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rowarn · 22 days

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hybrid au part 3 - FINAL

other parts: one | two

cw: major character death, angst, happy ending tho, lack of communication, loving!kyle agenda, mentions of price finally

a/n: SO THAT'S IT. i hope it was worth the wait!!!! mwah!!!

Kyle noticed the way your light dimmed the following days. He was at a loss, one day you're bouncing off the walls and filling every room with the sweet sound of your purrs and the next it's cold and quiet.

He tried everything, bringing home fragrant, expensive food and snacks, toys, whatever he could find that he thought would make you smile again. But nothing seemed to work.

When you spend the entire day curled up on the couch, blankly watching TV, he decided he had enough.

The following day, he was hooking your collar around your neck and forcing you to go outside into the sunshine.

Your eyes burned as you stepped out beneath the sun's blazing beams. Days spent indoors, sleeping most of the daytime hours away, had accustomed you to darkness. It was hot and you already wanted to go back inside but one pitiful look towards Kyle told you that you were not getting out of this easily.

So you hang your head and allow him to lead you down the sidewalk. The military housing area was surprisingly quiet, the only sound was a lawnmower somewhere nearby.

Kyle was silent, content with keeping his hand on the small of your back, a kind, protective gesture to assure you that he was still there as you glared at the sidewalk.

Before you knew it, the quietness of the neighborhood grew louder and louder until you were walking through the gate of the hybrid-park.

You looked around, watching all the happy hybrids and owners running around and playing lighthearted rounds of soccer or football. Casting a glance to Kyle, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks, glancing around, “We can take a lap around the park if you'd like?”

You shake your head, “Can we just sit?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he coos, nudging you in the direction of an empty bench.

You both take a seat, and look out across the park. While the nights still got quite chilly, it was beautiful during the day - a soothing breeze that rustled the green leaves in the trees and clear blue skies that you could look at for hours.

You hated to admit it but - Kyle was right. You were starting to feel better, like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Being cooped up in the house didn’t help anything, in fact it probably made things worse.

A hand patted your head and you looked over to see Kyle beaming, as if he could see the tension just melt off of you.

“I'm going to get us something to drink,” he muttered as he stood up, “Lemonade okay with you?”

You nod your head, fluffy ears bouncing atop your head as you do. Kyle has to resist the urge to reach out and pet them, forcing himself to turn around and find a drink stand to get the lemonade from.

You're staring off at a dog hybrid and a young boy playing a heated game of soccer when you hear your name being called.

Your head whips around to see Johnny standing there, tail wagging and eyes wide in shock. It's obvious he ran all the way over to where you are from the way his shoulders heave up and down with his heavy panting.

“I-” he clears his throat, thinking over what he wanted to say, “I've missed ye.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, making the blood rush in your ears, “Johnny…”

“Come home,” he says, desperate and breathless, “I miss ye and I want ye to come back.”

“Simon doesn't want me, Johnny…” you mutter, feeling shame burn at your cheeks as you look down at your hands - nails neatly filed down by Kyle just a few days ago.

“To hell with him!” he spits, “I want you back, isn't that enough?”

Your frown deepens. His selfishness ignites irritation within you, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes.

“Why?” you ask, voice breaking as the word slips past your lips, “Why should I have to live like that? Being hated while you get to be loved?” Johnny says your name but you cut him off before he can say anything else, “That's not fair, Johnny. I have Kyle now and he loves me! I'm happy with him.”

“Can't ye be happy with me too?” he asks, sad, teary eyes cutting right through your heart.

“Of course I could Johnny but…” before you can continue there's a sharp call of the pup’s name and both of you freeze.

Johnny looks over his shoulder to see Simon jogging up behind him, a fierce glare in his brown eyes. A rough, gloved hand grabs the back of the hybrid’s collar.

“What the hell do you think you're doin’ runnin’ off like that?” Simon snaps, anger masking the clear worry he had experienced at his missing companion.

“I was just…” Johnny’s eyes drift to you and that's when Simon acknowledges your existence.

The sneer on his face is clear even through the mask and it makes you shrink in on yourself, ears flattened back. Even after all this time, the sting of his rejection remains strong and hurts just the same.

“What’s a gutter rat like you doin’ here?” Simon snaps.

It annoys him that you're always at the source of his problems with Johnny. Whenever the pup misbehaves, you're always there. A bad influence. Typical cat.

You look at Johnny. He doesn’t meet your gaze, instead staring up at his owner with an apologetic expression. You want him to speak up. You want him to defend you, to tell Simon to be nice or to apologize or tell him what you mean to him.

But Johnny just sighs, “Sorry, Si.”

The lack of defense towards you in the face of Simon solidifies everything for you in that moment. You look down at your lap, the crack in your heart only aching and stinging more and more with every beat of silence that passes between the three of you.

Something ice cold touches the back of your neck and you yelp, launching yourself off the bench and onto the ground. Laughter fills your ears and you turn to glare at Kyle who holds a large plastic cup of lemonade - the cold thing he’d just surprised you with.

“Sorry, love!” he apologizes but the laughter shows he's anything but.

Soap speaks up then, asking if Kyle knows you. Your owner’s brown eyes shine with pride as he affectionately ruffles your hair.

“Found them on the street and brought them home!” Kyle tells them, sounding much like a proud father, “Best decision of my life!”

Your cheeks burn at his praise, his kind, loving words remedy the painful stinging in your heart that had been brought on by your previous owner. You take the cup of lemonade when he offers it to you, taking a sip and cringing at the sour taste that hits your tongue – much to Kyle’s amusement.

“You guys are welcome to come over anytime,” Kyle says, smiling as he affectionately pets your ears, “I’m sure this cute kitten would love to have a friend to hang out with.”

“Yeah…maybe,” Simon mumbles, sending you a sidelong glance that was cold and empty – telling you everything you needed to know without saying it. Absolutely not.

You find that you don’t mind that much. The idea of never seeing Simon or his painfully hateful gaze was nice. But when you looked at Johnny, who was staring at you in despair – you find yourself mumbling in response, “Maybe someday.”

The hope in Johnny’s eyes seers into your mind, even long after you’ve parted ways and gone home for the day.

The days pass in relative ease. The depressive rut you found yourself in melts away and Kyle is thrilled to see that you’ve returned to your bright, bubbly self. You greet him at the door when he walks in, sit and purr beside him while you both eat dinner together, curl up against his side and happily snooze the night away.

It’s peaceful bliss.

But one evening, Kyle returns home and tosses his heavy duffle bag onto the floor with a thunk. You get up to greet him, stretching your arms high above your head before padding over to him with a sleepy smile on your face. Kyle opens his arms for you, letting you tuck yourself into his chest for a hug. A loud purr emanates from your chest that only seems to make Kyle’s shoulders drop.

“What’s the matter?” you ask when you catch a look at his face when he pulls away; brows furrowed and lips in a tight line.

“Just got some sad news, that’s all, lovie,” he mutters, patting your head before he moves into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

“What news?” you ask, following after him, tail swishing nervously behind you.

Did his parents pass away? Did a friend get hurt?

Kyle sets out some vegetables on the counter, hunting around for a knife before sighing, “You remember Simon and Johnny? We met them at the park the other day?”

You nod your head, “Of course.”

“There was an accident a couple days ago,” Kyle explains, slowly chopping up the celery on the cutting board, “Johnny got hit. He didn’t make it. Simon’s tore up about it.”

It feels like everything freezes right then and there for you. You no longer hear the chopping of the knife, no longer hear Kyle's voice or the sound of traffic outside on the street. All you can hear is the pounding in your ears and the sound of your own breathing.

Images flash behind your eyes in your grief. You can see Johnny’s boyish smile and his boisterous laugh emanating down the hallway. You can see him so clearly, wrapped around you as you snuggle and snooze together as the rain falls outside. You can hear the animated way he would tell you stories, waving his hands around and his tail thumping loudly on the floor.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a hand cup your cheek. You blink away the tears and Kyle’s face comes into view, worry etched onto it.

“What is it, lovie? Why are you crying?” he asks, clearly concerned.

“Johnny’s dead?” you ask, voice broken and wobbly as you fight to talk through tears.

“Yeah, love,” Kyle coos, thumbing beneath your eyes to rub away some tears, “Why are you so upset?”

Everything tumbles from your lips then. You tell him about how you lived on the street, how your life changed the day you met a rambunctious pup who wouldn’t take no for an answer until he had himself a friend. You tell Kyle about how, even though Simon was awful to you, Johnny was a light in the dark and how much you adored him and how much he meant to you. You tell him how Simon threw you out like trash and how much it hurt and how much you missed Johnny despite everything.

Kyle held you through it all, tucking you tenderly against his chest as you cried it all out.

“I had no idea, lovie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead when your breathing becomes erratic.

“I-I never got to settle things with him,” you wail, “He wanted me to come home and I-I couldn’t give him an answer.”

Kyle sighs, cupping the back of your head, rocking you back and forth until your cries quiet down to hiccuping sniffles, “It’ll be alright, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn't know how he can make this hurt go away or help you soothe the grief you’re experiencing. All he can do is hold you close and comfort you whenever you need.

This time, when Kyle notices how sad you are as the days pass, he doesn’t force you to leave the house or do anything. He just lets your sadness run its course, doing what he can to ease your burden by making your favorite dishes and letting you watch your favorite movies over and over again until he can practically recite them by heart.

There’s a knock at the door that startles the both of you one evening. Kyle’s on his feet in seconds, hand drifting towards the firearm he keeps nearby before he looks through the peephole on the door and relaxes.

You peek over the back of the couch as he opens the door. Simon stands there.

Although he is masked, you can practically see how worn down and utterly devastated he is.

“What’s up?” Kyle asks, hand twitching to reach out for the older man but thinks better of it. “Do you need something?”

“I wanna talk to that one,” Simon nods in your direction, where you’re still peeking over the couch.

Kyle turns to look at you over his shoulder, asking your consent. You think it over for a few seconds before you nod your head. Not like Simon would do anything with Kyle here.

He steps aside to let the larger man enter and closes the door, giving an excuse about getting drinks before disappearing into the kitchen.

Simon’s heavy boots vibrate the floor as he takes a few large steps towards you. You scoot to the other side of the couch when he sits down, the couch bouncing with his added weight.

His hands are folded between his knees where he rests his elbows on them. His tattooed skin ripples and flexes as he nervously fidgets with his hands.

“Johnny wanted you to come home,” he starts out, staring intently at the floor. You swear you can see tears beading at his lower lash line as he says his companions name, “So I’m here to see if you will.”

“You want me back?” you ask softly, anxiously pulling a pillow into your lap.

Simon nods, “It’s what Johnny wanted. He cared about you, loved you. You’re all I have left of him.”

You’re silent at that.

Despite everything, your heart aches for Simon. He adored Johnny more than anything – even if he hated you, his love for the pup was palpable. You could see it in his face every time he saw Johnny, eyes scrunching up happily. Johnny was his world and now that world was gone and Simon was left with nothing but bitter emptiness and a void that he was desperate to fill.

You found yourself opening your mouth, ready to agree – ready to be the one to soothe your ex-owners devastating hurt. But then you found yourself looking into the kitchen, to Kyle’s back. He was hunched over the counter, vigorously mixing something in a bowl and you realized that you didn’t want to leave him.

Kyle was yours. Kyle was everything you could ever need or want. He wanted and loved you when you thought no one else would. He didn’t give up on you even when you were difficult and cold. He cared about you, thought about you every day. He gave you everything you wished for so desperately during your time living with Simon.

“I can’t,” you find yourself whispering, tears filling your eyes at how much it hurt to turn Simon away, “I know Johnny would want me to be with you, to make sure you’re okay without him but…I love Kyle and I want to stay with him.”

“So that’s it then?” Simon asks, voice small and weaker than you’ve ever heard it before. You know there’s a crushing weight on his heart right now, knowing he will be going home alone to a painfully empty and cold house.

“Yeah…” You whisper, unable to look up at him as he rises to his feet.

Kyle comes out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl in his hands, asking Simon if he was okay as he passes by him to the front door. The larger man just grunts in response and opens the door. The quiet click of it closing is all you hear of his departure before the warm bowl is in your lap.

It’s a bowl of broth that makes your mouth water. The fact Kyle had made it for your just because warmed your heart.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you, arm tossed over the couch behind you, fingers mindlessly stroking over the fuzzy surface of your ear.

“He wanted me to go home with him,” you respond, taking a sip of the broth.

“You said no?” he asks. You catch the worry in his tone – like he was scared you were going to tell him you were leaving him soon.

But you nod and his body relaxes in relief, “He only wanted me back because I reminded him of Johnny. He didn’t really want me, just the image of Johnny.”

Kyle nods, leaning over to kiss your temple, “That man loved that pup. But I’m glad you’re here to stay.”

You look over at him from over the bowl of broth as you sip it, “Yeah?”

“I would have let you go if that’s what you really wanted but…” He looks a little sheepish as he continues, “It would have hurt to see you go, kitty. I meant it when I said adopting you was the best decision of my life.”

You place the bowl down on the coffee table before launching yourself into his arms. He grunts as your weight slams against him, knocking him back onto the couch as he laughs. His arms wrap around you in a bear hug, squeezing you so hard that your ribs ache but you don’t even think about trying to pull away.

Though you don’t say it, he knows that you’re his to keep and that you love him just as much as he loves you. He couldn’t imagine life without you now.

BONUS:

“I think my boss is gettin’ impatient to meet you, you know,” he mumbles in your shoulder.

“Your boss?” you ask, voice almost too quiet to hear over your loud purring.

“Yeah, the old man’s been dyin’ to meet the cute kitten I talk about all the time at work,” he explains.

“You talk about me?” you ask, peeking up shyly.

He grins, “All the time. I think everyone’s sick of my voice at this point. But the Captain's really been begging to come and meet you. I’ve been waiting for a good time to bring it up. He’s a bit of a lover so you’d have to put up with all the pets and hugs he has to offer.”

Your eyes shine in interest, “I want to meet him!”

Kyle chuckles, reaching up to pet one of your twitching ears, “I’ll make the call then and set up dinner.”

You were excited to meet a new person. You hoped he was as kind and gentle as Kyle was. And even though the idea of Simon sitting alone and hurt in his house with nothing but the memories of his best friend, you weren’t going to let that stop you from opening up new chapters in your own life.

do not repost on other websites, translate, or modify. reblogs welcome!

#simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #cod x reader

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bunnys-kisses · 1 month

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werewolf!simon 🐺 (bc happy 3,000 followers to me <3)

you met because you were lost in the woods while camping. it wasn't your fault that all of the trees looked the same! but it led you into simon who led you back to his cabin so you could call the park ranger! simon even made you some tea before he called the land-line.

park ranger johnny or 'soap' said that the truck was out of service so it would have to wait until tomorrow. "you can be a gentleman, right simon?" he laughed over the phone. simon grumbled in response, this wasn't going to be the best idea.

it was the full moon after all.

simon allowed you your personal space as he went about his cabin. he even allowed you to use his bed for the evening. you told him that you were fine on the couch! the issue was that the bedroom could be locked from the outside, usually for his own protection. but tonight it was for yours.

"um... mister simon." you said, "i'm sorry that i'm intruding so much."

"it's alright." he got up from his spot in front of the fireplace. he walked past you and rubbed your hair as he went by, "the woods aren't a safe place."

"i was told only deer hang around here."

he chuckled, "you should be more afraid of men." he went to the nearby kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. he opened it with ease and took a sip, "man destroys."

"well." you stepped forward in a daring move, "you're a man and you're taking good care of this place." you swallowed, "i don't think the entire species is doomed."

he chuckled and took another sip, "i'm not a man."

you stilled, "so like an alien."

he put the beer down and pulled away from the counter, "more beast than man. every full moon, beasts like me roam the woods. sometimes we get a little hungry."

"so you would've eaten me?" you swallowed, you balled your fists just in case you had to make an escape.

he approached you, but you were frozen still. instead of touching you with force, it was so gentle. his thumb was dragged down your cheek, "no. i don't hurt pretty things. but i would've snapped my fangs at anything that tried to come near your tent. so for your sake, stay in my room. so i can't hurt you."

you found the courage to touch him back. your fingers dragged down the scar on his face, "but what if they come too close to your home?"

he smiled a little, "i'll give you my shotgun."

you swallowed, "well.. mister simon. maybe i need your protection?" it was better that you had a familiar face around the cabin instead of leaving it all up to chance.

he cupped your face, "i could hurt you."

you shrugged a little, "i'd rather you hurt me then some other man."

he brushed his thumb across your cheek, "well. then i guess i have to be on good behaviour then." then leaned in to kiss you on your forehead, "but i'll need to cover you with my scent."

you were soon stripped, you realized that simon has no sense of modesty. eventually you were tossed on the bed like you were a bag of potatoes. and simon pressed his weight onto you.

you pressed under a man who could easily snap your bones. but instead, you were doing weird beast-esque skin to skin contact. he rubbed up against you.

"mister simon." you squeaked.

"it's just simon."

"are you sure i can't just wear some of your clothes." they would fit.

"nah. gotta get it right into the skin." he said gruffly as he continued to snuggle against you. you didn't know what scent he was putting on you. all you smelt was old spice and aftershave.

usually for simon, he would've been pent up by now. the day was slowly waning. but he found himself getting tired. the usually sharp werewolf was turning into a metaphorical mush. it was like he felt safe in your arms.

the comfort of simon's bed plus your time hiking left you feeling drowsy too. it wasn't long before you both fell asleep. you didn't even feel the man turn into a wolf.

you simply turned to your side and get comfy against the thick hair that covered you. it was like sleeping under one of those expensive shag rugs that rich people had.

that paired with the weighed allowed you to sleep soundly as the full moon passed the sky. you were a relaxing force to this werewolf and you didn't even know it.

the next morning, johnny came by to pick you up but instead found you under the enormous weight of one simon riley. he was soundly snoring and the ranger just chuckled to himself.

"i'll come back later so you don't ma head off."

(this could be expanded on later. i'm calling it the 'howlin' for you' au aka the werewolf au)

#bunny speaks #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #werewolf!ghost #howlin' for you au #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #werewolf au #werewolf

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animehideout · 6 months

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Jujutsu Kaisen men Green - Red flags Part I

🟢🔴

part 2 / part 3 / part 4

Gojo Satoru:

💚 Green Flags:

• Spoils you.

• Buys you very expensive gifts from expensive brands.

• Feeds you well and he would pay.

• Protective of you, literally wouldn't let anyone hurt you.

• Very fun to be around, always makes you laugh.

• A huge tease, especially in public.

• His love language is physical touch.

• Would touch you anywhere, everywhere.

• Lends you his clothes, and literally drenches it in his perfume before giving it to you.

• Asks for consent first.

❤️ Red Flags:

• Not open when it comes to his problems.

• He could be overprotective, he thinks you're weak and can't defend yourself.

• Always flexes that he's the strongest and it makes you insecure.

• Wouldn't share his sadness, he always wants to appeal strong in front of you.

• When he feels sad, he doesn't give you the opportunity to comfort him, so he leaves the house and comes back when he feels better.

• Gives you the silent treatment.

• Sassy when it comes to arguments and it makes you boil.

• Brutally honest.

• Avoids apologizing first.

Toji Fushiguro:

💚 Green Flags:

• Loyal af.

• Takes a good care of you.

• Puts you first and above anyone and anything else.

• Works hard for you and to make sure you're living comfortably.

• Protects you at all costs, even if his life is on the line.

• Cooks for you.

• Brings for you breakfast in bed.

• Holds you close every night.

❤️ Red Flags:

• Very dominant, not a chance to be a switch.

• Overprotective, wouldn't let anyone breathe your direction.

• Would literally kill anyone who tries to steal you away from him ( trying to get your number).

• Can be really rough, and can't stop himself because he enjoys it.

• He gets jealous very very easily.

• Gets really scary when he's mad at you.

• Can be really manipulative when he wants your forgiveness.

• Sometimes he forces you into things.

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phantasmagoria-in-neverland · 1 year

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Hi again! May I also please request some headcanons of what being married to various Star Wars characters is like?

Various Star Wars Characters Headcanons: What being Married to them is like.

Hi, of course you can! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. I'm going to get started on your other request as soon as I am able, and also, I didn't add Cal to this one given how lengthy it already is, but feel free to ask me to. Oh, one last thing, if anyone wants to request Wedding Day or Proposals Headcanons you absolutely can, I would have added them in this one, but as I've said, it's way too long. Enjoy!

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

-I am absolutely convinced Obi-Wan would make the perfect husband, if his way of life didn't get as in the way as it does. Still, if he has decided to marry you, he surely has gotten over any conflicting feelings about breaking the code, and has made you and your marriage his absolute top priority. Obi-Wan is nothing if not a deeply committed man, and once he is pouring all of it on you, you can be certain he will fight to make your relationship work against each and every odd.

-Obi-Wan is, most of all, a caring and attentive partner. He always makes the most of the time you spend together, and never makes you feel clingy or annoying if the separation ever gets to you. He never forgets your anniversaries or what and where your "firsts" together have been, and his gifts, while not necessarily expensive, are always super thought out.

-He is an amazing communicator with basically endless patience, fights with him are practically nonexistent, and even when they do happen he goes about it super rationally and never ever raises his voice. He would bend himself backwards for your happiness and safety and he always pays attention to make sure you are 100% comfortable with him, and with coming to him about any issues or feelings you might have.

-Obi-Wan proposed to you with the intention of letting you know just how committed he is to the family you are building together and how much he trusts you. So really, jealousy is definitely not an issue in your marriage. Still, nobody knows about it, not even Ani, even though he and a few other close friends definitely suspect something. Especially because Obi-Wan absolutely refuses to not have his wedding ring hidden somewhere on his person. (There have been... a few close calls because of it, you're both lucky he can charm his way out of almost anything.)

-He is very domestic, or at least does his best to be, with his duties in the way and all. He always tries to cook at least one meal for you, and he absolutely adores coming home to you and something you've prepared for him (no matter how good you are at it. Honestly if you're still learning, he is your number one supporter and encourager.) He never complains about chores and does his best to make them enjoyable for the both of you, if you have something you'd rather not do, whatever it is he is more than happy to take over.

-Obi-Wan is great with children, and if you decided to have some after the fall of the Order, he would be an amazing dad. Just keep in mind that he might be quite a bit more apprehensive/protective after you are forced into hiding, he blames himself for a lot of things and it might take a while for him to be ready to expand your family. But don't worry, once you both find some peace again he will be ecstatic about it, after all, there's nothing in the Universe worth more than you guys.

Anakin Skywalker:

-Anakin wouldn't be a bad husband by any means, but he's got some work to do on himself you might have to help him through. Still, I assure you, he would do his absolute damned best to be great for you, and he would love you more than it should be humanly possible. Nothing could ever even come close to meaning as much as you do to him, he would literally let the whole galaxy burn if it made you happy. Which might, depending on you, be one of those tendencies you should pull him away from. Or don't, no judgment here.

Anyway, what matters the most is: Anakin is devoted.

-Ani is very empathetic, especially when it comes to you. Sometimes you feel like he might understand your moods even better than you do, which means, as soon as he feels like you might be even a little bit sad or stressed, Ani is dropping everything to come cheer you up. Which no doubt will get him in trouble, but it's not like he cares. He can be a bit clingy/overprotective of you, honestly. Again, if you want him to be a bit more responsible then you're gonna have to help him work on it. Won't ever forget your "firsts" or anniversaries, but gifts are not really his forte, so except a few handmade pieces every now and again he would much rather celebrate by going somewhere and creating new memories together.

-While he has no trouble at all understanding you, Ani has quite a few problems with communicating himself and his thoughts. Half the time he tells you every little detail of what's going through his mind, which could easily lead to him overthinking if you don't help him calm down. And every other time he can't even get his mouth open to tell you how his day is going, which usually happens when he is particularly upset about something, luckily it's easy to tell it's happening and you won't have too much trouble coaxing it out of him (He really really wants to tell you everything, he just doesn't know where to even begin.) So, even though fights can happen quite often, mostly because Ani tends to be a bit emotional about things he cares for, they are easily resolved. He refuses to go to sleep without you/knowing you mad at him, so really, they don't last more than a few hours.

-Anakin proposed to you shortly after you confessed your feelings for each other, seeing no point in waiting since he knows with his entire heart that you are his other half. Jealousy might be a little bit of an issue, mostly because nobody knows that you two belong to each other and the secrecy drives him up the walls, and as I've said, Ani can be a bit hot-blooded about what he loves. But honestly, it's an easy fix, just don't spend more time with someone else than you do him, and let him hold you close if he needs it.

-Speaking of the secrecy, Ani didn't even think twice about breaking the code for you, what makes you think he wouldn't try to scream how much he loves you from every rooftop in Coruscant? Honestly, unless you don't mind all the endless problems that you and especially him would have to face with the Jedi Order, you're gonna have to be really convincing to make him see reason. And even then, he's not going to act like you're not the most important person in his life, or accept that he can't kiss you whenever you feel like it, or be ashamed of displaying his wedding ring. The best he's going to do is probably move the both of you behind a column or something... as if that wouldn't be suspicious in a room full of force sensitives. So really, your relationship is only a secret because the people around you would rather pretend it is. Mostly because they recognise that you are good for him, Obi-Wan most of all.

-Anakin might not be the best at taking care of the house, or have much patience for chores, but he's not gonna leave all the burden to you. He's going to help until he completely runs out of patience and then he's going to distract both of you and make it a "tomorrow's" problem. I feel like he'd be great with kids if you decided to have them, especially if he's gotten away from the Order. And also, having them might really help him mature/become a little more responsible, he really wants to do right by you.

Luke Skywalker:

-Luke is a sweetheart whose first priority is always his family, and that really shines through in your marriage. I mean, have you seen him with his father? There's nothing you could do that would make Luke give up on you, ever. He thinks the world of you no matter what, and he never blames you whenever you can't be the best version of yourself. Saying he's an understanding partner would be putting it very lightly.

-Luke treats you as if you were his shining light in the darkness, his saving grace, the beacon of hope in his life. He always wants you to feel appreciated and valued, and he does his absolute best to let you know that through his actions and words, but you can see it the most when any type of celebration comes up. He has a list of all the things you casually mention during conversations that you might want or need, and he gifts them to you any time he has even just a slight excuse to.

-Luke is also a great communicator, and he always keeps his calm during conflicts. He does his absolute best to put himself in your shoes if you disagree on something, and even when he can't he never makes you feel like your opinion is "wrong". Even though he might seem a bit plaintive to those who don't know him well, Luke only brings up even really small issues to avoid either of you stewing on it needlessly. It's much easier in the long run to just get things off your chest, and reach an understanding. So in the end, while disagreements surely happen, they extremely rarely evolve into fights.

-Luke proposed to you out of the simple and pure desire to be able to call you his family. There's nothing that brings him more joy than catching a glimpse of either his or your own ring shining on your fingers. It's like the physical proof that he is yours as you are his, that he has a home he belongs to. Leia and Han love you to bits, the happiness you bring to the family and most importantly to Luke, is the best thing they could've asked for. Han would say he knew you two would get together from the very start, but honestly, it was Leia who just felt it. Either way, the chemistry you two shared would have been hard to miss, which is why Luke didn't have much of a choice in telling them about your relationship. (It's difficult to keep feelings secret when your twin sister is force sensitive.)

-Luke isn't a jealous man by nature, but really, the sheer trust he has in you and what you two have is more than enough for him to never be bothered by those who flirt with you. And honestly, he understands them, how could they not want to, he's just unbelievably glad that out of everyone, you chose him.

-Luke is amazing at taking care of the house, (the perks of growing up on a farm) he never leaves messes behind, he knows how to cook, and any chore will be carried out efficiently and without complaints. His way of life is simple and peaceful, like a true Jedi, and depending on you, you'll either be the most homely and tranquil couple the galaxy has ever seen, or you will bring fun and excitement into his life and you'll balance each other out. Either way, he is amazing at going with the flow.

-For as much as your family means to him, Luke might still be a little hesitant about having kids. It's not as if he doesn't want them, stars no, but he has quite a few worries. Most of all, he fears turning out like his own father, and how fragmented and unsteady the Galaxy is, even after the victory of the rebellion. Honestly he just wants them to be happy and have an easier life than he did, which he's deadly afraid of not being able to provide. It might take a while to reassure him, and you'd have to be patient, but he's going to be the happiest man in the whole Universe as soon as he's holding your child in his arms, so it's gonna be worth it.

Han Solo:

-It would take a while for Han to realize that hey, this is serious, that he truly really might want to spend the rest of his life by your side. There would be a time when that realization would frighten him, make him pull away from anything he isn't ready to lose: you. Commitment is not something that comes easy to him, and it would be the roughest patch in your entire relationship, it would take lots of reassurance and persistence on your side, but once that is over, oh boy is he committed. When Han finally accepts the true extent of his feelings for you, that he now can't for the life of him let you slip through his fingers, be prepared, cause he's gonna make this work, you're stuck with him now. (And Chewie)

A relationship with him is fun, he knows how to have a good time and he wants any time you two spend together to become a good memory, even under less than ideal circumstances. He's going to make the most inappropriate jokes at the most inappropriate times, he's going to tease you like his life depends on it, and he's going to make you laugh like nobody else ever could. It only takes putting up with his enormous but quite fragile ego, really.

He has a tendency to avoid taking anything too seriously, which depending on you might get a little annoying at times, but he is also really dependable when it comes down to it. Sure, he is going to complain to hell and back, but he would die for you in a heartbeat, anything less than that is just more material to jokingly throw back at you when he wants to get out of doing something. It never works.

-Celebrations and anniversaries are Han’s favourite days, does he only remember about a few of them the literal day of? absolutely, but damn him if he doesn't make them special. Han is all about living in the moment, he wants every second dedicated to celebrating you or your relationship to be memorable, and he can be cheesy when it comes to it, just never say that out loud. You guys' song is playing, even tho he insists you don't have one? He is holding your hand or dancing with you. What do you mean he's being romantic, he just had to show off his moves. You have a favourite food and you suddenly find it in the kitchen? Don't look at him like that, he didn't do it for you, he was just craving it and was nice enough to get you some, even tho there's only one plate and you are pretty sure you can still spot the residues of a failed cooking attempt.

He might not get you a gift every time, cause that's not really his forte, and depending on the time you might be a little short on money, but there are a few really significant ones every now and again, like the dress or suit you’ve been saving up for, or the necklace he bought you when you'd been away from each other for a few days and stars did he miss you.

-Han is… not great at communicating in a way that doesn't contain an excessive amount of snark. It's never insulting, and he makes sure to stay clear of anything that might actually hurt you, but this man grew up with only fighting spirit and sarcasm on his side, and he still has a hard time remembering that he doesn't have to defend himself from you, that showing you his emotions and caring doesn’t mean he’s pathetic. The longer you two are together the better he becomes at taking a step away to calm down before speaking, sure, your relationship is still made of almost constant banter, but now it's playful and lighthearted, and Han truly makes an effort to be serious when you want him to be. Hotheaded and stubborn as he is, he would never hurt you on purpose.

-Han proposed right after he got over the mental breakdown that came with realizing the extent of his feelings for you, now that he's aware? It's ride or die. Really, there have been very very few people that he has ever cared for more than himself, he would trade his happiness for yours, he couldn't love you more than he already does, couldn't love nobody else the same way.

Still, this man's jealousy is through the roof. It's definitely not because he doesn't trust you, but he can't help but fear the day you might meet someone worthier of your affection then him. For as cocky as he tends to be, Han knows he is not always the easiest to get along with, so just let him stand close to you when you're out, and wrap his arm around you when somebody is “clearly” trying to flirt with you, and he will be back to his confident self in no time. It would be even easier to deal with if you were comfortable with letting him tell everyone and their families that you're married. No but seriously, there is no chance your relationship was ever a secret, Han has no filter when it comes to bragging and oh boy is he proud of you. And lets not forget the wedding ring, being a pilot he mostly wears it on a chain around his neck, but that thing is on display. He even develops the endearing habit of holding onto it when he is doing something just a little too risky, you're his lucky charm, and if you were to show off your ring just as much as he does? Well, you might never hear the end of it, but you can tell he gets sentimental about it.

-Han never thought he'd be one for domesticity, and in a lot of ways he still isn't. He can't cook to save his life, he despises chores so much that you can pretty much just thank Chewie if the Falcon is a somewhat livable space at all, and some of his clothes have holes in them he barely tried to mend. But you have made a huge difference, and even tho he won't even try and help you when it comes to stoves, he'll take care of the coffee and he'll set the table and you don’t even have to ask. He won't help you and Chewbacca with the cleaning and tidying but he'll make sure to stop leaving things around and pick up after himself to give you an easier time (not a day goes by that Chewie doesn't thank the stars for your existence). And he still fusses about his clothes, but he makes you something to drink and watches you sew with so much awe you feel like you're hanging the stars in the sky.

So yes, he still sucks at it, but he loves what you two have more than anything in the world, and he tries, he really does, cause you make him want to be the best version of himself. And when it comes to kids, well… parenthood scares him half to death, but he knows it will be amazing if he has you to learn with, and no matter what obstacles your family will have to face, he promises you, he'll make it work.

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin:

-Din is a family man through and through. He would be dedicated to your relationship from the very beginning, and even more so now that you are married. If he has gotten into a serious partnership with you, especially if it happened after he found the child, it means that you are it for him, you are the love of his life, the parent of his kids, his clan, the only one he will ever have by his side. And it's useless to say that he is loyal to a fault, he will have your back against anything and anyone, come hell or high water, and he will protect you even on the smallest of things as if his life depended on it. Anything that is important to you automatically becomes top priority for him as well, and you will never want for anything as long as there is breath in his lungs. It can be a bit much at times, especially because he pretty much puts you on a pedestal, but it's not as if he wants you to be perfect, he knows your faults and embraces them, he just can't help but be adoring of every single part of you.

With him, you will never even have a chance to look down on yourself, you and Grogu are the best thing that could have ever happened to him, and he will remind you of that until his voice gets hoarse if he thinks you don't believe it.

-Din is not big on celebrations, but he always does something to make you feel appreciated, and he remembers all of them. Even if he doesn't bring you anywhere fancy, he knows quite a few beautiful and secluded spots, where the two of you can simply bask in each other's presence and be at peace. A simple but thought out gift he remembers you like, your favourite song in the background, any type of food you like the most. He's observant and he knows you like the back of his hand, so rest assured, the entire day will be tailored to fit your mood and preferences. And if you do something for him? Stars, you just might kill him. No, his voice isn't shaking, he's fine, don't worry he just needs a minute.

-Din never raises his voice at you, and he has the patience of a saint, but he isn't great at expressing his own thoughts and feelings. He listens to everything you have to say, and because of how much he respects you and values your opinion, he always takes the points you make into consideration with great attention. Din hates fighting with you and he isn't afraid to admit when he's in the wrong, so usually arguments end fairly easily, but he also isn't afraid to stand his ground, which is where most of your troubles reside. If he has listened to your perspective and still thinks he's right, he can come across as a little… patronizing. He would never believe himself better than you of course, quite the opposite, but he can at times sound curt or dismissive, even when he doesn't mean to be. Just tell him that, and he will be more than willing to try and express himself better, you might have to help him with it tho.

-Din proposed to you almost out of the blue, you probably wouldn't expect it, and he might not even have a ring on him, but his speech would be so heartfelt and honest that you might have a hard time holding back tears (and honestly, once you say yes he would too, you just wouldn't be able to see it). I imagine it would happen something like this: he came home from a job that had dragged on for a little too long, ready to just collapse somewhere on the floor of the Crest, and forgetting in his tiredness that he is not alone anymore. He would be almost taken aback once he opens the door, finding the lights still on and you, with the child held tightly in your arms, asleep on his chair in the cockpit, clearly having tried to stay up to wait for him. It would be a sudden but gentle realization, that now he has everything he has ever wanted and never thought he could have, that you are his family, and he has to officialise that, he has to properly make you a clan of three. And oh is he itching to rip off his helmet and finally let you see him. Altho he would rather do things properly, because you deserve nothing less, he’d just have to ask you right in that moment.

Any jealousy Din might have would evaporate once you get married, but please, do flaunt your ring, he will melt.

-There's not much space for domesticity in the life of a bounty hunter, nor is it a Mandalorian specialty, but against all odds, Din craves it more than anything. You are his home, and he tries his damn hardest to be the same for you, and he's quite the natural at it, although the last time he's experienced it himself has been way back when he still had his parents, so he is a little rusty.

Chores are swiftly dealt with, he'd much rather do it all himself than make you do it, and he rarely accepts help unless he's basically dead on his feet and things can't wait, because he's stubborn like that. But if you were to cook for him and the kid? And he could watch you do it? And maybe you have some music playing in the background? And stars forbid there's a smile on your face? Din is convinced he has died at some point and this is heaven, and he doesn't deserve it at all but you're clearly an angel and for some reason you care for him and he really hopes reincarnation isn't a thing because he wants to stay here with you for the rest of eternity. It's dramatic and he will never say it out loud, not like that at least, but he's sentimental at heart.

On the topic of kids, do I even have to say it? Din is more than willing to expand your family, especially if you were to somewhat settle down, and as we've all seen, he's a great dad.

Poe Dameron:

-Poe would be an amazing husband. Affectionate to a fault, Poe is a very tactile person, which translates to him being quite physical in his demonstrations of love. If he can, he will always stand or sit close to you, feeling more at ease while sharing your space, and if you aren't uncomfortable, there would definitely be some hand-holding, or you could even sit in his lap honestly, he'd be happy about it.

He'd give you his arm when you are tired so that you can rest your weight on him, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist when you're walking together, lift you up and down from high places, especially when it comes to you climbing into a ship, especially if it is his ship (Yes, he knows very well that you are more than capable of doing things like this on your own, doesn't mean he can't dedicate his life to making it easier tho); He would offer you his hand to hold onto if you're walking on unsteady ground so that you won't risk falling, he would surprise hug you so much you'd come to expect it anytime (but really, the surprise part was just an excuse so it's not like he's gonna stop), would hoist you over his shoulders if you were ever too short to see or reach something, and give you piggy back rides at absolutely any time.

-Poe is also a very passionate and very charming man. You could be married for a hundred years, and he would still treat you as if he was trying to win you over, every chance he has to court you, he's gonna take it. Which is exactly why he thrives when it comes to celebrations and anniversaries. Flowers find you anytime he has a chance to go pick/buy any, which is far less often than he'd like given his position in the Resistance, but travelling so much means that he has a good excuse, every planet warrants at least one new bouquet to gift you.

He will either leave them somewhere for you to find, like on your bedside table when you wake up, or give them to you personally, while trying to wait until things have calmed down and not immediately after he is done embracing you when he returns to base. Both options are accompanied by a note he has written while away, whether the note is going to be extremely lovesick or downright flirty depends heavily on his mood at the time, and if your cheeks are going to be flaming hot by the end of them... well, that depends on your willpower.

Speaking of which, you might start to associate the flowers to a promise of safe return, and picking up on it, Poe will gift you a beautiful, specially commissioned pendant that has both of your favourite flowers on it, that can immortalise without withering his promise to be by your side until his dying day.

Also anything interesting he might see while travelling will be brought back to you, from clothes to special types of local chocolate to anything that correlates to a hobby of yours. Or, truth be told, anything that reminds him of you, and that is a lot of things, but he might keep some of those for himself, just to have a piece of you to hold close to his heart when he can't hold you.

-Poe hates arguing; sure, playful teasing or loving banter are his bread and butter, but actual fights make him more sad than angry. Of course, disagreements happen, and Poe is more than willing to listen to your point of view, before swiftly changing the subject and letting it be water under the bridge. Honestly, maybe influenced by his parents relationship, Poe believes in a somewhat fairytale-like kind of love, and most of the time he does manage to make it a reality, other times... well, sometimes fights just can't be avoided, especially when it comes to someone as impulsive as he is. He always finds a way to make it up to you tho, so that's good.

-Poe proposed to you after a dangerous mission that almost ended terribly wrong, with either you or him getting out of it by the skin of your teeth. He'd have been keeping the ring he had intended to propose with for the past couple of months, right in the breast pocket of his pilot suit, where his heart is. He'd had a grand proposal in mind, one that would be romantic and memorable, but never found the right time.

That all went out the ship the moment he got slapped right in the face with the reminder of just how possible it is for either one of you to not come back for the night, to die, and just like that, leave behind your relationship and your love, and all that you have been together. He didn't even let his feet touch the ground after jumping out of his X-wing before he went down on his knees. He of all people should know, that no time is better then right now, with his heart in his hands.

Now, it might come as a little bit of a surprise, but Poe isn't a jealous man, and not only because he is almost always draped over you in one way or another, but because he is incredibly sure that the two of you are soulmates. On the same note, there's absolutely no reason for you to worry either, while he might have been a bit of a flirt before, it all stopped the moment he took interest in you. Also, everybody knows that you belong to each other, and not just because the entire Resistance was invited to your wedding, but because Poe's absolute favourite topic of conversation is you. And if you're wondering, BB-8 was both the ring bearer and the flower girl at your wedding.

Speaking of rings, being a pilot Poe can't wear his on his finger, not that he would have anyway, when it looks so perfect on the same necklace that holds his mother's ring, right in front of it, with your name carved on the inside on display.

-Poe, as I've said before, is pretty much a hopeless romantic, so domestic life is definitely right up his alley. He knows how to cook, and he does so rather well, and with as happy as he is to prepare you homemade candlelit dinners, he attunes himself to your taste so much he could very well be considered your personal five stars chef. With Poe’s positive attitude towards pretty much anything, chores are definitely not something to be dreaded in your house. Stopping to dance and sing at some point or another is basically a requirement, and pillow fights are far more common than they should be for high ranking members of the Resistance, but it's so fun and lighthearted that time will run by just as fast as if you were out on a date.

Poe would love nothing more than to start a family with you, but you're both still young, and he is in no rush. Ideally, the two of you won't have to wait too long until your victory will once again bring stability to the Galaxy, and you could settle down on a beautiful planet (Yavin 4 sounds great to him) where you'd have all the stability needed to raise your children.

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koiiiiijiii · 25 days

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being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after

pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim

tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel

author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️

author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻

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⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you

⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new

⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers

⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…

⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground

⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you

⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel

⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school

⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can

⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone

⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…

⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet

⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this

⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.

⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.

⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later

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#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#lookism #lookism imagines #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism thoughts #jake kim #samuel seo #jake kim x reader #jake kim x reader x samuel seo #samuel seo headcanons #lookism samuel #lookism jake #samuel seo x reader

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moonrisecoeur · 2 months

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thoughts on this post aka detective leon and serial killer reader. warning for dark content obvi, mentions of weapons, blood, bodies, murder. also sub leon makes an appearance as usual lol. fem!reader too!!

sorry for the wait lol i’ve been folding laundry anyway let me cook

you know that fucking cop is onto you, he knows more than you want him to but for some reason, even when you know you’ve messed up and are sure you’re gonna be caught, you’re not. no one knows about the evidence you accidentally left behind, clues that trace back to you. when you go back to try and ruin the crime scene to throw the police off the scent, it’s all gone. just a dead body and all of the blood you love to spill.

it bugs you a little bit. where did it go? but you watch as the cops search the crime, hiding in the bushes behind the house when you see the cop you… you just know is the one who did it. he looks like he’s seen that crime scene already, and there’s something bunched into his pocket. that looks almost like your glove that got caught on something and left behind as you were escaping.

you realize he’s looking you dead in the eyes as you make painfully awkward eye contact with him. he smirks and looks away. you wonder why he isn’t telling his colleagues about how he saw you, you wonder why he seems almost amused by you. it’s driving you mad.

you’ve seen him before. you recognize him now. you don’t know his name, but he’s got blonde hair, long enough to cover his blue eyes. looks like a doll. he’s a detective, always showing up to crime scenes in those pretty, expensive suits. he wears a nice watch, cleans himself up well.

you get your hands on his file, all of his records, the time he spent as a patrol officer, back when he was younger. his hair was shorter then. his eyes a bit brighter. he was cute. and now… he’s much more than that. he’s distinguished.

—

leon saw you once, before you could run out when you realized the cops were coming in. he remembers how you looked. bloody, gloved hands holding a kitchen knife. you didn’t see him, but he saw you. he sees you again in the bushes, and you see him this time. it’s a moment where everything stops, and leon feels his dead heart pitter pattering like it hasn’t done in years.

you kinda lose the light in your soul when you become a detective. he’s more somber now than he was when he was on patrol, but what can you do?

he finds out everything he can about you, cross referencing the evidence he finds that everyone else seems to miss with every little thing he can gather, in hopes of figuring out your name, or anything about you, honestly.

he’s come to the conclusion that your sloppiness is caused from the pleasure you take in killing. you leave too much evidence behind, too many clues, christ it’s like you want to be caught, but leon can’t help but be fond of you now that you’re intentionally leaving clues for him to find. little messages like ‘for my favorite detective, ♡’ on notecards next to the body. no one knows what you mean. leon’s becoming more obsessed by the minute.

he’s learned everything about you, every motive, every killing, why, when, how you did it all, and his coworkers know nothing. they’re not even sure how many you’ve killed, much less know anything about you.

it’s betraying his morals, sure, but who really cares? he’s killed people before, he’s no better than you. sure, he tried to convince himself he did it to protect the innocent, but he’s got his own thirst for blood. can’t really blame you for doing for fun what he does for work. you lose your morals anyway when you’re a detective.

he covers for you, gives excuses and ideas to lead the other detectives in the wrong direction. destroys evidence for you. lies for you. he’s desperate for you attention, and he finally gets it when you come into the police station.

you’re not disguised, not dressed to hide your identity. you look.. normal. you smile at the person working the front desk. you’re polite, charming, courteous. leon almost passes you by before double taking and realizing that it’s you.

“well, hello, it’s nice to meet you, detective kennedy,” you smile, reaching out your hand for him to shake, which he does awkwardly. you realize that he’s a lot less cool than he seemed when you first saw him. his lack of social skill is almost charming.

“are you… what are you doing here? are you turning yourself in o-or something?”

“i wanted to see you,” you say simply to him.

he blinks, confused.

“do you want to speak with me? or should i just go, detective?”

“i.. i think we should talk,” he smiles back eventually, “i want to talk to you. really talk.”

you meet him later, after his shift. you tell him your story, your motives. even though he knows them, he lets you talk. he likes listening to you. he tells you about his work, what he’s done to protect you, and when you ask why, he shrugs, “you’re too pretty for prison.” he matches your bluntness.

it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing, amused by leon kennedy’s mind, how his brain even works.

he continues, “but listen, if you’re gonna keep… you know, killing people, you need to run it by me after the fact. i need to get there and make sure there’s no evidence that other detectives will find. don’t worry, i’ll get you a burner phone and everything. just call me when you do it. i’ll help.”

“hmm.. alright. now.. do i owe you anything for your.. protection, detective? should i.. show you how appreciative i am that you’re helping me get away with murder?” you lean in close, suggestively. leon can’t help that he’s easy to seduce.

“i.. i think you don’t owe me anything, but.. if you’d like..” he stutters. you smile. he’s so cute to play with.

he takes you back to his place. you tell him he wouldn’t like yours, with the victim you have tied to a chair in your bedroom. he raises an eyebrow, and you try to calm his worries by saying, “its fine, i drugged him so he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow… do you wanna watch me torture him?”

“i’m… okay, baby,” he says, his voice gravelly and soft at the same time.

you hook up obviously when you get back to his apartment, and it’s the best sex of his life. maybe it’s because he likes dominant women already, but there might also be something thrilling about a woman putting her hands around his throat who’s very well capable of squeezing until he stopped breathing entirely.

thankfully, you don’t asphyxiate him. you lay in his bed with him afterwards, and there’s something so strangely normal about the way you curl up into his side as he draws shapes on your back with his fingertips.

“are you ever.. gonna kill me?” he asks, out of the blue, stirring you from your drowsy state.

you look up at him, and he’s worried you’re considering it. there’s a gun on his nightstand. he panics. you would never get away with it, he’s sure. your dna is all over his body, his clothes, his apartment, surely you’re not that sloppy of a killers.

“i haven’t decided yet,” you say simply, resting your head on his chest.

“o-oh…”

you chuckle, sensing anxiety and tension in his body at your response to his question, “i would only ever do it if i thought you were gonna betray me or something, pinky promise. no matter how… beautiful you would look dying..”

he gulps, and you feel endeared by his fear. he’s.. cute when he’s nervous.

the next day, he wakes up. he puts on another suit, and another fancy watch. he drives you home before he goes to work, and he kisses your forehead before he gets back into his car, “am i gonna be seeing you again tonight?” he asks.

you chuckle, “i’m counting on it, handsome. trust me when i say i look very good in red.”

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #moon.dc #moon.w #moon.g

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urarakasdiary · 1 month

Text

-LILY OF THE VALLEY

Jjk men as your lover!

GOJO

He's head over heels for you and isn't ashamed of showing it.

Protective but not so much so that you feel controlled. He knows the limits.

Always picking/dropping you off. When you're out somewhere: spending time with friends, clubbing, etc. it doesn't matter, he's always beside you, looking over your shoulder. Staying alert.

Definitely spoils you with wayy too many expensive gifts and if not gifts, date nights, picnics and movies are his thing.

Might be a bit too cocky and touchy but will stop when you ask him to.

GETO

Public show of affection is not his first preference but if you like it, he'll do it.

I can see him being overprotective. He knows it's wrong so he tries not to show it.

Is always on the lookout for bad company you have, and will warn you about them.

Doesn't necessarily spoil you but he'll buy you anything you ask him to.

He can be a bit manipulative sometimes, but he knows his flaws and tries fixing them for your sake.

NANAMI

He's an old money guy. Flowers and chocolates every week. Showers you with affection.

Covers you with his jacket when it's cold, and never lets you open any doors, that's his responsibility. And trips to your dream places every month.

Also a big spoiler, more on the high-end stuff. Designer bags, jewelry, coats, clothes whatever you have an interest in. If you're not interested in stuff like that he'll buy/make anything you like.

Acts cold, more so if his work is stressing him out. Random bursts of anger that surpriseur you, but he would never, ever hurt you.

MEGUMI

Also a guy who does not like public display of affection. Will try his best to avoid it. But at the end of the day, if you do show affection in public, he'll gladly accept it.

I don't see him spoiling you. Quality time with you is more important than giving gifts.

He would never admit it but he loves it when you play with his hair.

It takes a bit for him to open up to you and express himself freely, but you'll get there sometime.

SUKUNA

I have no words.

This dude will not let you breathe. Hyperfixated on you and you alone.

Going out? where? when? with whom? what are you gonna eat? why? you already have me, why do you need anything else?

Possessive, over-protective, ANGER ISSUES.

Loves you more than you could imagine tho.

CHOSO

He's definitely very shy. Even with you.

Wants you all for himself. If someone even looks at you a bit too much, he's picking up a fight.

Doesn't really know how to express his love so he does everything. Acts of service, Gift giving, Quality time, and maybe even physical touch (sometimes).

Gets upset very quickly but he knows how to handle his temper.

I wrote this in a single day because I want to revive my blog 🥲 Very very sorry if it did not meet your expectations Im trying to get back to writing and English being my second language doesn't help either 😭 Requests are now open :) <3

If you want a part 2 just let me know. I'll try to respond as soon as possible 💗

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stuffeddeer · 5 months

Note

Had a silly thought of like. Nendroid dazai... Being alive

Like ada nendroid Dazai who comforts u when ure asleep because he didn't want you knowing he's alive but then you know after you got him an oda nendroid to keep him company

AND LIKE THATS THE ONLY REAOSN HE DIDN'T TRY TO RUN AWAY OR SMTH promised to get him oda :3

He also tries to convince himself he's only staying to finally talk to oda again but then he's just deep in denial abt the fact he's madly Inlove

He's so silly UGH

he’s so cute i need him dead well rested and fed :)

Dazai who sits on your nightstand each night and just watches you sleep :) his eyes are locked from you to the door to make sure no one comes in (not that he can do much in his little size… like cmon man an intruder could punt you)

He’d be protective as hell!!!! Being forced to listen to every conversation and watch all of the vulnerable moments you’ve had in the comfort of your room… like if you’re the type to save crying for your pillow he’s all :( and just wants to pat your back and tell you you’ll be fine :(

If you’re the type to bring your nendoroids around with you places (the pouches gsc sells are so cute btw I want the cake one so badly) he’ll love you infinitely more!! Just getting to watch as you go about your daily life and treat him like those cats people put in those backpacks? The ones with the window for them to look out? Yes that’s him 100%

He’s just your cat you wanna show the outside world to

People who make miniature foods and cute furniture for nendoroid-scale figures… SO CUTE!!! He’d be internally jumping up and down if you made/purchased some for him

He’d love being doted on that’s so canon to me (he may not know how to accept affection but that doesn’t mean he hates it gn) so he’d be ecstatic to receive so many gifts !!!

If you’re the type or maybe you have younger siblings/cousins to play with him like some action figure oh he’s so into it. Dude’s like Shakespeare the way he’s acting out everything he’s committed

GIFTING HIM AN ODA NENDOROID TOO…..

His heart swells when you’re around (in GRATITUDE nothing else……) because ugh!!!! Out of all the little scale couches and plastic foods THIS is the gift that has him almost break character…. Like you really did this for him! And he’s gotta be aware of how expensive those stupid figures are… he’s all warm and fuzzy inside

Him and Oda take up looking after you (once again not being able to do much… it’s the thought that counts?) while catching up

He literally cannot express how much you mean to him. YOU DID ALL THIS FOR HIM!!!!!!! Sliding Oda next to him in your little pouch to carry them both outside!!! so cute

Until one day you come home with a little Chuuya to stick next to him as well.

Can he be grateful and resentful?

Ofc he’s excited to have someone else with him too he’s just annoying

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 1 month

Text

DEBAUCHÉRIE

⚠️𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘⚠️

🎀𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐨 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝🎀

“I'd suffer Hell if you'd tell me, what you'd do to me tonight”

Pairing: Sub!Nanami Kento x Domme!Reader

Genre: Smut, Porn with plot, Happy ending.

Word Count: 4592

Warnings: PWP, soft domme Reader, plus size reader, female bodied reader, no protection, pussy eating, shibari, good ol' sex.

Summary: It was always a dream of Nanami's to be tied up like a good little boy, one that many partners after hearing would recoil in disgust expecting to be dominated instead... Its been too long since Nanami Kento got laid, so long that out of desperation he agrees to accompany his senpais to a sex club. A sex club where he sees you. But can you make his dream a reality?

A/N: At the end.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Lounging on the sofa, directly in his line of view, in the long black dress that hugged every curve of your body, your posture was relaxed, an easy smile on your red lips and a fringe of admirers lapped up your every word. The slit in the side of your dress gave him a perfect view of your leg and the tattoo hugging your calf. Your hands held a glass of red wine that you sipped slowly while your eager devotees tried to stand out to you. Nanami felt like a moth, caught in your fire.

It had been on Geto’s insistence that Nanami Kento agreed to visit the club. Having heard about it from him and Gojo before, he finally swallowed his pride and asked them to introduce him. Debauchérie – an apt name for a sex club, Nanami had mused, remembering the dark red neon sign he had seen when entering.

Gojo had explained to him in detail where they were going; he’d even borrowed an expensive – probably designer – turtleneck shirt of his to wear. It sat snug on Nanami’s frame, the fabric soft and comforting, yet elegant. “You can't wear just anything, Nanamin.” Gojo had warned. “It’s a very exclusive place; it took months before we could become members and bring guests.”

And it was, definitely, no less than thorough. Nanami had had to sign a waiver attesting to his consent and such before even being allowed in. It probably helped that Geto was a “valued” member, given how smooth the process had been.

Seated at the bar, Nanami allowed himself to take in his surroundings. There were small tables and couches all around the room, which, even for a Saturday evening, was not very full. Off to the right, there was a passageway leading to more private rooms, and to the back, there were places for open play that no one had started using yet. However, a lot of patrons had already reached varying stages of undress, and when a very pretty girl wearing nothing but nipple pasties came by and complimented how he looked, asking for his name, the poor man could only choke out a “Ke- Ken”.

The girl giggled and flounced away, but not before throwing him a wink and a flirty, “Nice to meet you, Ke-Ken!” Mouth dry, he resumed scanning the room…and that's when his eyes had fallen on you.

“She’d be a good fit for you,” Geto said in his ear, making him jump. Both he and Gojo had decided not to leave unless he found a partner, and had instead taken seats at the bar with him. “She’s very experienced…and attentive.” Gojo looked over too – his eyes wide.

“Oh, yes.” Gojo backed Geto up. “We had the pleasure of playing with her once. She’s so-o-o-o-o good.”

“You mean…” Nanami looked over at the two men. They nodded slowly and sneakily as he turned back to look at you.

As luck would have it, you chose that exact moment to look toward the bar, your eyes locking with Nanami’s. Realising he’d been staring at you, you gave him a soft smile and signalled a waiter over. Nanami watched as you placed your order; when finished, you looked back at the group around you and said something else, eliciting groans and pouts from most of them. Nanami only understood why when you got up and drifted over to where he sat.

You were even more stunning up close, he admitted to himself. Lips full and plump, painted in a dark red. Eyes framed by long dark lashes and lined in black. You greeted the other men first. “Suguru, Satoru! It’s been a while. Who’s your friend here?” So you were already on a first-name basis with them…

Gojo, almost climbing over Geto, answered, “This is Kento, Mistress. He’s our junior.”

“His first time here,” Geto added, giving up his seat for you to sit by Nanami.

You reached out a hand and ruffled Gojo’s hair. “I’m not your mistress right now, Satoru. You can call me by my name.” The same hand was then presented to Nanami, and you introduced yourself. But all Nanami could think of was that you were already close enough to Gojo and Geto to use their first names, and also how pretty your lips looked with the red lipstick and how much he now wanted to call you Mistress and…

“Nanami? Hello? Earth to Mr. Kento.”

Shit! You’d said something he’d totally missed. Nanami felt his cheeks burn. He pulled himself together, ignoring the throbbing in his ears. “Apologies, I might have spaced out for a moment…seeing your beauty up close caught me off guard.” Behind you, Geto and Gojos eyes widened. They never knew Nanami could be this smooth.

You chuckled – a sound that dripped from your lips like honey – and repeated, “I was wondering if you would like to play tonight. With me.” Nanami’s jaw dropped, but you continued, confidently, “I hope this isn't too forward for you, but we came to a sex club after all so I'll be a bit…forward. I think you’re very attractive, and I’m a Dominatrix who likes playing with pretty boys, so, Kento – I can call you Kento right?”

You cocked an eyebrow and leaned in close. Nanami swallowed and nodded. Your lips widened into a smile. “Would you like to play with me tonight?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Nanami could only nod. But you shook your head. “I need verbal assurance, Pretty Boy.”

“Y-yes. I would like to.”

“Hmmm…” You sat back, smiling sweetly, but crossing your arms in front of you. “Well then, let's go over some basics. You know I’m a domme, so I'm going to take it that you’re subbing for me.” Nanami nodded. “Is this your first time doing something like this?” Nanami nodded again, confirming what you’d thought. “In that case, we can take it soft and slow for your first time, Pretty Boy.”

Nanami blushed.

You led Nanami down a long corridor, entering one of the rooms at the far end. Gojo and Geto had assured him that it was fine and they would not “wait up” for him.

“So…should we continue this in one of the private rooms?”

The room wasn’t too large, but there was enough space for a plush bed covered in black silken sheets, a small black couch and a table with an assortment of toys. It seemed to follow the theme of the club, dark red walls, while most of the furniture was black. The dim lighting made Nanami’s eyes twinkle. This was what you had asked the waiter to prepare for you earlier. Taking a seat on the couch, you patted the space beside you, encouraging Nanami to sit. “We need to establish a few rules and boundaries first,” you began. “When we are playing, you will call me Miss, or Mistress. Is that okay with you?” Nanami nodded, but you shook your head. “From now on, whatever I ask, I need enthusiastic, verbal responses. I will not continue unless I have clear consent from you, Kento.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Your left hand found its place in Nanami’s hair, and you gently raked your fingernails against his scalp.

“Good boy.” Nanami felt his cock twitch. You placed your other hand on his chest. Against him, it looked small, but the command in your fingertips was unmistakable. You ran it along his turtleneck, squeezing at his chest. “Now, is anything off-limits?”

Nanami thought for a moment and said, “Nothing with pee or scat, please. And nothing that will leave any visible marks.”

You nodded. “Alright. I don’t do scat play either and I will not be engaging in rough play with you for your first time, but it is always good to ask and be clear.” Your lips had sneaked closer to his skin during your little explanation, and he could feel the warmth of your breath when you asked him your next question:

“Is there anything you would like to do tonight?”

Nanami blushed. “You don’t have to be shy…” you told him gently. “Tell me, Pretty Boy, how can I make a wild dream come true for you?” You leaned forward and bit your lip.

“I–I—” Nanami could barely hear himself speak as he said the next words. “I want to be tied up and used…would-would you…?”

All the stress of the last few days seemed to catch up with the weary man as his shoulders drooped and he waited for you to be repulsed by his ask, ashamed at how needy he was. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised...you chuckled.

“Is that so, Pretty Boy?” Your tongue darted out licking a strip up your lip.

Nanami's cock twitched again and he let out an involuntary moan. “Oh, do you like it when I call you a pretty boy?” He nodded, then remembered his earlier agreement.

“Yes, Mistress.”

You placed a finger under his chin and lifted his head to make him look at you. His brown eyes were dark, screaming his exhaustion coupled with building need. “Do you have a safe word you’d like to use?”

He shook his head. “I don’t need that, I’m sure I can take whatever you give me.”

You frowned. Your hand still petting his head, you explained, “It is vital that we have one. Regardless of how experienced your partner may be or how hard or soft you play, having a safeword is a basic requirement. If you like, we can use the traffic light system to keep it simple.” Nanami nodded but looked puzzled, so you elaborated. “If you feel like everything is going well and you don’t want to stop or change anything, you can let me know you’re green.” You paused, waiting for him to show you he understood. When he nodded, you went on. “If you like what we’re doing but feel like it's becoming too much or want me to dial it back in any way, you say you’re yellow. I can return to what I was doing previously, or pause and let you have a short break.” He nodded again. You continued. “And if you are very uncomfortable, or hurt, or change your mind and want to stop in any way, you say red.” Nanami couldn’t imagine a scenario where he would have to, but he was grateful for your assurances. He nodded again. “Red means I will stop whatever I’m doing and make sure first and foremost that you are okay. If you’re bound or tied I will release you immediately, if you get hurt you must let me know so I can treat you. I love it when my boy communicates with me.” Saying this, you kissed him at the edge of his mouth, lips barely touching. Nanami blushed pink. You smelled like strawberries and vanilla, and he found himself wanting to bite.

“Red, yellow, and green. I understand, Mistress.” he assured you, itching to start. His cock had begun to harden in his slacks, fed by the ministrations of your hands.

You got up and walked over to the table with the toys. “You’d like to be tied up, wouldn’t you?” you said out loud, then turned to him with a dark blue rope in your hands.

Nanami felt his blush deepen as you strolled over to him. The sound of your black stilettos made a sharp tapping sound on the hard floor as you towered above him. He would do anything for you. “Yes please, Mistress…” His voice was barely a whisper.

You bent down and kissed his head, giving him the perfect view down your neckline. The soft milky mounds of your breasts threatened to spill out of the corset under your dress, mesmerising him. You smirked, hand moving to his crotch. You gave his bulge a gentle squeeze drawing out a deep groan, then ordered, “Get up and strip for me, gorgeous.”

The poor man, caught in the net you cast, immediately followed. His hands fumbled with the belt of his trousers as he half ripped them off his body. He peeled off the turtleneck and folded the garments, laying them on the couch where you sat. He was beautiful. Years of hard training had transformed his body into a wall of muscle. His skin had a light tan and his stomach was tight. You greedily drank in the sight.

He was about to remove his boxers when your voice rang out again, “Stop. That is mine. You can only touch it when I let you. Got that?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good boy. Now, arms up and legs apart.” Nanami complied, and you rose, circling him slowly. He could feel your eyes taking him in, studying every inch of his body, and he itched to cover himself from your discerning gaze. But even before he could finish his thoughts, your hands were on him, feeling the muscles in his arms, all the way down, body flush with yours. He could feel your breasts pressed against his back., the warmth of your breath on his skin and your nails running down his sides, feeling up his torso. “What colour are we at, Pretty Boy?” you asked raspily.

Nanami responded after a second’s thought, “Green. More! Please, Mistress.” He felt your lips against his back, leaving tiny kisses along some invisible pattern as you complied, feeling every inch of him…except your hand never so much as grazed his crotch, making him pant with anticipation.

You stepped in front of him and picked up the rope off the couch, then unravelled it while making sure he was watching your every movement. The contrast of being so bare – so vulnerable – in front of you was stark. “I'm going to tie you up now, is that alright?”

Nanami nodded, grateful at how gentle and thorough you were. “Please, Mistress.”

You hooked your thumbs on the waistband of his pants and tugged them downwards, allowing his semi-hard cock to spring free. A sharp intake of breath from you made him shy away. Perhaps you would be turned off by his size. But to his astonishment, you kneeled down and gently licked the glans, eyes never leaving his.

“Someone's excited,” you remarked, impressed. Your hands worked deftly – practised movements that hinted at your familiarity with the rope.

Nanami appreciated, when from time to time, you would check in with him, “Is anything uncomfortable?” or “Is it too tight?” and wait for his verbal confirmations

“No, Mistress.” or “It’s just a little painful around the arm, on that last loop.”

You twisted and looped and knotted, and once you were done, you turned him to face the long mirror in the room. Blue vines ran all across Nanami’s chest, crissed and crossed into a five-point star. His arms were bound to his back, but his legs were free. Each line of rope sat snug, not too deep or loose, just enough to make sure that he was unable to move his upper body. The two lines you had artfully drawn against his crotch grazed against his balls every time he made the slightest move. He looked at you, dark pupils blown out in lust. You held his chin, then hooked your fingers onto the rope around his neck and pulled his head to yours, and Nanami’s world exploded. Your lips were hot on his. Your tongue probed for entrance at his teeth, licking his cold cupid's bow.

Reaching down, you trailed a finger up his length. “I want you to kneel for me, Kento.” You had placed a cushion on the floor and Nanami dropped to his knees, looking on in reverence as you stood before him and removed your dress.

The silky fabric fell to the floor in a puddle. You were left in a black laced corset and matching underwear. Taking a seat on the couch, you spread your legs open. Nanami had the most perfect view. “Do you want to see?” you asked him teasingly.

“Please, Mistress.” There was a whine in Nanami’s throat he didn’t even realise he was holding.

“Then take them off.” You gestured at your panties. Nanami fumbled. His hands were tied behind his back, what did you mean…?

“With your mouth, Kento. I want you to use your mouth and take my panties off. And then, maybe – if you do a good job – I'll let you taste me.”

Eager to please you, Nanami crawled over to your cunt and bit the edge of your panties. Desperately, he pulled at the fabric and inched it down with his lips and teeth. He could smell your arousal already, and it made his head heavy. He really wanted to taste you. His cock was now hard, and it bumped your leg. The little friction made him hiss.

“Go on, Pretty Boy, just a little more…” Your encouragement kept him from losing his focus, and he continued to pull the infernal cloth that barely seemed to budge. But with just one more tug, it was around your knees. He stopped and looked at you, pleased with himself.

“Oh that won’t do, Kento. No, you have to take it all the way off.” Nanami’s cheeks burned. All the way off? Down your legs, off your— “Off, come on. And don’t get it stuck on my heels, darling.”

Nanami pulled at the panties again. It was humiliating, being asked to do such a ridiculous task but even more so for the fact that his cock was rock hard and straining. You spread your thighs wide, showing off your glistening cunt. Your skin was smooth. Not that he minded hair but in a moment you would show him why. “Do you want to taste me?”

“Yes please, Mistress.”

“Then turn over and rest your head on the couch. I’m going to sit on your pretty face.” Nanami flipped over and watched as you raised yourself off the couch to straddle his face, your pussy dangling over his mouth like forbidden fruit. A drop of your arousal leaked out, falling onto Nanami’s lips, and he couldn't help sticking his tongue out to lick it. The musky sweet taste of you travelled straight to his cock and he twitched once more.

This must be the nectar of the gods, he thought to himself. His tongue reached out, desperate to taste more of you. “Please, please. Please, Mistress.”

You didn’t torture him further. Sinking your pussy lips onto his mouth, you both let out a sigh of relief. His nose rubbed against your clit, while his tongue lapped at your pink folds. Divine…

A hand in his hair, you pulled him, “Yeah–just like that–good boy...” Your knee was digging into the couch as you pushed your cunt into his face. And Nanami ate your pussy like a parched man. Slurping and lapping up your juices. Sucking on your sensitive bud. He wanted to hold you – to feel the plush of your ass filling his hands; he involuntarily pulled at the ropes that bound him. You stepped back for a moment, allowing him to breathe, then returned to your throne. But Nanami showed no signs of hesitation. His lips found your bud, circling it in his mouth as he started to suck. Loud wet noises filled the rooms along with soft moans from you. “Kento…Such a good boy…Keep going.” You felt his tongue flatten against your cunt, probing at your hole and exploring. His face was messy and wet but he didn’t care. Nothing had ever tasted as delicious as your wet cunt did in his mouth. Nothing had ever felt as good as your thick thighs that squeezed his head between them.

Nanami felt a sharp tug on his hair as you came with a cry, legs quivering. Your head felt heavy and it took you a moment to get off him and look at him adoringly. He knelt at your feet, panting but looking up at you expectantly.

You helped him to his feet and sat him on the couch, placing yourself on his lap. Your hands once again found his soft hair, fingers carding through it. His weeping cock bumped against your dripping core, and you began to move your hips to rub against it. “You’re such a – kiss – good boy. – kiss– following all my orders – kiss – so well – kiss–” Nanami felt a bead of pre-come drip out onto his thigh as you kissed down his neck.

Your pussy lips rubbed against his length as you kissed and licked his mouth. “Let me see you, please…” he rasped, looking down at your corseted breasts. Sounds of his grunts and heavy breathing now filled the room, along with the wet shlick of your skin against his. You undid the front of the corset, letting your breasts spill. A sharp intake of breath from him made you want to kiss him again, but his head dipped down and he took a nipple between his teeth, lightly grazing it before starting to suck at your tit. You pulled his hair back, yanking him off you. “Did I give you permission to suck my tits?”

Nanami’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought of that. “No, Mistress. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

You continued, “Next time you do something without permission, you will be punished. Understand?”

Nanami swallowed and nodded, burning with desire now; your pussy was right on top of his cock. One thrust and he could have put it in, but he knew that would not be allowed. He begged again, all inhibitions out the window. All he wanted was to feel you on him. “Mistress, please…”

“Please what?” His hips bucked and he forced them down. “Please fuck you?” You cocked a brow, unsmiling. “After what you just did?”

His dick stood now, painful almost, in need. “I’ll do anything,” he begged. “Please, just touch me–” His voice was cut off by a choked sob and to his surprise, a tear ran down his cheek.

“You make the prettiest little sounds, Kento,” you purred in his ear. “Okay, I’ll fuck you like you want.” And you held his cock as you spoke and slowly slid it into your pussy. “You want me to fuck you like this, right? On my tight wet cunt?” He nodded furiously. “Want to feel me squeeze your cock so good?” Another nod. “Okay, but you aren’t allowed to come…”

Nanami let out a strangled cry.

“You heard me. You asked to be fucked. Not to come. Didn’t you, darling?”

You were a succubus, and Namami was a willing victim. Semantics be damned, he was ready to burst, to spill into your warm wet hole, as you squeezed around him. You cradled his head in your arms, holding him close to you as you slid up and down on his cock. Your combined arousal made it easy, even though he was large.

“Fuck, please– Mistress. So good, you make me – haa…” Obscenities fell from his lips along with pleas, over and over. “Mistress, I need –”

You felt him twitch and stilled. Nanami could have cried. He strained against his bonds, desperately trying to hold on to you, but you were already off him. “To the bed,” you whispered and helped him up. It was difficult for Nanami; he had never been denied for this long when release was so imminent. He stumbled to the bed, grateful for your help, but wishing you would just let him come already. The teasing was maddening and he did not feel he had the patience for it much longer. You lay him down, propping him up with two large pillows before sinking onto his cock once again. His hands grasped at nothingness under him as you leveraged yourself on his chest and fucked him now – no holds barred. Your ass hit his thighs with a loud slap each time you came back down, and his cock was reaching deep inside you hitting your gummy walls that held him in a vice-like grip.

“You wanna come for me, Pretty Boy? Wanna come for your Mistress?”

“Please—please—please.” The words fell from his mouth like a prayer. A prayer to you, his Goddess.

“Then come. Come for me, my Pretty Boy.”

And with that, he was lost. Thick ribbons of ejaculate shot into your cunt, painting your insides white. You collapsed onto his large chest and felt his rapid heartbeat slowing, the rise and fall of his chest now gentle…The ropes around his body rubbed against your nipples, hardening them into peaks.

Lifting yourself off him, you helped him sit up before you quickly removed his ties. The skin was raw and red where he’d pulled. You lifted his hand to your mouth and licked at the angry marks, tasting the salt of his sweat. He met your gaze – still hungry. “ I need you. I need more, please,” he pleaded. “Let me eat you out again, Mistress!”

You smiled and dipped your head so that your lips barely brushed his ear, “I have a better idea.” You pushed his chest, laying him down and turned, straddling his face once more; this time, however, your mouth hovered above his cock. Even though he had just come, Nanami was still semi-hard, and only a few licks and he was back at attention. You glided your tongue along his tip, relishing the gentle shiver that ran under you. But the man wasn’t about to stay still.

Taking advantage of the newfound freedom of his arms and hands, he grabbed your ass, spreading the cheeks, pawing at them, pulling you deeper into his mouth. Soft moans escaped you. You were both over-stimulated and needing release. His lips latched onto your clit and sucked and licked, fully lapping up all he could get. Your peak approached, and you felt the telltale twitch of Nanami’s cock as well. He came just after you did, your thighs closing around his head as you gasped and trembled, orgasm hitting you hard. His cock spluttered and he came with a shout, spilling on your face and tits.

You got off him and used a tissue from the table by the bed to clean yourself up, before lying down beside him and opening your arms. Wordlessly, Nanami crawled between them, resting his head on your chest. You left a soft kiss on his head and whispered, “You were such a good boy for me, Kento. I’m so pleased with you. You were such a good boy!”

“Even if I did things without your permission?” he asked tentatively.

You shook your head. “It was your first time; you were learning. I don’t hold that against you. You’re my good boy.”

Something in Nanami’s chest fluttered. It might have been his heart. “Can we…can we do this again?”

You laughed. Nanami didn’t think he had heard a lovelier sound. “Of course, Pretty Boy. Maybe next weekend. I’ll give you my number.”

It had been three months since Nanami had first met you in Debauchérie; two months since he had become yours and you, his; one month since Gojo and Geto had found out and started teasing him about it. The teasing had died down, but his feelings for you had only grown. In your familiar red lipstick and a gorgeous orange sundress, you walked up to him and sat in the chair opposite his, holding out his coffee and sandwich. “Here you go, my Pretty Boy.”

He smiled, “Thank you, Mistress.”

The End

A/N: Dear GOD this was a toughie to write. I kept going back and changing things over and over because I needed this to be some of the best work I've put out. So I changed and changed and cut and reworked and edited. And now here we are. I did it for you Haitch. You beautiful bastard you. I hope you enjoy it. (I agreed to give her whatever she wanted in exchange she would have to turn on boops.) Anyway, thank you so much for reading! A big big thank you to my editor, proofer, beta reader @ominouslywritinginmyhead. Tagging @actuallysaiyan thank you for always supporting me <3

As always hearts and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you a kissie.

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spoilers-ahead · 10 months

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okay!! now that it’s not 2am for me, i’m going to post my selkie!jason todd hc’s straight up au apparently!

(uh. this was supposed to just be a list of hc’s but i got slightly,,,, carried away)

his selkie skin looks like an oversized red hoodie in his human form, and is just warm enough to help him survive new england winters.

when the summer heat becomes unbearable, he slings the hoodie around his waist

alternatively, he just coasts it out underwater. perks of living in a coastal city!

willis todd was a selkie. he used to tell jason stories of what it was like to swim through the big, wide ocean. of how freeing it felt. how different it is, from the smoggy, heavy air of gotham --- different, but both theirs, in their own right.

but to be honest, jason doesn’t remember much about the stories he was told, or really, anything about willis --- he had been in and out of blackgate for most of jason’s life, working for two-face to try and make ends meet, before dying.

what jason mostly remembers, are the warnings. don’t let anybody know you’re a selkie. don’t let anybody find your skin. they will find it, and they will use it to control you. even decades later, jason would still remember those warnings.

catherine is the one who teaches him how to swim, who helps him trial-and-error his way into putting his skin on, and learn how to make the transition seamless.

after she dies, jason spends three months as a seal, to just... exist. forget.

although jason technically lives on the streets, whenever he can;t find food, whenever he can’t find somewhere warm to sleep, whenever just being human becomes too unbearable, he spends the night as a seal. he ends up spending more time in the ocean, than on land.

that’s not to say he’s very good at being a seal --- he barely knows how to swim, has to learn how to fish the hard way.

when bruce finds jason stealing his car tires, he marvels over how nice jason’s hoodie is, soft and fluffy even after all of jason’s time on the streets, especially given the condition jason is in, ribs showing from malnutrition, and the worn and raggedy shape of the rest of his stuff.

jason is skittish when he goes to live in the manor, even after a few weeks. he always adopts an expression particularly similar to a cornered wild animal around alfred in particular, alfred, who keeps on trying to take his hoodie away, purportedly to wash it.

alfred eventually gives up on trying to force jason to wash it --- he figures that as jason becomes more comfortable living at the manor, he’ll wind up telling them why he’s so protective over that hoodie, and they can work something out then.

whenever wayne manor overwhelms jason with how big and how decadently expensive all the decor is, jason runs away, run to the ocean.

jason doesn’t actually end up telling alfred and bruce that he’s a selkie --- bruce just has a ridiculous amount of motion alarms, which are triggered every time jason ran off. he had followed jason the third night, and saw him transform.

bruce doesn’t tell jason that he knows, assuming that jason kept this a secret because he didn’t fully trust either of them. he would later learn that he was right in this assumption (a rare win for bruce in terms of emotional awareness)

except jason doesn’t fully trust either of them, even after a few months. bruce impulsively decides to do a few things --- a) tell jason about batman and robin and his crime-fighting secret identity, and b) tell jason he already knows about him being a selkie.

jason is absolutely bamboozled by the fact that bruce knows, and yet hasn’t tried to take his hoodie to control him, or to stop him from playing in the ocean for a few hours.

in fact, (under alfred’s encouragement) bruce offers to take him to the ocean during the day, so he can get “a proper night’s rest that a growing young boy such as himself would need”

jason remembers what his father told him, to never trust anyone, never let his guard down. but bruce has known about jason being a selkie for so long, and he didn’t take his hoodie or try anything. of course he can trust bruce.

and when he tries on the robin costume for the first time, it fits perfectly. just like his hoodie, his second skin. it fits just like magic.

oh, it’s a little loose in some places, the legacy of dick fucking grayson a little heavy sometimes, but he’ll grow into it. he’ll make himself, if he has to.

also, jason finds the fact that even though he’s a friggin’ selkie, his callsign is a bird (a robin, no less) incredibly ironic and funny

being a selkie is actually so useful for vigilantehood. the amount of people who talk freely, openly, and loudly about their drug smuggling plans near the ports is quite frankly, ridiculous.

honestly, towards the end of his robin years, jason remains genuinely surprised nobody catches on to him or his tactics yet. bruce is very proud.

even though jason is safe, has been safe for three years, and trusts bruce with his life, his skin, and everything, old habits are hard to break. so he has his hoodie on when he goes to find sheila.

and anyways, he wants to see if sheila is a selkie too. he’s taking biology right now, and they’re learning about punnett squares. jason’s never met another selkie before, other than willis who he barely remembers. there’s a possibility that sheila knows something, anything, so he has to try.

sheila gets a glint in her eyes when jason mentions that he’s a selkie, tells him that while she’s not one herself, she’s familiar with the myth. she has long suspected that willis was a selkie, she tells him, and she’s glad to have confirmation.

jason positively vibrates with excitement, can’t wait to ask, to pester his mother (mother!) with questions upon questions until.

until.

sheila doesn’t do anything after she gives him to the joker. she just smokes and smokes. and she doesn’t tell the joker about his hoodie, despite how it would have been much easier for the joker to destroy him that way. much more painful too.

small mercies, he supposes, in between hacking coughs that brings blood bubbling up his lips.

after he dies, his hoodie is ripped and in tatters from the crowbar, with burns along the edges from the bomb. bruce has to carefully peel it off his body.

when jason was alive, his magic kept the hoodie in perfect condition, always. even when the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in mud, or dripping sludge from the nasty gotham sewers.

bruce stares at the same hoodie, blood-soaked and mangled, so incredibly dissonant from how he remembered it on jason, when he was bright, whole, and alive.

he can’t stand it. the hoodie that was so precious to jason, that was jason, at the core of him, in this state. dirty and ripped and devoid of the magic jason had exuded.

in a moment of desperation, late at night, bruce asks alfred to teach him how to sew. he doesn’t dare to practice on jason’s beloved hoodie --- instead, he starts with the suits in his closet, grabbing the first one he sees, regardless of price. rips a hole and sews it back together over and over until he perfects his technique.

and then he washes the fabric gently, using baby fabric cleanser and scrubbing for hours upon hours until the last traces of the deep-set brown stain from jason’s blood washes down the drain.

he painstakingly sews the scraps of fabric back together with a red thread, carefully sourced to match the hoodie to try and make it flow seamlessly like it used to.

it doesn’t work, not exactly. despite his best efforts, the creases bruce had carefully sewn together are prominent and thick like scars, littering the soft fabric.

so he gives up. he hangs it over the grandfather clock entrance to the cave in his study. brings it with him every time he visits jason’s grave, because he doesn’t ever want to keep jason’s hoodie away from him, but he also can’t bear for it to get ruined.

dick visits him. a rare occurrence, these days.

dick yells at him, as he is wont to do.

these days, it feels like they spend more time angry at each other than not. dick says that this isn’t right. isn’t fair to anybody, not to alfred, not to himself, definitely not to jason. he rants, jason deserves to be remembered as he was in life, not frozen in death.

perhaps he is right. bruce is not unaware of the state of violent, cutting stasis he is in, this putrefaction of his life. and he is certainly not unaware of how it is affecting the people around him. dick. alfred. the neighbor’s kid, the one who wants to be robin.

bruce tries. not for himself, but for tim. for alfred, for dick. even for stephanie brown, who sometimes, when she smirks just right, or says something with just the right twang, he swears he can see jason in her.

he still can’t bear to put the hoodie away, because jason deserved better than to be forgotten, so he folds it gently and places it in his closet instead.

he also can’t bear to look at it for very long, so he forces himself to every single day.

it’s different from the glass case that houses robin’s tattered suit in the cave --- that, is a reminder of how he failed robin. this, this is salt in a constant, stabbing, festering would, reminding him of how he failed his son.

it was stephanie, that eventually helped him figure out what to do with the hoodie. when she was young, young enough to cry at ripped pants and skinned knees, young enough that her mother hadn’t touched the drugs yet, her mother would dry up her tears, give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before patching her pants up.

what not many people know, is that before crystal brown set her mind on becoming a nurse, she wanted to be an artist, first. and so she grabs her old set of embroidery needles, and stitched little designs. dogs and cats. stars and planets. tools and gadgets.

bruce doesn’t react, doesn’t even move, even as stephanie finishes her story. she hangs there awkwardly for a second, stares up at jason’s suit, waiting for him to respond, before shuffling towards the exit of the cave.

thank you, spoiler, bruce manages to croak out.

ah, yeah, she says, shrugging lightly while slouching in on herself, any time, boss. she walks out, and bruce watches her go from the reflection on the darkened computer.

that night, he takes out jason’s hoodie, smooths it out, grabs his threads, and stitches.

he stitches on constellations, argo navis, for jason’s namesake in the greek myths he had loved so much. a tiny seal, playing with beach balls. little books, with quotes on the sides. a robin, big and bold.

he tries to make it as true to jason as possible, not just in death and in bruce’s memories, but as he was in life.

jason wakes up abruptly.

he wakes up in a coffin, cold, alone, and with a gaping hole in his chest. getting dipped in the lazarus pit only made it worse, only made him all the more aware of what he was missing, all the more conscious of it.

he doesn’t bother trying to learn how to swim with two arms and two legs, instead of two fins and a tail. it doesn’t feel the same. it only reminds him of what he’s lost.

sometimes, on sleepless nights that happen more often than not, he wonders what would have happened if he still had a hoodie, still could swim.

if he still was robin.

and he doesn’t have access to the cave anymore, or to the titan’s tower, or the watchtower, and his memory of the past is still patchy and shitty in some places.

so in a burst of impulsivity fueled by the person he no longer is, he prints out photos of robin’s costume from the internet and recreates it on his own.

if his skin is gone, then fine. fine! he’s perfectly perfunctorily aware that nothing about this resurrection of his is natural. if he doesn’t think too much about it, he’ll be alright. his hoodie, his skin, that was something he was born with, a birthright that died with him.

but robin, robin was something that he helped shape. robin was something that he worked for, changed himself for.

and the makeshift robin suit --- it doesn’t fit him, not anymore. no, it feels wrong, like a child playing with their parent’s suit. or --- he realizes, perhaps more accurately, like an adult realizing they no longer fit in their favorite clothes.

and --- and --- what was the point of it all? what was the point, of trying to make bruce proud of him, of getting dick’s approval, of trying to futilely save people over and over again from the same gallery of supervillains who keep on escaping from prison?!

and what was the point of carving out a space for himself if the joker was just going to beat him out of it, and if tim drake was going to insert himself in the hole he left behind?

and then the next thing he knows he’s in titan’s tower hitting tim drake over and over again because who let him? who let him take jason’s role as a son, as a brother, as a hero? how dare he?

but when he’s slit tim’s throat and torn the ‘R’ off his chest, jason doesn’t feel any better. the robin suit still doesn’t fit. his hoodie’s still gone.

he’s starting to think it never will, not again.

sometimes, when he gets tired enough to let his mind wander, he wonders what happened to his suit.

he’s pretty sure he died with it, so either the hoodie is with the joker, batman, or... gone entirely. (it’s not like they found willis’ skin after he died. maybe selkie skins just disappear in a cloud of sea foam once they die, or some little mermaid shit like that)

it’s a cold comfort, that nobody can manipulate him now. nobody can control him --- not even batman.

(bruce had thought about it. when he first had his suspicious regarding who the red hood was, before he knew there was any trace of the son he once had left. he thought about using the hoodie, using jason’s selkie skin to coerce him, at least to stop murdering people, to stop hurting their family.)

(he would never go that far, in retrospect, or at least, he doesn’t think he could ever. to do that to jason, betray his trust so thoroughly and completely... but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t consider it.)

bruce reflects on this as jason reveals himself, the joker tied up at his feet with a gun pressed to his head, and venom spitting from his son’s mouth.

but when he lifts the batarang to hit jason’s gun, or wrist, or anything that’ll force him to drop the gun, he realizes that his hands are shaking.

and when he throws the batarang, he knows a millisecond after he’s let go, that he’s miscalculated the ricochet.

so when jason escapes that night, bruce knows he’s fucked up.

jason goes off the maps, completely. bruce doesn’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he even made it out of the explosion that night.

it takes weeks. weeks for bruce to track jason down, from meticulously documenting the dropped threads of where the red hood was pulling strings in the gotham underworld behind the scenes, to tracking security cameras with facial recognition.

once bruce manages find where he’s staying, make sure he’s safe, he knows what he wants to do. and, he knows what he needs to do.

jason gets a package in the mail, five weeks after his disasterous meeting with batman and the joker. unmarked, unsigned, no return address.

when jason opens the box gingerly and carefully, he holds on to his skin for the first time in years. and then, and then, and then --- something right slots into place. his fingers brushed gently over the tiny spotted seal he knows he used to look like, the books he remembered ranting to bruce about for hours on end.

the robin, on the top left, over his heart, big enough to have changed him, yet small enough to not define him.

it’s not perfect. it doesn’t even fix anything, not entirely. he still fights with bruce most times he sees him, tries to punch dick in the face, steadfastly ignores tim and steph the entire time.

but it’s something. it’s something, and the next time nightwing, batman, spoiler, and robin fight a gang on the docks, the red hood gives them a helping hand before jumping back into the ocean and swimming away.

fin!

wow this got long

#jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #selkie!jason #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake #catherine todd #willis todd #that one selkie!jason au #i swear i will turn this into an actual fic one day #anyways about the using embroidery to fix ripped clothes thing all i can say is WATCH HI MOM #it's SUCH a good movie and i guarantee it will DEVASTATE you in ALL your little mommy issues glory #like you think the batfamily comics/fanfics have an amazing nuanced complicated take on the parent-child dynamic?#this movie will BLOW your fucking SOCKS off. and best part of all: you can watch it WITH said parent #and it won't be as horrible of an experience as showing them encanto/turning red/eeaao!#in fact your parent will probably like the movie too and be reminded of THEIR own mommy issues :D #admittedly it's slightly different from the examples i listed above bc it's more abt what it's like to never reach ur parent's expectation #rather than an exploration of complicated parenting but it's still very relatable and very very good #the best part is you can find it all for free on youtube. also note that i mean the recent chinese movie not the old 70s movie #asteria's fics #i'm never writing a fucking flash fic on TUMBLR of all text editors again #shouldve written this out on a google doc first but i genuinely did not think this would get so long T.T #you can probably tell from the first three (3) bullet points that this was supposed to be a hc list before... it stopped being a hc list #guys i started writing this at 12 PM #IT'S NOW 9 AWOGEJAWOIG #my writing

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grison-in-space · 1 year

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man I've been listening to Guards! Guards! again, right. I was going to do Feet of Clay again but I wanted so badly to spend some time with Lady Sybil in her element, so I detoured over to the beginning. (Incidentally, Making-Money!Vetinari up against Guards!-Guards!Vetinari is one hell of a contrast. One gets the sincere impression that older Vetinari would wipe the floor with his younger self if they ever met, and then be painfully embarrassed afterward; and yet you can see the potential among the arrogance. I wrote this bit before I wrote a longer piece about that exchange, but I'll get round to linking it in here in a moment.)

But I wanted to discuss Sybil.

The first thing you have to understand about Sybil is that she is an archetype of a certain kind of autistic person, usually a woman (or a queer man). You find them in every kind of domestic animal fancy, although Sybil is of the class and rank that generally focuses on relatively large, expensive, and impractical animals; the dragon fancy is mostly based on the dog fancy, with strong influence from horse fancies and sometimes cat or falconry fancies. It is not a coincidence that Sybil is unmarried and that most of her time is spent with other women, often middle class or upper class women, who share her all consuming interest in dragons; this has been a really common social circle for autistics, especially autistic women with independent money, into a given animal fancy since the cultural concept of animal fancies existed.

The second thing you have to understand about Sybil is that she is not at all a conventionally attractive woman. Here are the things we learn about her as Vimes does, in order: she has inherited wealth and status that she does not particularly care about; she is large--taller than Vimes himself, or at least tall enough to loom over him--and "booms" confidently and incomprehensibly at him; and even after she takes off the heavy protective armor useful for conducting a dragon mating, she's tall and fat and (implied to be) heavily muscled under the fat. Her figure is compared to the Venus of Willendork, or perhaps an operatic Valkyrie, and she wears wigs because she is generally fairly bald, or at least singed. She's loud by nature. She wanders around with a dragon on her shoulder creating awful smells and occasionally dribbling.

God, I love her. Speaking as another erstwhile animal fancy autistic, she's really living the dream there. And this little Watch man shows up in her life, totally fails to understand what she's asking for when she tries to conscript him into the easy job for the breeding she's trying to facilitate, and then sits and asks her a bunch of pointed questions about her beloved dragons. He's weird in his own way and a little drunk, and he really is unfortunate enough not to have any dragons experience at all, but he sits down and he asks her questions and he listens to everything she can infodump at her with, as far as I can tell, rapt fascination.

This is not an experience Sybil Ramkin has frequently had. He doesn't try to escape or change the subject or draw her back to the pieces he cares about even a little bit. He's clearly dazed and confused and probably, knowing Vimes, a little bit drunk, but he's not even visibly discomfited enough to shove poor old Dewdrop Maybelline Talonthrust the First out of his lap. Sybil clearly knows that most people don't appreciate being drooled acid on, and tells Vimes repeatedly that he can shove the old man off, but he makes no effort to do so at any point. Given that dragons are described as having a quite pervasive smell, and given all the other details of their biology, I can't even begin to imagine how awful the old dragon must smell... and Vimes just sort of rolls with it.

(It's a pity Pterry didn't understand show names at all, of course; the ones we get should tell us something about the relationships among dragons and kennels, and the prefixes should be repeated, and whatever Sybil's own kennel name is should be present in many of the dragons she mentions. Probably it's either Talonthrust or Moonmist, but either way Goodboy Bindle Featherstone of Quirm is named entirely wrong. He's clearly of her own breeding, so he should have a kennel prefix or suffix that aligns with hers, not a name that has nothing in common with her other dragons and implies that his dam was bred by the duchess of Quirm rather than by Sybil herself.)

He listens and he listens and he asks questions and he goes down to the kennels to look at her pride and joy and listen to her explaining what makes each of them so nice. And then he brings her an incredibly exciting present. And he expresses interest in the sweet little whittle she's been trying to work out what to do with, who is totally not a breeding specimen but is too weird even for the sort of people who adopt dragons from the Sunshine Sanctuary. He doesn't even try to leave until the big dragon overhead causes a big stir, and then when she has him taken to her house to recover, she finds him reading her book about diseases of the dragons with every evidence of fascination.

Small wonder she takes notice of him, really.

#discworld #sybil ramkins #sybil

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huramuna · 6 months

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blue dove - oneshot request.

dark aemond x best friend / modern

request: Helloo! Can I get a dark modern aemond who is in love with best friend reader and is possessive and jealous whenever reader meets a guy and aemond does everything he can to keep reader to himself only with smut plss😊😊🙏

warnings: smut (specifics under the cut), possessive aemond, gaslighting, manipulation, toxic dynamic, aemond is his own warning here. reader isn't described, she/her pronouns. work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this is my first time posting smut & also writing it in a long time-- leave a like and comment if you liked it! <;3

paparazzi - lady gaga • baby hotline - jack stauber's micropop

content: p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, pussy slapping, hair pulling, copious biting, creampie, breeding kink, belly bulge

She had a few constants in her life, things that would never change, no matter how hard she tried.

One; she would never be able to drive herself anywhere. She was befallen to being a frequenter of public transport, cycling, and whatever other benign thing she could rope herself into that didn’t involve getting behind the wheel of a car.

Two (which tied into one); she would always suffer from crippling anxiety. She didn’t know why she was this way, nor could she fix it. She tried every cure— smoking, medication, meditation, hypnosis, and other obscure treatments. She used to be a bright and sprightly child, shining with confidence and determination— she had all the makings to become something special.

She was in all of the gifted classes, read well above her grade, was an eloquent writer and an aspiring artist. Until, of course— something in her snapped. Around the age of hitting puberty, rather than blossoming into what she should’ve been, she wilted. Wilted into a shadow of what she was, who she was. Suddenly, her gifted mind turned into one that was average at best, and at her worst, stuck into remedial classes.

She hardly remembers who she was— and dreams of what could’ve been.

The third thing tied everything up into a bow; Aemond Targaryen. Her best friend since elementary school, they’d always been glued at the hip. Even now, almost two decades later. He had seen her at her best and her worst— and so had she.

They were both on the smaller side as kids, scrawny and short— this made them an easy target for bullies and the like; how it usually goes. After Aemond lost his eye, she became fiercely protective over him, even throwing out a few punches and getting beaten into the dirt if anyone said anything untoward to him.

That was when they were kids, though— when she was fierce and lively. Their roles have somewhat reversed now. Aemond grew into himself, shooting up to well above her height, while she stayed sort of small. He protected her when anyone looked at her the wrong way, even if she didn’t see it.

They were both twenty-six now, sharing a birthday just a few days apart. They were always close in everything.

It was a crisp autumn day, her oversized sweater rippling slightly in the growing breeze. Shivering, she knocked on the door of Aemond’s flat.

“Aem,” she hummed softly, “I’m here.”

A few moments later, the door opened— in all his six foot tall glory, Aemond. His hair was down and a bit messy. A plain white shirt and gray sweatpants were his lounge clothes of choice, it seemed.

He perked a brow, “Didn’t feel like using your key?” he asked, moving aside so she could walk in.

“Oh— yeah, the key,” she scratched the back of her head with a halfhearted chuckle, “I forget— and I don’t wanna just barge in…”

“You aren’t barging,” he mused with a small smirk, “I gave you a key for a reason— I trust you. Aegon doesn’t even have a key.”

She kicked off her boots, “Well, Aegon is an idiot— he would just come here to raid your fridge and steal all your… expensive liquor,” she giggled, genuinely. Unwrapping the scarf from her neck, she instantly felt herself warming back up, “I don’t get how you like that stuff anyhow— it tastes like… spicy brown piss or something.”

Aemond snorted, “It's top shelf whiskey, my dear. Not ‘spicy brown piss’ as you so lovingly put it,” his hand reached out to her bare neck, thumbing over her throat for a moment before he walked towards the balcony, sliding the door open. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a deep drag, “You just don’t have a sophisticated enough palate to get it, dove.”

She let out a mock indignant snort, moving to the couch, “I have a sophisticated enough palate when it comes to things that are actually good— like well-marbled beef or earthy mushrooms stewed with thyme and garlic. Not alcohol,” she scrunched her nose, “That shit will kill you, Aem,” her eyes flicked to his cigarette. Another one of her one-and-done vices she used to have— her and Aemond started together, as she’d heard it might help her anxiety. It didn’t help, and tasted horrible, so she quit the next week.

Aemond, however, didn’t quit. That was eight years ago. When Aemond fancied something, he never gave up; that she knew for a fact. He gave one of his signature toothy grins, blowing smoke in her direction, “Lots of things will kill me, dove. If I die from smoking, so be it.” he took another drag, a deep and performative one.

She let out a quiet ‘hmpf’ noise, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. They were used to sitting in silence with each other, leaving one another to their own devices— as long as they were in the room together, it was fine.

Aemond watched her as he finished up his cigarette. When she would look up, he would look away, as if he wasn’t just staring a hole through her. She could feel his gaze— his blind, milky blue eye boring into her, while his undamaged eye observed her like she was a specimen underneath a microscope.

Every expression, every minute movement of her face was absorbed by him. He knew her better than she knew herself— and that was fine with her. She hardly knew herself anymore, anyways.

Her jaw clenched as she looked through her phone, scrolling through messages. The quietest of sighs left her, deflating her ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Aemond asked, suddenly appearing next to her, settling down on the couch.

She blinked profusely a few times— he was so silent when he wanted to be. She locked her phone and put it aside, “Oh— that guy I’ve been talking to… we were supposed to go out tonight. Apparently something came up…” her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands, cracking her knuckles idly; one of her nervous habits.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hand flexing slightly— then he relaxed, “I’m sorry, dove,” he murmured, “Maybe we can do something tonight, just the two of us? I’ll order Thai.”

She continued to crack her knuckles, “I-I dunno— I don’t want to be a burden. We don’t have to do this every time a guy cancels on me…”

It had become a longstanding tradition for takeout at Aemond’s flat when she got ghosted by a guy— which admittedly, happened a lot.

His hands were on hers in an instant, eclipsing them and prying them apart, “Stop that,” he said firmly, “You are not a burden. You never will be a burden. I won’t hear another word of that shit, got it?”

She fidgeted slightly at his harsh tone, but nodded, “… can we get Italian tonight instead of Thai?”

His tone and demeanor softened instantly at her acquiescence, “Of course, dove.” he gave her hands a quick, firm squeeze before letting go— one of his hands resting against her neck, arm wrapped around her.

They feasted and laughed all night, watching some of their favorite shows; overdramatic reality cooking competitions. They bickered back and forth about who should’ve won, who should’ve cooked what and who they think should’ve been eliminated.

At the end of the night, she was exhausted, leaning against him. She had eaten enough pasta to feed a small horse.

“Don’t think I’ll make it back to mine tonight Aem,” she mumbled, her forehead pressed against his arm, “Too bloated. Might fall asleep on the train if I try to go home— can I stay here tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said softly, his hand caressed behind her head. He always got touchy-feely late at night like this, and she didn’t wholly mind— it made her feel special.

She usually wasn’t keen on physical touch from anyone but Aemond, no one else got it right. She had a few flings in college and they all ended sourly— all of her romantic ventures seemed to end sourly. Aemond, however, was always there— always there to pick up the pieces, to tell her that she is worth it, to make her feel like she mattered.

It was him— always him, wasn’t it?

The realization dawned on her, making her heart ping-pong in her chest. She… loved him. She did, didn’t she?

“You can sleep in my bed, if you want,” he suggested softly, unaware of her inner turmoil.

She felt like her eyes bulged out of her head at that proposition, “Uh-uh,” she managed to croak, “Don’t wanna take up your space n’ all that…”

He didn’t press the issue. “Goodnight, dove.”

She wrapped herself in a blanket, getting comfortable on the couch— as much as she could, anyhow. Eventually, from sheer exhaustion alone, she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, she didn’t know what time it was— it was still dark outside. She blinked a few times, looking around. It took her a minute to remember she was at Aemond’s.

Her eyes, blurry with sleep, landed on a figure— Aemond, illuminated in the darkness across from her. He was holding his phone— no, that was her phone.

He was looking intently at something, holding his phone in his free hand, typing something into it, obviously from her phone.

Why was Aemond on her phone? Not that she minded, of course, she had nothing to hide— but what… what would be so interesting that he was saving from her phone to his?

“Aem?” she murmured softly, “What are you doing?”

A moment of panic went over his face— she caught this immediately, as she could count all of the times on one hand she’d ever seen him make that look. That is when she knew something was wrong.

“Nothing, dove— go back to sleep.” he cooed, trying to sound as soft and soothing as possible.

But it didn’t work, her guard was up, her suspicions raised. She got up from the couch, “Aemond. What are you doing?” she asked again, a bit more firm.

“Nothing— I just needed… to get something off of your phone.” he said, still obviously hiding something.

“What would you need off of my phone?” she pressed, walking up and snatching it back from him.

On the screen— it was her dating app profile. The list of messages of all of the people she’d talked to were pulled up, including all of their personal information.

“Um… what— Aemond, why are you looking at all of their profiles?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowed. He finally spoke after a stretch of silence, “I had to. I had to, you know. They aren’t worthy of you, none of them.” he said, his voice taking a serious note.

Shivers ran down her spine, “Aem— what the fuck are you talking about?”

“They needed to be told that you were already spoken for— that they needed to back off.” he moved a bit closer to her, his closeness suddenly oppressive.

She shook her head, still not understanding, “I-I don’t… wh—,”

He was on her then, grabbing her hands as they went to crack her knuckles, his grip on her tight, “They aren’t fucking good enough for you— no one is— no one except me, dove,” he growled low, his one seeing pupil blown wide like a predator, “You really think that every man you tried to go out with willingly ghosted you? Sweetheart, you can’t be that dumb.”

Suddenly, it all began to make sense. All of her failed attempts to date after college were failures— and it wasn’t because of her. It was because of Aemond.

She had spent years thinking that it was her fault, her inadequacies—

“Look at me,” he grunted, one of his hands going to her chin, forcing her gaze upward. Tears were streaming down her face, “I did it for you— for us— I am the only one capable of loving you,” his thumb caressed her bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “You think that anyone else on this planet would be able to handle you— besides me? I know you better than you know yourself. No one else would be able to handle all of your little quirks, your insecurities, your fears, your anxieties— but I will and I do.”

She sniffed, “I-if you liked me that way— why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

The pad of his thumb swiped the gathered wetness from her lip, “I’m patient— I’ve been patient— I needed you to realize,” his thumb slipped between her lips, pressing down onto the soft of her tongue, earning a small whimper from her, “That I’m the one— that you and I were made for each other, hm?”

She garbled a tiny reply, but it didn’t come through from his digit suppressing her tongue. Even through this— it felt like betrayal in some aspect to her— she couldn’t help but feel… warmth. Something akin to sickening elation. The good and bad parts of her were fighting, her emotions swirling within her.

He removed his thumb from her mouth, smearing her lips with her own saliva. He craned his neck downward, “Don’t you want me, dove?” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers. They were exchanging breaths, sharing their oxygen between one another without actually touching yet.

She was still crying— but she nodded slowly, “Y-yes,” she murmured. After all— he was right, wasn’t he? Who else would deal with her? Who else would love her?

He lifted his hand to her neck— he always had loved to rest it there, why hadn’t she seen it before? — his fingers pressing ever so gently against her skin. He closed the almost nonexistent gap between them, their lips pressing together.

She hummed a tearful whimper as they kissed, the delightful warmth spreading throughout her body, mingling with the sting of betrayal and disgust. Eventually, his tongue invaded her mouth, lips moving together as if he wanted to fully consume her. She’d never been kissed so desperately before— it was as if he was starving.

They fell into a rhythm, his hand lowering from her neck down to her collarbone, tracing the very being of her. She didn’t know what to do with her hands— her fists were white-knuckled, clenching at his shirt as if to hold on for dear life.

His large hand palmed her breast, immediately eliciting a response from her in the form of a gasp. She felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back ever so slightly, “So responsive for me already— I knew you’d be,” he hummed, his thumb rasping over her sensitive nipple, causing it to harden immediately. It sent shivers straight to her core, where she felt a growing wetness.

He shifted them back to the couch, placing her on his lap, “I’ve been waiting for this for years,” he growled, nipping at the soft flesh of her neck, “I’ve been in love with you since we met— all of that time. I’m a patient man,” he continued, leaving little red marks on her skin, biting gently, then kissing, “I let you have your fun in college— I let you fuck your way through a few guys, letting that first one take your virginity— should’ve been me,” Aemond bit down into her shoulder, slowly moving his way down her body. His hands lifted her shirt off easily, practically snapping the wires of her bra in tow. “Now, my dove, we are going to make up for lost time, hm?”

He tossed her bra aside, her breasts, well endowed as she was, rested heavily upon her chest. He pawed at one right away, her nipple pebbling into a stiff peak.

“Why didn’t you tell me— why,” she mewled. It’d been so long since she’d been touched this way, and never so attentively. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

“I needed you to realize it,” he explained, biting at her nipple. She let out a cry, earning a laugh from him, “I only needed a little more time. Too bad you’re a light sleeper, hm?”

Her body felt tight and hot, as if she was going to melt if she didn’t relieve some of the growing ache between her legs. She felt his hardness— pretty significantly, in fact— pressing against her pelvis. Almost out of primal need, she began rocking her hips against it, hoping for some friction.

“Needy girl,” he admonished, “But I’m a giver, aren’t I?” his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, down to her damp core. “So fucking wet for me already, hm? Just needed me to tell you that I love you and you’re practically gushing in my lap.”

His fingers parted her folds, honing in on her clit almost immediately. She fidgeted, pressing her head to his neck, breathing heavily against his skin. He worked at a slow pace at first— but she didn’t need much to begin barreling towards her first peak.

Aemond’s free hand snaked into her hair, yanking her back from his neck, “Don’t hide,” he purred, “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers, dove.”

She looked a mess, her face red and tear stained, kiss swollen lips parted as she whimpered in pleasure. She wasn’t loud in bed by any means— her little whines and moans were enough.

The cord within her began unraveling, slowly, slowly, as the pleasure intensified. He was able to achieve a level of euphoria that she could never do with her own fingers, nor could any other man.

“Aem, Aem— f-fuck,” she cried, tears still streaming down her face, “S’close, p-please.”

He grunted a moan in response, as if the act of getting her off was getting him off in turn, “Come on, let go for me.”

The pleasant feeling of wetness turned into a rush of pure ecstasy as she reached her peak, whimpering unintelligible praises while struggling to keep her eyes open.

“That’s it,” he cooed encouragingly, “Fucking beautiful.”

He kept up his ministrations on her pearl well after she came, causing her to squirm, “Too much, too much,” she murmured, a fresh string of tears falling down her cheeks.

The sight of her tears made him throb a bit— it was a wonder he lasted this long without fucking her already. He stopped his assault on her clit, prodding his fingers into her mouth so she could taste herself, then he licked them clean himself.

Shifting their positions slightly, he laid her down gently on the couch on her stomach as he pulled his sweatpants down. She glanced back, zeroing in on his member— he had a sizable length and girth, his tip messy and wet from her grinding earlier. Her mouth felt dry and wet all at the same time and she swallowed harshly.

He wiggled her pants and panties down her legs, her now soaked undergarments sticking to her folds. He gave her a playful swat between the legs, causing her to jump.

“So sensitive,” he hummed, pulling up her posterior in the air. His hand smacked lightly against her bottom before gripping it, “This; is mine,” he moved his hand down between her legs, pinching her clit, “This is also mine.”

She let out a mewling moan, keening under his possessive declarations— she found herself not only blooming in pleasure between her legs at such language, but her heart wrenched and wrought against her chest in a delightful pain. She wondered if this is what it was like to be in love.

“This changes everything, you know,” he said as he positioned behind her, moving the head of his cock between her legs, gathering the wetness there and creating a sticky friction. “There isn’t going back to the way things were— you are well and truly mine now, dove.” he cooed before easing himself inside of her, hissing lowly at the tight fit.

He bottomed out in her quickly, his member prodding against her sweet spot. Aemond let her adjust to his size for a minute— while also focusing to ensure that he didn’t come immediately. After a few moments, she relaxed— so he began to move.

His pace was slow and meticulous, filling every nook and cranny of her, committing the shape of her to memory. He paid close attention to when she would clench when he hit that spongy sweet spot, her hand going to the arm of the couch to find purchase, anything so she still felt like she had control.

Her mouth was agape, strings of saliva wetting the leather couch. “A-Aem— p-please,” she simpered, asking for what— she didn’t know, she just needed more.

He took it as a spur to increase his pace, the room filled with her tiny whines, his grunts and skin slapping against skin. His arm hooked under her chest and pulled her back, switching their position to where she was pressed against his back. His legs hooked between hers and pried them open, “Keep them open, sweetheart,” Aemond bit into her neck once more, leaving a few more additions to her growing collection of marks by him, “Need more of these on you, then there won’t be a,” his stopped as he groaned, his pace quickening, “fucking doubt in anyone’s mind who you belong to– you’re mine, always been mine– fuck.” his mouth was upon her ear, muttering sweet nothings to her as his free hand pressed her flat to his chest. He thrusted upward, taking her hand and putting it over her abdomen– the bulge of him inside of her could be felt, “Mine have, mine to hold, mine to fuck– mine to breed,” his breath quickened– he was close.

The double entendre of feeling the bulge inside of her and the head of his cock bullying that sweet, spongy spot just right– pushed her over the edge for the second time. She clenched and fluttered around him, earning an animalistic growl from him as he came, ropes of his seed coating her walls.

They stayed like that for a while, his cock softening inside of her while she regained her breath, coming to terms with the situation she was in. Soon enough, he pulled out, his seed dripping out of her. The stimulation to her already battered core made her squirm.

He leaned forward, still encircling her, encompassing her in his arms. “Tell me that you love me.”

She didn’t know when she started crying again– or perhaps she’d been crying the whole time. She sniffed, acquiescing, “I love you, Aemond.”

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stoned-eren · 6 months

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can i request eren acting a little crazy? like telling you he loves you so much he won't *ever* let you leave him in a serious tone but you think he's just messing around, being cute (totally unaware of how crazy he can be)

your work is really nice btw, i reallllly like how you write eren <3

a/n: hi hi! thank you so much for your patience, i absolutely loved writing this <3 anything with obsessive/unhinged eren has me at my mercy... and thank you for your kind words aaa im so happy you enjoy my writing! seriously, it means alot! content: pre-established relationship, yandere themes? (more like obsessive), fluff, one teeny tiny mention of death word count: 1.1k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

intense, possessive, enthralling.

that’s the best way to describe eren’s love. he loves fully, he loves completely. he loves until there’s nothing left in his essence, until his bones are withered away, his eyes are dull and tired, and his heart no longer beats.

and he loves you. undeniably so.

eren makes it known to you, every second you two are together. whether that’s a small squeeze of your shoulders, or pressing his lips against your forehead, little acts of affection are thrown your way, very often.

and although he’s undoubtedly sweet with you, he’s colder to others. a bit more hostile. with a piercing toxicity in his voice, and a deeply seeded fire in his gaze, eren does whatever he can to ward off any “threats”.

but in eren’s eyes, everyone’s a threat. no one can be trusted. you’re just too sweet. too sweet for eren to let you out of his sight. too sweet for eren to ever let you go.

you’re such a good person to him. he cherishes that endlessly.

you’re so good. in eren’s eyes, your affection and care for him was something that had to be protected. at any cost.

anyone who dared to disrupt that, even slightly, would pay dearly.

after a particularly nasty week, eren felt himself getting irritable. anxious, even. a few men actually had the nerve to approach you. there was even one bastard that tried to ask you out on a date. all week, there were people staring at you, people talking to you, people flirting with you. in fact, the one filthy rat who asked you out even decided to touch you. just a simple hand on your shoulder, but it was enough.

it was enough to send eren into a state of fuming panic. endlessly, he replayed the scenarios from this week in his mind. whenever he thought back on it, punching the guy who touched you didn’t seem like enough of a punishment.

…what exactly were you doing to him? can’t you see how much he loves you, cares about you, wants to protect you?

was this your intentions? to leave eren scared, threatened, and so violently angry?

the feeling of uncertainty weighed on him, it ate away at him. you needed to be his. undoubtedly. forever.

as the two of you spent time at eren’s place, both of you attempting to relax in his room, he felt his restlessness and anxiety skyrocket.

you sit at the small desk in eren’s room while you halfheartedly tear apart an outrageously expensive piece of bread. eren is sitting a little way away from you, resting himself on the edge of his bed.

“-you know, i’ll never understand why that lady sells her bread for so much more than everybody else,” you say. “it’s not even that good.”

“mmh,” eren simply grunts out, his mind evidently not focused on the casual conversation at hand.

“…you feeling alright, ren?” you hum at him, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “is my bread talk boring you?”

“it’s not that,” eren responds. “i just…”

he goes silent for a moment.

the utterly obsessive feelings eren had, combined with the events from this week, made him slip. just a little.

“…i’m never going to let you go. ever. you’re mine…“ eren trails off. “you’ll always be mine. i know we’re meant to be together.”

“…oh? is that so?” you smile at him, a little giggle falling from your lips. “where is this coming from, hm?”

“i just don’t want to lose you,” eren says, his eyes locked onto you. “you matter to me, more than anything.”

you give him a cute smile, tilting your body so that you’re facing eren.

“aw, that’s sweet of you…” you say, evidently delighted by his words. “you’re important to me too eren.”

“i hope so,” eren murmurs. “…fuck. i’d do anything for you.”

“anything, huh?” you chirp up.

“anything,” eren breathes. “…i’d burn the world for you, you know.”

“well, i hope you don’t do that… i live there,” you say with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“i really mean it…” eren replies.

a deep sigh leaves eren’s lips before he continues his sentence. “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you. honestly, i feel like i could kill someone for you.”

“oh- let’s not go that far…” you trail off.

“i mean- i just... i can’t stop thinking about you… i can’t stop looking at you… fuck- you just really mean a lot to me. i don’t want you to ever leave me…”

he stares at the ground, his eyes locked onto the wooden floor.

“…i’m not going to leave you, ren… ever,” you softly reply, setting your torn bread down.

hastily getting up from your chair, you make your way over to eren. as you take a seat on his plush bed, eren’s attention drifts from the paneled floor to your beautiful irises. once he catches himself looking at you, it’s hard for him to look away. it feels impossible to look away.

eren mumbles. “i wouldn’t be able to handle it. i don’t think i could see you with another person, ever. god… like that guy from earlier. he pisses me off.”

“eren…” you sigh softly.

“fuck- what a piece of shit. no one should be flirting with you,” he spits out, clearly working himself up at this point. “only me. it should only be me. i don’t want anyone even looking at you in that way. just the thought alone makes me want to-“

“ah- i get it, i get it,” you say, taking his hands in yours.

a reassuring smile flashes across your face, trying to deescalate eren’s creeping anger. gently, you give his palms a squeeze. “like i said eren, nothing is going to happen. you’re all i want, all i need. please, don’t worry.”

the tension that was previously evident in eren’s hands starts to ease. the look on his face is calmer, more relaxed.

“god- i’m sorry. i just really love you,” eren breathes to you. “you’re too good to me…i don’t know how i deserve you.”

“oh, don’t say that,” you say, comfort coaxing your voice. “…i love you too, though. just try your best to remember that, okay?”

a slow nod comes from eren. you lean into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. letting go of his hands, you trail your fingers up his forearms, your digits caressing his skin as you wrap your arms around him. your hug is soft and gentle, almost hesitant. there’s a fluttering in eren’s chest, a vibrancy quite literally making him glow as you embrace him.

eren lets a small smile crack through his lips. vulnerability is still undeniably scrawled on his expression. it always is. ultimately, he just wants more of you, more experiences of you, more time with you.

but for now, just hearing your sweet, songlike voice tell eren that you love him, is enough. just feeling your supple skin shyly brush against him, is enough.

everything about you, was enough.

#ask #anon #writing.exe #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #eren jeager #eren #eren yeager #eren jager #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x reader fluff #aot fluff #yandere eren #obsessive eren

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