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dilfomaniac · 2 months

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❝𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙈𝙞𝙡𝙠❝

leon kennedy x fem!reader ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

ft. Death Island Leon S. Kennedy

wc: 3.409

cw: ddlg, age gap, innocence kink, p in v, riding, creampie, praise kink, rough sex

note: This was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being a rushed fic ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა writer’s block has me in a chokehold lately, ignore parts that don’t make sense !! i’ll fix those tmrw cuz 3 in the mornin… ͟mdni 18+

The silence in the room is steep, the lack of light even more than so. Wind knocks itself against the window, every tremor making you feel like its aim is to break in. Your heart is racing, your eyes wide and on the lookout for the source of your alarm. Of course, there’s none, but you haven’t really grown out of childish habits. You’ve heard stories after stories about houses being haunted, ghosts residing in each and every corner waiting to pounce on defenseless girls like you, and it’s been stuck to you ever since. Stored inside your head as a core reminder that something’s creeping in the dark.

You’re the ripe age of nineteen, there’s no particular reason for you to believe this still. Fear of the dark should’ve been abandoned when you were twelve - when the failing of classes and smothering glare of teachers vanquished the rest of the worries. At this point, it’s just laughable. Even your stuffed animals are starting to look awfully odd. You look past one shoulder, past the other, detect no strange entities and wash down the dryness in your throat. You’re curled up in a ball, snug like a puppy, hoping to fall asleep like one when something welts your window. Your head snaps towards the sound and you see something flit behind the windowpane, flashing its ominous identity to you. The child inside you screams - you’re quick to comply with it, tossing the blanket off yourself and scampering out of your bedroom like an overgrown puppy.

You scurry your way downstairs, hand on the railing gathering dust on your fingertips. There’s better lighting here, because Daddy’s fallen asleep with the TV on, snoring to the mumbles of another sitcom you told him about, as if he genuinely watches those. You lower the volume until it’s mute, not daring to turn the TV off because it’s the only source that illuminates the room enough - save for the crescent shimmering moon which didn’t do you much help back in your bedroom. Making your way towards the sofa you observe Leon who's sleeping like a top - head over the back of the couch and mouth tipping agape. You fail to stifle a giggle, but this is no laughing matter, mind you. He promised you, oh, he promised you so many times he’d come and join you in the bed eventually, but he didn’t. “Okay, sweetheart. You go, and I’ll be there soon, yeah? Daddy has some things to finish,” No, Daddy just wants to make an empty promise and fall asleep on the couch. He always does, likes the feel of giving you a heavy heart. Your brows crinkle with lack of guilt when you go to nudge his shoulder. Leon’s a light sleeper, so his eyes burst open like a puppet, old geezer snoring cut short.

“Baby—” His chest rises in a beat, hand clutching your wrist reflexively. He takes a moment to shake the remaining sleep off, tossing his head back and clearing his throat to waken. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

The audacity he has to say that, when you were supposed to be asleep with him, not without him. Ghosts don’t come up to scratch when Daddy’s with you, because you know he’s stronger and that they’ll be put off by his mere presence. “You didn’t go to bed. You lied to me,” the accusation comes down as you sink your nails into his forearm, small flecks of red imprinting onto his skin. “You promised me.”

“Yeah. Yeah— Daddy knows,” His brows furrow. Your antics extort a rumbly groan from his throat, but it isn’t until he glares at you that you let go of him sheepishly. It’s just that you can’t help it while you’re like this. Leon is your only safe zone, but he’s so old he can’t even control when he sleeps. “Well, I thought you’d be a big girl and be asleep by the time I’m back. Guess not, huh?” He chuckles silvery and before you see it he’s propping you over his leg, letting you sit pliant like a marionette with your knees dipping in the gaps, entwining in his legs. You’re not easy to play like one, though - you opt to stay your ground by smacking him on the cheek to which he balefully clutches your wrist. “Don’t go throwin’ hands now.”

“You’re an A-hole.” You say bluntly. He blinks at you as if trying to say how insufferable you are in morse code. “Something— something was behind the window. I think it wanted to break in, and you weren’t here.” You say more like a protest than a distressed denunciation. Leon’s hands come to cradle you, from your back all the way to your scalp, holding you to himself like a baby who can’t support its head yet. He shakes his head, tongue in cheek, so sick of being woken up in the middle of the night because of things so mediocre, but all the more understanding of you. Because you’re his baby. His ray of sunshine. A pretty little thing who makes his day-to-day routines somewhat more endurable. “What, you scared of ghosts now?”

“I’m not!” You say crossly, God forbid your fragile little ego is hurt. “I’m not scared of ‘em, okay? I’m just saying, if someone were to break in, and you weren’t there, it’d be your fault.” It’d also be his fault if you had a nightmare and had no one to lull you back to sleep. Things like this aren’t easily forgivable, you want to tell him, but he already knows.

Leon takes in the scent of your pomade, fingers threading aimlessly through your hair. You can tell he’s not as worried as you are, but maybe that’s because he knows better and you’ll never know as much even if you conjoined the three remaining brain cells in your head. “Well, I promise you sweetheart, no scary monster s’gonna take you while I’m here,” then he bounces you on his knee and you feel your senses liquify. “You know you’re safe with me. You aren’t a dumb girl, are you?”

You shake your head, peeking at him between your lashes. You are a dumb girl but don’t entirely want to be one. It’s funny to see how all your worries dissipate once the honeyed lilt sinks in, putting you into an entirely different mental state. “I was scared,” you murmur. Leon only hushes you, bobbing his knee like consoling a toddler.

“I know, baby. I don’t blame you for it.” His stubble scrapes your cheek and then you’re dipping your face lower, nose brushing over a bared clavicle. Leon smells so good, so falsely evocative and citrusy and paternal. Like a daddy you’ve never had but always wanted, and it has you addicted. “Guess I have to make it up to little missy then, huh?” He stops to look you in the eye, his glare piercing and yet soothing and alluring all at once. Like he’s trying to read you by your expression alone, find out what goes on in that lil’ head of yours that can’t fit more than maybe a few social interactions per day.

You clutch the hem of his shirt and give him all the puppy eyes you’ve got, tilt your head and play dumb like he equally appreciates. “Uhm, yeah?” He cups your cheeks instantaneously, plants a slew of sloppy kisses across your forehead ‘cause cute aggression is real, and he’s more than likely to eat you up if your cheeks don’t deflate. “You owe me big time, idiot,” you pout, “ ‘Cause you never listen to me.”

You’re met with an eye roll and then Leon’s flipping you over so your positions are swapped, you now spread over the couch and him hovering above you. He holds both your hands in one hefty palm and pins them over your sternum, pushes down like he’s trying to submerge you into the cushions. You peep and fend off, even in your sleepy state because you know what comes after he’s fully overpowered you. You’ll scream bloody murder if he starts tickling you. However, to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he shores you up on the couch and slumps beside you with a soft grunt. “Think we can reserve playtime for tomorrow?” He says. After getting you riled up? No, but, matter-of-factly, it’s way past your bedtime. You bat your lashes solemnly, cast your gaze elsewhere. When you think about it, there will be no playtime, really. Because Leon’s always off on business trips - always on the go to fill his devoir while you’re at home rotting away in pink comforters and stroking yourself to sleep. It’s unfair - so, so unfair, how he makes you wait like a puppy, because you’re so entirely co-dependent on him. You fold your arms and clamber to the opposite side of the couch, avert your face to hide the crimson scattering your cheeks. Leon knows this change of air by rote, knows that his pretty princess is upset, and he knows by heart what your doleful puppy eyes look like, even if you try to hide them from him.

“I’m just kiddin’. I had something else in mind, actually,” he coos at you, one hand planting itself on your thigh and parting it from the other. “Daddy would never lie to you, yeah baby?” The wetness across your neck takes you by surprise when Leon seals the gap between you, making you want to shrug off.

“Tickles,” you mew, raising your hand to his face which he swiftly takes hold of and sets down. You don’t object, ‘cause while you may be bratty, Daddy’s wants will never go over your head. Heat uncoils inside your lower stomach and you start rubbing your thighs with need, stealing glances from Leon who’s nipping you with such fervor, you start doubting whether this takes less energy than your regular playtime.

“Thought you’d get away so easily, huh? Not a chance,” the metal clink of the belt has you transfixed when you’ve just started squirming, as you sit stockstill beside Leon. He looks at you with a grin - you sit there with panties soaked from one-sided kissing alone. There’s that tent on his lap, like he gets in the mornings. You try to wet your lips but clamp your tongue when he sucks a hickey onto a velvety patch of skin, tugging his briefs down until the forbidden part springs up and whacks him on the gut. Seeing it makes you shudder, snap your head away so fast as if a bare look will contaminate your innocence.

“Yeah, bunny? That so? Don’t like Mr. Horsey?” He exhales with a sneer - you try not to hyperventilate because of the amount of blood that gushes to your face then. You steal one small peek and turn away again, closing your eyes as if the thing will disappear on its own, making Leon chuckle heartily. “Well, I think Mr. Horsey likes you.”

You’re sure neither you nor Leon imagined your lives would ever lead to this moment. Leon for an entirely different reason, but you due the fact that you’ve been turned down by every partner who failed to break down the nature of this play. You never realized how much it meant to you, though, to be purely virgin. “Um,” you teeter more to the edge, eyes darting to all corners of the room, “I like him too— I don’t know.”

He takes it for granted, moving closer until you feel his breath waver. The glow of the TV strains your eyes, casting a fluorescent light which disguises your blush. Leon sets your hand on his crotch, hums contentedly when your palm lays smoothly on his shaft and your fingers grip. “Yeah,” he says. “He likes it when you play with him, baby.” His hand comes to rest on his side and he lets you take the lead, leaning back and exhaling in a way that screams he’s pent, and you better get stroking.

You palm him to the best effort, watching closely to see if what you’re doing with your hand is good enough. All the jerking off you’d done before was winged, and you never really put your mind to it. Leon gave you a chance to learn to actually please a man, and you can never wait to suck up all the praise you can. “Like this?” Your voice squeaks - you suck the inside of your cheek meekly. Leon nods and lets his eyes fall shut when your hand delivers the wet squelches, pre slicking up the entirety of your palm and leaking through your nimble fingers. There’s the faintest bucking of hips and you see him tense before coming to a halt, restraining himself. You’re so wet it hurts. You need him bucking into you instead, and not holding back.

Leon’s cock oozes generously upon your ministrations and before you know it you’re moving on top to straddle him. Real cowgirl in the making - so excited to have her first ride. He croaks dizziedly, hands hooking behind your knees and helping you up on his lap. You think back to how the Redfields see you two, what they don’t know about you. Maybe the fact that Leon has a college kid for a lapdog isn’t the worst thing that's been happening around here. Maybe that he breeds it on a daily without a pinch of guilt is a fair enough transgression. The waistband of your mini is yanked down when Leon hikes you up on his knee, forcing you to shimmy out of it. He feels up the plush of your pussy, prods through your dampened panties like that doesn’t make you all the more desperate. You’re drooling, practically. If Leon didn’t know any better, he’d stick his fingers down your greedy cunt, but you’ve got to work for it first.

“Come on, baby. Rub yourself on Daddy,” he pulls your panties aside, and you’re so quick to listen. You sink down, hands perched on your ankles until your slippery folds engulf his tip. You’re making quite the mess - to that he toots but otherwise leans back to observe how his princess is willing to fulfill her duty. You buck your hips back and forth, run your nub over his slit repeatedly and whimper like a bitch in heat. When you slide too close to your hole, he slaps your tit, grips your chin between two fingers to give you a warning. This is the root of this whole ordeal - him fucking you to a pulp, turning you into a full crazed nymphomaniac and then leaving like nothing happened. It’s not fair, not fair at all - and the worst part is he’s sure to serve you justice using the same treatment. Fucking you so hard you forget you ever doubted him in the first place.

“Just like that. Good girl,” he murmurs, speaking to you like you’re mentally deficient - which you are. You test your luck by squeezing yourself down, attempting to take him in a little, but Leon’s cock springs like a twig, flaps over you with a wet squelch. You whine.

“Daddy!” you grumble like it’s his fault you failed so miserably. He shakes his head, “You know I spoil you too much,” and with that, Leon jams himself inside until he’s breaching you to the brim. You were wrong for being so hasty - he’ll give you a bitter taste.

Startled, you drape your head over his shoulder and sink your nails into his back. You could feel the jab to your cervix, and while that wasn’t particularly good, the feeling of Leon seating you to the hilt sent you straight to heaven. You haven’t had him since so long - you swore at times you clenched on nothing. Leon fills you so good, God, he fills you better than anyone has ever had, and it drives you mad when he doesn’t. You sit bandy-legged when his arms lock around your shoulders, bringing you up so he can slump you back on his cock. Horsey, right? Chris and Claire wouldn’t see either of you in the same light if they knew.

“You might just be the dirtiest girl, yeah baby?” He groans, and the tone alone is enough to have you gripping. You shake your head, dirty isn’t exactly your most-liked title. “No?” Leon thrusts deep and you jump up with him, hugging him tight for comfort.

“No! ‘m not—” He rocks you on him, does all the work cause you’re a pillow princess even on top. So spoiled, and yet he’s to blame. Maybe you’ll change one day, but so far he hasn’t had the guts to work you for that outcome. “But you woke Daddy up so you could have his cock up that drooly pussy, didn’t you?” he says and the words jab straight into that spot. Leon groans and then you’re moving on your own, sheathing yourself on him over and over until a ring of white gathers around the base of his cock. Now you get it. Now it’s horsey.

“Sorry, Daddy. I missed you so much— sorry,” you recite like a plea, stumbling over your words after a moment, until it’s just unintelligible moans, because Leon’s cock pounds you so good. You lick the sweat off his temple, watch his brows furrow when his hands grip your hips and squeeze impossibly tight, lips catching over yours when your movements grow shaky.

“Sorry— I’m sorry, sorry— Daddy—” Leon shushes you when he begins to thrust in tandem with your wobbly hops, thrusting to a depth you thought was impossible to reach before. You see it flash before you and soon he’s lifting your body, holding you up as he drives relentlessly into your wetness, back arched and nose nuzzling the crook of your neck with sharp primal grunts. Daddy fucks you so good. Daddy pampers you so much. Daddy loves you to the moon and back, and he’s going to give you warm milk to put you to sleep.

“Fuck, baby— You’re a natural. Rode the horsey so good, now it’s Daddy’s turn—” your heart skips a beat when you’re thrown over the coffee table, all the items toppling over with a row of clattering, and Leon being able to dig deeper into you when you thought he’d reached your limit. You throw your legs over his shoulders, your panties begin to tear and the table begins to crack until you’re screaming his name. Fuck. God. The pressure inside you amplifies and then you’re struck by unadulterated bliss, the familiar warmth coating your inner walls which is quick to gush out the seams as Leon gives one last jab to secure the tip against your cervix. His hair is wet and he heaves like a dog, hands still holding you tightly against the table which you fear might collapse any minute now. You shiver - he gives your side a good smack and pulls out of you with a plop, all what he planted inside you oozing out in thick dollops. Not on his watch, though, ‘cause he pushes it back placidly, panting.

“Good enough for today, princess,” he says but you’re already out of it, lashes fluttering as you try to grip onto your consciousness, but Leon knocked all the breath out of you, you’ve expired. You hum, feeling your walls pulse and chest swell in a slow-paced rhythm. It’s like that one time you convinced him you’d be able to handle an all-nighter but fell asleep one hour past midnight. “Well, you set yourself a record,” because it’s just one hour later which is impressive for a little girl like you.

He’ll have to change you into something more comfortable. A miniskirt and knee highs on a winter day? What, were you trying to whore yourself out to the Ghosts? He gets it, you were just asking for it, just wanted to stick your cute ass to get his attention, but sometimes you’re genuinely stupid. His stupid girl. Drunk off Daddy’s milk - he’ll bear that in mind. Sliding his hands under your frail body, he makes the dire mistake of trying to lift you when the coffee table caves in and snatches you with it. Auntie Jill called Daddy a ‘fucking cheapskate’ once when she was over - now you get what she meant.

#૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩🐾#fics 💌#leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #leon x reader smut #death island leon

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sweetestdesire · 3 months

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CALMING THE TEMPEST

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet sex. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Trevor Zegras x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader finds out just how thrilling a storm can be.

The storm had been building all day. The thick air crackled and shimmered. The atmosphere had grown dark. Intense, even. Y/N's own tension had wound through her body until her skin felt as though it was reacting to the change in the air. The only light available came from the flashes of lightning overhead.

A loud crack of thunder brought her back to reality, her eyes refocusing on the heavy rain beating on the windows from outside. Y/N pulled the blanket closer to her chest, breathing heavily. The booming sound echoed throughout the bedroom and her body tensed as intense fear coursed through her veins.

"Shit." Trevor whispered, dropping the towel from his damp hair and rushing over towards Y/N.

He barely heard a sniffle escape her before he sat on the bed, pulling her to him right after. Her stiff shoulders immediately relaxed as soon as his arms enveloped her own.

"Baby, I'm so fucking sorry." Trevor said quickly, immediately drawing circles on her back as he pulled her into his mint-scented chest. "I didn't hear the thunder over the shower."

Y/N barely squeaked out a reassurance before the sky roared again, and her thoughts were vanquished by another wave of fear.

"Tell you what; I'll go make you some tea, and we can stay up and talk until you fall asleep. How does that sound?"

Y/N felt his hold on her loosen, and her brain wasn't about to lose his comforting touch that quickly. "Please, don't go just yet." She pleaded, trembling hands holding onto him a bit tighter.

Trevor’s heart squeezed especially hard at her unwillingness to let him go, so he brushed her hair away from her face, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Of course."

He rested his cheek against the top of her hair as he cradled her shoulders, hoping that the pressure against them distracts her enough from the low rumble of the thunder above. The bedroom flashed white for a second and she flinched, curling herself into his chest before the thunder shook the ground again, and Trevor stroked her hair, pulling her closer in an attempt to calm her down.

"Sh, baby, it's okay. I'm right here." Trevor whispered, but the wind picked up again and he felt her fingers balling his shirt up into tightly closed fists.

The time between the lightning and thunder still wasn't close enough; the storm was only going to get worse, and he could feel her drowsiness get chased away by fear with every bright flash of light. Y/N wasn't going to sleep if this storm kept up.

"Come here." Trevor mumbled, wrapping his arms tight around her and giving her a second to readjust herself before picking her up.

Trevor walked over to her side of the bed to carefully pull the blanket back before laying her down on the sheets. He climbed in beside her a moment later, pulling the blanket over the both of them before turning to look at her. Y/N reached out for him, giving him no choice but to hold her in his arms again.

His thumb gently stroked her cheek, trying to dry away the tears as he scooted closer to her, cupping her face with both hands now. Trevor leaned in, connecting her forehead to his lips in a gentle kiss, and for a short moment she stopped shaking, mind now focusing on the warmth that he provided.

When Trevor pulled away though, Y/N tensed up again, so he only gave himself a moment to look at her before placing another at her temple. And at the bridge of her nose. And on her eyelids, eyelashes fluttering with every soft brush of his lips against them.

Trevor didn't leave an inch of her cheeks unkissed either, taking his time to cover each side if it meant that she would calm down. And Y/N was slowly starting to ignore the crashing of the thunder, but one flash of light had her curling her fingers around his wrists, and his heart clenched in his chest again.

"It's okay, baby. You're okay." Trevor sighed, as one of his hands smoothed itself over her hair.

He was reluctant to pull away, but Trevor knew that now might not be the time for intimacy, so he unlocked his lips from hers and gazed into her eyes. But then he felt the gentle tugging of her fingers on his shirt, silently asking to have him closer, and he decided that if his kisses brought her any sort of comfort, then he'd kiss her until the sky clears.

His lips pressed into hers, relishing the softness under them as Trevor pulled her closer, gladly accepting her whimpers and swallowing them between his lips as she melted into his touch. The thunder cracked again and Y/N flinched, but less this time as Trevor licked her bottom lip.

Trevor slipped a hand around her waist, securing her back before lowering it to the sheets below her, and the tips of his hair feathered lightly across her cheek as he hovered over her, pausing. He wasn't sure what his next move was, but with another flash through the sky, he kissed both of her eyelids and moved to kiss her jaw.

His lips fluttered against the sensitive spot right below her ear, leaving the softest pecks under her ear as Y/N squirmed under him, a quiet sigh leaving her while he moved his fingers to intertwine with hers. Trevor slowly moved down her neck, adding enough pressure to make her skin warm.

Trevor moved back to her pulse point to leave a fleeting kiss there, but was slow to pull away once he felt just how fast her heart was beating. Part of him wanted to believe that it's because of him and not the storm outside, so he flickered his gaze to hers.

His eyes met her closed ones, shut in what appeared to be bliss after his lips painted her neck, only now fluttering open once Y/N realized that the sensation has stopped. Rain suddenly beat hard against the window and she snapped out of her blissful daze, hands now squeezing tight against his as she whimpered.

"Sh, it's alright." Trevor said softly, leaning up to rest his forehead against hers. "I'm right here, baby." His lips pressed against her cheeks, but then his breath hitched in his throat as he got an idea. "Just trust me, yeah?" He whispered, falling onto his side next to her and sliding his hands down to her waist.

Trevor paused at the waistband of her sleep shorts, waiting for any sign of discomfort, but eventually started pulling it down along with her panties, hands warming the cool skin of her thighs. He gently pulled her hips to his, bringing them closer before pulling his own shorts down and lifting up her thigh so he had enough space for himself.

Slowly, Trevor edged his length into her, her head falling into his chest as Y/N felt her walls expanding to fit him, and she was so dizzy from the stretch that when the sky lit up again, she was entirely too focused on adjusting to notice.

"I'll stay like this as long as you want me to, okay?" Y/N heard him whisper, and she nodded against his chest as his arms wrapped around her head and waist protectively, almost shielding her from the thunder that followed soon after.

His hand slid under the back of her shirt, rubbing circles with the palm of his hand on her bare skin, and the warming sensation relaxed her stomach enough for her core to stop squeezing around Trevor, him letting out a breath of relief that he hoped she didn't notice.

His hand stops its movements against her back, instead sliding to her hip, holding her in place against him with both hands. Slowly, Trevor pulled himself out of her before he pushed back in, and her brain became an absolute wreck from feeling so full. His hands took hers and pressed them into the pillow around her head, gently lacing their fingers together.

"Don't worry, l've got you." Trevor softly whispered into her ear.

And he did; within minutes, Trevor had Y/N wrapped tightly around him, who was no longer paying any attention to the storm outside that has gotten worse, because he was working wonders inside her and she couldn't help but be distracted by the way he was kissing her face and rolling his hips.

Y/N was close and Trevor could tell from the way her walls fluttered around him and her hands became restless under his, so he pressed his forehead to hers, hoping that she'd finally be at peace when she finished. Her eyebrows furrowed against his and her mouth fell open as a quiet moan escaped her, and Y/N could feel her core clamping down around him before letting go.

Trevor bit down on his lip, not letting a sound escape him as he slowly rode out her orgasm, tracing over her knuckles soothingly with his thumbs. One of his hands moved to brush the stray hairs away from her face so he could kiss her forehead, waiting for her to calm down underneath him as she caught her breath.

A minute later, Trevor moved to pull out, but she stopped him, not wanting him to be too far from her still. He immediately pulled her to his chest and rolled over. Her head fell into the crook of his neck, the sound of the rain now starting to lull her to sleep, and Trevor secured her tightly against him with his arms around her waist.

Thunder cracked once more, and this time, Y/N didn't stir.

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judethejudas · 1 year

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MW2 König x Male! Stripper! Reader Smut

König steps out of his comfort zone to meet an old friend at a club. But what happens when he decides to make a new friend there? In ways he couldn’t imagine.

(S/N) = stripper name

(F/C) = favorite color

WARNING: highly sexual themes, swearing, size difference, cis male reader described.

MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

Dear god. Did he really have to do this?

König stood completely still as he stared up at the red neon sign above him, which read ‘Dante’s Inferno’.

A strip club. A rather diverse one to be exact since the strippers consisted of both women and men.

“Schieße.. I can’t go in there..” The Austrian was too shy to push himself to go in. He’s never been in such a place but his childhood friend, his only friend, had invited him to catch up on old times since it’s been so long.

But.. there were naked men and women in there. He wouldn’t be able to get a single word out if he went in! Oh how his anxiety crippled him.

He couldn’t disappoint his friend though. Not when he was the only one he felt safe with during his childhood. The least he could do was just go in and talk over a drink, right?

König took a deep breath, and vanquished his fear for a moment to walk inside the club.

After paying the fee, he was fully allowed inside and he was able to see just what he was getting himself into.

Women and men, scantily dressed, walked with such a sway of their bodies it was crumbling the beast of a man.

He hated being so tall sometimes. It meant he was always the centre of attraction, even in a place like this.

Both patrons and the strippers would look over at the hulking mass at the doorway, shocked at how tall he was.

König sheepishly walked at a brisk pace to the table where his friend was seated, ignoring the stares of everybody as he passed by.

“My friend! It is so good to see you again, so good!” His friend stepped out of the booth to give him a hug and König let out a quick sigh of relief. He was so happy he wasn’t alone.

“Very good to see you too.” He mumbled out as they both took their seats. The two chatted about their lives, their childhoods together, what they were doing now and whatnot.

König refused to look at any stripper that walked by them or was performing on that stage.

“Still as shy as ever, yeah?” His friend chuckled, giving him a pat on his back.

König chuckled too, just more quietly and almost sounding embarrassed. Oh, he was embarrassed. The pink tint on his cheeks and ears proved it.

“I don’t get out much, more of a workaholic if anything.”

“Oh? Then we need to change that..”

The Austrian man did not like the way he said that.

He felt his heart racing as his friend motioned for one of the strippers to come over.

Oh no.

“I-I, now there’s no need please, I’m fine right here..!”

“Nonsense! This’ll be good for you, I promise!”

A man was coming over, dressed in (f/c) short briefs and adorned with jewelry and harnesses on his legs.

König avoided eye contact when you took a seat next to him.

“Can I help you, boys?” You sat so close to the poor man his thigh was trembling a bit. He could feel your arm and your leg pressed up to his own. This was quite a lot of physical contact for a man like himself.

“Yes. My friend König here would love your services, perhaps in the VIP room?”

“Of course. Come along, darling. I’ll show you the way..” You smiled and took his hand in your own, leaving the booth and heading to the back rooms where the private dances were held.

“My name is (s/n), if you were curious about that.”

König tried to say something after you told him your fake name, but he was at a loss for words and was unable to speak. He could only look downwards to the floor to avoid showing his intense blush.

He could hear the different music in this new part of the building and small, separate rooms, people were receiving lap dances.

König immediately turned his gaze away from them and focused on you, well, your backside at least. And even that made him look away again.

“Okay, love, here we are. Now you just sit there and make yourself comfortable.” You said with a lilt in your voice, leading him to the leather chair and gently pushing him down to make him sit.

König still didn’t look at you when he was sat, but you could clearly see the cute redness on his face.

“You’re awfully shy for such a big man.. Do I make you nervous, hun?” Your fingers pet his cheek and you turned his face so you could look at him directly. The panic in this man’s eyes was so clear to you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No no, I..” He finally spoke but couldn’t finish as he was getting flushed again, staring at your nearly exposed body from top to bottom.

“Is this your first time?” You asked as you sat in his lap, making him stiffen and immediately look to the side. His eyes were wide and he bit his tongue, trying to stifle a stutter he knew was coming on.

You leaned in, your hand was stroking his torso muscles through his black shirt and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be slow and gentle with you. I promise.” You whispered in his ear.

He nearly moaned when he felt a soft pair of lips kissing his jawline and throat. Never had he been kissed like this before. He actually couldn’t even recall a genuine kiss at the moment.

You knew how touch starved he was as soon as his breathing picked up.

Your dance had just started and König was already trembling in his seat.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You gently commanded and he obeyed, his eyes now turned from the wall to you.

Your body was sat up in his lap and your hands caressed your chest and your sides, giving him a half lidded horny stare. You unlatched the harness from your legs and tossed it aside, even playing with the edge of your briefs.

König couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to at that moment. You were so gorgeous and knew exactly what to do with yourself. It was hypnotic.

He nearly whined when you got off his lap and stood up in front of him.

“You’re so hot, König. So fucking cute.” You breathed out as you did your dance, slowly and sensually just for him. He shuddered at the way you said his name and you smirked. He saw your ass when you bent down and how your fingers teasingly pulled your briefs down a little, before pulling them back up and giving your ass a slap and a wiggle.

After a few minutes, you got back into his lap for the more touchier dance.

The part of your routine that involved grinding against his crotch with your own was enough to break him.

He groaned, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and coiled in shame. He knew hardly anything of strip clubs but he did know it was not customary to be so loud.

Now this just won’t do, you thought.

You took his hand away and placed it on your hip, grabbing his other hand too and holding it against your chest. König was unsure of what to do but he was thankful you were taking the lead, even if it was embarrassing for him.

“It’s alright, you can be as loud as you want with me.”

Then you started moving against him again.

König sucked in a harsh breath and gripped onto your hip, careful as to not hurt you since he was very aware of his strength.

His gentility and obvious shyness is what you loved about him so far. He was different than the usual patrons. Sure you’ve gotten some shy ones before but this one?

You were convinced he was a virgin. Or at least had sex just once and not since.

Why were you so convinced? Well, the man you were grinding against was getting quite the hard on. And you felt it bulging against you.

König blushed and apologized to you profusely, to which you hushed him immediately. It wasn’t the first time a man was hard because of you, nothing to be ashamed about. You only leaned in close so that your lips were only inches apart from his.

“Do you want to fuck me, König..?”

The Austrian stared at you with shock, trying to find the right words without sounding like a fool. He had never been asked that before, at least not like this. Being bullied nearly all his life, his self confidence was very low and he never would have expected to have someone as beautiful as you on top of him.

“Ah.. yes.. I do..”

You smiled as your hand came up to touch his cheek gently, making him instantly lean into the warmth.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was a question he could answer easily. With a nod, almost an eager one.

You connected your lips to his as soon as he gave you the okay. His were rough in comparison to yours but it fit so sweetly. You also noticed he wasn’t the greatest kisser due to his inexperience, you liked it though. Your eyes and his closed while you both found a comfortable rhythm with your lips.

What a quick learner he was.

You started grinding against him again and he moaned into the kiss, which allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

His eyes were wide open now when he felt your tongue against his. He kissed someone only once before, in high school when a girl was dared to kiss him but it didn’t feel real at all. It felt like a joke, just someone for all the kids to laugh at. And there was certainly no tongue when he got kissed.

No, it felt like you genuinely wanted him.

You cock was beginning to harden as well and König felt it. If he had any doubts that you wanted him then they were quickly vanquished when he felt your bulge on his.

“Mmh, König..” You moaned out and started kissing his throat, giving it gentle sucks and licks. You didn’t want to rush him since he was most likely new to all this. The little grunts and groans he let out told you so.

Your hands came up to stroke his body through the fitted shirt he wore while his hands groped your hips. He went in for another kiss, now instantly addicted to the way your lips felt on his. Kissing was now his favorite thing.

You two stayed like that for a while. Kissing each other passionately and moving your crotch against his back and forth. He felt huge through his pants. You guessed around 10 inches and very thick.

“Fuck.. liebling.. I don’t think I can wait anymore..” He said after he broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling heavily. You saw the shyness in his eyes still, but the horniness that accompanied it was much stronger.

You smiled and got off his lap to kneel down in front of him, spreading his legs apart with your hands. His bulge was very large and pressing against the fabric of his pants. Poor baby, how uncomfortable he must be feeling right now.

The taller man froze when he saw you unzipping his pants with your teeth, staring up at him with a lustful gaze.

To him, you looked so angelic, despite the actions being so sinful.

His boxers were pulled down and his hard cock immediately stood at full attention. You were shocked at the size of him. He must have been 12 inches instead of 10 like you thought. It was veiny, and already leaking pre cum.

How this man kept the monster behind bars? You had no clue.

You cast aside your thoughts and went to work. Your lips closed around his swollen, red tip and gave it a swirl of your tongue— focusing on the underside. This man deserved some good head and it’s the least you could do, for now.

The man groaned and stopped himself from bucking his hips into your mouth. How horrible it would be if he accidentally made you choke. You personally wouldn’t have minded if he did but he had anxiety about it.

You started taking more of him into your mouth, comfortably fitting 5 inches without pushing too far. Your personal record was 8 inches but the ones you’ve had before were less thicker and longer than König.

Your head bobbed up and down on him at a moderate pace.

“Fuck.. oh fuck.. yes, just like that..” The man above you panted and leaned his head back. He truly felt like a king now, just as his name meant. Every time you found his sweet spot he would shut his eyes tight and feel a shiver coursing through his body.

It was only when you swallowed a few more inches of his cock that he snapped his eyes open and looked down at you, surprised you could take more.

Your gag reflex was long gone since coming into this business. While you weren’t a prostitute, you did find a few men attractive that you’d end up fucking them either in or out of the club. And had plenty of practice in blowjobs.

König couldn’t take it anymore. It was so sudden when he came down your throat that your eyes widened in surprise. Thankfully you suppressed the urge to cough and let his warm cum spurt down.

When he finally finished, you took your mouth off him.

“I’m.. so very sorry.. I should have said something.” He said as he was trying to catch his breath, looking like a guilty puppy.

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it.” You giggled a little and stood up to your feet. It was time for something a little more intimate that both of you could enjoy.

You got back into his lap and took his hand in yours, taking his middle and pointer finger and began sucking on them.

König felt his dick twitch when he felt your tongue in between his fingers. Your saliva coated them generously and he was starting to like the fact he was so big in comparison to you.

When you felt it was enough, you took his fingers out of your mouth and guided them to your ass. He caught on quickly and prodded his pointer at your hole.

Your lips parted into a shuddered moan before helping him push the finger inside you, the other following suit immediately.

It didn’t take you long to start riding his digits to stretch you out. And boy, did his fingers do the job.

“Fuck.. mmh… König~” You dragged his name out in a moan as you felt his fingers curl inside you. He was more confident than before and start fingering you himself after a minute or two.

His lips captured yours in a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You would let out a series of grunts and moans against his mouth when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot within you. Hell, you could cum just from his hands alone without even touching your cock.

But you wanted more.

You abruptly took his fingers out and pulled away from the kiss, and König suddenly worried he had displeased you.

You saw the look on his face and moved closer to him, both your cocks now rubbing against each other.

“I want you so bad, König. I want to feel you inside me. I can’t wait anymore..” You begged him softly.

The Austrian man was relieved to hear you didn’t want to stop, but he did worry about how he would fit inside you.

You took the lead and leaned upwards, grabbing his cock and putting it towards your ass. It would be quite the stretch but you could take it.

His tip entered you first and you gasped, slowly sinking onto him. His cum being a lubricant did help, but it was still a little painful.

König groaned and held you by your waist, making sure you weren’t entirely speared on his dick. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. You knew your limits though and made sure to take it easy.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to bounce up and down— slowly.

You figured riding him would be the easiest position to do considering his massive body. It was like being on top of a giant.

“God, liebling. You feel so good inside..” He groaned. “So warm and tight.”

You whimpered as more of his dick filled you up and you laid your forehead on his shoulder. You were fully bottomed out and it was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure you were feeling. It only encouraged you to ride him at a quicker pace.

The two of you exchanged filthy, desperate noises. König’s confidence was building and he even started groping you from the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock while you bounced on him.

Thank god the VIP room you two were in was at the every end of the hall. There was no reason for anyone to barge in and the music covered yours and his sounds well enough.

You felt his lips sloppily giving you kisses on your neck and collarbone, even sucking just as you did before. His mind was hazy and all he could think about was making you feel good.

König decided to be brave and take over.

He turned himself to the side and laid you down on the leather seat, now fucking you in a missionary position. He was able to go deeper inside this way and hit your prostate each time. He had also discarded his shirt as it was getting much too hot for unnecessary clothing.

There was no time to admire his body. All you could see were the few scars he had and his defined muscles.

You squealed as he started thrusting into you hard. Your legs coming up to latch around his waist.

“Please let me take you home, schatz. We can fuck like this all night..!” He grunted. One hand gripped the couch next to your head and the other held your hip in place. “I don’t want to stop here, not when you make me feel like this.. like I’ll go insane without you.”

His words excited you, but he was pounding into you so hard you couldn’t form a sentence— or even say yes. And oh how you wanted to scream yes.

You gasped when you felt his hand leaving your hip and taking hold of your cock, pumping it up and down quickly to the pace of his thrusts.

You felt like you would go insane without him too. The way his body enveloped yours and made you feel so incredible, so sex crazed and desperate for more of his touch.

Beads of sweat dropped from König’s forehead and onto your stomach. He was getting close to release again and hoped you were too.

Wanting to be closer, he leaned down and held you by your waist— before easily lifting you up and fucking you against his bare, sweaty chest. One hand held you by your ass and the other still on your waist.

You snaked your arms over his shoulders and held him tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

“Make me yours, König.. ” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

The larger man groaned loudly when he heard you and buried himself deep inside, letting his cock fill you with cum.

That was enough to send you over the edge.

Your cock painted his chest as well as your own with cum, letting out a silent gasp and shuddering hard. This had to be the hardest you ever came in your life and you nearly lost consciousness.

Exhausted and well spent, König sat back down with you still on top of him. Both of you trying to catch your breath while stuck in a warm embrace.

Now he had to come up with a good excuse to leave his friend a little earlier than expected.

And you needed to ditch work.

________________

I can’t even begin to describe how appalled I was to find zero male readers for König. APPALLED. I LOVE this man.

Also please let me know if there’s specific parts I goofed on, like spelling errors and whatnot because I was in a rush to make this.

#cod #mw2 #könig #könig mw2 #könig x male reader #könig x male! reader #mw2 könig #cod könig

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khaosrealms · 6 months

Note

Any hcs on how Nanami,Choso and Suguru shows their love towards their s/o?

I love these men so much.

TOUCHED BY BENZAITEN / how do they show their love?

a/n: thank you so so much for the jujutsu kaisen request! i know i've mostly been doing mortal kombat requests-- but getting to mix it up for y'all is the absolute best! i hope this is to your enjoyment 💛

NANAMI KENTO:

For Nanami, showing his love for you is almost as easy as breathing— once he’s settled with you in his heart, it’s instinct, constant and invigorating. His love shows in little ways; discreet ways. Keeping his hand on the small of your back while you are in a group talking. Taking something out of your hair without you noticing. A cold cup of water with ice ready by your bedside table when you wake up. Nanami loves to show his love in ways that mean something only for you. Love that isn’t for anyone else to interpret. He’ll always remember your favorite meal, your favorite drink. Always keep track of anniversaries, special days, the birthdays of people important to you. In your private moments, he shows his love most in his voice. Speaking your name as if it is the most important word in the whole of the universe. Laced with slow, deep kisses. Weighty, certain touches. His love is a foundation. Always so secure; never once questioning. If there is every a moment where you ask yourself if Nanami truly loves you, it is vanquished the second you see him amongst a crowd and the first thing he does is look for you.

CHOSO:

Choso’s love is doeish, newborn. He’s stumbling most of his way through his love for you— but it’s never out of malice. You cannot expect a man who has been birthed as an experiment to not be somewhat inexperienced in his show of adoration. Yet, when he finally comes to terms with his feelings for you, his love is complete and utter devotion. Always the first to your defense, always the first to support you. The kind of love that means learning from you; figuring out the ways he can prove to you his love. Choso loves, more than anything, with complete and utter sincerity. Learning to sew so he can patch a shirt of your’s horrendously. Clumsily stumbling through cooking so he can make a meal you’d been moaning about craving for months. Figuring out how you like him to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you. Choso spends his every second loving you learning from you; and as much as he might trip, he always gets back up to prove it to you. Quietly, most of the time, yes— but so very passionately at all times.

GETOU SUGURU:

If Suguru is your first love, he might simply be your last with the way he treats you. And if he isn’t your last, you’ll spend your years reminiscing back on the way he loved you. Suguru’s love is honey, silky and sweet, and every bit as warming as it is refreshing. Suguru is not unabashed about showing his love of you off. Taking you to shows where you are at the foot of the stage, inches away from your favorite artist. Sitting across an exquisite table from you with his chin in his hand, watching you whilst you eat. Suguru likes to indulge you. Whether it’s with gifts or with his lips; keep you reminded that you are worth receiving more from this world, worth being spoiled. He loves like a pedestal. Holds you up high, his arms out and ready to catch you should you fall. There’s no doubt to anyone that you are his— always an arm around your waist, a hair tie you both share, a jacket you both exchange around a night out. You are his. Just as much as he is your’s.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagine #khaosrealms #i think i deserve 2 kiss #all 3 of them on the lips #this was a dangerous combo to drop on me anon

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

Note

Hi! I hope this is something that hasn’t been already mentioned but what about any yandere of your choice having a s/o who is nice at first but once they are kidnapped they are creepy and mean like so creepy to the point of insanity

Hello to you, too! This hasn't been mentioned yet so rest assured. To start off, ‘creepy’ can go so many ways ; s/o's behavior could either mirror the yanderes', or they could be just mentally unstable (again, like the yandere themself or perhaps... as a result of the yandere's overwhelming influence? hoho). The possibilities are limitless here, so, for the sake of the ask let's just go with the two-faced factor i. e. take s/o as this angel like person that the yanderes think they are but when they make the inevitable abducting, turns out they're.. not so different after all.

And I choose some of the Harbingers since they have no filter to their insanity ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

──⚝ il dottore

Well well well, aren't you just like him? You really are a specimen worth studying. Dottore chose you because he saw something different in you in the first place, this turn of events is definitely good serotonin for his researcher mind. He even turns this into sort of a competition to see who has more facades : good ol' you or him with his army of clones? Now, its up to you to take his nonchalance as disturbing or not and as for the Doctor, he's certainly thrilled to uncover how many more secrets you're withholding from him.

──⚝ columbina

Will giggle, maybe even squeeze your cheeks, aren't you a cute one? She coos, not taking you seriously at all. If anything, her infantilizing behavior just gets worse. She could even be a little relieved ; you were such an irresistible source of light, always letting the ugly moths and insects bask in that brightness — could you really blame her when she merely, oh so benevolently saved you from their repulsive claws? Though such feelings are visceral, she believes herself to be your guardian angel, this tweeny shift of attitude is nothing to her. Her overwhelming complexity, unpredictability and little-to-no regard for your feelings might just vanquish what little scrap of sanity you had left.

──⚝ scaramouche

The ideal preference of Harbinger Scaramouche in this circumstance would be if you encouraged his yandere tendencies, nodding along excitedly at his grandiose plans of attaining divinity and basically fanning the flames. He'd be ecstatic! Finally, he felt completed. Of course, this whole situation is far from healthy and admittedly, a little fragile but hey, at least you can be the cute, loving criminal couple :)

──⚝ sandrone

Doesn't make a difference to her, as long as you stay put and don't make her creations chase you around Zapolyarny ; she's fine with everything. She's a researcher, too, so don't be surprised if she started tweaking with your mind here and there — she only wants to understand you <3 Definitely has a plethora of plans and experiments already chalked up in her head regarding this sudden revelation.

──⚝ arlecchino

Now, her reaction differs depending on the level of obedience you show her afterwards. Arlecchino had already expected some semblance of defiance but that wasn't her worry since she's confident in her ability to get you wrapped around her finger. If the sudden reveal proves that she'd underestimated the extent of your stubbornness then, she'll be pretty mad as time goes on. Do wonder who's more sane in the instance she snaps. However, if you're complacent and obey her every command, she has no issues and might even encourage your behavior... to her advantage, that is.

──⚝ pantalone

The Regrator most likely noticed cracks in your ‘benevolent’ composure and thus, decided to own you. Because otherwise, it'd really just be keeping a carbon copy of himself. I can actually see him being a little disturbed (compared to others) but, he's quick to recover. But whether or not he will be perturbed by your behavior at all depends on how deep his affections run. If he's deluded himself in your kindness, then he'll likely excuse you, every time. You could perhaps use this state of the Regrator to have a little taste of freedom as well.

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moonshine-nightlight · 10 months

Text

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Five

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 25

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] Part Twenty-Five [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You’d thought the galas had been uncomfortable, but apparently they are nothing compared to the three Northridges in an argument.

You’re all in the study Grandmother’s been lent for your stay, Dale and yourself at a table with Dale’s paperwork spread out around him while Grandfather paces having long vacated his own chair. You wish you could occupy yourself by reading his notes, but they’re in a shorthand code you don’t know. Probably for the best for secrecy purposes, but unhelpful as a distraction. You wonder if Dale will teach it to you once you have the time.

“Unacceptable,” Grandmother says, frowning at Dale. You think it’s the sternest she’s ever looked at him given her usual soft spot for her grandson. “Pride is no excuse not to use every advantage at your disposal to locate these enemies.”

“Unnecessary,” Dale corrects. He presses his lips together before he forces himself to take a deep breath. You appreciate how he keeps his frustration contained, his eyes trained on his notes and waiting to respond when the original Dale would not have. You want to comfort or show your support for him, but you’ve no idea how. So you keep your hands clasped in your lap and hope that when the moment comes for you to assist, you notice it. “All the combatants were defeated; we need to focus on who paid them. I doubt any of the true architects behind the attack would be found out by exorcists. Such people would only be useful at locating the mercenaries.”

“You cannot be certain that the skinwere is truly vanquished,” Grandfather insists, not pausing in his pacing.

It’s challenging to know when you should speak up and when you should keep silent in this argument, particularly when it is not yet your family. Your inclination during verbal fights is nearly always to remain silent. Your eyes dart to Dale, whose expression does not give away that he is by far the most knowledgeable regarding whether or not he has killed a demon or merely removed a possession. Unfortunately, that would not be a helpful interjection.

Grandfather continues, “It might have simply returned to the Depths. What will you do if it returns? In a new body, it will already know your strength and will be more prepared. It will have all the knowledge it gained prior to the attack. It could take you by surprise. An exorcist—”

“Is unnecessary,” Dale repeats. He finally looks up from his papers to meet first Grandfather’s and then Grandmother’s eyes in turn. “I know that it is vanquished. An exorcist will only waste money to confirm the same thing. Many of them are charlatans regardless, no more able to identify and banish a demon than anyone else and only able to part the gullible from their coin.”

“I know plenty of competent and qualified exorcists, Dale,” Grandmother’s tone is arch, clearly not thrown off by Dale’s rebuttal. “The persistence of the demonic is not to be underestimated.”

“We have been dealing with these threats longer than you have, my boy,” Grandfather says, a paternal and condescending tone to his voice. “We have the experience. We have the contacts. We should be leading this investigation and yet you are willfully keeping vital information to yourself.”

“Yes, and I shall continue to do so,” Dale replies, eyes back on his papers while you resist the urge to fidget under Grandfather’s intent and frustrated gaze. He had shared some of the information he learned about the employers of the mercenaries from his separate, second fight with Two with you, but nothing with his grandparents beyond his confirmation of Two’s defeat. You’re not sure that his grandparents realize he’s told you even a word or two more than them and are not sure if you even want them to find out. “I was the target of this threat and I shall be the one to see it ended.”

“Now is not the time to act too big for your britches,” Grandfather snaps.

“If this is a bid for maturity, for lordship, it is misplaced,” Grandmother’s voice is clearer and sharper. “Only the childish attempt to do things in isolation, mired in a false sense of independence, in pride, in hubris. There is no need to prove yourself, Dale,” her voice gentles here, at the end. It is interesting to hear them make points that would be valid, if only they were aimed at their grandson and not the present Dale. They don’t know they are arguing against a stranger, that their words are aimed at a ghost. “There is nothing to prove. There are only enemies of Northridge to deal with, with everything we have at our disposal.”

You wonder how the original Dale would have handled this argument, if he even decided to have it. The point might have been moot given how much this Dale needed to draw on his nature to win it. Maybe instead you and his grandparents would have been here, reading a ransom note. Maybe you or grandmother would not have survived the night.

“You expect us to trust your judgment,” Grandfather says, strain in his voice as he attempts to rein himself in, “but there are actions that speak against such rational thought. I still cannot believe the utter foolishness that you demonstrated, chasing after one into the night. Do you know how many of those demons have powers over darkness?”

You look down at the papers on the table, just in case your eyes or expression otherwise give away how ironic you find that statement. Picturing Dale’s control over shadows and darkness brings back memories of the fight. It also brings up memories of the dream you had last night. The dream’s images conjured to your mind by the sight of this new Dale, with his humanity an obvious after thought, to be contemplated while asleep. Darkness poured over the estimate of the human form, his bright eyes, the strength and speed he possessed in those moments.

You feel your cheeks heat at how the dream had diverted from the memory it began by rehashing. Of how it was routed in the manner of his hand on your chin after the fight had ended. In your dreams, his grip had once more been delicate silk over wrought iron strength. He had done more than look as he checked you were whole. His voice had that same reverberation of feeling and affection you heard near the end of the fight, when your name on his lips had evoked such emotion.

“I was not acting out of immature pride or foolishness then and neither am I now,” Dale replies, snapping you back to the present. His jaw is set as he puts his pen down to give them his full attention. “I am acting as I see fit, based on the circumstances at hand. I had received the training required and the knowledge to hold my own in such a fight. I had observed my opponent and knew the limits of his capabilities as well as my own.”

Dale’s confidence in the fight, even more so than in the tournament, had been obvious. Even now it was a comfort to you, to know how strong he truly was. This Dale’s strength is an asset, not the concern it had been originally. You still might have advised him to include his grandparents, if you didn’t know what you knew and how dangerous such a thing could be to him now. He must be walking the line between those who know who hired the mercenaries and those who can tell what he is very carefully indeed.

“My estimation was correct as I returned and they did not. It was not luck or coincidence and I’ll not discuss in maybes,” Dale adds at the end when it was clear Grandfather was going to add something more. “We are already here, now, and we are not discussing the actions already taken, but those yet to occur.”

Dale clears his throat and shifts in his chair before continuing when neither of his grandparents spoke, allowing him the time to do so, despite their misgivings. It was interesting to watch, and unlike many such discussions in your family, but perhaps the circumstances that were different here resulted in the older relatives not simply talking over the younger ones. “Those circumstances are clear: the attack was directed at me personally, the attack was a coordinated effort of fellow nobility, and they did not see Northridge as capable of defending herself from such threats. I have corrected them on the final point. They will be unprepared for such an eventuality and will need time to re-group and plan, as well as raise funds due to the amount paid in advance to the assassins. They will see the wedding as too distracting to us to move quickly now, which I am also subverting.”

“Most likely, they don’t even know that the assassins have failed,” you chime in with a glance at Dale, glad to have thought of something to add. Some of this you’d discussed with Dale the other night while you and the doctor bandaged him up. Unfortunately, since you’d been joined in the dressing room by the doctor and Dale’s valet, you’d not been able to continue your more private conversation. Since then, the only time you’ve been alone, have been short walks between meetings which has been the time to discuss much at all. “From what we overheard, it is unlikely that they had other team members. It will take time for their lack of communication and lack of success to reach their patrons—who might even think they simply took the money paid upfront and then left, if we’ve managed to keep word of the attack properly stifled. That confusion and uncertainty is something we can take advantage of as long as we are subtle.”

Dale is clearly trying for patience, but he’s also frustrated when his grandparents don’t seem particularly persuaded by these arguments. “We all agreed that keeping the news of this attack as quiet as possible and painting it as a minor event was for the best. Have either of you changed your minds regarding that decision?”

“No, of course not,” Grandmother replies, frowning.

She tries to continue speaking, but Dale continues instead, “Your primary resources are the full might of the law and those at your disposal in Northridge, your contacts in the realm of the law throughout the country and beyond, and your prior experience dealing with similar attacks during the height of your senate career.” Dale is exclusively addressing Grandmother at this point. “The majority of those resources would require bringing in a great deal more people and would undermine our decision to keep this attack quiet.”

“And my experience?” Grandmother asks, arching a brow.

“Which I have listened to extensively over the years,” Dale says, a mild tone of long-suffering grandchild in his voice, likely a mix of the original Dale’s familial condescension and his own exasperation given his personal greater experience. “As well as in the past few days as you recounted more details that had been omitted from the stories you told in my youth. If there is anything further you wish to share, please do so. However, throughout your tales, you worked exclusively with a small network of those loyal to you and involved only Grandfather in our family.” The implication that this is what Dale was doing by excluding them and including you was obvious.

“That is no reason not to share your strategy with us, Dale,” Grandmother says, disapprovingly. “My parents were unable to provide helpful advice in this arena, not in the manner your Grandfather and I can. I cannot recount every detail of every experience I have had. Sometimes the smallest details are most relevant and yet do not come to mind until the moment of connection is made. I cannot provide such insight if I am blinded.”

“I appreciate that,” Dale replies. “But the danger posed by making you a target, is greater in my mind than the value of that minute insight might afford. If I were struggling on my path of discovery and response, I would agree share further, but I am not.”

“And what of my resources?” Grandfather is agitated by Grandmother’s considering silence and at being ignored.

“My understanding of those you have at your disposal are primarily contacts for exorcists, demon hunters, mercenaries. Additionally, given the speed at which such lives are lost and won, I expect many are outdated. I mean no offense, but, you last actively utilized them over a decade ago. I think you certainly have solid relationships you could pull on that would steer you in the right direction to active members far quicker than the average person. But that it would still take time. And they are not who we need at this time. The assassins are all dealt with, I do not believe new individuals will be contracted with soon, and so the patrons are my focus.”

“I have contacts among the peers,” Grandfather says defensively. “Many who might have heard of who would use such an underhanded move such as this or who could discover such tactics. I am not so far removed from the game.”

“And this is the crux of the matter, is it not?” Dale’s frowning and for the first time in a long time, he reminds you of the old Dale. Your heart races with anxiety over his disapproval, even if it’s aimed at his grandparents and not you. You’d forgotten how much he’d made you nervous in the beginning, perhaps because this Dale makes you nervous too, but the difference in why has never been more stark.

This Dale worries you because of how much you still don’t know about him, about what he wants and what he plans. The conversation you were hoping to have that night never occurred, your time together interrupted by servants and doctors and Grandfather. You haven’t been alone since, except for short spans in the halls, where anyone might overhear and so you are both careful to remain vague. The lack of clear communication has become a larger and larger source of frustration for you. Sometimes he makes you feel as if there is more at stake because you believe there is more to gain from his partnership.

That Dale had worried you because of what you did know of him, rather than how each new hint you discern for this Dale reassures you. The original Dale, his arrogance, his moods, his overconfidence, his heavy handed assumptions, and his temper—his clear ability to hold grudges—all caused worry and nervousness to creep through your veins.

And in the split second Dale reminds you all that, he also helps wash it away. Because it is so clear, that while he’s frustrated and displeased with this conversation, obviously tense from the subject and the line he has to walk regarding what he knows and needs to do with his grandparents, you are not afraid. Not of him.

He takes a deep breath, his stare intense, but his jaw unclenched, his hand open on the table. “I also have such contacts,” Dale points out. “Fresh contacts from my travels and time in court. I am the one who moved directly in these circles that the ones targeted me have come from. I am the one most able to deal with this threat. You must know that, even if it worries you.”

Grandmother frowns, but doesn’t look away. “I cannot approve of you keeping us out of this investigation, especially given my involvement already, but I do understand why you wish to, however much I wish I did not. None of my fears lie with your capabilities, my Dale.”

“I know,” Dale replies, leaning back in his chair. His arm moves to the armrest and the back of his hand brushes against your own, just a touch too strongly to not be deliberate. You startle a little at the pressure, enough that Dale retreats, his fingers curving around the end of the arm rest. You hasten to correct yourself, not able to explain that you were surprised, nothing more. Carefully, you place your hand on his forearm, fingers loosely wrapping around his wrist and giving a, hopefully, comforting squeeze. A reminder he’s not alone.

He continues to look at Grandmother, but he turns his arm over and you slide your hand into his. It's grounding in the same way your embrace had been and you’re all too pleased to be able to do so now. “However, I believe it to be the right move, the one with that will grant the greatest chance of success with the least complications. And I will stand by it.”

You look over to Grandmother and find her staring at your joined hands. Your instinct is to let go, like a child caught doing something naughty, but while your hand spasms, you’re able to calm your racing heart and keep your hold on Dale.

Grandfather opens his mouth with a frown, but Grandmother cuts him off, “Very well. We will let you handle this, for now. If another attack occurs, we will not be kept to the sidelines.”

“Understood,” Dale replies, but you can feel his relief in how his hand relaxes in your own.

“And the moment you believe that you can use our help, you must promise to ask for it,” Grandmother continues, not looking away to Grandfather who’s come to stand beside her.

Dale nods, but she continues to wait and you give him a look. He blinks in surprise before realizing what she wants. “I promise that if I believe further aid from you would be warranted, I will ask for it.”

“See that you do,” Grandmother says before her demeanor lightens, her smile nostalgic as she says, “You have grown so much, my boy.”

Dale looks startled. This time his hand twitches in yours. It's clear he has no idea what to say and so he merely nods, looking back down at his papers. He tries for casual as he replies, “Yes, well, that is what tends to happen.”

Grandmother’s smile only widens and Dale reaches with his free hand to straighten the papers. Something written catches his attention, though you’ve no idea what given his shorthand code. “Actually, I was hoping to get your opinions on one part of my investigation.”

“Of course,” Grandfather says gruffly, still obviously displeased with the turn the conversation took, but not enough to disagree with Grandmother.

“I would appreciate your impressions of the two primary candidates I have for one of the patrons,” Dale says after a glance at you. When you walked over with him to the study and discussed this part of the conversation. You shared your impression of three primary patrons, which he confirmed having received the same information from Two: the Duke, the knight, and the heiress. You have no thoughts on two of them but you did express your suspicion of the knight from Eastmont, due to both his animosity and his knowledge of demonics, which Dale agreed with.

Dale seemed to have his own suspicions about the heiress, but the Duke, he’d only been able to narrow down to a short list. Hopefully, not only would Grandmother and Grandfather be able to advise on who to look at first, but also should mollify them regarding Dale more or less shutting them out of the rest of the investigation and action he planned to take against these conspirators.

“He was referred to as ‘the Duke’, which I believe to be literal,” Dale says. “Between that and the reference to gambling, I suspect either Duke Gaelole or Duke Karihas. Both I played at cards and won substantial amounts from, though of course no cheating was needed on my part.”

Grandmother cackled. “I taught you too well, sweetheart. I am also surprised that those two are still playing as they did.”

You’ve only heard these names and not had any personal interaction with either of them. It begins to get harder to follow certain family connections, when not bragged about, and so it's possible you went to school with a grandchild of one of them. That’s likely the only connection you could have had, sheltered as you had grown up.

“Duke Karihas,” Grandfather rubs his chin as he speaks. “He is arrogant, too fond of the drink and I can only guess, more susceptible to it than before. However, it is not his style to hold grudges. His memories tend to fade quickly with time, no matter the size of his losses. His children fund such vices these days as he still breaks even more often than not. Duke Gaelole on the other hand…”

“He plays the gallant and generous lord, but in truth, he would gut his own grandson in an alley over disrespect or a lost bet,” Grandmother pronounced. “He plays the amiable host, the graceful loser on those rare occasions he loses, but he is cold as a fish and as ruthless as a demon.”

“I had thought, even though the loss was smaller, that he might be the true enemy,” Dale admits, the frown deepening on his face. “There were repeated losses and he grew both more charming and more insistent as time wore on for rematches. There was a look in his eyes when I finally refused to play anymore hands and collected my winnings. A dangerous one.”

You wonder how the original Dale’s memories appear to him now. You wonder how he grew to learn how to read human expressions. You hope this Dale isn’t inclined to gamble, no matter what skills Dale used to possess. You feel now is not the time to bring such a matter up, but you feel buoyed that you likely will try to discuss it with him, because you feel you can.

“He’s got deep pockets, Dale,” Grandfather warned. “And he does not hesitate to dip into them as he pleases. He’s notorious for holding grudges and acting on them. Notable careers ended or reputations ruined, if he so desired. Tread very carefully with him.”

“I understand,” Dale replies gravely. He looks back and forth between them. “All I ask is that you allow me to take the lead on this matter and to trust that if I can use your assistance, I will ask for it. I know you would wish to do the same. Trust I would not put my faith in empty pride if I truly did not feel I had the resources required to bring these enemies of our family to rest.”

“I do not like this,” Grandfather says. “I do not think it is necessary.” His shoulders slump, ever so slightly, “But I would do the same, and have done so in the past.”

“You have a year or until another attack,” Grandmother warns, “before we act, with or without your leave. It is only in consideration of your determination and persuasion that I allow you this freedom to deal with the threat as you will.” Unexpectedly, her eyes find yours, “And I also trust that you are not conducting your investigation alone. That you are involving your soon to be spouse as well.

“Yes, Grandmother,” Dale replies dutifully, you echoing him only a beat behind. He smiles at you in response, resting his hand over your own and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Pardon my intrusion, my lords, my ladies.” You turn to see Grandfather’s valet opening the door to come in. “In addition to alerting you that it is time to begin preparing for this afternoon’s gala, I also have a letter.”

“Our thanks for the reminder,” Grandfather says. “Who is the letter for?”

His valet walks over to you, rather than any Northridges. “It is addressed to the family, but to my lady’s attention.”

You accept the letter, frowning at the handwriting of the address. It doesn’t look familiar and you’re not expecting any mail. Are you? After these past couple days, anything unexpected makes you nervous. You quickly break the plain seal, wanting to get past this new tension as soon as possible. The message inside is short and in a hand you do recognize. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Dale asks, leaning closer and clearly as on edge as you had been. “Is something amiss?”

“Oh, nothing like that. My family has arrived.” You don’t know why the thought is so foreign, so disconcerting. And yet everything that has happened in these whirlwind days seems so far removed from your life before Northridge, that your family seems like an unexpected intrusion. You knew that they had to be arriving before the wedding ceremony, but Mother had said travel was more unpredictable than she’d expected and hadn’t been able to provide an estimate for their arrival. “They will be joining us at the gala tonight.”

[Part Twenty-Six]

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princeasimdiya12 · 1 month

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Return to Nyan Nyaight Love-A Happy Ending in Sight?

Before I begin my analysis for Episode 9's NNL segment, I would like to thank everyone who reblogged my previous post and left kind and wholesome compliments about my analysis. It really warms my heart that so many of you guys enjoyed my thoughts on these segments. Especially if they helped provide a clearer understanding of what thematic purpose they serve in the Bucchigiri series. I'm more than happy to help and I appreciate the compliments.

Secondly, I'd like to thank @saph-yells-into-the-void for providing a majority of screenshots for me to use. Even though you didn't mind not being credited, you still deserve it for these great screenshots!

So just as a quick recap, the NNL segments serve as a Greek Chorus as they parallel the main story of Bucchigiri by using the customer's relationship with Jasmine to symbolize various relations and plot events. This time, their relationship parallels the main relationship of the series: Arajin and Matakara.

Episode 9: A Heartfelt Reunion

The segment starts with the customer being nervous as usual about whether he should go in, only to hurry inside as to avoid being spotted by Arajin who's on his way to the bathhouse. The customer is greeted by the receptionist who is still uneasy with him avoiding Jasmine. And even the customer himself looks less indecisive and more somber when he's asking for Pu'er instead of Jasmine.

As I mentioned in the Episode 1 segment, the customer is meant to symbolize Arajin while the catboy receptionist represents the colorful delinquents that Arajin encounters. And even though the first episode had Jasmine stand in for Mahoro, this time she stands in for Matakara.

The receptionist describes Jasmine as being strong-willed, clingy, and too much at times. Many of which are traits that are associated with Matakara.

-While Episode 9 shows him slowly succumbing to Ichiya's twisted therapy sessions, it's worth noting that it's been several days since when he first merged with the Blue Genie til then. So it's worth noting that Matakara lasted a good while before succumbing to Ichiya's will. And even before that, it was his strong will that helped him become stronger and find a place among Minato Kai while also evading the shadows that constantly haunted him. His determination in becoming stronger helped him to evade those shadows; maybe not vanquish them but not to succumb to them either.

-The clingy and too much at times qualities seem to go hand in hand as most of Matakara's screentime has been spent trying to reconnect with Arajin while holding him on a pedestal. Even as Arajin kept pushing him away, Matakara still clinged on to his idealized version of his best friend. One who constantly inspired him to be a Honki person and do the impossible. The too much at times part also works since Mataraka just wouldn't stop gushing over Arajin to his other friends or tries to force Mahoro to talk with him about Arajin and his involvement in Siguma Squad. While is very much a sunshine puppy boy, he can be quite overbearing when it comes to his old friend.

As of the last episode, Arajin made his true feelings for Matakara painfully clear and how he wants to avoid him at all costs. Only now the rest of the cast have taken notice and how much it's effecting Matakara given his refusal to talk to his other friends Zabu and Sakigake mixed with him running away from home. It's become a serious problem and they're all worried about him.

Something peculiar about the receptionist's behavior, and the whole scene overall, is how it's played for dramedy.

The receptionist treats the customer abandoning Jasmine as something tragic and how badly it's effecting her. There's soft music at play as the receptionist speaks his heart out about the cat's distress and how only the customer can help her.

But at the same time, it's just so ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous! There's no reason that the receptionist should need to be so invested in the customer's preferences in cats. They haven't actually bonded with each other apart from letting the customer in so he can spend time with the cats and spend Lord knows how much money. This is his job so it shouldn't matter which cat some random, pathetic everyman chooses to play with since he's still getting paid rather handsomely at the end of the day.

But it does matter to him.

Maybe (as far as we know) the receptionist doesn't know the customer very well but he (supposedly) knows that Jasmine truly misses him and is miserable without him. The receptionist could try to make Jasmine feel better herself given that he sees her more often and knows more about her. But he knows that she holds the customer in his heart and implores him to go back to her.

And while the Minato Kai boys don't care much for Arajin or flat out tell Arajin to patch things up with Matakara, they do make it clear that their friend isn't doing so well after their falling out. He's in need of help and they unfortunately can't do anything about it given how they were brushed aside. And even Mahoro, who also happens to be a colorful character that Arajin met when he entered the Ichizu gang life, has also picked up on Mataraka's despair and wants him to feel better. She clearly doesn't care for Arajin but she knows how much he means to Matakara, someone who understands her when it comes to valuing an older brother figure. She even flat out orders Arajin to go see how he's doing.

Something to consider is that while the Minato Kai boys and Mahoro have their respective but serious scenes with Arajin, they still have their quirky (questionable in Mahoro's case) personalities at play. Such as Sakigake singing his heart out in the bathhouse with Arajin while in his birthday suit to Mahoro having a tea party with a blow up doll of her big brother before learning about Matakara's brother. They're still weird and silly but they show how much heart they have and how they can empathize with someone who's at their lowest. And while they might not be the best person to help out, they know that Arajin is the best person to help them out.

Just like how the customer is the best person to help out the upset cat. And what does he choose when he's asked a second time?

He loses his mopiness for just a moment, becomes slightly more confident and chooses his precious Jasmine. Much to the receptionist's jubilation.

I'm gonna be leaning on the optimistic side and say that this will foreshadow Arajin reconciling with Matakara.

As much as I find Arajin to be a detestable and disappointing human being, I will admit that he is capable of growth. Particularly with bonding with his old childhood friend.

Right after defeating Akutaro, we see Arajin help out a grievously wounded Matakara while mildly complaining about it. We see them being on speaking terms during the Pro Wrestling Episode and Arajin even took the time to teach him how to make gyoza. Not to mention that Arajin was also willing to stick around for Mitsukuni's Welcome Party. The guy is not a good person (ESPECIALLY towards women) but he is capable of becoming better. Maybe at a snail's pace, but it's possible.

And we see those glimpses of growth in Episode 9 with him secretly admitting that there was one person (Matakara) who actually would like his rock for a gift.

So I want to be an optimist and say that Arajin will be able to save Matakara from his despair and they'll reconcile. Maybe accepting that he took Matakra's feelings for granted and how he should have treated his former friend better. How he was acting like a dunderhead and how he doesn't expect to be forgiven after treating him like yesterday's trash. I don't know if the puppy boy will forgive and accept Arajin again so quickly after everything that's happened (it actually would make for an impressive writing choice if Matakara chose not to accept him right away but with their being hope that they'll be friends in the future) but their relationship status will be a hopeful one.

Random Thoughts

When the receptionist brought up how the customer has seen other cats, I had two thoughts in mind. The first is from the Group Date til now, the customer has seen other cats at NNL apart from Pu'er.

The second is that this could be an implied parallel to Ichiya. I don't have enough information since we don't know much about Honki People and the Pasts of the Two Genies, but it's possible that Ichiya has encountered other masters in the thousands of years from when he was human to the present. The other cats could have been masters that Ichiya encountered and tried to possess to take revenge against Senya. But as the receptionist claims, Jasmine kept waiting for the customer. In this case, Jasmine was Senya. Ichiya's oldest friend who still longs to see and reunite with him after so many years of separation and regret.

Another thing I want to bring up is how conclusive this segment feels. It feels like it was wrapping up the plotline between the customer and Jasmine. I find this odd since this happened in Episode 9 and we supposedly have three more episodes before Bucchigiri is officially over. Does that mean we won't get more NNL segments in the final 3? Or will we still get them but in different formats? Like an epilogue of the customer bonding with Jasmine (along with getting an official reveal of who she is) or maybe we get a new customer who's set up to meet another cat potentially foreshadowing a final plot point in the series.

And those would be my thoughts on this segment. No lie, I did not expect this to be this long. But given how conclusive this NNL segment was, I felt there was alot to say about this. And what did you guys think of this segment? As before, feel free to reblog this if you agree with what I wrote, disagree or have another interpretation for this scene. So if you think of something, please say that you know.

"Do you know? Do you know? Do you know what this means?"

#bucchigiri?!#bucchigiri #arajin tomoshibi #matakara asamine #mahoro jin #zabu kakeru #komao sakigake #ichiya #senya #greek chorus #character analysis #anime #eddy's posts #Nyan nyaight love #the receptionist #the customer

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