate moment, and guilty that he wished it was him.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Masterlist here

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luveline · 6 months

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maybe miguel with shy spider girl who never holds eye contact with him and he calls her to is office alone for info and she’s just a mess? idk 😭😭

“Miguel wants to see you.”

You smile at Peter B. Parker. It is not a natural nor authentic smile. “Sorry,” you say, “what?”

“Miguel, the big guy! He wants to see you. You reported that weird bubble on 265, right?” Peter’s chewing on gum obnoxiously, seemingly unwise to your panic. Mayday giggles in his arms. “He wants your opinion.”

“I've never spoken to him.”

Peter laughs jovially as Mayday climbs up his front and almost topples down the back of him. “He's a nice guy, you'll like him. Hey, you want some gum?”

You take a stick of gum but don't chew it, the strip of Juicy Fruit powdering your fingers as you ride the elevator up to Miguel's laboratory. You barely know where it is, only that it's in a general direction of which you've never walked in. You haunt the dorms and the library rather than the workshops, content in your quiet life (as quiet as it can be, considering). Every step you take down the red lit hall to his lab is brimming with the want to turn back.

There's a platform set on the floor decorated by computers. You can't tell what's holographic and what's physical, but Miguel O'Hara is undeniably solid. His shoulders alone look thick as a tree trunk where he stands in the midst of it all.

You know it will be less painful to just… say hello. You put your Juicy Fruit in your pocket and clear your throat quietly.

“Mr. O'Hara?”

He waves his hand at you without looking. “Miguel is better. Come here.”

You struggle up onto his raised laboratory. Would it have hurt to build a step?

“Spider-Girl from earth 1421. Yes?”

“Y/N,” you say. “Yeah, that's me.”

He looks up at that, like your name is a curse word, or a surprise. You meet his eyes for as long as you're able to before your gaze crawls to his chest.

“And you saw the distension on 265?”

“Distension… um, you mean when the air looked like it was bubbling?”

“What were you doing when it started? Just give me a run down.”

You clasp your hands together tightly. You feel silly in your suit because somebody convinced you that it was okay to wear stuff on top, so now you're in this big silly hoodie while Miguel stands waiting in his officials. You'd always thought it was nanotechnology, but closer it seems more like a fabric with chameleon technology, or—

“What were you doing when it started?” he asks again, softer now. “You're not in trouble, I just need to get a sense of what happened.”

“I know, I– we were there to– to–” You wince. “To capture an anomaly, Doc Ock 83.” Your hands start to tremble, you're so nervous. “But we had a hard time finding him, he wasn't doing much, and the– bubble started not long after getting there.”

“Was it a precursor to anything? Did something significant happen after it began?”

“Um–” You can't think. What happened? You'd been standing on the street between the last reported sighting of the anomaly with your small team. You're a competent bunch but you only ever get called in for the weak guys, and you weren't sure what to do when things got weird. “I'm sorry, I don't know.” You peek at him, worried he's going to snap at you.

“Just take some time to think about it.”

He smiles —Miguel smiles at you, a juxtaposition to every rumour you've ever heard about him— and takes a step toward you, gesturing at your hoodie. You freeze up, worse when his fingertips point at the hem of it.

“Do you have your drone?”

You flush a hundred degrees hot and pull your hoodie up your chest to click the panel of your drone where it dents over your heart. It breaks free, flying up into the air above your head on automatic. Miguel grabs it out of the air and takes it over to his computer, where he syncs the sim and looks through your recordings. He isn't so cruel as to play them without permission, deferring back to you.

You raise your hand and tap the file.

It starts with you talking to yourself. “There's no… what alley was he…” You scrub forward to the middle of the video, just before the distension begins. “Hey, do you see that?” you ask your teammates.

Miguel leans forward. He's standing very, very close to you, and he talks quietly so as not to overcloud the sound on screen, “Here. Does this jog your memory?” he asks.

You look away from him again. But, now he's asked, and now you've seen it, there was something unfamiliar. “After it appeared, the anomaly changed. Doc Ock didn't look like himself. I thought I was seeing things, but here–” You rewind the video and point at the outline of Doc Ock against the bubble. “See? He's different. He looks paler.”

Miguel glares at the screen in concentration. Your comparison must impress him, though it doesn't solve the problem. “Alright,” he says as he copies the file from your drone. You summon it back to your heart. “The next time one of these is reported, I want you to come with me.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Because six people went to that dimension and only one of them flagged this. You have a sharp eye. When you deign to use them.”

You bring your gaze up in a rush, “I– I'm just nervous–”

“I know.” He smiles at you again, not at all the prey versus predator grin you'd imagined, but a more private smile as though you're sharing a joke. He looks at once like a normal man. Is he flirting with you? “Keep your communicator on, hm? I'll call for you.”

“Okay.” You don't know what to do, so you offer him a smile of your own. “See you then.”

He chuckles into himself as though he knows something you don't. “See you, nerviosa.”

You wouldn't need to know Spanish to know he's teasing you.

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chrattenthusiast · 4 months

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hii can u do a smut femxmatt fic where they meet at a party and they like are kinda drunk and matt’s really flirty and touchy and they just end up fucking!! ty!!!

AN: yes but with a slight twist hope you aren't mad at me ;/ (This was inspired by a fanfic i read a while back, but i added a lil sprinkle) this is gonna be the last angsty smut I write for a while!!! the world is healing yay.

warnings: slightly rougher smut, alcohol, slightly toxic matt, not proofread, longish

AFTERPARTY - Matt sturniolo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Entering the house, you found it filled with a thick haze of smoke, and intoxicated individuals occupied every corner. Taking it all in, you absorbed the chaotic atmosphere of the house party.

You spot the drinks lined up on the kitchen counter smiling instantly, your face lit up with anticipation as you instinctively reached for two shot glasses, intending to share the experience with your friend. Carefully, you poured the potent liquid into the glasses, aware of the complex emotions it always evoked within you - a simultaneous blend of affection and unease.

Taking a swig of the shot, a wince breaks across your face as you taste the acrid burn. Your friend, mirrors your grimace. Yet, undeterred by the bitter flavor, they reach for the bottle, repeating the action twice.

The room erupts with loud cheers from the other end of the house, where a spirited game of beer pong is in full swing. You see the excitement in your friend's eyes, knowing just how competitive she is. Urging her to join in, it takes a little convincing, but you assure her that you'll be perfectly fine on your own.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings in the house after pouring yourself a generous serving of alcohol. You make a deliberate choice not to mix it with anything, recognizing that doing so might result in an unsightly aftermath the next day.

Your phone buzzes, and with a sense of urgency, you swiftly reach for it. As your eyes scan the text message and the identity of the sender, your eyebrows knit together in a perplexed expression.

Matthew: you look so good, but you should slow down.

The text message verified the sensation of being watched. Instantly, your eyes scanned the surroundings, desperately seeking the presence that had captured your attention. Instantly locking eyes with him, you found him in the midst of individuals with whom you had limited conversations with. His gaze lowered as he held a drink cradled in his hand. You observed him while his eyes traced every contour of your body. Gradually, he raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip, his gaze remained fixed on your face.

The agreement between both of you was to keep things uncomplicated, though you disliked deceiving the ones you cared about, but deep down, you cherished the moments alone with him, away from others imposing their opinions on your 'relationship.'

He thought differently however, he wasn't planning on telling anyone about the two of you- although he was close to telling his two brothers about it- he liked the arrangement between the two of you, sneaking around, but mostly he wanted to 'protect your peace', away from his world of a sane but crazy fan base- he loved how the both of you pretend to not know of each other in public. but in private you were his, the same girl that always found yourself tangled under him

The sudden awareness loomed, casting a shadow over the quickly consumed alcohol's impact, and a wave of jealousy welled up inside. It bothered you that he seemed calm and indifferent, apparently unaffected by your need to be near him all the time. As usual, you pushed these emotions down, steering clear of further complicating the already complex situation. Yet, despite your efforts, the persistent realization lingered that this arrangement might not end well. In hindsight, you recognized that you should have probably considered the options before agreeing to such an arrangement.

Taking a sharp breath, you tucked your phone back into the waistband of your skirt, purposefully ignoring his text. Opting for a rapid consumption of a mix of assorted alcoholic drinks, you winced at the disagreeable taste. Turning your focus to the right, you caught sight of a guy in your peripheral vision. It took a moment to recognize his face.

"Hi," he greeted the instant he realized your gaze had landed on him.

"Hey," you replied, aiming to keep the conversation brief while maintaining a sense of respect.

And, of course, Matt observed from a distance. Despite once being enthusiastically engaged in the conversation,He now leaned back, adopting a manspreading position nodding as though still interested in the ongoing discussion. However, there was a noticeable tightening of his grip on his phone.

You nodded your head, forcing a smile at the guy, giving the appearance of genuine interest in his conversation. However, deep down, all you craved for was to escape the confines of the house, retreat to your bed, and wallow in the misery of your self-destruction. The weight of how you'd once again managed to sabotage everything for yourself loomed heavily on your mind.

Your attention shifted to your friend, and you couldn't help but notice the wide smile on her face. It seemed she was genuinely pleased to see you stepping outside your comfort zone and engaging in a conversation with the guy, her grin widening when she observed his arm touching your waist. Matt, too, noticed her reaction. He had heard about her in the extensive conversations you shared with him, during those moments when he played with your hair, absorbing every word you uttered. You spoke of her with deep love and adoration, and silently, he harbored a resentment that you couldn't speak of him in the same way to her. He cherished the importance of loved ones, and selfishly, he hated that he wasn't on your list.

What he hated even more was how you didn't pull away from the guy's touch, especially when he left lingering squeezes, emphasizing his words—just like he would. His gaze remained fixed on both of you, observing as the guy incessantly carried on with his conversation. Your irritation grew, and the breaking point came when he flagrantly crossed the line by violating your personal space- and is left dumbfounded when you cut him mid way muttering a poor excuse- speed walking away from him.

You step into what seems to be a hallway, choosing the first door and entering a dimly lit, spacious bathroom. Your hands find their way to the edges of the sink, and you lean down, allowing the exhaustion of the events to wash over you. The bathroom door opens and shuts, prompting your eyes to snap toward the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with Matt.

Leaning against the bathroom door with lowered eyes, Matt takes in your appearance. His gaze is fixated on your skirt, noticing how it's slightly hunched up due to you leaning over the sink.

"you get my text earlier?" he asks, returning his gaze to your face.

"Yeah, I got it. I was pretty occupied, though," you reply, turning your body to face him

"yeah? I couldn't tell" he replies laced with sarcasm.

You nod in response, and he begins to walk toward you. Instinctively, you move backward, feeling your lower back hit the counter. His arms trap you on both sides, eliminating any distance between you.

"you avoiding me now? Is that what's happening?"He says, leaning down to meet you at eye level.

The close proximity makes it a bit challenging for you to breathe properly. So, you turn your head to the side, suddenly finding the patterns on the wall much more interesting, despising how calm and collected he appeared- how much control he has over your mind, despite numerous reassurances from him. You can't help but wonder if the only time you get to be intimate is away from others because you question whether he's more concerned about being seen with you than genuinely "protecting your peace."

"Stop that," he says, aware that your mind is racing at full speed.

Your eyes finally meet his gaze, and it's unclear how long the intense stare has lasted. Matt is the first to break eye contact, stepping back. His hands move to the bathroom lock, twisting the metal and securing it.

"Classic," you mutter, still grappling with your self-sabotaging thoughts.

"what was that?" he says

"we're not doing anything in here " you reply ignoring his question

"Who said we were going to? We're just having a conversation"

"you look pretty" he continues due to your silence

"yeah? I've heard" Confidently fueled by the liquor, You aimed to provoke him, fully aware that he had seen you talking to the guy. What added to the satisfaction was knowing he wasn't pleased that you entertained the conversation, you turn your body to face the mirror again. Purposefully grinding your ass against his groin, already feeling the hardness.

"You having a change of heart, I thought we couldn't do anything?" he says,pressing you further against the counter. The cold marble makes you shiver.

You tilt your head to the side as you feel his hands brush up against the back of your thighs, making their way to the skimpy material of your underwear, smiling once he felt how soaked you were

lifting the bottom of your skirt to rest on your lower back he delivers a harsh slap to your ass, making you smile at how quick he is to give you what you want.

His hands grab your hair, bunching it up and pushing it to the side. Sneaking his hands around your torso, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

" you want this? you gotta be quiet though might be hard for you huh " he snarked

"fuck you" you reply annoyed with his snarky comment

"yeah i'm sure you'd like that, now wouldn't you" he pulls you flush against his chest,placing a gentle kiss to your temple, his hand palming your wetness, making you lean further onto his chest, your head settling in the crook of his neck

"Always so needy for me aren't you sweetheart" he whispers causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "I got what you want right here" he adds pressing himself harder against you

he pushes your underwear to the side, circling your swollen clit causing you to grip the edges of the sink harder, his hands make his way to the small of your back wanting you to arch further into him.

His fingers part from your entrance, causing a whine to escape your lips at the lack of his touch, You hear the sound of his belt being undone, and that sound alone intensifies the warmth between your thighs. you look at him through the polished glass as his hands make his way to your ass, grabbing your backside spreading it apart slightly giving him a full view of your wetness.

He positions himself at your entrance, guiding the tip of his shaft along the slickness of your wetness in an up and down motion , all the while maintaining eye contact and loving the needy expression you wear.

You start to turn around to beg him to fill you, but your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as he thrusts himself completely inside you, your head falls back in sheer delight, finally experiencing the sensation you've yearned for throughout the past couple of weeks. his thrusts are soft wanting you to get used to him

At that moment, he withdraws entirely, leaving just the tip inside you and then thrusting fully inside you without any warning. This elicits small moans from your lips, pulling you closer to him, and his grip around your waist tightens. The pace of his thrusts quicken, and you make every effort to stifle any sounds

Your fingers brush against his hands wanting to gain stability and comfort from his touch with him plunging inside you, it's a pleasurable ache, so intense that tears well up in your eyes. His lips move to tenderly kiss the top of your head, seeking to reciprocate the affectionate touch you crave. He gently squeezes your waist. In that moment. This action alone prompts a recollection towards the person who did the same to you just minutes ago, and his gaze narrows toward that specific spot.

his grip on that spot hardens, causing you to slightly wince knowing that it'll bruise later, you turn to look at Matt, but his fingers grasp your chin forcing you to look at yourself taking everything he gave you, his grip never leaves your face and you moan at the change in pace. It was overwhelming. and a smile was plastered on his face at the way he was breaking you, leaving you dumbfounded

"do you know who you belong to " he asks, his cheek coming into contact with yours. his soft hair brushes against your skin, pushing himself deeper inside you

"You matt"

" You positive ? " he asks moving your head to look at him, forcing eye contact while his thrusts get sloppier but deeper,not slowing down his pace, the feeling in your belly worsens.

"yes I promise"

His hips thrust against your backside, and you instinctively tighten around him, wanting to avert your gaze from his compelling eyes. You resist giving in to the impression that he has complete control over you. However, you find it impossible to look away as his firm grip on your face prevents any movement. Your hands grip his arm in a pleading gesture, silently urging him to allow you to finally reach climax.

He hates how delicate and kind you are, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you from any potential harm. He hates that he might be the cause of your emotional distance, fueled by the fear that his lifestyle could be too much for you to handle.

"don't get all shy now, you were confident when you let him touch you remember?"

"I'm sorry," you respond immediately, but he knows you're not to blame. Despite not being officially together, he doesn't care; in his mind, you belong to him, and he's determined to prove it. His thrusts show no signs of slowing down, and your hands instinctively move to the back of his head for support, irregardless of the tight grip he has around you

"If you ever let another man touch you the way that I do, you'll pay. got it?" you nod unable to articulate a response as your mind remains blank.

"Say it"

"yes matt" you choked.

he attaches his lips onto yours, for the first time in weeks and it shows how much you've missed each other, it was rough enough to bruise your lips His hand releases its hold on your waist, finding its way to your neck, exerting subtle pressure. He teeth delicately tugs at the bottom of your lip before letting go of his grip, ultimately granting you the freedom to lean fully against his chest.

he leans his head against yours, wanting to be as close to you letting you relax for a second until he's back at it, his fingers make their way to your swollen bud. The most audible sob escapes your lips as his fingers trace in circular motions, gently pinching the swollen area with his thumb and pointer finger.

"fuck i c-cant matt"

“you’re taking me so well baby, just a little longer for me " he replies to your plea, grabbing your hips to push back against his length, Handling you firmly, his fingers persist in vigorously rubbing your bud in circular motions, You thrash around him, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his grip around you prevents any escape,

"tell me how bad you want it " he says slowing down his thrusts, wanting you to suffer a little as his fingers skillfully work around the sensitive area, making you pant with the pleasant sensation. You squirm in response, caught between the pleasure and the firm grip that holds you in place.

"Really bad matt please" You cry in frustration, mascara staining your cheeks as you let the tears fall.

"come for me sweetheart" he encourages

Without a moment's hesitation, you comply with his command, and you feel yourself release all over him messily, Matt's hands swiftly move to your mouth muffling your sounds.

"That's it baby let it all out for me "

Your grip around his shaft is so intense that his body can only endure so much. His arms envelop every available inch of your body as he grapples to suppress his own noises.

you feel his release fill you, mixed with yours slowly spilling out from inside you and the sight alone cause him to harden. He gazes at your disheveled appearance, giving you continuous slow thrust, that drag out your orgasm, with smudged mascara running down your eyes and tousled hair. you may feel like a mess, to him, you appear vulnerable, and he likes that.

"you okay?" he asks

you curse him inwardly for consistently diverting your focus from reality. Both of you understand that this unhealthy pattern could lead to a disastrous outcome if left unaddressed. If either of you could set aside fear and selfishness, the nights wouldn't be consumed by your overthinking and He wouldn't harbor resentment towards those who are able to openly express their affections for you.

"yeah, you okay?" you ask him

A chance to resolve the indifference between you two presented itself, and he silently contemplated the options. The desire to admit his true feelings for you lingered, but the overwhelming fear held him back. He acknowledged that one day he might gather the courage, but for now, he selfishly preferred to keep things behind closed doors. He knew that he was being selfish, yet the thought of having you in any capacity seemed preferable to the prospect of losing you completely. Yet again, what started as a complicated situation only deepened in complexity.

"yeah" he replies leaning his head against yours, as he began to pull out from inside you slowly.

He hurriedly dresses, securing his belt, you make your way to the door, preparing to unlock it. Just as you're about to, he gently grabs your arm, pulling you close and placing his hand on your waist. "Are we really okay?" he asks, searching your eyes with a mix of concern and longing.

"mhm, i'll see you around?" swiftly, you reply and proceed to unlock the door The grip Matt has on your waist loosens, and the subtle detachment tugs at your heartstrings, leaving a slow ache.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

taglist: @loveesiren @christinarowie332 @daddyslilchickenfingers @mangosrar @kenzieiskoolaid @sturnphilia @lucvly @recklesssturniolo @mattslolita @ratatioulle

#matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagines #sturniolo fanfic

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nvirskies · 3 months

Text

til death do us part, and then some - c. la rue

warnings: reader suicide, angst hurt/no comfort, ruegard, asshole clarisse, descriptions of blood, infidelity, broken promises, not beta read

summary: clarisse never comes back from a quest and you take matters into your own hands to reunite.

unclaimed!fem!demigod!reader x unfaithful!clarisse la rue

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover @azrielsdiary

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, READ AT OWN RISK

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni

Lord Dionysus, Chiron, or whomever may be reading this:

In the event that someone has been unfortunate enough to find this note upon my death, do not fret. This has been a decision I had been mulling over for weeks, months, if not years now. I do not know when I will feel compelled to take this step further, so this has been written entirely in advance. Know that I will be content with my life in the Fields of Asphodel, or the Gardens of Elysium should Lord Hades be so generous as to grant me that privilege.

I would like to thank everyone who did their best in making Camp Half-Blood a welcoming and home space. Special thanks to the Hermes cabin, and Lord Hermes for their gracious welcoming arms and making me feel like I belonged somewhere. My belongings should be distributed amongst whomever would like to keep them, and make sure they are put to good use.

Return any and all of Clarisse’s clothing found in my chest back to the Ares cabin, and let them figure out what to do with it on their own time. Lord Ares, I give my final thanks to you for graciously allowing your daughter to have been part of my life.

To my fellow unclaimed demigods who are wondering if they should be mourning the loss of a sibling, I have no definitive answer for you beyond if you felt like you were close enough to call me a sibling, mourn me like you would a biological one. No matter if you are claimed tomorrow or never claimed at all, know you are not unworthy or inferior simply because of your divine parent’s lack of attention.

You may be half-divine, but always remember to keep that human spark within you alive. Keep your compassion, your empathy, your sense of understanding. This world is not made for us, but never give up on creating spaces that are. We live heavy lives, and respite is hard to come by.

When you bury my body, put me to rest with my javelin, suit of armor, and the fragments of Clarisse’s shattered spear. Under my tongue, please place two coins instead of one. My love is waiting for me on the banks of the River Styx with no way across, and I would like to provide her with a way across alongside me.

Underneath the last paragraph was your name, signed in neat print alongside your signature swooping cursive. The letter was found rolled neatly atop your chest of belongings, your lifeless body on the bunk bed you had claimed for yourself for the past four years of your life. Crimson blood seeped through the bed sheets and mattress, a fatal reminder for all of the fragility that even the strongest harbored.

Upon the discovery of your body, ripples of whispers swept through the campers like a stone tossed in the midst of a serene waterfront. Your skin was just barely lukewarm, the blood streaming from the thin cut horizontal across the jugular vein was beginning to brown and oxidize.

In one hand was the knife that had presumably made the cut, the blade pristine and glinting in the dim light save for the thin line of blood that ran across its edge. The other held Clarisse’s favorite shirt, all bundled up and cleaner than anyone had ever seen it before. Anyone who picked up said shirt could immediately tell that it had been doused in the cologne that she once wore on a daily basis, no doubt a purposeful move to make your last moments completely blissful in surrounding yourself with her scent.

She had been your home, after all.

Clarisse had comforted you through nightmares, the breakdowns about being unclaimed for years that happened whenever someone new was claimed and the jealousy and anger of it all.

She had reassured you that even after Silena had died that you weren’t a rebound, and that her feelings for you were genuine, and you had believed her.

You were her girl, after all. The one she let her walls down around, the one who had tried to patch together the spear her father had given her even after the Hephaestus children had given up. The one who she let braid her hair and be soft around. The one where she had promised over and over again that even in the afterlife, you would find each other in Elysium again.

Then, she had been sent out on a quest. One that she had vowed to return from, safe and sound. The rest of her group did, but her face was never again seen on the hills of Camp Half-Blood that the two of you called home.

Gone were the moments wherein she would hold you and soothe all of your worries away. Gone were the times of squealing as she picked you up from behind and spun you around to face her mid-air. Gone were all the possibilities to make the most of your limited years together, because she was dead, off in a faraway land that you couldn’t even visit to see her corpse and offer her one last smile.

That was when the thoughts began to swirl in your mind. Months went by and everything seemed to go back to normal. You had been given three weeks off training to mourn, and after those three weeks you seemingly bounced back like nothing was wrong, like you hadn’t just lost the love of your life.

The only difference was the streak of white that made itself apparent in your hair, its origins unknown, and the smile on your face that never seemed to quite reach your eyes no matter how many times you tried to convince (yourself) and the others that it was genuine.

Months passed and all fell back into its routine. Things were looking up for the camp as a whole, and Chiron had been able to take a few steps back in managing thanks to Percy Jackson’s continued efforts to have gods and goddesses interact with their children more.

But those thoughts still took root in your mind, their tendrils digging into the very essence of your psyche as every lonely moment was spent longing for her touch, for her warmth, for the security that she provided once upon a time. In your mind, there was no doubt that it was time to make good on your promise to each other.

You would meet her in the gardens of Elysium and reunite once more.

After your burial, you made your way down to the banks of the River Styx, anxiously clutching the two coins in one hand and your javelin in the other. Your eyes scanned the crowds of souls, all clamoring to Charon, pleading that he take pity on them and take them across without payment.

The wails of the damned, sobs of the innocent, and screams of the guilty all flooded your senses.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls and sprinted towards them, your footsteps leaving indents on the ash-sand lining the waterline of the Styx.

She was there. Your assumptions had been correct.

As she had died out in the world and had never been given a proper burial, she had joined the crowd that lingered just at the edge of the Styx, taking every chance she had to try and get across.

But now that you were there, she didn’t have to worry about sneaking aboard Charon’s boat. You had enough payment for the both of you to make it across safely, and finally live out the rest of your afterlives like you had promised each other.

It wasn’t until you were naught but a couple dozen feet away that you noticed she was rather busy with something. Or rather, someone. And she was looking at that person like they were the only one in the world right now. Your gut twisted, knowing that was the look that she had given you.

But it wasn’t you she was looking at. It was Silena Beauregard, the daughter of Aphrodite, that Clarisse had spent countless hours reassuring you that she wasn’t just using you as a rebound to get over her death.

She had lied right through her teeth, all with the kindest smile on her face that you could imagine. It was becoming apparent that you were a fool, strung along for the sole purpose of keeping Clarisse’s arms full and warm while she thought of the Beauregard girl.

Every kiss, every moment, every word shared between you two seemed hollow now. They had lost all meaning, all of the sentiment that once made your stomach fill with butterflies.

You skidded to a stop just behind the pair, watching with a heavy heart and tightening in your chest as their lips collided over and over again in a series of passionate kisses, their hands roaming each others’ bodies. Just like she had done with you, countless times prior. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence.

You had always been hers, but she had never been yours.

There wasn’t much emotion left in you besides melancholic resignation, and your gut twisted every time you gripped the two coins in your hand, a reminder that they would never be used for their intended purpose.

You waited there for a moment before tapping on Clarisse’s shoulder, causing her to break away from the kiss and turn to look at you. Surprise filled her features, then guilt. Overwhelming guilt as she realized the situation you had caught her in. Her lips were interlocked with another girl’s just a moment ago, the very same girl that she had reassured was not a problem or factor in your relationship.

Silena stood behind her, her eyes scrutinizing your appearance, taking note of the way you clutched two coins instead of the customary one.

“Love-? What are you doing here?” Clarisse asked, the term of endearment slipping naturally off her tongue as it had countless times in the past. But it no longer held any meaning to you, not when you had just witnessed everything before your very own eyes. You didn’t respond beyond throwing the two coins down at her feet with a knowing look, a silent callback to the promise that the two of you had made. The coins clinked softly as they fell onto the fine ash that lines the shores of the River Styx, falling on top of each other.

Horror filled her features as she realized just exactly what you were doing down in the Underworld, and her eyes fell upon the thin scar that ran just along the jugular vein on your neck.

The one spot she had taught you to go for on an opponent if anything ever threatened your life, and you had used it on yourself to have a chance at forever with her. A chance that had been wasted.

“You- you didn’t-” she began, choking on her own words as tears filled her eyes at the thought of it, and the sight of you, now in front of her, very obviously dead.

“It was for you, ‘Risse, but it seems I really was just a rebound after all.” You spat out, a dangerously bitter edge to your voice as you looked her up and down.

“These,” you gestured to the coins on the ground, “were supposed to be for us, for the promise you made. But I guess I was the one foolish enough to listen to you, to fall for you in the first place.”

“Enjoy your time in Elysium, La Rue, and know that you were the cause of my death. Don’t forget. On the River Styx.”

That last statement was the final nail in her metaphorical coffin. No one made a promise on the infamous river and broke it, not without terrible consequences. Any and all chances of her getting into the paradisal side of the Underworld were dashed in mere moments as the realization dawned on her about the gravity of her mistake.

You bent down and picked up one of the coins on the ground and left without a word, turning on your heel and disappearing back into the crowd of souls before Clarisse could utter another word.

You had left her with two choices by giving her that one coin: to take the coin for herself and cross with Charon with hopes of trying to win you back and leaving the Aphrodite girl in the dust, or giving it to Silena and letting her go because she was clearly the girl the daughter of Ares loved most. Either way, she lost something.

Her last name was right. You rued the day you ever met Clarisse.

#🖋️ nvir writes #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue pjo #ruegard #silena beauregard #angst #hurt/no comfort #wlw #sapphic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians

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shima-draws · 7 months

Note

Tell us about the AU! I know you want to!!

WAUGHHH. AGHHH. OKAY. OKAY SO. I've been watching one of my favorite content creators play through the DLC. Early on in the playthrough he was tossing around theories and said "Maybe KIERAN is Ogerpon??" and that gave me a BRILLIANT THOUGHT.

Ogerpon Kieran AU.......

I've already thought of a very long and complex backstory for this LOL but to simplify it. Before the ogre and its human companion came to Kitakami, said companion was actually living a very happy life with his child. However, they were caught up in the midst of a great war that ended up taking the child's life. The man was so overcome with grief that it summoned a great being (I'm thinking Xerneas), who blessed his dead child with new life. And that child was reborn as Ogerpon!! So kinda like how children who get lost in the woods and die are reborn as Phantump.

Fast forward to many many years later. A long chain of events leads to Carmine's grandfather's...father (so, her great-grandpa?) meeting Ogerpon and vowing to make it a new mask, a mystical and powerful mask that could grant wishes. Sadly, Carmine's great-grandpa wasn't able to complete the mask before he died. This project was eventually picked up by Carmine's father (and I have a whole other thing about him but I'm not gonna get into it right now lol). Carmine's father forms a very close bond with Ogerpon as he continues to gather materials to finish the wish mask. He expresses his desire for Ogerpon to finally be able to walk among the villagers with its name cleared, and for Ogerpon to meet his only daughter. He leaves for a journey to find the last material for the mask...and never returns 😔

Carmine's grandfather has a whole complex about the wish mask, but after seeing both his father and his son dedicate so much time and care into completing it, he takes the last material, imbued with the hopes and dreams of his family, and finally finishes the mask. When he presents it to Ogerpon, Ogerpon dons the mask and its wish is granted...it becomes human :") So it becomes Kieran, basically!! Kieran's wish was to be able to say thank you to all of the generations of mask makers that had helped him, and. To be part of their family 🥺 What he doesn't know is that his wish to be human stems from the fact that he already was human, once. But he doesn't remember his life before he was reborn as a Pokemon.

So, Carmine's grandfather happily accepts Kieran and his desire, and takes him home to live with him and Carmine. Note that Kieran is probably around 5-6 at the time, so he's BABY. And Carmine is only about a year or two older. She isn't sure what to think about suddenly getting a new brother, but she's happy to have someone to boss around lmao.

And once a year, during the festival of masks, Kieran lets his facade fall and wanders around as Ogerpon again. Just to keep in touch with his roots haha

So obviously with Kieran being Ogerpon the events of the DLC will play out differently than canon. Kieran slyly compliments the ogre in front of the player and mentions that maybe it's just misunderstood. He's been trying for a while to change the villagers' minds about what happened to him and the Loyal Three all those years ago, but it hasn't been going...too well lol. So when the player shows up, and things start to shift, Kieran gets really excited bc he realizes he finally might be able to clear his name :")

Is this AU silly and dumb as hell? Yes. Does it not really make sense with canon and is full of plot holes? Yes. Am I brainrotting over it anyway? Also yes.

Take a little edit I did of Kieran's official art to fit what I had in mind for the AU ;) I wanted to draw it but I'm at work rn lmao RIP

ALSO LITTLE DOODLE OF THE BOY

ALSO bc of Ogerpon's original gender Kieran probably goes by he/they pronouns in the AU

#Listen I know this AU is stupid as hell but it means SO much to me #Shima answers questions #Pokemon #The Teal Mask #Pokemon Kieran #Pokemon Carmine #Ogerpon #Kieranpon AU #Shima's AUs #I'm brainrotting SO hard. HELP #Long post

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box-of-roses · 3 months

Text

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. I hear you .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

♡ Synopsis: You can hear the thoughts of your soulmate; What happens when Sakusa finds out you’re his soulmate and tries to plan the perfect way to tell you

♡ Characters: Sakusa, Y/N

♡ Possible Warnings: Mentions of tests and failing, good old fashioned teasing

♡ Words: 2.3K

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Series Masterlist

From the moment you’re born you are able to communicate with your soulmate. No one is exactly sure how it works but their thoughts become yours and vice versa. A lot of the time what you hear is nonsense. Since everyone grows up with it constantly in their brain it’s easy to filter out the nonsense from actual conversations. Let’s start from the beginning though shall we?

Y/N is born. Maybe not quite that early, let’s skip ahead to the first coherent conversation you remember with your soulmate. It was just after you had failed a test, which was shocking because you believed you had done well on it.

‘Hey, I don’t know what’s going on over there but will you stop panicking?’ Hearing a voice in the midst of your stupor made you jerk your head up and look around. Seeing nothing on the horizon your brows furrowed and your lips contorted into a frown. ‘Did your parents or teachers not talk to you guys about soulmates? We communicate in our heads.’

That made much more sense as to why you could hear someone talking to you but couldn’t see anyone. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, your panicking made it hard to focus.’ You rolled your eyes at that and stood back up. ‘Just go ask to retake the test if you’re so worried about it.’ That was actually a good idea now that you had thought about it.

And thus the first interaction with your soulmate. Even if they were a bit blunt. You didn’t have many conversations in the early years of your lives. As you approached High School though the conversations came much easier.

‘What high school are you going to?’ You looked down at the three papers in front of you.

‘I’m not telling you that. You might be my soulmate but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a creep.’

‘You’ve literally known me your whole life and can hear what I’m think.’ You rolled your eyes. It was a bit of a habit when dealing with your soulmate. ‘I’m stuck between a couple. We can meet generically if you want or we can go to school together.’

‘Itachiyama.’ What?

‘That’s where I’ll be going to school.’ You felt a smile growing on your face at the news. You pulled out your laptop and began filling out the entrance form.

‘There’s no guarantee that I’ll get in but I’d like to meet you. Talking to you is nice.’

‘I enjoy talking with you too. Now go to sleep, we’re on the same time and I don’t want to listen to you complain about not getting enough sleep.’ It was little things like that. They reminded you that this was in fact your soulmate. Not just a friend that comes and goes. Someone you're with for life, for better or worse.

‘Goodnight K’

‘Goodnight N/N’

You had gotten into the school. Yet you still hadn’t met your soulmate. Well, that’s not entirely true but you didn’t know that you had met your soulmate. The universe works in mysterious ways.

‘I can’t believe it’s been months and I still haven’t met you.’

‘Maybe you have and don’t know it. It is a possibility. It’s a big school and we’re bound to cross paths at some point.’ With a laugh you finished off your notes.

‘I don’t want to force too much. I think it’s a bad idea to figure out a time or place to meet, I have faith in the universe that we’ll meet at some point.’ Tempting the universe too much was never a good idea. Enough movies and shows have taught you that much. Although, it was tempting. Why would it let you get into the same school? Be in the same vicinity but never meet. Not truly at least. Questions for once you found him.

You at least knew that much. Your soulmate was a him, his friends teased him relentlessly for smiling if you said something funny. That he played a sport, and that you two were at the very least friends. You had details but they were still vague enough that it made it difficult to find him.

Day in and day out you would look at people in your classes and wonder if he could be one of them. He of course laughed at you when he heard the thoughts run rampant in your head. If he was in your class you didn’t know, what you did know though was that he was happy you were looking for him. ‘I’m glad you’re looking for me.’

‘Wow? I never expected such a statement from the reserved K’ You smile as you scribble on your paper. Hearts, lines, letters. ‘My mom wants me to join a club.’

‘Which club do you want to join?’

‘Aren’t you in a club?’

‘Yes.’ He wouldn’t tell you which one no matter how many times you asked. “It’d be too easy if we narrowed it down.” He would say. That’s the point. Years of having this voice in your head and no face to go along with it. It was a little frustrating. Your eyes scanned your classroom, many of your classmates had found their soulmates. Purposely going to the same school and meeting each other. The difference between you and them was that they pushed the universe.

You and K had a delicately practiced dance. You would push and he would pull, sometimes he would push and you would pull. Memories of the high school conversation passed in your head. It had been so easy to get that information from him. Why was this so hard? Shaking your head you packed up and went to the bulletin board to see which clubs needed help. What caught your eye immediately was volleyball. You enjoyed the sport well enough. The team was looking for a manager.

‘I think I’m going to apply to be a manager of a sports team.’

‘Maybe it will be mine.’

‘I hate when you do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘I say something and you tease me for being hopeful.’

‘Maybe I was giving you hope.’ You hadn’t thought of it like that. You had always thought of it as him shutting down your attempts. Maybe he was giving you hope, he told you what high school he was going to. He told you he was on a sports team. So now here you stand looking at the sports section of the board and the first thing your eyes landed on was a almost hidden away post.

‘Did you hang up a post?’

‘If I did you wouldn’t know. If I didn’t you still found one that caught your eye and are trying for it. Take a jump. I’ll try to catch you if you fall.’

‘That was cheesy, even for me. But, thank you.’ With newfound courage you walked to the gym, it wasn’t loud since it was before practice. The team would be away on lunch at the moment. You quickly found the coach though. “Hello, I’m here to apply for the manager position for the volleyball team.” You smiled and held out your hand after approaching the man. He looked at you and nodded. He shook your hand and gave a run down on the things you would be expected to do.

“If that’s not too hard you’re welcome to the position. Show up here Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Thursdays as well but that will mostly be a quick stop to let me know if you see anything that I don’t catch and their grades and such.” You nodded along to the information with a wide smile on your face. From what you heard of the team they were really good. And there was a silent hope that you would meet K here.

“Alright, see you after school then coach!” You left the gym and went to lunch yourself. ‘K! I got the position!’

‘That’s nice, why are you yelling though?’

‘Because I’m excited.’ You huffed and sat down at your table. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your lunch.’

‘We literally talk the whole lunch period everyday. Why are you so worried about it? Did someone say something?’ You smiled at his thoughtfulness. The more you two talked the more thoughtful and caring he appeared.

‘No, I’m just nervous for my first day on the job.’ You knew he was rolling his eyes at that.

‘No need to be nervous. You’ll probably be doing easy stuff and getting introduced to everyone.’ You knew he was right and it was silly to be nervous. You were still nervous though. What if you meet him and he doesn’t like you? ‘Stop. I can hear what you’re thinking, remember?’ Oh. Yeah. That.

‘If we meet I’m sure I’ll like you.’

‘You can’t know that for sure! What if you find me annoying?’

‘You’re not. Lunch is almost over, go to your last classes and then we’ll see if you picked my team.’ You were still nervous but he worked at reassuring you. Even though it didn’t calm you completely it was still nice.

One last skip for now. No one wants to sit in their thoughts. Or at least it’s not healthy to. Let’s see how you’re doing as a manager shall we?

Once you arrived in the gym again you began setting things up. It seemed you were early. Oh well, the coach said that it would be helpful to set up on days you got there before everyone else. Once the net got set up you went searching for the volleyballs. They’ve got to be around here somewhere.

“I would check in the storage closet.” A sudden voice shocked you and you jumped. You turned around and came face to face with one of your classmates.

“Komori right?” He nodded.

“I’ll check with you, the others should be getting here soon. Sorry you had to set it up by yourself.” He seemed nice, you had very minimal interactions in class but you always knew him as kind.

“It’s no problem, I’m your new manager so it was the least I could do.” He smiled at you as he showed you the cart of volleyballs.

“You’ll be meeting my cousin today. Don’t mind him, he can be a little off-putting when you first meet him.” Okay, well that was worrying. ‘K, I met one of the team members and he’s already told me to be careful of someone.’

‘You’ve got this, I wish I could talk but I’m about to start practice and I don’t think either of us wants me to get hurt.’

‘I don’t know, you’ll have more time to talk to me that way.’ You smiled and of course Komori noticed. “Soulmate?” You kind of forgot he was there but nodded.

“Yeah, apparently he’s about to start practice and made a joke.” Komori nodded and helped you push the carts out into the gym. The team had arrived by the time you guys had gotten back. One of them caught your eyes though. The tall dark haired boy. Sakusa. A lot of girls in your grade talked about him and how they wished he was their soulmate. Your cheeks heated up when you remembered you had a soulmate. Now was not the time to be gawking at boys.

‘Who are you gawking at?’

‘No one!’

‘Mhm, like I literally didn’t just hear you tell yourself to stop looking at someone.’

‘It’s nothing, one of the people on the team is just cute that’s all.’ You rolled your eyes and put on a smile before introducing yourself to everyone. “Hello, I’m L/N F/N. I’ll be your manager starting today. It’s lovely meeting everyone.” You stood back up and gave them all a smile. You noticed one of the players stiffened at the interaction. Maybe that’s what Komori said when he said his cousin could be a little off-putting.

You let them get to practice after that though, not wanting to hold them up any longer. Your eyes didn’t leave Sakusa though. He was mesmerizing to watch play. He looked like he enjoyed it. A stark contrast to him looking disinterested a moment ago. Get it together Y/N.

You had been spacing out for so long that it was time to pack up when you finally returned to reality. Komori said he would help you clean up but surprisingly Sakusa also agreed to help. Doesn’t he hate new people though?

‘You have that effect on people. No one ever hates you.’ Your cheeks heated up and you almost dropped the volleyball you were holding.

‘SINCE WHEN WERE YOU SUCH A FLIRT??????’ You placed the ball in the cart and looked around to see if there were anymore as you tried to calm yourself down.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t feel very good listening to you gawk over a guy for my entire practice.’

‘MAYBE IT WAS YOU???? EVER THINK ABOUT THAT???’ Not seeing anymore you turned back around to push the carts back to the storage room.

“Hey L/N, why do you look so flustered?” Komori being ever so helpful to point it out made you even more flustered.

“Because my soulmate decided to be unhelpful and flirt with me.”

“They don’t usually?” It was Sakusa’s turn to chime in now.

“No. Or at least not so obviously.” The boys helped you put the carts back. ‘Thank you so much for that. Now you’ve got people questioning why I’m acting the way I am.’

‘You’re welcome. Get home soon, it’s getting late.’

“Well, it was nice to meet you guys but I need to head home now.”

“See you later L/N”

“Yeah, see you.” With that you left the gym excited that you made more friends.

And with that chapter one is complete. I’m going to write the first chapter for all the installments of the series before continuing with a specific one. So, stay tuned for those! My askbox is open if you would like to request something and love you guys! Hope you enjoyed!

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

Taglist:

Masterlist

#haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff

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honeyed-hedonist · 2 days

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SFW:

Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness

Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate.

Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways.

Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways--whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.

Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length

Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.

Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.

Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.

Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”

Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.

NSFW under the cut 18+ NO MINORS.

NSFW:

Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top.

Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”

Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.

A vocal lover--he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princesa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”

His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him--again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t.

Big on marking you--with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.

Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel--when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah--you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”

Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)

To be continued…..

#miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #sipderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #smut writing #spiderverse imagine

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rk1stars · 1 month

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ENHYPEN FORGETTING YOUR BIRTHDAY. ( PART TWO )

GENRE fluff, angst, comfort, happy ending for all~ WARNINGS kissing, cursing. PAIRING enhypen x afab reader. STAR’S DAIRY listen I know I said this is fluff but I couldn't help it.. HEADPHONES PLAYING.. 505 by arctic monkeys, imperfect for you by ariana grande, i wish i hated you by ariana grande.

L.HS ★

“fuck fuck fuck, where are you love.” Heeseung's eyes were filled with tears, which spilled down his cheeks as he felt a strong sense of guilt and emptiness. He had been searching for you, but to no avail, and he kept cursing himself out in his head for not being able to locate you. The pain and anguish on his face were palpable, as he struggled to come to terms with the situation. Despite his efforts, he felt helpless and lost, not knowing where to turn next.

But then a memory hit his head. The place where you two met.

He saw you crying on a bench in front of a gorgeous river. He remembered going up to you and offering the donuts he just bought.

Immediately rushing to that area, his heart shattered into a million pieces.

Everyone viewed Heeseung as strong. But what made Heeseung crumble into pieces was you crying. Or just you in general. You were his biggest weakness.

As he walked past the park, his heart sank at the thought of never seeing you again. But when he saw you sitting on a bench, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that you were still around. However, that relief was tinged with sadness as he remembered the reason why you were crying, Him.

He approached you with a sense of hesitation, his steps slow and cautious. As he drew closer, you could see the uncertainty etched on his face. Finally, he dropped to his knees before you, his body language conveying a mix of vulnerability and desperation.

“I'm so sorry love. Please forgive me..”

Despite being angry, you couldn't help but feel a sense of powerlessness. Witnessing Heeseung's tears always had a profound effect on you, making you feel like you were falling apart. Heeseung was the one person who could break down your walls, and he was your biggest weakness.

Your anger being torn down, you pick him up from his knees and hug him tightly.

In the midst of tears streaming down both of your faces, Heeseung tenderly cups your face with his hands. He gazes into your eyes with a mixture of concern and affection before pulling you into a deep and passionate kiss. The intensity of the moment takes your breath away and for a moment, everything else fades away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

P.JS ★

Worry was an understatement for what Jay was feeling right now. Jay already planned a fancy restaurant date and bought you a diamond necklace.

Jay was feeling incredibly foolish at the moment. He couldn't help but wish he had the power to turn back the clock and undo what caused you to become upset with him. The situation was weighing heavily on his mind, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let you down.

As he was driving down the road towards your house, his mind was weighed down by a heavy burden of thoughts. The weight of his worries seemed to be taking a toll on his driving abilities, making him somewhat nervous and jittery behind the wheel. The road ahead appeared blurry, and he found it hard to focus on the task at hand. The fear of crashing was looming large in his mind, as he struggled to keep his emotions under control while navigating the way to your place.

As he made his way to your doorstep, his heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. The weight of the emotions he had kept bottled up for so long became too much to bear, and tears began to stream down his face. He tried to wipe them away, but they continued to spill out uncontrollably. Finally, he stood in front of your door, taking a deep breath before ringing the bell, hoping beyond hope that you would be there to comfort him.

But when he entered your bedroom, His worst nightmare happened. you crying because of him.

As you were sitting there on your bed, tears streaming down your face, he felt a pang of sadness and empathy in his heart. He couldn't bear to see you in such distress, so he rushed towards you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. He held you tightly in his arms as if to shield you from the world and all its troubles. Your sobs gradually subsided as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance in your ear, reminding you that you were not alone and that he was sorry.

With all your pent-up frustration and anger, you hit his chest over and over again. But no matter how hard you hit his chest, he didn't react or leave. Just holding you and muttering out a thousand apologies.

“Shh, sweetheart, it's okay..”

“I know I'm sorry..”

As you struggle to keep your anger up, you eventually give up and drown in his warmth. You bury your face in his chest and hold him tightly, seeking comfort from his warmth and steady presence. Your sobs rack through your body, and you cling to him as if he were the only anchor in a stormy sea. Despite the pain and sadness you feel, his embrace brings a small measure of peace to your troubled heart.

“I'm sorry… I love you, Jay.”

“I love you more. remember that, yeah?”

Both of you drowning in each others warmth.

S.JY ★

Jake felt like an asshole.

He hurriedly dashed out of his front door, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of you. He started running as fast as he could, his heart pounding with anxiety and anticipation. He kept running, his breaths becoming ragged and labored, as he searched for you on every corner of the street. His mind was filled with a sense of urgency and a desperate need to find you. And finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted you in the distance and sprinted towards you with a sense of relief and joy.

The sense of happiness and contentment that was flowing through his body suddenly dissipated the moment he saw you walking alone in the rain, fully prepared for the forgotten date, It was as if a dark cloud had descended upon him, casting a shadow over his previously joyous mood. The sight of you braving the rain all by yourself was enough to break his heart and leave him feeling empty inside.

As he rushed towards you, his heart pounding in his chest, he could feel his own desperation mounting. He needed to hold you, to feel your warmth and your presence, but as he wrapped his arms around you, he was hit by a wave of guilt. The sound of your sobs tore at his soul, making him feel like the worst person in the world. Despite his own pain, he couldn't bear to see you in distress, and he vowed to do everything in his power to make it right.

“I-i’m sorry..”

“Please, baby.. Forgive me.”

“I’ll do anything you want. Please just look at me..”

You still keeping your head low, he sobbed and sobbed waiting for a reply. Apologizing over and over again.

“Please..”

“P-please..”

As he stuttered through more desperate pleas and tearful begs, he felt like he was sinking into a bottomless pit of despair. But just when he thought he had hit rock bottom, he felt a warm embrace hugging him back. As he looked at you, he saw you looking up at him with eyes full of compassion and understanding. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink of hopelessness and giving him the strength to pull you closer.

“It's okay Jake..”

Jake feeling a sense of relief and pure joy, he hugs you tighter in his arms, while the both of you are sputtering out a bunch of “I love you”s.

P.SH ★

Sunghoon felt depressed. Without you giving him any response, he was lost and worried. Not knowing where you are.

Typically, he was not one to display his emotions so openly in front of others, but at the thought of your absence, he found himself unable to hold back the flood of tears that were streaming down his cheeks. The mere thought of being without you was too much for him to bear, and he felt utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions.

Amidst his uncontrollable sobs, he pays no heed to the concerned words of his friends and hurriedly steps out of the door. His heart aches with a profound sense of longing for the warmth of your loving embrace, as he struggles to cope with the overwhelming emotions that have engulfed him. The tears continue to trickle down his face, blurring his vision and making it difficult for him to navigate his way through the world. All he can think of at this moment is how much he needs you, how much he craves the comfort and solace that only you can provide.

He looked everywhere. Your house, your favorite shops, where you two met, and even your friend's houses.

As he jogged around his neighborhood, feeling hopeless and lost in thought, an idea suddenly clicked in his head.

The beach, with its endless expanse of sand and sea, was the one place where he always took you to help you clear your mind and sort through your thoughts.

The salty breeze, the sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the warm sun on your skin all combined to create a peaceful and calming atmosphere, allowing you to escape the chaos of daily life and find a moment of clarity. Whether you walked along the shoreline, sat in the sand, or simply stared out at the horizon, the beach offered a sense of tranquility that was hard to find anywhere else.

As he hurried towards the beach, he experienced a mix of emotions that left him feeling both relieved and guilty. The relief came from the fact that he had finally found you but seeing you cuddled up while hugging your knees made him guilty.

As he stood there contemplating whether or not to approach you, his mind was filled with negative thoughts and doubts. However, he mustered up the courage to push those negative feelings aside and sat next to you.

“I-im sorry, my love..”

Looking up at you with desperate puppy eyes, you couldn't help but melt into his gaze.

“You’re lucky you're adorable.” before kissing his cheek.

K.SN ★

Sunoo wanted to drown himself. He couldn't believe he hurt a gorgeous and pure person like you.

Sunoo is in a state of desperation as he tries to call you repeatedly. His body is engulfed with a sense of worry and guilt that seems to weigh him down.

Desperately trying to hold back his tears, he quickly ran down the street to your house, his heart pounding in his chest. As he gasped for breath, he prayed that you were home, hoping that he would see you. Which he desperately needed. The weight of his troubles felt overwhelming, but he knew that with you there, he could find the strength to face them. Racing up to your front door, he banged on it with all his might, hoping that you would hear him and come to his aid.

After what seemed like an eternity, he noticed the doorknob turn and the door creak open. A pair of hesitant eyes peered out from behind the crack, and he could sense the trepidation in your body language. You seemed to be hiding behind the door, as if unsure of whether to let him in or not.

As he stood there, an overwhelming sense of desperation washed over him, causing tears to stream down his face uncontrollably. The weight of his emotions became too much to bear, and he sank to his knees, feeling completely helpless at that moment.

“Please, baby..” holding your hands while looking up at you.

As you see him kneeling before you, tears streaming down his face, your heart fills with empathy and compassion. Without hesitation, you reach out to him and pull him up into a warm embrace, holding him tightly. You feel the warmth of his body and the weight of his sadness, and you offer comfort and strength in this moment of vulnerability. As you hold him, you feel the tears running down your own cheeks, moved by the depth of his pain and the power of your connection. In this embrace, you share a moment of pure human emotion, transcending words and labels, and expressing the essence of love and compassion.

“It's okay.. Just don't do it again okay..?”

Y.JW ★

Jungwon didn't know what to do.

He spent weeks planning every detail of his surprise for you. He knew how much you loved your favorite restaurant, so he made sure to book a reservation at the best table in the house. He had carefully chosen a beautiful promise ring, one that he knew you would adore. As the night approached, he grew more and more excited, eager to see the look on your face when he presented you with the ring.

Jungwon had a stroke of bad luck when he forgot an important event - your birthday. Out of all the days in the year, this was the one day that he forgot, leaving him feeling incredibly guilty for his mistake. It was a significant day for you, and he failed to acknowledge it in any way, which only added to his remorse.

You weren't answering his multiple texts and calls and he was feeling hopeless.

With a sense of urgency, he sprinted towards your house, his heart beating faster than ever before. As he ran, he felt warm tears streaming down his cheeks, blurring his vision. The overwhelming emotions within him made him feel like he was drowning in a sea of despair. Yet, he pushed on, determined to reach your home as quickly as possible.

In a hurry, he inserted the spare key into the lock and quickly turned it, unlocking the door with a sharp click. Without wasting a second, he dashed towards your room, his heart beating wildly in his chest. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the hallway as he covered the distance in a frenzy, filled with urgency and concern. Finally reaching your door, he paused for a moment to take a deep breath before gently pushing it open, anxious to see if you were okay.

As soon as his eyes met yours, a strange sensation took over his body - as if all the energy had been drained out of him. He couldn't bear to see you in tears, it was painful to witness. The anguish in your eyes made him feel helpless, and he wished he could do something to take away your sorrow.

Jungwon approached you and you could sense the hesitation in his movements as he took a step closer. Despite the anger boiling within you, you didn't resist as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You both wept uncontrollably, holding onto each other as if your lives depended on it. It felt as though all the pent-up emotions had finally been released, and there was nothing left to do but hold each other and cry.

“I'm sorry darling.. Forgive me, please?”

As you finally make a decision, without a second thought, you reach out and gently place a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you. You look deep into his eyes and give him a soft, sweet kiss, hoping to ease his mind and let him know that everything will be alright. As you pull away, you see a glimmer of relief in his eyes, and you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

N.RK ★

this was Riki’s first time in love. Because of his busy idol life, he never really paid any attention to what love was and what it felt like.

As soon as he laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of connection. It was as if everything he had been searching for in life had finally fallen into place. Your smile, your laugh, the way you carried yourself - everything about you seemed to draw him in and captivate him. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that you were the one he had been waiting for. The one he would spend the rest of his life with.

As he sat there, his mind racing, he couldn't help but think that he might have lost you for good. The thought of not having you in his life was unbearable. He wondered if he should reach out to you and offer his heartfelt apologies for what he had done wrong, or if he should give you some space and time to process your emotions. It was a difficult decision to make, and he felt torn between wanting to make things right and not wanting to make matters worse.

So he did what he always did. Take a walk around the streets of Seoul to get his thoughts out of his mind. He entered a convience store and got your favorite flavor of cake. Hoping to give it to you when he found you.

The sight of you sitting all alone in an empty park and staring vacantly into the distance only made his already troubled thoughts worse. He couldn't help but wonder what might be going on in your mind and what could have brought you to that place. The silence of the park seemed to amplify the weight of his own thoughts, making him feel even more isolated and alone.

As you sat side by side, he hesitantly reached out and took your hand in his, his grip tight and reassuring. His eyes were fixed on you, filled with an intensity that revealed his unspoken feelings. He longed for you to turn and meet his gaze, to see the depth of his emotions reflected in your eyes. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the quiet intensity of the moment.

As you took your hand off him, he eagerly grabbed the cake and brought it closer to you with a sad smile on his face. His eyes were shining with need, and he looked a young child showing his mom a new drawing he had just completed. The cake was beautifully decorated with colorful frosting and sprinkles, and it smelled heavenly. You could tell he had put a lot of effort into finding the perfect cake for you.

“I-i know that it isn't the best but..”

“I'm sorry.. I wish I could turn back time.”

As you reach for the cake, you do so silently, trying not to disturb the peace around you. You take a bite and feel the sweet taste melt in your mouth. With a feeling of contentment, you drop your head on his shoulder and take in the stunning view of the river in front of you. The sun is setting, and the sky is painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple, creating a spectacular canvas of colors. The water flows steadily, and you can hear the sound of gentle waves hitting the banks. You feel a sense of calm wash over you as you take in the beauty of the moment and share it with someone special.

“I’ll forgive you if you play royal high with me..”

THANK YOU FOR READING! <3

-written by rk1stars

TL - @cholexc

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clementinegreye · 24 days

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the sweetest sin of all || part 2

aaron hotchner x feb!bau!reader ||

summary: part two! in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's song 'too sweet') - read part one here

word count: 2.6k

warnings: obesession, kissing, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):

a/n: hi! in a surprise turn of events my friend requested a sequel. so here she is!

Sunlight bathed the office in warmth, casting long shadows across the room. The brightness of the new day offered a similar newness to what Aaron was feeling in his chest. A glow from within, matching the sky of optimism. How was it that after finally giving into sin he was being rewarded with such virtue?

With newfound clarity, Aaron saw the remaining sins in a new light, no longer as abstract concepts, but as human desires that ran deep within all of us. He thought of envy - the yearning for what someone else had, wrath - the uncontrollable fury born out of injustice, and lust - the overwhelming desire for another. He understood, perhaps for the first time, the power these emotions held, and the destruction they could bring when left unchecked.

He found himself drawn to the memory of lust - the overwhelming desire for another. It was a sin he'd experienced first-hand, a sin that had changed him irrevocably, a wickedness he had no intention of seeking redemption for.

He allowed himself to be drawn to the unholy memory of the night before, eyes falling closed. It felt as though he’d never left the office. The bullpen outside his internal windows began to buzz and hum with the life of his colleagues arriving freshly rested and ready to reface the case.

Surrounded by the remnants of the night, he let out a deep breath, his mind wandering back to the sweet taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his, and the soft whispers of their shared passion still echoing in the room. This was their shared iniquity, their secret temptation, a dance of desire they had surrendered to.

He could still smell the faint hint of her perfume in the air, the lingering scent of her dancing around his office. He was surrounded by the remnants of their night. He sighed deeply, flooding his senses with everything that had transpired over the last 24 hours. There was a watermark ring imprinted on his desk from their shared glass, subtle reminders of their hidden transgression.

His heart hammered in his chest at the thought of her, a sweet symphony of debauchery and his personal surrender. He traced the watermark with his finger, the texture grounding him, reminding him that it wasn't a dream. This was their secret, a clandestine dance only they knew the steps to. The memory of her gentle touch still lingering on his skin, he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Morgan, his firm knock at the door reminding him that he had work to do and that there was still a killer that he should be focused on. Noticing Hotch’s unusually dreamy expression, Morgan eyed him suspiciously. The ability to read body language was a profiler’s best weapon, and Morgan was looking at him with knives in his gaze.

‘What’s going on?’ His voice was firm but even. Aaron felt like it could lead to an interrogation if he didn’t pull himself together, but with her scent in his head and the memory of her on his lips, it was harder than he would like to admit.

Before a response could leave his lips, his gaze was drawn to the sight of her walking into the bullpen, the memory of their shared secret making his heart race anew. He quickly composed himself, turning back to Morgan with a steely gaze, ready to face the day and with newfound confidence ready to catch the son of a bitch before he could take another sin as victim.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded curtly at Morgan, his voice steady as he said, "Let's get to work." He stood from his desk, posture straight as a soldier. He moved to follow Morgan with surety towards the roundtable where the team had gathered in quiet conversation.

He traced his fingers over the corners of the files in his hands. Each one was a call to action, a reminder of the duty he owed to the victims and their families. Yet, beneath the weight of responsibility, he found a new source of strength - her. Her words echoed in his head, her tone of confidence pushing him with a passion and determination he had never known before.

As he stepped into that circle of familiar faces, he allowed himself one last lingering glance at her - she was as bright as the morning that shone through the window. With a renewed sense of purpose, he began discussing their next steps in the case, her presence and the memory of her certainty; a powerful source of inspiration.

He could feel her gaze on him as he laid out the details of the case. Her eyes traced over his features and he could swear he could feel her touch. The presence of their shared secret added a new layer to the dynamic, a furtive thrill that spurred him on. He could almost feel the anticipation in the room, the team ready to delve into the depths of the details printed in front of them.

A sense of camaraderie filled the room as they all settled into their roles, ready to tackle the challenge that lay ahead. Each member of the team settled into their familiar rhythm which made their team unique. Hotch sat in his chair, eyes glancing over the summary of the crime, he could feel the weight in the room on his shoulders.

He felt wrapped up in more than just the case. He’d settled back into his dominance and role as team leader, but he hadn’t quite shaken the thrill of letting go, and he was excited by the chance to do it again once the case was over. The memory of her touch, the echo of their whispered promises, strengthened his desire to solve the case. Hotch felt an unfamiliar lightness, a secret sweet sense he could hold close to his chest that could drive him to catch the killer.

‘Garcia still hasn't been able to uncover any kind of paper trail linking the victims together.’ Spencer spoke, his voice typically rushed but there was a twinge of frustration, he pushed his hair from his face in a flurry. There was a pause amongst the team, a collective moment of thought.

'Perhaps the Unsub is choosing victims based on personal encounters, not premeditated selections.' She added. Hotch had already been looking at her, but with the sweet sound of her voice, the rest of the team’s eyes followed where his gaze rested. Hotch’s watch flicked away from her for a moment as if scared his colleagues would see the intensity in his eyes. With the attention on her, she continued. 'I know it’s hard but maybe we should focus on potential spontaneous interactions the victims might have had.’

Amid the team's collective returned concentration to the evidence, he couldn't help but steal another glimpse at her. The soft glow of her skin, the vehemence of her gaze as she poured over the case files in front of her - she had looked at him that intensely. He couldn't dwell on it too long or his mind would be flooded with all reminders of their shared connection.

'Let's explore that possibility then,' he said, his voice steady despite the rapid beating of his heart. He could sense they were onto something, a familiar drum in his chest caused by trust.

The morning sunlight seemed to brighten and illuminate the room with a renewed sense of determination. The team worked diligently, diving headfirst into the mire of possibilities and potential leads.

‘We know he’s focusing on the seven deadly sins to guide his mission but perhaps one of them is what he focuses on to find his victims and then he assigns them another.’ JJ mused, looking over some of the victim reports. ‘I mean, look at this, two out of the four had at one time used the same hook-up site, the other two might have used a different form of online dating site.’

‘He’s focusing on lust.’ She stated factually, and Hotch’s ears burned at the tips.

‘How can you tell, honey? The victims are different genders, different physicality's and different races? There’s no distinct type. How can you tell his motive is sexual?’ Morgan quipped, curiosity in his husky tone. Pet name making Hotch’s mouth twitch.

'If all of the victims so far were active on at least one form of online dating site.' She answered, her voice steady. 'And if you consider the sin of lust, it's about a strong sexual desire. Online dating, especially sites used for hook-ups, could be where the Unsub is selecting his victims. Maybe he’s using different aliases’ on different sites, which could be why we haven’t been able to find any similar connections.' Her words hung in the air, a new avenue of investigation opening up before them.

This new lead could be the breakthrough they needed. 'Let's pursue this angle. Everyone, start digging into each victim's online footprint, especially their activities on dating platforms.' Hotch commanded his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of excitement. He stole a second to look at her, her words still echoing in his mind from the night before. He felt a sudden confidence that they would catch the Unsub, just as she had said.

The Unsub's sanity mirrored Aaron’s own, he too was thinking of lust. His eyes remained trained on her once the team were back at their desks working the new angle. But where the Unsub's actions led to destruction, his had led to connection, a bond that invigorated him. He was living within a paradox, sinning in one breath and upholding justice in the next, he wouldn't trade this newfound complexity for anything.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the muffled voices of Spencer and Morgan.

Spencer was gesticulating wildly with his hands, his eyes filled with the spark of new evidence. Morgan, ever the listener, nodded along with a thoughtful expression, calling on the other members of the team to gather around. This was their rhythm, their way of working through the intricacies of the case, they were a well-oiled machine.

‘Guys, the kid’s got something.’ Morgan’s voice was clear across the bullpen, a sense of urgency running through it as the members of the team stood from their respective desks to gather around and listen.

Spencer cleared his throat, all eyes on him as he started unravelling his newfound evidence. His words filled the silence, a new rhythm in their symphony of investigation. The rush of the new lead, another piece of the puzzle.

‘Garcia and I looked over some of the victim’s online accounts and I think we’ve found something.’ He gestured in a typically enthusiastic manner, voice hitching in animation from the breakthrough. Once the team were hooked on his words he continued his explanation.

'While on different sites we found that each victim had a private chat with a user and their IP address can be linked to multiple accounts. Each account had an avatar with hidden messages and symbols related to the seven deadly sins.' His revelation echoed through the room, pushing them one step closer to uncovering the Unsub. ‘We know where he is.’

As Spencer spoke, Aaron didn’t try to hide the glance he shared with her, their eyes meeting for a fleeting moment. She’d been right. Of course, she’d been right.

His gaze was still on her when Morgan's voice echoed through the room, "Then let's bring him in.’ With a tilt of her head, she smiled at Hotch, a true and natural smile that made him feel like he was on fire. It was a smile that declared ‘How could you ever doubt me?’.

The room buzzed with renewed energy as everyone began to mobilize. Garcia worked her magic in the background to send the location and information they needed to their phones. This was it, the moment they had been working towards. The moment they would finally stop the killer before he took any more lives.

***

With the Unsub in custody, the team had headed back to the office, each slowly slipping away for the night, ready for a peaceful night’s rest knowing they had another success under their belt. From the security of his office, Hotch breathed a deep sigh. He was about to file away the closed case file, his back to his office door.

‘I told you.’

Her voice startled him, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. He didn't turn, he didn’t need to. He heard her heels stepping across the floor, heading to where he stood. He let her words wash over him, a sweet affirmation of their shared victory. He closed his eyes, absorbing the moment - the scent of her perfume, her voice, their shared triumph. She placed both hands on his shoulders, pulling on the right slightly so he’d turn to face her.

‘I remember.’ He spoke, low and deep. Lifting a hand to push a strand of hair from her face. She captured his hand in hers before it could fall. A strong and certain

‘Is that all you remember of last night?’ She tilted her head - intertwining her fingers with his - a smirk toying on her lips. He couldn’t think about anything other than how she tasted.

His eyes met hers, a spark igniting deeply within him. His senses were flooded with her. He didn’t think, he simply leaned in, capturing her lips with his.

Releasing the grip on his hand so he could hold her waist she moved her hands from his shoulders she tangled them in his hair, tugging lightly inciting a low moan from his throat. She was pulling him impossibly closer, their bodies sharing the same heat.

He didn't want to stop - to break the connection. But he knew they had to. He pulled back reluctantly, his breath hitching as he looked into her eyes. Darkened with the tension between them. He was lost in her, consumed by a sin that tasted so sweet.

He was a man who had always held onto his composure. But with her, he was willing to let go, a man falling, and he knew he would willingly drown in her.

He wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He’d do anything to have her. He would repent, he would go to confession every Sunday and live the most virtuous existence.

‘God, save me.’ He whispered, breath fanning across her lips as they remained inches apart. More tangled together than separated.

‘Did you suddenly turn religious, Aaron?’ She giggled, hand tracing down the side of his face, mapping out his strong features. Her intoxicating laugh echoed through the empty office, a sound he wanted to become familiar with. He craved the softness, the sweet taste of her lips again, and again, and again. He’d do anything to hear the symphony of surrender he could find in her.

His response was non-verbal. he simply let his lips find hers again, their bodies pulling each other into a dance as old as the world itself, but as new and thrilling as the first time. He was used to bitter coffee, cold showers and his mind being corrupted with murder. She was new, she was all sunlight and syrupy covering his senses and submerging him in damnation.

He was a man lost, a man found - in her. Her, the sweetest sin, his only redemption. She was a vice that tasted like heaven.

Aaron Hotchner was a sinner, she would be his redemption.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner fic #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic

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bblovetarot · 3 months

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{⊹} Messages from your higher self

ʚ ═══･୨ꕤ୧･═══ ɞ Pick a Pile ʚ ═══･୨ꕤ୧･═══ ɞ

. ༄ . paid readings . ༄

。°⚠︎°。follow your intuition when choosing a pile. if you're drawn to more than one pile, that's okay! you may have messages in more than one.

。°⚠︎°。tarot readings are not 100% accurate, and do not dictate your future. please keep in mind that you have free will. these readings are also general and aren't specific to one person, so please take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

Pile 1

For those in Pile 1, it appears that many of you are grappling with toxic family dynamics. Whether you're still living with your parents or they play a significant role in your life, there's a strong indication that financial dependence, particularly on a father figure or someone with authority over you, is a prevailing issue. This person may exhibit controlling and domineering behaviors, with a tendency to become aggressive and hotheaded when things don't go their way. The guidance from your higher self emphasizes the importance of trusting your intuition in this situation. It seems that there's an unspoken need for you to speak up, although fear of potential consequences, especially the withdrawal of financial support, may be holding you back. Your higher self encourages you to recognize that the time to assert yourself will come, whether it's now or in the future. There's a call for new energies in your life, a transformation of old thinking patterns and habits that have outlived their purpose. Your true self, characterized by a tendency to speak up against injustice, chattiness, and curiosity, needs the space to fully blossom. Financial independence from this challenging situation is urged by your higher self, along with a release from old toxic family dynamics and ingrained beliefs. Some of you might be dealing with codependency or enmeshment, and the path forward involves gaining freedom, both financially and emotionally. Your intuition has been guiding you, and your higher self wants you to embrace the steps necessary for your personal growth and liberation.

Pile 2

For those in Pile 2, it seems like there's a prevailing sense of lack of motivation in your life right now. You might be hindering your own growth by dimming your own light, lacking confidence in pursuing your true happiness, and hesitating to embark on the journey towards your desired future. You may have held yourself back and engaged in reckless behavior with a cloudy judgment. Your higher self encourages you to reflect on your desires and question whether they are genuinely aligned with your passions. There's a need to dream bigger and deeper, beyond merely seeking material wealth. It's crucial to focus on wishes that truly resonate with your happiness, irrespective of others' opinions. Your path is uniquely yours, and speaking up against those who try to impose their beliefs on you is necessary. Trusting yourself and the universe is vital for your genuine happiness. You cannot live your life for others, and your higher self urges you to believe in receiving what truly makes you happy. Unleashing the confidence you've suppressed is key to navigating your path and fulfilling your wishes. Standing up to those who may look down on you or judge your choices is part of asserting your authenticity. For many of you who might be spiritual in the midst of people heavily influenced by religion, it can be challenging. Your higher self wants you to notice where your true happiness lies, even if it means breaking away from societal expectations. Trusting that the universe will gift you what you deserve requires making the first step and committing to your heart's desires. As empaths, you might absorb others' energies and words deeply, taking them as your own. Your higher self advises you to protect yourself from negative energies, surround yourself with nature, and avoid isolating yourself. Dream big, Pile 2, and embrace the confidence and authenticity within yourself to pave the way for your genuine happiness.

Pile 3

For those in Pile 3, a prevailing sense of feeling heavily blocked is apparent. As intuitive, daydreamers, and emotional individuals, you may sometimes struggle to handle emotions appropriately, feeling inadequate or believing that obtaining your true desires is impossible. Your higher self emphasizes the need to balance feminine and masculine energies within you, recognizing the innate gifts that can manifest your desires. It's essential to understand that manifestation involves not only asking the universe but also playing an active role in achieving your goals. Believing in yourself and taking the required actions are crucial steps, followed by surrendering to the process. Trusting yourself and the universe is the first key. Many of you might be emotionally closed off, neglecting self-pouring. Your higher self encourages a focus on self-care—engaging in activities that bring joy, fulfillment, and calmness. Whether it's a walk in the park, enjoying your favorite drink, or any uplifting experience, prioritize actions that lift your spirits. Creative expression is emphasized for you—writing, drawing, dancing—anything that opens your heart and allows free expression. Past hurts may be weighing you down, causing you to view life with a half-empty perspective. However, your higher self reminds you that the universe holds endless love for you, and it's always available if you open yourself to receive it. Embrace the healing process that the universe is guiding you through, trust the path laid out for you, and never give up on yourself, your abilities, and the support of the universe.

#pick a card #tarot reading #pick a pile #tarot pac #intuitive reading #pick a card reading #intuitive readings #pac #pac reading #tarot

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avelera · 1 year

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Hob Gadling - the absolute maddest of immortal lads

One of the things I love most about Hob Gadling as a character (and as a result, do my best to capture in fic) is how unique his reactions are to immortality and to Dream, and how he so often does the opposite of what one would expect from the genre of "humans granted immortality" but also what the average person and most of the audience expects that they would do with immortality, lending well to the concept that Hob is, genuinely, unhinged and a truly supernatural creature in his own right, which is often lost when the character we see him most often juxtaposed against is Dream, who is even more odd and unhinged if in very different ways

(I've decided to be systematic about this and go through meeting by meeting so strap in, folks it got long, as usual!)

1389 - First of all, Hob simply bragging at all that he doesn't plan to die. OG hipster right there, loving life before it was cool. But also, ok, loving life after being born less than a decade after the Black Plague ended. And in the midst of a great many Black Plague aftershocks! The latter half of the 1300s was a truly abysmal time to be alive, with huge social upheaval, war, plagues, "two bloody Popes fightin'" and in the midst of all this is Hob motherfuckin' Gadling, cheerfully announcing that death is for suckers and he doesn't intend to ever do it.

The man is a soldier! You'd think he'd be more accepting and philosophical about his inevitable death given the time he lives in, the profession he has chosen, the fact that most young men his age were wiped out at age 9 by the second wave of the Black Death, and just, in general, doing all of this while having the misfortune to live in England at the time.

And then when Dream comes up to him, like a complete weirdo, and challenges him on this, Hob is actually pretty nice to him! He gives him a side eye but he also goes along with the question, tells him to ignore his friend's jibes, and cheerfully accepts the wager! I cannot express to you how many turns in the road there are between what a normal person would do and what Hob Gadling does in that moment.

1489 - This one bugs me because the most unexpected thing Hob does is seemingly regress in maturity despite now being 100+ years old.

Now, I'm a huge fan of the theory that he's conning Dream right now and putting on the innocent chucklehead routine to put Dream off from kidnapping him to Faerie Land in exchange for his immortality. HOWEVER, since that's just a headcanon, let's take Hob as he is on the page!

Hob has a job. A Freaking Job. He used to be a bandit and a soldier, things that kind of make sense to do as an immortal (like The Old Guard) when you can't die! You could theoretically make BANK there just by taking dangerous jobs. But Hob doesn't?? He gets a normal-ass job, though in that day's equivalent of getting a job at Microsoft or Apple before they became big, Caxton is like one of the first modern startups in essence, a new technology that made TONS of money once it was imported, and Hob was on the ground floor. Still. HE GOT A JOB as an IMMORTAL. He doesn't seem to have this immortality thing figured out yet? And he doesn't ask Dream hardly any questions about it either! You'd think he'd be frothing at the mouth to better understand wtf happened to him, but once Dream clarifies that he's not the Devil and Hob's soul isn't in danger, that's it! No further questions, your honor! WHAT??

Also, just when you WOULD expect him to beg for death (that IS the genre savvy thing to do, Dream's not wrong!) he DOESN'T. He's more in awe than ever, he seems to be experiencing a second childhood over the fact. He's just vibing and living life. That's so, so unusual in this genre.

Hob also hasn't done any of the savvy things an immortal might do after 100 years! He doesn't actually seem all that angsty about why is he immortal, beyond a bit of fear he might need to pay the piper (Dream) now for this gift. Most vampires in an Anne Rice novel would have gone through about 20 stages of grief after they dealt with the first 100 years of everyone they know and love dying but Hob seems to not only be unbothered but actively gearing up for the next century. It's so bizarre. IT'S SO BIZARRE and I love it because I LOVE characters who DON'T do what you'd expect!

1589 - Hob has a family. HOB HAS A FAMILY. Who in their right MIND would start a family, knowing you'd have to bury your spouse and your children? HOB MOTHERFUCKING GADLING that's who! It's incomprehensible! He does it anyway! It's why I headcanon that he planned to support and nurture his family throughout time, like it was all very deliberate to found a dynasty, but it need not be! Knowing him, he just saw a pretty girl and married her! He didn't even CONSIDER his own wife and children getting angry and jealous with him for having immortality he can't share with them? He didn't even CONSIDER the heartbreak?? WHAT?! Who knows! He just did!

Now, this Hob HAS begun to do SOME of the things one would expect of an immortal - like build up generational wealth, BUT he has a KNIGHTHOOD. What immortal in their right MIND would draw that sort of attention to themselves?? HOB, THAT'S WHO. What are you ON, man, that's INSANE! No wonder he got drowned as a witch the man had ZERO CAUTION AT ALL.

1689 - the man is destitute. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN IF YOU'RE AN IMMORTAL? This is AS puzzling as anything else. Theoretically, Hob could just take a dangerous job with a high fatality rate for quick cash and rebuild his fortune pretty quickly, but he DOESN'T. What went wrong? The possibilities are tantalizing and painfully human that maybe he did do that and failed anyway, or hit even WORSE strings of truly abysmal bad luck.

But somehow, at 300 YEARS OLD it's not until 1789 that we hear Hob has begun socking money away for a rainy day! How does it TAKE YOU that long, sir?? How is that NOT something you figure out in your first century? I've seen a lot of fan writers ascribe a certain amount of immortal savvy to Hob but it's REALLY not there on the page! The guy is NOT genre savvy about immortality AT ALL he doesn't do ANY of the things one would expect, it's absolutely WILD that he falls this low after 300 years after completely failing to, theoretically, CONSIDER this possibility! And then, AND THEN, the guy STILL wants to live. I mean, this one hardly needs saying, that's nuts after what he went through, it's on the page that he's NUTS for this. But the guy is literally in the gutter dreaming of the stars, he is unstoppable I love him so fucking much what a force of nature.

1789 - OK, we've already mentioned that it took until 1789 for Hob to start saving money for a rainy day but let's talk about the fact HE'S NOT ACTUALLY CAREFUL ABOUT BEING CAPTURED?? Again, least genre savvy immortal EVER. You can't die so you'd THINK that being captured or imprisoned or god forbid, thrown down a mine shaft would be the SCARIEST possible fates when you don't have death as an escape, but the guy doesn't even blink at the thought of getting captured by an occultist like Johanna Constantine, dude's totally unbothered! DREAM has to tell him after 400 YEARS that maybe he should be worried about this? THE GUY GOT DROWNED AS A WITCH, picked himself up, dusted himself off, got into some crimes against humanity, and MOVED ON apparently without learning a single goddamn lesson he hasn't had since 1389 which is how to kick ass and look good doing it BUT HE'S NOT EVEN A PROFESSIONAL FIGHTER AS A CAREER, he's just a gentleman of means!

He just... lives a normal human life and seems to expect weird things like being kidnapped by occultists to not happen so long as he stays within those boundaries and you know what? IT SEEMS TO HAVE WORKED! Because to be fair, how many of us outside the bounds of fiction would ever expect the wild stuff like kidnapping to really happen? It's statistically quite vanishingly rare! And that's been all Hob has needed, presumably, to not need to stress since the damn witch trials about his immortality! So yeah, I read fic where Hob is like this very savvy immortal but by 400 YEARS he's BARELY learned to have a savings account under a different name and he STILL doesn't seem too bothered by the possibility of getting hurt or captured! Like, AT ALL?! Absolutely class act right here, top lad, unbelievable, no notes. HOW do you SURVIVE like this as an anomaly, Hob?

1889 - By now, it SEEMS like Hob has bought a clue. He's pretty understated, he's made some amends, SEEMS to have resolved to be less of a shithead, and he's got this immortality thing figured out. It only took him 500 FUCKING YEARS. But again, Hob ISN'T fabulously wealthy as far as we can tell. He's not a megalomaniac and he STILL seems to be vibin' as just a dude doing Just A Dude things like HAVING A JOB and if we borrow from Hob's Leviathan a bit, he's STILL just jumping between industries, just living life down at the normal human level. He hasn't detached from humanity, he lives in the day to day on a level that's just INCONCEIVABLE for a being that's 500 years old.

1989 - Ok, moving on a bit from Hob being an immortal, because getting excited about technology like his brick phone is absolutely so charming I want to squish his cheeks, but he's hardly the only immortal to get excited about that. What I want to talk about is how HOB FORGIVES DREAM for 1889. Because, look, Dream is a prick there. Hob could have been more diplomatic but Dream could have waited for the apology and he didn't.

I have seen SO MANY TAKES where Hob would be MAD after 1889 and RIGHTFULLY SO. But he's NOT. He's not! There are so many fics where he has lingering hurt over it but that's just NOT what the character does! He blames himself! Guy did pretty much nothing wrong except maybe choose his words poorly, but he's blaming HIMSELF for making Dream uncomfortable. Absolute legend. Saints have nothing on this man, that is saint-like behavior. I'd be furious. Hob just misses his friend and BLAMES HIMSELF that Dream isn't there. Not an a single, microscopic trace of anger in sight.

2022 - And then, AND THEN, when he has EVERY REASON to flip out when Dream shows up, finally, after 133 YEARS, after Hob has APPARENTLY stuck around the area just in case, WAITING for him, what does this fucking legend say? "You're late."

THAT'S IT! He's not mad, he totally has a right to be! He doesn't jump out of his chair in shock, that would be a totally expected reaction to! He glances up! He acts like Dream is 5 minutes late instead of over a century WHAT IS THAT?? WHAT IS THAT?! HOW?!! They just settle back with a pint after that like it's nothing. That's not what I would do. I don't think that's what almost any human would do after a shock like that. I still can't wrap my head around it.

So anyway, Hob Gadling, absolutely FASCINATING character from the perspective of just not doing a single fucking thing you'd expect an immortal Just A Dude to do. Goddamn legend right there. Worth remembering for those like me who are obsessed enough to write this guy in fic. He is just so... opposite of everything you'd expect and that is so fucking sexy of him wow

#hob gadling #the sandman #sandman meta #dreamling

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months

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bro a ken x reader where the reader moves to barbieland but she’s got tattoos and he’s got no clue what they are …

The ending to this is absolute arse. Idk what to do.

‘What’s this?’ Ken asked as he gestured to the tattoos you had littered here and there before even more questions followed after. ‘Can they come off? Did someone draw on you like Weird Barbie? If so was it with permanent marker?’ Ken then proceeded to smile, puffing his chest out like a proud bird, ‘I learnt that big word all by myself.’

You chuckled, now realising that ever since you came to BarbieLand there wasn’t a single person in sight who was even remotely as tatted up as you were, and so all of Ken’s random inquiries concerning them made all the more sense. ‘These are called tattoos and no they can’t come off, and I guess you could say that someone ‘drew on me’ but not with a permanent marker pen, but instead a piece of equipment that some might consider a painful process.’ You shrugged. ‘Though that depends on the pain tolerance and the placement of the tattoo.’ The look on Ken’s face was borderline hysterical to you with how wide his eyes became as they trailed over your most recent tattoo as though it’ll jump out and bite him.

‘Did you say painful? Like someone pinching your skin type of painful?’ Ken asked.

‘Hmmm. Think more like being stung a thousand times when in the midst of the outlining of the tattoo, only to then feel like your being scratched repeatedly and all over by a stray cat when they start the shading and or colouring process.’ You told him.

‘So you’re meaning to tell me that you were being hurt!’ Ken cried, retracting his hand away from you as though he was going to cause you more harm, which was something he doesn’t want to have happen. ‘Why would you or anyone ever want to go through that horrible process?!’ He said, voice muffled with his hands clasped over his mouth. You should’ve probably known that Ken would’ve reacted like this but the damage was already done, and yet you couldn’t help but find it sweet when he exemplified concern over your well-being, despite the fact that it was over something as briefly painful as a tattoo.

‘Beauty is pain as they say,’ you began, ‘but I found that once you get your first tattoo, you’ll soon enough want more to add to the collection. Think of it this way, we use tattoos as a way of self expression, some of them can be of something meaningful or something fun and cartoonish and hold no meaning at all other then it looked cool at the time. But I think they quite cool, don’t you Ken?’ The blonde then removed his hands from his mouth, moving himself closer to you as to get a better look at your tattoos in general, just as a smile appeared on his face. ‘They’re so cool.’ He admitted but it was clear he was still a little conflicted about the pain you put yourself through for a tattoo. ‘But they still sound a little frightening.’ He admitted to you with a weak chuckle and you couldn’t do anything but understand and sympathise where he was coming from.

‘Yeah, they can be frightening at first but I promise you Ken, I wasn’t in that much pain for very long, besides I was the one who wanted it done, the tattoo artists were just doing their job.’ You reassured him as you felt his fingers gingerly trace the tattoo, taking in every last detail as he looked at it with a new found perspective. Your tattoos are beautiful to Ken and he’d show appreciation for each and every one by tracing his fingers over it, almost as though he’d ruin the artistry that went into them if he went any harder. He found tattoos fascinating but would probably never get one himself and even if he did, he hoped that this tattoo artist that you talk about could give him a horse portrait, or at least something related to horses at the very least. That would be cool.

#barbie #barbie imagines #barbie imagine #ken x reader #ken x y/n #ken x you #Ken fic #ken fluff #Ken imagines #Ken imagine

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