#maybe. i don't really feel like its appropriate.
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I know I have like 5 followers and most of them have been inactive for years so I don't really expect this to be seen, and that's fine. I just really need to vent out into space about a bunch of things and somewhere that I'm mostly unkown seems like as good a place as any.
It's just, I feel so lost about everything. I don't know anything about what I want in life, what I even really like, what I could be good at or am good at. I don't even really think I know who I am. My memory is generally pretty poor so trying to remember my thoughts on things or what I did in the past is pretty hard unless I have specific things that can trigger certain memories around or someone else who was apart of it to remind me that it happened is at best spotty. I do have some points in that haze that stick out like shards of broken glass but all I seem to be able to do is get cut trying push them back like the coward I am. That's really what a big portion of it is I think. I'm just a coward.
The question wasn't really always there, at least that I can remember but I know it cropped up sometime around the age of 12-14. I tried to answer it once and when I gave the answer I'd come up with at the time to my parents it got dismissed so thoroughly that I tried to bottle it all away until I couldn't see it anymore. I think I still know the answer to that question, and I even think the answer might still be the same but letting myself take the path to answering it paralyzes me so much that trying to talk just closes a hand around my entire chest and squeezes until I back away in my cowardice. All those shards of intrusive memories of me asking in smaller ways about it in thoughts I get, just impulsive desires that the moment I try to reach towards them I pull back like I've just been shocked because every time I listened when I was younger I got in trouble for it. "It's okay to be different." "We don't judge people for who they are." I guess unless it was your own kid. Then it's "no everybody feels like that sometimes, you aren't different (you aren't allowed to be different)." I got so terrified of being "wrong" of my answers to questions that shouldn't have a wrong answer that i stopped letting myself try to ask them. I bottled it all up and strapped it behind a porcelain mask pulled so tightly that I don't even remember what it looks like underneath. It's so lost that I don't know if I can ever look underneath and see the person there for fear of what it might mean for everything else. Nobody knows who I am. People either have ideas of who they think I should be or they've only seen that mask and maybe some of the cracks at the edges where it's holding too tight. I don't even know who I am. I just make myself what I need be able to drift through without having to confront myself or anything else and I really don't know how much longer I can keep it up until I explode.
I know I'm still depressed but I've been off medication for years, it never helped anyways. It hasn't been until recently with some music I heard and somethings/people I saw that I was forced to confront myself that it all started to unravel around me. I was ok. Just ok. I didn't really feel anything about much of anything and was just coasting along letting it all happen. I had been stable if flat for years, not really living or trying but just going through the motions but even then I'm barely functional. It's like I'm pathologically incapable of intentionally caring for myself. I can cook and clean but I just can't bring myself to try more than the bare minimum to keep myself alive. It's all been at best I won't go out of my way to try it but if something happens I'm not sure I'd try to fight it. I had several attempts back when I was a teen. All I could do was fail at that too I guess.
Like I have no real skills or anything I can make a future out of. I'm just working a job that's enough to survive with a bit extra but it's only that. I don't know what I like and would even want to pursue. Things sound interesting but then I can never put in the effort to better myself. I can't really create anything, I see people creating things or doing cool projects and stuff and I just...can't. I don't feel like there's any spark of creativity really in me. I try and I can't visualise or see anything or make anything if I'm not following someone else's footsteps or just adding to something they've already made. I just feel like a creative parasite. I can't even decorate because I see decorative things and I can't place them visually anywhere in space, it's all so grey empty. It just leaves me feeling worse because I so fundamentally don't understand things like that that I can't even properly form an opinion about things. I can see art or listen to music that I like and all of that but the moment I try come up with something of my own no matter the medium it's all salt and ash on a field. It makes me feel so bad and so detached that I feel like I'm not even human or that there's something else even more wrong with me.
Thinking about all of this just makes me feel even worse because then I think of my girlfriend and I love her but like. What do I even give her? I want to be with her, I have rings and everything even a plan for when and where to propose but. Do I even deserve it? She doesn't deserve someone so drowned in their own cowardice that they can't even take care of themselves properly because taking steps towards asking why I'm like this forces me to step towards the looming shadow of asking who I even am and. I don't want to leave her because she's happy with me for some reason and I don't want to hurt her but she should have better than me.
I don't know what to do anymore. I just keep marching forward in an endless line forked by unpainted signs, pulling the straps of that damned mask tighter around myself as I just keep running from ever answering myself. I know the question I need to ask. I know the answer to that question. But I'm too much of a coward to see it through. Those intrusive thoughts and the actions I've taken behind closed doors from them. Things I should tell someone about so I can let out the pressure of all the secrets I've held about it. But I'm still too scared to reach out. I'm so tired. I'm tired of being fake. But I've been it for so long that im petrified of the idea of being real.
This is a really long post. Longer than I thought it would be. Probably longer than I'm really worth reading for. And I still found a way to be a coward and refuse to face myself in anything more than allusion
#depression#cw sui mention#cw sui ideation#cw depression#cw depressive thoughts#vent post#rambles#there are probably more tags that belong on this but I'm not sure which ones do#the big one is also stuck hiding behind my cowardice#i thought of a few more tags that are probably appropriate#tw sui ideation#trauma#maybe. i don't really feel like its appropriate.#like it seems like anything was so minor I feel like it shouldn't count
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man idgaf about what treville and richelieu have going on (mostly nothing) (they dont like each other but they work together a lot bc of their jobs.) (i guess treville holding onto a sense of honour whilst working with the cardinal is interesting but like that's not. thats not really those two having something interesting going on). lets talk about the king and the cardinal man.
#the way the king sometimes resents the cardinal's influence but is so easily manipulated to feel lost without it.#the fact that he'll openly acknowledge the cardinal wants him to rule unfairly and play favourites. with a fond look on his face#''i will disband their whole regiment if that's what it takes to make you happy. only please don't leave me alone'' with tears in his eyes#all of which was exactly what the cardinal was going for and he just gets away with it!#the queen finds out he was trying to have her Killed and she says yeah fuck you obvi but i wont tell the king tho bc he loves you ?#i'm not saying any of this is like romantic to be clear lol. it's just very interesting#i mean i dont think it can probably be categorised really. but im definitely not calling it that#it is super interesting though the way the cardinal needs to undermine the queen and place himself closer to the king to succeed in his aim#it would be somewhat appropriate for sure to say its kind of a parent-child relationship in some ways but that's definitely not all of it#in terms of the way the king relies on him and his guidance. but again thats not all of it and he's not a child. or not actually a child.#and i could say this about any of the relationships between men on the show but of course Because they're both men that means the#Possibility of it being anything but fully platonic is not something he can acknowledge and for that reason whether it is or Not there's#still going to be a level of repression and denial that just complicates things. even though/if theres not truly anything to deny#meanwhile honestly i think the cardinal is personally being normal about it even tho he's a freak about a lot of other things#i mean idk that was my impression. i am sorta-watching through s1 again so maybe i'll develop my ideas on that#anyway#me.txt#musketeers posting
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The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.
Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.
It is not in English.
Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.
...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.
So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.
I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.
Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.
And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.
I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.
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I NEEEEEED MORE STRIPPER!READER X SPENCER
fem, 1.2k
You and Spencer aren't dating, but he thinks you might be in the before.
"You're home!" you say, clambering at the door to slip out of your shoes. You throw yourself at him as soon as you're close enough, the salted caramel and sandalwood of your new perfume washing over him. "You're here! I missed you."
Spencer tries not to blush. He wishes you weren't so close —his hair is lank from two days unwashed, his five o'clock shadow obvious and embarrassing. If you notice anything unappealing about him you don't give the slightest inclination, your arms crossing over his back as you drive your face into his neck.
"I can't believe how much I missed you, Dr. Reid," you say warmly.
"I missed you too." Morgan would laugh at him for being this earnest, maybe comment on his lack of charisma, but Spencer doesn't know how else to show that he's interested beyond sincerity.
You step back but work your hands up his neck and into his hair, raking it away from his cheeks. "That's better. I can see you better now."
Spencer thought he remembered only horrible things from being a teenager, but he remembers this feeling, sweaty-palmed, heart-racing want. You tilt his head gently one way and then the other like you're following the motion of a wave, fingertips scratching in his hair, the sensation stirring the very pit of his stomach. No trace of tiredness remains on your face, only spritely joy to see him.
"That feels nice," he confesses. He's not weird about it, more friendly.
Your aswering grin tells him he nailed the casualness he was aiming for.
"You've been working hard," you say, tucking his hair behind his ears and dusting down his shoulders, "I can tell. You look tired."
"You don't. Short shift?"
"Is it weird that bad weather genuinely keeps people home? I guess they prefer their wives when it's cold."
"No, really? Who could ever pick the woman they married over you and those silver shorts?" he teases, peeling out of his sweater.
The shirt underneath is rumpled, but he doesn't care about that. Anything to be seen between you has been seen. Spencer has, unquestionably, seen you half naked. You've seen him in his boxers, so you're just about square. "Idiots, all of them."
You're staying with him again while a security company fits your apartment with the appropriate trappings. Or, that was the initial reason. Spencer went with you to assess after it was done, discovering black mould in the corner of your bedroom and spreading its evil way across the bathroom ceiling.
What is that? he asked, knowing what it was, hoping you'd at least pretend to be concerned.
That's fifty bucks off a month, Spence. Don't look so horrified.
"I missed you," you say for the third time in as many minutes. "And I hoped you'd be home, so I brought Chinese food for two."
You and Spencer change into pyjamas, and it's cliche but whatever, you look beautiful undone —he's not stupid enough to lie to himself about how he feels when you're wearing your little outfits, but he prefers this side of you a thousand times over because you like it better. You wear your prized baseball tee, white with blue sleeves, and a pair of sweatpants pushed up high on one leg while you ice your sore knee. He sits cross legged opposite, jabbing his chopsticks into one of your crispy spring rolls just to watch you gasp.
"Can I ask you something too personal?"
You rub down the length of your naked calf, sighing as some of the tension releases. You're more bruise than girl lately, splodges of tender skin patterning the inside. "What don't you know about me, at this point?" you ask.
Like it's a good thing. Like you're glad for it.
"Are you making enough money?" he asks.
You steal back your spring roll, answering him through rice paper and greens, "Kind of. Not tonight, but enough for dinner. I'll be okay."
"Did you think about it?"
You shovel through your waxy box of rice, shrugging. "I thought about it, but… it's not realistic. What office would take me? What drug store?"
"I could loan you the money while you apprentice, and get some experience, you could go back to school–" He says it all in a rush and you still knock him down.
"It's real sweet of you, Spence, it is, but I couldn't let you do that. That makes me your charity case, and not your friend."
"What else do you do for the people you care about?" he asks. Let them stay at a job they don't like, even if they're good at it, one that puts them statistically at higher risk for femicide or assault?
"I wouldn't need a loan, Spencer, I'd need more than you have," you say gently. "I'd have to start my life from scratch. How would I pay rent? You couldn't afford to keep us both."
"You could stay with me again."
You shake your head. "You're the best friend I've ever had, which is why I'm saying no."
He doesn't get what you mean, but you finish your dinner and help him clean up. He more than trusts you to stay here alone while he's on a case, you've honestly left it in better condition than you found it, and he insists you sleep in his bed again while you're here.
"Don't be silly," you say, throwing a sheet out over the couch. "This is your place. You need to sleep in your own bed."
The disaster is that it smells like you. Spencer says goodnight to you reluctantly and leaves you on the couch with every throw blanket he owns, climbing into his own bed and pulling the comforter up to his nose. He imagines you here at night, your body wash still clinging to your skin from a late night shower, your hand tucked under his pillow. There are so many things he'd like to give you, if you'd just let him.
He spends a quiet thirty minutes like that, missing the warmth of your skin and your casual touching, wishing he could offer you the fresh start you desire, even if it meant he wasn't involved.
The couch springs creak as you toss and turn, the sound finding it's way down the short hall from the living room slash kitchen to his bedroom. Hesitant, Spencer shifts in bed, hitting that one coil in his mattress just right, the twang resounding.
You appear in his doorway with your borrowed pillows crushed to your chest not long after that. You don't need to ask, Spencer doesn't need to answer. He can't give you everything that you want, but he can give you a quiet, comfortable night next to someone who loves you.
Ever well-tempered, you slip into the sheets beside him and curl up toward him, your fingertips brushing his side. You don't look at him in the dark, but you mumble sleepily, fingers twitching, "Night, Spence."
You're out like a light.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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Blind date with ex-husband price. It was like 4 peoples doing. It was your coworkers' yoga instructors, then the yoga instructors' supermarket bag boy and then his girlfriends who set up the date. How did we even get there?
Anyway, your dressed up, all pretty, excited to meet someone new. It's been a while since you've been on a date, a blind one at that, alot of guys take one look and either get too 'excited' or extremely deflated, both of them are horrible, but it's been a while since you've been on the scene after you finally got over your husband...
Annnndd, it's your ex. Fuck he looks good, fresh trim and his shoulders look so broad, he's wearing his 'going out, need to impress shirt'.. damn, he really wanted to appeal whoever his blind date was... maybe it's not to late to leave, he hasnt even no- oh.. his hand is on your lower back
"Sweetheart!" He smiles in a way that doesn't reach his eyes,
"John..." you acknowledge, looking up at him, "dont call me sweetheart."
"Sorry, love, bad habit."
You roll your eyes, but don't correct him. Is he doing it on purpose?
"Well, red bag," He smiles.
"Red tie," you respond
"So we're with each others company for the night then," He grins and looks at you, sheepishly, "well, that's if you want to continue the blind date?" He sounds hopeful...
He leads you to the table. Obviously, he pulls the chair out for you and gives you a bouquet of flowers, its only the gentlemanly thing to do, he says.
It starts off strained but you find yourself picking up the little things he does that you used to love, pointing out your favourite foods in the menu, listening intently to everything you say, stupidly lovey-dovey puppy eyes as he nods along, his hand on yours, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand, he even said some stupid line about 'me n u' and says soap put him up to it, fuck, you missed his laugh. You find yourself asking about the boys, work, it feels like you and price are just on a date night, like you two used to do before the divorce.
He walks you home at the end of the night, he started with hand holding, and now his arm is somehow around your waist, and he's closer than any ex-husband should be, really. When you get up to your apartment, he looks a little nervous,
"I'm not inviting you over for a nightcap, John."
"I know, love," he says smoothly, "just wondering... if it would be appropriate to end the night with a kiss,"
You feel a faint heat in your cheeks, unsure of what to do... after a few seconds, you nod, looking up at him. You feel his hand tentatively reach out for the back of your head, cradling it while he kisses you, you missed this, the tickle of his beard, his big hands on you, soft lips, soft kisses.
You can feel him actively try to hold back tongue, but the way you open your mouth slightly in the kiss makes him go for it immediately. You feel yourself melt. It's so desperate and carnal, but still so soft, like he doesn't want to push it, but it goes on longer than expected, neither of you really wanting to pull away, eventually you pull back, lips sore, heated faces, you wonder if you should withdraw the nightcap thing and just let him in.
"I had a lovely night, sweetheart, I... would really love to see you again." He says with a flushed face, his hand on your lower back again, going in circles.
"Me too, John."
"Text me, okay? We can go to that tex-mex place you really like, or somewhere fancier," he smiles softly, "I wanna see my woman happy."
"Not your woman, John."
"Yet." He says with a grin, leaning down and kissing you softly again, "thank you for giving this a chance, love, ill see you tomorrow, hopefully?"
You nod, and he walks home with a smile. Can't believe you had such a nice date with your ex-husband, thanks coworkers, yoga intructors, bag boys girlfriend...
(You probably wouldn't think it's so sweet if earlier you saw gaz in the back alley with bloody knuckles, after beating up the guy that was meant to be your date, texting price
'all done, sir.'
'Knew I could count on you, garrick.')
#visibly shaking#biting my hand so hard rn#captain john price x reader#john price#john price x reader#x reader#chubby reader#dk what to tag#cod x reader#price x reader#cod mwii
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And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)
"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."
"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"
"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."
notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.
Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"
Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.
Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"
On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.
Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."
If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.
Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."
Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.
Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"
Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.
Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."
Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.
Malleus- "..."
Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?
Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"
Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.
Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"
Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.
Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."
You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#silver x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Under The Stars ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡
♡︎cw:unprotected sex, tent sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, pussy job, cum swallowing
♡︎word count: 3.9k
♡︎synopsis: What happens when you share a tent with your crush? The story starts where the memory Precious Bonfire ends.
♡︎a/n: I wrote this during my ovulation week. Also, I went over this once, so if you see any mistakes, no you don't.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!
banner by @cafekitsune
Xavier looks up from the game card “Ah, I figured out what I want my payment to be.” He smiles softly at you and hands you the card, “Tell me when you’re overwhelmed next time.”
A little confused, you absent-mindedly take the card that’s not even yours. “That doesn’t sound like a payment.”
“Well, it is.”
“No, it’s not. Think of something else!” You say with playfulness in your voice. Of course you don’t mind accepting to “pay him off” in this way, but he’s been so helpful and resourceful today, that you’d feel bad for asking for more assistance.
He just shakes his head and stands up from his seat in the camping van, and walks away. End of discussion, I guess.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
You spent a few minutes sitting alone in the van, decompressing, but also thinking of ways to return the favor. Seriously, what’s a good way to show him your gratitude? You know he’s not doing this because he expects something in return. Xavier is a genuine and sweet soul, someone who is reliable (except in the kitchen) with a soothing presence. He never seems overwhelmed, even when he lights his oven on fire.
You sigh wistfully. You were hoping he was going to say “Let’s go on a date!” or “Can I sleep in your tent?” or maybe “You know, the front of my pants is feeling a little tight, could you lend me a hand –“ you blush, hiding your face in your hands. If only.
You glance at your phone to look at the time. You decide you’ve spent enough time away from everyone, letting your mind wander – how big is it? – okay, you really need to focus and go back to your colleagues.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
The rest of the evening went uneventful – you hung out with your friends, cleaned up the mess and then took a relaxing shower. Somewhere between cleaning up and the shower, you swiped a pack of chocolate covered strawberries from the mafia game winner. You wanted those strawberries the moment your eyes landed on them in that pile of snacks. And you’ll buy them later and give them back, so technically you’re borrowing them!
Besides, you want to give them to Xavier as a small thank you. He deserves more than this, but it will do for now.
Anyway, after the refreshing shower, you’re looking around the campsite. Most of your colleagues are cozying up in their tents, only a few still talking and drinking outside. Where’s Xavier?
You saw him earlier hanging out with others, but now… your eyes land on his figure, lounging by a tree away from all the tents.
You approach him. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside.”
Xavier, not opening his eyes, says “I have no problem sleeping outside.”
“Well, as the captain of this group, I very much do.” You extend your arm towards him “C’mon, you can sleep in my tent.”
He opens his eyes as he hears the offer. “Are you – “
You grab his hand, “Yes, the tent is big enough for the two of us.” You suddenly remember that you only brought one blanket, but this summer night is nice and breezy so it shouldn’t be an issue.
Hesitant at first, Xavier nods and gets up while holding your hand. He moves his backpack to your tent and goes to take a shower, giving you time to change into pajama shorts and tank top; not really appropriate in this situation, but who cares!
As you spread out the blanket over the sleeping mat and two pillows, (yes, two, the other one was meant for your knees), you sit there waiting for him and then you realize – wow, it’s kinda fucking cold in here!
You were so focused on being a good captain and taking care of everyone that it completely slipped your mind that you should pack warmer pajamas and maybe a sleeping bag; it doesn’t matter that it’s summer, nights are always colder in the woods.
As you wonder if the blanket will be warm enough, from the corner of your eye you notice Xavier approaching the tent. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and gray cotton shorts. You move a little to make room for him, and when he crouches to step inside, your eyes are glued to his muscular legs. The staring makes you miss the way Xavier’s eyes take in your figure, the smooth skin of your thighs and your pebbled nipples poking underneath your top.
You quickly shift your gaze to his face; he’s looking around the tent. Suddenly you’re nervous. It hits you that you’ll be sleeping next to Xavier in this small ass tent. You feel an awkward tension, so you say “I hope this is enough room for you! I don’t have one more blanket but I do have an extra pillow!”
Xavier chuckles, and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s good enough for me. I just hope you’re comfortable with this.”
“Of course I am!” You say very convincingly. As you nervously shift, your thigh grazes the box of strawberries. Right, I almost forgot! You take them and offer the box to him. “Here, a small token of my gratitude.”
He eyes the fruit, not taking them immediately. “Where did you get those?”
“The winner gave them to me.”
“Really?”
“I stole them.” You say with a shy smile. Some things are just impossible to hide from him.
He chuckles, “I’ll take them, but only if you have some as well.”
You agree and he opens the box, placing it between you two.
You’re the first one to try them, and you’re so pleased that your little crime paid off. And by Xavier’s little mm! you know that he enjoys the sweetness of chocolate and the strawberries as well. You sit there for a while, eating and chatting about whatever; mostly about the books he’s been reading and the new game both of you started playing.
You don’t feel that tired anymore. It’s probably the shower that washed away all the fatigue of the day. And the adrenaline from talking, not only talking but sharing a tent and then later sleeping next to your crush. You’re actually so excited you could run laps around the campsite, but at the same time so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself.
After you take another bite of the fruit, you notice that Xavier’s eyes are lingering on your lips? No, your cheek?
His hand slowly goes towards your face, and you stand still, unsure of what he wants. His ring finger gently wipes the corner of your mouth.
He smiles, “You had some chocolate there.”
When he’s about to lick his finger, you joke “Hey! You’re taking my chocolate!”
He stops for a second, looks at the finger, then at you. “You’re right. Do you want it back?” He asks with that teasing glint in his eyes as he holds the digit in front of your lips.
You’re stunned for a moment, trying to read the situation. Does he really want you to lick it off?
Okay, you can play along; with your eyes on his, you start to lick the chocolate. Xavier’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips slightly part as he watches you lick and suck his finger clean. It made his shorts tighter, and he hopes that you don’t notice the outline of his erection on his gray shorts.
And you’re so frustrated at yourself because of how wet this little interaction made you.
When you’re done, with a light blush on his cheeks, he pulls back his hand and clears his throat. “You’re really good at this.”
You only sheepishly smile and continue the conversation like nothing happened.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
“You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Xavier asks as you as you both get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, it’s dead silent as everyone around you is sleeping or trying to fall asleep. You’re surprised that Xavier managed to stay awake this long.
You admit that you forgot the fact that it’s colder at night here than back in the city. “But the blanket should be big enough for both of us.” You offer to go ask someone for one more blanket, but he refuses and says that he’s worried about you being cold.
His eyes scan over your barely covered body “I can borrow you my hoodie. But it smells like campfire.”
“I’m gonna to be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.” You reassure him (and yourself). With that, both of you lie down, your backs turned, and cover yourself with a blanket that is not enough for two people.
Xavier lets you take most of it, but tries to not make it obvious, so he holds onto it, only his back covered.
Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pass, you don’t know. You just can’t fall asleep. Not only because your ass is freezing, but because he is lying right next to you. And judging by his deep breathing, he’s asleep. Of course he is. You turn on your back and stare at the stars peeking through the mesh screen of the tent. You don’t want to move around too much or step outside because you don’t want to wake him. He’s had an exhausting day too.
You turn on your side, facing his back. You can’t see much in the dark tent, the only light source being the moon and the stars, and faint fairy lights outside. But it’s visible enough to admire his light fluffy hair and how wide his back is. You crave to trace your fingers over his shirt, through his hair… you completely took over the blanket!
You cover his figure, but then you’re a little exposed. With a sigh, you move closer to him as quietly as possible. Now, time to turn around in the same manner. But, Xavier is already switching to his other side, turning to you, and you’re so close, almost nose to nose and he opens his eyes.
You’re holding in your breath, freezing in place. “Sorry.” You whisper. “I just wanted to cover you.”
His sleepy eyes stare at yours, then at your lips. It takes him a second to register your words. “You’re still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you cold?”
You take second before answering “Maybe.”
“Turn around.”
You do as you’re told expecting him to roll you into the blanket like a burrito and then you’d feel really bad. Those thoughts evaporate when you feel his warm arm slip around your waist, pulling your back against his strong, yet soft, chest, while his lower body keeps a respectful distance.
His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making you shiver. “Is this okay?”
You only muster a squeaky ‘mhm’, and then he falls silent again, with his face nuzzled against your neck. You close your eyes, and try to count sheep.
One sheep…two sheep… your arm gets uncomfortable so you place it over his that’s resting on your waist, the contact making his hand search your hand, entangling his fingers with yours, and then pulling you in a tighter embrace.
Exhaling a shuttering breath, you continue… three sheep… you’ve been keeping your legs pin straight this whole time and they’re starting to feel stiff and sore. But if you bend them, they’ll be exposed to cold air, but if you curl up you’ll be pressing your butt against Xavier’s crotch, or at least lower belly.
Four sheep…
The gentle whisper of your name against your ear makes you yelp. You thought he fell asleep.
Xavier repeats your name, and you can hear the smirk on his lips “Position yourself however you please. I want you to be comfortable.”
You exhale a breath you’ve been holding. “Okay.”
You move into the fetus position, making yourself as comfortable as possible, warm in his embrace, your bottom keeping an awkward distance from his lower half. You bite your bottom lip and try to regulate your breathing. He can probably feel how fast your heart is beating. You think how it’s unfair that he can feel how flustered you are.
You feel his slow heartbeat, but you can’t see his feverish red cheeks.
“Is it better now?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s just that...” It’s just that your legs and buttocks are still cold.
When you don’t finish your sentence, he nudges your neck with his nose. “Your legs are cold.”
The hand on your waist moves and his fingers lightly glide over your upper thigh. When you don’t protest, he starts caressing, warming up your skin. The contact makes you hot between your legs, making you unconsciously rub your thighs and arch your back, your butt backing up against his front.
You immediately flinch, jolting your middle forward outside the covers. “Sorry.” You mumble, your cheeks burning in embarrassment, your body staying in that awkward position.
Xavier can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in. He rubs your shoulder in an attempt to console you. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”
It takes you a few seconds to muster up the courage to go back under the cover, closing the distance between your bodies, letting him spoon you.
You feel like you could melt in his arms; he’s so warm, smells like fresh linen and herbal hair shampoo. Even though you’re still nervous, your body is able to relax and press further against him, unintentionally grinding your soft bottom against his quickly hardening length.
Your pussy clenches as you feel his clothed hard dick against you. He doesn’t say anything, but shift a little further from you.
You don’t know if it’s the weariness, the horniness, or the boldness (if you can call it that), that makes you whisper. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” And you close the distance again, this time slowly sliding your ass against him to prove your point.
A shuddering breath leaves his lips, as he starts moving at your pace. He shifts to rest on his elbow and his hand moves up to cup your cheek, and you turn to face him, your hips halting the movement.
He gazes into your eyes and nudges the tip of your nose with his. He softly breathes your name and his soft warm lips leave a feather light kiss on yours. He waits for your reaction with those puppy eyes that always make you weak.
With the hand that was under you, you hold the side of his face and pull him into a soft kiss. Your lips softly graze and nip as Xavier adjusts his body, elbows resting on either side of your head, his chest resting against yours, but his pelvis is hovering against yours.
You decide to be the one to take the next step; fingers of one hand run through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue glosses his bottom lip and slipping inside, tasting his. The other hand pushes down his lower back, and he takes the hint.
You gasp into the kiss as his dick grinds right between your clothed folds, grazing your clit just right. Your cheeks and core are burning as Xavier starts rutting waster and harder, you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest. Both of you are panting between kisses, suppressing moans and whines.
He breathes against your lips “We should stop.” When he notices a flash of disappointment on your face, he adds, “It’s so easy to hear everything here.”
You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” You gulp and take in deep breaths. Your tent is the furthest from the rest, but still close enough to hear if someone is getting it on.
He rolls over to his side, still facing you. His eyes take in your features as his fingertips graze over them. He pulls you in by the back of your head into a slow kiss. Your lips taste each other, tongues licking, his teeth playfully nibbling your bottom lip.
The hand on the back of your hand travels over your jaw to hold your chin, and a deep sigh leaves his lips. He whispers, “It’s so hard to hold back.” and the continues tasting your plump lips.
Those words make your panties wetter than they were. You throw your leg over his hips and soon you’re straddling him, and his arms envelop you, pressing your body flush against his, his hips bucking up to meet yours once again.
But you crave more contact and so does Xavier. At the same time, Xavier pulls down his shorts and you take off yours. A whimper escapes your lips as you sit back down on his rock hard dick, your sexes only separated by thin fabric.
He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, moving your hips in the same rhythm with his. The friction feels so good, too good. Your pussy is creaming so much, making a mess of your panties and his boxer briefs. Then he shifts his hips a little and his cockhead starts hitting and rubbing your clit over and over, and you’re mewling and panting into the sloppy kiss.
He smirks against your lips. “Honey, I need you to stay quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear you like this.”
The heat pools in the bottom of belly. “Xavier, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Is my little bunny feeling good?” He pants, and by the twitching of his cock, you think he’s close too.
You hold back a disappointed whine when he puts a distance between your hips, but then you feel him push down his boxers freeing his throbbing dick. He pulls your panties to the side and brings your hips back down, your dripping pussy lips sliding against his thick length, and he immediately locks your lips with his, swallowing your moan.
He has you in a tight embrace, one hand on the plump flesh of your ass and the other on the back of your neck. His lips leave a wet trail from your lips over your jaw to the shell of your ear, and you listen to his restrained pants and grunts.
His hot breath fans over your ear “Let’s come together.” He pulls up both of your shirts a bit, and you feel his hard ab muscles tensing against your skin.
You can only nod as the tip starts hitting your clit again, and in a few seconds you’re coming undone on top of him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans.
Xavier follows shortly after, his cum spilling over both of your bellies.
You take a moment to calm down and you notice that he’s still as hard. You come up to meet his gaze.
His eyes are veiled with so much lust and craving. “I – “
“Please, fuck me.” You need more.
With those three magic words, he’s on top of you again, his shirt and the blanket disregarded somewhere in the corner. He pushes your tank top over your breasts, his hot lips latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other one, while his cock is sliding with ease between your slippery folds.
You know that he wants to prep you more, but you feel like you’ve been edged for too long, your hole clenching around nothing.
Xavier’s breath hitches against your nipple when you reach down and wrap your hand around his member, feeling how long and thick he is (he’s longer than your thought).
He comes up and holds your gaze as you tease the tip against your soaking entrance “I need you now.”
His hand switches with yours, slowly easing into you, his gaze never leaving yours. He swallows thickly, and cursing under his breath as he feels your walls clench around him.
And you’re a mess under him, biting your lip to contain your moans and whines, but your pussy is already fluttering around his length, second orgasm building up.
When he’s finally buried to the hilt, he rests his body on top of yours, neither of you caring about the slippery cum between you, if anything it spurs you on even more.
He slowly starts rolling his hips, his lips leaving open mouth kisses over your collar bone and your neck. You fingers find purchase in his hair and nails lightly scrape the skin over his taut back muscles. In your daze you take a moment to admire his strong back and then you move your hand from his back to grab his biceps. Fuck, you wish there was more light here.
Xavier’s lips lock with yours in a sloppy kiss, his tip grazing your sweet spot with every thrust while his fingertips rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. His voice is raspy from all the strangled groans, “You’re squeezing me so hard, princess. Are you gonna come for me?”
You only manage a small moan in response, and you don’t even care if you’re loud. And the wet smacking of his pelvis against your creamy cunt is already giving you away.
You barely give any warning as suddenly another orgasm crashes over you, his free hand covering your mouth. He coos in your ear that’s right and you’re so pretty and sweet names that you barely register as you whimper against his hand and your pussy spasms around his cock.
As you come down from your high, he picks up the pace and soon you notice him twitching inside you, his hips stuttering and his pants becoming shallower.
He murmurs “Where do you want me?”
You fight back the urge to say ‘inside’, you want him to fill you up so bad, but now is not the place to make that kind of mess.
Still, you don’t want spill it outside. “Use my mouth.”
His face burns and his dick painfully throbs at those words. You rest on your elbows as he pulls out and straddles your waist, his hand resting on your head.
You let him guide the tip past your lips, and you swirl your tongue around it tasting your mixed juices. He swallows a moan as you take him in deeper; swollen lips enveloping his cock, tongue swirling, tasting him, and grazing his pulsing veins, and he can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits him with how good you’re at this.
Pushing those thoughts back, he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re taking me so good.”
He starts thrusting, unable to hold back much longer. He whispers between pants “Tap my arm if I go too hard.”
You hum against his length, focused on relaxing your throat as his cockhead starts hitting more and more with each thrust and stutter of his hips.
You feel him throb hard in your mouth, and his hand travels under your chin. You hear him demand with a strangled groan “Look at me.”
Your eyes lock with his, the sight of you sucking him in with a fucked-out face making him tip over the edge, filling your mouth with his hot cum.
He takes shaky breaths as he twitches in your mouth as you suck him and swallow each drop, not letting anything go to waste.
After he pulls out, he sits next to you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.
He holds your face in his hands, his nose nudging yours. “Are you okay?”
You nod and kiss him again. And then you feel cold air hit the wet spots on your body. You chuckle “We need to get cleaned up, though.”
With that, you wipe yourselves with wipes and dress up to make an awkward walk towards the bathroom. You just hope that no one heard what you were doing in the tent. Or the shower.
#love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#xavier smut#lads smut#lads xavier#lads x reader#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier fic#love and deepspace xavier#banner by cafekitsune
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ficlet under the cut
The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.
It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.
"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"
Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.
The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.
He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.
"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.
Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.
"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.
Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.
"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"
The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.
Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.
A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."
"Sure, sure."
The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.
Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.
The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.
"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.
“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”
There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased.
“There’s a scar.”
“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”
Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.
The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.
Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”
Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”
“Ten-thousand.”
Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.
“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”
The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.
“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”
“Zaheera will see you out.”
The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.
The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.
But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.
“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”
“Get out.”
The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.
After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.
There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.
“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”
The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone.
He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.
<~><><~>
Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.
The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.
Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.
But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.
In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.
He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems.
Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.
Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching.
He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.
When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.
“Hello.”
Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.
To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face.
“Wait!” The man yelped.
But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.
There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”
The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun.
How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—
“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.
Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.
“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”
“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer.
“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”
What.
Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things.
When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”
“What?”
What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?
“You were always more civil with it around.”
Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.
“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.
For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.
What.
A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.
“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”
Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.
“What—but—you understand me?”
“Of course.”
“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.
“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”
“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.
But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.
“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”
No.
No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.
But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko.
He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.
Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.
“Lu Ten?”
He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”
Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.
“How did you get that scar?”
“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”
The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”
“Which is?”
“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”
Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.
#zutara#katara x zuko#avatar: the last airbender#atla au#zutara mermaid au#atla mermaid au#katara#prince zuko#princess azula#sokka#aang#the gaang#lu ten#lu ten lives au#rip him tho he's not having a great time#I want to be normal so bad but being weird and doing stuff like this is so much fun#zutara art#atla fanfiction#atla art#momo atla#singswan-springswan art
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the color green | T.S
previous part | next part
or check out the series masterlist
summary ; you've met tommy's secretary , who has a thing for him.
warnings ; mentions of death (no one dies), my bad writing?? probably typos, arranged marriage trope
a/n ; um idk what to think of this part but lmk what you think of it
-
he just looks back at you, his brow raised ,waiting for an explanation
"what?"
"what did ya say to 'er?"
"nothing, why ? what did she tell you?" you can't help the amused expression on your face, you did try to hold it back.
"she said you and polly cornered 'er"
"what" you let out a small laugh "all we did was speak to 'er, and it was mostly polly. she barely acknowledged me."
"really?"
"yes really."
"did ya tell 'er that we're engaged?" his voice was deep and cold. it sent a familiar chill down your spine.
"why ? did ya not want people to know?"
"answer the question"
"i didn't. polly did." you stare at him for a while, eyes tracing his face with a raised brow "are you fucking 'er?"
he blinks slowly, his demeanor doesn't change "i beg your fucking pardon?"
"ya heard me."
"no."
you study his face "we didn't say anything to 'er, polly asked 'er if she knew who i was, she looked me up and down like i was some whore and then almost cried when she found out you and i are engaged. thats it."
"we're not engaged yet."
"we are, according to your aunt. so if ya 'ave any fucking complaints , ya might want to take it up with 'er."
you try to walk past him, deciding that storming off is the best way out of this ,
"and how do ya think youre gettin' back home? polly is gone"
you freeze, stopping in place when you hear that, and he turns, just staring at your back.
"walking exists , ya know?" you turn as well to face him, you try to maintain the most confident expression you could muster
"you're gonna walk back? to your father's house? at this time?"
you just nod,
"no you're not"
"yes i am."
"no."
"why not?"
"what kind if fiancé would i be if i let ya walk home in the dark?." his voice is sarcastic
you just raise your brow again, "i thought we weren't engaged."
"go to my office, i'll drive ya home in a minute."
"ya don't 'ave to, i don't want your charity."
"go to my fucking office, y/n."
you mumble curses under your breath as you stride through and to his office, you open the glass door and plop down on the chair facing his desk. you can see the sectary's silhouette from the corner of your eyes. she's sitting on a desk outside his office and you walked by without sparing her a glance. you can feel her stare burn through you.
the door opens again and he walks in, and sits on his desk
"are we goin' to stay here long? cause i can call oliver to come and get me."
he looked up from the papers he was holding and his stare made you look away. okay maybe you'll let him drive you home.
the secretary knocks and walks in "i just need your signature on this form sir." she walks to his desk and gets as close as appropriately possible.
" y've met my fiancée then, miss carter?" he asks the secretary without looking at her
"i.." she stands straight and glances at you "i did , yes i did."
he looks up at her briefly "she might be comin' here more often now, so please make 'er feel at home whenever im not around."
"of course, sir." she smiles sweetly at him before grabbing the paper and walking out of the office.
you raise your brows, a small smirk on your lips "oh im your fiancée now , aye?"
he doesn't answer you, but you see the corners of his lips curl.
you stifle back a yawn as you sit on the sofa , trying to not to nod off. its the middle of the night and your brother had woken you up. safe to say tonight was not a night you've expected and its yet to end.
"how did ya even know about this?" you nod towards abraham who had a cup of tea in his hand
"mum called" he muttered as he handed you a cup as well
"its just a cold , ya know that? , ya didn't 'ave to leave anna and come all the way here."
"it's dad, i couldn't just sleep after 'earing mum cry about 'im"
"she cries about everything" you say with a sigh as you take a sip of your tea
the living room as dark except for a small lamp that was next to you
"did she call celest and oliver?"
"i think so, but they'll probably come by in the mornin'."
you hear your mothers sniffles as she leaves her and your father's bedroom.
"hes asking for you."
you and abraham look at each other before you put your tea cup down and get up from the sofa.
"come in"
you walk in and close the door behind you gently. your dad is propped up with a pillow behind him, you approach the bed and get on it, laying next to him
"ya better not give me another one of your speeches dad." you feign annoyance but your smile gives you away.
he lets out a laugh then turns to you "i'm an old man ya know, i 'ave to make sure i say everything i need to say before i leave ya."
"y've got a cold dad, its not the plaque " you chuckle as you turn to look at him too.
when you were a child, your father would never sleep if you got sick, he would stay up. sometimes fall asleep beside you, or on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair he'd drag next to your bed.
he would put his head on your heart sometimes late at night anxiously, scared it might've stopped when he accidentally drifted off to sleep.
"listen to me love..." his hands intertwine with yours, his hands calloused from all the days he's spent caring for the soil, or in the war that you never thought would end. "i need to talk about this."
you hum, your hand holding his tightly in yours.
"i'm sorry it had to come to this my love,"
its not another one of his speeches, its a different kind of speech.
"dad..."
"when your mother first told me about this, i thought she was jokin, honest to god" he lets out another laugh "but now..... when i think about it , i cant let ya do that to yerself love..." he shakes his head slightly,
"what?" your eyes look up at him, taking in his features , his dark under eyes, the lines on his face, around his eyes.
"i saved some money yeah? , for when me and your mother might need it. ya can 'ave it." his voice drops to a lower tone
"and do what ?"
"run away."
"run away?" you laugh softly, looking at him with a raised brow "and go where?"
"where ever you want." he smiles softly at you
"you're not serious."
"i am"
you stay silent for a while, processing what he's saying "im not runnin' away dad."
"so you're gonna marry tommy shelby? is that what ya want ? what ya truly want?"
"its what i need to do"
"ya don't"
"so you're gonna go back on your word ,aye? ya gave the man a word after all"
"for you , id break every promise ive ever made."
"dad..." you let out a small smile , his other hand goes to cup your face "i cant do that"
"are ya scared id hate ya? or that id be angry at ya if ya didn't?"
"i cant runaway dad... i cant leave ya" your emotions betray you and they flood through you, your tears start to drop. i cant not be here when you die, when you're buried.
"sometimes i cant believe you're all grown up now,"
"hmm"
"ya were such a lively child"
"you're sayin' im borin' now aye?"
you two share a small laugh, you turn your face and kiss his palm, before closing your eyes "id put myself through anything and everything to keep ya with me for however long i can."
-
@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited
#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#tommy shelby fanfiction#thomas shelby fanfiction#kadwrites
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Trailer park Steve AU part 24
part 1 | part 23 | ao3
cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death
"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."
"Can I help you?" Max seethes.
Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?
"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.
"Who cares?" she bites back.
The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"
"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"
Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"
"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.
"Robin, what—?"
"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"
—
"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.
"An intervention."
Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.
"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."
A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.
"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."
"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.
"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."
'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."
"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."
"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.
"My parents are amazing, thank you!"
"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."
"Like I said: amazing."
Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"
"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.
"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."
She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."
—
Steve’s hammered.
Whoops.
Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.
He meant to get politely drunk.
A socially appropriate amount.
But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.
He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.
Five?
Six, maybe?
Fuck.
“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.
“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—
Oh, no.
Ohhhh, no.
Now? Really?
Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.
—
part 25
tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot
#trailer park steve au#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie fic#robin buckley#max mayfield#gareth stranger things#vickie stranger things#my writing#my fic
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Cuts and Band-aids
Val Here — So, uh, stupid self-indulgent fluff? I really badly just want to have a domestic life with Leon, you don't understand. I need to be stupid and laugh at his shitty dad jokes. Then play with his hair and fall asleep with cuddles. I am a simple woman, am sorry guys… Also going off Google with this.
(Also Tumblr decided to hide this for an hour so uh... Yeah, that happened. 😭 Am I making a big deal out of it? Yes. That shit literally scared me.)
Warnings — None, just fluff. And slightly OOC Leon, cause I like goofy Leon. Ok, maybe pretty OOC Leon but I think Domestic Leon and Mission Leon are pretty different ngl… Also, shit writing too, dialogue isn't my strong suit. 😭
All this started with was cuddling in bed one night, being curious about one simple thing…
“Could I possibly shave your stubble, Leon?” An innocent question, as a gesture of affection towards him; something small and sweet.
Surprising him, as he proceeded to check his phone. Looking over his shoulder with shocked eyes, nodding in response.
“Sure.”
“Am I doing this right?” You asked as you applied shaving cream to the lower half of his face. Sitting up on the bathroom counter, with Leon leaning into you slightly. Watching him appear like a cat, scratched under the chin with a shit-eating grin.
“Mhm, I hope you know the basics of shaving. Do you need some private lessons on this, hm? Do I have to be Mr. Kennedy? Private shaving tutoring with Mr. Kennedy?” Leon purred, allowing you to maneuver his face in whatever way you wished. Feels like a model with a brush on his face, beauty at its finest.
“Uh, I know the thing about the grain. Against the grain?” Ok, maybe you didn't exactly know how to shave. It seemed harder to shave a face, rather than arm hair or leg hair. You didn't even have facial hair, so you had no room to talk in such a department. “How do you do against the grain?”
Aw, you poor, poor thing…
Leon sighed, explaining as you continued to cover his face in shaving cream; with the brush he provided ever so courteously, “'Ight, so, it ain't like shaving an arm. At least in my opinion, 'cause my opinion is absolutely amazing, and you shouldn't put cereal before milk.”
Ok, smart ass, maybe you'll be a lunatic and do milk before cereal… Sike.
“That opinion is shit, and you know it.” You laughed, putting the shaving brush away on the bathroom counter. Watching as Leon proceeded to ready the razor, like a jeweler appraising a diamond. Leon often looked this way when he cleaned his gun.
“Maybe you're the one with a shit opinion, ion know.” He chuckled, sliding the razor into your hand. “There, now it's time for Mr. Kennedy to work his charm and school you on shaving.”
Leon coughed, his face taking on a 'dignified' look as he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. Taking your hand in his, and giving you a hands-on approach toward his shaving.
Gently guiding your hand in a way that went against the way his facial hair grew. A slight sound came from it, and bits of hair following the trail.
“So, miss, what do you notice?” This 'teacher' asked, letting you do the second swipe yourself. Arms crossed over his chest, seemingly pleased with his shit attempt at teaching you.
“That you look very stupid? Or the fact that you missed a spot?” You answered, taking his jaw in your hands to move his face in an appropriate direction. He did, in fact, miss a spot. Poor man's ego probably took a hit.
“Damn it.” Leon sighed, his expression falling as he let his face rest. Letting out a faint hum as he watched your face focus; such care in doing something so simple.
“Seeing you focus is adorable, y'know?” He now said, was he attempting to woo you further? As if cheesy jokes, blanket hogging, and a breakfast lover weren't already enough. Focusing was his new target?
“I'm charmed, but I have a man at home.”
Shaving his face was a little over halfway done, having to do underneath his jaw and possibly his mustache. Seeing Leon raise an eyebrow at you as you began to do underneath his jaw. Oh really, a man at home? Oh my, what could ever be his name?
“I bet I could be better than that man.” Of course, you could be, dumbass. It's literally you.
“I dunno, he's definitely charming, but he's a bit of a... What's the best word? Clod? Dolt? Dumbass?” There were multiple words to describe Leon at points. The way he would burn his mouth when eating, knock things over, clearly need glasses, and proceed to not wear a damned motorcycle helmet. How many times did you yell at him? Then he would proceed to give a sheepish smile, runoff, and come back saying, “So, uh, honey! My motorcycle crashed on the freeway!” Absolute dumbass, but it was sweet. He was sweet.
He was sweeter than honey, almost too sweet. Seeing as he always kissed your knuckles or palms. An aged cat that just wanted to be loved, and love back.
“I bet he's delighted you call him such wonderful names. I'll call you... Amore mio bellissimo.” Leon purred, looking up to catch himself in the mirror. A smile graced his face, alongside a cut. The sudden movement of him moving his face caused the blade of the razor to cut him. Seeing a now thin, bright red mark on his jaw.
Oof, you did a little fuck-up. “Err... Band-aid?” You suggested, face a little uncertain as he brushed a finger over it. “Kind of moved your face, should've learned this now.”
“I know.” It was all he responded with, letting himself stare into his soul. A little creepy, but he often dazed off into his own world. Doing paperwork, before bed, coming from a mission, and when you showered together, too.
“Stop looking gloomy, gumdrop.” Gum drop? That just randomly popped out of your mouth. Ew, you're starting to sound like Leon when he's drunk. Clinging to you like a child, crying that you're so good to him. Delighted and honored, he held you in such a high regard.
“Gumdrop? I've rubbed off on you, honeybun.” He teased, that signature Kennedy toothy smile appearing. Cute little dimples on his face. Damn you.
Why did your face feel warm? A groan came from your lips as he had successfully wooed you in the stupidest ways. Reaching behind you into the band-aid box, feeling around for at least one normal-sized band-aid. Leon, why'd you always buy the big ass ones?
While you did that, Leon finished the rest of his face, splashing water all over his face as he finished. Rubbing underneath his eyes, muttering to himself that he needed to do something with his eye bags. Good, he's distracted...
Maybe you did like to fuck around and find out. Being able to fish out a Hello Kitty band-aid. Heh, you can play the small stupid game of pranks as well. Well, this wasn't exactly a prank. But it usually got a rise out of him in small ways. Pulling the back off and sticking it quickly on his face.
Was he appalled? Possibly, seeing as he stood there for a second. Maybe multiple seconds? Why did a small cold sweat break down your neck as he glanced towards you? Lips pursed as he judged the 'fashion choice' of such a band-aid.
“What's this dog again?” Leon asked, squinting as he turned his face to get a better look. That's right, he didn't even know what Hello Kitty was, did he? It was basically something for girls, and judging by the way he would watch raunchy cartoons. Yeah, he wouldn't know it's Pompompurin. It was too out of his league.
“That, my friend, is Pompompurin. Big name, I know. I botched it, so many times, till a little teenager screamed at me for it.” You laughed, recalling the small memory of it. Pausing as Leon gave a kiss to your cheek. More red blooming on your cheeks. Quick and sly, always the way he was.
“Well, guess I get to have a pee-colored band-aid on my face now, huh? Multiple kinds of hydrated, too.” Duly noted, never introduce you to a dog or Sanrio ever again. Only took ten seconds in, and you had to say something flavorful. No, something you want to slap him respectfully for.
“You always ruin cute things, God damn.” Never got old, you respectfully ruined the other. He got pee-colored band-aids, and you got a drive-by ass-wise. The equal playing field in this relationship.
“You just can't appreciate my art, can you?” He questioned, giving another kiss on your cheek before proceeding with his normal morning routine.
“You can't appreciate the art of me learning to shave your stubble? Not even a thank you?” Reusing his words in a way against him, watching him roll his eyes and meet your gaze.
“Thank you, babe.” Was all he said to make a small smile appear on your face. Earning a kiss on his lips.
“Love you.”
“Love you too, maybe pee colored band-aids are go—”
“Oh, shut the actual fuck up.”
#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy
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Blood red eyes, point-sharp nails
Reptile skin, prehensile tails
Come one, cum all... to Monsterfucker May
Details beneath the cut.
What is this?
It's pretty much what it says on the tin. Take your blorbo(s), monsterfy them, and put them in (sexy) situations.
I'm calling it a Spicy Six challenge, but I did throw an asterisk (technically a dagger bc of its superior aesthetics) out beside that because you can totally also write, like, Selkie Joyce or Mothman Mr. Clarke.
Or Jeff CorrodedCoffin getting his shit rocked by Mermaid Heather Holloway.
I pretty much wanted to indicate that this particular challenge excludes the younger characters and there's not a great catch-all term for "every legal adult in Hawkins/Chicago/California."
How sexy does my fic/art have to be?
As sexy as you want. This IS a monsterFUCKER challenge, but... Maybe the sex is fade-to-black in your fic. Or maybe your monsters have sex in a very unique way.
Maybe your art is just a ring-covered hand white-knuckling fur. Maybe it's fanged faces contorted with bliss.
Sometimes anticipation and suggestion are plenty.
That said, I also encourage the most unhinged freaknasty shit you can think up, if that's what you wanna do.
What counts a monster?
You tell me, pal. 😏
(Feel free to use the word loosely to include any kind of creature, fantasy/mythological being, or even random sentient concepts e.g. Death or Time.)
So how do I participate?
Write a fic and/or create a work of art that fits the challenge.
Fics can be any length, and you can create as few or as many creative works for this challenge as you want.
On tumblr and all other sites where hashtags are used, tag with #STMonsterMay and #STMonsterMay24
On AO3, add your work to the collection, searchable as STMonsterMay24 when posting a new work. This will open on May 1 at midnight US EST time.
Please only add works posted in May to the collection/tags. (Sequels are okay! So are new works of art for existing fics/universes.)
Is it okay if I write/draw [character/ship/dark concept/etc.]?
I wholeheartedly and passionately do not give a shit. As long as it fits the parameters of the challenge, it's fair game. Just tag and warn appropriately.
That said, I will kindly request people are a bit conscious of what they're doing. I'm thinking of things like not using Native/Indigenous monsters if they don't belong to you. Etc.
* Will this be moderated?
This challenge will be 95% unmoderated because I expect people to act like the kind and conscientious adults they are. I also have no idea how successful or unsuccessful this will end up being yet and if it would even be possible to keep an eye on Everything.
However, if something really egregious happens re: cultural/racial sensitivity, or a serious lack of tags for a rough topic, people are encouraged to message or inbox me, and I'll look into it and make whatever call seems to fit the situation re: removal from the collection, talking to the creator, requesting additional tags, etc.
For things posted outside of the ao3 collection, there won't be much I can personally do except attempting to have a productive conversation with the creator (if there is a way for me to do that.)
Feel free to reach out if you have any Qs!
Otherwise, I'll see you all in May. 😈
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I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.
I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!
We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.
Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.
People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.
To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.
And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞 [Needy]
Who said every omega needs an alpha?
Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, IUD mentioned, I repeat, this is bare sex but still protected, Don't be stupid in real life, penetrative sex, implied breeding kink, knotting, implied oral, kook breaks the sofa but keeps going oops
Length: 2k? I think so.
Main work
This belongs to a different Oneshot, but can be read on its own.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Something that Jungkook has proven to you, is that he is a way better lover than anyone you've ever had before.
And another thing both of you are facing nowadays, is the more.. upsetting part of your relationship, at least in the way it's viewed by others.
Like an invitation.
You can't go to any club or bar without being watched- mainly since Jungkook doesn't make it a secret that he's head over heels in love with you. And that in itself isn't new- omega on omega relationships are becoming more and more common, just like any other random pairing of sub-genders. But that doesn't mean that the sexualization of it doesn't still happen.
It's not taken seriously- mainly by alphas.
Seen as a connection made simply out of desperation and need, you're constantly approached by alpha's who think they can 'give you what you need'- when in reality, you both already have all you could ever want.
But you're still seen as nothing but two lost souls who are in need of guidance.
Sometimes, you wonder how Jungkook can stay so confident and strong when his masculinity and most of all role as your partner is constantly challenged. As if he's not the right fit for you, he's always dismissed as nothing but a current temporary fix for your lack of an appropriate partner. You're not sure if he's just silently suffering from these words and actions- or if he's really that strong.
Maybe the answer is in the heated kisses he offers you inside of his car every time you leave some sort of social setting where something like that has occurred. Maybe the answer is in the desperate way he touches you after such events, in the sheer need to have you close and marked up.
Maybe he's not at all unaffected- but he just knows how to reassure himself.
"Why don't you wanna go out with Yoongi and the others?" Jungkook wonders innocently, hugging you from behind. "Jimin's there too." He tries to remind you, but you shake your head.
"I don't like going to those clubs." You mumble, having learned to be honest and upfront with Jungkook. "I don't know, I just don't wanna." You shrug.
"It's cause of them, isn't it?" He asks, sitting on the kitchen counter, watching your shoulders slump down, hands holding your cup of juice. "Does it bother you?" Jungkook asks, and you want to shake your head- but he wasn't finished in his sentence.
"Does it bother you that I'm not an alpha?" He asks, and you look at him, and spot something you didn't think you would.
He's not looking at you, but at your lips. He's avoiding eye-contact. He's pretending to be confident.
"No." You shake your head, walking closer to him after putting the empty cup in the sink, moving between his legs to hug his body and lean your head against his stomach. "It bothers me that it bothers everyone else." You instead mumble. "It's not fair."
"Do you think you'd feel better going out if you had an alpha partner?" Jungkook asks, hand on your shoulder, always caring, always soft, always gentle.
"No." You deny.
"No?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Because then it wouldn't be you."
At that, Jungkook jumps from the counter, walks you back until your back hits the small table in the kitchen, his hands holding your cheeks, before he kisses you, hungry, a smile interrupting him constantly as his piercings touch your lips, colder than the rest of him. "You're so sweet." He chuckles, eyes hooded, but full of warmth. "I love you so much." He purrs, before he captures your lips once more, needing to be closer again, grip on the back of your thighs enough of a signal to you to jump up into his grasp, as he walks you barely to the couch in the living room, where you both almost trip and fall.
This is where you want to be. You don't ever need to leave this apartment, as long as Jungkook's here.
"Would you like to spend your heat with me?" He asks mostly through a breath, while he runs his lips over your neck, hands already eager to rid you of your clothes.
"Yes." you breathe out, because of course you want to. There's no one else you'd want to spend it with, after all.
You don't need an alpha.
You just need him.
"Hm my timing could be better, huh?" He chuckles amused, hands sneaking into your shorts to push them down, not bothering to push them far enough for you to really properly get out of them- fabric caught at your ankles, along with your underwear. "I'll ask you later.." He purrs, hand between your legs. "...after I made sure you're stuffed full of my cum." He tells you with no shame, licking his lips.
So he knows.
"It was supposed to be a surprise." You whine, and he laughs openly, biting impishly at your mark he's left. It'll never stay forever unless he renews it time after time- a downside to him not having any alpha-genes in himself. But he would mark you up even if he didn't have to.
Because it's a promise he will give you time and time again.
A promise he'll receive from you as well, time and time again.
"Gotta get better at hiding things from me then, pretty baby." He chuckles, sucking marks onto your collarbone. "Or.. maybe not." He shrugs, adjusting himself while his hand works you up for him, when your hands sneak up his shirt.
"I don't wanna hide from you." You say, and he smiles, looking at you before he leans back to pull his shirt over his head.
"And I wouldn't ever want that either." He hums, kissing you again. "But-" He interrupts himself. "-You could've told me baby. I heard it hurts a lot to get it." He worries, and you shrug, moving your back a bit up so he can help you out of your sweater.
"It did." You say, as you remember the pain. "They said it wouldn't. But it really did." You tell him, and he playfully pouts, feigning worry.
"Oh my poor baby, doing all of that just so I can breed her.." He chuckles, joking while you roll your eyes. "But really." Jungkook says, now a little more serious. "Next time you wanna do stuff like this- tell me."
"I wanna get my nipples pierced, maybe." You blurt out bluntly, and his eyes grow wide like two moons, hands stilling in the act of undoing the belt of his jeans.
"Really?" He asks, resuming his task, standing up to step out of his pants, before he rids himself of his underwear as well.
"Yeah." You nod. "There's cute jewelry for it." You hum, watching him get close again, leaning over you, palms grabbing at your tits as if to imagine it.
"I can see it suiting you well." He nods, leaning back to admire your chest in his hands. "Two little hearts. Pink gemstones." He tilts his head a little, thumbs running over your by now hardened nipples. "Hm, the more I think about it, the better it gets." He laughs, especially when he notices you growing restless from his antics, and the shameless display of his already twitching length.
How can he act so unbothered when he's clearly hard and leaking already?
"Koo!" You complain, feet reaching for him, and he laughs.
"Very cute." He comments, aligning himself at your entrance, covering the tip in your arousal. "But I think I wanna hear you say my name a little different.." He growls down at you, boldly licking at your neck before he pushes himself inside, a sigh escaping him at the feeling of you bare.
Who said you need an alpha?
By now he knows how much you can take- how you like it, even though he's still interested in trying out new things every single time. This time however, he's chasing a different thing, other than seeing you fucked out-
because with your IUD in place, he can finally, truly, claim you as his, and present a new kind of possession over you wherever you go. A different smell that he knows every alpha will be aware of-
a sign to back off, because you're not up for grabs, and neither is he.
The feeling of you without any kind of barrier makes him dizzy- causes his mind to fog up like the windows of his car that one time you two had sex in it and almost broke something in the process. He can't help himself.
He's a strong guy, and he puts his all into his love for you- the physical aspects, as well as the emotional ones.
And maybe that's why he should be aware of the way the old couch is protesting rather loudly against his hands bracing his body against the siderest, item of furniture not meant to be tested to this degree- at least not anymore, after it's already way too long lifetime.
But he can't bring himself to care, instead mesmerized by his dick entirely coated by your arousal, clear strands of it keeping his pelvis connected to you, sounds obscene between the two of you.
Your heats are close, after all. It's no wonder your body is reacting like this.
It'll be surely a test once he actually goes through the whole ordeal with him. Because down the line, he won't be able to fully give you what an alpha would be able to. And neither can you.
Will you somehow manage, still?
You don't care.
Right now he's pushing his hips as deep as they can go, jaw clenched, growls escaping him while you grip his arms, fingers digging into his biceps.
And then, something crunches- Jungkook's instincts catching him just in time to instead hold himself up with his hands next to your head, mind unable to really care right now what exactly he broke on the small sofa-
because he's so goddamn close. He can't stop now- he'll fuck you on the floor if he has to, but he needs to keep going.
It's another hint at his own heat approaching. Because actually knotting you is becoming harder and harder to do without the proper hormones being released.
"Jungkook-" You whine, and he nods, well aware, knowing that you're already coming undone beneath him, core clenching around his cock buried deep inside- but he's still just clawing at the very edge, unable to fall off. "-It's-" You start, but he shakes his head.
Stubborn.
He doesn't need an alpha. He needs you, no one else.
"I can." He growls, cutting you off in frustration, sweat building from the effort he puts into his thrusts, eyes closed. "I can.!" He grits out between clenched teeth-
and in that moment, you have an idea, pulling him down by his neck before you bite him back, marking his neck.
And it does the trip, if his drawn out whimper is anything to go by, knot swelling as he pushes himself in deep, cum coating your insides, filling you up.
You're breathing heavily, as Jungkook adjusts you both to lay down somewhat comfortably.
"What was that sound?" You wonder quietly, fingers playing with his hair.
"Me cumming or the sofa breaking?" He chuckles, clearly on cloud nine now that he's satisfied.
"You broke the sofa?" You worry, and he laughs.
"I think? I'm not sure." He shrugs, legs pulling you closer. "I'll check after I cleaned you up." He hums against your lips, and you giggle.
"I can just go clean up myself while you fix the sofa." You suggest- though his eyes are sharp and dark with desire, still.
"That's not the way I want to clean you up though, pretty baby." He purrs-
causing your own arousal to be set aflame again.
...though you do end up changing furniture, no longer trusting the old sofa to go through another round.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#hybrid imagine#bts smut#bts jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook fanfic
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Secret Love Song
Bada Lee x Bebe!reader
Angst
"Why can't I hold you in the streets? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?"
Synopsis: being in a secret relationship is not easy, especially if you are hiding it to the whole world. — or — the heavy weight of the strained relationship you have with Bada has just become too overwhelming.
cw: major angst, mentions of breaking up, kinda toxic relationship,language, long ass story— i didn't count
When BeBe got invited by Mnet to compete for the second season Street Woman Fighter, all of us were ecstatic, especially our team leader and my girlfriend, Bada Lee.
I know just how much Bada wants to showcase each of her members talents to the whole world, and how important this is for her, especially for her career as a choreographer and dancer.
Before the day of the first filming, Bada and I had come to an agreement to keep our relationship in secret in order to keep a professional image in front of our opponents and to the viewers. I didn't mind it, its not like this the first time we are keeping our relationship a secret after all.
As a matter of fact, our relationship has always been kept private, as we are both professional dancers and choreographers, only a few close people knew about our relationship.
We kept our personal life separated from our work life which let us have a nice private and peaceful life as a couple, just in each others arms with no one trying to pry on our relationship or any personal matters.
Everything is perfect. Everything was perfect.
After the first episode had aired, Bada's popularity blossoms and soon had her own fan base. I was so proud that to see her grow in her career.
But as the team and Bada's popularity grew each day, the pressure to meet the people's expections also rises, and it had affect Bada the most.
After the Kpop Deathmatch Mission, Bada has pushed herself to be better, which means she also pushes the team to be better. She becomes more strict to us, but still kept her bubbly personality when it is appropriate to goof around.
But it all went down when we got the feedback of the other groups for the Mega Crew Mission. When we learned that all of our opponents predicted that our team will be the next to go home, Bada broked down into pieces. The negative feedback had causes her to lose her confident on herself and as her girlfriend, I tried to comfort her.
"Babe, don't mind what they said, they were probably doing this to messed us up, after all we won the last challenge right? We got this, okay? I believe in us." I tried to comfort the crying Bada on my lap that night and although it had seemed to work as Bada was now more determined to prove those people wrong about what they think about her and her team.
But, It just doesn't feel right at all, yes Bada have improved a lot and was now more motivated to do better, but the more she focuses on winning the challenges and mission, the more distant she becomes to me.
After that night, Bada never stopped talking about the routines she can think of for the upcoming missions and how it will be a new step for Bebe.
It was all that she talked about, to the point she even forgets that tonight is your anniversary night.
"...I'm thinking maybe Lusher or Tatter would be the center for the first part and then we will use the..." Bada kept mumbling about the dance choreo and other stuff related to the competition and as a great girlfriend, I tried to be understanding.
I really did try my best.
But it only gets worse from there, with Bada's fame grew more, people can't help but get attracted to her, which is understandable.
It was a typical fan behaviour, and I know that Bada has this charisma in her that just makes her more attractive. But, I drew the line when people starts shipping my girlfriend to other participants like Audrey or Kirsten, heck even Redy who used to have beef with Bada.
It was pathetic, I know. But the fact that Bada was becoming closer to Redy once again after the first battle made me feel insecure.
Maybe it was the additional stress from the already strained relationship I had with Bada that makes me more anxious and jealous when in reality it is just an fantasy fans and shippers had built to satisfy their delusions. But it is starting to get to me slowly and slowly.
And this night is the final straw...
Bada kept staying up late, busying herself with making choreos, too busy to even realize that I'm not even sleeping in the same bed, let alone the same room anymore as I had moved to the spare bedroom in our apartment a week ago.
And the fan edits of Bada with other girls and guys, occupy every single social media I have. Almost like it was taunting me.
I broke down that night. All the stress from the competition and my relationship with Bada is finally having an affect on me. That night I was restless, my eyes are puffy
The next day was Bebe's practice for the New Song Challenge, where we will be choreographing Hwasa's song 'Chile'.
There were cameras set up on the dance studio we were practicing on, documenting the progress of our team. Which also means that Bada and I won't be able to interact once again.
"Ok let's run that part one more time" Bada said as everyone went to their places and the song starts.
During the part of the hook where we are doing the '7' sign with our hands, I was at the wrong position making me bumped into Bada as we danced.
And my blood runs cold when I looked at the taller girl behind me who is glaring at me intensely. I mutter a quick sorry, to which she just ignored and replayed the part again.
I feel like breaking down once again. Everyone in the team Bebe noticed the red, puffy eyes that I tried to hide from the camera by wearing a hat, the dark cloud that looms over me at my sulken face. Everyone noticed that, except Bada.
"Y/n, go back to the first position!" I flinched when Bada raised her voice, she is obviously pissed off at me now.
I am trying so hard not to cry infront of the camera and my crew as I bit my lip hard enough for me to taste a bit of blood.
The practice continues as the tension between me and Bada thickens. Looks like the show found the highlighted drama they want for the next episode.
Once the practice was over and the cameras sre all turned off, I quickly made my way out of the room I was in, not even waiting for Bada as I made my way home, eventhough Bada drove the both of us here.
I stopped by a convenience store to buy an ice cream and some sour candies to shock my system and stop me from breaking down. Before making my way back to our apartment.
And just as I thought, Bada is already there, she has a car whilst I walked home for the most part, so it makes sense.
As soon as I stepped inside, Bada is sitting on the couch, her elbows are pressed on her knees, as her fingers are intertwined.
I can sense she is very angry, but I'm way too mentally and emotionally unstable for any confrontations as I walk passed her figure, attempting to go to my bedroom, which is the stupidest decision I ever think of since it just made Bada even more mad.
"Oh so now you're gonna ignore me? Gonna act like you didn't just walked out after practice and then going home late?" Bada glares at me as I stop on my tracks.
I stare back at her, but all I can see from her is how pissed she is. I can't even recognize her.
Just a few months ago, we were fine, we were happy. But now here we are, acting like we're not even in a relationship.
"Y/n!" I flinch again as Bada raises her voice once again, "What, are you just gonna stare at me like a deer in a headlights? Answer me goddamit? What is your problem? You are so off today, your performance is already way worse than before? Are you trying to sabotage the team—"
Bada's voice faded out in my mind, all I can think of is how we used to be. This is totally different from the secret relationship we had when we are at work.
Bada has become way to obsessed with the competition that I don't she recognize my role in her life anymore. I think she already forgot that I'm her girlfriend, all because of how often we restrain ourselves from showing affection in public.
A lone tear runs down my face as Bada keeps on rambling and nagging me about my performance today.
"Stop fucking crying and answer me. What is your problem—"
"MY FUCKING PROBLEM IS THAT YOU DON'T EVEN TREAT ME LIKE YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!"
Bada was shocked from my tone and by my answer. She stayed silent, feeling nervous as this is the first I got angry this bad.
"Eversince we kept our kept our relationship a secret from the whole world, you continued the act even when it's just the two of us." Fat tears are now rolling down my cheeks as my legs started to feel weak.
"I'm so sick and tired of hiding everything. I just want to be held by you in public. I mean you did it with Redy, heck you even kissed Kirsten on the cheek after you were both auditioned for the main dancer title on the first mission, why can't you do it to me?" My legs finally give out as I sat on the floor while Bada stood next to me.
"How can you flirt and be affectionate to everyone but your own girlfriend? Am I still even your girlfriend?" I looked up to her as Bada now have a hint of regret on her face.
Bada can't talk back, she was in deep thought as her mind fills with regrets.
"You forgot our anniversary last week, you talk about me leaving you behind earlier while you left me behind on everything you do. You are so obsessed with the competition that you pushed me and our relationship out from your thoughts. Honestly by now I'm justing waiting for you to break up with me." Bada's felt a pang on her chest as she kneels down next to me and hugged me, I let her but I didn't hug her back.
"I just want to stop hiding anymore..." my tone is much more softer now as I hear Bada's sobs. "You even forgot that today’s my birthday..." I tear up again as Bada starts muttering her apologies.
We both cry in silence, as we finally realize how much damage hiding did to our relationship.
"I'm sorry... It hurts me too when I can't hold you in front of many people. I'm sorry I didn't know how much I hurt you until now... I-It was stupid of me." Bada looks in to my eyes as she says those words.
"I'm sorry I forgot about you...I-" Bada chokes on her tears as she just squeeze my hands.
"I wanna get back from all I did the past few months since the competition... please give me a chance... I-I will be better." Bada looks at me desperately.
"Bada, what I want is for to us to stop hiding anymore..." I cup her cheeks. Bada contemplates at the mention of going public and it was very evident at the sudden change in her expression.
My heart breaks even more when I saw that Bada is having second-thoughts about my request.
"...so that's your answer, huh?" I sighed as I tried to stand up once again and walk to my bedroom. “Why is it so hard for you to tell the world that I’m yours?” I said before closing the door. Bada stumbles on her feet as she tries to follow me but I locked the door before she can even enter.
I broke down once again, seeing as there's no hope that Bada will ever agree to making our relationship public...
A/n: this is honestly really weird, I might revised it later but there might be a part two for this... I'm just too tired to finish it right now. Also, here you go, @badasgirlfriend ... anyway hope you enjoyed this—even if it's a bit trashy and incomplete
Requests are open
#Spotify#secret love song au#bada lee fanfic#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#bada x reader#lee bada x reader#street woman fighter x reader#swf2 x reader#bebe#street woman fighter 2#swf
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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 CORRUPTION IN YOUR SMILE, ADDICTION IN MY EYES ; an osamu dazai fic. ❞
˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . take it, another version of another sugar daddy!dazai.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; fem!reader, degradation, blowjob, nsfw, dazai being called "daddy", reader being called "dumb bitch, whore, slut" etc, workaholic!dazai, sugar daddy!dazai, sensitive!reader, crybaby!reader, dazai is into dacryphilia, mean!dazai in some sense ig, everything is consentual, and that's all i can remember tbh.
the night time may not be a promise of relaxation of body and brain or a time period to rest for everyone but it certainly does charm those who have learnt to see the beauty in the dark with its calming factors.
normally, dazai would not appreciate the stillness and silence his home office is trying to keep him caged in at this hour but right now he has no complaints if working unhealthy hours meant he could keep hearing the producing of the keys of the keyboard everytime the pad of his finger collided with the keys.
yet it was not the typing sounds but the hushed footsteps that actually made him smile.
dazai is aware. too aware. of himself and of others, of the surroundings and of what used to be the surroundings and of those he can see and those he can't.
so to think he won't notice something as minute as soft footsteps as the intention of the one making them is clearly not to bring a disturbance to the serenity.
dazai's fingers stopped typing and his eyes stopped reading through the contract as he had turned his head towards the door which opened and you peaked your head inside,
"did i disturb you daddy?" it only feels appropriate to keep your tone calm and soft at this hour of night as to not disturb the peace the night has to offer.
and although you did, dazai would never let you think so as he shakes his head and beckoned you over with the curl of his index finger and as he watched you smile as you softly closed the door before rushing towards him, dazai could not stop the fondness from being shown on his face in the form of a smile.
he pushed his chair back, turned to face you, leaned back on the chair and manspreaded as if for the purpose of flexing his thighs, his eyes quickly begin to check you out as he deemed your satin shorts and cami top quite sexy yet the moment his eyes rested upon your face and saw the cherry red tinted lips which were jutted upwards in a pout not only made you look quite pure in his eyes but dazai could also feel as if his thoughts are too strong and are luring him into corrupting you to his liking.
dazai raised his hand to clasp it around your wrist after seeing you stand there nervously without as much as moving a limp and after the sight of you batting your eyelashes as you stared at his laptop made you look so preety and desirable in your eyes. he pulled your hand to make you sit on his thigh and immediately, as if warning to restrict your movements even if there isn't any need to, he wrapped his arm around your stomach.
"i don't think you are done with your work though." you mutter out as your eyes are on his laptop screen, back against his chest as you tilt your head back to look at him.
"yeah, you think so?" he smiled like the tiger smiled before pouncing on its prey, dazai's hands grab either sides of your waist as he adjusted you on his thigh and maybe you wouldn't have gulped if you had been wearing your underwear but well, you weren't on dazai's commands and now you feel the friction of his thigh on your cunt and can you really do any thing except waiting and wishing for him to be done with his work quickly so he could just begin rutting into you?
the thought had your cunt clenching around nothing and the man behind you smirked before he leaned forwards to place his chin on your shoulder, using his legs to pull his chair forwards again.
"just need to do some more and then i am all your's, yeah?" you didn't think you would be so reactive but dazai did and this is exactly why he chose to spoke in such a low tone, with a slight purr in his voice and the way you could almost feel his chest vibrate had nearly made you forget your natural breathing pattern, relishing into the pleasure of his breath and tone scarcely feathering the shell of your ear.
you are the naive rabbit and he is the fox who is lulling you to sleep to actually feast upon you or maybe he is the lovesick genie who is hypnotizing you into falling into his clutches as he waits for the moment when you make a wrong wish and ultimately is left to dance in midst of your doom as he leads you.
dazai's hands are the vines wrapping around your body and stopped at your nape which he squeezed, finding nothing but utter joy and enjoyment in making you a breathless mess even without indulging to sexual teasing.
he likes knowing his effect on you, someone he considers human because dazai osamu is a disgrace to the humankind and according to him, he can never be one of them yet oddly enough no one tries to attain this 'humanity' more than him.
but he is the most human of everyone for him who loves, has already attained a part of humanity.
without love their is no humanity and without humanity there is no curiosity to indulge in the mind of humans for everyone thinks they are better and different then the rest.
"be quick daddy." you breath out and if dazai wasn't as close as he is, he might have not even heard you and would just think you were relasing a deep breath but it almost feel pleasurable to have you speak in such a hushed tone, it almost makes dazai think as if your words and the title of endearment and utter devotion you call him with is a secret to be shared with only him as if you only trusted him to confine your secrets, your rawest personality and vulnerability in him.
dazai is a sucker for feeling worthy enough by the beings he is so desperately tries to fit in with.
but he is a selfish man when it comes to you, with others he may be satisfied with a few hours or so but with you, it should be your whole life. to be utterly devoted to him and trying your best to be the one he could find his source of comfort and relaxation in is your declaration to your insecurities to show them your faith in him and to part ways with his old womanizing habits to remain loyal to only one woman even if said woman is his sugarbaby is dazai's ways of showing his utter commitment.
and daddy really never showed you how to love or have enough faith in your loved ones to not think they are leaving at every small or big argument and dazai was never a fan of commitments for he didn't understand the purpose of it.
but here you two are now, the very same people fighting your own cowardice in the same way your brain is fighting your lust which increases as you see him skillfully type.
it was when he moved his finger against the touchpad that lust was finally able to get ahold of you as your thoughts only circulated around one topic ; how would dazai's fingers feel caressing your skin at the very moment, you shifted slightly on his thigh and nearly closed your eyes at the very tiny friction caused.
you bit your lip in nervousness and prayed desperately for dazai to not notice the way your slick is coating your shorts.
dazai tsked upon getting disturbed by these continuously made movements and shifting of your's but he won't deny the way your ass presses against his crotch or how you lean back onto him is not edging him on. and when he placed his hand on your curve and squeezed the flesh, the cold satin on you only added to his limited pleasure.
you could feel sweatbeads forming at your temple and your body wanting to move due to the uncontrollable arousal.
you looked up at dazai to see him deeply invested in his work as his hands nor his eyes rested for a moment but continued to work on and something tells you that this would continue for a while but can you continue as well to remain seated patiently with thoughts of all kind running wild in your mind?
your hands urgently moved to be buried between your thighs as to hide their shakiness or stop them from touching Dazai but the way your cunt clenched, your juices dropping onto him and your constant intervals of shaky breathing between your normal breathing as you remembered all times where his hand was buried till knuckles deep into your cunt.
you lean your head back onto his shoulder when dazai placed a feathery kiss on your exposed shoulder, your eyes closed at the small action and your lust filled body reacted greatly to it, your eyes were screwed shut while your eyebrows furrowed and you let out in a trembling tone the words which would, in a few minutes, urge dazai to close his laptop.
"daddy, 'm so sorry to disturb you," is how you begin as you open your eyes and plead to him with your gaze alone, the neediness in your eyes makes dazai forget to inhale and thus disrupting his respiration, "but i can't anymore. daddy touch me." your voice cracked.
dazai's heart swelled with adoration. his head dipped down to plant a feverous kiss on your chin, feverous in the sense that it infected your body with undeniable lust which was loud and made sure to mess with your mind to the point your attention couldn't be focused on anything except being filled with his fingers or dick, you aren't really in a position to have a preference right now with the current state you are in.
"my baby wants to be touched?" he asked upon enjoying your desperation for him to which you nodded almost immediately, grinding against his thigh to put emphasis on your neediness but dazai tsked, hand leaving his keypad to grab your thigh and squeeze it for a warning instead.
"fucking behave sweetheart. you aren't a needy whore now, are you? you are my baby or am i mistaken?" dazai had raised his eyebrows in mockery as he leaned down near your face, the sight of your teeth sinking down on your lips is too good for him to not drink in with a inexplicable thirst.
"sorry daddy." you whisper out with a voice which is barely above a soft hush as you feel shame settle in on you but it only adds to the fire of lust burning your body. you almost feel like crying in frustration when you saw dazai hum before he went back to his work again, feeling the lust burn your body and your pussy throbbed for attention.
yet you didn't move for atleast five minutes before tears finally gathered in your eyes and your bottom lip fell victim to the cruelty of your teeth all because you don't want them to slip up and make a mistake of letting the sobs and sniffles buring in your throat to slip out of your lips.
yet your attempt is futile as a sniffle is what makes dazai's fingers to freeze before he looks at you, his pretty baby sitting on his lap all hot and bothered given by the tears in your eyes and dazai's lips twitched before he smirked, bringing his hand closer to your face to swipe at the tear flowing down your cheek, his hand then makes its journey between your thighs where your hands were caged in and he purposely rubs the finger dangerously close to your pussy.
"baby no," he coos, teasingly caressing your cheek, "why are you crying? is something wrong or are you really a slut throwing a tantrum because she doesn't have a dick inside her?" dazai's voice is light yet seductive
you do not reply in any form but only sniffle again, big and fat tears threatening to drop down your cheeks and it makes dazai sigh in faux sympathy.
"fine --" dazai began and parted your thighs, "-- play with yourself for me, till i am done, yeah?" he had said and flicked at your pussy with his index finger only for one purpose, to feel how wet you were and he found himself getting satisfied after checking so discretely but you weren't.
just when you thought he was finally going to give you what you want, to abandon his work to focus his attention on you and to make his laptop jealous by having his serene brown eyes on your nude form, dazai busted your bubble of imagination by playing hard to get.
you wanted to shake your head as a no, be a brat and throw a tantrum knowing how much he enjoys your antics but you didn't, rather, you couldn't given the current state of your body so you nodded, sniffling as your eyes fell down on your lower body in defeat.
"you are so mean to me when i am nothing but good and sweet to you." you let out your words in a mumble as you complained to the older man about his behavior, the man who did not look away from the laptop screen but only hummed to let you know your complaint reached his ears, the flat of his palm rested on your hip as he tapped the back of his index finger on it as a silent gesture to tell you what to do, as if his fingers are the script which you memorized and have to act on it now.
you slightly lifted your hips from his thigh to hook your finger around your shorts, pulling it down and once it lowered down to your hips, dazai took the lead as he shoved the clothing article down to let it pool at your ankles, he made you sit again by grabbing your now bare hip and harshly pulling you down -- all while his eyes remained glued to the technology in front and if only dazai knew how he had the ability to make you envy inanimate objects, you wonder what he would do with such knowledge.
your finger hovered above your glistening cunt as your eyes fell upon the screen of his laptop before you tilted your head up up look at dazai who at the very moment bit his lip as he glared at the screen after processing the words shown and his brain worked quickly to pinpoint the mistake and on how to solve it -- but him and his work is none of your concern, your concern and your attention is the way your pussy clenched again in a angry and mean way to ask for his attention but you know you won't be getting any of it soon and so your own attention was for substitute for his.
you looked down and your finger hovering above your clit finally inched closer to touch your folds, the cold fingertip making you part your lips at the sensation you were greedily aware of the very moment your skin touched your fold. your finger moved up and down to rub your slick on your skin more but what normally would bring you pleasure, tease you, edge you on isn't doing its functions now and is rather just doing a good job in adding to your frustration so your finger quickly inched downwards before you shoved it in your entrance. not caring enough to build up arousal for it was already reaching its peak, you just needed to feel something thrusting in and out of you, touching all the spots which made you arch your back and loose your mind and you just wanted to feel dazai's hands all over you, lips kissing at every portion of skin they could reach.
dazai had to momentarily pause when your finger entered your pussy with a wet squelch and it resonated in his ears due to the otherwise silence in the room but he had to take a few breaths to divert his mind away from your shaking form on top of him, he had work to do, he couldn't be thinking about neglecting it to care for your cunt and the things he would want to do with it.
he should not stop his work to glance down at you adding a second finger but he did anyway, and he told himself he won't anymore and that his focus would be only on his laptop for till the last of his work is completed.
the task however proved to be especially hard when you leaned your head back on his shoulder, lips parted to let out whines as your fingers increased their pace yet no matter how much you tried to curl and uncurl them, pull your fingers out till the tip is only remained inside before shoving your fingers back in, you couldn't touch the gummy spot which would drive you mad.
this frustrated you even more. you closed your eyes with a hiss leaving your lips to let the ears of the working man catch onto your frustration and for the last time you tried to shove your fingers deeper into you yet the same result and empty feeling from before welcomed you.
giving up on attaining pleasure of any kind tonight or atleast for the next hour or so, you pulled your slick covered fingers out after which you tried to sit straight and open dazai's drawer to take tissues out to cleanse yourself of your failed attempt at gaining bliss, you felt like a rabbit being tangled into the net of the hunter with the way dazai's hands shutted down his laptop before wrapping one of the said hands around your stomach while the other got a hold of your wrist and raised it to his mouth, parting his lips before he took in your fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirled around the digits as he tried to suck in all the possible juice he could before pulling your fingers out of his mouth with a nasty wet 'pop' sound.
dazai lazily looked down at you and a lecherous desire traveled down your spine upon gazing into the eyes which could rival a siren and the way he lazily smirked?
osamu dazai, you are temptation, aren't you?
dazai guided your hand towards your clit again before guiding your thumb to rub at your folds and outer lips, the action wasn't what made you gasp for air in a breathless manner but the sensation of dazai guiding you into the palace of corruption while wearing the crown of an angel is.
"dirty bitch. for someone desperate for a fuck, you sure don't know how to pleasure yourself, what makes you think you can pleasure me?" he taunted, smirking devilishly while his eyes were half lidded as if to let the observer perceive it as a bored look but the hunger dripping down the edge of his eyes as it originated from his temple in the form of a sweat bead told you that the invitation of foment wasn't accepted by only you but by him as well who is trying to act indifferent to it.
"don't be mean." you softly mutter out, looking down to see dazai guiding your thumb towards your inner thigh and he hummed before raising his hand to caress your lip and pull on it with his thumb.
"you don't like being called my dirty bitch? wanna be my good baby?" he muttered as he leaned his head down towards your ear, "kneel," demanded the man who pushed his chair back with his heel before he leaned back and began to drum his fingerpads against the armrest of his leather chair while you got up from his lap, turned around and nodded at his previous asked question before you kneeled infront of him as your hands found and grabbed on his thighs to support yourself before you placed your chin on his knee to look up at him.
"but good girls don't get so needy, do they?" dazai raised his eyebrows in utter amusement.
"you were the one who called my your good girl during dinner, are you going back on your words now?" you mutter with a smile and dazai's lips twitched in amusement before he leaned forwards before leaning down towards your face, drumming his fingers on the curve of your jaw.
"well i am not exactly going back on my words but rather questioning if you actually do deserve the title. i think i may just need a small proof to make sure you really are my good girl, no?"
the floor beneath you felt cold yet your body was clouded by the fire left by dazai's index finger trailing the length of your jaw before your eyes fell upon his other hand which fiddled with his sweatpants to let his dick be free and did you really not see it rising up to let its arousal be known to the world? were you really so into trying to achieve your pleasure that you didn't notice the hardening of his cock? well dazai didn't make you sit on his thigh for no reason after all.
"i am, aren't i?" you smile up at him, tilting your head but dazai had grabbed your jaw to tilt your head back to look straight up at him while the other hand pumped his cock up and down a few times.
"good girls do exactly as they are told to," he began before he leaned back on the chair again and got comfortable, beckoning you up with his finger and you obeyed for aren't you his good girl, his good baby, who he can come to after a hectic day?
you raised yourself on your knees, arms on his thigh as you hoisted yourself up before you parted your lips to make dazai smile at the obedience which he always appreciated and found attractive.
staring at him patiently with your lips parted is a sight that made dazai to greedily try and grasp for the oxygen around him for the bony hands of lust choked him.
grabbing a hold of your jaw in a desperate attempt to calm the beating of his heart, dazai pulled you forwards before shoving his dick in your mouth.
you enclosed your lips around his dick as one hand tightened its hold on his thigh to feel some sense of stability in this otherwise shuddering due to lewdness state you are in, your other hand went to wrap around the length of his cock which didn't get the pleasure to be inside your mouth.
your eyes screwed shut as you focused or rather tried your best to perform the act of submission and of pleasure in which the receiver is the same man who you gave your first to and the same man who taught you to give a head, your tongue swirled over the tip and slit of the man who plucked the flower with in you and rather embedded his seeds in its place, the seeds of corruption and the flower of inexperience and innocence.
dazai hissed, tilting his head back on the chair as he could not tolerate to see your cheeks puffed up due to him and his dick, hand trying its best to pump his dick to inflict the maximum pleasure that you have to offer without feeling a need to coo at you and your efforts, adoration is all the man has when he sees you anyway.
"if you were that desperate to be fucked, you gotta show you deserve it or are you just a bratty, nasty bitch who wants everything at her fingertips?" provoking isn't the intention but rather the goal is to bully you to the edge of the cliff of your calm composure before you become a crying mess and that's when dazai will pick you in his arms and fuck you all while he whispers sweet nothings in your ears.
his words worked in the right way and hitted the right sensitive spots as he could see an increase in the way your head bobbed and combined with your hand moving and the other digging painfully hardly into his thighs had dazai releasing a soft whine.
"fuck, shit. such a good bitch but do you think this would be enough to be my good girl?"
oh lord, dear lord, do you exist or is this heaven dazai is in just another wonder of the human mind when it reaches a new state of ecstasy because dazai clearly did not expect fireworks of satisfaction to have a show in his stomach.
one hand pumping his dick up and down while the other raised itself to not miss out on the fun, fondling with his balls while your weight was now hopefully being supported or well tried to be supported by your breasts which were exactly against dazai's knees and everytime your moved your head which lead your body to be moved as well, your hardened nipples through the satin top teased him.
yet is he dazai if he doesn't turn the situation around in his favor?
"fuck, do i really gotta teach you how to suck me again? maybe i should just use you like a whore till i cum, huh? would that be ideal? you would like it though, won't you? you are just hungry for dick after all like a starved whore." dazai tuts before grabbing a hold of your jaw again and with the way his hand always finds the curve of your jaw, you may begin to think his hand belongs over there.
as he pulled you to take more of his length into your mouth, both of your hands immediately left their task to grab his thighs as to not fall on his stomach face first, your jaw being the controller dazai controlled to move you back and forwards but this insane pace and the way his tip hits your throat activated your gag reflex and as you gagged, dazai snickered.
his knee began their own assault as he nudged his knees towards your breasts to make them squish against each other before resting in its original position and again repeating the process.
"what a good bitch letting me use her like a toy." dazai sighed out, the hold on your jaw now began to hurt just the tiniest bit to be an indicator on how the bruises left by him will be prominent to the naked eye later.
a pornographic type of moan left his lips when your hand found itself wrapping around his dick again and pumping up and down but now as a student following it's instrumental mentor as your hands tried to keep up and match the rhythm of his hand on your jaw.
"what a good girl, fuck, my good girl." dazai moaned again when you tried to whine but the vibration made it all the more pleasurable for him.
the night is peaceful and serene but the way your body is moving up and down in tune with dazai's guidance, the small breaths, gasps and occasional moans he lets out, the wet sound produced by his dick in your mouth and the way dazai could feel your breasts being pushed against his body in order to stay in the position you are in right now which consists of you being on your knees, practically upper half of your body pulled onto his lap and the gags and whines you released into the atmosphere around to let them travel to dazai's ears and turn him on even more -- made the night anything but peaceful in the office room which had let go of its serenity the moment you stepped inside the room for it already knew how the night would take a turn for you two.
dazai gasped when your grip on his thigh tightened to the point he could feel your fingertip trying to almost enter his skin and he was sure it would not only leave marks but blood drops as well and this is what drove him over the edge and to drive him to increase his pace, the knot in his stomach felt more alive then ever now and dazai finally looked down at you to see drool dripping the side of your mouth, gasps and short breaths leaving your lips.
your grip on his thigh tightened only more as you felt tears pricking your eyes and dazai noticed. how could he not when he was wating for this exact moment?
"you crying?" dazai asked in an almost teasing tone, a breathy chuckled gracing your ears when it departed from his lips, "sorry baby, but your tears only make me wanna ruin you more."
he pulled your head almost as near as possible to have as much as of his length can enter in your mouth, you felt your mouth burn but soon were to be thankful for the man who pulled you back before slamming his dick in you again and the way he moaned in a high pitched voice made you begin to rub your thighs together.
every action has an equal and opposite reaction, no?
the equal action was dazai also reaching his high, feeling the knot in his stomach stretching in two directions; the opposite reaction was however him pulling you on his dick as much as your mouth allowed you to before pushing your head back a few times and this made your vision blur with tears as your own arousal didn't feel pleasant anymore but rather hot needles pricking your skin.
"shit, what a good bitch of mine. gonna make you suck me everyday till your mouth gets used to me, okay?"
you whined again and this was the final cheery on top along with the perfect moment when as dazai pushed you away from his dick till only his tip remained inside, you had licked his tip with your tongue and when dazai pushed you onto his dick again; his knees which were previously teasing and trying to play with your breasts, began to shake as your hand pumped his dick.
feeling his balls tighten, dazai groaned before he felt your mouth decreasing in space as it sucked his dick as hardly as possible and not too long after, ropes of thick cum shooted from his dick and dripped out of your mouth. dazai pulled his dick out of your mouth to watch in fascination as his cum drizzled all over your face and chest.
and as dazai watched his cum drip down your chin and onto your chest, while you tasted the one near your lips by swiping it with your tongue, he was overcome by this sudden urge on which he acted on by extending his hand to grab his phone from the table as he quickly opened the camera app.
"fuck, you look so good. makes me wanna do things to you which you aren't ready for --" dazai clicked a picture before immediately tossing his phone on the table to look down at your chest heaving up and down as tears finally flowed down from your eyes as you harshly rubbed your thighs together to create friction.
"-- oh my good baby, you were so good for me so why are you crying now? come to daddy and let me make you feel good too, yeah?" dazai cooed as he pouted in faux sympathy and as you sniffled while nodding, dazai felt his dick hardening again.
"sit on the floor and spread your legs for me baby," he demanded and watched as you quickly sat down before parting your legs open and then looking up at him.
the sight of you sitting on the floor, clothes messed up as your face was covered by his cum and your tears along with his heaving chest, dazai smirked before nudging his soaked foot near your inner thigh and watched you whine out.
the erotic sight satisfying the corrupted and making the corruptible addicted to this thrill.
"daddy, want you! please touch me now!" you drawl out, begging as you try to hump yourself against his foot.
"should i?" dazai teased you who was being tormented by your own arousal and you sobbed softly which made dazai breath heavily, "of course i should, you were so good f'me after all baby. sucking me off so good, you really are my good girl. always doing what i am asking."
he raised you to stand at your feet before he guided you to sit on his dick, hissing as your cold pussy (due to being bare all this while) swallowed his dick and he leaned forwards to lick his cum and tears dropping down your face, all while you whined at finally feeling the warm sensation of his cock entering your aching hole, how grateful you are right now cannot be measured but felt due to how every cell in your body is basically floating in the sea of pleasure.
"gonna make sure you remain my good girl your entire life. shit, you drive me mad. you are so addicting that i just can't help myself but want to ruin you, to corrupt you." whispering against your ears should have made you smile in shyness but the way dazai pinched your nipple through the satin top, you aren't sure if you even heard him properly, back arching to which dazai laughed at.
"you are so mean to me." you sniffle, raising your hand with the intention of pinching his neck but at the same moment, dazai thrusted upwards and your same hand immediately grabbed his forearm as you moaned out.
"yet you like it, no? i can feel you gushing out baby, god you are so wet." he snickered, referring to your slick which trailed down your inner thighs to strain his sweatpants but you didn't care for all your mind focused on was his dick trapped between your walls, the length feeling you up and touching places your own fingers couldn't.
"please fuck me, fuck me harder. just wanna be your dumb girl." you sniffle as the tears for some reason are on a display on your eyes for dazai to admire as if they were the art and he is the artist, your hands traveled before resting on the middle of his chest as you gripped his shirt, looking at him and the sight made something, perhaps restraint, snap within the chambers of dazai's body.
the chair was pushed a bit backwards as dazai stood with you still on his lap, hands under your thigh and gripping your ass cheeks to hold you before he settled you down on his cold table, he leaned forwards to grab his laptop, opening the drawer in which he placed his laptop inside before slamming the drawer shut as if he is in a hurry and cannot care enough to be gentle or patient with other trivial matters when you are sniffling on his dick, trying to move yourself but his hand grabbing your knee had restrained you.
dazai turned back to look at you before he grabbed your jaw again and made you to lean back down on the cold table, his other hand making you spread your legs before he looked down at you and smirked, "you want to be fucked? beg for it then, my filthy bitch. and if i don't feel as if you are being sincere, i won't be touching you so you better get those preety tears rolling down, yeah? they aren't just for decoration now, are they? fucking use them to beg. cry and beg for me, baby." and with the completion of his demand, dazai thrusted into you once to let you taste the pleasure which is right infront of you, laughing at your small moan before he stopped moving to tell you to begin, hands holding your hips.
and if there is something dazai taught you, it's to know when and how to beg for something expensive and how to beg for him.
━━━━━━━ 💋 end.
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