#''HEAR ME OUT'' - yes we are indeed hearing you out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinbowaman · 3 days

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how would both heethan and heelel react to y/n saying "i'm not scared of you anymore"

Ooooh anon.

To put it simply, heethan wouldn’t really care so much about bc he actually isn’t trying to scare you, it just so happens he does at times. He wants you to be comfortable around him, and respect his rules (which pretty much leaves you in isolation). So if you were to tell him when he is not angry or irritated, he’d be fine with it. NOW…let’s say you broke one of his rules…and he gets angry…

“Who was it? Who sent that text to you?”

“I-it…it’s a classmate. They were only asking to meet up so I could help them with the homework assignment.”

“Did I not make it fucking clear that NO ONE talks to you?”

“But…it’s for school Heeseung—“

“And that suddenly makes it better?”

“He-Heeseung please.”

“Come here.”

You take your steps closer when he suddenly stops you. “No. Fucking crawl.”

“W-what?”

“I SAID FUCKING CRAWL.”

You crawl in all fours, beginning to sob. Once you come within reach he grabs your chin and tilts it upwards to face him directly. “You told me earlier that you’re not scared of me, right?”

A shiver crawls up your spine. “Y-yes…”

You answer to confirm but you’re not entirely sure if that was the case anymore. His dark eyes widen, eluding terror in the finest form as a sadistic and psychotic expression takes form on his handsome face. He does not smirk but doesn’t furrow his brows in anger, instead, a blank and wide stare or twisted emotion eyeballs directly into your soul. God knows what he was capable of doing at this stage. A year escapes from the corner of your eye as you feel the tremble of fear hit you. You didn’t admit it verbally but indeed, you were afraid of him.

“Hmph…we’ll see about that.” He chuckles faintly as he pinches your chin harshly and mashes his lips against yours. Breaking the kiss, he tells you…

“I’m going to rip you apart.”

Authors note: if you know anything about heethan…you know what that means. And trust me, there will be more pain than pleasure this time around.

Now for Heelel…

Heelel likes to scare you. He likes to torment you at times because it’s his way of playing with you, since he loves to see you cry, laugh, smile, and be angry. If he’s been seeing a consistent smile on your face, he’ll love it absolutely, but will want just a little more bang for his buck, if you know what that means…

“I’m not scared of you anymore, heelel.”

“Oh really?” He looks up from his throne. His eyes wide with a horrific expression of sinister value. There he goes with that look of malice and twisted psychotic stare of murderous persona. “Feeling a little bold, aren’t we?”

You meant what you said, despite spitting it out of anger during the argument. Regardless of his stare, you maintained composure and refuse to falter. “Not bold. Fed up. I’ve been here for over a year and obeyed your every demand. I’ve given up my body, and there were times it was given against my own will I might add. Yet you still refuse to allow me the small bit of freedom to venture out and see my family. It’s unfair! I’ve told you I won’t leave, I just want to see them from time to time.”

He shoots up from his seat and grabs hold of you. He was so fast, displaying lightening speed as he not only embraced you with his own hands, but used the powers of his demonic force in telekinetic energy to keep you still. “How about I just make a visit and tear them apart, limb from limb, and have you witness their demise so you can forever hear their screams?”

You stare in shock. How could he say that to you? He takes notice of your surprised expression and kept it going. “I can send one of my brothers…or a demon spawned by the fires of this world that would love to purge and plunder into mortal flesh.”

“S-stop. You wouldn’t do that—“

“Oh no?” He chuckles as he scoots a piece of your hair aside lovingly. It was sickening sweet. The way he faintly smirked as he admired your face, held your wrist forcefully and pinned it on your lower back. “You wanna test the waters and see what happens, baby?”

He wasn’t bluffing. He loved you, insatiably…but that was all the more reason why he would do terrible things to hurt and isolate you. He loved you to do selfish things such as keep you all to himself, his possessive toxic obsession with you drove him to do so. With what he wouldn’t give to make you happy, and trust you to witness that he has done so many times. He has proven that he lives for you. He provides for you. He will do anything to make you feel at ease and happy. But cross and defy him as you are doing now, and he’ll punish you in a manner where it hurts the most…your loved ones you left behind. Even if they didn’t exist, he would find other ways to get his desperate screams out of you.

“Tell me darling, do you still feel ‘fed up’? Because we can keep going if you want…or we can stop and leave things as they are, and be happy. YOU WILL KEEP ME HAPPY.”

His grip tightens, causing a slight bit of pain at the been of your elbow as he pinches the small gap between your wrist and back, closing the remaining distance, enhancing the soreness in the process. You whine in pain as you try to use your free hand to push away but to no avail. “Listen to me, princess. I would kill for you. I would die for you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you feel alive and eternally happy. But I will say this only one time…”

The corners of his mouth split, widening that offensively horrific grin he displayed. It was much more sinister and malicious than your ever seen him. His eyes widen psychotically, the sclera taking up more space as his black iris shrinks, enhancing that demonic and possessed expression. It was beyond terrifying. You swallow bile and terror as your eyes began to water, his expression was horrific enough, but to be this close as he closes the distance and his tongues which had grown longer and took the form that if a snake, slivers out and slithers against your skin. His voice was demonic in nature as it now carried a tune of high and low pitch simultaneously speaking the words. He has become the stuff that nightmares were made of.

“L-let go!”

“Answer me.” He maintains his force as he sternly demands you to obey. “You going to be good and keep me happy?”

You shift your face away and body squinting your eyes to avoid the ungodly expression closing in. His sharp and elongated teeth gently pressed against your cheek as he snarls a grin. “No matter if you willingly stay or not, whether you cry or laugh, or feel safe or frightened…just know y/n….i win either way.”

You gasp for air as you realized that the fear quaking in your chest caused you to hold in your breaths. “I have you…you’re mine. That’s all I need to feel complete. Whether you feel content or despair—is entirely up to you. But if you’re facing an eternity in Hell, let me tell you…it wouldn’t hurt to have a lover like me.”

He forces that offensive snake-like tongue coats the interior muscle and skin of your cheek and roof of your mouth, while his demeaning eyes violate your soul as he halfway shuts his lids in contentment. He was relishing in the current state of fear and despair you were in as you were forced to swallow his tongue down your throat, nearly making you gag.

He laughs maliciously. “It wouldn’t hurt to have me…care for you…to love you…to bring you happiness and give you whatever you ask for…aren’t I good to you baby?”

You nod urgently, hoping he would go back to normal already. “Say it.” He grits out as his tongue slowly slides out. Disgusting.

“Y-you’re good..t-to me.” You stutter as you hiccuped a sob or two. He caresses your cheek and pets your hair…his face and voice slowly transitions back to the dashingly handsome appearance you longed for. “Come here.” He smirks.

You collapse as you grab onto his chest, burying your face into him as you sob hysterically. You felt contradicted by holding on to him. You wanted to both, be comforted by him yet also run away. Far away. Since the latter was not an option, you needed to hold onto something…so why not him? The one who loves you more than his own eternal life.

“Shhh…you wanna dance with me baby? We can watch the stars and pick your favorite flowers. How does that sound?”

You grit your teeth as your sobs come to a calmed state. “Y-yes…that sounds good.”

“Good. No more of this talk about your freedom and leisure of traveling. You can go anywhere you like…so long as you’re under my sight.”

You nod. “Oh and y/n…”

You look up and witnessed that psychotic stare returning. “Try anything sneaky and I promise I’ll EAT YOU ALIVE.”

…….

So tell me anon, would you really want to tell either one of them that you aren’t scared of them anymore? 😏 I don’t think you guys want that.

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queers-gambit · 8 months

Text

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

Text

At First Sight PT2

Alastor x doe!reader

PART ONE PART 3

this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didn’t think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and it’s quite short! i’m so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you

Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didn’t do the no no there is no pregnancy it’s just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think that’s it lmk whatcha think

wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei

Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. You’d been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.

“Goodmorning my doe,” Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. “Good morning my buck.” You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. “Indeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.” He chirped happily, ears flicking. “We should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.” You say with a grimace.

Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. “Come now my doe, I’ll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is we’ll be ashamed together!”

Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.

Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. “You made a fucking deal!?” Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!

“Neva mind that Vagina! Let’s talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-“ Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. “Yikes alright, twelve is greedy…. ten?” Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.

At the sight of Alastor’s figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. “You’re quite the sight.” You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastor’s head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.

“Uhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?” Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. “I… well I’m not sure why but there’s just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes i…” You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.

“Well this lovely doe was just made for me you see? I’m perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.” Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.

“This is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!” As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. “So what did you even sell- what was the deal?” You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didn’t know, just that you gave yourself to him.

Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. “Worry not you angry little woman,” Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. “The contract was nothing greater than marriage.” The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.

Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. “Why so suddenly?” Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. “I’m unsure dear, just that i couldn’t resist this little doe. Like fate.” Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.

“Maybe it’s like some soulmate bullshit between deer?” Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. “That is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, y’know in the beginning.” Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.

“No way dear, how is that possible?” He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again weren’t happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. “Well you both are deer, could it be instinctual?” Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.

You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. “I think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. It’s kinda of embarrassing.” You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didn’t like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. “Vaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.” Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.

Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didn’t see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.

Alone in Alastor’s radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. “So Al,” Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. “Can you please tell me what’s going on with the deal, listen i can’t have them get hurt! I’ll even make a deal.” Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didn’t want to make a deal, but she would.

Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “It was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, i’m not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us should’ve stayed private,” Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.

“But suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. I’m not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured I’d have them with a deal.” Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.

“So you won’t, and you don’t have any plans to hurt them?” Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didn’t enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didn’t know he could be any more truthful. “My dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.” Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.

Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. “How come you guys are back so quick?” Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice, eyes bugged slightly. “Yeah you won’t believe what we found.” Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didn’t seem too keen on the book ‘uhs’ immediately falling from her mouth.

You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. “It’s species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doe’s are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda ‘mate’ or ‘bond’ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.” You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. “Weird. It must be because you’re a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.”

A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. “Don’t worry Al, we’re pretty sure you’re still unable to.” Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didn’t really know that to be true. You weren’t worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. “Welp, at least now we know that’s a thing,” Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.

Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. “Look at us figuring stuff out why wasn’t this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.” Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

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sakkiichi · 8 months

Text

COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

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he-calls-me-kitten · 2 months

Text

Sugar, Spice and a Tempting Vice

VA! MC x OM! Characters

"Hey Levi, any new game recommendations for me? I just finished the last lot of books Satan suggested." You asked, plopping down your head on his shoulder to look at his screen.

"M-MC! You have to warn me before you do such things!" He muttered, his ears turning red as he scrolled some webpages pages for you. "But okay yeah these are the new games that are out recently... see anything you like?"

"Oh my God! It's out it's out!" You pointed excitedly at the screen. "Pretty Little Things is out! Finally!! I was dying to tell you all about it!"

Levi visibly stiffened up. "You-you were waiting for this particular game to come out? Are you sure it's not another game with a similar sounding name?"

"Nah uh this is the exact same one. Look up the list of voice actors in this game!"

"WHAT?! MC WHY IS YOUR NAME IN HERE?????"

"Yes! This was the new part-time job I couldn't tell you about since it was still in production! Im so glad you can just play it now!"

"...it's uh ready for download on all platforms already...so which character did voice?"

"Oh spoiler alert, my character is the only one that doesn't have a name, you have assign me one, the same way you name yourself. They even designed the characters to resemble all the VA's and add in some of their personalities, isn't that sweet?"

"Hahaha y-yeah definitely sweet! I'll be sure to check it out soon!"

"Great! Lemme know what you think of the game okay?!" You squeezed him in a small hug before you left.

Later in the Demon Brothers only group chat:

Levi: Code Red! Code Red! ASHSKSHSKSKSJJSKKS

Mammon: WHAT WHAT THAT MEANS AN MC RELATED EMERGENCY RIGHT??

Asmo: OMG are they OKAY?? Should I go check up on them in their room!?!

Satan: I'm already on my way.

Mammon: NOT BEFORE ME YOU'RE NOT!

Belphie: Is MC hurt in anyway?

Beel: Did they pass out from hunger?! I can bring them emergency snacks right away

Lucifer: Can you lot not lose your minds everytime MC is mentioned? Pathetic. Levi, calm down and tell us what's wrong.

Beel: But Lucifer I just saw you hurrying up the stairs to MC's room too...

Satan: Typical Lucifer. By the way, MC is perfectly fine, happy even. Levi what are you on about?

Mammon: Yeah MC can't stop smiling! It's a good thing that happened, you idiot! Why would you scare us like that?

Asmo: Omg apparently MC voice acted in a new game! Levi I need you to download it for me ASAP please!

Beel: Me too, please.

Belphie: Me three.

Lucifer: I've already done it, you all can do it yourselves if you could do your own work for once.

Satan: Oh shut up, MC just did it for you right now as they did it for me.

Levi: It's a Dating Simulator. With multiple H-rated DLC endings. And MC is one of the dateables.

...

Levi: Hello?!! Did you guys not see my message?!

Levi: Seriously no reaction?! You guys aren't freaked out by this?!?

Beel: I just heard several doors opening and closing at once.

Asmo: Oh come Levi, I think you already know what our reaction is Levi ♥️ How can we possibly hold in our excitement after such a news!?

Levi: Are you all downloading the game together?!!! Y'all are hogging the bandwidth too much, my download speed has gone way down!!

Simeon: Hey

Simeon: I heard some demons in a cafe, raving about a game where MC plays one of the main characters?

Solomon: Indeed MC just sent us all a link right now.

Simeon: Oh is that so? I'll get Luke to help me download it after he's done with his.

Levi: Luke is playing it too?! I don't think it's appropriate given it's certain hidden endings!!

Barbatos: MC already made sure of it. He only has access to the sibling and friendship routes. It's a special version they added for all ages.

Diavolo: It already has downloads in the ten thousands. I'm really glad to see how MC is beloved by Devildom.

Levi: Are NONE of you affected by the fact that there are erotic routes with MC's VOICE?!!

Solomon: Oh I personally cannot wait hear my adorable apprentice's performance.

Barbatos: Ahem. I'd rather not comment on it.

Simeon: Same.

Diavolo: Same.

Levi: Sigh. We really are just a helpless lot at the mercy of MC.

To be continued...

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barabtos

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sughuru · 4 months

Text

you’re late

- gojo satoru x reader and young! fushiguro megumi

you forgot to pick up a certain someone from school.

genres/warnings: fluff, reader is gojo’s s/o, platonic relationship with megumi, kinda ooc, more of a thought that came to my mind, not proofread

notes: hopefully i’ll have time to write more as christmas break is finally here!! as always, english isnt my first language so ignore any errors, thank youu!

home | masterlist

—

You were impromptly called in by Yaga to take over a second grader’s mission in Kyoto and you had just finished. You checked the time on your phone and noticed it was almost 4 PM. As you were heading home you decided to stop by the supermarket to grab yourself a drink and perhaps a snack and some candies for Tsumiki and Megumi, although, they’d probably be eaten by your boyfriend anyway.

As you were walking home, you received a phone call from your loving boyfriend, Satoru. You answered the call, a small smile forming, “yes, darling?”

You could hear Satoru chuckle from the other end of the phone, “Hey, babe! Just returned from a mission, have you picked up Megumi?” he asks. You froze on the spot, almost dropping the groceries earlier. You gripped onto the phone tighter, your other hand tightly clutching on the plastic bags.

“…weren’t you supposed to pick Megumi up?” you asked, worry washed over you as you quickly sped walk home.

Noises from Satoru’s end of the line were loud, “huh? I thought you— damn it! Can’t you see I’m calling the love of my life?” he seems to be in the middle of a exorcism. You sighed and quickly ended the call.

“Okay okay, fuck, I forgot!” you quickly turned around and made your way to Megumi’s school. Your heart was filled with guilt, realizing that you really did forget to pick him up as you remembered that Satoru did remind you last week that he couldn’t pick the young boy up today.

Standing right outside the school gate, you entered to look for the tiny boy. You noticed a little boy with jet black hair by the swing, swinging himself back and forth. As you got closer, you could hear soft sniffles.

“Gumi?” you softly called out and the boy turned around, revealing it to be Megumi indeed. You quickly ran up to him, “I’m so so so sorry…I forgot— I accepted a mission and completely forgot Satoru couldn’t pick you up and Tsumiki’s at a sleepover.” you quickly hugged him tightly. Megumi didn’t say anything.

“I-it’s okay…” Megumi’s soft voice cracked which made your heart shatter a little more, you noticed there were dry tear stains on his cheek.

You picked him up, “as an apology, how about we get some ice cream, yeah?” you grinned at him.

Megumi nods, clearly still upset by the whole situation; but who could blame him?

At the ice cream store, you allowed him to get two scoops of his favorite flavors. The boy seemed to be in a better mood after eating.

“Megumi, I’m really sorry again, I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long at school!” you quickly apologized again and the boy shook his head, “it’s okay…it was a mistake, right?”

You blinked, “of course it was!” That’s when you realized something.

Megumi and Tsumiki’s father abandoned them when they were really young, you had assumed that Megumi had no recollection of those memories but today’s situation says otherwise.

Realizing that Megumi thought that you and Satoru were abandoning him and his sister caused you to slightly tear up.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I-“ you quickly wipe your tears but Megumi’s small hands beat you to it. He attempted to wipe it off with a tissue before throwing it away.

“It was an honest mistake, I-i understand, okay?” he muttered. For a seven year old, you couldn’t believe how mature he is for his age.

You nodded, “yeah, yeah.”

Megumi nods. The air was so thick, you were about to break the ice when Megumi looked up again, “Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“…don’t tell Gojo, okay?” Megumi starts as he mixes the melted ice cream that is left in his cup, “you and…Gojo won’t ever leave me and Tsumiki, right?”

You pulled him into a hug, “of course not! I wouldn’t even dream of it!” Megumi gave you a small smile, “promise?”

“A promise.” you reassured the boy once more as you tightly hugged him more. It was evident that Megumi seemed to relax after you hugging him.

Later that evening, you explained the whole situation to Satoru. To make up for your mistake, you took Megumi and Satoru to his favorite dog cafe and let him stay as long as he pleases.

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prncessrindou · 1 month

Text

KISS ME THRU THE PHONE, ran haitani ♱

♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, ran is in jail (after getting arrested in Tenjiku), phone sex, fingering, (reader touches themselves for ran) and pet names.

♱ authors note . . I got inspiration from the song called Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy (listen to it and you’ll see what I mean lol)

♱ repost from wakashawty

“You have a collect call from .. Ran Haitani .. do you accept the charges?” The operator said and you quickly touched the bottom to be connected with your boyfriend. You haven’t heard from him since he was arrested and for some reason you’re kind of anxious to speak with him.

“Hi, pretty thing,” Ran’s voiced through the other end and you got butterflies in your stomach. His voice seemed much deeper than usual and it made you rub your thighs together.

“Hi, Ran .. h- how have you been?” You questioned, laying back on your mattress and getting comfortable. “Hm, I’m better since I’m talking to my favorite girl.” He said, you could tell he had a sly grin on his face and indeed he did . “How have you been though? You still working your ass off in college?” Ran questions, leaning against the painted wall of his cell unit.

You smiled, “of course I am. I have so many assignments that’s due and I’m nowhere near finished with any of them and I haven’t been getting any sleep. College is draining and m’ so tired.”

Ran chuckled through the phone, “told your ass to quit and I’ll take care of you.”

“How? You’re currently in jail!”

“I have my connections .. you must forget who I am?”

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness and bit your bottom lip, “I know exactly who you are, Ran.”

“Heh, you better.” He said, he suddenly turned around to take a look to see if anyone was behind or around him and no one was around because most of them seemed to be into the television or in their cells. Good, he thought to himself.

“Say, princess, what are you wearing right now?” Ran asked, his voice low and almost seductive.

“Oh, um, a pink night gown.”

Ran licked his lips, his hand going down to his clothed shaft. “Shit, girl, if I was there I’d rip that shit off in a heartbeat. You wearing any panties?”

His words made your pussy pulse. “No .. I don’t have any on.” You said almost in a whisper, you began imagining Ran tearing off your gown and toying with your bare cunt.

“Yeah? Be a good girl and play with it fa’ me.” Ran mutters, his hand squeezing his harden clothed cock.

“Mmh—” you moaned softly, your fingers touching your bare pussy and slowly sliding in your wet folds. You closed your eyes, imagining Ran’s long slim fingers down there. He’d make you cum within seconds just from his fingers and after you’d cum all on his fingers, he’d make you lick the slick on them.

“Talk to me, pretty thing.”

“Fuck, Ran, I wish you were here.. I miss you so much.” You murmured, your fingers sliding in and out of your drenched pussy.

Ran grinned and licked his lips, “miss you too, baby.” He strokes his cock, he knows he’s leaking pre cum but he doesn’t care. “You know if I was there, I’d take care of you. First I’d play that slutty pussy, make you cum to the point your legs are fucked.” You know he isn’t just talking to hear himself talk, he’s done it plenty of times before.

“Then I’d give you this cock .. you’d like that wouldn’t you, princess? Me stretching out that tight pussy while you cream on all over it. Fuck, I’m bouta cum jus’ thinking about it.” Ran says through the other end. At this point, he doesn’t care who sees or hears him. Well it’s not like anyone is going to question him about it because he is, along with his brother, Rindou, the most feared within the unit.

“God, Ran, yes! I want it s’ bad!”

“I know, pretty thing, I know— you close, baby?”

You nodded your head, although he couldn’t see you. “Mhmm— yes! I’m so close!”

Ran chuckles lowly and as he was about to say something, the guard comes in. “Haitani, get back in your cell. We’re checking cells and we need to do a headcount.”

“Gimme a sec.”

“Now, Haitani!” The guard snaps at him before leaving back out to go get another guard for a headcount.

Ran just clicks his tongue. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the guard come back so he needed to make it quick. “Say, pretty thing, you still imagining me there? Me touching that pretty pussy and fucking you til you’re dizzy?”

“Mm, yes!” Your voice almost sounded like a cry and he was thriving off that.

Ran bites back a moan, “you don’t know how bad I want you right now— my cock stuffed in you while you’re begging and squirming for more.”

You feel it, that knot in your stomach is tightening up and almost on the verge of breaking. “Rannnn— m’ cummin!”

“Shit, cum baby. Let it go.” Ran coos, rubbing his cock to the sound of your hitch breathing as you cum undone on the other end. Your thighs are trembling as your orgasm hits you like a wave, washing all over you.

Ran listens to your breathing as you calm down from your high, he knows you’re a mess right now and God, if only he was there to see the expression on your face. “You good, princess?” He asks.

“Mmhm, m’ okay.” You respond, still quite dizzy from your orgasm.

The previous guard comes back into the unit with two others along side them, getting ready for headcount and checking cells. “Shit, the guards are back so I gotta go, baby.”

A whine escaped your lips as Ran told you those words, you knew he had to go sometime or another, but you wished he didn’t have to go now.

A sly grin creeps up on Ran’s handsome features, your whining is just so cute to him. “I’ll be calling you back soon, alright, pretty thing..” And with that, he hung up the phone and the call was disconnected.

You held the phone to your ear for a few seconds before laying it down to your side. You finally sighed in disappointment because you didn’t even get to kiss him through the phone before he hung up . . .

tagging the ran girlies :P . . @zeltqz @sin-and-punishment @ilyhaitanii @haitani-maki

comment or send me a ask if you’d like to be tagged in my future work!! (idk how to work the google docs thingy for that yet lmao)

#tokyo revengers #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev #tokrev ran #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #tokyo revengers ran #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tr ran #tr smut #ran haitani x y/n

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yzzart · 5 months

Note

okay okay hear me out: an interview compilation made after y/n and tom are public about their relationship that consists of all the moments they nearly slipped up/did slip up BEFORE they were public that fans didn't pick up on until it was confirmed

almost caught.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: after you and Tom assumed your relationship, your fans carefully observe every detail of all of your interviews.

word count: 576!

notes: this request got me so much, anon! you guys're so creative and keep requesting!

"Who would you…" — Taking one of the small cards, which contained some questions and questions, the interviewer read it carefully. — "…rather be struck in an elevator with?" — After reading, she moved her eyes to each of you, waiting for the answer.

In a pure coincidence, or irony of fate, you and Tom tilted your heads towards each other; meeting in a look of complicity, with arched eyebrows. — Blyth could see your lips trembling in an attempt to hold a cheeky smile and almost risking laughing along.

Oh, the answer was so obvious and risky but it had to be kept secret, even at a certain point.

"We're talking a trivia quiz today." — The producer, behind the cameras, explained, duly and carefully, to you; pointing to the cell phone that Tom was holding. — And you can play together or you can compete against each other." — She clapped her hands, ending the explanation and leaving the two choices to you.

"Oh, no." — You spoke slowly, resting your hand on your knee and leaning towards Rachel, who was laughing and thinking about what could happen.

"She'll want to compete." — Tom exclaimed, pointing, indiscreetly, the cell phone that was in his hand, towards you and looking at the producer. — "I know you, my darling." — Now, he started to direct his eyes at you accompanied by a confident smile.

"Oh, shut up." — Your hand rested on his arm, slightly pushing him. — "And of course I'm going to compete." — Blyth raised an eyebrow as Rachel and Josh laughed. — "Just to watch you lose."

“Oh my god, Y/N!” — The interviewer's lively and expressive voice caught her attention, shaking the microphone a little frantically. — "Come here!" — She asked and Tom turned towards you, expecting you presence next to him.

Holding onto a part of your long and majestic dress, you directed your steps towards the meeting point where they were. — It was a simple surface, like a small stage, with only two steps to climb; it wasn't risky or complicated. — Tom tilted his hand towards you, wanting to help, and you held it; feeling the coolness, not bothersome, of your rings.

"You look so beautiful." — Tom whispered, and the camera recorded the moment he leaned into your ear, distributing a quick kiss through your hair. — "You always are, actually."

"Look who's talking." — Your brief laughs came into sync. — "Thank you, my love."

"Hi, i'm Tom Blyth!" — The camera centered on your presentation, your hand waved briefly at your along with a soft smile, slightly showing your teeth.

And also, biting your tongue to stop yourself from laughing at the joke that you and Tom had joined in on. — He was the one who suggested it.

"And i'm Y/N." — Tom nodded, shaking it just once, and quickly raised his eyebrows.

"I was going to say the same thing." — The oldest rested his arm against the back of his chair, before looking at the floor at a fictitious point and, quickly, looking at your face. — "Really."

"We have a kind of connection." — You clicked your tongue, pursing your lips, and moving one of your hands pointing at you and Tom. — “A connection indeed.”

"Like, soulmates, right?" — He leaned down, raising his index finger and pointing to his head, then to your; signaling possible telepathy and joking about it.

"Yes!" — Your laughter extended with Tom's, and the interviewer's, and you started to make the same movements, at a certain second getting in sync with him.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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archieimagines · 1 year

Text

touching din | din djarin

Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch.

his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.

The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.

It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.

The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.

“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.

The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”

A nod. “That’s a yes.”

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”

And then he did what you loved.

He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.

A beskar kiss.

You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.

He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.

Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.

Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.

But he surprised you.

His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.

His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.

He wanted more.

You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.

He loved this.

You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.

He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.

His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.

He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.

Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”

Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.

Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.

Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.

You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.

But then… Had you made that up?

You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.

But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.

Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—

“Morning.”

— What you thought was slumber.

His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.

It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”

“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”

A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.

The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.

But yet…

Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.

It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.

Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.

It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.

You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.

Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.

Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”

He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.

His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.

Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.

“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.

Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.

“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”

“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”

“Black. Brown, black.”

You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?

The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--

His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.

A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.

You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.

You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”

He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.

Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.

Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.

Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.

Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.

“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through.

Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.

“We need to go!”

You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements.

The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.

You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again.

The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.

He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.

Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.

Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”

You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.

The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight.

It was his own fault.

Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.

You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”

Silence.

“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”

There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.

“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”

“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”

“No.”

“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”

“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”

“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”

“I know you can.”

“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”

He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”

“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”

“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”

Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.

“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”

“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”

“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”

He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.

Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.

What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.

You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”

The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey. Look at me.”

“I can’t, Din.”

“Why not?”

Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”

Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”

Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.

“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.

But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.

“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”

For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”

“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”

“That’s not how I-”

“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”

“You know I can’t show you my face.”

A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.

Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”

He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.

“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”

“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”

You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.

Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.

“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”

And there was darkness.

He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”

He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.

“Why do you never-”

You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.

Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.

“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”

He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.

“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”

“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.

The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”

“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”

You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”

A hum of humour. “This is the way.”

You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.

You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.

He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.

He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.

Clearly, this was his first one ever.

You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.

And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.

When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”

“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.

“We do this more often.”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”

#mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #mando imagine #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #star wars imagine #star wars #pedro pascal #written by archie

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explicit-tae · 2 months

Text

Little Doe

An alternate world in which Predator Hybrids are the top of the Hybrid hierarchy. It’s Valentine’s Day and you, a Prey Hybrid, decide to help a Predator Hybrid through their heat. @whipwhoops @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @babycandy111

Word Count: 5.161

Warning: smut, hybrid/shifter universe, wolf hoseok, doe/deer reader, heat/rut sex, dirty talk, licking, oral sex, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, knotting, biting, impregnation/breeding kink,

Valentine’s Day Masterlist | Alternate Universe

“Jung Hoseok.” the man says, arm spread out to offer his hand to you. You take it with a smile, shaking it. His grip is firm, but polite.

“Y/L Y/N.” you introduce yourself before sitting down behind your desk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jung-ssi.”

“Hoseok is fine.” the man smiles, flashing you a pair of perfect teeth.

Your body flushes and you nod. “Yes, Hoseok.” you murmur, slightly embarrassed by your sudden change of attitude. “I-I got your paperwork. It appears to me that you are a Predator Shifter…?”

You were what was called a “heat partner”. In a world where Shifters walk freely alongside humans, predator Shifters and prey Shifters such as yourself, it was important for Shifters to have something for themselves. Such as a heat partner when they aren’t “mated” to anyone.

Heat partners are exactly what they are described, perfectly designed to assist a person through their heat - male or female. You had made the business proposal back in college and the business has since grown national - even as the CEO, you participated (only when top dollars were made to be earned).

Such as now, with Jung Hoseok.

The man is charming, you’d admit. Tall with broad shoulders and a sculptured face. Smooth skin with soft eyes and a pair of heart-shaped lips. In order to afford your services, the man was obviously wealthy - having stated in his application that whatever price you listed was what he was willing to pay.

The kicker was - he was a predator Shifter. Your agency does strictly prey. That didn’t mean that you didn’t open another separate business for Predators - you had! You, however, were not running said business.

“Yes, I am.” Hoseok nods his head after your question. “I take suppressants to…mask my scent.”

No wonder, you think; There wasn’t any scent on him and that meant that he was dousing himself with suppressants on the daily. The thought frightened you a bit - just what type of Predator was he?

“As you know, Jung - Hoseok,” you begin. “We typically serve Prey Shifters here. Is there a certain-”

“Excuse me.” Hoseok suddenly interrupts. “I’m well aware of what agency I applied with. You are the person I’m looking for, after all.” Hoseok is direct when he speaks, never faltering and not a stutter in sight.

A predator indeed.

“Y-Yes.” you nod your head. “I’m aware, but-”

“Money is no issue.” Hoseok speaks. He was pleading, his eyes staring right into your own. He swallows. “I…I prefer not to have predator Shifters for my heats.”

You didn’t realize your hands were gripping his paper work in your hand until it began to crinkle beneath your fingers.

“As you know we do not ask our customers certain questions due to confidentiality. However, you being a Predator Shifter, I must.”

Hoseok nods. “You’re asking what Shifter I am?”

You nod hesitantly. “I’m a deer.” you tell him, watching and waiting for his reaction.

Hoseok nods. “I can smell you.” he murmurs, voice low that it causes goosebumps to litter your skin - thank god you wore a long-sleeve shirt. Your head was ringing with alarm bells to get as far away from this man as possible.

“I-I can't smell you.” you try to smile but it appears more as a grimace. “If I may ask…”

Hoseok is hesitant, but he answers nonetheless. “A wolf.”

Hoseok can hear your heart increase by the second, pounding so loudly out your chest that he has to suppress a growl - something he does on instant rather than anything personal.

“You’re frightened.”

Terrified. “N-No-” he stuttered, shaking your head. You were lying to comfort him, but your sudden demeanor change told him everything he needed to know.

“Please.” Hoseok sighs out, utterly desperate. “I cannot handle other wolves or predators. They’re…” his nose curls. “...too dominant for me. They fight me.” he speaks, tone low. “You Prey are soft and sweet. Submissive.”

Now he looks like a creep, Hoseok thinks. Your eyes are wide and you want to run as far away as you can, but you’re a deer caught in headlights - literally.

“I-I-” you’re unsure what to tell Hoseok. You’re frightened, yes, but overall, you wanted to help him. He had come to you specifically - the reason you’re unsure - but he wanted help. It’s an unusual request. Not very many Predators come here and pay for Prey, but it isn’t uncommon for them to hookup outside of their heat cycles.

“I have a set price an hour…”

Hoseok licks his lips with anticipation. “Yes.” he nods hastily. “I would like to pay you more if you’d like.”

“That won’t be-”

“I want you to stay with me the entire week.”

Hoseok hears it again, your heartbeat racing.

“I’m not going to eat you, Y.N.” Hoseok says, his eyes flickering with something different, however. “It’s just…I…I need you there with me all the time.” he doesn’t elaborate further and you’re far too afraid that if he does, you’ll back out of the deal.

“I’ll need to see the place before your heat starts.” you slowly nod your head, placing his paperwork down. “Does tomorrow work for you? It’s for my safety.”

“Of course!” Hoseok nods. “Anything you need.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Well, for now we can sign paperwork.” you open a draw to your desk and grasp a black pen to sign your name on said documents. “If you’d like to take it home with you and read through it, you can.”

Hoseok nods his head and takes the documents in his hands. “Thank you.” he grins your way. “I’ll have them signed tomorrow.” he begins to stand, as do you. “Thank you for your time, Y/L-ssi.” he gives you his hand once more and you return the smile shyly.

“Y/N is fine, Hoseok.” you tell him, grabbing his hand to shake once more. You yelp when Hoseok lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it. His lips are soft, his dark eyes flickering up to look at you.

The drive to Hoseok home was a long one - understandably. He, after all, was a wolf shifter and like yourself, preferred to reside in a forestry area. The trees are high into the sky and the scent is natural. The area is quiet as you park your car, eyes roaming the large cabin in front of you. It’s at least four stories built with the finest wood with high ceilings windows. There’s multiple lights shining onto the porch that wraps around the entire cabin.

You can smell them - not Hoseok, but more wolves. The smell is intoxicating, filling your senses and having you stiff in your spot. You swallow, your deer screaming to run away - far, far away from here.

Your eyes widen when the door of the cabin opens suddenly and behind it is a tall man. His eyes are on you in an instant and you’re unable to move or look away.

“You must be…Y/N?” the man says, strolling towards you. His footsteps creek above the wooden stairs as he makes his way towards you. “You’re a doe…” the man sniffs the air, an obvious attempt to smell you.

“You're scaring her.”

Oh no.

Another wolf emerges from behind the door. He’s a little shorter and behind him, yet another one, as tall as the first one. They all surround you, tall and dominant.

“Your heart's beating so fast, little doe. We’re not going to eat you.” the second one laughs heartily. “My name is Jimin. Hobi told us a Prey was coming.”

“I’m Jungkook.” the third one says, circling around you for a better view. “You’re very brave. We don’t get a lot of doe’s around here.”

There’s a growl that has you cowering - as do the other three wolves. You’re now visibly trembling, arms wrapped around you. You knew that the three meant no harm - they appeared younger than you and overall playful. As a deer shifter, you were just naturally terrified of any predator and being on their territory didn’t make it easier for you.

“Go somewhere else.”

That was Hoseok’s voice speaking now and your eyes glance upwards from the ground to see him towering behind the three wolves.

“I am so sorry.” Hoseok’s voice lowers when the three men scurry off, both apologizing and snickering. “They mean no harm. They’re just…playful.” he sighs. If you turned him down now he wouldn’t be upset with you.

“I-It’s okay.” you curse at the stutter in your voice. “D-Do they live here?”

“Somewhat.” Hoseok nods. “This,” he mentions to the large cabin behind him. “is my home. They come and go. They have their own homes on the land we’re on now.”

Hoseok picks up on your unease - it was natural. You were in a wolf's den surrounded by them. As a prey, you were like a shiny new toy to them.

“Please come in.” Hoseok offers you his hand to take. “It’s completely safe. They would not be here when I’m in heat.”

You allow Hoseok to show you inside the large cabin. The scent is heavy of wolves and it causes you to stick besides Hoseok as he was the only familiar person you knew.

“I want to show you something.” Hoseok squeezes your hand encouragingly. “It’s where we’d be staying next week.”

You nod your head.

Hoseok ventures deeper into the cabin. It’s warm and would be inviting if you weren’t a Prey.

“I’ve been using suppressants to mask my scent but here,” Hoseok stops before a wooden door. “is where I can be myself. The scent will be…powerful.”

Powerful indeed. Upon opening the door, you’re hit with a scent so prudent. You’re stunned for a second, eyes widening.

“That’s…your scent?” you whisper out.

Hoseok lightly tugs you inside the room. It’s large and appears to be like a bedroom, a large bed in the middle of the room. Behind it, a large ceiling window showcasing beautiful scenery outside. To the right is a door slightly cracked, you assumed a bathroom. On the far left is a bookcase with a desk.

“This is my den.” Hoseok speaks, releasing your hand but remaining close. “Similar to a nest.”

Hoseok watches the way your eyes scan the room. He senses that his scent is overbearing to you, dominant. For the last few weeks he’s been scenting it to assure that it smelt like him; that he’d be comfortable in the room for his rut.

“I hope it isn’t too much.” Hoseok speaks after five minutes of you calming yourself down.

“No!” you shake your head, turning to him. “I know nesting is important to those in heat or ruts.” you tell him truthfully, having done so yourself.

Hoseok grins at your statement. “Yes.” he nods. “I was wondering…if I could have something of yours. To remain here.” he swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

You lick your lips as your body heats.

“If it’s too much-”

“No!” you interrupt. “I-I don’t mind.” you assure. You were here to help Hoseok soon and if this is what he wanted, then so be it. After all, he was a client paying top dollar for your services. “Is my jacket alright?”

Hoseok nods his head with a shrug. “Y-yeah.” his cheeks reddened.

You remove your jacket and hand it to Hoseok, body heated.

“I…” you lick your lips. “...can scent some more things in here. If it would make it better?”

Hoseok’s eyes widen a bit but he nods hastily. “Y-Yeah! You can.” he responds all too quickly. “Would you like something of mine? So you can become accustomed to it?” he offers.

You nod your head as well, encouraging grin on your lips. “Yes, that’ll be nice.”

For the last week you made sure to leave Hoseok’s scent on yours - and it caused stress amongst the other Prey’s at the office. Your assistant was the first to cower, not walking into your office due to fear - she was a rabbit shifter - and instead, called you from her own office opposite of yours. “The scent is that powerful? You recall asking her, surprised. “It’s only his shirt…”

Your own scent was covered in Hoseok’s and by the time it was for you to go to his home - coincidentally starting on Valentine’s Day - your scent was the acute one. However, it calmed you, as crazy as it sounded, because now you were accustomed to Hoseok’s scent. You’re thankful that you were able to ease your way into it instead of being overwhelmed like you were the week prior.

Like promised, you sensed no other wolves shifter in the area and you were thankful for that. Being around Hoseok was enough for you - you’re not sure if you could handle a whole pack of wolves sniffing around you.

Hoseok had sent you a message a few hours earlier telling you that the door was unlocked when you arrived, along with more messages. You’re appreciative that he offered to supply your food, stating that he has already filled his home with various fruits and vegetables to satiate your diet.

You clench your bag in your hand as you enter Hoseok’s home. It’s eerily silent and you wonder just what the man was doing. You don’t dwell, however, and instead make your way down the long, wooden hall to where his den was at.

You open the door to the den and find Hoseok inside. He’s asleep, sweat lining his forehead and he’s shirtless, the comforter only covering the bottom half of his body. You close the door behind you and exhale, placing your bag on the ground and making your way towards Hoseok.

You tilt your head to the side and snort. “You are kinda cute.” you murmur, placing a hand onto his forehead to wipe the sweat away.

It was the early stages of Hoseok’s head and he was only experiencing light chills and normal arousal - as the days led up, he would be utterly needy.

You dip down into the bed beside Hoseok, slowly to not wake him. You lay on your side and close your eyes. You’ll be here when Hoseok wakes up.

You’re unsure when you fell asleep and for how long, but the large window that once shined with natural light now only displays a full moon.

You moan sleepily when the sensation runs through you. Your hips are being gripped, sharp fingernails digging into your skin.

“You smell so good, little doe.”

Goosebumps gather onto your skin at the voice - deep, raspy and full of needy lust. Hoseok was awake, grinding into you from behind. His lips are pressing wet kisses to the skin behind your ear, a low growl mewling from his lips.

“Y-You’re awake.”

“I smelled you from my sleep.” Hoseok’s lips are now on your neck, inhaling your scent. His mouth is salivating. “‘wanna taste you, little doe. You’d let me, right?”

“Yes.” you nod weakly, whimpering.

“So good, little doe. So submissive like how I’d known you’d be.” Hoseok flips you onto your back and cages you beneath him. Your eyes meet the obvious bulge in his shorts. His hands tug at your clothing harshly, tearing the fabric apart without a care in the world.

You don’t respond, only gasp at the action - and it drives Hoseok’s wolf crazy. This is what he needed during a time like this; someone who wasn’t going to put up a fight against him. Someone who was going to submit to him like his wolf wanted; someone like you.

“Such soft, pretty skin.” Hoseok mewls, his tongue poking out and dragging along your bare skin. His tongue is so warm and slimy, but you’re overly aroused. “Scent so amazing and tempting, little doe.”

A strangled moan releases from your lips when Hoseok’s tongue dips down between your breast and slides past your stomach. He pries your legs open and growls, eyes completely dark with lust. He inhales your arousal and doesn’t hesitate to dive right in. His tongue laps between your folds hungrily, nails digging into your soft thighs.

Your back arches, legs widening. This was your first time with a Predator, with someone so dominant. Prey’s weren’t quite vanilla as one thought, sure, but a wolf was different.

“H-Hoseok, please.” your hand tugs at his hair, unable to take anymore pleasure. Your eyes flutter open to look between your legs - a mistake. Hoseok was already looking at you, dark eyes zoning into your own. It causes you to freeze, unable to look away from him. Your arousal leaks over his tongue and his lips and like a man starved, he licks it all up.

“Little doe,” Hoseok growls, a trail of saliva dropping right onto your clit. “so sweet and all for me.”

You don’t get to talk, Hoseok is faster than you. Two, long fingers enter you swiftly - deeply. He pumps with vigor, determined to coat himself completely in your sweet arousal. Your pussy is tight around his fingers, squeezing and squelching for more.

“Does it feel good, little doe?” Hoseok questions rhetorically. You’re a moaning mess who’s coating his fingers with sweet honey, of course it felt good.

But, Hoseok was a wolf. He was dominant and confident - he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-Ye-”

Hoseom bites your inner thigh, teeth sinking into your skin.

“Y-Yes!” you screech, jerking. Your hands find your naked breast, eyes continuing to flutter with pure pleasure.

Hoseok’s fingers were scraping against your walls, hitting your sweet spot with each pump. His teeth grazes past your skin, lips pressing a firm kiss to your clit. His stamina is immaculate but what did you truly expect from a wolf?

Hoseok likes to watch your face as he pleasures you - his tongue flickering against the swollen bud as his fingers ram so deep inside of you that you’re screeching out in ecstasy. He loves to watch the way your eyebrows would scrunch together and the way you would gasp so loudly. His lips and chin are coated in your essence but he does nothing but savor the sweet, submissive taste that he has desperately longed for all week.

Hoseok’s calloused hand slams against your thigh harshly just as he feels it begin to close in on him. His eyes are furious at the audacity that you’d attempt to stop him from devouring you. He forces you against his tongue, two fingers never ceasing their movement. The noises he made we just as lewd as yours; slurping as if it’s a five course meal; and to him, it is.

“So ready to be full of me.” Hoseok groans against your clit, his eyes zoning in on the way your pussy squeezes his fingers, juices sliding down the palms of his hand and hitting his wrist. “Need to prep you first, little doe, before I take what’s mine.”

You weren’t sure you could handle Hoseok fucking you - you were overstimulated now. Tears brim your eyes with the amount of pleasure, and now with the way he spoke to you with such a sultry voice - you weren’t going to leave here alone, surely.

Talking was a bit difficult, but it was evident Hoseok wanted you to speak to him - to show him just how submissive you were. You nod your head and murmur a soft “please” and it’s all Hoseok needs to truly make you cum. Your thighs shake in his grasp and your moans grow higher and higher. They bounce off of the walls of his den and your body begins to shake rapidly beneath him.

Hoseok encourages you to grind against his tongue, to take him just as much as he was taking you, but as of right now you couldn’t - and that was alright with him. You were going through your own high, your senses clouded in Hoseok; his scent looming over you dominantly and all you could do was lay against the soft bed as you cum the hardest you’ve ever had.

Hoseok wish he could have a picture of you like this - maybe even a painting in his den. Just for his eyes only to witness the beauty that was you, naked and covered in your own arousal and sweat and fully submitted to him. It’s a sight he would forever keep in his thoughts.

You’re panting, slightly trembling with overstimulation.

You bring out something in Hoseok - similar to a hunger that could never be satiated. If he could have you on his tongue for hours, he would. The bulge in his underwear is tight and screaming at him to let it be free.

“Little doe,” you hear Hoseok call you, calloused fingers grasping your jaw to look at him. “even as you lay here trembling, your pussy longs to be filled, doesn’t it? I see you clenching around nothing, wishing it was me.”

You moan faintly, nodding your head. Even if you came as hard as you did, you in fact did want Hoseok to fuck you. The idea frightened your deer - you never had wolf and you’re sure he’s never had deer either. But the thought excites you just as you know it excites him.

You, weakly, sit up, eyes blinking innocently at Hoseok. He watches you, unmoving, as your hands settle at his own hips. “Wanna taste you now.” you murmur at him, lashes blinking upwards at him.

Hoseok growls, a deep rumble coming from his chest that startles you. You watch him with wide eyes and wait for him to speak.

“I want to see your sweet lips around me, little doe.” Hoseok allows your hands to dip beneath his shorts. For a moment you’re stuck when you in fact tough his clothed cock. It twitches when it comes in contact with you, an obvious need to be touched.

You gulp when you actually do see it in front of you. It’s large and veiny, the tip leaking with pre-cum and even if it does appear threatening at it’s large size (larger due to the rut and the need to breed), you’re mouth salivates to suck it.

Hoseok stiffens with your tongue licks up his slit, coating your warm tongue with the precum. Your hand wraps around the base and you waste no time in circling your tongue around the tip.

Such warmth and pleasure drives Hoseok crazy and he doesn’t hide his moans or grunts. He’s unmoving, unblinking as he watches you take him into your mouth, deeper and deeper.

You’re positive that you’d come to regret doing this - but you were full of arousal and lust for the man and needed everything he had to offer. You begin to suck onto his cock as if your life depended on it. The tip hits the back of your throat and your eyes water, but it would be a lie to say that you weren’t aroused.

“Such a slutty doe you are.” Hoseok hisses, the filthy sight of you makes him want more. “So frightened by me but still want to be stuff full.”

Hoseok yanks your hair roughly and instantly, you submit - just how he wanted. He begins to thrust inside of you, taking your mouth as his own. He hits the back of your throat with each thrust, a strangle moan meeting him when he gets there. Your thighs clenched together for friction and your pussy does the same, wishing it was this very cock ramming inside of you.

Hoseok's throat growls once more - so beautiful, he thinks. Tears streaming down your eyes and coating your puffy cheeks as he buries his cock deep in your throat. “When I look at you, I can see a sweet little doe in those eyes…” Hoseok was going to cum, never truly meaning to last long. But during his rut, he could cum so many times and still be hard within seconds, so did it truly matter? “...but then I look deeper into these eyes, and I see that devilious side to you.”

You moan, vibrating against his shaft. Hoseok thrusts deeper and deeper until you feel the salty substance reach your tongue. It’s warm and overpowering, but you’re forced to take it all - and never once do you complain or protest.

Hoseok yanks you off of his cock with a pop, saliva and cum dripping down the sides of your lips. Hoseok forces his own lips - so soft, you think - against yours in a needy, dominant kiss.

“Your pussy is calling for me, little doe. Begging to be stuffed with my knot.”

“P-Please…” you murmur weakly, full of need.

Hoseok snarls and within seconds, he flips you onto your front. He forces your legs apart and once more, snarls at just the visual in front of him; a wolf’s dream.

You yelp when you feel a harsh slap onto your ass, stinging. One hand slams against your back to remain firmly against the bed while the other digs its nails onto your waist.

“Gonna fuck you full of my pups, little doe. Breed you just nice.” Hoseok grumbles, speaking more to himself, but you hear every word and damn did it sound nice.

Hoseok centers himself at your entrance, a grunt releasing from his throat. He rubs the tip between your sweet folds and then sighs shakily at how heavenly you feel.

“My sweet little doe…such a slutty body you have.” Hoseok begins to enter you, your walls completely heavenly; so tight, wet and serene.

Hoseok gasps fully when he’s inside of you completely. You do the same, a small sense of discomfort at the size of Hoseok, but you felt amazingly stuff as you had been wanting to.

Hoseok isn’t able to control himself and you’re glad that you prepared for such. He begins to pound into you with such need; deep and fast. His abdomen slams against your ass as he tries to go deeper with each thrust.

You cry out in pleasure and discomfort - it was going to take getting used to getting fucked by someone as dominant as him. But even your moans were that of pure desire, legs widening a bit more just to have in you deeper.

Your pussy is pulsating, Hoseok notes, and it drips all over his bed. He doesn’t stop his assault, unable to. Your moans give him the fuel to continue on, such sweet and submissive moans and wolf needs to hear when claiming what was theirs.

By the time Hoseok was done with you, you were going to be bruised with finger and hand marks. Hoseok grips onto your skin so tightly, but there’s no complaints your way. “Such a sweet pussy taking a wolf so well. A prey could never satisfy you like this, little doe.”

Hoseok wants to hear you say it. A hand claws at your throat and he pushes you back against his bare chest. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts. “Say it, little doe. After I’m done here with you, your pussy would only ever want a predator.”

Your hands find his thigh, muscle flexing when you do. It’s a small sign of resistance and that’s something Hoseok didn’t like.

“Stop trying to run, doe. I already got my hands on you, you aren’t going anywhere.”

You came at the words, so hard that you began to shake. Your arousal leaks down your thighs, but Hoseok was nowhere near done with you. He now has the desire to see your face as he fucks you and turns you around fully before him like a ragdoll. Both hands snake beneath your thighs as he enters you, thrusting just as powerful as before.

Your face contorts with pleasure, eyes widening just to snap shut and moans pooling out your sweet lips.

“Pretty little thing,” Hoseok presses open mouth kisses against your face. His bed rocks and shakes vigorously, hitting against the tall window. “all mine to breed. You’d want that, wouldn’t you? To be bred by a wolf.” Hoseok spits, teeth clasping down at delicate skin.

“Y-Yes!” you cry, arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring him close. Your lips find his, both tongues devouring the other. You’ve dealt with many ruts and heats, but this one was far more intimate. Hoseok was a talkative person and it was difficult to not submit to the man.

Hoseok snarls. “Gonna give you all my pups, little doe. Get you nice and round just for me and me only.”

There was something about being predators and their need to breed that now has you wishing he’d do just that. It was the sex speaking to you - and his rut speaking to him - but all you could think about was being so full of his cum that breeding a few of his pups didn’t scare you.

Jung Hoseok was a dangerous man.

“Want your knot.” you screech, your fingernails clawing at his back for him to give you what you wanted. “Want your pups.”

Hoseok was going crazy - his wolf was screaming at him to take you fully, bite that spot on your neck and take you as his; then you’d truly would be having his pups like your fucked out self wanted. But his sane part manages to hold himself back from his wolf claiming you.

“Gonna cum in you.” Hoseok grumbles, pushing you back against the bed and fucking right into you. His cock is so enlarged due to his rut and the knot in his system. A small bulge is seen in your stomach with each thrust and Hoseok had one goal in mind.

You’re unable to speak as Hoseok presses your knees to your shoulders and pounds sloppily in you. His eyes are watching you, unmoving and not blinking. There’s a growl that reaches your ears when Hoseok comes closer. He’s dangerously close to your neck, teeth blaring. Your heart skips a beat, frightened with the sounds his wolf is making and your deer wants to run for its life from the predator.

“Gonna make you mine, little doe.” Hoseok’s voice is deeper than before, his breath tickling your skin. “Only mine to fuck pups into.”

You’re far too consumed in cumming for a third time that you don’t notice the meaning of his words until his teeth are biting the soft, delicate skin of your neck. You scream out in pain, pussy clenching around his cock just as he’s cumming. His cock swells inside of you, his knot pooling deep inside to do what it’s intending on doing.

You remain completely still and silent, your high and submissive nature not allowing you to protest, even if the pressure was becoming unbearable. Hoseok holds you close, his throat growling lowly, tongue twirling on the mark he has left freshly on your skin. When his high dies down, he’s positive he’s going to be in a world of trouble for marking you as his own - and the pain his wolf is going to feel if you reject him.

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Sorry for sending requests back to back lol, I keep having my brain work and it's crazy:

UR RECENT SIRIUS FIC GAVE ME AND IDEA! imagine poly!marauders where both reader and sirius speak french? And maybe reader uses it more when she sleepy (that's usually when I speak french), so she's just sleepily gushing to sirius abt him and james and remus and HOW MUCH SHE FUCKING LOVES THEM AND HOW PERFECT THEY ARE AND SHIT??? Omfggg

Sincerely, :]

Omg yes, thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 719 words

“You’re all too nice to me,” you mumble as Sirius pulls your hair back into a loose bun, James washing your face with a moist cloth. “I love you guys. Not just for this, though. I love you in general.”

Sirius’ lips curve as he watches bemusement find its way into James’ expression. He wonders if your decision to make your lovey-dovey declarations in French was even a conscious one, or if you’ve just defaulted to it as you sometimes do when you’re this sleepy. He decides to answer you in it regardless. “I love you in general, too, my sweetheart. And we’re not even as nice as you deserve.”

“I don’t like it when they do this,” James says to Remus, even as he dries your face with a loving hand. “It’s exclusionary.”

“They don’t get it,” you lament to Sirius, catching his smirk in the mirror. “It’s so much nicer when you’re lazy. The words just flow.”

“I don’t know,” Remus answers James, spitting toothpaste into the sink. “It’s kind of hot.”

Sirius’ heartbeat picks up frighteningly quickly, but his grin is wicked as he leans his head on your shoulder. “Did you hear that, my love?” he asks, not bothering to whisper since no one but you can understand. “Remus Lupin thinks we’re hot.”

“Even when they say your name?” James asks, gesturing to Sirius as if to emphasize his point.

Remus gives Sirius a lingering look. It takes everything in him not to collapse onto the floor. Sirius looks down, breaking Remus’ stare, just to make sure he is indeed still wearing pants. “Especially then.”

“But they could be saying anything!”

“He’s so pretty,” you say breathily, gazing at Remus. His brows raise at your devoted attention, a twinkle of amusement lighting his amber eyes. Your gaze slides to James, looking at you with suspicion. “They both are.” You turn your eyes last to Sirius, and it’s a different look than the one he’d just received from Remus, but it melts him just the same. “You all are. And all so good, and funny, and smart. I can’t believe my luck.”

Sirius chuckles, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “Me neither. Do you think they know?”

You hum, leaning back and letting him support some of your weight. He takes it happily. It’s going to be one of those nights where you’re asleep before the rest of them have even made it to bed, he can tell. “Not well enough.”

“Cease looking at me like that this instant,” James demands. “Moony, why do they look like they want to eat us?”

“Doesn’t sound like such an awful idea,” you say through a yawn, pulling out of Sirius’ arms to move towards the bed.

He follows you. “True,” he says, casting a charged look back at his boyfriends. “I could probably gnaw on a bicep, now that you mention it.”

“It’s kind of nice that not everyone can understand,” you observe drowsily as you slip under the covers. “Makes it easier to say what we mean.”

Sirius laughs. “Of course these are your darkest, most secret thoughts, you softie.” He sits down on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from your lovely face. “If you couldn’t understand me, I’d be saying much filthier stuff.” He cocks his head. “Actually, you don’t know what braquemard means, do you?”

Your eyebrows cinch, and there’s a gasp from the bathroom a moment before James comes barreling into the room.

“I heard something!” He exclaims. Sirius smirks up at him from his place on the bed. “That brack-whatever—it’s dirty, I think. I’ve heard him use it before.” You snicker into your pillow, and James looks at you in horror. “Angel, what’s he roped you into? Is he corrupting you while we can’t protect you?”

“Interesting,” Remus hums, moving slowly towards the bed. He approaches Sirius, nudging the other boy’s legs apart and fitting himself between them. Sirius’ heart pounds against his rib cage as Remus tilts his head up, fingers curled lightly around his jaw. “Gonna tell us what you’ve got to say, pretty boy?”

Sirius takes a shuddering inhale, static filling his head as Remus strokes idly at his face.

You make an amused harrumphing sound, and speak in English so everyone can hear. “Softie.”

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justhereforthemeta · 8 months

Text

Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight

Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)

This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!

On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.

@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.

Continued below the cut...

Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.

Shax: “You’re in trouble”

A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.

And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.

There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.

1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).

Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:

Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:

And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.

There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball.

Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.

Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.

For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.

So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.

Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.

But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.

Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché.

Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery.

And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.

In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.

My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:

is actually this:

Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967:

whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:

…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:

That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once.

Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat.

Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).

Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.

Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution.

Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.

‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!?

I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.

(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)

When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.

From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.

This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.

In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.

Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save.

“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”

#so honestly #I think the biggest mark against this conclusion is that Crowley sees his mirror Maggie taking a nap at the end of S2E6 #there is a strong chance of a depression nap before any further spying gets underway #but I am counting on Muriel to be a dorky ray of sunshine and snap him out of it with Clues #good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley in a turtleneck #demon bookseller plantdad spy

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rizsu · 6 months

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barely delusional megumi, itadori, nanami.

-> tokyo revengers & haikyuu version

megumi fushiguro.

life as megumi is simple. he is simple. his routine never over-complicates itself nor will he allow it to do so. on top of that, he will always be sure to attend every plan he agreed upon — well, all except for one. you see, the prior plan before the plan with itadori and nobara had slipped his mind. it's only when he checked his phone for the time is when he remembered.

the trio planned for an evening-to-night hangout session. first, dinner. dinner is important. second, an arcade session. third, amusement park. a well-thought plan that can finally make its way out of being just a "plan." kind of.

"hey, are we still on for the arcade later?" itadori asks, licking the drips of his popsicle on his forearm.

megumi opens his mouth only to close it back. he takes a popsicle from the bag, busying himself with the snack, he replies, "can't, i promised my girlfriend i'll sleep over tonight."

silence. it's a sudden moment of silence. the kind of silence before something goes south.

one, two, three...

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!?"

"YOU PROMISED YOUR WHO?!"

both itadori and nobara voice their astonishment in unison. it's not every day you hear megumi speak about anything bordering romance. megumi, on the other hand, doesn't answer. his full attention is on his popsicle. indeed, he does feel the two pairs of eyes on him but will he respond to their shock? yes, actually.

"i said what i said," he shrugs, not understanding why it's so shocking.

nobara's jaw hangs loose. her popsicle already puddled on the ground. slowly, she regains her mind and forms a sentence, "you — you're not lying, right? is this megumi? FUSHIGURO megumi?"

itadori nods behind her, showing his support for her actions. megumi rolls his eyes, clearly he doesn't like the way they think he's a loser.

"yeah, yeah. when do i ever lie?"

"oh, you're right," defeated, nobara agrees. there's not a single memory in her mind where megumi lied.

itadori yuuji.

he's bent over gasping for his life. a few seconds ago, itadori ran three floors down the school just for a question. it's an important question and they — gojo and utahime — will answer.

"guys, what do you do when you want to buy someone a gift but that someone is your girlfriend but you're not sure if she'll like it but—"

gojo drops his self-made paper plane, turns his head to the boy and begins, "pause right there yuuji. repeat that again."

slightly confused, itadori repeats himself from the beginning, "what do you do when you—"

yet again, gojo cuts him off, "NOT that part. the one after."

confused, he repeats again, "but that someone is your girlfriend but—"

gojo claps his hands together, sitting up straight and pointing a finger directly at itadori. "THERE — THAT PART."

utahime rubs her forehead, trying to calm down an incoming headache at the elder's childish behaviour. she sighs loudly, shooting a glare at gojo before turning to itadori with a small smile. "what gift do you have in mind?"

itadori, not remembering the gifts he had in mind, starts counting on his fingers. he knows he thought of roughly five gifts, but the question is what were the five gifts.

"uh, i think i had a five-hundred-dollar gift card in mind? don't remember the price but it's for makeup, skincare, and all that stuff!!" he replies, scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

"that's a bit expensive. are you sure you'd want to buy it? if it comes from you i'm sure she'll love it either way," utahime attempts to comfort him. she's a tad bit concerned at the price but hey, love is priceless.

"mhm! it's our anniversary soon, too," itadori nods, feeling his nerves calm a little.

gojo, however, needs to put his input or he'll go crazy. slapping both palms on his thigh, he changes the tone of his voice to a serious one, "son, let me introduce you on the top ten ways to make a woman happy with money."

"gojo, no. don't."

nanami kento.

a true businessman has now ended his working hours. at 7:30 p.m on the dot, he's now in his office preparing himself for his activities at 8:00 p.m. unknown to him, a little pesky fly slides himself into his office. obnoxiously chewing on some lays chips, gojo questions nanami's new attire, "you look oddly handsome, nanami. you got a date?"

refusing to meet eye-to-eye with gojo, he responds to him, "i do, actually. with my woman." turning around, he still avoids eye contact with gojo. rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, nanami walks to his desk, searching for his wristwatch.

once content with his attire, nanami finally looks at gojo. his visual makes a vein pop out on nanami's forehead. crumbs all over his fingers, hair scattered everywhere, mismatching indoor shoes — just irritating.

"if you excuse me, gojo, i have somewhere to be. exit yourself," gesturing to the door, nanami expects gojo to leave and so he does. just one step away from being out of nanami's office, gojo turns around. something's off.

"yeah yeah, go on with your woman — wait," he begins, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "you have a woman? like, seriously?"

paying no heed to the fly, nanami makes his way to phone you a call. once you answered, he brings the phone to his ear, "i'll be there to pick you up in ten-minutes, okay? ... yeah, i love you too."

"NO WAY," louder than sirens, gojo gasps at the confession and return of love. his once-crumbled fingers now cover his mouth.

nanami, already annoyed by his presence, puts his finger on his lip, motioning to gojo that he needs to shut up.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader

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lydiimae · 1 month

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Jealousy

A.N: OMG I am finally starting this blog. I am so so excited. This is a Benedict Bridgerton fic ofc. The true loml. I'm still debating if I will write only Bridgerton orrrrrr others? I dunno... but for now, here is a lovely, smutty, cutie, Ben fic hehe <3

Warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drinking, dirty talk, heavy praise, talk of public heavy petting ;)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Minors DNI!! 18+

He sighs from beside Eloise, shifting on the picnic blanket for what has to be the millionth time. "Brother, you worry too much about that woman." She mutters with an amused glint in her eye, taking a bite of one of the strawberry tarts the family maids had made for the occasion.

A family picnic was not a rarity during the social season, especially for the Bridgerton's. What was a rarity is that Benedict had invited a woman along, an incredibly important woman at that. Y/N L/N, a daughter of an influential Viscount. The woman he found himself to be head over heels in love with.

"I am not worried. I am merely observing so our brother does not make a fool of himself in front of her." He replies with a huff, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.

You were merely speaking with his brother. His happily married older brother. He has no reason to be jealous, really, but something in him still tugs painfully at the sight of you speaking to another man. It is only when Kate comes to steal her husband away that you scootch back over to him, a bright smile on your face.

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You move back over to Benedict and look up at his cute pouty expression, smiling at the warmth that blooms in your chest as a result.

You wished to get to know his family before the inevitable happens. Marriage. You know, as well as he does, that you were both going to tie the knot as soon as it was acceptable to do so. You also know that he would scoop you up and marry you tomorrow if he had his way.

At the very first ball of the season, Lady Danbury insisted that she had someone for you to meet. Someone who enjoyed painting just as much as you did. So, she took your arm and led you away from your father to the Bridgerton family. You were confused, at first, when the already happily married Viscount, Anthony, turned to greet you. And then, as if the sea was parting, he appeared. A crooked grin on his face as he moved to see you. Benedict Bridgerton, although he is a second son, stole your heart as soon as you saw him.

From then on you waited with bated breath for every dance you would share, dreamt of him in your bedroom when you got home, and thought of nothing but him in between. You shared stolen glances at every event and even snuck off to any hidden corner or garden you could find for breathless kisses and entirely impolite words that sent your mind into a whirlwind you could not explain.

Soon enough, he started inviting you on promanades and even sooner he wished for you to dine with his family. Get to know his life outside of the stuffy ballroom, to which you found yourself falling even deeper in love than you could've ever imagined.

"You're pouting, Ben." You hum, taking a sip of your lemonade with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Indeed. Perhaps if you were not so caught up with my brother I would not have a reason to pout, hm?" He returns, moving to take another sip from his flask.

He was jealous? Of his married brother? You sigh and move your hand over his, shaking your head slightly. You hand him a glass of lemonade. If he truly is jealous, the last thing he needs is whiskey.

"If you truly wish to hear what we were talking about, I shall tell you." You return as he takes a sip of the lemonade you gave him. He moves his hand over yours, just out of sight of his family. A possessive gesture that makes your heart flutter.

"Yes, in fact, do enlighten me." He grumbles with a sigh. "His wife, Benedict. He was talking about his lovely wife, which if you have forgotten, happens to be my dear friend." You sigh, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He looks over at you, his green eyes sweeping down to your lips, then your chest, before finally looking back up. "I care not of what you were speaking about, I should like you to speak with me when it is I who invited you." He practically growls, the tone of his voice making the place between your legs heat up and dampen instantly. A feeling that only happened with him, something he had explained as both desire and arousal.

"You know that I-" You begin, but are cut off by him pulling you to your feet. The glasses of lemonade are now completely forgotten. "Mother, I should like to promenade with Lady Y/N." He fibs.

What he would really like to do is rip the skirt of your dress open, spread your legs wide, and plunge his cock so deep inside of your soaked cunt that you forget everything else. He wants to paint your insides with his seed right here, in front of the whole ton, so that every man can get a glimpse of who you truly belong to.

"Of course, dear. We shall not keep you." Violet replies with a smile before delving back into conversation with Eloise, who also looks up with a confused expression but quickly rolls her eyes and continues to speak to her mother.

You shoot him a questioning look to which he just raises an eyebrow and offers his arm. You take it and he begins to lead you away from the picnic canopies that many families have set up to dine under.

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"Where are we going?" You question after a moment, realizing that you are not following the path around the lake but rather the path to the carriages.

He stops and tugs you behind a tree, pushing you up against the trunk. The bark bites into the little exposed skin the back of your dress grants you and your cunt flutters when you see his expression.

Desire is different for men, he taught you. You can see it in the way his trousers tighten at the front and in the way his eyes haze over. His hands move to your waist and he bends down, pressing kisses all the way up your neck until he reaches your ear.

"Agree to marry me and I shall show you." He whispers, biting the soft flesh beneath your ear causing you to shiver and whine. He grins and licks over the tender skin, soothing the sting.

"You already know very well that I would say yes to any proposal you give me." You breathe, leaning your head back as your eyes flutter shut. His hand skates over your stomach, running up the smooth fabric of your dress until he meets your breast. He cups one and swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple through the fabric.

He pulls away, swiping the saliva off his bottom lip with his thumb before picking you up. You squeal and he chuckles, paying the driver of his carriage off before tucking you inside. He closes the door and the curtains on the window, darkness enclosing the both of you.

"Benedict." You whisper as he lays you back on the velvety bench. "Hush, my love. I shall not do anything before asking I swear it." The title makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. He dips down once more, pressing his lips to yours briefly.

You pull him back down before he gets very far, chasing one of those open-mouthed kisses he gave you at the last ball. He groans, his tongue swiping over yours. He grins over your lips at the sound that escapes, moving his hands to yours where they rest on his chest before breaking the kiss.

"Ben please." You whine, wanting him to continue so desperately. He only smiles, taking off your gloves. "You must have patience, my sweet girl. I am going to ravish you in due time." He assures, pressing soft kisses from your palm all the way up to your shoulder as he takes off his gloves as well.

He reaches your neck, to which he takes a deep breath. Taking in your scent of lavender and citrus, making him groan as it always does. "Do you remember when I taught you to ride my thigh?" He whispers, running his tongue down to your collarbone, nipping the skin.

The memory makes you flood your underwear. You remember well, how could you not? He had lead you to the garden at one of Lady Danbury's balls and sat you down on his lap on the edge of the fountain. He hiked up your skirt and led your hips back and forth until something inside of you snapped so hard you saw stars and stained his trousers. That is where he taught you about his arousal, about yours.

"Yes." You breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moves under your skirt. His slender fingers skating teasingly up your thigh. "Good girl." He praises. He cups your cunt without warning and you cry out, your hips canting.

"Fuck. You are absolutely drenched." He whispers, relishing in the moans he draws from your body just from keeping a hand over your cunt. "And I told you about sex, do you remember that darling?" He murmurs, watching your eyes flutter.

He slowly pushes your skirt up so he can slide off your panties. He tucks them into his pocket, smiling to himself. "Yesss." You moan as the air hits your bare sex. "You told me it happens when we get married." You whisper between whines as his hand comes back, his fingers curling into your pubic hair.

"Such a good listener. So good for me." He praises, sliding two of his fingers along your drenched slit before finding your clit with expert touch. He rubs a slow circle on your button and you moan loudly, throwing your head back. "Now, when a man has honor he waits to take a woman's innocence. But my honor disappeared when I saw you with my brother," You try and protest but he pinches your clit and you cry out before you can get so much as a whisper out.

"So I will take you now. In this damn carriage." He growls, moving his free hand to your hips to hold you down. You whine when his fingers move down. "Fuck you are perfect," He breathes. "I'm going to slide one of my fingers inside now, darling, alright?" He murmurs, the switch from possessive to sweet sending your mind reeling. So overwhelmed, so mindless Just how he likes you.

You nod tentatively, your heart rate spiking which he picks up on. He shifts so he is over you, and kisses the crown of your head. "I'll go slow, hm? Nice and slow. All you need to do is pat my arm twice and I'll stop." He assures, calming your heart. You nod and nuzzle his neck.

He slowly plunges a long finger into your weeping cunt and you whine at the invasion. "Good girl, fuck you are so tight." You gasp and writhe as he curls his finger, the feeling sending a shock straight to your clit. He slowly adds another finger and you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back.

"Ben... so good. Feels...." You cry out when his fingers curl into a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. He grins and begins to rock his fingers, drawing heavenly noises from your soaked cunt. The carriage filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.

He licks a stripe up your neck, beginning to suck as he rocks his fingers. You curl a hand in his thick curls and tug, your hips desperately trying to move against the palm of his hand.

He kisses your jaw, and then your chin, before finally capturing your lips. His tongue immediately sliding past your swollen lips and tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, moving clockwise as he rocks his fingers into your body.

He breaks the kiss and pulls out his fingers, much to your dismay, before unbuttoning his trousers. "Benedict... why did you stop? It felt so very nice..." You whine, grinding on nothing to try and gain some sort of feeling.

He groans at the sight, bending down and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "My harlot of a fiancee. So needy for something she does not even know the half of." He praises as he slowly frees his cock, the sight along with his filthy words making you gasp.

He pulls back and strokes himself with the help of your delicious wetness, before looking back at your sweet face. All flushed and wide-eyed. He moves his free hand to your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

"It will not fit, Benny." You whisper, suddenly frightened. His eyes soften and he moves down pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "It will, my love. We will go slow, I promise. Remember what I told you, two pats on my arm and we will stop." He hums, peppering your face with kisses which causes you to giggle and calm a bit. "Perhaps one pat for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs with a smile, pulling back. You nod.

"Good girl." He hums. He leans in and runs his length through your soaked folds drawing moans from the both of you. "Fuck. God, I love you." He grunts and you smile, draping your arms over your eyes to cover your blush. "I love you too, Benedict." You whisper back.

He slowly pushes into your body, throwing his head back at how tight your pretty pussy is. You cry out at the invasion, your hands shooting down to grasp at the edges of the carriage bench. The feeling is a strange mix of pain and something different. A tart taste on your tongue paired with a tingly feeling in your already hot womb. "Fucking hell." He groans before tucking his face in the crook of your neck, stopping halfway so you can adjust.

You whine and wrap your arms around his neck after a moment. "P-Please..... more. I need more, Benedict." You gasp after the pain subsides. God, he almost comes right there. He wants you like this all the time, mindless for his cock. Begging him to fuck you.

"Good fucking girl, Y/N." He grunts before bottoming out inside of you. You moan and toss your head back into the seat cushion and he groans at the feeling. "You feel so good, my love. So ripe, so wet. God, so very tight just for me." He praises.

He begins to move slowly, the slap of thighs meeting thighs filling the carriage. The feeling is so foreign but fuck you never want it to stop. Moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he speeds up. The noises he is drawing from your body would embarrass you if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. You wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.

"Benedict." You moan and he stalls, gritting his teeth. "Never ever stop moaning my name, you vixen. God, I am a lucky man. The luckiest man in the world." He praises you as he begins to slam into you.

You grip his coat so hard you are surprised the velvety fabric hasn't torn. You cry out when his thumb finds your clit, the feeling sending you up to the clouds. "Come for me, my love." He grunts from above you with a slight slap on your thigh. That sends you over, your vision going white as you scream his name.

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and pumping himself. He releases with a groan onto your stocking-covered thigh before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he lifts his head to look at you, brushing your fallen hair out of your face. You smile, almost drunkenly, as you look at him. "That was heavenly." You whisper and he smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Just wait until we are married. I cannot wait to fill you with my seed and see you plump with my child." He murmurs. resting his head back on your shoulder. Your hand absentmindedly finds his hair, running through his messy curls.

"We have to go back." You whisper to which he shakes his head. "Not yet. I paid off the driver. We have as much time to rest as we wish, dearest." He hums, his eyes closed. You grin and close yours as well, slowly dozing off with him.

You are the luckiest woman in the world.

#benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #fanfic #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fic #smut #fem reader #imagine #x reader #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #fic #benedict bridgerton fic

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