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eufezco · 2 days

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BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME

bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n

All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.

It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.

But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.

The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.

—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.

Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?

—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?

Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?

Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.

—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.

Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.

So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.

Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.

—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.

Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.

You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.

—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.

—Do you want to be asked about it?

Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.

The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.

You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.

At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?

Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.

He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.

Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.

Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.

—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.

In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.

You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.

—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.

—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—

—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.

You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.

—I don't want to stop.

—Good. Me neither.

And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.

Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.

You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.

—I need you inside, please —You whined.

You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.

You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.

You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.

Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.

He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.

You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.

You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.

Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.

And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.

Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.

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grind-pantera · 3 days

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um hi first time requester here i hope im doing it right. can you give us more noa x reader hedcanons please i'm so happy to find someone writing for him

Noa x Human ! Reader Imagines - Part Two.

Let's go babey round TWO. We are eating good today. This ended up being like 3 fanfics rolled into one. 5K+ Words haha. Likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated! Enjoy reading. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human ! Reader. Rating: T. ( Just for safe measure. Some mentions of aggression, mating. That good stuff. ) Read Part One Here.

Slow Burn Series: Customary. Gone Hunting.

**Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Noa singing to the Eagles. He felt like he never had the talent. At least, not in the way that his father did. What happened with Proximus Caesar months ago… Noa reflected on that and rested his hand down on the tightly knit together wooden branches that served as a platform high above the whole of the Eagle Clan. It had to have been a fluke of nature, maybe stupid luck that he was able to preserve and get his Eagle to cooperate instead of scratching his arm to unrecognition. Shuffling a bit to the right and out of the council's den, Noa noted that there were still some items that were out of place from the raid of his village. Some small jars tipped over, out of view to anyone who wasn’t looking for a mess. Bird feathers were fallen on the ground, flocking it beyond knowledge that there was even wood there. Noa, being so familiar here, knew otherwise but others would make the unsafe assumption that they were simply being held in animation by a structure made from bird feathers. Small bits of ash here and there from the fire, but the structure itself was able to be repaired to be used again. He was grateful for that.

It was… Where he last was with his father, where he had been crowned shortly after, blue feathers now adorning the band that encased his right bicep, where he felt he had time to reflect and dwindle into nothingness, to not be important because to himself, he rarely ever was and it seemed the feeling was only enhanced now that he was responsible for the wellbeing of everyone in his Clan. They came first, Noa came last. Protect them at the sacrifice of himself. Noa nodded at that, self-assured. He had just disbanded with his council, nothing of interest picking up through the muddled nature of his thoughts. Just talk about the repairs to the village, about the next round of young Apes who were going to be bonded with their own feathery friend… Most days, Noa felt inclined to participate, he was their leader now. But today, there was not a possibility that he could even engage in regular conversation.

He grumbled under his breath, and a few of the birds reacted purely to the sound, not necessarily to Noa himself; that was what he tried to convince his mind to believe as his own Eagle, which used to be his own fathers, landed on his shoulder. There was minimal effort put into the sounds as he began circling the room slowly, looking at each of the Eagles that rested there, so delicate and fierce on their perches. He wished to be that… Strong, unafraid, and confident. Puffing his chest out, Noa feigned fake confidence before ultimately blowing the air out of his lungs, shoulders falling in some mild defeat. He seemed to shrink in on himself before returning to his rotation of the room.

For every round he made with his feet, his vocals grew ever so gently in intensity, his mouth now making an obvious ‘O’. Apes were not known to be great at singing ( at least Chimpanzees ), but they were known to make communication with sounds. Singing was the only way to describe it, and it took Noa nearly a month to explain to you what the sound actually was because he was unsure of the word. He was too self-aware to actually demonstrate. A lot of back and forth ensued. It was not a hoot, it was not a holler. It was…. Humming. Almost, crying in sound. Screeching if he were loud enough. He wasn’t though. He kept it hushed, intimate and private between himself and his birds.

And you didn't have it in your heart to say anything or move, almost splayed completely on your stomach, trying to ignore the jabbing pain in your ribs from resting on the hard wood that served as a ramp upwards towards the Ape you had come to see. He had to have been at least two meters above you at this point, maybe more. It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He’d kick you out from being in such a sacred place to his people. Why you felt drawn here, why you wanted to see him… All rational thought disappeared when you heard him. Noa had told you that this is how bonding went. You sang to your bird in the same way the egg sang to you to be chosen. You hadn’t seen it in practice, until now. Glancing up, you could see the shape of his feet through some of the thickets of wood, a few feathers falling through the cracks and gracefully landing either on you, or nearby. Would he stop if he knew you were there? You wondered and clenched your jaw.

Most likely he’d stop, you figured. Noa wasn’t one to do this in front of others out of fear or embarrassment. The only time he did it was to save his Clan. He’d do it again, sure, but to sing for them ceremoniously was a terrifying thought that was inevitably going to come to fruition some day. He told you time and time again though, the customs, the crown that had been metaphorically passed down to him from his father, the burden, the great angst he felt knowing that it all rested on him. He never flat out expressed that’s how it was, how he was feeling with his inner turmoil, but it became more frequently observed the longer you were in the care of the Eagle Clan. You so desperately wanted to help him.

Grasping a feather in front of you between your fingertips, you propped yourself up to sit and then to stand. Giving one more glance up at Noa, you turned to leave, deciding that you had no reason to be there; you couldn’t come up with one if he put you on the spot. He’d tell you the same, you were so sure of that. But… There was one irrefutable fact in all of this regardless.

Noa knew you were there the entire time.

Noa offering you an animal pelt. ‘They get… cold.’ Raka’s words echoed for a long time in Noa’s mind as he peered over at you, observing the nature of your smaller frame sitting so intently near the communal fire of the Clan. Some chatter off to the side from some Apes also enjoying the fire, but they were out of sight, out of mind for Noa. You were so close that the roar of the flames pushed back the hair from your face, giving the male Ape an exceptionally good view of your expression, even from the distance he was at.

You even had your eyelids shut, he noted before turning his head back towards his hands, only momentarily before he was looking right back at you. You were truly soaking in as much warmth as you possibly could. The waves of light encapsulated in some elegant dance as the blaze flickered across your body. Noa was left feeling slightly mesmerized by that like he would float over to you if you beckoned him. You were covered, shoulders and below, draped in unfamiliar clothing.

Today was the first time Noa had seen you wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants that swept you up, almost consuming due to the large nature of them. You had tied a loose knot around the waist to keep the bottom piece from falling, but he did notice you picking them up here and there as you moved throughout the day. It was obvious that they weren’t tailored to your body, but when you had stumbled upon them and snagged them for yourself, you didn't want to complain. Any sort of clothing was valuable, especially as the winter was coming. There wasn’t much else to that, Noa thought to himself and rested what he was tinkering with down on the bench in front of him.

You seemed content enough, Noa dubbed and gave himself a small smile. It faded just as quickly as it came, the knowledge that someone could see him absolutely enamored like a fool begging for attention from his most desired… Was not very leader-like. Noa felt like he’d snap at someone if they were to bring it up, bring you up as if they had a right to talk freely about you. Well… The joke was on Noa. They absolutely had the right but that didn't stop him from thinking of ways to deter people from doing that. He cherished the jealousy and harnessed it into a protective shield. He cherished you and the feelings that subsided in both his mind and body.

Those seemingly unrequited feelings were what spurred him from his perched seat and setting a small pace towards his nest. You’d be okay for just a minute or two, he figured and scattered a bit more quickly. Shuffling in your spot, you had only taken your eyes off of him here and there as your eyelids rested shut from the tiredness that swept over you in waves. That’s what the heat did to you; made you tired beyond comprehension. Maybe, you muttered inside of your head, you’d just tip right over and fall asleep on the ground rather than making the needed transverse back to your nest of twigs, feathers and smaller animal pelts. You must have dozed off regardless of your train of thought because when you looked up at where Noa had been sitting previously, it was vacant.

You blinked. Something hung on your shoulders. You blinked again, hearing a small bit of heavier breathing coming from your left side. Just a few soft hooing notions to let you know that he was near, not a threat. Submissive, if that’s what you wanted. For a lingering moment, it almost felt like there was a hand, delicately moving against your left shoulder blade, pressing in and out as if probing you to make sure you were still alive, but with sleep on your horizon of your body, it was hard to determine if that happened or if it was what you wanted to happen. Wanted Noa to do.

With your eyes shut at the pleasant sensation of the animal pelt, you drew a deep breath in and relished in the added feeling of your lungs expanding so lazily; like you were being smothered and taken down into a dark but very warm point of interest. “Hmmm.” You murmured out loud. It smelled remarkably rich once you were able to process that along the teetering line of slumber. Like a conifer tree, vines draping themselves delicately over building ruins, grainy like the Earth. There was one more note there, something incredibly fragrant. Familiar and it caused you to grasp at the item around your shoulders to dig your nose closer to it. It was a smell you savored more than you cared to admit, but in your sleepy stupor, it was happily acknowledged verbally.

“Noa.”

He was rock silent next to you, green eyes wide with surprise at the surmise of his name falling from your lips. So… so nice, Noa thought to himself, head tilting to the side in a subconscious bid to get closer to you. There was an intense and increased magnitude of his stare when you pulled the animal pelt he placed around you closer. Closer, Noa seethed softly at that, so close to you, on you… On… His thoughts came to a slow pause as he just viewed you again. You were clutching at the pelt, holding it closed against your chest.

Tameless thoughts hit the young Ape like a wave coming from the absolute silence his mind had previously been in. What it must feel like to have you hold him, what it must feel like to have Echo hand in his fur, pulling him closer, closer. He would beg you, scratch you, bite you if you pleased. If that’s what you wanted of him. Noa had no idea where this surge of ideology, of aggression came from but he did nothing to dampen it. Not when it felt so viciously good to indulge in. His lips parted, sharp canines glistening so delicately in the firelight as he hooted again, not loud enough to wake, but loud enough for him to selfishly remind you that he was there. Yes, yes yes… He chittered, moving side to side on all fours for a second before taking a sharp pace to the right and then back to the left before sitting properly next to you, solaced and draped deliciously as he stared at you. The absolute desire he had to perform such acts, such… Such vulgarity…

He couldn’t stop, he-he… Didn't want to.

Noa welled at that, revered it and felt a sense of accomplishment. You liked it! No, no, he hooted to himself so quietly, taking time to observe you again to confirm his thoughts. You were loving it. He had seen you in various states before. Embarrassed, angry, flustered, minorly injured, reminiscent, but this… Was beyond anything he had seen before. Something stirred inside of him as he sat back, now resting his body against a log for support so he didn't need to put in active thought into keeping himself up-right. He’d wait until you were awake enough, the decision was made, and let you know it was time to go back to your nest for the night. Just a few more minutes, Noa bargained with the most introspective parts of his mind, almost beaming with primal pride that he was able to keep you satisfied. You were vulnerable.

Seeing his nest for the first time. Your lips parted, slightly dry from the air that rolled around the quiet village. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything as you stared at Noa who unwaveringly stared right back, waiting silently for an answer to a question just asked. But oddly, it felt like there was no question. Shock rocketed through you like you were being electrocuted. It started in your feet, feeling slightly numb before completely overtaking the rest of your senses. You felt blind, almost half tempted to put your hand out to touch something, you felt mute, a hard lump now sitting at the back of your esophagus and it felt like you would throw up if you tried to swallow it down, you couldn’t hear anything outside of your own breathing which made you feel even more isolated. It was hard and rigid, you were nervous and trying to hold it in but it was untimely and bursting at the seams. You knew that Noa noticed and he either didn't put much thought into your reaction to his six signed words. Had you just seen his signing right? Maybe he said something different and your eyes were playing tricks on you! In broad daylight.

Do. You. Want. To. Come. In.

Mentally, you slapped your forehead out of meager frustration. Why did you have to follow him all the way up the platformed structure? Why didn't you stop yourself like you always did? It was not a permission you gave yourself; to be anywhere near his personal space. You’d meet in communal spaces, or out in the field Noa favored. Never personal, never too close… You must not have noticed your feet transition from grass to dirt to wood. You were so transfixed on Noa who sauntered back to his nest to grab something he had forgotten, that you followed blindly. Physically, you raised your hands before dropping them in favor of actually talking. It was quiet and reserved, Noa noticed and he found himself pacing forward just a bit as he had a harder time hearing it, wood creaking as it settled under his weight.

“You want me to come in?” Your voice came to a tapering squeak but you tried your damndest to keep it under wraps. You should have signed, you dummy… Deep down, you knew that Noa had observed that but what you didn't know with any sort of confidence was that he was forcing himself to ignore that heat-skipping a beat feeling he’s been getting more frequently around you. “I don’t know Noa, that’s your home, I would…”

“I…” He started slowly before raising one hand to sign reassuringly, ‘I… would like you to.’ It was your turn for your heart to do that infamous skip a beat. Swallowing hard, you dug your heels into the wood platform below your feet to keep you from floating off at the idea. No! You snapped, it wasn’t just an idea… It was an opportunity that was now given to you, Noa metaphorically holding his hand out to see if you would reciprocate in any form. He was offering you inside, to see Noa’s nest. Where he slept, bided his time, enjoyed solitude when his Mother wasn’t around, when Anaya was getting on his nerves, when Soona was pestering him in her typical sisterly fashion… You figured the question begged was just Noa being accommodating. You figured him telling you that he would like you to was just his way of being polite. Figuring you would not be comfortable to wait outside for him, knowing more about you that you cared to admit in the moment.

If all things went according to how you wanted them to be, you’d jump on that chance. But, you found yourself pensively contemplating if you wanted to step over that metaphorical threshold, this one in the shape of an entryway. The one that landed right in the palm of Noa’s hand. You’d be a bald faced liar if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t curious. Curling your fingers into your palms, you noticed that they were profusely sweaty. Would it be deemed rude if you denied him? If you said no, convince him you were fine waiting outside? You had no idea how he would perceive that, “Okay.”

Wait. What did you just say? Wait!

Your feet once again began moving without permission, gliding yourself right along Noa’s right side as he offered you to go on first, his hand gesturing repeatedly to the room. Quick in succession. There was no way he was excited, was there? The idea tickled your brain but you shoved it back and drew a deep breath in. From his perspective, Noa watched your rib cage expanding under the soft fabric of your shirt and then regressing back inwards slowly. Meditative breathing, he figured, to keep you calm.

There was nothing calm about this though. Your stomach felt like it was beyond the floor, now sinking deep underground, your ears pricked with anticipation. The fur on his bicep tickled at the bare skin of your arm, caressing and smoothing itself there as you were now shoulder to shoulder with him and you swore you felt his breathing against your neck when he glanced at you, counteractive to your own self soothing breaths. Hard, heavy and fast. Noa didn't know how to cover that up which was ironic because you were so convinced you managed to stave your nerves off.

You step over that threshold, you step over a line that was there for good reason. The rational part of your brain was so annoying.

You pushed yourself forward and with the blink of an eye you were inside. It was… Unremarkably remarkable. Nothing really popped at you, eyes processing through a darkened mess. Nothing in particular you noticed right off the bat, it was a dim lighting, the only two sources being a small fire pit that was begging to be put out, the pieces of wood small and frail, giving just enough energy to hold a mild orange hue and that of an opening to the right, reminiscent of a window of sorts lightly covered by a cloth. Sun peeped in and illuminated only enough to navigate and not pick apart any details. You smiled to yourself at that detail you were able to see. So, he did believe in privacy, why else have what you would consider a curtain? It wasn’t just an Echo thing like he so often pinned.

You shifted to the left and allowed Noa to enter right behind you. He was fast, hunching his body in on all fours, the pattering of his hands and feet entrapping you for a few seconds. He swept to the right, wanting to observe you in vague silence. In his space, green eyes narrowed as you stepped further in, your fingers coming up to touch a leather strap that was hanging against the wall. That was his hunting sheath, holding his spear against his back when out.

You were incredibly grateful as you felt your eyes adjusting to the lighting, able to see more details as you trailed along the left wall, almost as if you were afraid to actually dive further in. It smelt like Noa - Rich in flavors that teased your tongue. Trees surely, but trees bathed in sunlight in the late summer afternoons, smoke from the ashes of fires that burned endlessly, the absolute deepest part of the Earth that you could beckon… Shutting your eyes at that, you tried to document it somewhere in your mind. You needed to remember it, needed to recall this when you were alone later. Noa’s smell became so familiar, but being so near now, it was suffocating you and it threw an absolute chill down your spine.

Noa observed your fingers then raising, causing the Ape to perk up in baited anticipation of you saying something. Nothing came to fruition, but your fingertips were now held in animation against the feathers of his ceremony cloak, lightly placed on what appeared to be a small bench. It was splattered artistically with the blue feathers of the Eagles, the Falcons he had grown up with, admired. Friendly, you thought, with what appeared to be necklaces sitting right next to it, some with adjacent feathers to match the cloak, one holding a large engraved wooden pendant. It was so intricate and you felt the urge to run your fingers along the carved channels. All had been his fathers, tracing back several generations until it landed in Noa’s hands. Some of his most prized possessions. Hooting at that as if he were scolding you, fingers stopped touching around the feathers and you looked over at him, almost whipping yourself around, heart now jumping itself into your throat. He didn't mean to startle, but he just wanted to make you rightfully aware that what you were touching was a delicate garment. Your eyes told him you were sorry and so he allowed you to continue on.

You had turned your attention now to the tinker items he had stored. A few spear heads, some more dull than others, a few more tools that Noa frequented when something needed to be fixed. Against the wall next to his bench was an iron pipe, rusted from years of being exposed to nature. Fleetingly, you wondered why he kept it but didn't want to give off the impression you were judging him by asking why he did. Unbeknownst to you, he wondered so morbidly what you were thinking. Good or bad? Did you like it? Did you… Not…? Like his things? Noa couldn’t see your face, only your shoulders as you were turned away from him now, moving further into the room. Bad choice of sitting so far away from you, he thought to himself, scolding the immature mistake. He should have followed you around. Closer he was, the easier it was to see. He felt his fingers twitch as you came around and looked at his nest, queering it to be the next thing to inspect. Yes, please! Admire it. Say something about it! He yelled inside of his head. He wanted to ask you if you liked it, if you cared to share. If it was suitable.

Inappropriate to ask, Noa berated himself and sat back, realizing he had set himself in almost a pounce-like position.

Branches were spewed all over in a circular motion that tightly knitted itself as it got closer to the center, feathers from the eagles nestled deeply between thickets of animal pelts, some bigger than others. Rabbits, you noticed, maybe a fox as your eyes scored over a red hued pelt. One that was remarkably bigger than the rest; it had to have been a bear. Had he hunted it himself? You tilted your head and moved forward to get a better glance at it. It was a messy assortment and that felt strangely… Endearing. Noa was often quiet and reserved, not much to talk about himself he had told you, only answering your questions when he felt they garnered answers. You were getting more answers from this simple analysis of his nest than you had gotten with words before.

Noa remained silent, your body turning to face him as you were admiring, at least he hoped you were, his nest. His choice of pelts, his choice of comfort and security. You crouched down into a squatting position to get a better view at the nature of his nest. Taking in the smaller details that were resting there. Were you… repoaching him? He wondered with a tilt of his head. You had not said one word to him, did not raise your hand to sign. Did… Nothing. He did not know. He did not know what you were thinking. Frustration rose in him for a split second. He’d tear your head open just to know what you were thinking. Noa’s mouth popped into an open ‘O’ shape when he watched you place a hand on one of his animal pelts. He knew the outcome of that alone; it would smell like you and he was going to obsess about it when alone. He had something now, something personal, that held your scent.

You finally broke the silence and Noa felt a sheer force of relief hit him in waves, one after the other at each of your words, “Very Noa.”

Hm… His mouth fell, agape ever so slightly and you could see the glimmer of his canines as he caught the sun peeking through his make-shift curtain. His green eyes burned desolate holes into your own, Noa noting that you weren’t moving to break said eye contact. Carefully, he did so himself, afraid of some repercussions if he continued to look at you the way he was. Wrought with feral need. He forced himself back into the moment, back into what you said. Were your words an approval? It had to be, the tone of your voice was not aggressive, mean, passive… It was as gentle as he had heard it in a while, only recollecting once or twice that tone being used. Often, in conversations that were more affectionate than others. Rare, but Noa was familiar enough.

“Someday,” He rumbled, the sound of his voice pitching every which way as he was now scrambling to get his bearings. “Will share. With mate.” It had to have been your imagination to see him vaguely gesture to you at the word ‘mate’. Yup, just your imagination which was still running outlandishly wild at the prospect of where you were.. “With family. It is the way of the Eagle Clan.” You nodded, understanding that from previous conversations where he had opened up a bit more about his culture. The mere thought of him someday having a mate, a family, was a bit of a sting, but it wasn’t outside of the realms of reality. For the sake of the Eagle Clan, he eventually needed to provide an heir. And in order to do that, it required a mate. You'd lose him one way or another...

Noa looked over at you, enjoying the tentative feature that found your face. Noa crept a bit closer to you, trying to be as smooth as possible. Gliding is how he wanted to appear. Not to startle, not to intimidate but he wondered if you were by nature. After all, he was an Ape, you were human, together in a room with not any other creatures around. The absolute dissolution he could put you in, not knowing that you had the same power over him.

It was like he was stalking prey, you thought to yourself, Noa finally rounded the circular nest that you were still admiring. Or at least, pretending to admire as he placed his brooding body next to yours, crouching to the same level as to be face to face with him. His apparent scent only got stronger at that motion putting you into some brief tizzy. From the distance you found yourselves at, you could see the striking nature of his eyes in full force. Pupils were blown beyond comprehension, darkening only when he felt you tracing the features of his face. Around said pupils were a thin line of his regular green eyes, maybe a few specks of gold floating around. He was still child-like in some aspects, youthful was a better word. His brow ridge was strong, hereditary as he was always destined to be the leader of his Clan. Always destined to be the alpha. The swooping wrinkles under his eyes always gave the impression that he was tired, but being so close to him now, you saw them under hood eyes. He was begging silently.

His skin was varied in color; darker patches hitting his brow line, starting from his nose, upwards into his fur. There was a spot of normally colored skin on his nose, dipping in color when it met the fur on the sides of his face and around his chin. Very much like a human sporting a beard, you thought to yourself. The fur on his face was not completely shelled in darkness. It was remarkably lighter compared to that of his body and it accented his features perfectly in your mind. You lingered on his nose for a split second - never realizing it was shaped like a cartoon heart that you had seen in some children's books. Snapping your gaze up, you met his eyes again. Darker than they were before.

He was wearing an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Not intimidation. You had seen your fair share of intimidated Apes. Not angry. Also have seen your fair share. It was almost… Like he was languishing. You wanted to know what his features felt like under your grasp… You wanted to hold his face closer to yours and consume… An animalistic bearing hit your chest. Without remark, you lifted your hand up, breaking no eye contact. Noa let it happen, seeing the movement out of his periphery. You were going to touch him, he prepared himself for that, all nerves standing on end. The fur lining his shoulders rose in eagerness, his mouth still agape was mumbling something wordless, soundlessly. You were going to touch him. He was certain his heart was going to climb out of his chest. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his sanity. Noa preemptively shut his eyes.

Relief…

Never came.

Just as quickly as you decided to move forward, you were pulling back. Two steps, maybe even three. Noa squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before letting them open. You were gone, leaving nothing for him other than a pelt that smelt like you.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #noa x reader #noa x human reader #planet of the apes #pota #owen teague #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes #planet of the apes x reader

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jinwoosungs · 2 days

Text

{ 179 }

company.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ let's end each other's lonely nights | be each other's paradise | need a picture for my frame | someone to share my reign… }

you walked to school in the early hours of the morning, simply looking down at the novel you were reading in your hand. a smile paints your features the more you basked and read each scene, and as you were in the midst of turning the page, you felt a strange sensation creeping up on you-

the sensation of being followed.

your steps begin to slow just then, unaware of the large hand that reaches out to you-

as sung jinwoo lets out a rich chuckle of your name, wrapping an arm around you as he brings you closer to the front of his chest.

“morning, angel.” he purrs into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you give him a playful pout, lightly pushing yourself away from him.

you missed the lost expression seen in his gaze the moment you pulled away from him, trying to calm down your racing heart as you smoothed down the skirt of your uniform.

with a cough, you put your novel back within the confines of your bag, choosing instead to walk side-by-side with jinwoo to school.

you and jinwoo had a special relationship-

this didn’t mean that you two were a couple or anything, oh no.

what you meant was that you still had memories of another life with jinwoo…

where you and him were both hunters, taking on raids while supporting each other throughout it all.

jinwoo was your best friend during those times; he helped train you, a mere b-rank hunter, making you more proficient in your raids as you slowly rose up the ranks, given you freedom to attend more high level raids despite never being able to level up like he could.

your memories became a little hazy after the war, and once jinwoo used the cup of reincarnation one last time-

you found yourself being 14 again, living with your parents and little brother in your humble home. perhaps what came as the most shocking to you was how you retained all of your memories.

which was why you felt so happy when you and jinwoo ended up going to the same high school together. he was a great source of comfort during the times when memories of your past life became too much to bear.

ah, but you were getting ahead of yourself-

you’ve since then gotten better at dealing with the hardships of your past life, even getting the tiniest bit upset when jinwoo admitted to taking on all the monarchs on his own, spending a total of 27 years within some strange, dimensional rift. you knew that he had won the war all on his own while telling you how he succeeded his mission, now living his life as a normal human despite how truly godlike he was.

jinwoo’s knuckles were suddenly felt being gently placed against the top of your head. “you’re dozing off again.”

“what? i am not dozing off, woowoo.”

a blush immediately paints his features when you refer to him by that stupid nickname. “h-hey, that nickname is dumb as hell, and that’s not even how you pronounce my name! the ‘woo’ in ‘jinwoo’ is more subtle than that, like a soft ~u.”

“heh, whatever, woowoo…!”

you giggle when his eyes flash purple in annoyance, running to catch up to you, but all while hiding his grin.

you would never know the depths of his feelings for you, and that fact alone was killing the shadow monarch on the inside.

{ … }

you and jinwoo end up enjoying lunch together back in the classroom, with you taking casual sips of your juice.

“so do you have track practice today?”

jinwoo takes a rice ball from your lunch box as you stole a piece of his bulgogi beef. “yeah, i do.”

“hehe, did you want me to hang out with you on the field?”

a soft smile paints jinwoo’s features, “if you don’t mind, then yeah. i could use your company.”

a teasing grin paints your expression, “you still trying to get with cha hae-in?”

jinwoo chokes on his rice ball, “w-what the- you know about that?!”

“what? it’s so obvious that you’re still into her! want me to look her up and give you her number or something?”

you giggle in response, basking in jinwoo’s embarrassed expression. you recall how jinwoo was pretty much dating cha hae-in in the original timeline, and they were truly such a cute couple in your eyes!

two of the most renowned s-rank hunters taking on high level gates, never once failing their missions or goals. because of jinwoo’s blossoming romance, you, being simply labeled as his best friend, took a step back and gave them the space they needed in order to let their romance bloom.

and now, with time going backwards due to jinwoo’s actions, you were certain he was going to try and capture her heart once more, leaving you more than willing to play as his wingwoman once more.

despite your playful words, jinwoo appeared uncomfortable, shifting his rice around his lunch box with his chopsticks, eyebrows furrowed in response. noticing the change in his demeanor, you softly ask him, “are you okay?”

your question snaps him out of his reveries. “i’m fine. here, you can have the rest of my lunch… i’ll be right back.”

you could tell something was wrong with jinwoo, watching as he stood up a bit too fast for your liking when you stop him, allowing your hand to wrap around his wrist. “wait, where are you going?”

he looks down at you with gentle grey eyes, allowing the pad of his thumb to grace at your cheek as he wiped away an imaginary stain. after that simple touch, he points to your empty juice bottle.

“i was going to get you more juice. are you opposed to it?”

your eyes go wide, but you shook your head in response. “no, i don’t mind it.”

jinwoo gives you a nod, shaking your grip off of his wrist, leaving you utterly confused as you kept staring at his quickly retreating form.

“how strange…” you look down at your shadow, seeing a few, glowing purple eyes glancing back at you.

at least he still wanted to protect you-

even when you knew you did something to upset him.

{ … }

jinwoo told you he didn’t mind you watching him at practice-

but you didn’t feel like your presence was warranted after upsetting him at lunch earlier. so, you hid out at the library, working on some assignments while doing your readings for your classes. you had thoughts about going home first, but deep down, you knew that avoiding jinwoo wouldn’t help with making this whole situation any better.

as you were writing, you immediately became aware of the shadow looming over you, a pair of solemn, glowing violet eyes staring down at you with a neutral expression.

“why didn’t you join me at practice?”

you tremble a bit, detecting the accusation in jinwoo’s voice as you let out a sigh.

“how could i join you when you’re mad at me?” you whisper back at him.

hearing his scoff tones down your anxieties the tiniest bit, and you felt your shoulders visibly relax at the sound of it. you finally gather the courage to meet his gaze, seeing jinwoo leaning closer to you while placing a hand on the table.

he was dressed in his track uniform, consisting of a purple and white shirt with matching shorts. he taps the top of his sneakers against the linoleum floors, giving you a nice view of his muscular calves.

you were ready to tease him about it, your lips puckered up as a low whistle escapes from them when jinwoo suddenly wraps an arm around the back of your head.

your words die against your throat, eyes going wide when your face was pressed directly against jinwoo’s chest. he runs his fingers through your hair, a pained whisper heard coming from him when he asks,

“do you really not feel a single thing from me? am i doomed to remain just friends with you in this timeline, too?”

your mouth goes dry when you hear his question, and you were uncertain as to how to respond to him. you felt your lips open and close, yet still, not a single syllable would come out.

jinwoo lets out a disappointed ‘tsk’ then, shoving you away from him as he gazes down at you with a neutral look. “forget about it. just… forget about it.”

you watch helplessly when jinwoo picks up his duffel bag and backpack, facing away from you as your heart clenched painfully in response.

if you didn’t stop him now, then you’d lose him forever.

shoving back your chair with such intensity that it nearly falls to the ground, you grab jinwoo’s wrist once more. his eyes go wide, and you catch his shocked expression momentarily before standing on the tip of your toes to fully kiss him.

his reaction was immediate- instinctive even when he wraps his arms around your back, bringing you achingly closer to him all while deepening the kiss.

you lost track of time, uncertain of how many kisses you shared when you finally found the strength to pull away from him. he keeps both of his arms wrapped tightly around you, purple eyes gazing down at you in amusement and love, all while running his hands through your hair.

“i… i always thought that you always deserved a girl like cha hae-in… because, well, you know… she was pretty powerful… and gorgeous, too.”

jinwoo scoffs at your admission, but remains quiet, wishing for you to go on and explain yourself.

“that’s why, i kept all my feelings hidden for you.” unable to meet his gaze, you play with the front of his shirt, smoothing the fabric while picking away at the imaginary lint. “i always figured you deserved better than me-“

“tch, stop.”

jinwoo then gently pulls you back by your hair, eyes becoming more passionate when he crashes his lips against yours. you could only whimper in response to his sudden kiss, hands remaining curled up against his chest as jinwoo presses you even closer to him.

he pulls away first, lightly panting before admitting to you, “please… i never wanted hae-in… but you were so determined to set us up that neither one of us knew what to do.”

you blink up at him in complete shock. “what…? but, she had such a huge crush on you…?!”

jinwoo chuckles all while tracing the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. “well yeah… she liked me, but that didn’t mean that i liked her. how could i like her when i already had you?”

your head was spinning, yet despite it all, you couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “eh? but didn’t you say you wanted to join track to meet her someday?”

jinwoo lets out a huff, bringing your frame into his chest once more before coming clean to you. “forgive me and my poor attempts at making you jealous. joining track was just an excuse, really.”

his admission finally earns bouts of laughter from you, feeling so relieved and happy that your feelings were requited after all. after spending a few more minutes in each other’s embrace, jinwoo gives your body one last squeeze before pulling away from you, giving your forehead a gentle kiss.

“how about i walk back home with you, then, we can talk about our plans for our upcoming first date.”

you giggle, watching as jinwoo packs up your notebooks and assignments before carrying your bag for you, giving you a lovesick expression while you cling on to his side.

perhaps dreams do come true after all…

a.n. - this is so self indulgent, but oh so much fun to write! (/ω＼)

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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thekinslayed · 17 hours

Text

Wandering Eyes

summary | Aemond and his girl visit Saltburn, where a pair of curious eyes watch fascinatingly from the sides. (requested)

pairing | saltburn au: modern!aemond targaryen x girlfriend!reader (+ voyeur!oliver quick, mentions of modern!aegon targaryen x venetia catton)

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! blowjob, voyeurism, oliver quick is a warning alone

wordcount | 2.5k

note | u guys asked for more saltburn aem, and i shall provide! rly happy with how this one came out hehe thank you for the love on the previous parts, which you can find here if you are interested! (1, 2) <3 if you haven't read the first two, no worries! this can still be a standalone fic :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(divider by @starzyyy1)

The sweat beaded on Aemond’s warm, reddening flesh under the sweltering sun. They lounged on lawn chairs overlooking the expanse of land the Catton manor sat upon, clad in only their shorts and sunglasses, too weary from the heat to be wearing any more clothing. There was a slight throb deep within his temples. Perhaps it was from the heat, or the warm liquor they kept passing around, or the puffs of cigarette smoke that stayed like a cloud above their heads from the lack of wind, he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, however, was that the idiotic banter coming from Felix and Aegon wasn’t of any help in alleviating his headache. They were arguing about some dumb blonde who managed to play them both like a fiddle at the same time, which wasn’t the first time, laying claim on who had her first, who fucked her better. God, why don’t they just pull out a ruler and measure their dicks while they’re at it? Aemond let out an annoyed sigh, turning his eye to something more worth his attention, you.

You were laid on your stomach on the grass with Venetia, passing a bottle of rosé between the two of you. Both girls were only clad in their bikinis, skin glistening with tanning oil. You stood out like a blooming tulip in the middle of the wide span of grass at Saltburn, the sight of your exposed flesh beckoning Aemond’s eye hypnotically. You turned to lay on your back, your hair spilling around you like a nymph on the forest floor. There was a warm tinge in Aemond’s belly, one not from the liquor, nor the heat.

This was your second summer together, and like the previous year, you paid visits to your respective homes. This time, however, Aemond took you with him and Aegon on a little visit to Saltburn at the Catton’s invitation. The younger Targaryen always thought the manor was a little too empty for his liking, echoing with the whispers of secrets the walls harbored. Albeit, Dragonstone was much bigger and more grand, the boisterous presence of his much larger family left no room for hidden corners filled with the unknown. The Catton was a much smaller family, quite an odd bunch, and perhaps even more fucked in the head than the Targaryens.

Aemond’s attention returned to the group when Felix passed him the bottle of vodka, taking a small swig of the clear liquid. His gaze passed the sight of Oliver Quick, who was also staring at the two girls laid out on the grass. It was safe to say Aemond didn’t like him, rather suspicious of the mousy little twat. The silver-headed man was wary of the calculating look Oliver always seemed to have, could practically see the gears turning in his head as if he was planning his next step carefully. It was too obvious, maybe not to an idiot like Felix, but it was to Aemond, and from what Michael told him about their short-lived ‘friendship’, Oliver had a desire to get a leg up in Oxford society, and blend in with the elites. It was pathetic, but the Targaryen could care less if he did so, as long as he kept his grubby hands out of Aemond’s business, and he stopped fucking staring at his girl.

“How, uh, how’s Helaena?” Felix asked, tearing Aemond’s burning stare away from Oliver. Both Targaryens snickered at the question, making Felix shift insecurely in his seat.

“Not single, if that’s what you’re fucking asking,” Aegon responded, cackling when their childhood companion visibly deflated at his words. A smirk lifted the corners of Aemond’s thin lips, huffing a dark chuckle under his breath before taking a puff of his cigarette.

“She’s in Hawaii with Cregan,” the younger Targaryen informed, smoke billowing out his lips and nostrils as he exhaled. Felix’s jaw dropped in disbelief, his head quickly turning to the silverheads on either side of him to find any sign that they were playing him.

“Wha– Stark?” Both brothers only nodded, sharing an amused look when Felix groaned, slamming his head backward into the cushion in defeat.

“Aw, come on, pretty boy. Y’know she was never into you like that! Either way, you won’t ever get to try anything on Hel, not unless you want Aemond to knock out some of your teeth again,” the older Targaryen remarked, flashing Felix a bright grin. A pair of blue eyes quickly shifted between the three men, the newcomer listening intently into the conversation he found no part in. Aemond caught the way Oliver stared at a pouting Felix with a strange glint in his eye. Perhaps it was jealousy, something akin to the same look Aemond had when his pretty girl first started bringing Gavey around.

As Aegon continued to poke fun at the tall man, Aemond tuned out the conversation when you and Venetia approached the group. Your skin glimmered with a mix of sweat and oil, and as you approached where he sat, he could feel the heat emanating from your warm flesh. You cupped his jaw, before taking the cigarette dangling from his lips into your fingertips and bringing it to your lips. Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow at you, silently asking where you were off to, seeing as you made no move to settle down on his lap when he beckoned you to.

“Bathroom,” was all you said before walking away. Like a moth to a flame, Aemond quickly followed suit, his cigarette haphazardly stubbed into the ashtray. His good eye trained on the sight of your plump ass as you walked through the halls of the vast mansion, entranced by the inviting sight.

“That guy’s fuckin’ whipped,” Felix commented once Aemond had disappeared after your tail. He took another swig of liquor, before passing it to Aegon, who let out a grunt in agreement.

“You know Aemond, he’s always been too serious… already asked for our grandmother’s ring and everything,” Aegon disclosed, before offering the half-empty bottle of vodka to Venetia. Their eyes stayed on each other like magnets as her lips covered the bottle’s opening, taking a swig of the warm liquor. A droplet spilled over the side of her glossy lips, and a glitter polish-painted thumb wiped off the liquid, before shooting Aegon a seductive smirk.

“No shit?” Felix asked, surprised. A pair of curious eyes watched Venetia and Aegon, Oliver in disbelief at the blatant display in front of her brother. It seemed that Felix didn’t even mind the way they were a second away from devouring each other right then and there, or he just simply was turning a blind eye.

Oliver quickly learned that the Targaryens had the power to turn the exuberant, bright Felix Catton small. They held an air of authority that would make the tide split for their path, an innate confidence that was as regal as their silver hair and pale flesh. It was a level of eliteness one could not possibly climb to, untouchable to a common man like him. He was in awe, yet intimated, and soon he found himself quietly padding through Saltburn’s guest wing. It took him little effort to find the rooms you were occupying, given away by a muffled groan heard in the quiet, deserted halls. Oliver crouched outside your door, peering into the keyhole. It reminded him of one of his first nights here when he had peeked into Felix’s bathroom. The memory made his skin tingle, even more so at the sight of you kneeling before Aemond’s seated form. Your back was facing the door, and your sheened skin glowed under the light that streamed through the old windows. You were topless, your bikini top strewn carelessly somewhere in the room, while Aemond’s shorts were dropped to his ankles. His long, silver mane cascaded over the edge of the lounge chair with his tilted back, soft grunts of pleasure escaping his lips. His large palm rested on the back of your head as it bobbed up and down at a languid pace. Oliver couldn’t see much, but it was clear what you were up to, given away by the sound of your mouth taking Aemond’s cock. A string of curses left the Targaryen’s lips in low mutters, followed by words of praise.

“Good girl,” Oliver heard him say, to which you responded with a moan. Your pace was steady and unrushed, taking your sweet time. You were clearly well aware of what pleased the silver-haired man before you, evident in the way you fondled his balls in one hand, while the other stroked the base of his cock.

Oliver gulped, palming his own hardening length in his shorts at the erotic sight. From his point of view, it seemed that you were enjoying this just as much as Aemond was, with the way you freely moaned around his length. You pulled your mouth off your boyfriend’s cock with a pop, replacing its warmth with steady strokes of your hand. Your attention was shifted to his stones, which you sucked on eagerly. Aemond grunted loudly, his voice bouncing against the walls of the spacious room.

“Feel good?” you said, barely audible to Oliver’s ear with your mouth still buried in Aemond’s sacks. His cock jumped in his palm at your sweet voice, prompting him to slip his hand into his shorts to stroke it instead.

“So good, baby, so fucking perfect,” Aemond groaned. Oliver’s eyes trailed from his muscular chest, littered with light hair, down to his abdomen, which glistened with sweat from the summer heat. He watched as his brows furrowed in pleasure, while his jaw remained slack, his moans falling freely from his lips. His hand picked up its pace while he studied Aemond’s features, from his sculptured jaw, and his aquiline nose. Oliver watched, and he stroked his cock.

Aemond was close, evident in the way his hips subtly thrust into your hand. The hand that was resting on the back of your head gathered all your hair into a ponytail, which urged you to return your lips to his length. You let him set the pace, let him push your head up and down his cock to his liking. Your hands clutched his firm thighs to steady yourself, breathing deep through your nose. You hollowed out your cheeks and pressed your tongue to the underside of his cock to spur Aemond further to his release. His grip on your hair tightened painfully, much to your liking, his pace growing rhythmless and desperate, which Oliver mimicked with his hand. The unknown voyeur outside your room bit his lip to suppress his moans, his own release drawing near.

Oliver watched Aemond use your mouth to his liking, like nothing but a whore on her knees. He watched you allow him to do so, finding your own pleasure with the way one of your hands crept into your bottoms. After one harsh thrust into your mouth, then another, Aemond pulled your mouth off his cock. He stroked his length furiously, while you presented your bare tits to him. Oliver couldn’t see the spurts of cum that painted your chest, but it was seeing Aemond’s face contort in pleasure that made him spill into his hand. He is reminded of watching Felix in that tub many nights ago, and how he enjoyed slurping up the remnants of his seed. It was depraved, horrific, yet the most cathartic thing he had ever done. He imagined himself doing the same with Aemond’s cum, perhaps even licking it off your plump tits.

The familiar sound of Venetia’s giggles pulled Oliver from his thoughts, which was followed by a deep chuckle from down the hall. His feet pulled him away from Aemond’s door, following where he heard another laugh before a door slammed shut from around the corner. In his post-orgasmic daze, Oliver’s elbow collided with a stone ornament, one of the hundreds displayed in the Catton’s home, falling on the carpet with a loud thud. He scrambled to pick up the figurine and return it to its place, silently praying no one heard him. His prayers were unanswered when he heard a door behind him open, making him freeze in his place.

“Oliver,” Aemond said, his smooth voice booming through the empty hall. Oliver turned to face the younger Targaryen, who had one hand leaning above the doorframe. The icy blue of his good eye was sharp as he stared, making the smaller man’s skin prickle under the weight of his gaze. “Are you looking for something?” Oliver’s face burned with the humiliation of being caught, his mouth turning dry as he approached the silver-haired man. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, before letting out an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, no, mate, I-I think I just got lost again.”

Aemond only hummed in response, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest. He stared down at Oliver through his eyelashes, making the man before him fight the urge to cower in fear. Behind Aemond, your voice echoed though Oliver didn’t dare to peek over his shoulder. You seemed farther away, your soft tone covered by the sound of running water. Leaning on the door frame, Aemond turned his head to you.

“Get the bath started, baby, I’ll be right there, yeah?” he called out to you. With a response from you that Oliver couldn’t catch, Aemond turned back to Oliver. “Still getting lost after three weeks of being here?”

Oliver gulped, nodding his head pathetically. He scrambled for a response, muttering something about not being good with directions, to which Aemond only responded with another hum. His pulse thrummed thunderously in his ears, and the longer the Targaryen stared at him with his scrutinizing gaze he felt himself being peeled layer by layer. After a couple of beats of silence, Aemond spoke.

“You’re by Felix’s room, aren’t you? That’s on the other wing of the house. Should’ve taken a left from the staircase.”

The relief washed over Oliver like a warm breeze. He stuttered some sort of thanks, before turning away from Aemond. As he walked away, he didn’t hear the sound of a door closing, which meant Aemond was still watching him. All of a sudden, his walk felt funny, the front of his shorts uncomfortably damp, only aggravated with every step he took. When he finally heard the door close shut, his shoulders visibly relaxed. That was close, too close. Aemond was much too perceptive, much smarter than all of the Cattons combined. Oliver couldn’t afford to be caught by him, so he thought it best to keep his motives far from the Targaryens as much as possible. He made his way through the halls with his tail stuck in between his legs, only stopping when he heard Venetia’s voice again. Like deja vu, he peeked through another keyhole again, spotting Felix’s sister lost in a bundle of sheets, a head of short silver-hair buried in between her thighs.

#bella writes ✍️#queued post #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #saltburn #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader

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hoshifighting · 2 days

Note

hi hi could you do an fwb2lovers wonwoo with some angst but happy ending? I really love your works!!! thank you 😊

Friends with Benefit to Lovers - Wonwoo

a/n: thank you for all the luv, xoxo 💋❤️

warnings: suggestive ending, angst, fluff, being left out, reconciliation.

you and Wonwoo have been tight since freshman year, forged through late-night cram sessions, shared slices of greasy pizza, and endless games of FIFA. it's that kind of friendship where you know each other's quirks better than your own.

one friday evening, you find yourselves at a frat party, the air thick with the scent of cheap beer and the bass from the speakers pounding against your chest, you're just happy to be along for the ride, nursing a red cup of something that tastes suspiciously like punch.

you watch from a distance as a girl from Wonwoo's course sidles up to him, their conversation growing more animated by the minute. part of you wants to intervene, to remind Wonwoo of your existence, but another part—the stubborn part—refuses to budge. so you sit there, nursing your drink and pretending not to care.

you had drunk so much that the party went by too quickly, the cheap alcohol from the punch felt like a punch to your liver. some of your friends still tried to talk to you, but your social battery had already run out.

so, you stay put on the worn-out couch, drowning your thoughts in another cup of punch that's probably more sugar than anything else. the party is winding down, people stumbling out the door in twos and threes, but you're stuck here, waiting for Wonwoo's ride back to the dorms.

time stretches on, each minute feeling like an eternity as you wait for Wonwoo to notice you. finally, he appears in front of you, his expression unreadable. "let's go?" he says, his tone flat.

you stand up without a word, ignoring his outstretched hand as you make your way to the door. the car ride is suffocating in its silence, each passing mile stretching the tension between you until it feels like it might snap.

back in the dorm, you head straight for the bathroom, needing a moment to yourself. as you're drying your hair with a towel, Wonwoo's voice cuts through the silence like a knife. "why are you like this?" he demands, his frustration palpable.

you whirl around, towel still clutched in your hand. "remembering my existence now?" you snap. Wonwoo's taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks.

you square your shoulders, refusing to back down.

"it means you've been ignoring me all night, and now you expect me to act like everything's okay? i'm not a mind reader, Wonwoo. i can't just pretend like nothing's wrong."

"are you telling me this because of soojin?" he asks, his voice tinged with frustration.

you roll your eyes, unable to mask your irritation. "like it's not obvious," you mutter under your breath.

Wonwoo's expression softens, and he takes a step closer, reaching out as if to touch your arm. "look, she's just a girl from my class. we were talking about a new project, that's all. there's no need to feel jealous."

you scoff, cutting him off before he can finish.

"jealous? you think i was jealous?" you shoot back, incredulous. "no, i wasn't. i just didn't want to go to a party and be alone the whole fucking time!"

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"yes, i was with my friends," you concede, your tone softer now. "but i came with you, Wonwoo. and i... i wanted to spend time with you."

"i know, i know," he starts, his tone apologetic yet tinged with frustration. "but i thought you'd be fine with your friends for a bit. i didn't mean to make you feel left out."

you let out a heavy sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"it's not just about being fine with my friends," you say, your voice quieter now, tinged with hurt. "i came here with you, Wonwoo. i wanted to spend time with you. but instead, i felt like i was just tagging along while you hung out with someone else."

Wonwoo's shoulders slump, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck.

"i didn't realize you felt that way," he admits, his voice quiet.

"well, now you do," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. "and it sucks feeling like i'm just some afterthought."

you collapse onto the couch, the weight of the argument draining every ounce of energy from your body. you're exhausted, emotionally spent, and all you want to do is close your eyes and forget about the whole thing.

but before you can even think about resting, Wonwoo kneels down in front of you, his expression soft with concern. you meet his gaze, the weariness in your eyes mirrored in his own.

"hey," he says gently, reaching out to take your hand in his. "are you okay?"

you nod, a small sigh escaping your lips. "yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo squeezes your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "i'm really sorry about earlier," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "i didn't mean to upset you."

you manage a weak smile, the tension in your chest easing slightly at his words. "it's okay," you assure him, the weight of the argument already starting to feel lighter.

Wonwoo leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "i just want you to know that you mean a lot to me," he murmurs, his words a whispered promise. "I didn't realize how much my actions were affecting you. you're not just some afterthought, I promise."

you feel a weight lift from your chest as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.

his tongue finds its way into your mouth, exploring every crevice with a familiarity that makes you mewl. you melt into his embrace, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as if you never want to let him go.

that was another thing about Wonwoo – he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

as the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue like a sweet addiction.

he pull back slightly so both of you can breathe.

"you're not just my friend," wonwoo confesses, "you're... you're so much more than that."

your heart feels like it's about to burst from your chest as you search his eyes.

"I've been scared to say it, scared to admit it even to myself," Wonwoo admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but I can't deny it any longer. I love you."

"I love you too," you whisper, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. "I've loved you for so long."

he kisses your forehead, your lips, giving the smile that you've always loved.

you pull back, caressing his chin and jaw with your hands.

"you know," you murmur, "just because you're sorry doesn't mean i'm going to go easy on you."

Wonwoo chuckles "i wouldn't expect anything less," he replies.

you smirk, feeling a surge of confidence coursing through you. "good," you say, your tone teasing. "because i have a few ideas about how you can make it up to me."

#seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen drabble #wonwoo imagines #seventeen #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #svt imagines #wonwoo seventeen #jeon wonwoo

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hyoqa · 2 days

Text

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial.

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in.

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often.

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

#hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #IM SORRY I GENUINELY FEEL LIKE I YAPPED FOR SO LONG FOR THIS TO HAVE NOTHING REALLY #LIKE WHAT WAS ALL THAT FOR TRULY #who knows idk #ANYWAYS TYSSM FOR READING OMG #i still do hope u enjoyed i spent a little too long for this to end up the way it ended up #I AM SO EXCITED TO WATCH HOSHINA EP #i feel like rereading kaiju too #SO MANY HAPPY THINGS HAPPENING !!!!#i need to review his characgter i feel like im truly not understanding enough i do not know him well enough #TAGS PLS WORK I BEG

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mammonsrockstargf · 3 days

Text

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍’

Mammon wants to find a treasure. First step? Find a siren.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mammon x gn!siren!reader 𝐀𝐍: Back with the Pirate Mammon agenda. >:D Also this ended up being 2.6k words, I don’t know what happened I was just in the zone, I guess.

Mammon wanted to be a pirate. He had a pirate crew. He had a ship. Yet it didn't feel like he was entirely there yet. He even bought a cool outfit: a loose beige shirt and a pair of brown pants. He'd gotten a belt with a little pouch and a handy knife hanging from it. As a final touch, he'd gotten a gold chain with a little coin attached to it around his neck. He even considered getting a peg leg, but he figured that would be going too far.

Mammon didn't know it yet, but he would later come to find that the 17th century was his favourite human era. Pirates were quite literally everywhere, and the sweet, sweet smell of greed was constantly in the air. It was a peak that he would go on to chase for a long time. The California gold rush in the eighteen fifties and the capitalism of the 2000s would come near it, but nothing will ever quite compare to the true pirate experience.

One day, Mammon came to the obvious conclusion. If you want to be a pirate, you have to go find a treasure. No one's a real pirate until they've been on a hunt.

Now, going about finding a treasure wasn't something you just did. You had to have a map. Or a poorly written piece of paper with a prophecy from some witch high on mushrooms. Even better yet would be a magic compass that points to where your heart most desires.

Unfortunately for Mammon, he didn't have any of those things. He just had a wonky-looking crew and a poorly made ship. Apparently, all the good pirates weren't particularly interested in following a lanky, inexperienced, white-haired boy who’d barely finished adolescence. (He tried explaining to them that he was actually thousands of years old several times, but that just made them seem to think that he was drunk, so he eventually gave up.)

So now he was left with the guys that no one else really wanted. A tall, lanky guy with a glass eye, a shorter, fat guy who claimed that he could boil excellent potatoes. A guy with a breath so stinky that it could rival a sea monster, and a short, very strong woman who was actually quite reasonable and definitely Mammon's favourite, but no one wanted her in their crew, because apparently, women aboard meant bad luck.

He appointed a fellow named Crab as his right hand because he was apparently the one with the most experience. There were whispers that he used to sail with a captain known as The Wise, but he was eventually kicked off the crew because he kept stealing the rum. Mammon had asked why they called the man Crab, but that had just made the majority of the crew laugh loudly, so he decided not to press the issue any further.

Crab was a funny-looking guy. He was tall and burly, and half of his face was covered by a red beard, but apparently, he'd gotten too close to a canon once, which lit his beard on fire, and now it wouldn't grow back on the other half of his face.

Crab told Mammon that if he wanted to find a treasure, they had to go to the sea of the sirens. It was also known as The Waste because no one dared to sail there. It was told that the song of the sirens was so beautiful that it would turn any man mad, causing him to jump in the water and meet a horrible fate. However, if one tied himself to the mast, he would live to hear the sirens' secrets. Amongst these, was a promise of a great treasure.

Mammon was brave. He was also quite stupid. So he slapped Crab on the back, laughed loudly, and told him it was a great idea.

So the journey began.

They sailed for seven days, living off jerky and excellent boiled potatoes, because that’s all Mammon could afford to buy. (At least that's what he told the crew. Truth be told, he just saw an easy way to save some money.) As they sailed closer to The Waste, the weather grew gloomier and the men became greyer, yet Mammon was as happy as ever. He was finally getting his treasure. He would return home with riches his brothers could only dream of.

Soon enough, they were near where the sirens resided. The men all put wax in their ears to prevent themselves from hearing their song. Mammon was tied to the mast. Initially, Crab wanted to tie him with rope, but Mammon insisted he go with a chain instead. It was the thickest chain they’d been able to find. Crab had stared at it in disbelief before glancing at Mammon.

“Quite a paranoid fella, aren’t ya, boy?”

“Not paranoid. Just very strong.”

Crab had laughed at that, and then they’d bought the chain.

The ship slowly entered The Waste. Large cliffs were peeking out of the water, marking the entrance to the treacherous sea. Stuck among the cliffs was an old shipwreck. Most of the wood was rotten, caused by the harsh waves constantly throwing themselves against the cliffs. This all seemed terribly ominous to Mammon, but what made a deep shiver run down his back was the big red letters written on the wood.

Stay away

Turn back

Don’t sail near them

Mammon swallowed. He found it weird that the writings had managed to stay on the boat and hadn’t been washed away by the waves yet. He looked up at where Crab was standing. Wax was completely covering his ears, and he sent Mammon a crooked smile. Mammon catched a flash of gold teeth beside a cracked one.

It was quiet for a long time. Then he heard it. Beautiful voices. He wasn't able to make out any words, but the melodies seemed to caress his ears. He looked down at the water and saw a flash of a golden tail. The scales were glinting in the sun. He gasped in delight, and then it was gone again.

The voices were louder now, and they were harmonising. He began to feel giddy and let out a delighted laugh. The golden tail appeared again, and this time it was there for longer.

Suddenly, your head peaked up from the water. Your hair was wet, but somehow it was still flowing around you, as though you were still underneath the water. You stared at him with big, glassy eyes. Mammon was completely unable to tear his gaze away from you.

You watched the ship pass by you before disappearing underneath the water again. Mammon felt a tug in his chest, desperately wishing to see you again, and sure enough, you turned up closer to the ship this time. You opened your mouth to sing again, and Mammon still couldn't hear your words, but he knew that they were beautiful. He knew that you held all of the secrets to the world, that if he could pull apart the symphonies and pick apart the words, he'd discover a great treasure. If only he could get just a bit closer.

He began to pull at his restraints. The metal dug into his skin, creating red marks as he pulled harder. The corners of your lips turned slightly upward as you tilted your head to the side. He could hear you calling for him. It was so loud that he didn’t hear Crab yelling at him, telling him to get a grip, nor did he hear the loud creaking of the wood behind him.

At last, the chains broke and fell to his feet. Mammon didn't waste a second, immediately running across the deck and jumping headfirst into the water.

The water was cold, but he hardly felt it when he saw you in all of your otherworldly glory. Your tail was long and orange at the top. It slowly faded to a more golden colour at the bottom. Towards the end, it connected to two long fins, along with one on each of your sides, that helped you navigate through the water. You had gills along your ribs and on your neck that blew small bubbles whenever you breathed.

You were watching him curiously before you swam a bit closer to him. Mammon went to open his mouth to address you and ask you who you were, but when he did, his mouth filled with water. He coughed, causing it to travel down his lungs.

He winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Demons didn't need air to live, but it was preferable not to have water in your lungs. You were very close to him now, and you grabbed his wrists, your long, cold, elegant fingers with sharp nails wrapping around him, in order to keep him steady in the water and stop him from squirming around. Four of your fingers, apart from your thumb, were connected by thin skin. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the blood flowing underneath his skin.

You smiled at him, and Mammon saw your teeth for the first time. There were several rows, like a shark, and they were sharp and pointy.

Mammon thought you had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

You pursed your lips as if to kiss him, but instead, you blew a bubble, and Mammon felt the pain in his chest dissipate as air surrounded him again. You blew until you were connected by the bubble as well, and for the first time, you were fully face-to-face.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he replied.

“You’re not a man,” you stated, while your eyes travelled down his form. You were still holding onto his wrists, and you slid a sharp nail along his arm, causing a tiny cut to appear, golden blood trickling out of it. It immediately closed itself again, leaving no trace behind.

“No, I’m not,” Mammon said, and he felt a need to apologise to you for not being what you were expecting. You frowned and clicked your tongue, confusion etched into your features by the way your brows furrowed.

“What are you, then?” You asked, and you swam the tiniest bit closer to him while you slightly sniffed the air.

“I’m the great Mammon,” he replied, and he flashed you his signature grin. You pulled back a little and frowned, while you wondered why the strange creature was baring his teeth at you.

“I’ve never heard of a mammon,” you cautiously said. Mammon was completely oblivious to your obvious confusion, as he felt the pride swell up in his chest. This magnificent being in front of him found him interesting. He could hardly believe it. His brothers were never going to hear the end of this from him.

“Well, there’s only one, and you’re lookin’ at him,” he replied. You stared at him. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, not knowing what to say. There was a long silence as you considered what to do. You were going to eat him, but he smelled powerful. Powerful usually meant poisonous as well. Your uncle Grouch learned that the hard way.

“You can go,” you finally said, and the smile was immediately wiped off Mammon’s face, replaced with a pout.

“What?” he asked, and you thought that he looked like a kicked sea puppy. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why he was disappointed. He should be happy that you were not attempting to eat him, but the pout on his face stayed on.

“You’re free of my spell. I’m not interested in a mammon,” you said, waving your hand. You had let go of his wrists a while ago, but when you turned to swim away, he was the one who held on to you.

His touch felt warm. It was practically searing into your skin, unlike anything you had ever felt before.

It was the first time you ever felt that kind of warmth. It wasn’t the low humming of life from your usual prey. This was strong. Born from sea foam and used to harsh waves and low sea temperatures, you'd never felt anything like it. Sirens weren’t kind or affectionate and even the ones you called family, born from the same foam as you, showed no love for you. It made you gasp in surprise, and Mammon quickly retreated his hand, apologizing profusely.

You glared at him, wondering why you were feeling this way all of a sudden.

"I would like you to go back to your ship now, sailor," you said and Mammon grinned at you. Your cheeks were flushing, something you didn't know was possible. You were able to catch two pretty fangs in the row of teeth he was flashing, and it made something inside you flutter slightly.

Those were some very pretty teeth.

"Let's make a deal, yeah?" he said and your attention was caught in his net. If there's one thing a siren loved, it was a trade.

"Yes?" you asked, wanting him to continue. Mammon's smile widened as he realized he had your focus. Yet, he could not help wanting more, more, more. More of your interest, more of your pretty eyes examining him.

"You tell me where ya pretty little treasure is, and I'll come back with it for ya," he said and the corner of your lips turned upward. You had no need for material possessions. You found gold and jewellery boring. It all paled in comparison to your tail.

But this Mammon. You wanted more of him. So if a silly deal would mean that he came back to you, then you'd take it. You leaned in, and you whispered the secret of the treasure in his ear. Mammon flushed at your closeness, as he felt your cold breath on his earlobe, but he kept his composure.

You moved back to look him in the eyes and he caught a glint of yellow in your irises as you smiled so prettily, sharp teeth peeking out slightly. Your eyes trailed down to his necklace and you grabbed the coin attached to it with two fingers. Then you looked back up and leaned forward to press a short kiss to his lips and whispered against him.

"Come back to me,"

Mammon woke up on a beach, the waves slightly pulling at him. He groaned into the sand, feeling an incoming headache. He pushed himself up and looked around, seeing that he had made it to a small island. For a second he considered if it had all been a dream, but then he reached for his necklace, only to find it missing. He smiled to himself, imagining you swimming around wearing his necklace. Then he heard Crab's bouldering voice and loud splashes of water. He looked behind him, to find his right-hand man running toward him.

"There ya are, idiot! What were ya thinkin'!" the man roared, and Mammon winced at the volume. Behind Crab, his ship was anchored and he could see the rest of his crew, curiously looking.

The memories came flowing back to Mammon, and he smiled, immediately grabbing Crab as he reached him, and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"I know where our treasure is!"

AN: I’ve been proofreading for an hour or so and I don’t feel like it anymore, so if there are any mistakes then I apologize. 😫

Pretty divider by @/cafekitsune

#fics #mammon #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x you #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me mammon fluff #obey me fanfic

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milotraflgkl · 2 days

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Kissing Practice

SANJI X FEM!READER

note: THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! content: mild angst, jealousy, thought to be one-sided feelings, insecure reader-ish, kissing/making out, suggestive kissing, sanji being a flirt. WC: 1886

You and Sanji were always flirting, it was obvious the attraction you had for the man and it was obvious that his interest in you was more than most other women. But that didn’t mean his endless flirting with other women came to a halt just because of you, at first it didn’t bother you all that much. It was harmless flirting and banter, but when he started to show more interest your hopes were lifted that he might’ve been interested in you. Maybe it was how long you two were stuck on the ship, you were the only person who ever gladly took Sanji's flirts and gave them back.

But it was your first time as a crew back on land, deciding to spread your legs you all went to the local bar to share some drinks and have social interaction with people other than the ones you were stuck with on the ship. You sat at the bar drinking a beer and making small talk with Usopp, who had already quite a few beers. He was babbling on about something that you couldn’t quite pay attention to because your eyes were stuck on something else, Usopp took a moment and another sip of his beer before he noticed you weren’t paying him any mind and he followed your eyesight. Sanji sat at the other side of the bar with some random woman all over him, moving her hands across his arms and laughing at whatever on earth he was telling her. He was looking at her the same way he had been looking at you those flirtatious moments on the ship and with that, it all hit you in one foul swing. He didn’t like you, you were just to keep him entertained. You swallowed heavily before quickly grabbing another beer and chugging it, then asking the bartender for another.

Usopp turned to look at you immediately, his facial expression became one of a worried one. He watched as you opened the next beer and began to chug it, “Hey- Hey!” He says carefully pushing the drink away from your lips, “Chill out..” He mumbled, you looked at him for a moment and stared. You turned to look at Sanji in the girl hitting it off so well, it made you scoff at yourself for being so dumb and gullible. You squeezed your eyes shut before you placed the beer down on the counter and sighed, “Sorry…” You respond to Usopp taking a deep breath, you weren’t drunk only on your third drink. Just a bit tipsy but another drink might get you there, you didn’t want to be drunk and emotional so you told yourself you’d finish this drink and then get water. You sniffled for a moment as you stared at your beer, flinching suddenly feeling hands against your back. You turn to look at Usopp who was attempting to comfort you and rub your back gently, “He’s gonna keep doing that, maybe you should too? Yknow… If he can flirt so can you.”

You stared at Usopp for a moment, processing what he was saying to you before it fully clicked a little switch in your brain. If he can flirt with others, so can you. You told yourself a small smile coming to your lips, “You know what, you’re right.” You say, pushing yourself by the hands away from the bar. “I did see a handsome fellow earlier~” You hum, twisting your body and beginning to walk off to find the stranger that would be here to simply have some fun for the night. Your eyes scanned around the room before they finally fell upon him, he was sitting alone at a table which is perfect timing. You walked over and sat across from him, beginning to make small talk with him and attempting to flirt with him.

What you weren’t aware of was how there was a pair of ocean blue eyes staring into the back of your head, having forgotten about the woman who sat next to him.

You were hitting it off with this stranger, your elbow perched up on the table and your chin being held up by your hand. The guy began to get a little more comfortable, one of his hands reaching over and touching yours then his leg feeling up your calf. You felt yourself beginning to sweat nervously, why were you so nervous!? You were just harmlessly flirting, a little fun for the night. Then one thought flew into your mind, You’ve never even kissed someone, let alone go past that. You grew nervous that you were leading this man on that he would get you in bed, you had to think of a way to get out of this situation and fast. You listened as this stranger told stories in a way to impress you before you finally came up with an idea, You gagged and covered your mouth acting shocked in so did the man. “S’cuse me..” You mumbled from behind your hands and quickly rushed off to the bathroom.

You finally found the bathroom after struggling in a crowd and quickly locked yourself in, hoping that he hadn’t followed and you could just sit in here for maybe an hour or so then make a sneaky exit. You sighed in relief as a few minutes had passed and no knock from the sound came from the other sound, you looked at yourself in the mirror and immediately your mind began to race. Picking yourself apart from the girl that Sanji had gotten all close and personal with, why weren’t you his type? How could you be his type… You let out a shaky sigh and inhale trying to stop yourself from crying. Knock, Knock. You flinched at the sound of the door and stared in confusion, “[Name?]” A voice called from the other side and you knew who it was immediately.

Sanji.

You stared at the door in shock, why was he here? Had he seen you fake being sick? You didn’t want to see his face right now, you were kind of hoping you could’ve snuck out without any of the crew knowing and going to the ship to give into sleep earlier. You inhaled shakily and squeezed the counter gently before you found the courage to speak, “Yeah..?” You asked out, you heard him attempt the door handle. “You alright? I saw you looked like you were going to be sick.” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the words. You let go of the counter and made your way to the door, opening the door slowly and looking at him. “Yeah… Just had a few too many drinks and guess the food didn’t settle well with it.” You lied and met eyes with Sanji, God his eyes were beautiful you could stare into them for hours.

You realized you had been staring and blinked, “I’m… I’m good now though.” You respond with a soft, nod attempting to slide your way past him before you feel Sanji’s hand on your waist and push you back into the backroom shutting the door behind him. You heard the sound of the lock clicking panic bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you looked at Sanji, you inhaled a shaky breath as you looked at him. “Sanji.. are you drunk?” You whispered out, And he shook his head in response. “Only had one drink.” He whispered back, his eyes slowly traced over your face until his eyes stopped and stared at your lips.

Carefully Sanji led you to press your back against the cold counter, your hands immediately grabbing hold to support yourself as you stared at him in shock. “[Name]…” He whispered out his face so close to yours it made your skin burn and butterflies in your stomach erupt, “Can I please kiss you..?” He asked in a whispered tone as his nose gently brushed against yours, You shivered at the feeling of him so close to you. You were malfunctioning at the question and took a moment to process what he had just asked of you, you turned your head quickly which caused Sanji to let out a small gasp of disappointment.

“I’ve… never actually kissed anyone before.” You muttered out in embarrassment, your eyes glanced towards Sanji as he stared at you in shock for a moment. “You’ve.. never kissed anyone before?” He repeated your own words but as a question, his voice full of pure disbelief. You swallowed and nodded your eyes turning to look away from him again, instead suddenly finding more interest in the countertop beside you. “[Name]…” He whispered, his hand gently touching your jaw and guiding your face back to look at him. You looked at him nervously scared of what he would have to say, he chuckled at how scared you looked. “How about… I give you some private lessons?” He whispered as if the two of you weren’t locked in a bathroom alone, your breath hitched as he offered and stared at him in shock your face becoming extremely warm and you knew he noticed with the grin he had on his lips. “Oh… Okay.” You responded in a breathy tone as soon as you gave Sanji the green light his lips were attached to yours, his hand on your waist pulling you closer and his other found its way to hold the side of your neck.

His lips were oh so soft, the taste of cigarettes still lingered on his lips and you felt like you were dreaming but how gently he was kissing you. You didn’t want this moment to ever end, how his thumb moved gently against your neck and he held you so close. Your mind began to race to wonder how many other women he has kissed this softly then remembering that moments before he had been flirting with another woman, you quickly pulled away which caused him to stare at you in shock. “What… what about the lady you were with?” You asked out trying to catch your breath and watched as his eyebrows furrowed, “What about her?” He asked you. “You just… left her.” You glanced at the door before his hand redirected your face again. “Yeah, I did, for you.” He says, staring at you with a serious yet soft expression.

“Cause I like you [Name].” He whispered and those words sent shivers down your spine, your mind running on auto as you attach your lips back to his and kiss him. He carefully moved away, “Gentle.” He says you nodded as he told you before kissing him more gently which he responds with a pleased hum.

You two would stay in the bathroom sharing simple kisses for a few minutes for the sound of a knock interrupted, the two of you turning into a blushing mess and quickly making your way out of the bathroom and back into the club. Make your way back to sit with the crew and share soft glances before everyone finally decides to leave, but you’ll be needing more of those ‘private lessons’ sometime soon.

#— miloonmetis #one piece #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji #with: sanji #opla sanji x you #opla sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you

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mellxncollie · 3 days

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Part 1 of looking into some of the technical cinematography aspects of the show

(or, why does Dead Boy Detectives look Like That?)

Dead Boy Detectives has some interesting things going on with the cameras. You probably noticed it at some point while watching the show. Whether it was the weird blurs or the sort-of-fisheye, there’s something about many of the shots that doesn’t look the way many people expect TV shows to look.

The main reason why is because it uses an anamorphic lens instead of a spherical lens. These lenses are pretty different from spherical lenses, and the recent rise of anamorphic lenses in TV has not been without some pushback, as viewers unaccustomed to them may find the look weird, distorted, or that it pulls their focus away from the content. Whether you enjoy how Dead Boy Detectives looks or find the cinematography distracting, this post is designed to explain the different effects that the lens has on the show.

This post is very long and very graphics heavy (I made lots of gifs to illustrate my points) so the rest is under a read more.

What is an anamorphic lens and what is it used for?

To begin with, a bit of history and technical info. Say you’re making a movie at most any point before the mid-'90s and you want it to be widescreen. However, the 35mm film you’re shooting on has a smaller aspect ratio (closer to a square than widescreen). You could use letterboxing (black bars on top and bottom) but then you waste the top and bottom parts of the film, and it ends up being slightly lower in ‘resolution.’ The solution: use a lens that records the full height onto the film, but squishes the picture horizontally so that it fills up the whole film frame without any letterboxing. Then, a projector (or a computer) can stretch it out again to display the whole thing in widescreen. The kind of lens that can do that is an anamorphic lens. They've technically been around since before the 1920s but were mostly used between the 1950s and the 1990s.

Up until sort of recently, television networks broadcasted using a smaller aspect ratio that they required shows to be in, and TV shows were not given the kind of cinematography budgets that movies were afforded. Anamorphic lenses are expensive and for widescreen, so they really just weren’t used for TV shows. Instead, a spherical lens was used, which is just the standard lens you think of when you picture a camera lens.

In the 90s, new flat/spherical film formats came out that allowed for widescreen (one of the popular ones being Super 35) caused anamorphic lenses to drastically drop in popularity. However, there has been a recent resurgence, one that you’ve probably subconsciously noticed in both film and television.

In the last 10-15 years, TV has been given larger and larger budgets. Additionally, the rise of streaming services and the use of phones and computers to watch shows rather than actual televisions has meant that networks have started allowing wider aspect ratios, paving the way for anamorphic lenses to begin to be used for series.

The history of these lens’ usage means they’re associated with a ‘cinematic’ look. They have a lot of characteristic effects that are not really ‘natural’ and depending on the viewer, this either enhances the experience or detracts from it.

Lots of recent series have been embracing these lenses (to varying degrees of success), including The Witcher, Sandman, Shōgun, Narcos: Mexico, The Mandalorian, Andor and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. Doctor Who also started using anamorphic lenses at the switch to the 13th Doctor, so that may be a good reference point. For some of these, it’s a very subtle look, for others, the lens choice is glaringly obvious and overdone (I’m looking at you Sabrina), and sometimes, as is the case with Dead Boy Detectives, it’s really obvious but it remains an effective and compelling choice.

Why use an anamorphic lens in the 21st century when you could just use a spherical lens?

Anamorphic lenses create a look that some filmmakers desire, whether for their associations with a more cinematic look or their sometimes unusual quirks. In a film and tv world filled with spherical lenses that are nice, clean, and precise, anamorphic lenses introduce some irregularity and character. Making an informed decision on what kind of lens to use can enhance different themes of the work.

I want to briefly bring up Moonlight to illustrate this point. Go watch the trailer if you haven’t seen it, and you’ll probably see some parallels with the cinematography of Dead Boy Detectives. There’s less of the ‘radial’ look, but otherwise, there’s a lot of the same kinds of things. Moonlight uses an anamorphic lens and it makes the whole thing look dream-like, nostalgic, and a bit like we’re getting into the character’s heads. To me, it indicates that the story is being filtered through people. We’re not detached from the characters, observing them. The story we are watching is personal, emotional, and necessitates intimacy.

Dead Boy Detectives really benefits from the same visual effects. This is not because it enhances a dream-like or nostalgic quality, but because in the context of the show, it makes it look a bit otherworldly, magical, or otherwise supernatural. Additionally, the constraints of the lens means we get lots of focusing in on individual characters, with nice long looks at their faces allowing for more reflection on their dialogue and reactions.

So, here’s 5 different effects of anamorphic lenses to point out to you all. Starting with the one that allows us to easily identify that anamorphic lenses are being used in the first place.

You’ve probably heard of bokeh before. It's the way the lens renders the direct sources of light that are in the background but out-of-focus. You can see in this shot of Jenny how all the string lights are not circular, but elongated. On a spherical lens, these would be round.

In this next shot of the Cat King, the candles around the floor are all those elliptical shapes. Additionally, lots of other details in the background that aren’t from direct light sources also have an elongated shape. This is sometimes called waterfall bokeh.

Finally, check out this shot of one of the cats. Not only are the lights in the background irregular and elongated, but if you look to the left where the ‘horizon’ line is, there's a series of elliptical shapes where the light hits the edge of the docks.

The bokeh effect is one of those things that just happens because of the lens, and makes it pretty easy to identify that an anamorphic lens is being used. Unlike some of the other effects I’ll mention, I don’t have much to say about how this does or doesn’t add to the visuals.

Breathing is how the field of view changes when you refocus to a subject closer or farther from the lens. While spherical lenses also breathe, there’s a much more distorted look to the breathing that occurs with an anamorphic lens.

Lets start with this shot:

You can see how much the frame widens when the focus shifts from the jar of coins to Jenny. It affects the edges much more than the middle of the frame. Here’s the same shot, but with some of the features outlined (forgive my messy outlining, I used my laptop trackpad) so you can see the movement.

The frame widens when the focus goes from the foreground to the background. It appears like the whole shot is being stretched apart horizontally and compressed vertically.

However, it also does the reverse, narrowing as the focus moves from the background to the foreground.

(also in that last shot of hell, notice how the two points of light in the background elongate into those oval bokeh once they are no longer in focus)

Breathing is a very dramatic way of refocusing, and it forces us to pay attention to different things. In the shot of the Night Nurse, we have a light but the important thing after it turns on is not the light but the reaction that the people have to the cause of the light. In that shot of Niko and Edwin, it’s telling us: listen to Niko. In the shot of hell, it’s not letting us forget what the characters are running from.

The next effect is the lens flare. You can get a lens flare from a spherical lens too, but anamorphic lenses typically generate strong, horizontal flares. A spherical lens would typically create a more radial flare, with multiple lines shooting out in different directions from the light source like rays from the sun.

We see these all over the show, sometimes they’re very prominent, such as in these shots with obvious light sources:

And sometimes they're a bit more subtle. Take this shot of Edwin, Charles, and Crystal on the dock:

While the lens flare at the top of the frame has a clear source, there’s a bunch of other horizontal lines cutting across near the middle and bottom half of the frame. These likely come from light sources outside of the frame.

Some directors, cinematographers, and other creators really like anamorphic flares. Others don’t. For a show with so many dark scenes that have colorful and dramatic lighting, the lens flares seem to enhance this. They are also a constant reminder of the interaction between the lights and the camera, kind of a fingerprint of the production. Sure, they make it seem more ‘cinematic,’ but I think they also ground us in the physicality of the production. (Kind of ironic given the lack of physicality of the main characters, and also you could consider the flares themselves to be the ghosts of the lights and the camera!)

Barrel distortion is where we start getting into why exactly the show looks the way it does. This is basically a subtle fisheye effect. Because of the squishing and stretching of the footage, anamorphic lenses have more distortion than spherical lenses, and it is strongest around the edges.

You can see it most clearly in shots that have lots of vertical lines. They are relatively straight in the middle of the frame, but the closer to the edges, the more they are warped.

Looking at that shame shot of Niko in the bathroom, I have set it to stop at 3 different spots. Pay attention to the shape of the edge of the door.

At the start, it’s curved outward, like an open parentheses: (

Then, in the middle, it’s a vertical line: |

Finally, as the door passes all the way across the frame to the opposite side, it curves inward, like a closed parentheses: )

Again, notice how the lines in this shot of the Lost & Found Department change as they move from the outside towards the center. The door has an outward bulge at the beginning but becomes more 'normal’ shaped as it gets further away.

Anamorphic lenses can also have a pretty shallow depth of field and it’s used a lot in this show which is why we get a lot of those centered close-ups, and why we get that ‘radial blur.’

The center of the frame is where the actors are least likely to be distorted, meaning its easiest to have just one character in the dead center (pun intended). With a shallow depth of field, the background is out of focus, and since the actor is in the center, the background gets the most affected by the barrel distortion, leading to the sense that the background has been radially blurred.

This blurred background with a strong, centered foreground really makes objects in the foreground pop. We are then able to really focus in on different objects and characters. It brings immediacy and intimacy. Here, we have nothing to do but consider Charles. He isn’t speaking so we must consider his reaction to what’s being said.

Also, the further a character is from the center of a shot, the more they are distorted, such as Edwin and Charles in this still:

This kind of distortion definitely lends a more unnatural look to the shots, which definitely supports a show about ghosts and the supernatural. If the subjects are able to see things in our world in a way the viewers cannot, then why display the physical world the way we see it?

Finally, we have focus falloff. This is (like some of the other effects) a distortion that occurs around the edges. Here, the focus decreases the further from the center of the frame even if they’re all about the same distance from the camera.

In this shot of the Tongue & Tail, the sign 'Butcher Shop’ is clear and legible. But imagine if that sign was up in the top left or right corners, where things start to get blurry. We probably wouldn’t be able to read it.

It's also visible in this shot of Edwin. Not only does the floor get blurrier the further you get from the center, but you can see how the rope is less in focus in very top and very bottom of the frame.

The falloff (combined with the barrel distortion) is how we get the really unique dream-like look of the Edwin and Niko scene on the roof in Episode 8. (If you’re having a hard time spotting the falloff here, look at their legs)

When you start looking for falloff in this show, you start to see it everywhere. It’s easiest to spot in the corners of shots, but you can usually see all the way around the edges.

Look at the corners of this still of Edwin, or the way the top and bottom of Niko’s rent envelope aren’t as clear as the middle of it.

Or in this still, look at Charles’ jacket. The arm closest to the center has a much more defined line between it and the background compared to the arm closest to the edge.

This blur definitely is one of the more noticeable effects in the show, and it’s good at focusing our attention on the center of the frame. It guides the viewer exactly to what we should be looking at. We get tons of centered shots in this show because of this and the barrel distortion.

The falloff makes the show look softer and artistic, sometimes painterly or impressionistic. More than any other effect, the falloff is what makes me feel like I’m watching a dream or a vision. It puts us into the sensation of being fully immersed in a story.

I would argue that all of these effects (but especially the last two) not only enhace the supernatural aspect of the show, but they help us fall in love with the characters. They focus us on their faces, and encourage us to reflect on their motivations, reactions, and thoughts. The lens is telling us that we are not to take things at face value. It’s not letting us forget that there are multiple people and multiple stories involved, that things are blurry around the edges, and that things are not perfect and clean-cut.

-----------

Sometime in the next week or so I’ll be working on part 2, where we’ll take a closer look at the cinematography of Edwin’s flashback to 1916 in Episode 1.

I really wanted to highlight the work of the cinematographers, Marc Laliberté, Craig Powell, and Pierre Gill because it’s clear that there was so much care and intention put into every aspect of this show.

I’m so glad fans of this show are really embracing the work of different crew members, like the work of costume designer Kelli Dunsmore (and if you somehow haven’t seen @captainfantasticalright's posts about the costumes and other aspects of the show, please go check them out right now. My roommates and I have a kind of 'stop everything, new costume analysis dropped' attitude towards their posts, and their approach to show analysis was definiteily an inspiration for this)

If you want to read more about anamorphic lenses, the article Why ‘Shogun’ (and the Rest of TV) Is Slightly Out of Focus in The Ringer is about Shōgun and the rise of anamorphic lenses in TV (Marc Laliberté also worked on a few episodes of Shōgun) and it's a great place to start.

Finally, I want to first thank @skyvoice for these tags on one of my gifsets for semi-inspiring this post (I was already considering making this but these made it into a reality).

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #niko sasaki #crystal palace #cinematography #cinematography analysis #dbda #mygifs #dbda meta #dead boy detectives analysis #dbdagifs

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muddyorbsblr · 3 days

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charades

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: pre-relationship era; months before 'one look and they'll know'

Summary: After a particularly horrible day on set, Chris extends an invitation for you to join the cast in a game of charades to unwind.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning/s: workplace bullying (mentioned); language [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: hints of mutual pining; we're in Hemsworth's POV

"Come on, it'll be fun, Tiny Terror, I promise." Chris gave your shoulders a slight shake to hopefully snap you out of the sour mood you'd been in all day. It was more than obvious why, considering that there were a good few production assistants that looked like they were on their own personal mission to get you to break composure and break a nose, constantly putting your team down for working too slow or some other reason.

One of them even tried insisting that there were props out of place so they could call into question your skill in clocking the continuity between shots. And while it was simple enough to debunk their accusations, it had also been a rather tedious day even just watching all of the little inconveniences happen that seemed hellbent on putting a damper to your day. He couldn't imagine how much more stressful it was in your shoes.

You were only allowed a few minutes to breathe without much worry when those assistants were pulled aside for Taika to have a word with them. Because other than him, there was someone else that not only witnessed the borderline harassment that occurred today, but was damn near foaming at the mouth to start snapping at them for their insolence.

Tom.

And right now Chris could only imagine that the Brit was standing at full height putting forward every single intimidation tactic he had on display at those people and asking them point blank if they had some sort of issue with you.

"I really don't know, Hemsy, it's been a long day. I kinda just want it to be over," you sighed, the facade you'd put in place of trying to look unbothered finally cracking as your shoulders slumped. "No idea who fucking pissed in their cereal this morning but if their goal was to drag someone down with them, they fucking succeeded. Just wanna go back to my hotel room and order a big bowl of pasta and a bottle of wine and turn my phone off until tomorrow morning."

"Alright, how about this. Just a few rounds, and if you hate it, I'll pay for your pasta and wine?"

You paused, thinking over his offer for a few seconds before finally sighing, "Fine. Thirty minutes. But if I tell you I wanna go, you better be ready to order me the fattest bowl of truffle cream pasta you can find."

Just as you walked off back to your team, Taika and Tom came out of one of the back offices where they sequestered the offending crew members. There were visible scowls on their faces as they muttered to themselves while Taika whispered some instructions to security, probably telling them to keep an eye on the troublemakers moving forward.

"Saw you talking to Lil Mayhem," Taika spoke up once he stood where you did just a few moments ago. "She alright?"

Had the situation not been so tense, Chris probably would have poked a bit of fun at the way Tom's face became visibly more animated as he scanned the set trying to find you. If the Brit became even the slightest bit more enamored with you and still refused to do anything about it, he might have to tell you himself just to caution you that if you didn't feel the same way, you'd have to let him down gently. And preferably sooner rather than later.

"She will be," Chris answered. "She's joining us later."

"Ah perfect," the New Zealander exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "We can pair her off with Tom."

"Hmm?" There was an alarmed look in Tom's eyes now, the sound coming out of him uncharacteristically higher pitched than normal.

"Oh come on, mate, did you really think nobody noticed? You look at her like a pup, wagging its tail and jumping in place when its mum comes home." Chris clapped a hand down on his shoulder, trying not to laugh at how mortified he looked finding out his subtle "work crush" on you wasn't exactly that subtle. "Just don't go humping her leg when she walks in."

"Oh my God, yes you're here too," Tessa exclaimed when you walked into Taika's suite, doing a little bounce on her place at the couch and patting the seat beside her. "We can be partners and smoke their asses."

"Hemsworth promised to buy me pasta if I hated it," you told her with a shrug, sitting at the vacant seat. You didn't seem to have noticed that Tom had moved over, making room next to him on the other side of the table. "And I'm not one to turn down free food."

"Tessa you're already partnered with Chris over here," Taika informed her, pointing at the Australian.

"Hold on since when?" He simply showed her a paper containing all your names, your eyes widening slightly when you saw that yours was next to Tom's. "Fine," she huffed, shifting her gaze over to Chris. "We got this."

Taika then presented a little fishbowl containing folded scraps of paper and explained that a single turn would consist of each of you picking out a paper and trying to sign out whatever was on their paper, while the other had to guess what it was. Straightforward enough. "Whoever's signing cannot talk, but they can make sounds if they think it'll help," he kept on explaining. "Winning pair will get…a nice swanky dinner for two when we get to LA for the premiere. Sound good?"

Lay it on a little thicker, Taika, I don't think they're catching on yet, Chris thought sarcastically, immediately clocking the way your cheeks were reddening and Tom was without a doubt imagining what it would be like to be sitting across from you in a fancy restaurant, imagining that you two were on a proper date. What with the way he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, along with that dopey lovestruck smile painting his face every time you even shared the same breathing space, it wasn't that hard to take a guess what the Brit was thinking right at this moment.

Once everyone had a scrap of paper in their hand, Taika spun a little wheel of your names to pick out which pair went first. "Alrighty then, Tom? Y/N? Which one of you'll be guessing first?"

"Oh, uhm…can I guess first? 'Cause I can't sign for shit." Your request as you addressed Tom sounded casual enough, had it not been for the chuckle at the end that immediately had both Chris and Taika knowing much better than to mistake your demeanor for 'casual'. Seemed you were as skittish around Tom as he was around you.

And maybe Chris didn't have to interfere and advise you to let his friend down easy after all. Maybe he just had to sit back and let you two find each other at your own pace.

Though admittedly this was the type of behavior that started out cute but would grow frustrating to watch if it went on for too long. If neither of you made a move in the coming weeks he might be tempted to lock you two in a cramped storage closet to move things along.

Tom stood up from his seat, cheeks quickly becoming tinged with pink when he saw the words on his little scrap of paper before looking up and holding your gaze. On a whim, Chris decided to take his phone out and have his camera at the ready.

The chime on Taika's phone signaled him to start, and he held up five fingers in front of you.

"Five words." He then nodded and held up one finger before creating a letter "T" with his hands. "First word 'The'." He held up four fingers next and did the "T" symbol again. "And fourth word 'The'. So 'The Blank-Blank The Blank'?"

He nodded at you, a light shining in both your eyes as he kept on, like a couple of kids excited they found someone to play with. But then when Tom went on to sign the second word, for a split second you gave him a look that had everyone in the room that paid even the smallest amount of attention that his affections were definitely not one-sided.

You were well on your way to being completely smitten with him, too.

He held up two fingers before making a lassoing motion and snapping his fingers so loud that the sound made your neck twitch, your eyes glazing over as he pointed to the space in front of him. "Uh…uhm…Capture?" He shook his head, repeating the motion again. "Herding?" He shook his head again. "Collaring--Cowboy?" He let out a laugh before shaking his head again. "Okay I don't think I'm gonna get that, maybe another word we're running out of time."

Tom took a deep breath, as if composing himself before holding up five fingers. And then he drew his hands close to his chest and started making the most ridiculous sound with his head tilted to the ceiling. "Ememememe omomomomo".

That had you bursting into a fit of giggles, making him break out into a face-splitting grin and a few chuckles of his own. "I'm sorry I got absolutely nothing on that, go back to the second word." He went back to the lassoing and snapping movement. "Wait is this for a person or an animal?" He made a motion as if weighing an object in each of his hands, signaling to you that it was both. "Both?! Okay so…domestication?" He shook his head, but motioning for you to keep going down that route. "The--Taming?" Then you gasped, standing up right as two seconds were left on the clock, clapping your hands. "The Taming of the Shrew! The Taming of the Shrew!"

Out of the sheer excitement in the moment, he made his way around the table, grasping for your hands before framing your face in his hands. Had you both lost yourselves in the moment for even a few seconds longer, Chris would have bet good money that you two would have shared a kiss right in front of them.

But then both of you froze in place, giving each other an awkward smile before he stepped back, making his way back to where he stood seconds before. Good thing Chris already had his phone in hand and snapped a photo before your mutual shyness toward each other got the better of you.

"Cute," Taika commented, throwing Tom a look. "Alrighty then Y/N, it's your turn now."

You stood, looking at your scrap of paper and then looking around the room, your eyes landing on the decorative skull flower vase on the dining table.

Before you could signal for Taika to start the clock, Tom spoke up, "Hamlet?"

A choked sound of utter shock slipped out of everyone else in the room. "Hold up, that counts right, T?" Taika just nodded.

"How the fuck--Are you two telepathically connected or something?" Tessa threw the question out, pointing her finger at both of you. "You know what it doesn't matter, the night's still young. We still got a chance to smoke 'em, Hemsworth."

Chris wasn't paying much attention, shooting you a text instead. So you wanna cash in on that free food, Tiny Terror?

He had to fight back the knowing grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth seeing the message you typed back. I could stay a few more rounds.

A/N: I did mention before that I have some pre-relationship chapters planned for these two blorbos, right? 👀 Well if I didn't, I'm saying it now. Chapters. Plural. I honestly don't know how many pieces I have in store for this collection but safe to say it's not ending any time soon. 😳💖

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #one look & they'll know #muddyorbs writes

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 3 days

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≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with plot), porn with feelings, past relationship trauma (see: toxic relationship, slight implications of mental and physical abuse), reader with insecurities (self-worth, relationship), angst ish?, hurt/comfort, kissing and making out, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, soft sex, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of nicknames "pretty" "princess" "milady/my lady", lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited))

wc : 5k+

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @thoupenguinman (sign up here!!)

an : a lot softer and less... explicit? than the rest of my works i have on here?? but happy june guys, have my compensation for not including jem in the youtiful lineup <3

Thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end; but on a Wednesday, in a café—you watched it begin again.

The walk home was always tedious.

You passed this way every night; it was always quiet. Nothing but the click clack of your heels against the pavement would echo, the streets devoid of life as they usually were, especially at this hour. It didn’t bother you. It never did. Even the rhythmic buzz of the lamplights were familiar to you, little lulls of comfort that were always welcome.

It was lonely, usually.

You were used to it that way.

But it was different tonight.

You leaned against the warmth to your side, his arm on your waist drawing you close. He chuckled, almost as if he found your more obvious display of affection a little endearing, and then he responded in kind—a soft, barely-there kiss over the top of your head, just enough to remind you fully of his presence.

“Still a little far?” came his voice. And the soft shake of your head caught another whiff of his cologne, that grounding, earthy scent mixing well with the smell of flowers you’d come to associate him with.

It made you smile.

“Just a couple of blocks ahead. But… thanks for, you know. Going out of your way to walk me home, and all. You really didn’t have to…”

You didn’t look at him, but you could almost hear the raise of his eyebrow as he spoke; “What? Of course I’d walk you home! Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me not to make sure my date gets home safely, right!?”

He sounded bewildered that you would even ask such a thing, and you laughed. A genuine laugh. One that you hadn’t had in quite some time.

“I know, I know. I’m just used to this route, that’s all. I come home at this hour on most days, so it’s nothing new to me…”

“Hey, hey. Come on. I wouldn’t leave a pretty girl like you all alone, especially not after we’ve just had dinner. Cut me some slack, won’t you? Let me spoil you a little bit, maybe I just… want this date to last a little longer.”

His voice seemed to soften the more he spoke, and as your steps slowed down—almost as if in response to him—he turned to look at you.

“Everything okay?”

That his first instinct was concern for your wellbeing made you blink in surprise.

“Huh?” you hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slowed down, the sting against your heel much more obvious now than it had been at the start of your date. You didn’t mean, either, for your gaze to shift down, maybe testing a couple of your steps—

“Oh… Is it your heels? Do your feet hurt?”

Jeremiah was observant.

His voice came out a lot gentler than it had been, and he immediately pulled you over to the side. “Not much further, right? I can carry you, if you want. That way you wouldn’t have to trouble yourself too much…”

There was something like a sense of hesitation that passed in your eyes. Perhaps, you hadn’t noticed it yourself—not until you turned your head away from him, gaze drifting a little off to the side.

A beat, and then; “...Okay,” you sighed, giving in. “But, I…”

He crouched down, barely giving you much time to react, helping you over his back. He was much warmer like this. Much closer to you. And you wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to revel a little more in the moment. The floral scent was much stronger, too, up close, the way you were. Reminiscent of how long he’d work in the shop for a day; of how much time spent around the plants he cared for so tenderly. You recalled how he mentioned he could never get the scents out from him completely, but you liked it.

It was comforting.

You buried your face into his hair for a moment as he walked.

“...Sorry,” you mumbled out next. Your chin rest against his head, looking out into the lamplit path before you. “I don’t mean to trouble you. I won’t wear heels next time…”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

He glanced back, turning his head slightly, just enough to make brief eye-contact. “There’s nothing wrong with heels. Must’ve been tiring for you to walk in them this whole evening, so I get it. I don’t mind helping out a bit, you know? Besides…”

He paused, and you caught a glimpse of a smile.

“You look really pretty in them.”

Simple words that made your heart flutter.

Perhaps, words that you’d never heard directed to you yourself, not in this context.

And that was the first time—probably, the first in the longest while—that you’d ever felt so… loved.

And then there would be several more instances after that.

Simple things, too. Like the time he listened to your favorite song with you; new, and unfamiliar to him, but taken without judgement. Accepted with a cheerful smile.

You remembered that day.

The little speaker had been sounding out some music as the two of you moved around the kitchen. Flour in your hair, flour on his apron, hands busy molding the dough into those perfectly round shapes that gave you joy… A little hum, here and there, the casual bob of the head to the beat. In a lighthearted atmosphere, you simply enjoyed being in his presence. The love that both of you had for baking became a comfort in your relationship, any moment spent next to him that way was enough to chase most of your worries away.

But a shared playlist between the both of you also meant that there would be a couple of tracks tailored each to your own tastes—

Yours, you knew, were not always so… well-received.

“Oh? What’s this song?”

His ears had perked up at the very start of the tune, hands pausing if only to be able to get a closer listen.

It was reminiscent, almost; the image of it familiar. Because these were songs that they wouldn’t get. Songs you’d be forced to change; songs you’d be told to listen to alone—sometimes, oftentimes, you had to cater to the tastes of others. You’d taken a risk by putting the song on the playlist at all.

He could listen, and then…

“O-oh, that’s just… Um, you know. One of the songs from my side of the playlist…”

You’d laughed a little awkwardly, pausing, too, in your movements, only to dust off your hands and reach for your phone. “We could find something else!” was your immediate reaction, scrolling through the playlist, easily prepared to switch if need be.

And his reply would’ve been one to stick with you for quite some time.

“I don’t mind, you know,” his voice had softened, as if having noticed your shift in demeanor. For a moment it didn’t matter that the both of you were covered in all the mess that your baking session had caused, and he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I think it’s a pretty cool song! I’ve… heard that sometimes the things people listen to say a lot about themselves. And I want to know more about you. So I’d listen to any kind of music that you would, too, princess.”

It was the first time he’d used the nickname with you.

You’d retaliated with a flick of leftover flour into his hair, but you smiled.

Typical Jeremiah.

The swirl of doubts that had settled into the pit of your stomach seemed less daunting—

And he would do it again.

He made sure that he would.

You’d never talked about it, not really—it wasn’t a topic you were ready to open just yet, but Jeremiah was patient.

He would love you, anyway.

Legs tangled with yours on the couch, hands running softly through your hair… He’d let you talk with him. You wouldn’t get reprimanded for speaking, even despite the movie playing on the TV, even despite whatever it was he’d be working on. The walls were less dividing, you felt a little bit more like… yourself.

You hadn’t, in a while.

And that night, he told you he loved you.

For the first time, as you drifted off to sleep, his lips against your forehead, soft murmurs of adoration into your hair… he told you he loved you.

And maybe it didn’t matter anymore, what happened in your past.

He made you want to believe again.

That this could work.

That this was worth it.

That he was worth it.

It was all you had thought about for several days; the what ifs.

The way you could crash and burn at the prospect of another cycle repeating—of letting your guard down, of letting him in, of all the uncertainties that came with diving in headfirst when you so desperately wanted to trust in him, only to fear what felt like an inevitable end. All fragrant perfumes as petals unfurl one by one, a sea of beautiful pinks and reds enough to blind you into their allure and have you bleed—you had always felt this way. Every rose had their thorns; and you’d just never learned to love… without them.

Never learned to love without the lies.

Never known how much to take before you realized enough was enough; never known how far to let them sink, how many cuts and scrapes and bruises you had to endure.

But Jeremiah made you want to believe.

That maybe this rose had thorns that wouldn’t be so skin deep. Maybe this rose was worth it; maybe this rose could be sweeter, a bed of roses, torture redistributed, something… different.

Jeremiah felt different.

You wanted to believe it.

You felt that you believed it.

And perhaps, that was why you wanted desperately not to mess things up.

The phone call was the last thing you remembered. His voice had been cheerful, particularly upbeat, no doubt looking forward to coming over once he was free—you checked the time, then, you remembered. He would have been over in a little more than an hour.

You’d fallen asleep.

The idea was to cook dinner; the idea was to be a little fancy—for all that he had been spoiling you, you only figured that you could return the favor as best as you could.

Clearly, things worked out much… differently. If you could still call it working out at all.

You woke up to a gentle shake of your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your forehead. His voice was soft in your ear when he spoke this time; “Hey, princess. You nap okay?”

Your eyes widened.

Your phone, clutched in your hand, held close to your chest, had been turned off—likely due to the fact that you’d forgotten to charge it, again.

“J-Jeremiah?” You were still a little groggy as you sat up to face him, barely registering the little smile on his face. In the moment, you couldn’t quite tell if he was trying to tease you; instead—the panic set in.

If he was here, and if he’d taken to waking you, that only meant that you weren’t able to prepare dinner at all.

And you knew that Jeremiah would most likely let it slide, you knew in your heart that he wasn’t upset.

But, perhaps, your natural response remained rooted in patterns of the past.

It was quick, almost—the way flashes of red seemed to cloud your mind for a moment as you jumped up, nearly bumping into him in the process, not at all processing the look of surprise that had formed on his face.

“Milady?” He’d called out tentatively.

“I— god, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I know you’re coming home from a really long day, and we promised we’d have this dinner, and—shit— I-I’ll get something ready! Just give me a few moments, I promise I’ll—”

Rambling.

A habit you had developed very, very early on, and a habit you knew often lead to your own demise.

Jeremiah reached out as if to steady you, his brows knitted together in concern, his hand poised—

And you winced.

The physical recoil was nearly instantaneous.

You took a step back, shoulders tensed, face turned slightly to the side, almost as if bracing for something you knew would have been familiar to you.

“Princess, hey…”

It didn’t come.

Instead, Jeremiah inched closer, taking your hands into his, giving them a little squeeze.

“It’s alright,” he gave you a little nod, voice slow and gentle. It was enough encouragement to coax you to look back at him—and the love in his gaze made you draw in a breath.

“‘Miah,” you choked out, and you felt tears sting at your eyes.

“It’s okay, princess, look at me. You good? I’m not upset with you, you must’ve been tired, too… I feel a lot better knowing you got some rest, so don’t worry about dinner. We can just order something from outside.”

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe him—almost.

But you knew that look in his eyes. They were sweet, and tender, and loving. Caring—adoring. So much so that it was overwhelming, almost. The honesty, the sincerity in his words… Knowing you were unable to fulfil something you promised him, yet still choosing to prioritize you out of it. How you felt. How you rested, despite being undoubtedly tired himself.

You couldn’t help it, then. You fell forward into his arms, burying your face into your hands, trying not to look at him as the tears flowed down your cheeks. Your sobs remained choked back, as if refusing to let them free, and he rubbed comforting circles into your back.

You could feel his confusion, undoubtedly.

“C’mon, princess, talk to me. What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”

A shake of your head.

“But I gotta hear it from you, pretty… Hey, I’m not upset, you know that, right?”

This time a nod of your head, and your hands moved to wrap around his waist.

“I know, I just… M’sorry, ‘Miah…. I know you don’t want to see me like this, I just—it’s all so overwhelming, I—I’m sorry, I’ll fix this, I’ll fix me, I’ll—”

“Shhh, shhh. Shhh. Shhhh.” He tucked your head under his chin, the warmth of his embrace tightening its hold on you. A little shift, and he tugged you back onto the couch with him, resting in his arms, thumb reaching over to wipe away your tears. “You don’t need to do anything now, princess. You don’t have to fix everything from the start, sometimes it’ll just… Take some time. S’alright to cry with me, I don’t mind. You’re still pretty when you cry. It won’t make me love you any less.”

You listened, sniffling, arms wrapped around his chest.

“You can be vulnerable with me if you want to,” he continued; repeated. “You can cry all you need to, too. I’ll always love you, milady.”

And you didn’t protest.

Not as he tilted your chin back up to look at him, leaning in to place another kiss on your forehead—”I love you like this,” he whispered.

The space between your eyebrows; “I love you like this.”

Then on your cheeks—the tips of your ears—the tip of your nose.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

A promised whisper with every little peck, the graze of his lips against your skin so gentle that you could melt.

“I love you,” another whisper, before his lips were on yours. Supple, and soft, and your eyes closed to relish the moment.

“I love you,” you mumbled back.

And his lips were back on yours as your back hit the couch, fingers threading through your hair, resting over the side of your face only to cup your cheek and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. His other hand lay on your waist, gentle, rhythmic strokes over your clothed skin, moving in time with the way his lips seemed to dance with yours. It was quick, how things began to escalate. But you didn't protest. You fell into it, the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, the heat radiating off of your bodies, flushed together, leaving the air heedy with want. Time seemed to slow to a stop in that moment, and your lips parted just enough to let his tongue delve into you.

He did it first; a soft “Mmh…” against your lips, reverberating in his chest and leaving you with tingles all over your body. Each time he pulled back you would gasp, only to have him back against your lips, as if neither of you could stop—and neither of you wanted to stop. Within seconds, the sounds of hushed moans and slick, sloppy kisses seemed to bounce around the living room.

His hands began to play coy, sliding beneath your shirt, the direct skin-to-skin contact making you jolt. He'd leave goosebumps in the wake of his touch, hands trailing up the side of your waist…

It was intoxicating.

Your eyelids felt heavy, and you felt the way you would lift your head, chasing the warmth of his lips when he pulled back, despite the way your chest heaved as you panted for air.

“‘Miah…” you spoke first; a little tug on his sleeve. It was the only way you could ask for more, what with the way you were desperately trying to catch your breath.

He smiled, as if he knew.

Of course he knew.

“Pretty princess,” he mumbled, leaning in to place a kiss against the corner of your lips, just barely missing your own—teasing. “I love you.”

He said it again.

Your heart fluttered.

“I love you, and…”

You could feel his breath on your skin, hot, and heavy, and laced with threads of desire you both knew had stirring within you.

It was as if he couldn't resist, barely getting his sentence out—not even at all completing it—before his gaze dropped to your lips, and there you were again: crashing.

It was his hands that seemed to do the talking for you, sliding further up your body, his touches more intentional. The fabric of your shirt rode up more and more, and then it was you who was doing it for him: pushing his hands up against your breasts, allowing your shirt to bunch up over the top of your cleavage, moaning into the kiss at the intimate contact.

“Milady…” he would groan against you, pressing his body into you, letting you feel the extent of his own desires. “God, I… I love you.”

He pulled back slightly, panting over your lips. His hands moved to undo the clasp of your bra, and then they were back—”Can I show you how much I do?” he whispered.

“But, you… You haven't—we should have dinner…”

“It can wait. You're more important. Please, princess?”

And you knew you could never refuse.

Within seconds he had you pressed up against the couch, kisses as heated as they were, hands kneading into your flesh. His thumb grazed over your nipple, so pert and standing to attention—you could feel the way your chest arched into him in response.

Your moan came out louder than you expected when he pulled back, lips glossy and swollen from how much you'd been kissing. He rest on his heels to watch you writhe—his fingers twisted and pulled at your nipples, massaging into your breasts… Your eyes closed if only to avoid the head of his gaze, but you could feel it—the way he observed you, the way his eyes roamed over your body, the way it would twist and arch into his ministrations.

“So damn pretty,” he whispered.

And then you felt a jolt through your body when a hand traveled down, dipping beneath the waistband of your lower garments—and that was when your eyes opened.

A soft gasp fell from your lips.

His eyes were careful on yours, his face just as flushed, his hair much more of a mess than you remembered it had been before you'd even started—whatever this was.

“May I?” You could melt at the slight widening of his eyes into a pleading gaze, his hands rubbing against your hip. “I want to feel you here. I want to love you there, too.”

There was a moment of pause between you both, then.

You took a while to catch your breath, before you were lifting your hips, allowing him to pull down your garments, and he smiled.

“That's my girl.”

You had to close your eyes, the back of your hand moving over your mouth as you waited. It was slow, the way he undressed you. It was as if your body had his gaze completely enraptured, his movements agonizing, his eyes locked onto the trail of slick that snaps as he pulled off your underwear. Your cunt was flush and needy for attention, clit throbbing, wetness leaking onto the couch—you nearly had to close your legs when you saw the smirk that formed on his lips, but he was quicker. His hands moved to spread you apart and keep you in place, and then you were sitting up against the couch, legs hooked over his shoulders.

And he'd reached up to take your hands in his. Your fingers laced through together, a reassuring, loving squeeze—and there it was.

The first lick had you clenching your jaw, drawing in a sharp breath. One long stripe from your hole up to your clit, and your body jolted; his hands gave yours another squeeze.

“Shh, shh, relax, princess,” he mumbled—you nearly shut your eyes at the way he looked, your juices coating his tongue, the way he licked his lips as if to prove a point. “Look at me, pretty, okay? Breathe for me.”

His tongue darted out again, the contact against your folds having you gripping his hand tightly.

“Sh-shit—” you cursed, his tongue swirling a circle over your clit, slowly, slowly.

He would tease, still: dragging his tongue in a slow, light pattern, never quite touching your nub, only barely dipping into your hole. His eyes raised to look at you—you could tell he was enjoying himself, and you couldn't help but let out a whimper.

“S'it feel good?” he mumbled, the vibrations against you sending tingles up your spine. “You like that, pretty?”

“R-really good, ‘Miah, please—”

He smiled, placing soft kisses around your clit before finally, finally taking it into your mouth.

You gasped, your back arching, nails digging into his palms, his thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. You felt his praise in his movements, the way he sucked on your clit, the way he'd roll his tongue over you, between your folds, taking in every inch of your wetness that he possibly could… He let go of your hands, then, grabbing hold of your thighs, pulling you towards him. Your toes curled, his tongue prodding your entrance—

And then it slipped in.

“'M-’Miah!” you cried out, throwing your head back with the shiver of pleasure that coursed through your veins. “Pl-plea— please, nnh—”

You could bite your lip to maintain a volume less embarrassing for the both of you, but he was unrelenting. His hands gripped at the plush of your thigh before they snaked inwards, thumb attaching to your clit. His tongue swirled inside of you, and every roll of his thumb brought on a jolt of your hips—Cries of his name fell from your mouth; a chant, nearly beyond your control, the way your body would writhe and buck from his ministrations.

“M-Mmh!” you moaned; “J- Jeremiah! ‘Miah, ‘Miah—don't stop, pleas—right th-there, don't—nnh—!”

You felt the corners of his mouth twitch up unto a smile, and that was it for you.

Your muscles clenched, your thighs tensing around his head, hips lifting, mouth falling open in a silent moan.

He'd smile as you cum, lapping up your juices, each languid lick encouraging the twitch of you pussy, riding out your high.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

He let you go only to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. You could blush at the mere sight of him—lips red and swollen, slick dribbling down his chin, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips, taking in remnants of your juices.

“Jeremiah, you…”

You covered your face with your hands, feeling the embarrassment settle, but he only chuckled.

“I love you when you cum, too,” he whispered. His voice was close to your ear, and he placed a kiss against it—you let out a squeal, peeking out from behind your fingers before he pried them away from you. “You're beautiful, milady,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, “so pretty when you cum, so pretty for me. You'd be pretty with me inside you, too…”

You watched him delight in the way your face would redden, the way you feebly pushed at his chest as if to get him off of you.

But he laughed.

In his gaze, again, he held that same loving stare, eyes full of an adoration you could never match yourself—not when he looked at you like that.

“Only if you want to, of course,” he smiled, gently tucking an awry lock of hair behind your ear. “Seriously. I really, really love you… And I’d want ro do this with you. If you’re comfortable with it, if you'd let me… I want to love you like this, too.”

And there was so much love.

His eyes, a deep, deep brown you could get lost in any day, were reassuring. Calm, despite all that had gone on just moments ago. You felt… safe.

Safer than you've ever felt.

His touch was a warmth you welcomed, a gentleness so comforting, like the onset of spring. Like the sprouting of blossoms, like the gleam of the sky… Like—home. A pile of leaves you would gladly jump into.

You felt tears prick at your eyes again, your hands reaching out to tug on his sleeve—

“Want you, ‘Miah,” you whimpered. You'd plead and hold him close, wanting to feel him, to see him.

You could do this, you thought.

If it was with him, then—you could shard through any rose bush, weave through any forest. The bushes didn't block out the light anymore. It was different from diving in headfirst without much of a warning, when all he'd ever shown you was to be… Loved.

Thorns, and everything, and—

Maybe the challenges ahead didn't seem so… scary anymore.

Within moments he had you carried in his arms onto your bed, clothes discarded into a pile on the floor right there with yours. Your hair was in disarray as your head fell back against the pillows, linen sheets and the mattress plush against your body.

“I love you.”

He brought your hand to his lips, a manner of adoration, his eyes soft against the haze of the moonlight that shone through.

“I love you,” again.

Like he knew it was something you needed desperately to hear, like he was telling you he'd say it—again and again, as many times as you needed him to.

And you smiled.

Because this time, you say it back.

“I love you, Jeremiah.”

And his lips were back on yours, plush and soft like you've always known them to be, his hands trailing over your body. You were warm, still—so sensitive with the way you jolted and shivered against the pads of his fingers, the aftereffects of your earlier orgasm still reeling.

Then he pushed your legs apart and rest between them, rubbing against your entrance—your hands are held gently beside your head, fingers intertwined.

His lips never left yours.

He remained soft, and tender, molding his lips into yours when he entered. The initial thrust was slow and gentle; your moans swallowed into his kisses.

And everything—the way he filled you up, every ridge of his cock rubbing so sweetly against your walls; the way he kissed you, so loving; the way his hands had yours pressed into the mattress, a safety in the warmth of his fingers laced with yours—everything was perfect.

This was perfect.

Your shadows danced against the wall as he moved, starlight and gleam of the evening before you painting a scene so intimate—so… real.

The roll of his hips against yours brought you back into that lull of his name, his head buried into your neck. His breath was shaky against your skin—deep, breathy groans, the very sound of them shooting straight to your core, and you held each other tightly. Closer than close. As close as you could be; as close as you always wanted to be. The scent of your arousal remained heedy in the air as he claimed you, his strokes slow and deep, the steady rhythm enough to have your eyes rolling back into your head.

“H-hnngh, feels… Feels so good,” you whispered, clawing against his back, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him.

“Mhm? It does, huh?”

He'd plant kisses over your neck, dizzying whispers of sweet nothings into your ear.

“You're so pretty f'me, my lady,” he rasped. “So good around me… Taking me so well, haaahh, god—mmh, fuck—”

Hushed, muffled moans into kisses, into your skin, echoed with the soft, slow, pap, pap, pap, of his hips against yours.

And you felt it build.

“M'gonna cum,” you whined, and your hands found themselves buried into his hair, his head sneaking down to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Mmmhh. Go 'head, milady. Cum for me.”

With a final, deep breath, you shattered under his touch, crying out in ecstasy as your body convulsed around him. It was then that Jeremiah released you with a little wet pop, panting above you, his own thrusts becoming more sporadic.

He felt the way you clenched over him, the groan falling from his lips a melody that made your head spin.

“‘Miah,” you murmured, dizzy. “‘Miah, c'mon, c'mon…”

A word from you had him collapsing into your body, holding you tight, stilling as he spilled into you. You felt the pulse of his cock, hot liquid filling you to the brim, the scent of sweat and slick lingering in the air.

“I love you,” he mumbled again. It was something like a whine this time, a little less controlled, a little more… vulnerable.

Just as you had been.

You stroked his hair, falling back into a rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, breathing in time with the beat of your heart.

Your eyes closed, for a moment.

“Can I hold you?” you whispered. “Let's just… stay like this, for a while.”

“Mhm.”

“We can… get dinner later…”

“Mhm...”

You smiled.

“‘Miah?”

“...Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess. Always.”

an : a lot of a more personal piece, hence the insane amounts of self-indulgence laced into this fic <3 took me forever to decide which of my lnds cast i wanted to use for this, but eventually settled on jem based on the pure fact that he is the most realistically my type (zayne being ideal, xavier being fictional) LMAO <3 may has been a hard month (it tends to be) and i wanted to get this out as june starts, so !! happy june, everyone~~~

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love & deepspace smut #love and deepspace smut #l&ds smut #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace jeremiah #love & deepspace x reader #love & deepspace jeremiah #jeremiah smut #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah x you #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #✿˖°. roxiefic #divider by cafekitsune

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kentopedia · 3 days

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it's been decades since you've last seen dazai; your lover & your maker. now that you're finally happy, he's haunting you again with a thousand buried memories.

overall contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, exes to lover, gothic romance, blood drinking, vampire!reader, vampire!dazai, smut, cheating reader, complicated relationships, blood, gore, jealousy, manipulation, religious symbolism, betrayal, reunions — 5.7k words

PART VI ♰ MASTERLIST

With your sullen mood resurfacing, a hazy dreariness fell upon your apartment in the week following Dazai’s departure. While you were happy to sulk, bury your nose in distractions and the taste of human blood, Atsushi was determined not to let you. With all the goodness in his heart, he picked you back up, put you on your feet, and stitched up the rift that was slowly growing between you.

Although he was a human, and he did not have the wisdom backed by decades of living, he was a detective. A rather good one, at that. It was easy for him to spot the shifts in your moods, as subtle as they were.

Atsushi never pried, never forced you to open up and spill all the details of what was bothering you. It was just one trait that differed from Dazai, who was always forcing your tongue, even with his own pockets full of secrets.

For the week, Atsushi gave you space. He stayed at Ranpo’s as promised, and let you mope and drown in your own despondency. But when Saturday evening came, he had grown weary of the tension and stilted conversations that soured between the two of you. It was obvious from the way he continued to bring up the conversation, even as desperately as you tried to quell it.

Under your intense gaze, Atsushi uncomfortably sipped as his water, mustering up a smile. Although you normally sat beside him as he ate, with your own plate empty before you, it felt strange, this time. Something in the air between you had shifted, as he twisted in the chair, eyes flitting away before meeting your own hesitantly.

“Will you be staring at me for the entire night?” Atsushi asked, his tone playful, but only to disguise his genuine concern.

A frown marred your face, and you blinked, realizing just how intently you’d been observing his every move. Like a hawk to its prey — a questionable comparison, to say the least.

“Sorry,” you said gently, looking back down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to.”

His eyes softened, but he said nothing, jaw working tightly as he chewed the tough meat. Despite his polite mannerisms, the action still grated at you, his teeth dragging against the other quickly becoming an irritation. Especially as the action of him swallowing the thick lumps of meat drew your attention to his pale throat, something of a beacon, shrouded in candlelight.

Atsushi saw you watching once again, and sighed. Although it was the first night that you had shared since he’d been away, he didn’t feel any closer, the space between you even colder than before.

He knew how you hungered now, even if it had been similar to those years before him, when you’d hunted into the evenings with Dazai. Your bloodlust was uncontrollable and erratic, and though you’d never wanted Atsushi’s blood before, you craved it now. The sweet dessert that was coiled under his skin, paired with love and desire, tied up in a warm human vessel.

Atsushi rubbed his eyes and set the utensils down. “No. I’m sorry. I know you wanted some space, but I should have made more of an effort… Before now. I should have—” Atsushi worried his lip, frustrated with himself for inconceivable reasons.

You didn’t know how to tell him that none of this was his fault.

That thought led you back to that evening, just a few years ago, when you’d first seen him. How alluring he’d been, sitting with his mismatched friends, head tilted back in laughter. His voice may have been hushed, drowned out by the loud personalities of the others, but it was so precious to you. Back then, he’d been quiet, without much of the confidence that he had now.

His self-discovery had very little to do with you, you knew that. But you’d loved him with all the intensity of an immortal being, and that surely counted for something.

“It’s okay,” you stopped him, leaning over the table, wanting to reach for him. “I’m the one who can’t control my hunger. I’m a pathetic excuse for a human and a vampire.”

You didn’t say that last part.

His face twisted at that. Something clicked, in a few breaths, as the reality of your words, your lust for blood, finally sunk it. It had always just been the thing between you. Atsushi had seen you drink from animals, had even helped you get them. Never, though, had it been him you were desiring, his blood that created such a constant state of anguish.

“I know that it’s not…” He paused, thinking of a word to accurately describe his thoughts. “Conventional. It’s probably not even feasible for us to carry on this way. But I don’t want—” Atsushi’s jaw clenched, and his eyes drifted away from your darkened gaze to the floor. “I love you. I love you very much, and I may be a detective, opposed to violence, but I’m willing to do what it takes to stay together.”

The words should’ve calmed you, sparked a sense of peace through your veins, but they caused your heart to sink instead. You didn’t want him to be familiar with your craving for blood.

Instead, it seemed he only became more comfortable with the idea of it as time went on.

“Atsushi…” you began. With the way you said his name, close to a scolding, you’d expected him to deflate.

But he remained stoic, his eyes never faltering with dishonesty. “I’m serious, honey,” he said, and then, he did reach for you, squeezing your cold hands against the table, fingers warming you almost as easily as the blood in his veins could. “I know how you feel about turning me, but I want to be with you.” The gentle smile swept back on his face, lighting it up swiftly, as it erased the sharpness of his previous expression. “We’ll just take things at your pace, okay?”

The hold of guilt crept back up on you as you stole your own hand back from him. How kind he was, to offer you that, when it was him that was most deserving of it. “Atsushi, you must know I’m not a good person. You must know, by now.”

“You are to me. You’re the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Was it enough?

If you were being truthful, with yourself and your fiancé, you’d grown uncertain.

There was an abundance of love in your heart for Atsushi, but he shared the darkest parts of it with another. It felt wrong, to lead him into another life, on the promise that you’d be his eternal, faithful companion.

You hadn’t even been able to do that in his mortal life.

Instead of letting the truth spill out, you nodded, slowly.

An exhale of relief left Atsushi, as he leaned back into his chair, more at ease than he’d been all week. “Okay. Okay, then that’s enough for me.”

He finished eating, the tension between you still there, but diminishing. Atsushi seemed appeased, and finished the meal by chattering on about his day, his mood elevated.

Then, as he took the last bite of his dinner, he seemed struck with an idea. “We should go out tonight,” he said, nodding to himself, already excited by the prospect. “We haven’t gone drinking in months.”

You tossed him a skeptical look, but smiled, shaking your head at his excitement. Despite his laid-back, often timid nature, he could be quite stubborn when he set his mind to something. Especially if that idea — in his mind, at least — was something that could help another.

He appeared especially convinced that a night out in the city would be enough to cure your woes.

“You know I can’t get drunk,” you laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And alcohol tastes quite bland, as a vampire.”

Atsushi ignored all your arguments, and came around the table, pulling you out of your seat. He laid a long, feverish kiss on your lips, one that stunned you into silence.

“Who said you needed to get drunk? Someone has to be sober, to help get the other home.”

“Ah,” you said, recovering from the fits of passion that he had seemed possessed by. Kissing him across his forehead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and responded playfully. “I see. This is a ploy to get drunk and then blame it on me?”

He shrugged, leaning into you, with a childish expression. Lines creased along the corners of his eyes, on his forehead, reminding you that he was still beautifully human. And while he was only a year older than you’d been when you had turned, he still held the evidence of the happiness, the sorrows, that he’d beheld as a human.

You, as a vampire, had been smoothed over, lines scraped into a perfect marble, not a blemish or wrinkle on your face. Save for the scars that had been permanently etched onto your skin, you were nothing short of perfection.

It made you ache, sometimes, to know that you would never appear so human. You would never get to see yourself age with grace.

A blessing and a curse, you supposed, as Atsushi pulled you from the table, kissing across your face with a profound smile. You would not get to grow old with the man you loved, but you could spend countless years with him, never wondering if he’d get sick without warning, if his heart would stop beating while he slept.

Sometimes, you got so caught up in the misery of being a vampire, an immortal, that you forgot there was a sublime beauty to it, as well.

Atsushi took you to his favorite pub, on the other side of town, near the detective agency that he worked at. It was a spot they all frequented after long cases. A respectable cafe by the morning, and a place for the scoundrels of the earth to settle at night.

Saturdays were always busy, but this night seemed even more so, as you shoved your way into through the swinging, wooden doors, pressing shoulder to shoulder against those in front of you. An overwhelming stench of body odor assaulted your senses, rank and thick as it flooded your nostrils. Under it all, though, with each body stacked against the next, there was the flowery, sweet smell of blood.

You gripped Atsushi’s hand tightly to resist it.

The chatter was endless. With your hearing — so much better than any of those around you — you were subjected to half a hundred different conversations, the changes in pitch and tempo like nails to your temple.

It was difficult to focus, your attention tugged in a thousand different directions. That was, until Atsushi turned around and smiled, that brilliantly beautiful grin akin to the light of a thousand suns.

Your mouth parted; you’d almost forgotten how pretty he was.

“This okay?” he asked, hesitant at the tension that grazed your features. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so busy, but if you want to leave—”

You stopped him, tugging him to your side by the lapels of his shirt. Standing taller, you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, fingers twisting into his hair, longer on one side. “I don’t mind.”

A small little sound left the back of his throat, and his lips curled against your own, as he tugged you to a table. There was a crowd of young men lingering by the bar, and as Atsushi pushed his way past with you in tow, they all stopped their conversation to watch, eyes following your every moment.

In another life, that would have been your dinner. You would have leaned over the counter, beckoned them with a sultry grin, and taken them home, where Dazai would praise you on another successful hunt.

You buried the memory, squeezing Atsushi’s hand tighter, and refused to think of ghosts. Especially of those that were still alive.

The tabletop he decided upon was sticky, but it was one of the only remaining empty ones. A film of wetness had been streaked across it, dripping off the edges of the table. As a contrast to the darkness, a candle burned bright in the center of the table, wax dripping off in thick rivulets.

Atsushi pulled out a chair for you, dramatically gesturing towards the seat. “If you would, miss,” he said, a shy sort of humor resting at the edge of his gaze.

“Thank you, kind sir.” You took the seat, indulging him, and removed your gloves to fold onto your lap.

There was no reason for any attempts at being a proper lady, not in this sort of environment. It wasn’t nearly as seedy as the place you had been meeting Dazai, but there were still corners with secret rendezvous, hushed whispers between business partners over smoky cigarettes.

“Would you still like a drink?” Atsushi asked, brushing his thumb across your eyebrow. “I know, it’s really only to keep up appearances, but if you’d like one…”

He seemed so hopeful, eyes glimmering with a reignited thrill. It’d been a long time since either of you had truly committed to an evening out, and even longer since you’d stopped here, where you knew his friends and co-workers often were.

The taste of alcohol, without being tinged by the sweetness of blood, was quite awful. Still, you accepted. “Of course, honey. I can still enjoy the simple luxury of a little drink.”

You smiled and tilted your head, though you weren’t sure he caught the true meaning of your words.

Atsushi left, heading over to the bar, where a red-headed woman and an older man were working furiously, filling cups as quickly as they were handed them.

The alcohol spilled freely, splashing onto people’s shirts as they skirted around one another, the dark liquid quickly becoming large puddles on the floor. No one seemed any the wiser.

It made you long for that feeling as a human, when it took just a few sips to get a buzz swirling through your veins. You’d never been good at holding your liquor. That remained true as a vampire, but you couldn’t drain an unsuspecting stranger right outside, when your beloved fiancee was so hopeful of mending the growing cracks in your engagement.

Atsushi’s conversation did seem to go on with the red-haired woman, who spoke to him in a way that was something between cruel and affectionate. Atsushi only laughed, amused by her dark glare as she pushed two drinks towards him, moving onto the next customer.

It wasn’t surprising that they knew each other, seemed quite familiar with one another, with as much as Atsushi claimed to come here. Still, there was a feeling that burned under your skin, one that you knew far too well, and hated nonetheless.

You looked away, hoping that Atsushi wouldn’t see the jealousy in your eyes. That was the last emotion that you were deserving of.

Especially because if you told him the truth, if you even suspected the pretty bartender fancied him, he would only smile, laugh at you with a tint of pink on his cheeks. Atsushi would never look at anyone with longing when he had you. He was loyal, kind and loving, and you believed him when he promised that.

You, on the other hand, were a piece of shit. To put it simply. The same courteousy of loyalty couldn’t be offered to him — you’d already made sure of that.

Although, when you thought about it deeper, watched her glance back at Atsushi as he came over to you, you realized that it wasn’t his affection you were envious of.

She simply had something, the one thing, that you didn’t.

Every woman that crossed Atsushi’s path would never have his love, not with you still in his life, but they could offer him a shot at a normal human existence. They could give him what he deserved: a happy marriage without bloodshed, children if he so desired them.

They wouldn’t lie to his face about their past, their present, and perhaps even the future that they were already weaving together.

Humanity was the only thing you had to be envious of. And even though you felt guilty for taking that away from Atsushi, there was also the hint of satisfaction, knowing that no one else would be able to offer him what you could.

Atsushi handed the drink to you, and you took it with ease, letting your fingers curl around the cup, nails clicking against the handle. Already, Atsushi had taken long sips of his, the liquid dripping, soaking his mouth, almost obscenely. He wiped his hand across his face, letting it wet the back of his palm as well, all while you watched on with amusement.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” you asked, cracking a smile as he leaned back in the chair, raising his glass when someone in the bar burst out into some sort of chant. You’d never heard it before, but Atsushi hummed under his breath, a faraway look in his eyes as he leaned into you.

“I am,” he said, kissing your temple, before taking another long sip of his drink. “I’ve been so stressed about the case, that I’d forgotten…” Atsushi trailed off, gaze dropped to his half-empty cup before sighing. “Well, I suppose I’ve been forgetting how to live. But, that doesn’t mean much, when we’ll have eternity, does it?”

Resigned sadness soaked his words as he squeezed your shoulder, and it permeated your short-lived glee. “Atsushi—” you began, shaking your head. “No. You should live every moment like its your last. Especially when you are immortal.”

His eyebrows pinched, forming a wrinkle between them as he tilted his head towards you. Perhaps, it didn’t make sense to him yet, but it would soon. Atsushi had no idea how difficult having centuries ahead of you could be, how intimidating to realize. He hadn’t seen vampires go mad because of it, throw themselves onto a stake or into the fire because they couldn’t comprehend that sense of time. He hadn’t seen vampires fall so easily to their emotions, because they had been unstable as a human, and that had never faired well without an ending in sight. Some didn’t take well to the blood-drinking, either, and it made them sick, for their minds were too fragile to hold on.

There were endless reasons not to be a vampire, and you weren’t sure he fully understood that.

“I don’t understand—” your beloved began, but he didn’t get far, as an unfamiliar presence approached, taking his place at the empty seat of the table.

“Atsushi,” he said, leaning towards both of you, an elated grin on his face. “Long time, no see. How have you been?”

You jerked your head towards the third voice, just as Atsushi did, the two of you wearing matching, irritated expressions. It was a man you didn’t recognize, with dark, auburn hair, and a self-satisfied grin. He was on the verge of being drunk, almost stringing his words together, sharp eyes glazed over with intoxication.

“Tachihara,” Atsushi said, face falling. The smile he wore was so evidently fake, it was probably for the best that the man wasn’t sober. “What are you doing here?”

There were very few people that Atsushi disliked, very few that he utterly refused to get along with. So it came as a surprise, when his expression coiled up with tension, his words spoken through gritted teeth and harsh lines.

That was, until you realized what the man in front of you was. “Oh, it’s been years since I’ve been around, and that’s how you greet an old friend?” He sounded hurt, at first, before he laughed loudly, his faux annoyance giving way to amusement. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. I interrupted you and and this beautiful lady. What is your name, by the way?” Tachihara turned to you, grinning lazily, his dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, naturally flirtatious.

You met his gaze head-on, sitting stiffly in your chair as you smiled, refusing to reach out your hand and shake his. Out of fear that he would feel your cold skin, see the fangs that weren’t even elongated, or sense that your beauty wasn’t quite natural. “I’m Atsushi’s fiancee.”

Briefly, you reached out the soft caress of compulsion, attempting to weave into his mind, curl your own touch around his memories. But as you lingered there, you were met with a hard block, a gated entry, without a lock or key.

Your gaze dropped down to his cloak, made of burgundy velvet, stitched with the cross of the vampire hunters over his heart. Then, your eyes drifted over to the golden medallion that hung around his neck.

Shit.

Outside of your own kind, there was very little that you knew about magic, or beings that existed apart from mortals. Dazai had let you in on very little, in a promise that ignorance was safer than knowledge.

What you did know, was that people had been aware of vampires for centuries. You’d been the greatest evil to face humans, for a time, and while your existence faded into legend, and humans did not fear as they once had, there were still precautions. Some were merely rumors; promises that crucifixes and holy symbols would repel you, but didn’t.

Some were old magic, like the medallion given only to specific ranks of vampire hunters. Most were centuries old and were, to your knowledge, the only thing that could stop an immortal from controlling the minds of mankind.

For a moment, you scrambled, knowing that even if there was a way for you to break past the barriers, infiltrate his conscious, you weren’t a strong enough vampire to do that. Perhaps if you were someone like Dazai, who had been alive for nearly three of your lifetimes, but you were something close to a child compared with those that beheld your same gifts.

You resigned your name to the vampire hunter, hoping that he hadn’t caught the biting tinge of fear at the end of your sentence. Although, it wasn’t your life that you were worried about — vampire hunters were a nuisance, sure, but they were still painfully human. Ones that you could kill.

Atsushi, on the other hand, could not. Even if you were innocent in the murders that they were investigating, if they found out that Atsushi had been harboring, loving, a vampire for two years, they would certainly execute him on the spot.

You refused to let it come to that.

“So, what brings you back here, then?” you asked, closing your hands together on your lap. “If it’s been so long without seeing Atsushi?” With a smile, you laid on the charm, remembering all the practice you’d had through the years, all the men you’d brought to their deaths. Tachihara may have been a sharp hunter with concerning strength for a mortal, but he was still a man.

He seemed happy to indulge you with flirtations, smiling as he drank another beer and supplied you with all the details of his mission. “My boss sent us over here to help out with the murders happening in this city. They’re certain its a vampire — perhaps a coven, with the frequency.”

“You’re not convinced?”

Tachihara shrugged. “Vampires are usually more methodical. Or less obvious. Depends on their age, though.” He seemed to come to himself, blinking, as he glanced between you and Atsushi. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this. Not fit for a lady, and all.”

“It’s fine,” Atsushi said, even more tense then you were, his back straight like a rod, as he squeezed your hand under the table. “I’ve already told her everything. She’s real smart, helps me out on cases, sometimes.” He swallowed, and though his words were confident, his eyes were not — which worried you. As much as you loved him, adored him, he was a horrendous liar.

That, of all things, would be what got you into trouble.

“I see,” Tachihara replied, intrigued. “Well, what do you think, then? I’d hate to be wasting my time here.”

While you’d wanted at the very least, a moment to think, Atsushi was already spilling out his thoughts, mouth running faster than a race horse. “I wouldn’t be too quick to pin this on the bloodsuckers,” he said, shaking his head voraciously. “I’ve seen murderers with less reason than this, and they is very little evidence to point to it being a vampire, to begin with.” He took a breath, before continuing, quickly averting his eyes away from Tachihara’s scrutinizing gaze. “Only a few bodies were found drained of blood, and many had been mutilated in a very grotesque fashion. Anyone could have done so, couldn’t they?”

Tachihara’s lips pursed. “I’m not sure—”

“Besides,” Atsushi went on, completing ignoring the fact that his friend had interjected at all. “The killings have stopped. Whoever it was moved on.” A heavy breath left him, at that, the final notice, to convince himself as much as the man who listened on with curiosity.

“Oh no,” Tachihara said, shaking his head as he snapped to attention. “Didn’t you see? They found another body this morning.”

Atsushi paled, the color draining from his face as he slid his eyes across the table from Tachihara.

Well. You’d consider that a ridiculously stupid miscalculation on your part.

“I—” he said, shaking his head, suddenly startled. “Wow. I didn’t know about that.”

“Hmm.” Tachihara licked his lips, taking the last drops of alcohol from his skin with it. “Slacking on the job, are we?”

Although it was said as a joke, a slight jab between friends, there was also a hint of criticism there.

Atsushi had stiffened in his chair, a mix of mortification and uncertainty replacing all other emotions. Those were written out, as plain as day, on his features. There was no room for lying.

You held your breath, choking on the sound, as you waited for Atsushi’s reaction. His pupils had blown wide, the purple in his irises so deep they were the color of royalty, drowning out the brightness of the golden flecks. He swallowed, jaw clenching tightly as his sights settled on the woman at the bar, before he dragged them right back to Tachihara.

“I must confess,” he said, with alarming calmness, one that made your hair stand on end. “I’ve had to take many breaks from the case. It’s…” he sighed, shaking his head, genuinely put out by his own ability to stomach the murders. “It’s done a number on my head. They’ve already removed me once from it, shipped me out of the city, for a while.”

The amusement on Tachihara’s face dissipated, the smile lines smoothing as his grin dropped swiftly. “Oh,” he said, leaning forward, no longer slouching casually in his chair. “I’m sorry, Atsushi. I don’t blame you for needing a break.”

“I shouldn’t,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s my job, and I feel horrible for needing to take time away for my own sanity, while people are losing their lives.”

Tachihara nodded, coating his lips with saliva once more. “I understand. But, remember you aren’t alone in this. There are other people working on the case, and the weight of the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders.” He reached over the table, nearly spilling Atsushi’s drink in the process, to squeeze his arm, supportive. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night out. I should’ve saved the work talk for next week.”

“It’s okay,” Atsushi smiled, tight-lipped. He shrugged off Tachihara’s larger hand, his deep tan skin punctuated by harsh white scars. “I would be curious too, if I were in your position. But, I’m glad you’re here to help, vampire or not.”

Your fiancé glanced over to you, chest rising and falling with the complex emotions weaving under his skin. “Right, angel?”

How you hated when he called you that.

He’d only picked it up recently — since Dazai had found you once again. Atsushi never could’ve known how deeply the term irritated you, how complex the memories that came with it were. Yet, he whispered it with such endearment, such adoration, breathing it on a simple exhale, that you couldn’t urge him away from it.

You smiled, words coming through sharply gritted teeth. “The faster this all ends, the better.”

It should’ve ended already, with Dazai gone. Why they had only now sent vampire hunters was beyond you.

When you returned home, the last thing on your mind was sleep.

Atsushi slammed the door behind him, a sound that caused you to jump. He was not an angry man, and so rarely let it show, or take it out on you. But, he began pacing the room with fury, his eyes ablaze as he considered the room like it disgusted him.

“Fuck,” he said, weaving his hand through his silver locks, gripping them tightly. “I’m sorry. I knew they would come eventually, but I didn’t think—” His eyes squeezed together tightly, no longer showing the deep galaxy within them. “I didn’t think it would be so soon. How foolish of me.”

“I’m the fool. I’ve seen this a thousand times before, and still believed that everything would be fine,” you said, trying to calm him down, as his soles burned holes into the floor of your home. The final murder would be your little secret, but you should’ve known that the vampire hunters would show eventually. Dazai had strategically held them off, but he’d grown sloppy, in his quest to capture your attention. “But we can’t keep this farce up with hunters around, Atsushi. They’ll catch on soon.”

“How do you know that?” He met your gaze, pained.

You smiled gently, as you eased your hands away from his hair. “The murderer may not be a vampire, but I certainly am. This is what they do, honey. They hunt my kind for a living. They’re skilled, and if they find out you’re defending me…” you trailed off, the words speaking for themselves. “That’s why I think I need to leave. At least, for a while.”

“No,” Atsushi snapped, his voice breaking at the end of the word. “No. We’ve been apart for so long. We can figure out another way. I don’t want to keep getting separated.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think we can, this time. It’s too dangerous.”

“I can keep you safe. It won’t come to that, I won’t let you get hurt.”

“They’re stronger than you, and they’re not going to let friendships stand in the way of justice. If we aren’t smart about this, then we’ll get ourselves killed.”

“It shouldn’t be like this,” he said, eyeing you, his voice hard. “You’re one of the good ones. It’s not like you’re the one killing people. Right?”

You knitted your eyebrows together, swallowing. “Of course not,” you said, hoping that it sounding more convincing to his ears than it did your own. You might as well have been driving the knives into everyone’s backs. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I just wonder if you’re certain you don’t know anything about this. You know your kind better than anyone, better than the hunters, even. Are you sure this isn’t a vampire?”

“I promised you, didn’t I?” Your voice came out hard, indignant. “What? Do you not trust me anymore?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Atsushi snapped.

A moment of silence came after.

Although you were certain no bitter emotions had taken over your features, something in his face changed as you leaned back and recoiled, drawing away from him.

Then Atsushi exhaled, all malice draining out of him as he deflated. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t do it, and I know you wouldn’t lie to me. I just wanted to ask again. Make sure. Nothing about this case makes sense to me.”

“Right. Of course,” you replied. Your voice was chalky. “Well, it’s not a vampire. Even if it was, there isn’t anything I can do.” There was. “Vampires are inherently independent creatures.” Sometimes. “Whoever it was — is, wouldn’t stop killing, just because I asked them to. They’d probably see my socializing with humans, trying to hold onto my humanity, as a weakness.” That part, was honest, at least.

Atsushi deflated. “I didn’t mean to get upset with you.”

“It’s alright. It’s reasonable to be.”

He nodded; you were both unconvinced, though by which words, it was hard to tell.

“I think I should leave, Atsushi. Tomorrow. We’ll say I received word that a family of mine is sick, and I need to go take care of them. It’s reasonable enough.”

“Of course. Of course.” He reached out to you, then, taking you in his arms in the cold room, fingers snaking around your back before pulling you into his chest. “I trust you. When it comes to this world, you know best. I’m willing to do what needs to be done to keep us both safe.”

You whispered a response, letting your head fall to his collarbone as you inhaled, the alcohol and smoke from the evening a thick cloak on Atsushi’s skin. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I wish I could stay here, and we wouldn’t have to worry about the hunters busting through the door unannounced. I wish things were different.”

The two of you knew what you were really trying to say. Things with Atsushi would be so much easier if you were human.

“I wouldn’t change anything,” Atsushi said, kissing your forehead, even if you felt like it was a lie. If you were offered a way out of immortality tomorrow, he’d be elated for you to take it. “I love you just the way you are.”

You smiled, placatingly. “I love you too, Atsushi.”

He held you, for a few minutes, the two of you beginning to feel the warmth of the sun rising in the horizon at your backs. It wouldn’t be long now — you’d be off to bed, and Atsushi would be off to work without a moment’s rest. Then, you’d be apart again. Again and again and again.

It seemed like fate was trying to tell you something; you’d continue to ignore her whispers in your ear.

“Where will you go?” Atsushi finally asked, leading you back into your room, so dark and empty, like a lived-in tomb.

You took his hand instead, squeezed it tight, and exhaled. “Home.”

PART VII

thank you so much for reading!! pls ignore any spelling errors & i hope my characterization of tachihara was okay :,) reblogs are always appreciated !!

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