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vagabond-umlaut · 7 months

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l'heure bleue

Ferocious, fearsome, infallible. The King Of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, has never fought a war he hasn't won.

But, does that mean he'll taste success in this battle of beliefs, raging against no one but his Queen, as well?

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; sooo much of tooth-rotting! domestic fluff between sukuna & reader; sukuna is so exhausted, still so fond of his dear wife; said wife is not too soft towards her husband [she has valid reasons, dw]; talks on death; indirect talk on periods & pregnancy; 0% ANGST IN THIS– ONLY FLUFFY HUMOR; spoiler alert— would-be-dad!sukuna x would-be-mom!reader

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"I'm dying. Very soon."

While not the deep kiss you've always welcomed him with, into your chambers, every night of your married life— Sukuna reckons, he will take this many many times over the tense hush you've been offering him these days.

Shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders, the King of Curses walks over to where you're on the bed and frowns, fingers moving to thread through your unkempt hair, then run down the side of your face. Your eyes flutter close for a beat– undoubtedly, from the gentle caress, he surmises– before they grow wide open, blinking with tears of fear.

Rubbing the pad of his thumb over your wobbling lower lip, your lover sighs, knowing full well where this conversation might be going– still, as always, he decides to humor your concerns with an ask of his own.

"Did my Queen visit the royal physician, along with Uraume today?"

"No," you shake your head meekly, "I did not visit the physician. I was resting in our room the entire day."

"If you weren't feeling well, you could have asked her to visit you here, right?" your husband queries, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. Snuggling into him with a soft hum, you send a miserable look his way— eliciting something eerily similar to the emotions, your husband knows, no curse like him should ever be able to feel.

Yet here he is, feeling every one of those, with his wife in his grasp.

You shake your head a second time; however, with greater force than before. "No. I knew I would be dying soon but I did not want to hear it from her. I wanted you to tell me that awful news, my king. I love you, I wanted you to say it. To confirm it."

You love him, so he must confirm your imminent death!?!?— Stunned by your odd words of reasoning, Sukuna gapes at you, dumbfounded; before he shakes himself free of the shock, discerning you to be three words, or even less, away from dissolving into your pathetic wails.

He smooths the top of your head with a palm, whilst another palm of his squeezes your hip, hoping the action will bring you some comfort. You place a small palm over the latter, voice growing shaky when you say, "Won't you confirm the terrible news, my lord?"

"No," Sukuna's quick to deny you in an instant, "Because I firmly don't believe you're anywhere close to dying. You're as healthy as a horse— or whatever idiotic creature, you humans use in your idiotic idioms."

A facsimile of a smile threatens to erupt onto your lips— it is vanished before the next second— with you crumbling into a mess of tears and snot, face pressed into his chest, whilst your fingers dig into his back.

Sukuna stifles a weary sigh, before wrapping his arms gingerly round your midsection, taking extra care not to jostle you or anything. "You aren't dying anytime soon, my Queen," he struggles to coo, but ends up grumbling, "I won't let you ever leave my side– you stupid woman. You're stuck with me forever– don't I always tell you that, my Queen?"

"You do, Sukuna," you mumble, with a weak nod of your head, "But I do feel so close to dying every moment of the day— so weak and so dizzy and so nauseous– even you've become so careful with me, my king!" you exclaim, red-rimmed swollen eyes glaring accusingly into every ruby eye of his.

Filling him with an addicting thrilling delight he has never felt before.

"You've always been so rough with me— Now, when you're being so gentle with me, out of nowhere, tell me: must the implication of you thinking me to be fragile, along with those awful symptoms– not be worrisome? Must I not think, you consider me to be near my death– hence, this newfound wariness? Hence, you, and even Uraume, who has always been so free to speak their mind before me– the both of you walking on stupid fucking eggshells around me– tell me, 'Kuna!"

A silence punctuates your outburst, filled only by the sounds of your noisy breathing– the latter replacing the sounds of your crying.— An odd yet not unpleasant, emotion taking over the shape of his mouth and curving it upwards, Sukuna drags a finger down your backbone, relishing in the way you shiver, then relax with a sigh under his touch.

Letting your temper to ebb away for another good minute, your lover inquires, keeping his tone void of anything except curiosity, "When is the last time you used your pain-relieving bath salts, pet?"

Your eyes blinking slowly, Sukuna watches them travel to the cabinet where you keep them stored in stacks, before returning to him, quite puzzled. And fatigued.

Adorably small yawns escaping, you murmur.

"I only use them when it's that time of month, which was..." Your eyes flutter open and close, painfully slowly, yet again— before they widen, becoming not unlike the full moon in the sky tonight.

You gasp, shaky fingers poking your belly before reaching a rest on it.

Covering them with his much larger ones, your lover hums, "Happy?"

"Not at all," you shake your head, reaching your other hand to trail the many tattoos on your husband's face, before stopping at the apple of his cheek.

Sukuna swears time ceases to exist in the momentary pause you take— restored only by the blinding beam you offer next, followed by your sweet voice uttering those words, he knows he'll remember for all the millennia he will live.

"I'm very, very happy— you dummy prehistoric curse."

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primofate · 3 months

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Hello! I love your works! 💕 For request how about some fluff with Kabukimono/Kunikuzushi who wasn't abandoned by Ei and he lives in her temple? The reader is personal maid that takes care of Kuni and she has a lil crush on him ? Kuni is not aware of warm feelings he feels for her too! If it's not in your taste that's okay! I wish you and your family to always be healthy!

Oh God, this is so interesting I might get carried away. This is the problem with me and requests I find interesting. I just spend all my time working on ONE request lollllll. I'm so weak, I apologize.

Thank you for sticking with me, by the way. Appreciate the support.

Premise:

Kunikuzushi calls Raiden by "Ei" and sees her more of a sister than a "mother"

He houses the electro gnosis and it hasn't been taken away

Reader is a vision holder, but is not a fighter. More of a healer/support type of person.

He has his own quarters in Tenshukaku but for the purpose of the story his main home would be Shakkei Pavilion

Reader is not the only maid/servant he has.

I'm assuming that Kunikuzushi is way softer than "Scaramouche", but inherently there's still a hint of mischief and trickery in his ways.

Warnings:

I think I may have taken this too far and she's hardly a personal "maid" anymore >_> sorry I hope you still like it.

Story and headcanons start here:

The traits of a Kunikuzushi in love

Does not treat you like a maid.

"What're you doing?" he asks, eyeing the tea you place on the table, then darting up to meet your confused expression.

"...Giving you your daily tea?" You squeak out. You'd been new to the job. Probably a month or two in, and this was one of the daily routines that you had to do and prepare for. Every day was a different blend of tea, sometimes he requested for certain ones. You didn't think there was anything different about the way you did things today.

"Yes, thank you," he adds, but still stares straight at you. "But I meant why are you leaving?"

You blink. It feels like an eternity of silence passes for you didn't have an answer, but he fills it with his voice once again. "Sit down and join me, there isn't anything else for you to do, is there?"

Awkwardly, you slide onto the free zabuton adjacent to him. He calls for another maid, who enters with her head bowed. "...Kindly get another teacup for Y/N,"

"Oh, no, that's alright. I don't need--" you start, but the maid exits and Kunikuzushi abruptly starts talking again. "Ei says that you were hired to be my personal maid,"

You shift in your seat, still not certain about what you're supposed to do in this situation. "Yes, Young Master,"

His face curls into distaste, something about the title makes him uncomfortable but he doesn't protest. "In that case there isn't anything else for you to do except to cater to me, correct?"

You only think for a second. "...That would be...technically correct, yes,"

He hums and continues with what he was doing beforehand, practicing brushstrokes with black ink and parchment paper. "Then join me for tea, and let me know if my handwriting has improved,"

2. Gets irritated when you're on a day off

"Is there something wrong?" Ei asks, her eyes still closed. She peeks an eye open to look at Kunikuzushi's slightly annoyed expression and furrowed brows, then closes her eye again.

"Not at all, sister," but his tone is flat and he had not taken another sip of the tea served with his breakfast today.

There's a few seconds of silence followed by a hum from the Raiden Shogun. "...Then what is the ominous presence coming from your person, little one?"

There's a soft grunt, followed by shifting, a small sigh and a sort of huff. Ei is surprised every day by how much expression Kunikuzushi shows. She had always thought he was fragile, but perhaps he was slowly building his own personality. She finally opens her eyes when she hears a sort of mumble directed at her, she asks for it to be repeated again, as she hadn't heard it clearly.

"...This isn't how Y/N makes my tea," He looked to be a spoiled prince at that moment and it takes a lot for Ei not to break out into a chuckle at his statement.

"There's no way for them to always be around you, Kuni. Y/N deserves to rest from time to time," she states, starting on her own breakfast. There he goes again with that tiny huff, but he doesn't complain more, and opts to keep his mouth shut.

3. is more energetic when you're around--and his sister finally notices

The training session started rather early today. Though you sat on the sidelines watching Ei and Kunikuzushi battle it out, you had gotten used to the clash of electro against electro by this point.

At the beginning it was rather frightening, the sheer amount of power the two of them combined had. You were once scared to be struck by lightning on accident, now it was almost comforting to be around.

"You seem to have more reserves of energy on certain days," Ei exclaims as she sheathes her sword to mark the end of training. You might have imagined it, but you thought her eyes flick over to you for the fastest second.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, sister. It's just like any other day," Kunikuzushi slightly pants, catching his breath. You take that as a signal to stand and bow, then entering the training ring with a cloth in hand.

You scurry over next to him, and offer the cloth for him to take. He takes it with a slight smile, "Thank you, Y/N," and you nod in response.

"I have your change of clothes ready at the hot springs," you say and he always feel a sense of relief that you've got things under control and ready for him, specially after a long training session.

He thanks you again, and excuses himself. "I'll see you outside then, I won't be long," he promises, despite the fact that you've always told him he can take his time to freshen up.

He disappears first, and you bow towards the Raiden before turning to follow him.

"Y/N," the Raiden calls out to you just as Kunikuzushi leaves the room. You stop in your tracks and turn back around. You almost know what she's about to say.

"...Don't forget, what you were tasked to do, when the time arises," The Raiden whispers. There's a sort of melancholy in the way she says it but a definite determination in the way you answer.

"Of course, your grace,"

4. Feels a sense of insecurity when someone else shows interest towards you.

Despite your title being a "maid" you didn't wear the same purple uniform that all the servants were made to wear. You were still in uniform, but it was a rather official looking garb than what most had.

"It'll be a long meeting today," Kunikuzushi warns you. That was part of your duty now, tagging along wherever he went, and it was just something that he specifically asked you to do.

Diplomatic meetings were held from time to time, this time with a clan head. He was younger than you thought, with a good head on his shoulders. It was something about the import and export goods in the port of Ritou, something that you weren't concerned with, and something that you usually tuned out while waiting for the meeting to end.

Kunikuzushi doesn't quite know why he subjects you to such boring tasks. You could've stayed back at the Pavilion, but what exactly would you do there. It was just a different type of boring.

Contrary to what he thought, you hadn't found it boring at all. In a sense it was your job to watch after him and his needs, and so this was all part of your required tasks.

When the meeting was adjourned everyone stood to bow at each other, it wasn't at the last moment that the clan head acknowledged your presence.

"...Excuse me, though it's been a great chat and I do appreciate your grace's presence today...I'd been wondering," he motions a hand toward you, "if it was possible to grace me with your name,"

You stand there dumbfounded at first, until you realize he was talking to you. "Oh, me? I...am..." you hesitated because you didn't know if it was respectful for someone as low as you to even open your mouth. Each person in the room had their eyes on you now. Everyone, except Kunikuzushi, who had stared the man down as if trying to drown him in an endless gaze, answers for you.

"...This is Y/N," he looked to be thinking about what to say next. "...I'm indebted to them for looking after me all this time,"

"Ah," the clan leader pipes up, tearing his gaze away from you.

Ah what? You wonder. Not completely following the conversation. However, the next thing you know the clan leader had apologized, and Kunikuzushi abruptly turns and starts walking, leaving you to hurriedly follow after him in a slight daze.

5. Thinks about your well being

"Y/N, are you aware that I house the gnosis in my body?" he asked you one day.

"Yes, since the beginning, my lord," you don't know what brings this topic up. The gnosis was almost never talked about.

In the study, there's a moment of silence as he continues to practice his brush strokes. Each flick of his wrist is more precise than before, and you had the mind to compliment him.

"...If the day comes that someone attempts to take it... That's the only time I'd want you to leave me be. Do you understand?"

Your shoulders tense up for only a moment, your eyes tacked on to the calligraphic words he was painting. "...I understand,"

6. Wants to keep you safe

"May I ask your name and affiliation?" You stand at the main doors of Shakkei Pavilion. There are about 4 other servants behind you, standing straight and curious about the commotion.

"Signora, of the Fatui," An elegant looking lady, you thought, but what business could she have here?

"...and your reason for visiting, milady?" You attempt to be polite, offering a smile. Perhaps she was just lost...but that could not be the case, judging from the hoard of armored and weaponed men behind her.

"I heard that there was a person of note residing here," she smiles, her voice is sultry, matching the dress that she wore. She wasn't even trying to hide what she was after now. "I would like an audience with him,"

You turn your head the slightest bit towards a servant and nod at him, he takes the signal and proceeds inside the Pavilion. You turn your attention back to Signora and give her the most pleasant smile you could muster.

"I see. The young master is resting at the moment, I've sent someone in to check if he would like to entertain guests right now...but the chances are low. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I'll certainly tell him that you've come,"

"...Don't forget, what you were tasked to do, when the time arises,"

The chuckle that Signora lets out sends shivers down your spine, the men behind her start to step forward. "I'm afraid tomorrow would be too late, we'll welcome ourselves in now,"

"...Picking a personal "maid" was a long process, and you were chosen for a reason... When the time comes, there will be those who will attempt to take the gnosis,"

Signora walks forward, but stops in her tracks as a loud BANG BANG BANG resonates in the sky. Fireworks erupt, one by one, a cascading colour of red, and only red. A particular one stands out as it shoots up into the sky, it makes a loud sound, almost like its whistling and whizzing through the air, before it erupts, a trail of bright red smoke hovering in the night sky.

Signora scoffs and finally grins at you. "A signal fire. You're smarter than you look,"

"And if it so happens that we are far away from each other, you're to send a signal to alert me...From there on, what I need is time. Distract them, as much as you can, and keep Kunikuzushi away, as far as you can,"

"What's going on out here--" At the same time that Kunikuzushi appears at the top of the stairs. You turn to look at him once, and once only. You give him a reassuring smile as he asses the situation, eyes darting to and fro before landing on you.

"It'll be fine, milord," you whisper. He most likely couldn't even hear you where he stood. Perhaps the reassurance was for yourself. The ground rumbles, it feels almost like an earthquake. Vines, trees, roots, branches and leaves erupt from the ground behind you. Your dendro vision shines on your shoulder.

7. Won't let you go

"Y/N?!" Kunikuzushi shouts in confusion as the trees keep erupting. They become taller and taller, higher and higher and he can hardly see you now--

It hits him, what you were trying to do. This was a barrier to keep him inside the Pavilion, and to keep the intruders out. Out there with you.

"Y/N!" he starts running down the stairs as vine after vine weave into each other. He still has a glimpse of your back, but the shrubs and the leaves and the branches are closing in.

8. "Stop!"

The trees are higher than ever, forming a thick wall. His legs stumble, almost rolling down the stairs. There's an open hole left, if he could just reach it--

but roots start to swirl into it, he reaches, but his hand touches nothing but vines and soil. "No!" He looks up and around for an opening of any kind. There's none.

It's a solid wall of tangled trees and plant matter. He pushes into it with a grunt and it doesn't budge the slightest bit. When he stills, it's quiet. It's so incredibly quiet that one would not even think there was something happening on the other side of this artificial wall.

9. "This can't be happening,"

Is it a nightmare? He asks himself.

He reaches deep inside for the hidden reserves of electro energy, attempting to put pressure onto the wall, trying to get it to give in. He pushes hit after hit of electro energy spheres, and hit after hit it budges that slightest bit.

It's working, but not fast enough.

"Pathetic!" He says to himself, the words echoing into nothingness, voicing out how he felt about his own powers.

Had he used his full power before? No. There had never been a need to. Who would have thought he would attempt to because of you.

He pulls not only from his electro energy...now he pulls his energy even from the gnosis, and under no circumstance was he allowed to use the full extent of its power. Ei said it might break him...but how far was he willing to go?

10. "Just hang in there, I'm coming,"

The Raiden would be here soon.

Is what you kept telling yourself, despite your bruised and cut up appearance. It was easy enough to stall the Fatui soldiers. Signora was the real problem, and her pyro affinity was even more of a problem for you.

You find yourself cornered, and the crimson with of flames stares down at you. "I'll give you a chance," she starts, voice amused and perky. "Open this wall, and I'll let you live. It's as easy as that. There's no need to throw your life away protecting the gnosis. You're young, a whole life ahead of you,"

You tip your head up, eyes blurring for a split second, headache worsening. You probably hit your head somewhere during the chaos. "...It's not the gnosis I'm trying to protect,"

Signora frowns in disappointment, but says nothing else. She didn't like wasting her breath. She lifts her hand above your head and you see a flicker of flames.

Then a bright light.

A bright, purple light, engulfing the entirety of the open area. The two of you recoil and block your eyes.

11. "Back away. Don't touch Y/N,"

You're too tired to open your eyes. But its warm and comfortable. The words and sounds just turns into a buzz in your ears.

A snapshot of memories race through your mind, little pictures of everything in your life leading up to today. Yet most of it consisted of your time serving Kunikuzushi. Tending to him when he was sick, pointing at the cherry blossom tree while out on a walk, looking at the lanterns during the festival.

You were not a maid. You never felt like you were. You were a companion.

Then, your eyes snap open. You bolt up on the bed you're resting in and instantly regret the sudden action. "Augh..." you groan, falling back down on your elbows.

On closer inspection, no one else was in the room. It was just you. You slowly put yourself down to a laying position again, staring at the ceiling.

What happened? You ask yourself, coming up with no answers whatsoever.

12. "You...You're alive,"

It all comes back to you when you see him standing by the sliding door, a cup of water in his hand. You keep each other's gaze for the longest time, until he slowly walks over to the chair next to you...and slumps forward to bury his head into your white sheets.

"...Are you unhurt, milord...?" you whisper, for the silence seems so fragile.

"...Physically, yes," he mumbles. "Mentally...I'm...seething with rage and drowning in...something. I don't know what it is, I just..."

You let nothing be said between the two of you for a few more moments.

"I can breathe now," he continues, and you stay looking at the back of his head. "I can breathe now," he repeats. "That's what it felt like. As if I had lost my breath and it was hard to breathe," He picks his head up to glare at poor old you. "and then I'm angry because neither you nor Ei had told me anything about a plan...If it concerns me, I deserve to know!"

You wince at the sudden increase in volume, and he apologizes quickly. "S-Sorry, I'm...just..." again he struggles to find the words that names his feelings. There's so many things at the same time, it was hard for him to comprehend.

You pipe up for him, "Worried,"

He tosses the word back and forth in his head. Is that what this is? Worry? An emotion so crippling that he was unable to do anything else except wait for you to wake up.

"...but why?" He asks himself aloud. You trace the expressions on his face. He doesn't know.

But you do.

You know exactly why he was feeling that way because you feel it too.

13. "Please don't do that again,"

He almost begs you a few days later, when you've made a full recovery. He can't bear it. He can't imagine what worse things could have happened if he nor Ei didn't make it on time.

"Besides, there's no need to... Ei confiscated the gnosis from me..." he grumbles something about a punishment for using too much of its power.

You hum a little, and repeat what you told Signora. "It's not the gnosis I'm trying to protect,"

"...I can take care of myself just fine," he huffs, catching on to what you were implying.

"Oh, then it seems I'm out of a job, young master! A personal maid seems hardly necessary," you were only teasing, but something sort of switches on in his mind. He looks straight at you, and without any hesitation whatsoever,

14. "You are always necessary...Lest I find it hard to breathe,"

This was how he described how he felt, in this straightforward manner yet long winded way. You hide a smile.

Perhaps he'll never understand his own feelings, perhaps he will.

For you, being certain about yours was more than enough.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact #scaramouche angst #scaramouche fluff #wanderer #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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gildedkrone · 5 months

Text

As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

request from somebody asking for military reader with internalised homophobia. john price x male reader

"You really ought to not blow your cigar smoke onto me, you know?"

The warm embers of spent tobacco, an all too familiar sight in the dark, starry night, and he's smiling, albeit faintly. He takes an audible suck of air, and the embers glow brighter and fade into a dull orange.

"Thought yer used to it by now," Price blows the hints of something scorched gently across your nose and you fan the smoke away with a flick of your hand.

"I don't smoke, John." He blinks and nods to take another chuff of the cigar as you look away then back at him.

He says he knows. Infernally glorious bastard of a captain and he's content with the warm tranquility settled into the space and the cigar is the last thing the mind's got time for. On the rooftop, the stars are ever distant in the cosmos’s grasp and he moves to lay with his back to the railing, almost close enough to touch. But he doesn't come any closer than that and a healthy distance remains between you and him.

"How many years has it been?"

Five. Five years since he appeared in his lieutenant uniform with SAS patches sewn neatly onto the vest and now? Now, he's a captain of a famed task force and chasing a terrorist halfway across the world with a short break in between his ever-growing catalogue of missions. The rank suits him well, suits him and his beard nicely as he grew into the man standing before you.

All's well. If all's well, then why does it feel as if there's a divide between you and him?

"You know," his head angles towards you when the silence fills with murmurs, "I never did congratulate you on your promotion, John."

"Never too late to do so, sweetheart."

"You call everyone that? Bet your lieutenant wouldn't take it well. That mask—"

"Not him." The words are scented with woodsy, "Nobody else gets to be a sweetheart." And he's saying it so sincerely, it’s impossible to doubt the truth and intensity in his words.

"Exceptions? You're not being fair, captain."

He scoffs and you take the time to admire his visage with a subtle lean towards him. The left eyebrow hitches a little, then it falls back to its place and he's smiling warmly as the cigar burns away in crumbling ashes falling to the wind under the pale moonlight.

"How's your love life? Still seeing Sandy?" The sudden change of topic and you cock your head slightly and he grimaces slightly to have felt some sense of chagrin at poking the sore wound in your heart.

"We broke up a month ago." He lowers the cigar, "She just, didn't want to be in a relationship with a military man, you know? All the absences made her mad and she just ... left."

"On a Thursday afternoon."

He listens so attentively; he's reminiscent of the cadets under your care when they first arrive at sergeant bootcamp. A little awestruck and very much eager to learn and get going and you lean in closer for a look at the new-ish scar marring the area above his eyebrows.

"You've gone and hurt yourself again, eh?"

Fingers brush across the region of his face gently as his face is pliant in your hands and tilts with each nudge to facilitate your examination of his new battle scar. Eventually, you release his face and he runs a hand through his scar absentmindedly.

"You datin' again?"

"No such luck. Tinder's trash these days. All you'll ever find are people down to fuck and run. 's not much better on the other dating platforms too."

"Just women?" The parting of your lips and nothing comes out; the words don't come as they should.

"Just women. I-I ... I’ve never considered other men, John."

"Why not?"

It's a moment of confusion—you entertain his queries about manhood and love. What do you say to that? It's a minefield of emotions and memories tangled with barbs and spikes laden with the flags of youth and curiosity shaped into a spitball refusing to be verbalized.

"I don't think another man could ever love me. And ..." The forgotten cigar in his hands dull and the soft cerulean eyes are gently imploring you to continue, "I ... well, it's wrong and I ... don't know if I can do it."

He nods empathetically and you lean back into the railing to find fleeting interest in the moon. How did the conversation morph into this weird mess of clunky and awkward conversations?

"Well, I have a problem when it comes to dating." Oh? Go on, and he does go on.

"I met a man, and I don't know if he fancies me the way I fancy him."

"Really? I'm glad for you, John. What is he like?"

It's cute how his brows furrow slightly when he's in deep concentration and he says—valiant and resplendent. The vigor of the sun, the ferocity of the lion, and the tenacity of the stars.

"Valiant? Resplendent? You must really like him to hold him at such a regard."

"It's not an exaggeration, lieutenant."

Who had managed to capture John's heart to such a degree? You lose interest in the moon to lay the brunt of your attention on him. His eyes dart away into inkiness night then back at you and its kept steady as a sniper's hands in a high-tension scenario.

"Have you tried telling him? About how you feel?"

"You have tips? ‘M not sure quite how to break it to him."

He seems mildly amused by the chuckle and you regale him with strategies and tactics to win over the mystery man Price loves so much. Everything you’ve learnt from the trashy romance novels stashed in your drawers never to be seen any other service personnel. Even if they would never find their place with another man.

"So, a hand grasp and a head tilt, lots of eye contact, and a heartfelt confession? It’s certainly shorter than the list on the web.”

“Mmhm, it’s that simple.”

He asks if you would entertain his request to rehearse it. You humor him and step away from the railing to face him head on. He clears his throat and warmth envelops your hand in a hand shaped like John’s. His body posture is open and inviting, and he’s putting in the effort to treat it seriously.

His hands clasped with yours is so damn warm and fiercely domestic, and his fingers are gentle when they tilt your head upwards slightly. Something in your heart twists slightly at the endearment in his eyes; you’ve been privy to aggression, bloodlust, and anger in them. But not this. Blood hammers in your ears and you keep your face schooled in blasé calm even if his grasp is uncharacteristically soft and yet, harbored the love he had in his being.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words are painful to hear on ears not meant for them and instincts are warring in your head in tumult.

You cough gently to realign his focus with the moment.

“Yeah, so, that is how you do it, John.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“That’s what you would say that to the man you love so much.”

His throat swallows harshly and his hand remains on your chin. He eyes search for something, and he says it again.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

What is he doing? He cuts you off before you can start.

“I’m saying it to the man I love.”

Whiplash. Whiplash at the revelation as your lips part to reveal hollow words and empty reconciliation of the revelation and your thoughts. No. This—

“I mean it. Whole heartedly. Fully.”

“John … I—I can’t love you, not—”

“I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

“Why? Why the fuck would you choose me? Of all the men and women in the world and you’ve gone and loved the one person who can’t give you anything! John, why?”

His hands are still clasped around yours and laced around your runaway heart. Don’t leave.

“Because it’s what the heart wants, love.” He tugs you in closer and in a moment of stupor, you feel the warmth emanating from him against the chilly night.

“It’s wrong—” And by god, it’s so fucking hard to tell him why it’s wrong when he’s looking at you like that. All worried and desperate to alleviate whatever you were feeling.

“I don’t want to be the fool who dies with a million regrets. And this is fixing it.”

He’s so close but he’s waiting for permission to breach the last barrier of that defensive wall built around the wastelands of the heart. He wipes away the tears which had formed, and soft lips are all you can feel when he closes the gap. Plush, soft lips press against yours and his embrace is all encompassing even as your eyes are shut to close out the world. He comes into view when warmth of his lips disappears and shakes rattle your body in his arms.

“I’ll be here for as long as you want me, sweetheart.”

He means it.

“’m not leaving, unless you tell me to.”

“John, I … I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out together. Me and you, we will find our way as a unit. Together, we’ll do it together.”

He is deadly serious again. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“No … I—I don’t want you to leave. I’m so fucking scared, John.”

“I’m here.” He is here. His hands on your back are proof of his existence in a world bending into a pinpoint of focus that is only John and his features and his exhales on your cheeks. What were you supposed to say? Or do?

There’s no need to do anything.

And maybe, just maybe, that is enough of a promise for you that everything is going to be ok—if it's John, and this was fine, more than fine. Your nod is what John needed to bring your foreheads together.

“Thanks fer trusting me, love.”

The hints of tobacco smoke don’t smell as acrid as they did a while ago and the night isn’t so cold anymore. Not when he wears his heart on his sleeves and draped over you in the moonlight.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

#fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #price fanfiction #cod x male reader

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idyllcy · 4 months

Text

the second - jinshi x reader (bonus to so i don't know how to love)

Jinshi has been more quiet lately.

Maomao first takes note of it on the second week, and on the third, the poor eunuch looks like he's aged to fifty-six. She blinks at the eunuch, and it seemed another annoying request would be arriving at her doorstep soon. She would have preferred that it stay quiet. But of course, something had to happen. Something always does.

"Maomao." Jinshi groans from the desk.

His usual smirk is replaced by his hair, and his forehead rests on the desk, his head spinning as his soul practically slips past his lips. He's much older, now that she looks at him. Perhaps the worrying over his missing wife had taken a toll— but he had looked much much younger when he had picked her up from the spring residence a year ago.

Maomao smiles to the best of her ability. "Yes?"

"Can you prescribe some chinese medicine that is good for a healthy baby."

Maomao blinks. "Are one of the consorts pregnant already?"

"No." He moves his face to rest on his cheek. "My wife is pregnant with our second."

Maomao blinks incredulously, slowly, utterly confusedly. "She let you sleep with you after—" She shuts herself up, forcing a smile on her face instead. Too many questions would get her nowhere. After all, the madam had just returned. She was not about to make her regret her decision. Though, it seemed the poor guy had been using her day and night for his sexual needs. She feels bad. That poor woman.

Jingui peers from the door at his father, blinking.

"Is niang alright?" Jinshi opens his arms for his son to give him a hug.

Maomao shudders at the affection.

"Niang just woke up." Jingui hums. "I am visiting before my shared class with the princess."

"Very well." He sends him on his way with a kiss on his forehead.

Maomao blinks at Jinshi. "Medicine for the madam?"

"For her pregnancy."

"Isn't she too old to be having children?"

"Aren't you too old to be single?"

"Hey, don't bully the child." You click your tongue disdainfully at the door, and Maomao nods at you as you pass her and stop. "Hand."

Her eyes light up when you drop her some poisonous flowers from your handkerchief.

"That should be enough, right?"

Maomao nods, lips curled into a smile. "You're so much better than he is."

You laugh, smile radiant, and Maomao waves goodbye as she rushes off for the herbs.

"You don't need to bully me for each time I say something out of pocket to her, you know?" Jinshi pouts, looking to the side.

"Have you stopped to consider that she's not married because she doesn't want it?" You roll your eyes. "I heard stress is bad for the baby. You better not go around stressing me out."

Jinshi makes a face of betrayal at you, mouth open and frustrated.

"Niang! The princess wants to see you fight!" Jingui calls from outside, and you hum.

"It's bad for the baby!" Jinshi yells back.

"It's fine." You hum. "Unless you want to pose as me?"

Jinshi grimaces. "I am coming with."

"Fine with me!" You hum. "Niang's coming!"

Maomao stops on her way back to the study with the medicine, staring as you show the princess how to use the sword, holding back a laugh at the way Jinshi looks like he's about to throw up. Well, this isn't the worst thing.

"Madam! Your medicine." Maomao motions at the pot, and you grimace.

Jinshi catches you before you can run away, and your son takes the pot from her with a nod.

Maybe this isn't half as bad.

#jinshi x reader #apothecary diaries x reader #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto x reader #☾.blurbs

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yandere-sins · 5 months

Note

Ivyyyyyyyy >.< you're the worsttttt(read: BEST) oh my god the thoughts im having abt dilic with a period kink rn. Gawd and he doesn't even know it's a period kink, he thinks it's absolutely normal to do nasty things with his girl while she's bleeding out and feels proud about it that HE can take her pain away

OMG continuing the diluc saga but yan dilic thinks darling's period is the perfect opportunity to finally put his hands on darling. He knows you're in pain so he promises, he's doing this for YOU not him (lies) he'll ease it in gently and make it feel good! Soon darling will forget all about those cramps bc of him him him! He doesnt need to feel as guilty bc he's helping you out.....right? OMG PLS write something abt thissss, it can be any yandere or oc but im going crazy after what u saiddd

Hehe, you're welcome! I began writing this as just a talk, but decided mid-way through to make it a scenario!

a/n: I wrote this before my hiatus and coming back to correct it, I found so many mistakes, it doesn't even feel like I wrote this smh... I did my best to polish it a bit since I can't see myself rewriting it in the future but if you find anything oddly worded just ignore it lol I wasn't myself back then :')

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

I can just see the cock cogs turning in this idiot's head as he racks his brain about how he can help you. Clearly, you're in pain, but no matter how many more times he calls a physician to have a look, they just keep waving off his concerns. It's normal, they say. You're healthy. That's what everyone has to go through.

And yet he sees you writhing and crying in pain—it's breaking his heart!

Pillow pressed to your stomach, tears in your eyes that you can't blink away fast enough before they fall. You're especially irritable, but it hurts him more when you whine and complain; Diluc wanting to help you now more than ever. He's already gone through the usual stuff, the imported water bottles from Snezhnaya and the chocolate from Fontaine. If you utter so much as a craving, he has the servants scramble to get it to you. Nothing is too expensive or too hard to get. You could have asked for the heads of your enemies, and Diluc would have brought them to you with ribbons and glitter if that had helped with your pains.

But alas, it doesn't.

It's been three days, and his nerves are raw, the bags under his eyes dark, and the burden of your health weighs heavily on Diluc. He can't see how things will ever get better. The other times you were on your period were conveniently skipped by business trips, so this is hitting him full force.

"Exercising might help," one of the maids suggests as he forces himself to consult someone more knowledgeable than him.

"Sometimes, my wife likes a little stimulation to alleviate the pain," a vintner chuckles, winking at Diluc as the word of his helplessness spreads. And suddenly, inappropriate ideas get stuck in his head, making him blush like a young lad in love.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Taking a deep breath, Diluc raised his hand to knock on your bedroom door. It was terribly late, the servants asleep and only the eery flickering of his candle guiding him through the night. Most likely, you were tugged in and fighting for your well-deserved sleep, so he hesitated, fist hanging in the air before slowly dropping it to his side.

What he was about to do was not only foolish but also filled him with the same burning in his body as using his vision did. He could feel the warmth sweep over him from his head to his toes, the latter curling in his shoes while most of the heat was throbbing between his legs, aching to connect with your warmth in a less-than-innocent way.

However, these feelings were nothing compared to the agony of the last few days.

If this was what he had to do to help you alleviate the pain, he would. If it was for you, Diluc would do anything in his power, whether to protect or help you. If he had to become a mere plaything so you'd be freed of the pain, then his concerns were a small sacrifice for all the good he was going to do.

Brushing his hair back, Diluc took a deep breath, reminding himself there was nothing wrong with wanting to help. If the method the vintner suggested worked, everyone would be happy. And if not, he'd keep searching for ways to free you of the pain. Turning the key in the door lock, he pulled it out before slowly entering your room, ensuring he could give you two the privacy needed in this situation.

To his surprise, you were still awake.

You made a half-hearted attempt at a greeting, but when you noticed it was him, you only scoffed, turning away. It hurt when you gave him the cold shoulder so callously, but Diluc knew you were the one suffering at that moment, not him. He could forgive you for being dismissive of him. Your bedside lamp was still on, and he could see you clutching a pillow to your belly, his own stomach cramping up with remorse, even though, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault. He loved you as you were, the good and bad days, your misery becoming his own much too easily these days.

Setting down the candle on your table, he walked over to you. But not before locking the door from the inside, just so he could give himself a few more seconds before his approach. Every step cost him a lot of discipline, being near you never having been this hard. Even when he looked confident around you, Diluc only ever felt weak. You made him vulnerable. Desperate. Longing for your love and affection was all he was allowed to do, so even just watching your chest rise and fall set him ablaze.

Pushing off his shoes, Diluc focused on the little space you left at the edge of the bed. It was the only space he could see that was reserved for him, as he didn't deserve to share your bed, in your opinion. Yet, when he climbed in, pulling the cover over himself and snaking his arm around your waist, he was enveloped in your scent, your hair tickling his skin as he breathed in deeply. Had he known that heaven was hiding so closely to him, he might not have waited so long to come and see you.

"What are you--" you complained, pushing yourself away from him. But Diluc's hand had already wandered beneath the pillow, feeling the hot water bottle you kept secured there, only to replace it with his palm. He was just as, if not hotter than anything the servants could procure for you; his body temperature naturally elevated from his vision. It wouldn't burn you, but with his hand hugging your lower belly, it was much more effective and fitting than any appliance might be.

And you fell for it, even if just for a split second.

For a moment, you leaned into the comfort of his palm, the pain vanishing in the blink of an eye. Diluc even caught you sighing briefly before you came to your senses, jolting and pushing away from him, only to get stuck inside the blanket and pressed up against him. Diluc couldn't help but grin, having read your actions before they even occurred to you, but of course, this was a serious matter, so he quickly composed himself.

"H-Hey!" you yelled as his hand drifted lower, his face burying into the nape of your neck. He wasn't there to dilly-dally but to be of service. To help you in your time of need. By the time Diluc pressed his lips to your skin and his fingers between your legs, you understood his intentions as well, perhaps misinterpreted, but clear as day.

He was going to fuck the pain away.

If exercise and stimulation helped others, maybe it would do the same for you. His fingers were met with warm slick, your body flinching when he moved over your clit. Perhaps his calloused hands weren't made for caressing and soft touches but for teasing and stimulating. Judging by how puffy your lower lips were, worked up from days of rubbing your legs together and your panties aggravating them mercilessly, you were in dire need of his help.

"Don't fight it. You're not alone in this," Diluc reassured you as you squirmed in his hold, biting back the salacious sounds of pleasure you were keeping from his ears. You were so mean, keeping every little taste of appreciation from Diluc, knowing how much it meant to him. But he'd endure. Even when your ass ground back against his cock, making it incredibly hard to not focus on his needs as well, he'd put you first in all of this.

When he slipped his pointer and middle finger towards your entrance, a tremor went through your body, a gasp slipping out from between your lips. Diluc never knew how easy it was to get inside another person, greeted warmly and happily by your hole clenching around his fingers.

His kisses became more fervent against your neck, teeth snapping out as he felt like he was losing himself in your scent and warmth. The pushes of his hips against your ass became faster, your cheeks fitting so well around his shaft. You yelled at him to stop, but he barely heard you through the sounds of your sloppy, wet cunt, blood mingling with eager juices to allow him more reach inside you. It was almost as if he could hear them beg for him to go deeper, which just wasn't possible with his knuckles in the way, no matter how much he tried.

Forgotten was the pain as pleasure raked its claws through both of you, and yet, Diluc still heard you whine and sob as he scissored his fingers through your inside. It wasn't enough. He opened his eyes he didn't know he had closed, staring at your expression curiously. All he saw was anger and disgust, your teeth bared and ready to snap, while he could feel your nails digging into his arm. And yet, when he found your eyes, he saw a very different version of events. Lust, desire, longing. You wanted more, and Diluc wouldn't refuse such a request.

Slipping a leg between yours, he pried them apart, spreading you open wide. You gasped, squirming and trying to cut off his access, but Diluc only had to lean back to steal your balance, your body reliant on his while he gained more space on your bed. The hardest part was freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants, the fabric soggy with both your juices as well as his own pre-cum pearling off the tip of his engorged cock.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your wet cunt greeting his eager cock. No imagining of this situation could have come close to the throbbing heat, your walls convulsing around his fingers in eager expectation. Diluc placed his tip against his fingers, planning to slip them out and take the opening to sink into you, but with how wet the combination of blood and juices was, he felt himself slipping away, kissing your clit instead.

And for the first time, you moaned.

It was the sound of angels and everything nice, and he drew his hips back, trying again to fill you with his cock, missing it just an inch. All good things are three, and when he finally plunged it deep inside your pussy, you weren't the only one yowling in pleasure. No matter what he had imagined his first time with you to be, nothing would ever top the mess he caused between your legs, his cock ready to burst as it pulsated violently inside your equally as ready cunt.

He could feel the waves of pleasure going through you, the shudders in your limbs as he began to slowly press forward, kissing the last few inches of his reach. You remained stiff as a plank, but when he pulled out halfway before sinking in deep again, you were unable to keep your mouth shut, an elongated moan making its way to Diluc's ears, letting him know it was the right thing after all.

Immediately, any hesitation fell off him as he dragged his cock out and sunk it back into you. Fingers retreated to your clit, continuing to slip off and assault the little knob over and over while your walls clenched around his shaft, making you feel every one of his throbs and ridges, the heat between you two almost scorching.

Part of him couldn't believe it worked. That he actually managed to help you with this trick. But he'd have been a liar if he said it wasn't a pleasure for him, too. Diluc could never have dreamed about your proficiency in driving him wild, from your hot, puffy pussy wrapping around him to the improper sounds he had never heard coming from your lips before. The blood kept you so wet and loud down there; it was like you were synching your moans with your pussy, sloppy as they were.

It couldn't have been better, a shudder going through you from head to toe, your feet curling as you gurgled. Diluc wrapped his free arm around your throat, pulling you against him and burying his face in your shoulder as you came hard, juices leaking out, red dripping on the clean sheets with the blanket long discarded.

You were gasping for air as he plunged right back into you, waiting but a mere few seconds of yours before pursuing his own orgasm. Selfishly, but unable to stop. Diluc was already too deep in it, quite literally, your orgasm making your inside tight around him, but it posed no challenge with how drenched you both were.

A strained groan escaped Diluc as he buckled, feeling the first squirts of cum shoot out of him before he drew back, popping out of your cunt and covering it in his cum. His tip got stuck on your clit, as his jizz ejected under the pressure of his orgasm, making you mewl as you were once again stimulated. It would be a mess to clean, but it had been worth it.

You two collapsed, spent and dirty, but Diluc slipped his palm back over your lower stomach, rubbing the collection of juices over your soft skin, leaving a red trail. Kissing the side of your head, he was trying to collect his breath and thoughts, barely able to think straight as the feelings of happiness and his relief kept him in a chokehold.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a blissful rumble as he pulled you firmer against him.

But all he was met with was a cold glare and tears in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered instinctively, immediately feeling bad. What had he done to upset you again? Your teeth were biting into your lip as if you were holding back a tirade of screaming, ready to explode.

His cock twitched between your legs, bloody and so, so wet.

"I'll make it better! I promise! I will definitely make it better," he tried to reassure you, dazed with pleasure as he was, unable to see the actual problem with all of this. Your body convulsed in shock as he pressed his tip upwards again, and you gasped loudly as he sunk his inches inside you. This time, he wouldn't fail to make you feel better. And until then, he'd keep going.

All night long, if he had to.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

Text

Anhedonia 1/2

Word count: 5,5 k (part 1) and 4,4 k (part 2)

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader Tags: SMUT 🔞🔞🔞 Literally just unadulterated, deranged filth, plot is there for decoration. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mutual pining, sexual tension (duh), blood & injury, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), mutual masturbation, cum all over the place, light humiliation, dirty talk, some praise, swearing, mask stays on, fluffy/reconciliatory ending. Summary: Reader is a Task Force 141 operator and a terrible brat (and suffers the consequences of it later). Enemies to lovers/toxic relationship that takes a healthy turn in the end.

"Think you're smarter than your lieutenant? Is that it?"

"No sir."

You coat your voice with steel. Stainless, similar to the knife he has strapped to his thigh. You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle. You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets.

He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

- - - - - - - - -

He's a mountain you want to climb.

A peak you wish to conquer.

But there's no basecamp, nothing to hold on to. You learn that relatively quickly, during your first weeks under his command.

And he's good. You find yourself wondering how on earth the man's not a captain by now. Perhaps they want to keep him on the field, because he earns his alias every day. He's a shadow no one sees before it's too late, he impregnates his enemies with bullets. Dead silent as he does it, or if he's in the mood, prefers to drive thick, sharp steel between the soft spot behind the collarbone.

It's ridiculous how your eyes steal their way to his left hand as soon as he rids himself of those skeleton gloves. To catch if there's a ring, a warning sign that he's taken.

He's not.

He notices – you're caught red handed. Caught like a fly in a web.

So you decide to go cold on him. Prove that it was just a sweep of a gaze, not a probe, a giveaway.

"Think you're smarter than your lieutenant?"

You're doing it now as he questions you, tries to bully you into submission. You guide your eyes right behind the top of his head, which makes it seem you're looking at him although you're not.

And it drives him crazy.

"Is that it?"

It's the first time you're here, in a silent office booming with his barks. But you know you're under scrutiny from now on. Caught his attention, just like you wanted to with that little stunt of yours.

"No sir."

You coat your voice with steel. Stainless, similar to the knife he has strapped to his thigh. You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle.

You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets. He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

You pull your gaze down to his at last, allow him to see the yawning hunger in your stare before you blink it away.

He draws air through the mask, and you wonder if the skull he's sewn onto the black textile came from a real human.

"Dismissed."

- - - - - - - - -

At some point, you notice that Ghost isn't just a good commander. He's a man on a powertrip, and a fucking bully.

He treats you different, like you’re made of glass. You’re a fresh arrival, but you’re also the only woman on his team, so you figure your Lt is just a good old “gentleman”. You’re always the last to enter a stormed building and the first to get back on the plane. You almost hope there would be some hazing, a rite of passage, but there’s only plentitude of cold shoulder, a roaring lack of trust in your abilities.

You pull more stunts. Clear his upstairs, take some bullets for him - and he doesn't even notice. It’s just that you didn’t know there would be a bomb planted in there as well. The warning comes right after you’re done cleaning.

"Wha' are you doin' - get outta there…!" He does forget to swear, and you notice too late that his accent grows thicker when he's worried. To the marrow of his bones, you would say, but that assumption would be even thicker than his Mancunian – to expect that he cares a single flying fuck about you.

He only wants to stay out of it. Doesn't want blood all over his hands, go to sleep with the knowledge that some kindly relatives get a death notification of a soldier that used to belong to him.

Maybe that's why he's the first to arrive - how the hell is a man so huge capable of being so quick? - to assess the damage.

"What the fuck have I told you-" he starts before he sees the state you're in. Half of your left sleeve blown and burnt off, revealing second-degree burns and jagged skin. The side of your hip bruised by shrapnels, some of the fragments tickling inside the flesh, ugly debris that will soon cause an infection or worse. You'd still say you got out lucky.

"I dunno. What have you told me?"

I did well, didn't I?

You lie there like it's nothing, back against a half crumbled wall and a spoil of bodies around you. Victorious, because your body is the only one that's still breathing. If anyone else had done this, he would praise them on a job well done, on the site, on the spot. With a lighter tone to that charred voice. Then call for a medic.

But inside, you're feeling cold. You disobeyed orders, so there will be no praise for you. Creeping shock takes you with it as the ice seeps further into your chest and your arms start to tremble.

By the look of it, you'd say he's infuriated.

But that doesn't stop you from laughing when you see the look in his eyes, the only part of him that shows skin, shows emotion behind all that gear and ombre of his mask.

Blood bubbles on your lips, coating pearl white teeth in crimson froth.

Shit… Things are far worse than you thought.

And he blinks. Scans what you can't force your own eyes to look at. The reason why you're gurgling blood.

A tiredness spreads through your limbs, so profound that it surpasses even his usual state of exhaustion. You barely discern how beautiful those pale, almost white eyelashes are against all that darkness.

Something inside you breaks, gives in to the cold. It allows his stare to pass right through. It grips your heart and soothes your wounds.

You almost tell him he would be a fine leader if he wasn't such an asshole.

"Haul me back, will you, Lt?"

He's struck silent, like the blood on your lips and the manic laughter had weaved a spell that binds him mute.

His arm twitches, disguises the jolt into a motion to reach and lift you up, not in a fireman's carry, but close to his chest; bridal style, like you're his heart's chosen one.

You tell yourself it's only the shock speaking. He carries you like this because of the gut wound.

- - - - - - - - -

"You tryin' to get yourself killed or you just wanna end your career?"

He sits next to your bed while you wake up, high on opioids and tied to an IV.

Nice to see you too.

He leans on his elbows, legs spread wide, and with an annoyingly soft look inside the sockets of that skull. It almost fools you: that he might actually care. And of course he does. Just not about you. Only about his own reputation as a superior who almost had their KIA count crawl up by one soldier.

"Hey? You still wi' me?"

You know you passed out in his arms. Only to wake up to the sound of his voice: in a bed less staunch than his embrace, as you notice to your horror.

You wonder whether he had ever even left you. Whether he had sat on that chair as a hulking sentinel for hours. Or days. The thought makes you more drowsy and content than the morphine running through your veins. The odd intimacy falsely makes it seem that this is not an interrogation, but a hushed discussion between teammates. Friends, dare say.

"What have I done wrong this time," you sigh, more as a statement; but he answers a question.

"You didn't obey orders."

"I did, I tried to get out as soon as-"

"Don't get me started on how ya ended up there in the first place." He raises his voice, an order for you to stuff your explanations up your arse. Under his breath, he continues. "A fuckin' poor excuse for a soldier..."

Bright, searing light flashes before your eyes as you hear what he never even meant to be a silent whisper for his ears only.

"You're a fucking bully," you croak a weak, dry rasp, voice coated with tension like a string about to snap in two.

And it shuts him up. For a second or two, at least.

"If that's what it takes to get you to obey orders then I'm happy to be one."

"Happy?" You feign a laugh, then wince when you feel a blunt pain between your ribs. "Do you even know what happiness is?"

He leaves.

- - - - - - - - -

"You feelin' better?"

He stops you at the base as you brush past him like he doesn't even exist. He's standing wide and tall as you turn, hands clasped in front of him. Over his cock, you can't help but notice.

Some distant voice tries to tell you that he only tries to offer you a truce. But even the idea of Ghost worrying about your health makes your stomach turn.

"Yeah, had a nice little vacation from your barking. I'm feeling splendid."

He gives you a once over with a gaze turned steel.

"You better quit with that tone, soldier."

"Or what?"

You take a step, and notice he has to fight some urge – to back away, or to take a step forward to meet you, you cannot say. It encourages you to start some shit. It makes you want to throw caution to the wind and rip out his throat.

"You better quit with the fucking bullying 'cause it doesn't work on me. Try something else for a change. Sir."

The hallway echoes with your piercing spurt of words. You sound childish, but he takes it all in like a sponge. Stands taller still, looks down at you like a dark, unwavering maw.

You expect more barking. Furious shouting, spit flying if it wasn't for his mask. You expect a slap – no, a fist to your face, or a giant hand clamped around your throat to remind you of your place.

You expect him to threaten you with being dismissed for fucking good.

But instead, the wide blown eyes get half covered with heavy lids, smudged paint running to the creases to reveal how pale his skin is under all that black. The liquid in his stare turns to solid glass, but not before you catch a flash of chutzpah.

- - - - - - - - -

The following week is horrid.

He treats you like a princess. And not just when you're alone with him – precious few seconds, barely a minute every now and then – but when you're at work. On the field.

He humiliates you in front of your teammates. Showers you with attention and praise.

Tries something else for a change.

You come back soaked and shaky, barge into your room only to send fingers down as soon as you're out of your gear and cleaned up. You think about his hands, the forearms covered in faded ink and bulged veins and the muscles that bunch as he tucks a gun against his shoulder. You think about his stare that locks gazes with you as he leans back against the hull of a plane, you replay his voice in your head, the thick smoke that loses all blaze and cools down into soft embers as he asks if you're in position.

Everyone else can hear his purr, everyone is thinking by now that the two of you got something going on. Everyone else gets unemotional distance and professional sharpness.

You come against your fingertips, so wet that it's difficult to rub through the afterwaves with precision. You're near the point of tearing up as you stifle the moans which threaten to echo all the way to the hallway, betraying your desperate longing for his cock.

You would get in position for him if he was just a tad nicer, if there was any promise of those cruel arms holding you after.

After only a few days of hearing his feigned care and concern through the comms, you march into his office.

"I'm fucking done with you," you slam the door shut so no one else has to hear how you unload weeks of frustration on him.

"Is that so?"

You feel like you're a storm, an entire tornado in one woman, but he remains calm, doesn't even bother to get up from the leisurely position he's in – on a chair far too small for him. Plucks you like a chord, nibs at you like a wound that tries to heal into a scar but is not allowed to.

"You just want me to quit this shit, don't you? Is it because I'm a girl?"

You hear yourself breathe, know he's thinking you're hysterical. He asserts dominance simply by not taking any part in this absurd little fit of yours.

"What the fuck have I ever done to you?"

You think it's a reasonable enough question, that he is a man who would welcome tearing down every last scene of this stupid charade too. But he merely stares at you, calm as he ever can be. Spreads his legs further apart, and you catch a bulge – it's difficult to tell, because he's wearing field pants and not jeans, but you can almost swear the motion is meant to disguise a swelling erection.

And even the concept, the idea of him getting off on you screaming at him and making yourself a fool after he has just humiliated you, causes something to crash and burn.

"You're just a psycho," you accuse, not being able to come up with anything better. His eyes narrow with a smile, tired pools of brown that tell you he thinks the exact same thing of you, especially when you're the one who's freaking out here. Getting wounded and losing your shit during the first few months on the job.

The look could be mistaken as affectionate, but you know he's just tired. The smile makes him look slightly drunk – and not with love.

"Then what does that make you?"

You blink and stare, blink and stare, just like you have always done with him when he's being a dodgy asshole.

"The fuck do you mean?"

"No need to play games with me, luv."

Your chest is heaving. Your heart is pounding. Saliva pools into your mouth before you send it down with a throat-wrenching swallow.

Luv.

You're caught, wrestling and strangling in his web, and you know it – he knows it.

"What games," you still try, try your all to make him break first although you already know that's not going to happen in a million years.

"I know ya want my cock."

"Huh- wha-..." You stutter like a moron at first, then find your English again. "Excuse me?"

"Want it so bad I bet you're wet even now."

It only adds to your shame that it takes you a moment.

"I'm out of here."

He laughs.

He fucking laughs as you go.

The waves of darkness follow you to the door. And the thing is, you're unable to leave. You march away with horror in your chest, with weak legs and an aching cunt and a burning heart, but none of it makes you turn the knob.

"You forgot something?"

His voice is molten, burning velvet, and your stomach lurches, your pussy throbs.

"It's right here if ya want it."

You quiver a sigh, turn slowly, the sound of squeaking boot soles on the vinyl floor being a fitting melody to how your will finally breaks in half.

Everything bends under his searing gaze, and you're still breathing like you had just run a mile, your heart pounding in your ears instead of your chest where it belongs.

"What happens if I do? Want it?"

Your heart can be heard in your question which shimmers between you until he drops one giant hand on his thigh, just a fingerbreadth away from the thick tent between his legs.

"You get fucked. Hard."

You're not smart enough to suppress the faint breath before it escapes through your teeth. The creases at the corner of his eyes deepen, they reach under the mask.

"What if I want you to be gentle?"

You sound pathetic. Weak. He doesn't buy it, doesn't understand that what you're asking is actually part true… No, your most secret wish.

"As if."

"What?"

"As if you wanted it gentle." He mocks you over and over again, and it pricks at the back of your neck, like an itch you cannot reach.

"You don't know shit about me."

"You're making it pretty hard to get to know you, sweetheart."

The term he uses eats its way through your skin like a worm, starts to fester like a spreading plague right beneath your heart.

"I'm not your sweetheart."

He cocks his head, only slightly. A gesture that reminds you of an anaconda trying to decipher whether the animal in front of them is a plaything or prey with teeth.

"Hurts my feelings when ya say that."

You don't take the bait: ridicule or point out that he has no feelings.

You just wait. The time of prancing and dancing is over, and you're tired. Worn out.

The tension of weeks, the restlessness of sleepless nights and adrenaline induced faps do not end with a seize of a wrist, a hungry kiss or him smashing you up against a wall. It all ends with him rising from the chair with a rustle of fabric and a creak of wood, and you hear yourself swallow.

I never meant to hurt your feelings, the little girl in you whispers with a puny voice, the girl who believed in fairytales as a child.

But the grown ass woman knows the man before you is only here to take what he wants, which is nothing more than to drive his cock inside your cunt. There's nothing romantic about it, he just wants to empty himself into you like he would empty a gun into unsuspecting flesh.

Still, you search for some emotion as he walks to you, some cue or clue that he has feelings too – and you want to slap yourself for it.

You square your shoulders and bring yourself down to his level, which means you have to transform yourself into a cock thirsty slut. Not that it requires much of an effort. It comes fluidly, far too easily, especially when he looks at you like he has already stripped you. Like he has done it a hundred, if not thousand times before: took your clothes off with his eyes. Traced the way your ass and breasts swell inside camos and field shirts and how they press against concrete as you take support for your aim or sit down on a plane, how the fabric stretches to curve and hug the flesh he wants to sink his hands and teeth into.

He stops a breath away, the breadth of his shoulders looming over you like a tower. A summit you can't reach.

You remember a name, something not uttered around the base, even if everyone knows it.

"Simon," you breathe, and he staggers – takes a ghost of a step as if answering a call. It turns into switching his weight on the other leg, but technically, he's closer now, close enough to drown into. "Why are you so mean?"

You can hear his teeth clash together as he clenches his jaw. You're walking on a tightrope, and you're faltering, far more wobbly than he. That question is tender meat, it allows him to see a glimpse of the girl, silken soft, innocent and plush, trusting. It causes a glitch, confusion he's not familiar with.

Then he lifts his chin, just a hair's breadth.

"Thought you wanted me to be."

It's almost sentimental, what he says. How he says it. Equally soft… Tentative, inquiring. He's still bone and steel and tendon, but his eyes and voice are not. They're a relic from a distant past, and you stand there, agape.

You dare to hope that there's more to this man, that he isn't here to retaliate. That you're not here to be punished. You risk a flutter of lashes as you scan his face – his bone charade, a prison – up and down, then swallow a decision with a solemn intake of air.

"Where do you want me?"

You're sanguine, almost flirty, but your offer hits nothingness.

There's no additional giveaway to him having any kind of longing, other than the longing to insert himself inside you and take whatever sick pleasure he gets from torturing you. The brief slant was just a fish hook to be sinked into your lungs and carry you to the shore for him to gut and roast. Feast upon.

"Desk."

It's too late to back down now.

Not that you even want to.

You stuff your heart down your throat before it spills up in tears, then slip past him, to the furniture he wants to be your marital bed.

He watches, shoulders rising with heavy breaths as you undress. Shoes and pants end up in the same heap you soon step out of. You enjoy the flash in his eyes at the notion of you wearing strings – something so impractical and uncomfortable yet sultry under all that durable, heavy canvas. A woman emerges from the waves of thick fabric meant for a soldier. Some Aphrodite.

Well, it's something for him to think on after this. Something to torment himself with while on missions if this is to be just a one time only slip.

The bulge in his pants is even more visible now. Demanding, and it adds to the warmth already pooling down below as you set yourself up on that desk, near the edge, for him to feast upon.

You don't spread your legs for him, though. You want to make him work for it. You simply shiver as the cold wood meets your skin, but even more shaky you get when he doesn't have to go through the same ordeal as you. He simply opens the front of his pants and tugs the fabric down, just enough to allow the hefty thickness to spring free.

And it doesn't exactly spring, because it's so immense that you have to do a double take. It simply vaults, bounces up once when seeing you on that desk. You throb at the sight of him, even if he doesn't give you much – he's still fully clothed, with his mask on, only cock jutting out and hands liberated from black gloves with bones printed on them.

His balls hang heavy beneath the veined weight of his cock, and you instantly think about how you're going to fare with at least a week load of cum about to be stuffed inside you. You've had a hand down your pants almost every night for weeks on end, while he has been staring at you with a thickening haze of lust and what seems to be a pair of heavily encumbered nuts.

You don't even notice how your mouth drops open in hungry astonishment.

"Have seen that look before," he brags, and you snap your mouth shut.

Fucking manchild.

He grabs the veined girth like it's his favourite weapon, something he's proud of, and your legs part by themselves for him to step in between. He doesn't have to work for it after all.

"Knew you wanted it," he rubs it in your face like someone who has passed an IQ test with genius scores.

There's nothing ceremonial about the way with which he spreads your lips with the thick tip, slides up and down to coat himself with your wetness, ample amounts of it. It only takes a probe or two for him to find the right angle, and you help him instinctually, offering yourself to him as he slips inside.

The hungry clench grips him immediately, making it a long, arduous journey for the both of you as he has to practically force himself in. But it's worth every thick inch, and your head tilts back with a moan.

"Yeah… Sing f' me, just like that," he cheers you on, and you feel a trickle of hot, wet cream run down your ass. Your slickness is probably running down his shaft by now, too. He adjusts his stance, comes closer, so close that you feel like you are sheltered by his upper body, the shoulders that form a warm cave around you.

And your body betrays you. His praise makes you tight around him, and he groans. You bite your lip at the sound while he takes his time with a few exploring thrusts, then settles fully inside, like you're his new home.

"Nice 'n' snug, just like I thought," he turns toward your ear, the edge of the jarred skull brushing your cheek and making you flinch. He sounds appreciative, relieved, like you're his little treat after a hard day. He's been thinking about you, imagining how tight you'd be for him…

"Didn't take long for you to spread your legs for me."

And he has to be an asshole about it. Has to tear you down a bit for every inch of vulnerability. Your teeth sink in the inside of your lip from the sheer heartache, a little too hard.

"Didn't take long for you to offer your cock to me," you cut back, tasting blood on your tongue. He chuckles.

"An offer you couldn't refuse," he muses, satisfied with himself.

His hand comes to cradle your shoulder, then slides down your back. It feels… feels like a caress. A fond, loving touch. Paired with the thickness spreading you open for him, it also feels like hell.

You grab hold of him, fingers curling around the slippery fabric of his jacket. He allows you no skin, and you try to hold on to the sleek shield you can't get past.

"No," you admit with a panted sigh as he slowly glides in and out of you. "Is this how you break in all your new recruits?"

He doesn't offer a witty comeback, but the silence is stretched further by the fact that he stops moving.

"’S not about breakin' in," he finally answers, resumes to thrust slowly. Agonizingly slow, like he wants to commit this moment deep into memory. Not a quick rut then, as you had expected, hoped, even. But the feeling of thick heat, the brush of his pelvis on your clit, has you clinging to him like he's your knight in shining armor.

And he's gentle with you.

Gentle.

It makes you want to kiss him, lift that mask just enough to have a taste of his neck, see his mouth just before it opens to devour yours.

"You didn't- ah- answer the question." Your shaky breaths must be music to his ears, but you decide that's all he's going to get. He knows now that you're jealous of his attention and his cock.

"Not here to answer your questions," he says, but you hear a lacing on top of it: amusement. "Just wanna hear your pretty cries."

Even if he's far more tender than you had expected, his cock soon pounds into you seamlessly. Fat, urgent. You stretch around him, hear the slickness and an occasional squelch guide him through the thrusts with ease. A lewd fucking that has his shoulders shaking as he reaches for a better hold of you, almost enough to call it a hug. His tightening balls hit against the hard edge of the desk instead of your flesh, but he doesn't seem to care at all.

"C'mon… Let's hear 'em," he coaxes, begs, almost, but you don't sing on command. Much less cry for a man who's tormented you for weeks on end.

"I'm not giving you anything," you utter while giving him loads of hungry cunt and tugging of clothes. If he was naked, he would have scratches all over his back by now.

"You drive me fuckin' insane. 'N' that's sayin' somethin'..." His hiss of an outburst causes you to recoil from him, or perhaps it’s the cause of his hands which thieve their way under the hem of your shirt. But he doesn't probe or squeeze. The touch is far from carnal, even if the palm hovers warm near your breasts. It settles against your ribs, a featherlight caress across the healed wound you suffered not too long ago because of him.

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes.

Fuck… You might open your legs for him, take gunshots for him, but you're not going to cry for him.

"Good, then we're both crazy," you whisper while trying not to choke on a flood. He hums – it's a rumble that rises from his chest and ends in his smoke-burned throat. And for every bit of weakness, he allows you a peek of his own fragility. It's a transaction, you assume, only used to trap you further into the abyss.

"You've dreamed of this, then?" The shadows sigh into your ear, ravenous.

"Mh," you nearly sob. You tell yourself it's just a noise that happens to erupt, not a confession. But he's the jury and the judge, decides your whimper is a full-scale avowal.

"Mmh…" he mocks with a satisfied rumble in your ear, overjoyed with the bare minimum of a moan you just gave him.

For a moment you fear you're dealing with a starving narcissist. He's praise-starved, love deprived, but good at what he does, and you feel yourself clench around him again. It's an increasing grip this time, not a throb or a suck. The first sign of an approaching orgasm, and it drives him over the brink far too soon.

"Fuck– I'm close," he pants, slightly alarmed. "What about you luv?"

"Not yet," you lie, and he believes you because it dips right inside his deepest fear, like a finger poking an open wound.

"My cock's not good enough for you?"

He discloses something precious: women are usually writhing in his arms by now, but you're not screaming, you're not crying and coming. You're not coming at all, because he's too greedy, too lost in the solace of you.

It's kind of sad, how fiercely you've masturbated at the thoughts of him, only to get the real thing and have it end too soon. You want to surrender and lean back on the cold desk, show him how good you can be as you wrap up around him and make lots and lots of noise just for him, only for him…

But your fingers find an opening, they steal their way under the mask and trace his blood heated neck, and you know he's not going to last – and you have to tear him down while he's at his weakest.

"It's good enough..." you give him the truth and a Judas kiss, knowing he will gobble it up like cake. Slowing down isn't going to do shit, the man is a split second away from heaven, and you tell him what's the matter with a whisper.

"...but you're not."

He comes right then and there with a throaty moan, the most agonized wail you've ever heard leave him. His back arches as he tries to bury himself deep, sweat breaks upon your fingertips from the shame and fury – caused by your words or the fact that he came before giving you your peak, you can't tell.

You feel him throb inside you, like a pulse of a powerful heartbeat before his shoulders cave in, rendering him fragile. A crumbling colossus, too heavy to bear his own weight.

He allows himself only a breath or two. They break upon your skin, somewhere between neck and shoulder, the humidity of his torment nestling in the valley behind the collarbone where he usually shoves knives in. Then he withdraws like a wounded soldier, leaves you emptier than you were before you even knew him, leaves only a fat trickle of combined cream and cum behind. It begins a steady trail down your perineum, ends up on the desk, like a proof that this is all you two are good for.

You're on display, your destroyed and hungry cunt winking against cold air, mourning the loss of his thickness. Your skin aches for the callus of his palms, the touch of them far more reverent than you had ever imagined.

He tucks himself inside his pants without sparing a single glance your way. An injured animal that needs to seek shelter to lick his wounds.

You feel terrible pity, a sinking fear and a blast of guilt upon noticing you might've been wrong. You want to apologize, not as a heartbroken, scorned woman – but as a girl who only wanted everyone to be happy.

"Simon…"

He zips his pants – an audible hint meant to tell you that he got what he wanted, and nothing more. It's like witnessing a giant's limp, and you want to fall on your knees and beg forgiveness.

The voice that follows cuts deeper than the bullets you took for him.

"Dismissed."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x female reader

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astraystayyh · 1 year

Note

i love anything to do with domesticity with skz

Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ!!!

Chan : painting your nails together

i can't stop thinking about how excited chan was to draw little shapes on his nails :,)

so one day when he sees you bringing out a bottle of nail polish, he asks to paint your nails for you

you blink at him and he starts fiddling with his ear nervously

he's like "nvm" but you giggle, pulling him by the hand towards the floor

you both sit in there and he places your palm on top of his knee

his tongue would poke against his cheek in concentration and you can't help but kiss him because he's so ADORABLE

which in turn becomes a kiss after each painted nail

he's so proud of the finished product

he's clapping all excited and he looks so endearing this way

you make a mental note of asking him to paint your nails more often

you paint his nails in return and now you are sporting matching nails

so cute

Minho : cooking with him

You love cooking with Minho

You don't do it often because you are both busy

but when you do have time it's one of your favorite activities together

you move seamlessly around each other in the kitchen

you don't talk lots because you are busy with your own tasks

but your hands brush against each other

and he places his hand on your lower back to grab the pan next to you

or you kiss his shoulder quickly while you're on your way to the fridge

just subtle touches here and there,, like a silent "i love you"

sometimes when you are tired, he makes you sit on the countertop while he cooks for you

you rant about whatever's bothering you and he hums, offering advice when needed

and you also liked watching him cook

he looked very beautiful in his element

and it was always gratifying to eat something you both prepared together

Changbin : bringing you a glass of water

now this might sound so silly

but Changbin is very adamant on making sure you are healthy

and i see him bringing you a glass of water throughout the day and not leaving till you drank it all

like you'd be watching tv and he's suddenly in front of you with a glass of water

or you're just brushing your hair and he's like DRINK!!!!!

or he'd place one on your bedside so you'd drink it first thing in the morning

he might also buy those 3L bottles with encouraging words on them

and whenever you finish drinking he'd grin so brightly

and he'd plant a big kiss on your lips

"you are me so take care of yourself" type of energy

Hyunjin : brushing your hair for you

when you are tired or sick, the thought of brushing your hair is just draining

and hyunjin picks up on your low moods

when you leave the shower and you just sit on top of your bed staring at nothing

hyunjin comes up behind you, hairbrush in his hands

he'd place soft kisses on your shoulder blade

before gently sectioning your hair and brushing it

he'd be so careful while untangling your knots

making sure not to hurt you

when he's done, he'll loosely braid it for you

before peppering your face with kisses

he's just so gentle :(

you'd brush his hair too for him

and when you are done he'd lay his head on your lap

and you'd run your fingers gently through his hair

while he dozes off because your touch is so calming to him

Han : midnight errands

running errands with han at night is just so fun

you both go there with no list planned

you just pick up whatever seems appealing to you

because you are too lazy to cook dinner but you are also hungry

so you'd start placing random food items onto your cart

you'll eat them while watching movies later

will sooo play rock paper scissors to see who'll pay

he always looses too

he WILL whine but he actually doesn't mind

he loves paying for your food

when you are done, you'll climb onto the supermarket cart

and han would push you around while you giggle so hard

then it's your turn to spin him around

until he's begging you to stop because he's so dizzy

always ends with him giving you a piggy back ride home

while you clutch the bags of groceries in your hands

you'd sing on your way home as if you are both drunk

but it's just the giddiness of your love for each other

Felix : cutting up fruit for each other

When felix starts gaming he's just gone

like expect him to be in his own world

sometimes he loses track of time and he doesn't eat for hours

you started cutting up fruits and bringing them to him in a bowl so he'd snack on them

the first time you did it he blushed so hard because he appreciated the sweet gesture

then it became a habit of yours

he started pulling you onto his lap

so you'd both eat the fruits together while he games

you'd feed him pieces while eating some too

then he picked up on this habit of yours

and now whenever you are studying/working too he'd place a bowl of fruit on your desk

he then kisses your forehead and goes on with his tasks

it's just your silent way of taking care of each other

and you both appreciate it a lot

Seungmin : folding laundry together

You'd make a little date out of it

bringing the basket of clean clothes to the living room

and starting up a cheesy drama

you'd fold your laundry while watching the show

legs crisscrossed on the couch and your thighs pressing agaisnt each other

and you'd both make comments about how cringey the main character is

but you still love watching

it was your way of spending more time together

sometimes you'd turn the tv show off and you'd tell each other about your day

ranting about whatever went through your mind

i also imagine you starting silly debates while folding the clothes

like "is it cereal before milk?" or "do you wear both socks before putting the shoes on?"

it'd be your little personal unwinding moment

and you started to look forward to it each time you did laundry

Jeongin : putting on skincare together

this man slaps toner 7 times to his face I'm still not over it ANYWAYS

you'd both meet up in the bathroom every night

your skincare would be nicely lined up

and then you'd both start doing your respective routines

while a random song plays in the background

it will turn into an impromptu karaoke because the bathroom has a nice echo

he'd tease you for your voice cracks and you'd roll your eyes at him

but he really looked forward to these moments with you every night

he knew that whatever happened throughout the day, he'd be there with you in the end

sometimes when Innie is tired, you apply his skincare for him

"7 times? really?" you ask him amused and he nods, "yeah that's why my skin is so nice. keep up"

if you are ever too tired and you end up crashing on your bed directly

he'd be there with a makeup wipe

gently removing makeup from your face

and placing tiny kisses on your nose

he's in love your honor

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cillianhead · 6 months

Note

Cillian married to high libido wife

Yes yes yes yes!

Thank you for your request <3

In Your Car, I'm A Star || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, vulgar language, sex in a car, unspecified somewhat large age gap between Cillian and reader, general adult content ahead. I'd also like to warn that this is a bit wordy and rambly and probably poorly written but I hope you enjoy it anyways!

18+ Minors DNI

Insatiable little thing, you are, Cillian always said. Ever since you two had first met you couldn't keep your hands off of each other, the mental and emotional connection was there, of course, the love was real, and that made the physical contact so much better. His hands over your body, cock in your mouth, hands in your hair, you sitting in his lap... it didn't matter what you were doing, you just had to be touching him at all times.

You got married after a year spent together, and you'd go wherever he went, Cillian never wanted you to leave his side, he was madly in love with you, you were his muse, his everything. You two were devastatingly in love, two twin flames, you were meant to be together. No matter the age gap or what the public thought about you and how much younger you are than Cillian. Cillian didn't care, he just loved you for you.

Now Cillian being an older man, sometimes he can't handle your high libido. At first in your relationship, it was ridiculous how much sex you two were having, it was a constant. You'd go to work and then you'd see him and your clothes came off within a blink of an eye and you'd milk Cillian dry and then you'd still be begging for more. You've done it in every single room of your home, in his car, in a public park, and in other morally questionable places that you'd rather not discuss with anyone else but him. You've slowed down a bit but you're both at a healthy at least twice-a-day sort of thing. How could you not want to constantly ravish him? You have him all to yourself, completely wrapped around your finger... or maybe you were wrapped around his. He had learned ways to tame you like a wild horse, ways to get you to calm down like stuffing you full of his fingers, letting you ride his thigh while he worked, shoving his cock down your throat to mute your bratty requests. You always got what you wanted though... how could he ever deny you, his sweet little wife, of what she so desperately craved?

Now you were sat in an award ceremony, restless, knee bouncing up and down. A deep maroon gown was your outfit, pearls tightly clasped around your neck, you were dressed elegantly and stood out amongst the crowd, especially when you sat next to the one and only Cillian Murphy. He wore a sheer button-up, in complete black, he looked incredibly mysterious and honestly, you were ready to pounce on him like a jaguar would to its prey. Unfortunately, you were surrounded by hundreds of people, most of whom were some sort of important celebrity figure and you knew Cillian would hate to make a scene.

"Show's almost over, sweet thing," Cillian whispered in your ear, his hand slipped onto your bare thigh, in between the slit of your crimson dress. "Then we'll get outta here..." You knew he could feel your hungry eyes on him all night.

He hadn't touched you all night long- wait that's actually a lie, he'd eaten you out to settle you down a bit before you got to the venue but that wasn't enough. It never was with you. But the feeling of his fingers caressing the skin on your inner thighs made you feel like you could cum right then and there. Cillian continued to suggestively stroke your sensitive skin as the night went on. People would walk over to greet Cillian, but his hand was covered by the cloth of the table so no one could see his hand gripping onto your thigh in annoyance of having to talk to someone who wasn't you. He didn't stand up, he just remained seated, nodding along and smiling as politely as he could to this person just trying to make conversation.

As soon as you got the signal that you could leave, Cillian grabbed your wrist and pulled you protectively into his side, guiding you by your lower back out of the event and towards where he had his car. It was all too swift for you to truly process, having him push you down into the passenger seat before he himself sat in the driver's seat. You watched him as he leaned over to put the car in reverse, the way he looked back out at the road, one hand on the headrest of your seat, so focused and oh so sexy.

"Cillian..." You whined, he was driving way too slow and your home was way too far for your liking. "I need you now."

"I know," He smirked at you briefly before sticking his eyes back on the road. "Trying to get us home as fast as possible, love."

"No," You complained. "Need you. Right now."

Cillian glanced at you with an incredulous look before he swerved over to the side of the road, a bit too reckless and at this point, it didn't matter... you just needed to be fucked. It was a somewhat secluded area, a dimly lit backstreet that only the occasional passerby would walk at this hour. "Get in the back." Cillian hummed cooly, checking himself out in the rearview mirror as you slipped into the backseat, spreading your legs for him with anticipation.

"Cillian... hurry..." You whispered, he was combing through his hair, occasionally making eye contact with you through the mirror before he sighed and stepped out of the car. Casually strolling over to your side of the car. Cillian opened the car door, crawling into the backseat with you and connecting his lips with yours as his fingers trailed up your shaky legs. His touch was like a drug, you couldn't get enough of the feeling of Cillian's skin on yours, no matter how little or how much you got of it.

The kiss was wet and sloppy, tongues thrashing together, teeth biting down on each other's lips. It was like you were racing to see who could consume each other faster... harder... deeper. Cillian's hand reaches up and unzips your dress, the straps falling off your bare shoulders until he tugged it off of you completely. Naked and horny in the back of his car.

"Fucking hell," Cillian gasps out at the sight of you, jaw agape as he eyes you up and down. "What am I to do with you? Hmm? So fucking beautiful." He leans in again, attaching starving lips to the hot skin of your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin. "I'm the luckiest man in the world." You just smiled bashfully, Cillian was incredibly affectionate, especially verbally. He always told you how he was the luckiest man in the world or how you're a goddess that needs to be worshipped. You felt like it was the other way around.

You grabbed ahold of his coat, pulling it roughly off of him. "I love you in this shirt, Cillian..." You whispered, tenderly rubbing the palm of your hand over his chest. "So pretty." He just looked at you, eyes deeply filled with a wonderful concoction of lust and love. You knew that look, you'd seen it a million times; his lips parted, panting heavily, eyebrows knitted together, eyelids hung heavy, and pupils wide. It was the look of love. A look that said 'Take me, I'm yours'.

By now, you had straddled him, pushing him up against the backseat and unzipping his pants, you wanted to keep him in his shirt, you wanted to admire the view. In the backseat of his car, you slipped his cock out of his dress pants, the dirty act turning you on even further as you stroked him slowly, getting off on teasing him.

"Stop your teasing," Cillian grunted, eyes squeezed shut as he bucked up into your fist. "I know you need me just as badly as I need you, baby."

"Mmm," You caught your lip in between your teeth, rubbing your clit on the head of his dick before slowly sliding down on him. "I wish you could always be inside me, feels so good."

"I know, honey," Cillian leaned his head into the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths as you began rocking your hips back and forth. "Ride me, baby, that's it... good girl..." He moaned loudly and desperately, hands gripping onto your hips with a sense of urgency, helping guide you back and forth on his hard cock.

You threw your head back, giving Cillian a show, tits bouncing right in front of his face and fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders. The windows fogged up and the car rocked back and forth with each rough movement you made.

"Fuckin whore," Cillian snarled, growing closer and closer to the edge himself, head hazy and eyes watching you intently. "Can't believe how fucking horny you are all the time, can never get enough of me, can you?" He tapped your cheek with two of his fingers to get you to respond.

"No, just love you so much... I want... you all the time."

"So cute," He chuckled, you hung your head low with embarrassment at him calling you 'cute'. "My pretty girl, hmm.... my angel girl, I love you." He praised. Your hands slid up your waist and groped at your tits, fingers twiddling your nipples, making you moan further. There was no doubt that if anyone were to even just casually walk by they could tell what was going on. There was no point in hiding it now.

"God... fuck..." Your eyes were squeezed shut, mewling at the way his hands held your body and the sounds of his fucked out gasps for air. "Want your cum inside me, please!"

"Y'know I'll give it to ya, sweetheart, you've just gotta go on and take it from me."

You immediately dove in and kissed him, mouths open against each other, not really kissing, just sucking in each other's air. You felt spurts of hot cum shoot up into you as you began unravelling yourself, moaning with satisfaction at the feeling of him filling you up.

"Come on, that's it," Cillian mumbled in your ear. "So good... fuckin' so good to me, baby love."

He coaxed you through your orgasm, knees giving out around him as you fully sank down on his cock that still weakly spat his seed into you. You bit down on his neck, a tear slipping down your face, probably further ruining your makeup as your cum seeped out of you.

You sat there for a little longer, panting, coming down from how hard you came. "Thank you... Cillian."

"No need to thank me," He chuckled, pressing a loving kiss to your temple before pulling you back by your hair to take a look at your tired face. "Look so pretty after you fuck me, my goodness, I'm so bloody lucky." "Oh hush," You shook your head, biting your tongue and grinning at him coyly. "You're so sweet to me."

Cillian kissed you tenderly, hands cradling your head as you showed all your love and devotion to each other in the form of a kiss. "Let's go home and rest, yeah?" Cillian hummed, you nodded as you slid off of him. In unison, you both let out your own whimpers of sensitivity.

By the time you got home, it was around midnight or a little past midnight. You both immediately went up to your shared bedroom and into the lovely en suite connected to it. You found yourself sleepily sitting in the bubble bath, back pressed up against Cillian's bare chest as he hummed a love song softly into your ear.

"Cillian." You whined, clearly drowsy but also whiny about something else.

"Hmmm?" Cillian's hands stroked your waist innocently. You knew it was innocent, he didn't intend to turn you on but it was too much for your little mind to handle... you and your loving husband... naked in the bath together... his hands on you... it couldn't be a better time in your sex-crazed mind to be horny.

"Please touch me," You whispered. "Please."

"'M already touching you, sweet girl." He whispered back to you.

"Hmph!" You whined again, acting like you were giving him the cold shoulder and pulling away from him. You liked playing hard to get. "You know what I mean."

"Such a spoiled brat," He sits up with you this time, pushing your wet hair to the side and pressing kisses to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "You really need me again? Hmm? Your cunt is so fuckin' greedy, so cock-hungry, aren't you?" He growled, fingers slipping down and pinching your clit harshly.

"Fuck... please..." You moaned in response. "Please... I need you always, Cillian." "Fucking insatiable," Cillian groaned. "That's what you are. How is an old man like me supposed to keep up with you?"

"Not an old man..." You sighed, leaning back and resting your head on his shoulder. "Please... baby... Cillian... just need you to make me cum..."

"I can do that." He sucked a bruise onto your collarbone, slipping two fingers into your pussy.

"You're the only one for me, Cillian," You cried. "Only one who can touch me like this... only one who can make me feel this good."

"I know, love," He said smugly. "All mine, isn't that right?"

"All yours." You agreed. He kissed your jaw happily at your response.

He slipped a third finger into your hole, thumb rubbing pleasing circles on your clit. You writhed around in the hot bath, mewling like you were being murdered. Pleasure shot through you like electricity, Cillian's lips on you were too much, your mind going into overdrive as he whispered dirty things in your ear. And oh fuck, the feeling of his tongue licking up your neck quickly brought you over the edge, you spasmed pathetically, squeezing his fingers that still stroked at your g-spot. You couldn't really tell because you were already submerged in water but you were pretty sure you just squirted all over him.

"Good girl," Cillian nipped at your earlobe playfully, slipping his fingers out from your overstimulated cunt. He licked his fingers clean, moaning like a madman at the taste of your cum on his sticky fingers. "Sweet girl."

"More." You demanded in a whisper. "Want more." "'Course you do," Cillian laughed, kissing your cheek. "Let's dry off, then I'll make sweet love to you in our bed. How's that sound, Mrs. Murphy?"

"Sounds good." You hummed happily.

I'm back! I hope you enjoyed!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

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pathetic-sapphic · 7 months

Note

Could you please do somnophilia with Lady Dimitrescu, fem reader receiving?

You Just Gotta Let It Go

Kintober Day 12: Somnophilia

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Alcina hums quietly, her hand caressing your hair as she admires your slumbering form. The way your eyelashes rest upon your cheeks and the soft movement of your chest as you breathe has her enamored. You talked about this, she suggested experimenting with somnophilia before, with you sleeping while she has her way with you. She chuckles as she remembers the eager way in which you agreed.

Alcina couldn't help it, you always looked so soft and calm and comfortable. Yes, she loved seeing you move in a seductive and sexy manner, she loved seeing you dressed up in fancy lingerie but what really got her going, was seeing you happy, healthy and relaxed. She loved taking care of you and this was just another way for her to ensure that her sweet girl is treated well. Since this was the first time that the two of you will be trying out such a thing, Alcina decided to go slow and gentle.

Careful not to rouse you, Alcina leaned down to press a soft kiss to your cheek before her lips trailed down to your neck, her hand sneaking down to slowly take off your sleeping shorts. Her other hand sneaked underneath your shirt which was already bunched up to your breasts and started toying with your nipple. She relished in the little hitch in your breath that occurred as soon as she touched you, before lowering her gaze to your slightly damp panties.

Not wanting to disturb you too much, Alcina opted for pushing your panties aside rather than taking them off and started softly caressing and massaging your folds. You let out a quiet moan which made her turn her head to you before letting out a relieved sigh upon making sure that you're still asleep. Alcina spent the next several minutes enjoying the way your soft body moved and trembled, reacting and giving yourself over to her touch even in your sleep.

You never ceased to surprise her, even at your most vulnerable, you knew her touch so well, and so did your body. There wasn't an ounce of resistance in your movements, your hips lazily following the movement of her fingers as you whined in your sleep. Seeing that you'll soon be approaching your limit, Alcina laid down on her stomach before she started eating you out, her tongue moving in light but broad strokes across your folds.

You woke up to the feeling of warmth and pleasure in your nether regions. Blinking drowsily, your gaze went down to where your lover was eagerly lapping up at your juices. Still sleepy but feeling yourself on the brink of a climax, you tangled your fingers lazily in Alcina's hair, urging her to continue. Upon realizing that you've woken up, Alcina let out a hum in acknowledgment before continuing her ministrations. As soon as she heard your moans picking up, she thrusted two fingers into your pussy and curled them up.

You came with a whisper of your wife's name, thighs tiredly trembling around Alcina's head. Once your orgasm died down, Alcina looked at you with a satisfied smirk before leaning up to give you a kiss. You moaned at the taste of your release on her tongue before pulling away and looking at her with hazy eyes. Alcina gave you a loving smile, her fingers coming up to caress your cheek and puffy lips. She pressed a kiss against your forehead, ''Go to sleep, my love. I'll clean you up and join you in bed soon, okay?'' You nodded, laying back down and closing your eyes as the feeling of a warm towel being dragged against your sweaty skin and the sound of Alcina's sweet praises lulled you back into a dreamless sleep.

song i listened to while writing: i need some sleep by eels

#resident evil village #lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #kinktober

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theemporium · 1 month

Note

NO DRINKS FOR SVECH??? oh absolutely not! lets give him a lil dirty flirtini! "Let's flip coins. Head, I'm yours. Tails, you're mine."

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

19. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.”

“You look pretty lonely over here.”

You paused, the rim of your glass hovering just at your lips as you turned your head to find a familiar face grinning at you. In all honesty, you were surprised it had taken him as long as it did to come over, considering the fact his eyes had been glued to the second you walked into the bar.

“You been watching me?” You asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Maybe,” Andrei murmured, his cheeks rosy and pink from whatever drinks he had been nursing since the win earlier that night. It was a big one, one that deserved the boys heading out to a local bar and pretending like they didn’t have practice the next day. “Thought you’d come and say hi.”

Against your better judgement, your eyes flickered over to where the boy had been stationed for most of the night. Most of the players were sitting around or near the booth, along with a flurry of girls in a mix of jerseys that had followed them from the rink. You tried to not roll your eyes at the sight.

“You looked busy,” you answered eventually with a halfhearted shrug.

Andrei was grinning when you looked back at him. “Not fun when my favourite girl doesn’t talk to me, though.”

You tried to ignore the way your face heated up at his words. “You trying to sweet me up so I buy you a drink, Svech?” It was meant to be teasing, funny even. Something to cover up the fact the boy had more of an affect on you than you cared to admit.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d let me buy you a drink,” he retorted, stepping a little closer until his arm was leaning against the counter and his body was mere inches away from you.

You cleared your throat, taking a long sip of your drink.

Andrei tilted his head to the side. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No,” you lied before turning to face him again, his eyes watching you with focused intent. “I just…”

“You just?” He prompted, fingers lightly tapping against the wood of the bartop.

“I just thought you would have more fun over there,” you answered eventually, nodding in the direction of the booth where the majority of the team was still sitting. “I was probably going to leave after this drink.”

“It wouldn’t be fun over there,” Andrei said with a shake of his head. “Not without you.”

“Andrei,” you sighed, his name heavy on your tongue. Because he did this. He always did this when the two of you were drunk. He would come over, make you feel all warm and fuzzy with his flirty words and cute accent and then you would feel like an absolute idiot in the morning when he acted like nothing had happened. “I can’t keep doing this.”

It was adorable the way he frowned in confusion. You hated yourself a little for thinking it was adorable.

“Doing what?” He questioned, his lips turned downwards.

“This. Us. This friends with benefits situation,” you confessed, your chest feeling oddly tight as you managed to spit the words out. Every cell in your body was screaming for you to stop, to not rip away the chance to feel his body pressed against yours again. But your brain knew better, your brain was being logical. “It isn’t healthy.”

Andrei blinked. “You think we are just friends?”

Your gut twisted a little. “You think we aren’t?”

“I–” Andrei looked a little bashful, and it was oddly endearing to see. He seemed to contemplate something, his eyes watching your expression closely before he spoke again. “Let’s make a bet.”

You paused, thinking you misheard him. “What?”

“A bet. You know, with a coin,” he continued, and hints of that self-assured smirk started to appear as he stepped forward. His hand cupped your elbow, keeping you close as the small distance between you closed and that familiar warmth of him overwhelmed your senses.

“A coin,” you repealed, still a little lost in his touch to fully compute what he was saying.

“Yes,” he nodded, smiling down at you with that grin that made your heart lurch a little in your chest. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. “I—”

“You weren’t just a friend to me,” he spoke up, a little more serious as he lifted his other hand to gently cup the back of your head. “I just thought…I don’t know. I thought you knew. There was no one but you for me. From the start.”

You blinked, your chest feeling heavy for a whole other reason now. “Oh.”

“Can I buy you the drink now?” He asked, that playful smile of his spreading across his face as his thumb lightly brushed against your cheek. “Or do I have to find a coin to flip?”

“You did say it was a bet,” you teased.

“If that’s what it takes, malysh,” he murmured, his gaze dipping down to your lips and, for a second, you thought he would lean down to kiss you. But then, he was stepping back and you found yourself instantly disappointed as he continued to walk backwards.

“Where are you going?”

His grin widened. “To find a coin and make you mine!”

You snorted. “I might win.”

“I’m not complaining.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #andrei svechnikov #nhl #carolina hurricanes #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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rachalixie · 1 year

Text

the best man - part I

your best friend's getting married, and you're the maid of honor. minho is the best man. you're just trying your best to not let him get under your skin. pt II

warnings: lee minho x she/her!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 1.4k

one could say that lee minho was a thorn in your side, but he wasn’t enough for that. he’s maybe a bump. a small bump in the road you’ve been driving on, a constant presence but not enough to make a difference to your wheels if you drive over it. enough for you to notice but not enough for you to swerve to avoid.

he’s friends with your friends, so naturally, he’s around a lot. ever since your best friend got engaged to his best friend, jisung, he’s been around even more. in a few short months he’s gone from someone you nod at from the bar at group outings to the person you bump shoulders with when wedding planning in a tiny kitchen. from a person who’s number you didn’t have saved in groupchats to having a personalized contact complete with emojis. with him as jisung’s best man and you as the maid of honor, you’ve frequently been on opposing sides of friendly arguments about the cake, the flowers, the music that should be played. you’re convinced that he disagrees with you just to rile you up, he’s never passionate about his side and always sways to what you and your friend want in the end, he just does it for the entertainment.

you wish you found it annoying instead of endearing. that would make things simpler.

but it was in planning their surprise bachelor-slash-bachelorette party (you knew those two would never be able to separate enough for an entire night) that you got to know him well. in between choosing the types of shots you want to serve and the perfect cheesy crowns for them to wear, you learn that he has three cats that he loves more than himself, he’s really sweet underneath his teasing exterior, and that he’s a gentleman that always opens doors for you and gives you his jacket when he sends you home at night after being there for longer than you planned for. he likes to cook and he’s a dancer who once had big dreams but found his true passion in teaching it. he likes to work out but complains about it every time and he’s kind of the biggest dork you’ve ever met.

he grows on you like moss, the healthy green squishy kind, slowly taking over your roots until he’s become a part of your day to day life. you’ve come to expect daily weather updates, selfies with his cats, and mindless banter from the time you wake up until the time your head hits your pillow at night.

the actual night of the party goes off without a hitch, with drinks flowing and sappy speeches that have you wiping your tears discreetly to not ruin your makeup. you’ve both curated the perfect playlist, invited only the essential people you know the almost-married couple would want there, and made an entire table of snacks that got devoured before you can blink. you meet minho’s eyes from across the room several times throughout the night, a hidden meaning you can’t place hiding in his gaze before he looks away every time. it leaves you with a feeling of longing that you don’t let yourself think about for too long. the maid of honor and the best man? that’s too cliche, even for you.

you don’t see him again until the day of the wedding, where you both leave your respective dressing rooms at the same time to get ready to walk down the aisle and take your places at the altar.

“you clean up well,” you tease, running a finger down the lapel of his tuxedo. it’s midnight blue, the color that jisung has chosen to compliment the flushed pink of the bridesmaid’s dresses. it compliments his honeyed skin almost too well, the contrast making him look like he’s about to walk a red carpet instead of the off-white runner lining the wedding hall floor. the flower buttoned to his chest matches the ones in your bouquet.

“it’s been known to happen from time to time,” his tone is teasing but his smile is soft as he takes you in, winking at you when you raise an eyebrow at him. “you don’t look so bad, yourself.”

you look down at your flowers with a small smile, still not knowing how to take his compliments after all these months.

“shall we?” he holds his arm out to you and you take it, calming your nerves before stepping through the doors to the sea of people in the room. he walks you down the aisle, steps in line with yours despite his legs being longer, and it feels right, being there with him.

he drops you off at your designated spot and you’re glad; you’re not sure if you would have remembered where to stand otherwise. you’re both beaming as jisung walks down the aisle, steps a little too eager and smile a little too wide. it warms your heart how happy he is to be married to your best friend. the same best friend who next glides down the aisle in a show of practiced elegance, steps timed perfectly to the wedding march playing.

you meet eyes with minho once they’re situated, blown away again by him in the new warm lighting that he’s shrouded under. his hair is glinting in the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling, and his smile despite being on display for everyone feels like it’s just for you. you’re so distracted by him in his damn tuxedo that you almost miss when your friend starts her vows. by the time she’s done, both the bride and groom are nearly sobbing, and jisung has to choke out his own vows before dragging her into a watery kiss before the officiant can tell him to. the whole room breaks into laughter, softening into awh’s when he pulls back with a heart shaped smile.

the rest of the day is a blur. you take photos, make speeches at the reception, change into comfortable shoes, eat the cake that’s just been cut, and by the time you finally sit down to watch the first dance you feel like you’ve been standing for days. is this what it’s like to get married? doesn’t seem like it’s worth the trouble.

“dance with me?” minho says, interrupting your internal monologue and making the smile return to your face. his hand is held out towards you, palm up, and you take it in yours without a second thought. a chance to dance with the most handsome guy in the room? no way you’re going to pass that up, even if your feet feel like they’re on fire.

he guides you to the dance floor, stopping a few feet from the happy couple and bumping his free fist against jisung’s shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. you twine your hands together behind his neck and smile at him.

“all this planning and i never learned how to slow dance,” you say, voice low as you try not to let the embarrassment wash over you.

“don’t worry, darling,” he tugs you closer, the name he calls you bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i can lead you.”

and lead he does. he twirls you around the dance floor, the bottom of your dress swinging around your feet as he gracefully makes it look like you know what you’re doing. you let him move you, your limbs pliant as he sways your hips in his grip. the two of you somehow look like the most practiced couple there because of him.

the song switches to something faster and more upbeat, but he doesn’t let you go. in fact, he pulls you in even closer, whispering in your ear about how he loves the song before guiding you to dance with him again.

the night ends with the two of you in the hotel elevator, on the way up to your respective rooms on the same floor. without warning, his hand goes to hit the stop button and the elevator jerks to a still, making your heart beat race.

“what the hell?” you almost yell, too shocked to be mad. he moves into your space, placing warm hands on your cheeks.

“am i reading this wrong?” he whispers, eyes flickering between your own and your lips. it falls into place like jenga bricks, messy and out of your control but not completely unexpected - this attraction between you? he feels it too.

“no,” you whisper back, melting as he finally seals his lips against yours.

turns out the maid of honor with the best man isn’t too cliche after all.

part II

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids scenarios

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shogvnate · 11 months

Text

Insomnia. headcannons

re8 ladies with a s/o who's an insomniac

contains; mother miranda, mia winters, alcina dimitrescu, donna beneviento, bela dimitrescu, cassandra dimitrescu, daniela dimitrescu.

‎

warnings; none.

‎

🐦‍⬛ mother miranda

honestly she's also an insomniac herself so it's not really a problem for her

if you're not busy, she'll ask you to accompany her while she's doing late night experimenting.

she's… surprisingly domestic?

she doesn't talk much when it's late (she doesn't talk much in general though), and you don't either so it works out.

sometimes forgets that you're not a mutant like her, but when she remembers she'll help you fall asleep. She'll find a way, she's a scientist, after all, a mad one at that. Nothing is impossible with her.

entertains you with her crows if her experiments get too dangerous for you.

the type to make you play chess with her over a cup of tea.

you have zero idea how to play so she teaches you.

???

how did the two of you end up playing uno??

…

why are the two of you playing go fish now?

🪡 donna beneviento

also an insomniac

but she's not as noticeable because she wears a veil and no one really sees her face.

late night reading, not healthy for both of your eyes but who cares?

donna is surprisingly active at night (not like that).

living with her includes hearing the kitchen being rummaged at 3 am only to find out it's her trying to cook pasta.

either that or she's trying to find her missing tool.

she can be forgetful sometimes and you are too, but remember, two negatives makes a positive! (you two still haven't found where your blue pen went.)

makes you and herself some soothing lavender tea.

she wears her hair down when it's late, and she's fucking gorgeous goddamn.

the sight of her alone makes you sigh dreamily.

you don't need sleep, you're already living the dream.

angie bites your toes if you look at donna funny for too long.

🍷 alcina dimitrescu

for the love of all that is holy, please stop trying to scare the maidens, it's 2 in the morning.

she's very tired.

she's the opposite of an insomniac, her line of work makes her really cranky at night.

technically she doesn't need sleep, but it's refreshing so she does it and hates when she's disturbed.

just imagine having to be a single milf girlboss with a massive dump truck, must be tiring for her, damn.

sorry. anyway, she'll find a way to help you.

perhaps you need medicine? she can give the Duke a quick late night call and make either Cassandra or Bela fetch them (because she doesn't trust the maidens will come back alive if she sent them this late.)

sits up with you until you're tired, but all the time she'll look like someone who hadn't had a blink of sleep since 500 b.c.

you decide to help her sleep instead, you don't mind.

so you ended up being cuddled by her while she's in her deep sleep, yay!

❄ mia winters

she's tired, not like alcina kind of tired, but just tired.

at some point in the night, she noticed you're not sleeping next to her, again, which made her wake up and get you.

you make her feel safe and when you're not there she gets reminded of her Louisiana days, which, isn't fun.

depending on the day, she can either haul you back to bed for her to cuddle or ask you whether you need something to calm your nerves.

stays up with you, but falls asleep in the end.

cuddling on the sofa with her is heaven so you don't mind.

in the morning you'll be so sore and stiff though, because when she cuddles, she's not even a koala, she's literally merging with you.

her warmth usually brings you to sleep, it's likely her general comforting presence that helps you.

buys you medicine to help with your insomnia if you ask so, but she'll do it tomorrow.

for now, she'd like to rest.

🦇 bela dimitrescu

contrary to alcina, the three of her daughters, and especially, bela, are insomniacs.

they do random shit at 1 in the morning.

one time bela got dragged into having a karaoke session, which meant you also got dragged by the other two sisters (read: daniela).

it's fun though, you got a good laugh from them.

which is great considering your insomnia is making you more and more mentally exhausted.

once they all let their energy out, bela can finally get some time with you.

bela may or may not bring you to her bedroom, depending on whether or not her sisters will tease her for it.

doesn't know how to make tea, so don't hope she does or ask her for it.

silence.

it gets really awkward when she's just sitting there staring at you and expecting you to just get bored and sleep.

you end up having candlelit dinner? breakfast? at 3 am.

🗡️ cassandra dimitrescu

as mentioned before she also has insomnia. she sometimes still manages to sleep though, but it usually happens at day or at random times.

after the whole late night shenanigans, usually she's the most tired because she matches daniela's endless energy but also bela's crankiness.

she enjoys laying down doing particularly nothing so expect her to lay on the same bed as you while staring blankly at the ceiling.

when asked she usually takes a few moments to respond, and as it turns out, she accidentally slept with her eyes open. kinda neat.

she's also like daniela, she can't sit still.

may make random small talks before she just… had it.

so she decided to ask you to spar with her in the armor room.

if you're tired, she'll suggest doing something else like taking a walk around the castle.

one time she's feeling generous, she actually asked you to waltz on the grand hall.

she still remembers the steps despite being dead for God knows how long but you absolutely have zero idea how to waltz.

and you're losing your shit whenever she smiles at you softly.

how uncharacteristic for the murderous vampire who gouged a maid's eyes out for looking at you wrong.

needless to say, your nights are always productive with cassandra.

🌹 daniela dimitrescu

with daniela, it's like gambling your sanity.

there's half the chance that she's feeling hyper that night, or the other being that she's feeling hella tired and doesn't want to be disturbed by the maids. (meaning if she sees someone messing up while she's in this mood, there'll be one more barrel in the cellar.)

either way, none of them meant anything good for you.

drags you to the library to read her stories, more often than not, she's asking you to read her fairy tales which is super valid. I also love them.

makes you play with her hair while you're reading.

very unpredictable, no wonder she's dimitrescu's wild card.

she sleeps when her energy runs out, which may take a long time.

she sleep talks, mostly slurring out your name or whining about how cassandra is always so unfair to her.

softly snores

you always end up being the one cleaning her mess if a maid died that day.

1K notes · View notes

railingsofsorrow · 3 months

Note

hiiiiii!!!! i saw your requests were open and i’m so excited i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you would be willing to do a coffee shop au of spencer x barista!reader? i feel like it would be very fluffy :) <3

a healthy caffeine addiction

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer finds a new coffee shop near work and he may be going there not just for the coffee...

pairing: s.reid x gn!barista!reader

w.c: 3K

warnings/content: a lot of flirting; mentions of case related stuff but you blink and you miss it; fluff fluff!! (you asked for it); swearing.

A/N: hi! I used gender neutral pronouns because you didn't specify so I thought it would fit best. the coffee shop is called “enchanted brewing” just do you don't get confused. one more thing! I mixed two of his best eras, glasses + long hair just because I was feeling a little silly. thank you for the request <3

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

[requested] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh, look, it's boy genius again.” You muse upon seeing a certain long-haired FBI agent next on the line. He's wearing a purple tie today which checks out your theory that it's his favorite color because he's always wearing something purple. It would be funny if it was an unconscious choice. “What's your order today, Dr. Reid? Maybe some coffee with your sugar?” You ask as if you hadn't seen him earlier in the day and had repeated the same thing.

You've met Spencer Reid when he walked in one day as the coffee shop you work in was still closed. He hadn't seen the closed sign. After spending five minutes straight apologizing, you delivered him his coffee order promising he wasn't bothering you. Especially if he was a cute guy with glasses. But you didn't say that last thing out loud, of course.

He's been coming to Enchanted Brewing for two weeks now. You have his order memorized from each early morning that he strides in through the entrance, his satchel hanging from his right shoulder as his bright honey-brown eyes scan through the menu on the wall. He always did that in spite of ordering the same thing from the first day.

Your timeline is slightly offbeat today. Your favorite costumer usually comes in on his way to work, once a day. Except that today he showed up twice. You're not complaining, you're currently trying to hide how happy you are that he appeared right on time for your lunch break.

“I want something different,” he says, adjusting his glasses as he looks at you with a timid smile. “Surprise me?”

“Oh.” You quickly recovered — did you? — from the spell he had you in and moved to prepare his drink. “I'll definitely surprise you, boy genius.” You already had one in mind. Your boss shots you a glare from the other side of the counter where he's delivering an order for a regular. He had reminded you of your lunch break an hour ago but you ended up attending clients and time passed by. You mouthed that it was your last one before lunch and he rolled his eyes with a knowing smile.

You take Spencer to a table outside. The day was good enough to not worry about a storm interrupting your afternoon coffee. Not yet, at least.

“So.” You utter after taking a bite of your sandwich. Spencer is sipping on the surprise he asked for and you are no profiler but your guess is that he liked it. “Aproved?”

“One hundred percent approved. What is this?” He makes a sound of satisfaction as he drinks it again. A smug grin reaches your face. “It's so good.”

You hum, “It is. From how much you like your sweets, I thought you'd like this one. Though, it barely tastes like coffee.”

Spencer silently agrees with you. “What's it called? I can taste caramel.”

“It's a caramel macchiato,” you reply, sipping your watermelon juice. “Caramel is all you can taste, boy genius.” You laugh at the way his cheeks turn pink at your nickname. Ever since he told you about his PhD's and his age. “To what do I own the pleasure of seeing you twice in a day?”

He takes his time putting the cup on the table, fingertips grazing the sides in half circles. When he meet your gaze, you were already staring, but you have the decency to look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. Thank god you were done eating or else you'd be blushing and attempting to swallow your food. Not a good view.

“Um, I... I didn't have a case today and I finished paperwork early so I thought I'd come, um.” He stammers, straightening his posture and exhaling. The middle of his forehead creased a bit and you find it incredibly endearing seeing him trying to figure out the words.

“...you were craving caffeine so you came to the best place near your work?” you complete his sentence with a playfully smirk dancing across your lips.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaims, clearing his throat realising his voice had failed. He offers you a sheepish smile, to which you respond with a grin of your own. “Yes, and... well.”

“It's okay,” you tap your fingers against the hard wood. “You can admit that I make the best coffee.” The convinced stance you had made him chuckle, eyes traveling over your frame discreetly. He could only hope he was being discreet.

“I wanted to see you.” He admits. “And for the coffee, of course.”

Sometimes you had the impression that he did know the effect he had on you, either that or he just didn't want to see it.

“Of course.” You nod as if it was obvious. “Sure.” He wanted to see me? Me?

He pulls his glasses up again, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He was about to say something when he jumped on his seat, groaning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to go,” he says, disappointment lacing through his tone. You brush off his apologetic expression.

“That's completely understandable. Duty calls.” Both of you stand up. You still had half an hour left of your lunch, you guess you would have to resort to play your mobile game instead of flirting with a handsome FBI agent. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Hopefully,” Spencer picks up his work bag and the coffee cup you thought he had already finished. The corners of his lips raise a bit when he catches the boy genius written in a messy handwriting on the cup. “It's not a local case...”

“Oh,” you try to hide your lack of joy. “Alright. Be careful then.” Spencer nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “And don't betray me for another barista, boy genius.” That got you one of his short laughs that made his eyes crinkle in the edges.

“Never.”

──────────────

Spencer was back three days later. The case was a hard one, one of those were the unsub decided to not make their lives easier and kept moving across state lines to hide. He was keeping a victim hostage in the trunk of his car and thankfully, they were able to save her in time. Everybody was granted a day-off to get some rest.

It's not like Spencer was married to his work, in fact, he could enjoy a little alone time in the comfort of his home with a book and some coffee to accompany his quiet reading.

But that's the problem.

Routines are hard to create and they are hard to let go of. Ever heard the saying “old habits die hard”?

Ivan Pavlov researched about classical conditioning. According to him, you have a stimulus and a response in a given situation. It is likely that you'll keep repeating an action if it proves to be beneficial to you. If you like doing it, you'll barely notice it became an habit.

He's been visiting your coffee shop almost every day for the past weeks and that is an habit he's gotten quite comfortable with.

Therefore, in order to not disturb his routine that is very very important to him — honestly? Spencer can't handle changes — he drives down to Enchanted Brewing. The soft jingle of the bell alerted of his entrance.

Spencer gets in line. There's seven people in front of him, maybe because it's lunch hour and all of them are rushing to get their orders. Spencer waits. He still hasn't heard any flirting remarks or winks sent his way and he's not sure if you are not behind the counter today or if his lenses are just really blurried that he can't see your pretty face.

“Afternoon, sir. What would you like to order today?”

You are definitely not behind the counter and he's slightly confused before listing off his order. The clerk notes it down, then he stops midway, studying Spencer with narrowed eyes.

“You're boy genius?”

Spencer blinks, startled. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish and really, what is that question? How is he even supposed to answer that? You call him that, so is that a yes? Is he supposed to say yes—

“Sorry,” the guy says, shaking his head with a laugh, “they told me about you.”

“Oh.” Spencer doesn't know what to say, thankfully, he doesn't have to because he carries on.

“You two have kind of a system going on, right?”

“A- a system?”

The clerk's polite smile widened into a smirk. “Well, yes.” He says slowly. “You order the same thing and they make you an entire difference drink, isn't that it? They explained it and that's how I got it.”

“Uh, yes. I think so. But you don't have to—”

Your coworker waves him off, “I was just making sure you were the guy, really. They left a special order for you in case you appeared while they were still sick.” Spencer's concern is visible through his face. “Sore throat, I asked them to stay at home this week. You know, they don't care about day-offs so I forced it upon them to have it either way since they're sick. Really stubborn, that one. I'm Tim, by the way."

“Spencer.” He gave a little wave while introducing himself and was quick to add. “Are they okay?”

Tim turned to look at him in the middle of the beverage making. He nodded. “Yes, they'll be back in a day or two. Nothing serious.”

Spencer lets out a sigh in relief, leaning against the counter to wait for this order to be ready. He hopes you get better soon and that you were taking proper care of yourself. If he knew, he would have brought some jell-o and mint tea, they are great remedies to soothe a sore throat. After he paid for his surprise drink, he sat down on a table outside, there wasn't a lot of people and he enjoyed his alone time while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Maybe if he had gotten your number, he could ask how you were. But he didn't because Spencer doesn't think. He doesn't have game as Derek says, whatever that means. It's not his fault that he can't think straight around pretty people, is it? He can't help it!

He left the café that day with another great drink to add to his list and his mind set on one thing: he's going to ask for your phone number next time he sees you.

──────────────

Every person in the whole freaking world decided to appear at Enchanted Brewing today. Nothing wrong with people. You love people, really!

But your back is aching and your hand is cramping from how much you used the hand mixer. God, you needed to lay down for a month and wake up maybe never.

A costumer just left and you finally turn the sign to closed. Thank god. You're finishing cleaning up the tables when you notice the silence. Being around people all day long can be a little exhausting, especially if you have to yell a name in order for someone to pick their order. Your recently recovered sore throat does not appreciate that.

You're alone tonight. Tim left early to run some errands and you're in charge of closing. You don't mind, it's actually peaceful to close the shop and make your way home. You don't live far and the streets aren't too busy nor totally empty.

Boy genius didn't show up again.

You know his job is demanding, he's occupied being a hero and using his brain to solve difficult cases and catch bad guys. You feel bad complaining about your work, knowing what he does. He must get exhausted daily.

You miss him. And it's weird, you're not one to get attached easily. To be able to call Tim your friend took about half a year, you just don't trust people fast. Spencer just feels different. He makes you feel comfortable, despite not having the experience of hanging out with him outside of your work, he's that kind of person that has a safe ambience all over him. You could be wrong, you're aware of that, you don't really know the guy. He's a regular, he loves your surprise coffees, he's got a cute smile and an awkwardness that is endearing. You don't know more than that, but you'd really like to.

After placing your uniform in your assigned locker, you check one more time to see if everything is in place before leaving.

The doorbell scares the shit out of you and you grab the first thing you see to defend yourself, which is your phone.

It's closed. You turned the sign. The lights are off. Who the fuck is entering a coffee shop when all of the lights are off?!

“Uh, what... Why are you threatening to throw your phone at me?”

And there it is, the man you cannot stop thinking about materialising in front of you. Not a burglar.

Your shoulders slump in relief and you lower your phone back to the counter. “Fuck, genius. Don't do that. Why do you always ignore the closed sign?”

“Sorry,” he responded, bashfully, realising how the situation came out. “I saw you were inside and I just came in, didn't thought it through.”

“Mm. You scared the shit out of me.” A soft smile formed on your lips and it soon became a wide grin. “God, you're so...”

“Annoying?” he offers, grimacing as he buries his hand on his overcoat. Both his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink, reminding you of how cold it is outside. “Sorry, I'll just— I'll leave you be.” The regret on his features is what puts you out of your dazed stare.

You sprint over to the door, blocking his exit. “I didn't say that.” You let out with bated breath. He halts right in front of you, big doe eyes staring down at you in surprise and you're beaming at him again. “You could never be annoying, boy genius. I was about to say amazing, actually.”

Morgan and Penelope are two people that keep making his life miserable by the amount of nicknames they make up for him. But this one? This one he doesn't complain at all. Boy genius. You could call him that every day and he would never dare be annoyed by it. The reason is because he loves your voice — which he realised it's a bit hoarse right now — but that's besides the point.

That is a nickname he missed dearly.

Were they about to call me amazing?

“I have a confession to make.” Emily is one hundred percent right when she said his IQ is slashed to 60 while around pretty people, because now that he's seen you he can't seem to remember what he came here for. “I betrayed you.”

You raise a brow, surveying him with amusement. “Oh?”

“Yes. I, I ordered a caramel macchiato on a cafeteria in Fairbanks.” He elaborated, lifting his hand to brush his hair behind his ear. You wanted to find out if it was as soft as it looked. “It wasn't good. I don't know, it wasn't the way you made so I didn't— I didn't though it was good.”

Your chest swells for a reason you're not sure.

“What I'm trying to say is that... Your coffee is better. No. It's not actually that—”

“Breathe. You're turning red like a tomato.”

That made him impossibly redder. He pushed his glasses up his nose, swallowing hard.

“Spencer,” you say, dropping your flirty facade in fear of him combusting in front of you. You nudge your finger against his hand, timidly. “I won't bite. You can talk to me.”

“Okay.” He croaks out, playing with your fingertips. And without looking directly at you, he lets out a sigh to muster some courage and says, “I like you.” He manages to say, pretending as if the way you said his name didn't affect him that much. You're smiling at him and suddenly he's fourteen again with butterflies in his stomach because his first crush just greeted him in class.

“I like you too,” you confess in a whisper. You're too close yet so far.

Spencer shakes his head, lifting his gaze to yours since he was staring at your hands. “Not like that. Not in a I like-your-coffee-and-your-flirting kind of way.”

You fear you're misunderstanding him and you don't want to make a fool out of yourself, so you remain quiet, getting lost in the twinkle in his brown eyes provided by the street lamp outside.

“I like you in a... I-want-to-spend-more-time-with-you way.” Finally, he says it. Could he have explained it better? Yes. Is he able to do it? Not with you looking at him like that. “I-Mm, I mean, I love your company and spending time here but I would like to take you on a date.” You were supposed to ask for her number first! What are you doing, you idiot?! “If you want to, of course.”

You can't hold back the giant grin taking over your features. “Boy genius,” you drawl out, doing what you've been fantasizing from the first moment you've seen him: touch his hair. You pull a stubborn strand behind his ear and from the way he almost flutters his eyes shut and leans into your touch, you assume he likes it. “When I said that I liked you, I didn't mean as a favourite-cute-costumer-of-the-month kind of way. But in an I-think-he's-cute way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. Preferably, somewhere where we don't drink coffee.”

The crinkles around his eyes show up as he chuckles, nodding. “Okay, yeah, we can definitely do that.”

“Cool.” And you can't stop smiling like an idiot.

Spencer not only got the number but a date with the cute barista. He'd say that's very cool.

#reader insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #requested #spencer reid fluff #this is the fluffiest shit I've ever written #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine

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cursedkeyboard · 3 months

Text

BIG BROTHER'S HERE ● Older brother!Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

You've been having nightmares about monsters lurking in your closet for a couple of days now. Suguru, your older brother, knows something is wrong with you.

Pairings: Platonic Geto Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

Warning: Not proofread. Expect mistakes and edits!

If there's one thing Suguru had always been sure of, is that he knew you

Your parents had you when he was nine, most ten, so innocent and excited to be a big brother

He got to see you when you were just a bundle of hospital cloth, loud whines, and large eyes

No, really, your eyes took half of your face

You were the cutest thing he'd ever seen

From that day on, Suguru had sworn to be the best big brother to ever exist

He'd teach you everything he knew, help you with anything you wanted, and always protect you

Family and friends even called him your "second dad" whenever they saw Suguru putting you to sleep or feeding you or playing with you or...

Yeah, the kid loved being glued to you

Sure, he still had friends and his own interests like any other kid his age

But Suguru would rather be caught dead than to give up chances to spend time with you

He even begged his parents to let him take you outside in your stroller for sunlight and fresh air

It took then a little bit, but they eventually allowed him

Their neighborhood was safe, there were rarely any kidnapping cases around, and they only let him once you were one and he was eleven

As you grew up, Suguru definitely honored his promise by being the closest person to you

Always near, always helping, always nurturing

He knew your favorite type of baby food, the exact warmth you liked it at, the blankets you favored and the toys you never allowed anyone to take

Suguru would take naps with you on his chest, sing you to sleep when you woke up screaming, and play with you until you exhausted yourself

He was always there for you, especially when your parents were busy

So much so, in fact, that your first words weren't mama or papa

It was gu–gu

Yeah, some could say you were just being a baby and babbling, but he knew better

Because you had looked up at him, grabbed his hand with your tiny ones, and said it with a big smile

Don't tell anyone, but he definitely cried while hugging you

You'd eventually be able to say Sugu, then Suguru when you learned to roll your tongue, but Suguru would always hold that memory dear to his heart

And so, years passed quickly

Perhaps too quickly for your big brother, who would always feel his heart ache a little when his baby sibling didn't need help to do basic things anymore

But he was happy, overjoyed, that you grew into a happy and healthy child, always so energetic and ready for any play or challenge

Of course, you two had your disagreements at times, because kids will be kids and Suguru reached puberty when you were four and learning how to be bratty and contrary

However, compared to so many other siblings in the world, Suguru was proud to say you were definitely the closest of siblings

There wasn't a single thing he didn't know about you

That's why, now that you were seven and learning taking a more introverted personality like his own, your big brother immediately knew something was wrong with you once you started getting sleepier throughout the day

Blinking slowly, barely eating, nodding off whenever the two of you watched cartoons

And, now seventeen and keenly aware of so much evil in this world, Suguru immediately sought to fix the problem

The moment Suguru picked you up from school he knew he was going to talk to you about what was happening. It didn't seem to be the kids or teachers in your school, since the moment you walked out and saw him you were smiling and happy like aways, that rush of energy still in you from playing with your friends.

"Suguru!" You called out for him, quickly saying your goodbyes to the kids around you and running towards your tall big brother who stood out in the middle of all the waiting moms. "You're early!"

Suguru picked you up the moment you got close enough, making you squeal and giggle as he settled him on his broad back, smiling softly at how your small hands settled on his shoulders.

"We got let out earlier," He explained and waved a quick polite greeting at your teacher before leaving, beginning the trek back home. "Satoru wanted to go to the arcade but I missed my baby today."

You giggled again, a sound that never failed to make Suguru relax and forget all his troubles, if only for a moment, and rested your head in the crook of his neck. "'Toru is a big baby, not me!"

"Hmm, maybe you're both babies?"

"No, not me, 'Toru," You shook your head and Suguru avoided people walking around easily, being so tall and nimble had its advantages. "I'm getting bigger and bigger, and Toru acts like a child when I do not."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

Instead, Suguru started asking you about your day like he always did and, like he expected, you couldn't even make it through half of your rant about the teacher taking away the yellow sharpies from everyone before falling asleep on his back, completely out.

Which, that in itself wouldn't be bad, but you used to spend hours after school talking his ears off, drawing, and insisting to watch cartoons. He sighed and moved you to his front, hugging you to his chest protectively, so worried he could feel a headache stab the back of his head.

Suguru was a special grade sorcerer, top of the class, and the most reliable when it came to problem solving skills, but most of all Suguru was the best big brother there is and he was going to fix whatever was wrong with you.

Like he always did.

That day, after you napped for a couple of hours, Suguru sat you down on the couch once he made sure you ate and showered

While he detangled your hair from the mess it had became in School, he started slow

Asking you if there was anything going on these days

If you were having any troubles in school

Maybe a bully or a new interest that was keeping you up?

It took a bit of digging, because Unfortunately, you two were very much alike

Which meant you also hid your anxieties and problems, even if Suguru always ended up finding out anyway

With a couple of deep breaths, you explained why you hadn't been able to sleep these days

Every night for the past week, you were getting nightmares

Nightmares about monsters, hideous creatures that would suck people's happiness then eat them bit by bit

And every time you woke up gasping and afraid, the door to your closet was open the slighest bit

Hesitantly, like you were afraid of being called a liar or made fun of, you told you brother you swore you saw something inside

Watching you. Waiting for something. Hungry.

And Suguru?

Not once did Suguru stop gently brushing your hair, keeping his hands steady and movements soft, which had a calming effect on you

But god, he could feel his body shaking under his skin

Fury threatening to bubble and spill over

Because those vivid nightmares, your exhaustion, the way you always looked so drained each morning...

He knew exactly what that meant and he couldn't possibly be angrier

Instead of scaring you with the face he was doing, Suguru started drying your hair, and once you finished talking, he hugged you close, comforting you

"It's alright, little one, I got you, big brother's got you."

That night, Suguru easily convinced you to have a sleepover in his room, full of your favorite stuffed animals and blankets

And when you were all tuckered out after talking tons and watching your favorite movie, snoring softly under Suguru's heavy covers, the teen left his room quietly

Slowly, he made his way towards yours

Shadows followed his every step, licking at his feet and dancing with each breath he took

The air shifted as he made his way inside, closing your door behind you, like it knew he was there

He pulled the door to your closet open, his movements ghostly as rage made his purple eyes almost glow in the night

The curse inside, a weak, puny thing he hadn't been able to sense, trembled under the taste of his erratic cursed energy

So pathetic and small

Fucking inconsequential

That thing dared to mess with his baby sibling

Make his baby sibling lose sleep as it sucked happiness and energy

So he did it slowly

Ripped it in pieces, bit by bit, until it was but a splatter on the floor

That night, he went back to his room after washing his hands and face, heart beating fast from the hatred coursing through his veins

Suguru lifted the blankets and tucked himself by your side, pulling you gently until he was curled around you

Then, only then, as you slept fitfully in his arms, safe and peaceful, he was able to calm down and relax

He would do better, grow stronger, kill every curse that dared to step food in a 100 mile radious of you

But Suguru knew there needed to be change

Curses had to disappear completely, one way or another

And Suguru would find a way, if not for the safety of his friends, then for yours

He would never let anything hurt you

No matter the cost

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archangeldyke-all · 2 months

Note

Weird AU idea I had randomly:

What if reader and Sevika were like..co-stars on an adult romcom or romantic drama as the two leads? They spend a lot of time together on set and some of their scenes get a little heated (they ofc have a dedicated intimacy coordinator to help). And things just...lead to another off set.

What if Reader is the intimacy coordinator responsible for helping Sevika and her co-stars feel comfortable and they just....hit it off, off-set or after shooting ends. Everyone ofc remains professional on the job, but ya know...not unheard of for folks to start dating after working together 😏

LOVEEE

men and minors dni

seeing people in various states of nakedness is literally your job.

it's vital that you remain professional and responsible while you're working-- both on and off set. you need to be an advocate for healthy boundaries and responsible film-making, there's no space for you to be flustered or uncomfortable or god forbid, turned on.

and usually you're incredibly good at it.

whether it's men or women, whether you find them attractive or not-- you keep your cool and keep it responsible no matter what.

but this is sevika.

sevika, whose interviews you watch before bed-- just to hear the lovely timbre of her voice.

sevika, who has been your celebrity crush for years.

sevika, who's filming her first ever intimate scene, and has no idea how it works.

you find out who you're going to be working with a week before, and you spend the entire week in denial, confident that if you ignore it, you won't freak out about it.

but then you meet her.

she's even more attractive in real life, sleepy from the early morning call-time, hair a little messy and eyes a little droopy, make up free and cuddled up in a white robe. it's like seeing an angel.

the second you introduce yourself to her, closing the door to her trailer behind her, sevika drops her white robe and puts her hands on her hips. when you turn back around, you get an eyeful of a completely naked, completely unbothered sevika. you nearly pass out.

"uh." you say eloquently. sevika blinks at you.

"you're the intimacy coordinator right?" she asks. you gulp, ripping your eyes away from her body to stare at the ceiling.

"y-yes. you don't have to... i mean, you can put your robe back on." you say. "it's just-- we're just talking today." you choke out.

sevika snorts, laughing at herself as she pulls her robe back on. you try to catch your breath as she casually pulls the belt tight and flops onto the couch behind her.

so, it's a rocky start.

and no, you don't jerk off to the image of a naked sevika that's been burned into your frontal lobe when you get home.

that would be completely unprofessional.

(okay, yes you do. three times.)

sevika's charming and funny and down to earth in a way a lot of the celebrities you work with never are. she's got the prettiest smile you've ever seen, and she asks you about your life and listens to your answers, and your crush only gets worse and worse as the days tick by.

you and sevika spend several lunches going over her own personal boundaries.

she's filming a scene with a man, which makes her cringe and stick her tongue out as she says it. (you have to keep yourself from squealing at the confirmation of her very publicly debated lesbianism.) she's not totally uncomfortable with it-- it's her job-- but she 'would like to keep it pg-13' where she can.

she's comfortable with nudity-- she obviously knows how good she looks-- but you explain to her that in scenes beyond the full frontal, she'll be wearing some coverings just to keep everyone comfortable.

she's fascinated by your job, constantly lobbing you with questions.

'what other movies have you worked on?'

'do pornos have intimacy coordinators?'

and then, inevitably, 'who's the hottest celebrity you've ever seen naked?'

this makes you choke on your spit. sevika raises an eyebrow at you as you hack up a lung, and when you finally catch your breath she grins. "me?" she guesses. you just huff and flip her off.

it's amazing watching her act-- she's insanely talented. she's funny too, just naturally, off the top of her head, always spitting out improvised lines that make you and the entire crew laugh. she's also a huge fucking flirt.

she's respectful of all the boundaries you outlined for her on set. always covered unless she's filming, talking frequently with her co-star about the script, triple checking before they film that they both agree with the direction they're taking their sex scenes. but that doesn't stop her from trying to get a rise out of you.

she claims she has no idea how to work the nipple pasties-- insists you do it for her. you've done it for plenty of clients-- sometimes the adhesives or angles can be tricky-- but you know she's just doing it to get you to touch her tits. it's in the way she smirks each time she asks, the way her eyes sparkle as she watches you nervously, shakily press the tape to her flesh, trying to avoid touching her skin at all costs.

she's insisted on taking all her lunches with you once she finds out that you tend to eat alone in your car. she'll tag along with you in the passenger side of your car, teasing you and fiddling with your radio and ducking in her seat when you pass by herds of paparazzi, as you drive the two of you to taco bell. she always pays-- 'i'm the superstar, you're driving a camry-- no offense.'

and she's always touching you.

never inappropriately, never without your permission-- but she's always got her hands on you in some way.

playing with a strand of your hair as you check in with her between takes. wrapping an arm around your shoulders when the two of you walk to your car. fiddling with your fingers in the back of a bus as the two of you and a few crew members ride to a local bar for drinks. each time, you stutter and stumble over your words, biting your cheek and awkwardly avoiding her eyes as she grins at you. she knows what she's doing. she loves it.

you assume you're just a pillow fluffer of sorts for her. just someone for her to flirt with between scenes-- a place for her to put all the residual emotions that filming a rom-com requires. it's happened before-- occasionally clients will need a bit of intimacy outside of the shoot to keep their romantic mood going all day-- and you're happy to receive a few flirty compliments and lingering glances in order to keep your clients happy.

when filming wraps, you assume that you'll never see sevika again.

you say goodbye to her with a hug in her trailer, wishing her luck in her career and hoping that maybe you'll have the pleasure to work with her again in the future. when you pull away, sevika's looking at you with a furrow in her brow.

"what?" you ask.

sevika bites her lip, and for the first time since you've met, she looks... shy.

"nevermind. 's stupid." she says.

you scoff. "sevika, i custom dye thongs to match various skin tones for a living-- i'm used to stupid." you say. she huffs.

"do you... i mean-- how familiar are you with the dating policies on set?"

"uh... not super? i can put you in contact with debbie from HR if you--"

"no nevermind. it's dumb."

you laugh. "having a crush on someone isn't dumb. you should go for it! filming's wrapped, so i doubt there's any hoops you'd need to jump through."

sevika bites her cheek. "i don't know if she'd be into me." she whispers, still not looking at you. you bark a laugh, and sevika's eyes dart up to look at you.

"don't be ridiculous." you say. "you're a fucking a-list actress, i know you know how hot you are, she'd be a fucking idiot not to be!"

"but it's... it's kinda been her job for the past few months to flirt with me."

"what?" you ask.

sevika's co-star is a man-- and he should be the only person flirting with sevika on set.

"i dunno. she's gotta touch me and talk to me and make me comfortable all day-- i don't know if she'd be doing that if it wasn't her job."

"sevika, who's been touching you? nobody's supposed to touch you." you say, anger bubbling up in your stomach.

it's your job to protect her from this happening, and you're starting to panic as you think about all the ways you might've failed her.

sevika huffs a laugh, and you blink at her. "it's not funny, sev, it's serious-- your boundaries--"

"it's you." she says. you blink. "i... it's okay if you... i mean it's basically your job to, like, take care of me, so it's cool if you don't--"

"me?!" you ask, cutting her off. sevika shrugs. "a-are you fucking with me?" you ask. sevika blinks.

"no?" she guesses.

"so this isn't some kind of prank ran put you up to because i told them you've been my celebrity crush since your first movie?" you ask. sevika's worried expression melts, a smug, self-satisfied smile taking its place.

"no." she says again. you sigh.

"o-oh." you say.

"so..." sevika starts. "i know you're all about boundaries and consent and stuff-- do i have to ask before i kiss you or...?" she trails off. you giggle, a little giddy as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"yeah. you have to wear that thong and the pasties to bed with me too." you tease. sevika laughs.

"damn, that's horrible. i'm not gonna be able to do any of the things i wanted to--"

you cut her off with a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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