#if he wanted to live with ME for eternity?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snwprl · 2 days

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𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧

pairing. lee chan (dino) x reader genre. fluff. warnings. bestfriends to lovers trope, kissing summary. "Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?", "Hmm, maybe I'll be a famous astronaut" Chan chuckled and asked. "That's cool, but what if... what if I was with you?" word count. 1352 a/n. GUYS! MAESTRO. STREAM. NOW! I wasn't going to post this until later but i had to talk about maestro being such a masterpiece! i had to come here and talk! seventeen always hits hard with their comebacks! I'M CRYINGGGGG! BRB

m.list

The worn swing set creaked as Y/n pushed herself lazily back and forth, the setting sun casting a warm glow on the children's playground. Chan sat beside her, fiddling with a loose shoelace. They'd spent countless afternoons here, building forts, climbing the rusty monkey bars, and forging a friendship that transcended scraped knees and shared ice cream cones.

"Hey, Y/n," Chan started, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/n stopped swinging and tilted her head towards him. "Yeah?"

"Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?"

The question which seemed to come out of nowhere, hung in the air, a foreign concept to their ten-year-old minds. Ten years seemed like an eternity. Y/n pondered, kicking her legs out to propel the swing higher.

"Hmm, maybe I'll be a famous astronaut," she declared, her eyes sparkling with imaginary constellations. "I'll be exploring different planets, discovering new life forms."

Chan chuckled. "That's cool, but what if... what if I was with you?"

His question warmed Y/n's cheeks. "With me, on a spaceship?"

"No, silly," Chan mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Just... with you, in general."

The sudden shift in seriousness surprised Y/n. She felt a flicker of something new ignite in her chest, something beyond the comfort of a best friend. It was a seed planted that day, buried beneath the innocence of childhood.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

Years flew by like leaves in a whirlwind. They navigated the awkward middle school phase together, Chan with his ever-growing frame and Y/n with her blossoming self-confidence. High school brought a new wave of emotions. Y/n found herself stealing glances at Chan during lunch, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his jaw clenched in concentration while studying.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, while sprawled on the living room floor surrounded by college brochures, Y/n decided to play a prank.

"Hey, Chan," she nudged him playfully. "Rumor has it you've had this giant crush on someone since forever. True or false?"

Chan choked on his laughter, spitting out a stray Cheerio. "What?! Who told you that?"

Y/n smirked while building up a lie. "The gossip fairies, obviously. Come on, spill. Who's the lucky girl?"

Chan averted his gaze, cheeks flushing a familiar red. "It's... no one. Just a silly rumor."

"You're telling me that you've had zero crushes your entire life? That's bullshit. Tell me who it is." Chan remained stubbornly silent.

“It’s not like that” Chan shyly replied while burying his face on some random college brochure.��

“Then tell me..” Y/N tried to tickle him, a playful war of wills unfolding between them.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

College brought them to different cities, the constant physical connection severed. Yet, technology bridged the gap. Late-night phone calls, filled with laughter and whispered secrets, kept them close. One particularly lonely night, Y/n mustered up the courage to revisit their childhood question.

"Hey, Channie," she said, her voice soft over the phone line.

"Yeah, Y/n?"

"Do you remember when we were little, sitting on that old swing set?"

“Yeah, you said you wanted to be a famous astronaut” he softly laughed at the irony because you were studying to be a graphic designer.

“True, but do you remember what you said?” Y/n's heart hammered against her ribs.

That childhood question, once a whisper in the golden light of the setting sun, now hung heavy with unspoken emotions.

"Nope! No. No, I don't," Chan interjected a little too quickly.

Y/n chuckled. "Come on, don't play dumb. We were ten, talking about the future."

"Right, the future," Chan mumbled, his voice strained. "Look, it's getting late, we should probably—"

"Do you remember what you said?" Y/n pressed gently.

Silence. Then, a barely audible whisper, "Yeah, I remember."

"You said you wanted to be with me in the next ten years." The words hung heavy in the air, a shared memory dusted off after years.

"Y/n..."

A pause. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest. "Well, Chan?"

He was in love with her. The weight of that realisation both terrified and thrilled her. It was like a missing puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

They graduated, entered the 'real world', and found themselves back in the same city. Y/n, now a budding graphic designer, and Chan, pursuing his passion for music. They fell into a comfortable routine, spending weekends catching up, sharing dreams and anxieties.

One evening, walking home from their favourite ramen joint, the city lights painting the night sky, a comfortable silence settled between them. Suddenly, Chan stopped, turning towards her.

"Y/n," he began, his voice serious. "There's something I need to tell you."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. "I... I've been wanting to tell you something for a long time," Chan finished, his voice barely a whisper. The streetlamp cast a golden glow on his face, highlighting the vulnerability in his eyes. Y/n, her own cheeks burning, felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

"What is it, Chan?" she prompted, her voice barely above a whisper. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, with a rush that took his breath away, Chan blurted out, "I'm in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time."

The weight of years lifted from Y/n's shoulders. A soft smile played on her lips. "You just found out?" she teased, mirroring his confession from their phone call years ago.

Chan's surprised laugh was a relief in the tense air. "You... you already knew?"

Y/n nodded shyly. "Maybe a little bit." Their eyes locked, both hesitantly reaching out, fingers brushing against each other like a test of the waters. The touch sent a spark of electricity through them, a jolt that ignited a dormant fire.

Suddenly, a loud car horn blared, startling them apart. They both burst into laughter, the tension dissipating into nervous energy.

"So," Y/n said, a playful glint in her eyes, "what are you going to do about it?"

Chan grinned, his eyes twinkling with a newfound confidence. "Well, how about we start with this?"

Before Y/n could react, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a hesitant peck. It was a simple touch, barely a brush of skin, but it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.

They pulled back, both breathless. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes searching his. The spark was undeniable.

"Again," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Chan didn't hesitate this time. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. His kiss was different this time, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions they had both kept buried for years. It was a meeting of finally acknowledged feelings, a slow burn igniting into a passionate dance.

They pulled away slowly, foreheads resting together. The night air buzzed with the unspoken promises hanging between them.

"Wow," Y/n breathed, a shaky smile on her lips.

"Yeah," Chan murmured, his voice husky. "Wow."

They stood there for a moment, lost in the afterglow of their first real kiss. The streetlight seemed to dim just a fraction, creating a world of their own under the city lights.

"So," Y/n began, a playful smile returning to her face. "Does this mean no more pretending you don't remember the swing set incident?"

Chan chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Maybe I can make it up to you. Next time, the ten year plan will be a bit more specific."

Y/n laughed, leaning into him. "I like the sound of that."

Their future, once a fuzzy blur, was now starting to take shape, coloured by a newfound certainty. The childhood promise whispered on a swing set had finally blossomed into something real, a love story finally finding its voice.

As they walked hand-in-hand towards their home, the city lights twinkled above, a silent witness to the beginning of something beautiful – a love story ten years in the making.

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nemesiswithabow · 3 days

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Zuko/fem!reader

“Look at me.”

His heart raced as he struggled to steady his breathing, consumed by an intensity he couldn’t ignore. Pride warred with desire within him, his ego demanding recognition while his heart yearned for connection. He knew he should turn away. She stood out amidst the crowd, a vision of beauty that stirred something deep within him. His eyes traced the curve of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, each detail etching itself into his mind. He longed to reach out, to bridge the distance between them, but a lifetime of conditioning held him back. Despite the lively chatter and laughter that surrounded her, she seemed lost in her world, engaged in conversation with strangers as if unaware of the tension between them. He felt a surge of frustration, a pang of jealousy as he watched her interact with others.

Didn’t she know he was there?

Zuko nervously cleared his throat, his gaze shifting slightly as he searched for the right words. “Uh, hey,” he began, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

She looked up, curiosity evident in her expression as she met his gaze. “Hey, Zuko,” she replied, offering a warm smile.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Zuko awkwardly fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “I, uh, just wanted to say… uh, you look really nice today,” he managed to stammer out, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

A soft blush dusted her cheeks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she said, her smile growing a touch wider. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

Zuko’s cheeks flushed even deeper at the unexpected compliment, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Thanks,” he replied, feeling a surge of warmth at her words. “So, uh, do you… uh, want to maybe… do something later?”

Chest tightened. Pride urged to turn away, to maintain the facade of indifference. He caught a glimpse of Mai, her presence a stark reminder of the forbidden nature of his yearnings. Guilt mingled with an ache, a heavy weight that threatened to suffocate him. He knew the consequences, the weight of duty to his nation pressing down on him, dictating the path he must tread. A searing pain gnawed at his heart, a constant reminder of the sacrifices he must make. In the depths of his soul, he longed to hold his beloved close, to escape the chains that bound him, to run away with her into the night. And yet, as the evening before their arranged marriage unfolded in celebration, the ache in his heart only deepened, becoming almost unbearable.

“Please.”

Their eyes met under the soft glow of the moonlight, a silent understanding passing between them. Zuko’s heart pounded in his chest as he reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch tender and hesitant.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Me too,” she confessed, her voice barely audible over the sound of their racing hearts.

In a moment that felt like an eternity, their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss. It was everything Zuko had ever dreamed of and more.

As they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, Zuko felt a sense of peace wash over him. He knew that this was just the beginning of their journey together, but in that moment, it felt like they had all the time in the world.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, Zuko couldn’t help but feel grateful for the chance to finally be with the person he loved more than anything in the world.

He studied her, his gaze tracing every line, committing them to memory with a hunger that burned within him. From the gentle curve of her lips to the delicate arch of her brow, he drank in every detail, each feature a masterpiece that begged to be worshipped. His eyes lingered on the way her hair fell in soft waves. Imagined running his fingers through those strands, feeling their smooth texture beneath his touch. He imagined pressing kisses to the tip of her nose, the smooth expanse of her forehead, lingering on each delicate feature as if trying to capture the essence of her being.

And oh, her lips, soft and inviting, seemed to whisper his name. He imagined drowning in her eyes, losing himself in the depths of their endless pools, adoring the flutter of her lashes as they brushed against her cheeks. Perhaps, they both sensed that this could be their last time together, hence every glance, every touch, etched into his memory for eternity.

Sokka strolled into the room, a mischievous grin on his face. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Zuko’s face burned with embarrassment as he shot Sokka a pleading look, silently begging him to leave them alone.

But Sokka just chuckled, leaning in closer to whisper in Zuko’s ear, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your secret crush.”

His eyes widened in alarm, cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. “It’s not like that!” he protested, his voice rising in panic.

She couldn’t help but laugh at their antics, shaking her head in amusement as she watched the two of them bicker like an old married couple.

Sokka just grinned, clapping Zuko on the back with a hearty laugh. “Relax, buddy, your secret’s safe with me,” he said, shooting him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room, leaving Zuko to wallow in embarrassment.

“Hey, she is really something, huh?”

Sokka whispered, clapping a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, his eyes reflecting a touch of sympathy.

“You two… that’s rough, buddy, I know.”

His words hung in the air. Zuko merely nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a faint, grateful smile. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about their bond.

He imagined tracing the contours of her body with a tender yet desperate touch, exploring each curve, almost feeling the warmth of her skin against his lips, the way he used to.

As Zuko traced her shoulder with his lips, she whispered back, tilting her head to offer him more space, “Does that feel good?”

“Mmm,” he murmured in agreement, voice low and close to her ear, “I could stay like this forever.”

She laughed softly. Each kiss had been a silent promise, now haunting him.

A cold knot of jealousy twisted in his gut. Zuko watched the stranger approach you, and the way the man smiled sparked a fire in him that was both possessive and painful. His fists clenched at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms as he fought the urge to intervene, to claim his space beside you, where he felt he rightfully belonged.

He recalled the softness of your laughter echoing against the quiet hum of the night, your silhouette outlined by the moonlight as you lay beside him. The warmth of your skin under his fingertips, the way your breath hitched when his lips traced a path along your collarbone. No one, he thought bitterly, could possibly know you like he did. No one could understand the way you arched into his touch, or the soft, pleading whispers that spilled from your lips.

With each gentle touch, you surrendered, body arching instinctively towards his.

“Zuko,” you murmured, voice soft as a melody. Feeling your response beneath him and thrusts growing more desperate. Your fingers traced idle patterns on his chest, a silent language only he could read.

“Stay,” you whispered, “please stay.”

Every glance the man threw your way, every seemingly innocent touch, felt like a theft of what was once sacred between you and him. In his mind’s eye, Zuko replayed the moments you had shared, each memory a testament to the connection that he feared was slipping away as this intruder laughed at something you said. He tried to remind himself of the laughter you shared in your most tender moments, the secrets exchanged with kisses and quiet promises. How could any man understand you as he did? No one, he silently vowed, would ever see the parts of you that you revealed only to him.

Beneath the soft glow of chandeliers, the grand ballroom came alive with the melodies of the evening’s dance. Couples twirled gracefully, lost in the enchantment of the music. Your eyes met those of a mysterious stranger and with a flicker of curiosity, you accepted his outstretched hand, drawn into the whirlwind of the evening’s festivities. Meanwhile, across the room, Zuko stood in with Mai, their movements fluid yet devoid of warmth. Despite the composed facade he wore, you could sense the fire burning in his gaze. From time to time, his eyes would stray in your direction, catching yours in a fleeting moment of connection. As the dance unfolded, you found yourself stealing glances at Zuko from over your partner’s shoulder, each look igniting a spark.

With each step, each graceful turn, the distance between you seemed to shrink, until you stood mere inches apart. As if drawn by an invisible force, your eyes met in a collision of emotions, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. Caught in the depths of his eyes, Zuko seemed to drown in the sea of your own. For a fleeting instant, time stood still. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring you together. Mai in his arms, their steps matching the rhythm of the music, his mind drifted back to that fateful night when he had held you close, your bodies swaying to a melody only the two of you could hear. Just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

She reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek, her touch gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion that words could never convey.

“I love you.”

Her steps faltered, a silent hesitation gripping her heart. She turned back, her hand reaching out instinctively, drawn to him by an invisible force. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through both of them. His skin felt warm beneath her touch. She pulled her hand away, her gaze meeting his for one final moment. There was so much she wanted to say, so many words left unspoken between them. With a heavy heart, she turned and walked away, each step carrying her further from him. And as she disappeared into the night, he remained standing there, his heart full of regret, a silent witness to the end of their chapter together.

“I love you.”

#zuko x reader #atla x reader #fire lord zuko #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender #atla zuko #zuko #prince zuko #avatar zuko

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kirby0strombolli · 17 hours

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R U Mine?

matt sturniolo x reader

Summary: After a heated argument, Matt is determined to win back what's his.

Warnings: cursing, kissing, smut.

A/n: Based on R U mine? by Arctic Monkeys!

matt's pov

In my mind, when she's not right there beside me.

I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be

I don't want to be here.

As I trudged through my shift at the coffee place, every moment felt like an eternity, and I was already having a pretty shit day so far.

I'd currently spilled hot tea on myself, was late to work, and pissed on by a dog.

And hungover from last night.

So, to say the least, today was a shit day.

And I was on edge. She wasn't replying to my texts. She was all that I could think about. I couldn't focus on anything today.

Glancing at the previous messages I'd sent her last night, which she'd read, I sigh, my mind in a thousand places.

y/n <3 me R U mine? 04:25 ✓✓

Carrying a heavy tray of coffee, I glance at the clock, willing time to move faster, to see the girl I'd loved for so long, but it seemed to mock me, ticking away at a snail's pace.

The dull hum of the espresso machine behind me grated on my nerves, and the chatter of customers grated on my ears.

Everything was fucking annoying me.

Before I even have the chance to turn back to my tray, I feel an elbow in my face. Caught off guard, I drop the tray, and the shattering sounds meet my ears first.

I squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth together.

I don't yell. I don't even act. I don't turn to meet whoever it was who had just pushed me off the edge.

'I'm going crazy.' I tell myself, 'being away from her'.

I'm pulled back to reality when I hear disapproving chatter, and my eyes snap open, to be met with annoyed faces.

Clenching my jaw, I almost rip my apron off my body, slamming it on the nearest table before grabbing my stuff and storming out the coffee shop, the door slamming shut behind me.

As I stepped outside, not daring to look back, as if it were planned, thunder rumbled overhead, unleashing a torrent of rain.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, mirroring my turbulent mood.

Great. Just- great.

With a sarcastic quip muttered under my breath, I quickly made my way to my motorbike, rain pelting down on me mercilessly.

But as I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, I stop in my tracks.

Without looking, I knew who it was. Her.

With my head bowed against the rain, I pull my phone out, checking the notification.

I was correct.

As I read the message, my heart jumped to my throat.

y/n <3 me R U mine? 04:25 ✓✓ y/n <3 We need to talk. mine in 10. me make it 5. ✓✓

I sigh in relief, and, not wasting a moment, before revving the motorbike engine, throwing my helmet atop my head, and steadying myself with a deep breath.

I could feel my clothes clinging to my skin, soaked through, but I hardly noticed.

I was numb.

All I could think about was the message I'd just received from the girl I couldn't even live without.

I couldn't help myself.

Even under the influence of alcohol last night, she was the only thing I could think about.

About her being mine.

And I can't help myself

All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"

As Matt revved his motorcycle through the pouring rain, each drop felt like a palpable reminder of his urgency.

The rain pelted against his helmet, the sound mingling with the roar of the engine as he raced towards her house.

With each passing moment, his anticipation grew, the image of her lips haunting his thoughts.

The rhythm of the rain matched the pounding of his heart as he neared her apartment.

Each streetlight illuminated the path ahead, guiding him towards his destination.

In his mind, there was only one thing that mattered – for her to be his.

And as he approached her house, his pulse quickened with the promise of what awaited him beyond her door.

Without bothering to park the motorbike, I jump off, tearing my helmet off before making my way to her door.

I stop outside her door, staring at the white paint that coated it's frame.

The as if my thoughts spoke out loud, the door opened, revealing y/n.

Her eyes seemed to shine in the dull light of her apartment room, and the way she bit her lip left me feeling dizzy.

And the way her tiny shorts accentuated her curves...

As my eyes roam over her figure, I can feel hers on mine, too.

"What are you staring at, loser?" she teased, a playful smile gracing her lips.

My heart skips a beat, caught off guard by her words, and I look down nervously.

But as I feel her hands on my face, my anxiety disappears, replaced with desire as I look up, lips pursed about to reply.

She's a silver lining, climbin' on my desire

Before I could say anything else, she pulled me into a kiss, her hands buried in my soaked hair.

Pleasure surged through me as our lips met, the taste of rain and desire mingling in the air.

My hands roam eagerly over her body, pulling her closer to me as my hands rest on her waist.

As we pull apart, she winks with a sly smile and grabs my hand, electricity shooting through me.

Without a word, she backed into the room, drawing me with her like a magnet. I followed willingly, the intensity of her gaze pulling me closer.

Then, as soon as we were inside, our lips met once again, mine moving against her soft ones with urgency.

In the midst of our embrace, I kick the door closed behind us, the sound barely registering as we lost ourselves in each other.

I feel her smile against the kiss and we stumble backward together, willing to find the bed.

As we stumbled backward, we ended up on her unmade bed, our bodies entwined as we lay on our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

Our breaths slowed and I turned to her, scooting closer, my lips hovering above her collarbone.

I pressed my lips slowly, trailing down her neck, biting softly as I felt her tremble against me, yearning for more.

As I make my way back up to her lips, she gently pulls away, and smashes her lips against mine again.

This time the kiss was needy, full of light moans as I prod my tongue at her lower lip before slipping into her mouth, fighting for dominance.

I detach my lips from hers, panting for breath, watching her swiftly unbutton her shirt, pulling it over her head.

''Well, that was quick.'' I smirk and she hits my arm playfully.

I admire her semi-exposed breasts, peaking over the top of her bra, I feel myself get even harder than I was when she opened the door.

I groan as she palms me through my black sweats, my erection clear.

"Fuck." I bite the inside of my cheek as I look down at her, her hair dishevelled, her cheeks flushed, the red marks on her neck stating she was mine.

She still looked beautiful.

But I needed to know one thing.

"Before I do this, I need to know one thing." I lick my lips, awaiting a response.

"I'm ready, Matt." She looks up at me through my eyelashes, her hands reaching for my belt.

I shake my head, the question floating in my head.

She cocks her head, confused.

I brush away a strand of her hair, my nerves kicking in.

"Well, are you mine?" I bite my cheek hard, prepared for the worst.

She looks up in realisation, and with a smirk she replies;

''Fuck yeah.''

"Say it." I demand, pounding into her from behind, the room full of breathy moans and the squelching of my length inside her perfect cunt.

She says something inaudible into the pillow, letting out short whimpers after I grip her hair and lift her head from the pillow.

"Want to hear your pretty noises, yeah? Now say it." I grip her hips harshly and pound impossibly deeper into her, hitting that sweet spot several times as she yells my name.

"Fuck, matt...I'm yours." She whined, bucking her hips up to mine, her knuckles turning white from grasping the sheets.

"Good girl." I grunt, "Gonna come..." I'm barely finished as I feel her release around me, her cunt squeezing around my cock as I release my load into her.

I ride out our highs, with my head thrown back in ecstasy, hips snapping against hers, never wanting to stop as I hear her cries from under me, fuelling me to go on.

Eventually, my pace slows, and I slowly pull out, patting her ass, as I sit up, pulling my boxers back on.

I lean back against the frame of the bed, my arm resting on her hip.

When she doesn't move, I gently climb over her, and lay next to her, looking up at the ceiling.

"You good?" I ask, peering over at her, concerned.

"That was the best sex i've ever had." She slowly turns around to face me, her voice hoarse.

"mhm?" I smile, running my tongue over my teeth with a slow, deliberate motion, the gesture seemingly innocent yet undeniably seductive.

My eyes locked with hers, holding her captive in the intensity of my gaze, as if silently conveying my unspoken desires.

God she looked so good right now.

She nods, a small smile plastered on her face.

I grin, momentarily placing a kiss on her cheek before jumping up to the bathroom.

"All you and that pretty little cunt." I smirk, grabbing a towel and wetting it.

Before making my way back to her, I turn the water on, and grab some towels.

When I return back to her, she's barely sitting up, her lips red, hickeys along her neck, hair a mess.

She still looked like an angel.

"Hey, beautiful." I kneel on the floor, gently prizing open her legs, settling the towel above her cum-covered pussy.

"Who said I wanted to stop?" I look up at her; She has a smirk on her face as she moves the towel aside, caressing my face.

"I want your face in between my thighs so bad," She whispers, and I feel my just soft dick get hard again in the matter of seconds.

I swallow hard, gripping her thighs,"Yeah, ma?" She nods, biting her lip and I lower my face down, not breaking eye contact, working my way up to her cunt, peppering kisses down her thighs, biting harshly as she lets out gasps and soft moans, enough to make me come in my pants, there and then.

When I finally reached my destination, I paused, taking a moment to admire the sight before me. Her thighs were spread wide, her pussy glistening.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I spread her folds apart, not being able to resist the urge to bury my face between her thighs, to explore every inch of her with my tongue.

I traced slow circles around her clit, relishing in the way she squirmed beneath me, her hands clutching at the sheets as she begged for more.

I don't need to look up to tell she's enjoying this as she begins to grasp my hair, pulling on the strands lightly, making me groan, the vibrations from my voice making her even more wet.

I lick a stripe up her wet cunt, my eyes rolling to the back of my head at how good she tasted.

"taste so good, ma."

I can hear her hitched breaths and quiet whimpers, each sound of hers edging me to go faster. I begin to swirl my tongue over wet pussy, my nose brushing over her clit.

"don't stop, matt" she whines, bucking her hips up onto my face.

I plunge my tongue into her cunt, dripping with her slick arousal, and thrust it aggressively into her, my head buried deep between her legs.

Her broken moans and sobs go straight to my throbbing erection, not helping me as I swirl my tongue in and out of her, the lewd sounds enough to push me over the edge.

Her hands find their way to my hair again, and this time she pulls my brown locks hard, the pain subsiding into pleasure, and as I hum against her clit, she presses the back of my head impossibly closer to her throbbing pussy.

"Fuck, Matt- I'm close..." She gasps, in between pauses.

I mumble something inaudible in between her thighs, flicking my tongue over her clit at an ungodly pace.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna-" she whimpered, her voice strained with the intensity of her impending release.

But before she finished her sentence, I felt her squirt on my face, and her body arched against my face as I continued to plunge my tongue impossibly deeper into her, helping her riding out the waves of her orgasm.

Slowly, my pace stops, and I reach up to kiss her, savoring the taste of her arousal on my lips. As we pull away, I lick my lips, holding eye contact.

"So, how are you?" I ask, my eyes scanning her body.

"Good," She giggles against my chest, her cheeks flustered. I straddle her, pressing a kiss to her nose as she squirms underneath me.

I look down at my pants then back up at her.

"You really do know how to make me come."

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t-r99 · 1 day

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Bathtime

Listen right . . . Listen to me . . . I don't know who was simping for Nagi on the animation team but the fucking difference here,

Nagi Seishiro x reader

Just some Nagi fluff

wc 740

Nagi always thought that showering and washing was such a hassle, but bathing was nice and relaxing when he could get in a bath or a big enough tub. His showering routine was always quick and simple.

The Nagi Seishiro Style: Low Effort Body Washing Technique consisted of covering himself with soap then washing it all away in one go before finally getting in the bath and closing his eyes, relaxing after a long day.

That was back in the day when he was a teenager living in his little student apartment and later when he lived at the Blue Lock facility. Going pro let him get a nice, big apartment with a wonderful bathtub that he could lay in and float for as long as he wanted.

It did get lonely at times, though. Nagi had almost forgotten what loneliness felt like after meeting Reo and later everyone else at Blue Lock. Then you came along and a few things changed. Nagi was no longer lonely, to begin with, and his washing routine changed.

It started with you getting up one day not long after moving in, pushing his soft hair back and kissing his temple. Nagi only whined lazily now now that you were no longer in his presence and asked, "Where y'going?"

"Shower." You simply said.

Nagi pouted after you.

You stopped just before leaving the bedroom, turning around. "Do you . . ." Nagi blinked in question, no longer pouting. "want to join me?" You asked.

On one hand, yes of course. On the other, two people showering together sounded like torture. Nagi figured the two of you would take turns under the stream, wash and wait to rinse while standing there awkwardly, maybe be in each other's ways. "Sounds like a hassle." He mumbled.

No. That was not the answer you were looking for. You walked back to the bed and took both his hands. "Come ooon." You pulled gently, urging him to follow you.

"But I don't want to shower." Nagi let you pull him up and off the bed, lazily walking with you as you tugged on his hands.

That was the first time you two showered together, and now you are for what Nagi is guessing is the thousandth time, or maybe the ten thousandth time. Nagi has no idea how many times it has been, he just really loves getting in the shower with you. He loves sitting in the tub and let you run your fingers through his hair, working the shampoo in and massaging his scalp to the point where he almost starts to purr like a cat.

His eyes flutter closed as you work the shampoo in. He could sit like this for all of eternity and just let you massage his head and run your fingers through his hair.

"Rinse time." You say.

Uuuhn . . . He's so relaxed right now that your smooth voice threatens to put him to sleep. You're under the water stream. Nagi keeps his eyes closed and lets you pull him closer to you until the water washes over him and rinses the shampoo out.

He leans further against you, forehead touching yours. You smile at the way he sighs and groans, relaxing further under the warm water. "What are you, a cat?"

"Meow." Nagi mumbles tiredly.

You laugh at that.

He loves your laugh. Nagi loves your laugh almost as much as he loves the way you work conditioner into his hair until it's soft and smooth and perfect to run your fingers through.

A few minutes pass. The tub is now filled and Nagi is happy to lean back against the edge because he can pull you into his embrace and hold you close to his toned chest. The roles change this way and now he gets to be the one to play with your hair while you relax against him.

Nagi is more than happy to have met you. Not only does he not have to wash himself anymore, he also gets to cuddle you in the bathtub and kiss your soft lips as often as he likes.

Your skin is soft against his, your body warm and comforting. Your arms are around him and your hands are on his back, massaging his tense muscles after a long day of training while littering his shoulders and neck with soft kisses.

Shower time quickly became Nagi's favourite time of the day after you moved in.

#blue lock #bllk #nagi seishiro #blue lock nagi #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi fluff

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golbrocklovely · 2 days

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complicated // sam golbach

A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)

prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam

word count: 4020

~~~~~~~~~~~

To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.

I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.

God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.

Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.

And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.

The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.

And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.

This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.

I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.

If he can have fun, so can I.

~~~~

“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.

I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”

He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”

“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.

He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”

I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”

“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly.

I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”

He smirked, “Try me.”

I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”

Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.

He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”

“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”

I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”

“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.

Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”

I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”

Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”

“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.

I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.

“What do you want?” He asked.

I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”

“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.

I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."

“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.

“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.

He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.

He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”

I glanced up, “A year?”

“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.

My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."

He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”

“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.

“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.

“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.

I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”

“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.

“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.

“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.

I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!

“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.

I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”

Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”

I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”

“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.

“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”

“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.

“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.

He hummed, “I know the feeling.”

“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.

Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.”

“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.

“What about me?” He chuckled.

“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.

“What do you wanna know?” He asked.

I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.”

“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”

“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.

Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”

“Not many truly do.” I added.

“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.

“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”

I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”

“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”

I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”

“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”

I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”

“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.

“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”

“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.

“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.

He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”

I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”

“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.

“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.

He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”

“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.

He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”

I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”

“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.

I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”

Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"

He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."

I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his.

They looked awfully nice....

I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.

Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.

Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”

I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”

“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.

I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.”

“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."

He agreed, letting out a light laugh.

We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.

I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?

Fuck, I just... needed him.

Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.

“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.

That's all I needed to hear.

I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.

He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”

I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?”

“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.

“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.

He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”

“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.

“Fine with me.”

He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.

I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.

He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”

“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”

“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.

“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”

“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."

“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.

“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.

I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire.

Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.

Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.

He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”

“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.

“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter.

As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.

“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.

“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.

He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."

I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”

He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”

Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.

“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.

“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.

My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”

“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.

I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.

His tip teased me, “You ready?”

I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”

He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.

I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.

But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.

Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.

“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.

“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”

“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.

He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.

He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?”

I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.

Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”

I blinked, staring into his eyes.

“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.

His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”

He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”

I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.

“You need more?” Sam growled.

I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.

I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”

“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-

I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.

He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..

Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.

“You right there for me?” He hissed.

I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”

“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.

He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.

“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.

He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”

“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.

He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”

My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.

He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”

I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.

Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.

The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.

We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.

I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.

“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.

“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.

Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”

I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”

“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.

“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”

I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.

Definitely a bigger appetite…

#sam golbach #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby smut #sam golbach fic #sam golbach angst #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach oneshot #colby brock #sam and colby

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gojonegs · 2 days

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Eternal Promise: A Tale of Love and Loss.

synopsis: In the enchanting world of 'Eternal Promise: A Tale of Love and Loss,' Y/N, a spirited sorcerer, shares a deep and joyful bond with Satoru, her beloved partner. Together, they navigate life's ups and downs with laughter and love, their shared dreams weaving a tapestry of hope for the future. But it all changes quickly when tragedy strikes, shattering their idyllic existence and plunging them into a world of grief and despair. Through the lens of their once vibrant relationship, 'Eternal Promise explores the transformative power of love in the face of life's most devastating challenges.

wc: 4.8k

warning: fluff to angst to fluff! Happy ending anyway enjoy.

————————————————————————

In the bustling halls of Jujutsu High School, amidst the chaos of students and teachers bustling about, Satoru Gojo and I shared a quiet moment together, our fingers intertwined as we sat on a bench in the courtyard.

The warm afternoon sun cast dappled shadows through the trees, creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped us in a cocoon of tranquility. It was a rare moment of peace amidst our hectic lives as Jujutsu sorcerers, and we savored every precious second of it.

Satoru's eyes gleamed mischievously as he glanced at me, a playful grin spreading across his face. "You know, Y/N, they say love is like jujutsu: unpredictable, powerful, and sometimes it makes you want to scream into the void."

I chuckled softly, leaning my head against his shoulder. "You've definitely mastered the art of charming metaphors, Satoru," I replied, my voice tinged with amusement.

Satoru's grin widened, his gaze softening as he looked at me. "Only because I have the most inspiring muse," he said, his tone sincere.

I felt my cheeks flush at his words, a warm fluttering sensation spreading through my chest. "You always know just what to say, don't you?" I said, unable to hide the affection in my voice.

Satoru shrugged casually, but I could see the hint of pride in his eyes. "What can I say? It's a gift," he quipped, earning a playful shove from me.

As we sat together, lost in the comfort of each other's presence, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just Satoru and me, two souls intertwined in a bond that defied all logic and reason.

And as we sat there, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as I had Satoru by my side, I could face anything with courage and grace.

We remained there for what felt like an eternity, content to simply be in each other's company, our fingers laced together as if nothing else in the world mattered. The sounds of the bustling school faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft whispers of the breeze.

With each passing moment, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into the warmth of Satoru's presence, his easy laughter and infectious charm wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Despite the blindfold covering his eyes, he exuded an aura of confidence and assurance, as if he could see right through to the depths of my soul.

And as I gazed into the darkness behind his blindfold, I knew that he felt the same way, his unwavering gaze filled with an unspoken affection that spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that shared moment of understanding, we were no longer just two sorcerers bound by duty and destiny; we were partners, confidants, and soulmates.

But even as the outside world continued to spin around us, threatening to intrude upon our sanctuary of peace, we held onto that moment with all our might, unwilling to let it slip away. In each other's arms, we found solace, strength, and a love that transcended time and space.

Eventually, the sounds of approaching footsteps shattered the stillness of our reverie, signaling the end of our moment of respite. With a shared sigh, we reluctantly pulled away from each other, knowing that duty called and we had to answer.

But as we rose to our feet, ready to face whatever challenges awaited us, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, as long as I had Satoru by my side, I could conquer them all with unwavering determination and unwavering love.

As we reluctantly rose to our feet, a familiar voice called out to us from across the courtyard. It was Principal Yaga, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the bustling students as he approached.

"Y/N, may I have a word with you?" he asked, his tone serious.

I exchanged a quick glance with Satoru before nodding and following Principal Yaga to a quieter corner of the courtyard.

"What's going on, Principal Yaga?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the growing sense of unease in my stomach.

Principal Yaga sighed heavily, his expression grave. "I've just received word from headquarters. It seems there's been a sighting of a Special Grade curse in the area, and it's causing quite a bit of havoc," he explained.

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of a special grade curse. They were the most dangerous of adversaries, and facing one alone would be a daunting task.

"I'm afraid I have no choice but to assign you to this mission, Y/N," Principal Yaga continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I know it won't be easy, but I trust that you're more than capable of handling it."

I nodded, a sense of determination burning within me. "I won't let you down, Principal Yaga. I'll do whatever it takes to protect the people," I said, my voice echoing with resolve.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Principal Yaga stepped aside, allowing me to make my preparations for the mission ahead. As I walked away, the weight of my impending task hung heavy in the air, but with each step, I knew that I had to face this challenge head-on, for the sake of those who relied on me.

As I returned to where Satoru was waiting, his expression immediately shifted to one of concern. "What did Principal Yaga want?" he asked, his tone laced with worry.

Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, trying to convey a sense of determination. "There's been a sighting of a Special Grade curse," I began, bracing myself for his reaction. "And Principal Yaga wants me to handle it alone."

Satoru's eyes widened in disbelief, and I could see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Alone? Why would he send you on such a dangerous mission by yourself?" He demanded, his voice rising with frustration.

I reached out to lay a hand on his arm, trying to calm his growing agitation. "I know it sounds risky, Satoru, but I believe I can handle it," I said, my voice steady despite the nerves churning in my stomach.

Satoru shook his head, his expression conflicted. "But what if something goes wrong? What if you need backup?" he argued, his concern for me shining through.

I squeezed his arm gently, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve. "I've trained for this, Satoru. I know the risks, but I also know my abilities," I said, trying to reassure him. "And I promise, if I need help, I'll call for backup. But for now, I need to do this on my own."

Reluctantly, Satoru nodded, his grip tightening around my hand. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Y/N," he said, his voice soft with concern.

I smiled gratefully, grateful for his understanding. "I will, Satoru. I promise," I replied, before turning to make my preparations for the mission ahead.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence, knowing that Satoru believed in me. And as I set off alone to confront the looming threat, I knew that, with his unwavering support, I could face whatever challenges awaited me with courage and determination.

As I ventured forth alone to confront the Special Grade curse, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at the edges of my mind. Nevertheless, I pressed on, determined to prove to myself and to Satoru that I was capable of handling the mission.

Upon arriving at the location indicated by Principal Yaga, I found myself facing a seemingly straightforward encounter with a curse. It was a Grade 1 curse, far weaker than what I had anticipated, and I dispatched it with relative ease, my confidence growing with each passing moment.

However, as the dust settled and I prepared to return to the school, a sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. The Grade 1 curse had been nothing more than a distraction—a decoy designed to lure me away while the true threat remained hidden.

My heart raced as I frantically scanned my surroundings, searching for any signs of the real Special Grade curse. And then I saw him, standing before me with a sinister grin, his presence radiating malevolence.

It was Mahito, the cursed spirit that Nanami and Yuji had warned us about. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, my blood running cold as I faced one of the most dangerous adversaries imaginable.

As Mahito and I faced off, the tension in the air was palpable, each of us poised for battle. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned forth my blood technique, crimson tendrils snaking through the air like serpents, ready to strike.

Mahito's grin widened, a glint of anticipation in his eyes as he prepared to unleash his own curse technique. "Impressive, little sorcerer," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "But let's see if you can handle this."

With a wave of his hand, Mahito sent a wave of dark energy hurtling towards me, the sheer force of it threatening to knock me off balance. I gritted my teeth, channeling my energy into a protective barrier as I braced myself for the impact.

The clash of our techniques sent shockwaves rippling through the air, each one vying for dominance in the chaotic battleground. As the dust settled, I could feel the strain of the battle weighing heavily on me, but I refused to back down.

"Is that the best you've got, Mahito?" I taunted, my voice filled with determination. "I expected more from the likes of you."

Mahito's grin faltered, replaced by a scowl of annoyance. "You dare to mock me, human?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I'll make you regret those words."

With renewed determination, Mahito launched himself at me, his movements fluid and unpredictable. I met his attack head-on, countering with a flurry of strikes from my blood technique.

The clash of our powers echoed through the air, a symphony of chaos and destruction as we battled for supremacy. With each exchange, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, fueling my every move.

But even as the fight raged on, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my mind. Mahito was a formidable opponent, his powers twisting and distorting reality itself. I knew that defeating him would require every ounce of strength and cunning I possessed.

And as the battle reached its climax, with neither of us willing to give ground, I knew that victory was within reach. With one final surge of determination, I unleashed a devastating blow, channeling all of my energy into a single, decisive strike.

But as the dust settled and I prepared to claim my victory, I realized with a sinking feeling in my chest that Mahito was nowhere to be found. He had slipped away in the chaos of battle, leaving behind only a sense of frustration and the lingering echoes of our fierce confrontation.

With a heavy sigh, I knew that our battle was far from over. Mahito may have escaped this time, but I would not rest until I had defeated him once and for all, proving to myself and to Satoru that I was more than capable of facing even the most formidable of foes.

As the dust settled and I prepared to claim victory, a sense of relief washed over me. I had fought Mahito to a standstill, and it seemed that he had finally been defeated. Or so I thought.

With trembling hands, I wiped the sweat from my brow, my heart still pounding in my chest from the intensity of the battle. But as I scanned the area, searching for any sign of Mahito's presence, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

There was no sign of him. No lingering trace of his cursed energy. It was as if he had simply vanished into thin air.

A sense of unease crept over me as I realized the truth. Mahito had slipped away once again, leaving me battered and bruised, but no closer to victory than before.

Just as I turned to leave, a sudden surge of darkness enveloped me from behind, knocking me off balance and sending me sprawling to the ground.

With a gasp of surprise, I turned to face my attacker, only to find Mahito standing over me, a malicious grin on his face. "Did you really think it would be that easy, little sorcerer?" he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn.

My heart raced as I realized my mistake. Mahito had used my momentary distraction to launch a surprise attack from behind, catching me off guard.

But even as the realization sank in, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins, fueling my determination to fight on. With every ounce of strength I possessed, I launched myself at Mahito, unleashing a flurry of blows with all the skill and precision I could muster.

The battle that followed was fierce and unforgiving, the odds stacked against me as Mahito unleashed his full fury upon me with relentless ferocity. But I refused to give up, drawing strength from the memory of Satoru's unwavering belief in me.

As the battle reached its climax, I could feel my energy waning, my muscles burning with exhaustion. But still, I pressed on, refusing to back down in the face of adversity.

And then, in a moment of perfect clarity, I saw my opportunity. With a burst of speed and determination, I unleashed a devastating combination of spells, each one aimed with deadly accuracy. Mahito staggered under the onslaught, his defenses faltering for the briefest of moments.

With one final surge of strength, I launched myself at Mahito, delivering a decisive blow that sent him sprawling to the ground.

As I stood over him, panting heavily and covered in sweat, a sense of triumph washed over me. I had defeated Mahito, proving to myself and to Satoru that I was more than capable of facing even the most formidable of foes.

But as I prepared to claim victory, a sudden surge of darkness enveloped me once again, and before I could react, Mahito was standing over me, his grin wider than ever.

"Nice try, little sorcerer," he sneered, his voice filled with malice. "But this battle is far from over."

With a sinking feeling in my chest, I realized that I had been deceived. Mahito had lured me into a false sense of security, allowing me to believe that I had won when, in reality, he had been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

As darkness closed in around me, I knew that the true battle was only just beginning. And with Mahito as my relentless adversary, the road ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty. But I refused to give up hope. With Satoru by my side, I knew that together, we could overcome even the most daunting of challenges.

As darkness closed in around me, memories of happier times flooded my mind, a bittersweet reminder of the moments I cherished most with Satoru.

I remembered the way his laughter echoed through the halls of the school, infectious and full of life. How his easy smile could chase away even the darkest of clouds, filling me with warmth and joy.

I recalled the countless hours we spent training together, his patient guidance and unwavering support pushing me to be the best sorcerer I could be. How his encouraging words never failed to lift my spirits, even in the face of adversity.

And then there were the quiet moments, just the two of us, lost in our own little world. The stolen glances and shy smiles, the whispered conversations that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

As I lay there, battered and broken, these memories became my lifeline, a source of strength and comfort in the darkness. They reminded me of the love and support I had received from Satoru, and the promise of a brighter tomorrow, even in the face of despair.

But just as quickly as they came, the memories faded, replaced once again by the harsh reality of the present. Mahito stood before me, his malicious grin a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond reach.

With a heavy heart, I prepared to face my fate, knowing that I had fought with all the courage and determination I possessed. But even as darkness closed in around me, I held onto the hope that somewhere, somehow, Satoru was watching over me, ready to guide me home once more.

As darkness closed in around me, and Mahito's menacing presence loomed over me, a wave of despair washed over my soul. In that moment of uncertainty and fear, my thoughts turned to Satoru, the one person who had always been my guiding light in the darkest of times.

But as I struggled against the suffocating grip of darkness, a bitter realization swept over me like a cold, merciless wave. The memories of our time together—the laughter, the joy, the love—it all felt like a distant dream, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

And in that moment, I knew with a heavy heart that I would not be guided back home to Satoru. The future we had imagined together, filled with hope and promise, now seemed nothing more than a cruel fantasy.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I faced the harsh reality of my fate, alone and powerless against the darkness that threatened to consume me. The thought of never seeing Satoru again, never feeling his comforting presence by my side, filled me with a profound sense of loss and sorrow.

But even as despair threatened to overwhelm me, a small glimmer of hope flickered deep within my soul. For in the depths of darkness, there was still a spark of light, a reminder of the love and strength that had sustained me through the darkest of times.

With one final, trembling breath, I whispered a silent prayer to the heavens, a plea for salvation, for redemption, for a chance to be reunited with the one I loved more than life itself.

But as the darkness closed in around me, swallowing me whole, I couldn't help but wonder if my plea would ever be answered. And as I slipped into oblivion, I clung to the memory of Satoru, my beacon of light in the endless sea of darkness, hoping against hope that someday, somehow, we would be together again.

"You thought you could stand against me?" Mahito's voice dripped with disdain, his eyes gleaming with malevolence. "You're nothing but a weak, pathetic human. It's almost laughable how easily you've been defeated."

His words cut through me like a knife, each syllable laden with cruelty and malice. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let his taunts break my spirit, but deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm me.

As Mahito loomed over me, his grin widening with satisfaction, I knew that the battle was lost. In that moment of despair, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable. But even as darkness closed in around me, I clung to the faint glimmer of hope that still burned within me, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still a chance for redemption.

As Mahito's cruel words pierced through me like daggers, a profound sense of doubt and self-doubt enveloped my thoughts, shrouding them in a suffocating darkness. Was he right? Was I truly nothing more than a weak, insignificant human, destined to be crushed beneath the heel of those more powerful than me?

Questions plagued my mind relentlessly, each one more unsettling than the last, echoing in the depths of my consciousness like a haunting melody. What was the purpose of my existence, if not to be a pawn in the cruel game of cursed spirits and sorcerers? Did I even have a place in this world, or was I merely a fleeting shadow, destined to fade into obscurity?

With every passing moment, the weight of my doubts grew heavier, threatening to crush me beneath their oppressive burden. Was there any meaning to my struggles, any purpose to my suffering? The thought of continuing to fight in a world that seemed determined to crush me at every turn felt like an insurmountable challenge.

I questioned my worth, my abilities, my very essence. Was there anything about me that was truly worthy of recognition, of respect, of love? Or was I destined to remain forever in the shadows, a forgotten soul lost amidst the chaos and turmoil of the world?

As Mahito's mocking laughter echoed in the darkness, I felt myself slipping further into the abyss of doubt and self-loathing. And in that moment of utter despair, I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps I would have been better off never existing at all.

The existential crisis that consumed me threatened to drown out any flicker of hope or resilience that remained within me. I felt adrift in a sea of uncertainty, unable to find solid ground upon which to anchor myself.

And as I grappled with these existential questions, I found no solace, no answers to ease the torment of my thoughts. Instead, I was left with only a profound sense of emptiness, a void that threatened to consume me from within, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake.

As I lay there, consumed by doubt and despair, Mahito's cruel laughter reverberated through the darkness, mocking my suffering. With a malicious gleam in his eyes, he raised his hand, preparing to deliver the final blow that would seal my fate.

I braced myself for the inevitable, resigned to my fate as his helpless victim. But even as fear gripped my heart, a small voice whispered within me, urging me to fight on, to cling to whatever shreds of hope remained.

With every fiber of my being, I summoned the strength to push back against the suffocating darkness, determined to defy Mahito until my last breath. But it was futile. I was no match for his overwhelming power and cruelty.

And then, with a flash of darkness, Mahito's hand descended, striking me with a force that sent shockwaves of pain coursing through my body. Agony engulfed me as I cried out in anguish, the world around me fading into oblivion.

In that moment of agony and despair, I knew that I had been defeated. Mahito had triumphed, his cruelty and malice snuffing out whatever flicker of hope remained within me.

As consciousness slipped away, I was left with only the haunting echoes of Mahito's laughter, a chilling reminder of the darkness that had consumed me. And in the end, as darkness closed in around me, I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps oblivion was the only escape from the torment of my existence.

As darkness enveloped me and Mahito's final blow struck, pain surged through every fiber of my being, threatening to consume me whole. In that moment of agony, memories of happier times flooded my mind, a fleeting reprieve from the darkness that surrounded me.

I thought of Satoru, his laughter and warmth wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. I remembered the promise he had made to me, whispered in moments of quiet intimacy when the world seemed to stand still. The promise to marry me, to spend eternity by my side, bound together by love and devotion.

In the depths of despair, I clung to that promise, holding onto it with all the strength I had left. And as consciousness slipped away, I found solace in the thought of Satoru waiting for me on the other side, his smile a beacon of light in the endless darkness.

In my final moments, as I took my last breath, I whispered his name, a prayer on my lips as I surrendered to the void. And in that moment, I felt a sense of peace wash over me—a fleeting glimpse of happiness amidst the pain and suffering.

Even in death, I knew that Satoru would be with me, his love guiding me through the darkness and into the light. And as I slipped away into the unknown, I held onto the hope that somewhere, somehow, we would be reunited once more, bound together for eternity by the promise of a love that transcended even death itself.

As Yaga delivered the devastating news of Y/N's demise, a wave of anguish washed over Satoru, threatening to engulf him in a tempest of grief and despair. The words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a dagger to his heart as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his loss.

"No, it can't be," Satoru whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper as he grappled with the reality of Y/N's death. His hands clenched into fists, trembling with suppressed emotion as he fought to hold back the flood of anguish threatening to consume him.

But as the truth of Y/N's fate sank in, Satoru's grief gave way to a burning rage unlike anything he had ever known. His eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"How could this happen?" He roared, his voice raw with pain and fury. The sound echoed through the halls of the school, reverberating with a primal intensity that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it. "She was supposed to be safe! I promised to protect her, and now she's gone!"

Every fiber of Satoru's being screamed out in anguish, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of despair, unable to find solid ground upon which to anchor himself.

In that moment of unbridled fury and anguish, Satoru's resolve hardened into steel. He would not rest until he had avenged Y/N's death, until he had hunted down every last cursed spirit responsible for her demise.

With a primal roar of anguish, Satoru unleashed his fury upon the world; his grief transformed into a tempest of righteous fury. His screams echoed through the night, a symphony of pain and rage that pierced the darkness with their intensity.

And as he set off into the night, his heart burning with a vengeful fire, he vowed to stop at nothing to bring justice to those who had dared to take Y/N from him. In that moment of unspeakable loss, Satoru swore an oath that would echo through the ages, a promise to avenge the one he loved with every fiber of his being.

As Satoru stood before Y/N's casket, his heart heavy with grief, a sense of numbness washed over him, dulling the pain of his loss to a dull ache. The funeral procession had been a blur of tears and mournful whispers, but now, as he faced the reality of Y/N's passing, the full weight of his sorrow crashed down upon him like a tidal wave.

With trembling hands, Satoru reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box that held the ring he had intended to propose to Y/N with. The ring, a symbol of their love and commitment to each other, felt heavy in his grasp, a reminder of the future they had planned together, now cruelly snatched away.

As he gazed down at Y/N's peaceful face, a sob caught in his throat, threatening to choke him with its intensity. He couldn't bear to say goodbye, couldn't bear to let go of the one person who had meant everything to him.

But as he looked into Y/N's serene expression, a sense of calm washed over him, a whispered reassurance that she was at peace. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Satoru opened the velvet box, revealing the gleaming ring nestled within.

With trembling hands, he carefully slipped the ring onto Y/N's finger, a silent promise of eternal love and devotion. It felt like a bittersweet farewell, a final gesture of affection to the one he had loved more than life itself.

As he stood there, lost in his grief, a sense of closure washed over him, a whisper of acceptance in the depths of his sorrow. Y/N may have been taken from him far too soon, but her memory would live on in his heart forever, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounded him.

With one last lingering glance at Y/N's peaceful face, Satoru bowed his head in silent prayer, offering a final farewell to the love of his life. And as he turned to leave, a sense of peace settled over him, a whispered reassurance that even in death, their love would endure for all eternity.

————————————————————————

Upsi, I fooled you! Nah, to be honest, it also hurt me, but I had to get through it.

Do not copy or translate; just don’t do anything with it. Reblogs are appreciated. hihi

#gojo jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #angst with a happy ending #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #x reader #fem reader #reader x satoru

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hushed-chorus · 3 days

Text

Hi folks! I hope you've all had a grand week! I just ate a bowl of crunchy nut cornflakes. It was pretty epic.

Chapter three of Those Glowing, Magickal Years went live today. Sorry for the wait, and hopefully the 8k word count makes up for the delay. That means the fic is 21k words so far, and we've only just come to the close of Year One. @erzbethluna keeps telling me this fic will end up at least 300k, and I fear she may be right.

In the spirit of Wednesday's rec post, please accept six sentences from TGMY that feature the word 'blood'.

Every bag of blood I sup on, every morsel I learn, I do so because he’s given it to me. Today he’s a particularly unruly barrage of bangs and bravado, but at least he doesn’t smell like blood. “That bloody sword answered only to Pitches for generations!” Hot blood splashed across my hands, face, clothes, and the carpet. I want to lap up his insolent blood, let it thread all its heady warmth into me, let his heart coil around mine and bring it to life, just for a few precious, strong beats. What the bloody hell is he up to?

Tags below the cut, as well as some thoughts on another WIP I may pick up

@artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @raenestee @cutestkilla

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @stitchyqueer @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @whogaveyoupermission

@nightimedreamersworld @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @onepintobean @shrekgogurt

@theearlgreymage @martsonmars @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @rimeswithpurple @wellbelesbian @imagineacoolusername

@youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii @bookish-bogwitch

@cosmicalart @bazzybelle @theotherhufflepuff @that-disabled-princess @prettygoododds

@mooncello @noblecorgi @roomwithanopenfire @emeryhall @monbons

Those Glowing, Magickal Years still has a solid grip on me. However, another fic idea has started beating me around the head. A good old chonk of time ago, I mentioned I was working on a snowbaz fic inspired by Fallout New Vegas, provisionally titled Hope Springs Eternal. Well, I may have watched the Fallout show and that idea is shaking me by the lapels.

In addition, presently TGMY is from the POV of tween Baz and Simon, but I have the itch to write something that's slower in pace. Something that has a narrative voice that allows some decadence in the writing. Despite it's source of inspiration, Hope Springs Eternal imagines a post-apocalyptic world that has struggles, but also has magic, goodness and space for hope. (And vampire angst.)

Now, I don't want to actively work on THREE fics (yes, FAIAP has not been abandoned, just on a school-related hiatus). I'd go loopy.

That being said... Well, my initial draft of Blood, Salt, and Hummingbirds was written in an obscenely beautiful notebook. Writing by hand is a nice relief sometimes, especially if you're tired and sore. The writing feels low-pressure and indulgent, compared to the focus I put into writing on laptop.

So I may dive into that idea in that format. If it makes good progress, I'll get it typed up and share it.

#six sentence sunday #snowbaz fic #those glowing magickal years #vampire angst

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sandcobangevent · 19 hours

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Unlucky

by @high-functioning-otter and @holmosexualitea Read the fic over on AO3!

Bing. Text notification. About the 10th in the last half an hour. John didn’t count deliberately. Actually, he was trying to focus on answering emails and editing a new episode for the podcast but he struggled a lot with concentrating today. That’s why Mariana had offered to go for a walk with Archie for him and also dragged Sherlock along so he could really work in peace for once.

He glanced over at the phone screen lighting up again after another message came in. From where he was sitting, he could only see who these messages sent and not the content of them. Nevertheless, he nearly fell off his chair when his brain registered who the sender was: Carol Watson. Now every last bit of concentration was definitely completely gone. This was Mariana’s phone, she forgot it. But what? Why was Mariana texting his mother? And what about? And since when? And why???

After yet another text notification sound disrupted the silence of the living room, John couldn’t contain himself anymore. He knew that it was wrong to snoop through other people’s phones – especially if these people are your friends. He knew he shouldn't, but he simply couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text from the lockscreen.

“What is this?” John held up Mariana’s phone right into her face. It had felt like an eternity since his two housemates left and now that they were back he didn't know what to feel. The past hour he went through all sorts of emotions. From confusion to betrayal to anger to more confusion and then more anger.

“This is my phone. I left it at home. Thank you, John.” Mariana replied confused and she reached out for the phone but John quickly pulled his hand back.

“No, I know what this is. I meant the messages. Why are you texting my mom?” Mariana’s eyes widened a bit. Unsure she glanced over at Sherlock. She didn't know how to respond, if she should tell the truth or resort to a lie. “The question rather is: why are you reading Mrs Hudson’s text messages?” the detective answered for her.

“No no, that’s not...” John cleared his throat awkwardly but then hurriedly continued talking. “Anyway, you know, I can understand when my mother refuses to tell me about this but… you? I-I mean… yes. Isn’t this super weird? And wow okay I never expected my mom to not be straight or that she would go for someone so much younger… or that you would…”

“Get to the point, Watson!” Sherlock finally interrupted the rambling.

“Why are you dating my mother?!” Suddenly the room was dead silent, the three just stared at each other in confusion before both Mariana and Sherlock busted out into laughter. “What? Where did you get that idea?” Mariana asked while she was trying to calm down again.

“Here.” The doctor held up the phone once more and showed the messages to her. She read them and then nodded. “Yeah, okay I can see where you’re coming from. But I can assure you, it’s not what it looks like!” That was exactly the sentence everyone used after they’ve been caught red-handed, when it's exactly what it looks like. Mariana looked over at Sherlock, almost as if she was asking for his permission to speak. Finally, he shrugged and answered for her: “We’re assisting her on a case. Now, she didn’t want us to tell you but seems like nothing gets past you. Well done, Watson, you do make a great detective.”

“A case? What kind of case- Hold on. Why didn’t she want you to tell me? What’s going on?” This was worse. Way worse than just a hidden relationship or anything of the sort. All this time his two friends had secretly worked on a case together, right behind his back. But that also explained a lot.

“She doesn’t want us to tell you.” Mariana replied with a nearly guilty expression on her face. John just couldn’t understand this. What was it that he couldn’t know about? But it was no use. He wouldn’t get an answer to this question, at least not on this day. Both of his housemates were very keen on keeping the secret a secret and no matter how often he asked none of them answered it. Eventually, it was too much for him.

“Right, that’s it, I’m going out. To the pub, in case you’re-… no actually, don’t. Don’t follow or search for me.” And with that John left the house in a hurry. He quickly got into the nearest tube station and took the next train that would take him away from 221b Bakerstreet.

The now podcaster found himself in the exact spot he was in a few months ago. This was not The Volunteer, the pub he would normally go to. No, this was the pub he was supposed to meet up with Mary, where he then ran into Stamford and where this adventure with his detective flatmate started. Now he was there alone, thinking over this crazy day. It had started so normal and now everything was different. The microphone was laying on the table but for once it wasn’t on. John felt upset, extremely upset. It was less painful that his mother was hiding something from him – at a certain age it simply was like that – it hurt more that the people he saw as his best friends went along with it and actually didn’t tell him about it. What problem could be that horrible that it had to be hidden so well? And why didn’t mom just go to the police if it was something serious? Why go to his friends but keep her own son out of it? So many questions and so little answers.

The next day John barely spoke a word to his friends. They had never seen him so upset before. Of course, they tried to apologize but it was all in vain. When it was time for dinner, Sherlock tried again: “Watson. I’m really sorry. But your mother did give very clear instructions.” Silence. “Would you like a hug?” John considered it for a second but then he decided that a simple hug would not solve this matter. “A cup of tea? Biscuits? Anything?” Tea and biscuits for dinner? Yeah no but nice try. “Okay, I don’t understand it. I've apologized multiple times, I don't know what else to do.” John finally opened his mouth to answer but just in that moment someone knocked on the door.

It was Mariana. Perfect timing. “Can I borrow Sherlock for a second?” the doctor couldn’t believe his ears now. The audacity to ask this right in front of him when it was obvious what she wanted Sherlock for. Not this time. He just needed to know what’s going on.

“No actually, first you explain this to me. What is so horrible that my mother doesn’t want me to know?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. Mariana sighed. Now it didn't take much and she finally gave in. She hated this game of hide-and-seek. Only very reluctantly she began to talk.

“Okay. It’s about a guy.” John scoffed and immediately interrupted her baffled. “Really? That’s what she wants to hide from me? She's had dates before ever since dad… well, I'm not mad at her, you know. If it makes her happy then she can go out with whoever she likes.“

“Yes, but the last time they met up the guy acted completely different than before, a complete turnaround. He wanted her to go back to his house but she got suspicious and left early instead. And then she reached out to us. Well, to Sherlock with the request to check up on this man and to not tell you anything.”

John just laughed out loud. “Are you being serious right now? So, this… this is the grand secret that no one here could tell me about? Seriously, why didn’t you just tell me for god’s bloody sake?”

“We were trying to protect you. That guy has also been stealing from her. Nothing expensive but just personal objects. The pictures she had of you and your father in her purse were gone after the first meetup, for example.” A shiver ran down John’s spine. That was extremely creepy. Sherlock sighed and ran a hand over his face. He continued to explain the case. “It gets worse I'm afraid. He’s been involved with women that went missing after they met up with him.” Yup, it indeed got worse. John got goosebumps on his whole body and he wished that this was just a silly coincidence or a bad dream. But it wasn't.

“Who is he?” he finally managed to ask with a sigh and a slightly wobbly voice. Mariana took a quick look at her phone before answering that question. “His name is David Fisher. It’s his real name, Sherlock got that checked.”

“Wait... David Fisher? Why is that name familiar…” the doctor started pacing around the room restlessly while his roommate continued talking. “The police couldn’t find any evidence for his connection to the disappearances but I’m most certain that he has something to do with it. Can’t prove it yet, shame.”

Suddenly John turned around quickly and quite shocked. “Oh my… I know him!” He looked alternatingly at his two friends. “We need to leave now! Right now!”

***

He had always been different. Not by choice. Some people are simply born like that. Most of his time he spent alone, mainly because he was always a bit cleverer than the other kids and he just couldn’t understand the others. His parents were a lovely couple but drowning in work. So, they also had little time for their son.

Things didn't change when he finished high school. He had no difficulties in finding a place to study and even went to study his desired subject, biology. But still, he was very lonely and felt like he didn’t belong there. All the other students were so different and he just couldn’t understand them. And again, he spent most of his time alone studying in his room.

After completing his studies with a remarkable result, he was looking for jobs. But due to a lack of communication and social skills, thanks to him being along so much, he had quite a difficult time. Eventually, he found a job at a university’s cafeteria as a canteen worker and considered himself as an utter failure.

One day a young man with blonde hair and a football tricot came into the cafeteria. This guy sat down with his mates at a table not far from where he was working. He could hear every word they were saying. The young man’s name was John and seemed to have everything he didn’t have. John was studying medicine and had a small group of friends. He could see that this John was pretty socially awkward and yet his friends weren’t appalled by this. No, quite the contrary, they appeared to like him. And again it was something he couldn’t understand. All his life he had been like that and yet no one even bothered to get to know him. He was suddenly feeling very angry.

Many people came to the cafeteria every day. It could have been anyone but for some reason the blonde football tricot John wouldn’t leave his mind. And with that the anger and the jealousy. Why did he succeed at what I didn’t?

***

Luckily, Mariana had found out the address pretty quickly and now they were rushing down the street to get to the underground. On the way John tried to recall what he knew. “He worked in the canteen at university and that was his name, I believe.” They rushed down the stairs and barely made it into the right tube.

“The sort of person that tends to blend into the background and you don’t really notice them. We never even talked. Until one afternoon he attacked me out of nowhere, right there in front of everyone. Nothing happened really but he got fired for it none the less. Bollocks... I had completely forgotten about this.”

They made it in record time to the address and John nearly couldn’t believe his eyes when the door was finally opened. That was the man from the cafeteria all those years ago. The doctor recognized him despite him being much older now. “Are you David Fisher?” he finally managed to ask.

“Sure yeah. What’s the matter?” David seemed nervous now, fidgeting with his fingers. He had also realized who he just opened the door for. And just like the other man, he had a hard time believing that this was really happening right now.

“I’m John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes. Can we maybe come in?” David nodded and suddenly John felt very uneasy. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to go into this house but too late, no turning back now.

Walking into the house felt like a timelapse. Like a nightmare or one of those terrible crime series on BBC 4. On one of the countertops, John spotted the stolen pictures from his mom’s wallet. On the wall in the living room there was a collection of very few newspaper articles but somehow they were all about a certain soldier and now podcaster. David just stared at him with a blank expression and appeared almost calm. “Right...” John started but suddenly everything happened so fast.

David rushed forward towards the doctor and tackled him to the floor. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. Not the way I planned it but…” He got cut off by Sherlock intervening and trying to get him down from his friend. Quickly the attacker recovered and despite him being almost 15 years older, he was able to fight off the two younger men.

For good ten minutes the living room was the scene of a battle before finally the police knocked down the front door and pulled the fighting men apart. Mariana appeared in the door frame. She waited outside and as she heard what was happening, she quickly called the police.

As David got escorted John watched him, exhausted from the fight and disturbed by the whole situation. “Why? Why me? Why my mother? Just... why?” he managed to ask, looking into the cold face of the man. There was not a single bit of regret. David simply answered: “I was unlucky enough to meet you.”

***

David Fisher had a pretty normal life after getting fired from the university’s cafeteria. He was devastated of course but much to his own surprise he pretty quickly found another work. Everything would've been just fine if he didn't get that text. A text he never should’ve read. But he couldn't help himself.

It was a newspaper article. Sent by a family member because a cousin was in it but on that picture was also the blonde football tricot boy. And David saw red. He made a vicious plan. He would get his revenge on John by getting to his mother first. And then he started to practice on the women that disappeared after he met up with them. But he was clever. The police never found anything concrete and so he walked free until the day John actually showed up at his house.

***

“Scary, it’s always the people you’d least expect it from.” Mariana broke the silence between them as they sat at an almost empty pub. The past few days had been complete chaos. John called a lot with his mom. To take their minds off things Mariana had invited the boys to the pub and they ended up staying there way too long.

“Yeah... you know, it was good that you took on the case. Even if you didn't tell me, which you totally should have, and I'm still slightly mad that you didn't, but... who knows what would have happened if you ignored my mother,” the doctor finally answered after a while. He was feeling better but certainly not completely fine yet.

“No,” Sherlock shook his head. “We should have involved you earlier. It was you who solved this case in a matter of minutes. It would have been way worse if you didn't snoop around Mrs Hudson’s phone.”

John wanted to be offended at first but then he just nodded and simply took a sip of his drink. The detective was right, of course. He knew he shouldn’t have but he was so glad he read that text.

#submission #sherlock and co #sherlock & co #flashbang event #sherlock homes #john watson #mariana ametxazurra

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valiantroeagleangel · 2 days

Text

Nosferatu I.

Vampire Ruffilo x female reader

Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.

I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.

Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.

Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).

Mama’s tag list: @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.

Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.

What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.

He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.

Love.

No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.

Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.

And when he thought about that, he thought about her.

The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.

Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.

As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.

It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.

"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."

Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.

In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.

She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.

However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.

Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.

In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.

In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.

Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?

But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.

In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.

With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.

And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.

With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.

Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.

Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.

She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.

With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.

And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.

The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.

In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.

But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.

His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.

She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.

As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.

#bad omens #nicholas ruffilo #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #vampire! ruffilo #smut #vampire! nicholas ruffilo

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rottiens · 3 days

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SCREAMS IF U DONT TELL ME MORE ABOUT DRACULA TOJI EXPERMENTING ON YOU-

😳😳

cw. vampire toji x afab reader, dracula au, noncon, experimentation, blood, mentions of pregnancy, breeding, predator/prey, size difference, yan toji, you are compelled by him. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Okay, I just think that Count Toji must be tired of living in his castle, bored of having spent centuries in this land where he only goes out hunting at night to survive and watch others live their lives under the hot and threatening sun.

Curiosity would lead him to set his eyes on the girl who occasionally walks around his castle, Toji is not interested in her social class or status; all he wants from her is the taste and ecstasy that her young blood can give him. He often sees her stop in the distance and admire how majestic the building is, so tall and imposing.

Toji believes that she managed to notice his presence once. Standing in front of the second floor window, as the sun set and he turned his back to the shadows. When their gazes met, it was then that he realized that the pleasures and memories of his human life still lingered there hidden under the clothes of the elegant lord he pretends to be, he wanted her, he wanted her on his property, he wanted her holding his hand and carrying his seed inside her.

With this idea in mind, he waited and counted the days until she would pass by his castle again; he waited and waited until, during twilight, he saw her walking slowly up the clear, flower-filled hill.

The dense flakes of black clouds hid the sun that day as if someone was conspiring on his behalf, so he took the opportunity to approach her, cautiously, making sure his movements would not frighten her, though nothing could make his dead heart beat faster than the sight of her running down the hill as she flees from an inevitable outcome.

Toji blamed her smile. If she hadn't smiled at him in that open, friendly way, as if inviting him to take her right there and then, he might have let her slip away. After all, it was not yet dark and anyone could catch him in the act; however, the way her heart was beating, hidden under her corset-tight ribs, and her nervous, choppy breathing, with her chest rising and falling, had never made him feel so alive as he did at that moment.

She doesn't remember how long it's been or how she got there, sometimes she thinks all she knows is that castle and her master. There are gaps in her memory about the family she lost one day and who she was before; all she remembers are the Count's words: “This is your home now.”

She serves him. She dresses for him. And she allows him, for some reason, to take anything he wants from her including her blood. Whenever he asks she goes to the back room, perfectly decorated with a bed with red silk sheets and sheer curtains hanging from the ceiling. Toji strips her of her clothes and she offers him her previously injured and fang-marked left arm, he feeds sometimes until she faints and loses consciousness. Other times, he calls her to breed her.

Toji is obsessed with the idea of getting her pregnant. One night, he told her how he wants to have children, how he wants to procreate, and that is the only reason she is there, not to serve him dinner or clean his floors; she is there to accept his cum every night and every time he wants to give it to her.

Toji has tried it so many ways, with her on top, underneath, beside him. His fangs are in every inch of her skin, marking her as his, and he keeps trying, wishing that at some point she might give him an heir for eternity so he won't be alone.

So far, though, none of that has worked.

There are days when she wakes up lucid and fear creeps through her veins, making her get out of bed in the middle of the night and run downstairs, screaming in terror. She doesn't remember how many times it has happened, she only knows that he finds her opening the front door and pushes her from behind crushing her against the old wood.

"Where are you going?" he growls annoyed against her ear, his breath hitching.

"Please, my lord; let me go."

Toji is quiet for a moment, perhaps weighing the decision?

"Let's make a deal. I will open the door and you will run as fast as your little legs will allow. If you can catch a moonbeam, I'll let you go.”

The castle is gigantic, she thinks. It will be a moment before she can step out of the shadows of it and reach the light.

"What if I don't make it?" her tear-filled eyes close for a moment and the tears fall.

The Count laughs softly, grinding his hips against her lower back showing her how hard what is about to happen makes him.

"You don't want to find out and ruin the surprise, do you?"

Toji flings open the door and she almost falls to the floor. Her hands touch the ground and she gets up in a hurry to get away from the castle, running as far as she can. Grass brushes against her feet, pebbles cut into the soles of her feet and her dress gets tangled between her thighs, but she keeps going without stopping. She looks back and sees him in his sleeping clothes from the doorway mimicking being a man, wrapped in darkness from his home with jet hair covering his eyes. And with red eyes and sharp fangs, she finally sees him for what he is.

A monster.

She looks ahead, screaming from the depths of her lungs for help. She thinks of her family, of her mother, and picks up the hem of her dress with one hand to run faster. The moonlight seems so close that she thinks she can reach it, but it all becomes a distant dream again the moment a sharp sound tears the air; like the cry of a wounded animal, and her body falls to the ground. Her palms bleed and she screams in pain, in rage, in fear.

"Please!"

"I've got you. Let's go back home."

notes. i believe faithfully that he does this kind of experiments with you. he spreads your pussy with his fingers, pushes his cum inside, maybe hm fucks you in the ass all this to see your reaction. he is addicted to the way you respond to pleasure, to pain, that he wants to know everything about you. how much would your body resist before breaking, how much he should do to make you pregnant.

#asks #wr #cw noncon #toji x reader

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scekrex · 15 hours

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Hi I am wonder if you could do anothe part for overlord!reader, like maybe news on how reader has Adam got out and now reader has to take time from his personal paradise to deal with the rest of Hell. Their place is hidden away so he doesn’t really have to deal with attack but he does have to deal with contant calls to buy or hand over Adam. Reader is just increasingly piss off and at some point Adam decide to help him chill out by snuggling him when it became clear he’s close to losing it. It gotten bad enough that Adam straight up drag a reclining couch to his office which help which helps wth work because an angel being all cuddly nearby would motivate anyone haul ass quickly to join them

Fuck I'm such a sucker for the soft bond overlord!reader and Adam have, I wanna write for em all day long ughhh

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4

Lover come hold me

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

After that little date you and Adam had enjoyed the prior week, news that the former angel was living with you spread through hell’s seven rings like a disease. And while your life as an Overlord in general had grown more stressful ever since the exterminations had been invented, this was a new peak of stress.

People kept reaching out, strangers managed to get their claws on your phone number and had the audacity to call you and ask for how much you would sell the first man to them, not understanding that Adam was not for sale. The first man would continue to stay at your place for as long as he desired and if one day he should decide that he no longer wants to spend eternity with you, he could move out. Selling him to some limp dick Imp was off the table though. Hell’s residents didn’t seem to understand that though, they kept calling you, blowing up your phone like there was no tomorrow, your text messages were full of people offering insanely high amounts of money for Adam and some people even dared to pay you a personal visit - though those were only people you knew. Not everyone in hell knew where exactly your mansion was located and you were more than grateful for that. A protection spell you had casted recently would also prevent any ordinary sinner or hellborn to ever find it.

You dropped your head onto your desk, the loud noise it made caused Adam to lift his head, his eyes looking you up and down. The first man was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with a displeased expression, “The fuck is going on?” You sighed as you turned your head towards your lover, yet you kept it on the desk, you were too tired to lift it up. “Hell’s demons seem to be very interested in you, my love,” you mumbled as you reached for your phone that was interrupting the situation by buzzing quite loudly, “Fuck off, he’s not for fucking sale like a motherfucking slave,” and with that you hung up, not even hearing the person on the other end out. Your tired eyes watched as the first man left the little room you had organized to function as your office. Apparently Adam himself seemed to have enough of hell’s bullshit as well and you really could not blame the former angel at all. It must be exhausting to know that people down here either want him permanently dead or that they want to buy him like a pet you can just shop. The poor soul must suffer from this even more than you were. You were able to turn off your phone and ignore it, he wasn’t. Not when all of this was about him, after all. You had offered him protection when you had rescued him, now you were not even able to provide a peaceful afterlife for the first man.

In exhaustion you closed your eyes but the silence in your office didn’t last long, this time however it was not your phone that interrupted the somewhat peaceful moment, it was Adam. The first man was dragging a reclining couch through the door, pushing it through the room until he had decided on what appeared to be the perfect spot for it, then he walked over to where you were resting your head on your desk. Without any explanation the first man took your phone, muted the device and put it back on the table. “You,” he said as he lifted you out of your chair. Your body went limp as the brunette picked you up as if it was the easiest thing he had ever done, your head was now resting on the first man’s shoulder instead of the hard wooden desk and your body embraced the warmth that Adam’s body offered. Legs were wrapped around the brunette’s hips and arms held onto his neck, the former angel’s hands steadied your back so that you were not to fall. His soft, shimmering wings he wrapped around you, turning the stressful world off for a moment as he carried you over to the couch he had just dragged here. “Are gonna fucking rest and ignore all that motherfucking bullshit for a couple hours,” he finished his sentence as he flopped down onto the couch.

Adam had never been this touch before, yes he had hugged you, yes the both of you cuddled while sleeping, but him hauling an entire couch into your office just to distract you from the chaos that hell was going through because its residents now knew Adam was living with you? That was nothing you’d turn down - not that you’d ever turn down affection the former angel offered you in general. “Whatever my mighty winged love desires,” you hummed as you snuggled closer against his chest. The brunette’s chin came to rest on the top of your head as he simply held you, the wings provided a comfortable warmth that made you fall asleep quicker than you had thought it would. But the warmth paired with Adam’s scent had you asleep in no time and with a small smile your tall lover watched over his finally resting boyfriend.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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seramilla · 2 days

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If / whenever Odette proposes to Verosika— it’s not something big or grand. Instead it’s intimate and quiet when Odette shows the ring to verosika, it’s a beautiful ring— it had probably cost Odette a pretty penny. No one had seen it coming, not even Carmilla—who knows her girls like the palm of her hand.

Odette and Verosika have talked about marriage before. It's to be expected after watching, and participating in, Carmilla and Sera's wedding. Theirs had been an extravagant, social affair, thanks to Zestial and Lucifer, with every blue-blood in Hell who was on good terms with them present. But to the girls, neither really finds those kinds of huge public expressions of love appealing.

Verosika has to put on a show every day, so she'd told Odette, if and when it happens for her, she wants it to be more real. Not during one of her shows, and certainly not on stage; just something small between herself and her beloved. Odette can't say she disagrees. In fact, that's exactly what she'd hoped Verosika would say. Because that's exactly what she'd been planning.

Verosika already has everything a demon could want, and then some. So does Odette, honestly, and while both demons can afford to give each other the world, that's not really what Verosika wants, or what Odette wants, either. She desires to make it special, but also not too over-the-top. She decides to get Ozzy's advice on the right way to approach this. He is, of course, very helpful...but mostly about the honeymoon, and all the fun things that can come after.

He does know the name of a jewelsmith in Greed, though, and after some conversations with them back and forth over the phone, Odette orders a personalized pink diamond in a gold band, fit exactly to Odette's specifications. Not a big one...it's honestly rather small, but still worth a small fortune, she comes to find out. She still thinks it's more than enough to make Verosika happy. Odette hopes so, anyway.

Odette chooses to ask her on a night after Verosika gets back from a tour. They'd already had a date at Ozzy's planned. The king of Lust didn't have any other shows planned, and just reserved a small corner of the showroom for the two of them, allowing the musical stylings of Fizzarolli to complement their dinner of something Odette is too nervous to eat at the moment.

Verosika seems to notice Odette's not eating. Her girlfriend does have a hard time remembering to feed herself sometimes, and she brings it up to Odette, who is quickly shocked out of her state of internalized anxiety.

"Babydoll, you going to eat anything? You look pale."

"Oh! Yes! Sorry! Umm...shit. I was just thinking."

Verosika takes a sip of her wine. They'd only ordered one bottle; Odette wanted to be sober for the events yet to come.

"Thinking about what?"

Verosika reaches across the cozy table to touch Odette's hand. Odette's other hand is fumbling with the small box tucked safely into her pants pocket. Fizz has finished his last musical number, and walks off-stage to take a break. If there's any moment to act, Odette thinks, it's now. Taking a breath, she stands, and moves toward Verosika, before kneeling on one knee at her feet.

"Verosika Mayday...!" Odette starts, pausing more out of anxiety than dramatic effect. She hopes it makes her look cool, and not anxious, at any rate. "Ever since I met you, here, after what seems like a lifetime ago...my world has never been the same. I never imagined a literal pop star would ever look my way, let alone talk to me. You've taught me so much about actually living, and loving...and to never take anything for granted."

Odette pauses again, getting the box ready in her pocket.

"You've also taught me patience, and to love myself, and to never judge a book by its cover. You're my best friend. My confidant. My north star. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you, for however long that lasts. So, um, will you do me the honor of, uh...hold on..."

After a few fumbling attempts and only a little blushing, Odette manages to take the box out of her pocket, and opens in it front of Verosika. The succubus is wide-eyed, the pink of the diamond shining back at Odette through her eyes. Odette finishes her question with only a little bit of a flush on her face. She hopes Verosika will forgive her awkwardness.

"Will you marry me, Verosika?"

Odette doesn't even have to wait for an answer. One minute, she's kneeling at Verosika's feet, and the next, Verosika is lifting her off the ground, and placing her on the table on her back. The rest of their food and drink be damned. It gets everywhere. Odette's glad she's not wearing one of her lab coats, because it's soaking into the black pants suit she wore for the occassion. She puts the ring down on the table, before she drops it.

Verosika kisses her, full and flagrant, forcefully on the lips, and pulls away with a smack! She only lifts from Odette long enough to screech into the room, "Yes! Fuck, Odette, yes! I will!" before she's kissing her again, pushing Odette even more into the table. Odette worries they might be causing a scene. Unfortunately, her fears are confirmed, because Fizzarolli's already making obscene hand gestures behind the stage, grinning with his tongue out the side of his mouth.

So much for being discrete.

Fuck it, Odette thinks. Let him watch. She brings Verosika down further on top of her, and really starts sucking face with her girlfriend -- no, her fiancé -- right there on the table. Ozzie and Fizz give them two pairs of thumbs up, but neither of them notice. They're too busy celebrating, in their own little world, ignoring the captive audience behind them.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #odette hazbin hotel #verosika mayday #asmodeus helluva boss #fizzarolli helluva boss #odesika #ask #anon #fan theories #carmilla carmine #sera hazbin hotel #seramilla #zestial hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar

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hobicakess · 20 hours

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I’m just dropping a little something that’s been brewing for a while and I have like 4 series that I haven't posted

cw: allusions to past SA, period typical themes, there might be some switches from 3rd to 2nd person ill fix it later.

Just vampire hyung line and their immortal wife. Throughout the years she met them all one by one and she married them all legally throughout the years. Today we’re going to read about her, Seokjin, and Yoongi's story.

First she was married to Jin although she met Yoongi decades before. Though their relationship was still very rocky. Her and Seokjins marriage was strictly arranged by the Supernatural council. Seokjin being an original vampire and her being an original immortal (meaning she was “blessed” directly by the gods to walk the earth eternally) the marriage was for the sake of reproduction.

At first Jin was furious about the arrangement. He was an original vampire. He'd been living way before the council was organized and now they were demanding him. Kim Seokjin. The handsomest, wealthiest, one of the eldest vampires to live to marry a silly human who'd been cheated out of death and they want him to taint his very old and pure bloodline. He was extremely offended at the notion.

But all his protest went out the window when he saw her.

If you couldn’t already tell, Seokjin back then was extremely arrogant, cocky, and selfish. He saw her as a Status booster (as if his status wasn’t already high) having her by his side, this beautiful immortal woman to procreate with— this would make everyone even more envious for eternity so he sucked it up and agreed. He of course would have other lovers just like she already did

Yoongi. Former Emperor Min Yoongi wasn’t her lover at this time, he just so happened to be bonded to her. That bond was only because of the bracelet he wore around his wrist, she tricked him into putting it on only for his safety, Yoongi was devoted to her because of it, and regardless he loved her dearly. He had no choice but to follow her wherever she went and now she’s forcing him to watch her marry.

When she met with the council Yoongi thought she’d disagree but she didn't, which made him beyond furious.

When the meeting ended Seokjin walked to him “Looking forward to sharing, Vampling.” Patting his shoulder, Yoongi's fangs bared as he went to attack the older vampire but she called his name and he had no choice but to follow her like a kicked puppy.

When the two of them were alone, Yoongi slammed her against the wall, his hand breaking through it. “You are mad! You’re really going to marry that entitled pig?” He hissed venom dripping from his fangs. He didn’t know if it was him being an emotional vampling or his love for her making him feel this way. He’s never felt like this before. He used to cut heads off with a blink of an eye, and now he’s crying because he should be the one marrying her. “You would let me sit back and suffer while some random man marries and fucks you like a common whore.''

As you can tell back then Yoongi couldn’t control any of his new found emotions, being that he’d never felt any before he grew up as a king, a boss. emotions were for common folk now here he is.

“Yoongi, I understand you’re upset but don’t you dare call me names. I am simply doing-“ he cut her off, finding another part of the wall to punch, closer to the side of her face this time. “I’ve watched you burn down villages, I’ve seen you make men tear their own skin from their bone, You’re far more powerful than-“

“Shut your mouth. They mustn’t know of the powers I have possessed. They’ll lock me up for eternity just as they’ve done the warlocks and witches.” Her hands raised to touch his still warm cheeks, she’ll forever miss his warmth when he hits his chilling point. “ I am doing this for the sake of us, everything I have done these years has been for us.”

Yoongi scoffed, “If you genuinely want to do something for me release me of these awful feelings.” moving her hands from his face; “If you truly do not wish to be bound to me any longer I will remove your Geumganggo” she reach to unlock the golden bracelet and before she could remove it Yoongi was gone in a flash.

Her and Seokjin's wedding was beyond big, almost every supernatural species being invited. It was like Seokjin to go all out like this. While she was being prepped for the ceremony she was saddened, Yoongi had left for weeks and she didn’t know if or when he’d come back, but the wedding still happened without Yoongi and you had no living family so she was alone stuck with Seokjin and his asshole friends and family.

When she met Seokjin father she immediately felt a deep sense of hatred for him and then she felt bad for SeokJin. The reason he acted the way he did was because of the way he grew up and who he grew up with. “Well I Wouldn’t have wanted my son married to an immortal but you currently have the hips to make his children.”

Seokjin's father's eyes drifted to her hips that were outlined in the tight red wedding dress.“Thank you sir.” she bowed with gritted teeth.

“We are family, please call me father.” He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips when it was snatched away by Seokjin.

“My wife must be really tired, she is still a human after all and we can’t have her too tired out already” his joke made the whole crowd laugh embarrassing her further, he scooped her up bridal style effortlessly.

“Goodnight.” and he zoomed away bringing the two of them into their bed chambers.

She was on the bed, pressed underneath Jin’s wide body. “Hello wife.” He smirked, pushing a coil of her hair back.

“Are you planning to pretend we are actually a happily married couple?” She stared up at him frowning.

“It speeds up the breeding process.” scoffing, pushing him off, stomping on the dresser, taking all her jewelry in angry huffs. He stood behind watching her in the vanity mirror “ You looked beautiful today, and that says a lot coming from me.” turning to look at her ‘husband’ scoffing again.

“Are you immune to not being a.. nuisance?”

“You are upset your vampling lover did not show.” it wasn’t a question it was a statement and it pissed her off more.“Vamplings are emotional creatures especially when it comes to their sires.”

“I am not a vampire, how can I be his sire?” Looking at him through the mirror. “Well I am going to assume you were with him when he first awoke?”

She was with him. Through the aching process of change. Holding cold towels on his forehead while the venom and humanity fought against each other, she was there when he awoke with the hunger of only fresh blood.

Seokjin clicked his tongue, "I guess the human stupidity still stays in Immortals" her frown becomes deeper as she removes the caked up makeup on her face with even more force than before. "Are you planning to frown all night? It is our wedding night."

She sighs, standing and unzipping her dress so it falls to her feet going to lay back on the sheets.

"What is this?" He asked confused, eyebrows raised as he stared down at her missionary position. "I am speeding up the breeding process."

"I cannot do it like.." he waved his hand over you

"This."

"Oh? would you prefer me on my stomach?" She moved herself into a face down position causing the vampire to sputter and the remaining blood he consumed during the wedding rushed to his ears as he pulled at his tie removing it.

"I cannot have you in anyway if you aren't willing." She turned back to him sitting with confusion evident all over her face. Seokjin couldn't believe it. "I was in position?"

"Position doesn't mean willingness, darling" he sighed, grabbing a sleeping gown from the dresser and handing it to her. She stares at him hard, eyes wide and the most vulnerable Seokjin has seen since meeting the immortal. “I admit that I haven't been the kindest since meeting you.”

He swallows hard, kneeling in front of her, helping her step into the frilly gown pulling it over her bare shoulders, skillfully tying the strings in the back of it. “But. I am not that kind of man who abuses his masculinity and forces himself onto unconsenting women.”

When he finished he grabbed her hands “For as long as we are together as wife and husband I will never force you to do anything you won't want to”

Standing and rolling his wide shoulder he adds “Sex wise of course”

She scoffed at him loudly, “And I thought you were being genuine.”

“You're a few centuries late darling.”

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #dee recs.#hoseok x reader #bts ot7 #kim seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader

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