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empyreva · 3 months

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Loser's Spoils

Summary: Luke usually loves treating you like his own little goddess, but after you cost him a game of capture the flag...he wants to change things up.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: Established relationship, Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader (not that important), Mean!Luke Castellan, smut, P in V, PWP, oral sex (m and f), fingering, dom/sub elements, slight dubcon (always check in with your partners!!), kink exploration, slapping, some degradation (and praising)

A/N: Shameless indulgence. I tried to stick to this audio as best as I could but I think that in teen/ya relationships, holding a more serious dom/sub dynamic is a little harder so Luke is super good at making sure you're ok because it's all new to him too...Minors DNI!!

Other campers were quick to dodge out of your and Luke's paths, sensing that he would not hesitate to body-check them if they didn't. A cloud of wrath (with a tinge of humiliation) seemed to engulf your boyfriend--They knew better than to question it at all, scurrying back to do whatever chores and tasks they had been mildly interrupted from before.

Before you knew it, Luke had dragged you into your cabin, looking around for any of your, as he put it, 'overly pretentious' siblings. Aphrodite's cabin was empty, much to his delight, and he dragged you into the bathroom with a loud SLAM of the door. Once inside, he let go of you with a slight push, seeming to not pay you any mind as he fussed about the area.

"Luke, what the fuck?" You hissed, rubbing your now tender arm as Luke propped one of the vanity chairs beneath the door knob to ensure no one would be able to accidentally wander in. It was a good precaution--Three too many of your sisters now can't even look at him without becoming almost visibly upset. "What's your problem today?"

"Don't act like you don't know, baby," Luke turned around with a dark look in his eyes, causing you to gulp back any further questions. "You've hurt my feelings today, y'know? First by not joining my team...and then by winning because you know I couldn't hurt my pretty little girl--acting all brave and jumping in to protect that twerp of an Apollo kid."

"Baby, it's just a game..." You reached up to caress his tense jaw, his facade faltering for a split second as he took in your soft touch, "I mean, they just needed another player--that kid is literally like 11 so-" Luke cut off your sentence by roughly pushing you against the vanity counter behind you--glass bowls and organizers full of various makeup products rattling from the force. His hands planted at either side of you, hips flushed to yours.

"I. Don't. Care," he growled. A whimper escaped your throat, feeling something hard pressing against you--growing in size with every breath that your boyfriend took. "You were disloyal, you won, you know that drives me crazy."

"'m sorry," you mumbled, trying your best to bat your long lashes at him, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. This was a common occurrence between the two of you--You 'defeating' the 'best swordsman' just by distracting him enough to let your teammates finish up the game. How could he even raise his sword at a girl like you, batting your lashes and pouting so cutely as a kid scurried off behind you? Even if he seemed mad about losing, losing to you drove him up the wall with desire—I mean, it always ended in Luke making you scream his name until your throat went hoarse, anyway. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Yeah, you will," there was a glint of something sinister in Luke's eyes that unnerved you. It was like you were a piece of meat dangling before a starved wolf, just waiting to be devoured. "I'm not gonna let you off easy this time, baby. No, no...You need to be taught a proper lesson." He glared down at you, but his hand grasped yours gently, thumbing circles against your knuckles. "Ok? Now on your knees."

Obediently, you lowered yourself to the ground, hands in your lap as Luke discarded his belt and cargos quickly. His cock was already dripping with pearls of precum--and you couldn't help yourself as you eagerly took him in your mouth. Your head bobbed unhurriedly as you savored every inch of his hard cock, taking pleasure in the way his hips thrust forward instinctively. He liked it when you took your time, swallowing him whole and gagging. You moaned deeply, feeling his hand brush lightly against the nape of your neck, urging you to slow down.

"Shhh... Look at me," he commanded sternly. His voice was low and gravelly, making your insides quiver. You hesitated briefly before meeting his gaze fully, watching intently as he gazed intently into your soul. There was a fierceness in his expression that sent chills down your spine, and you knew that he meant business. His fingers traced your hollow cheeks, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears, drinking in this image of you. "You look so cute, so adorable."

That comment flustered you more than the fact his dick was nearly halfway down your throat--and you immediately pulled back, words forming in your throat as the head of his cock brushed against your tongue. A fistful of your hair wrapped around Luke's hand, and he pushed your head until your nose was tickled by the curls of black hair at the base of his dick. "Shut the fuck up and look at me. Let me see my pretty girl."

Nearly, crossed-eyed, you stared up at Luke in a daze, nostrils flaring as you held back your urge to gag around him. He looked so handsome...a certain tortured look marred across his face as he contemplated whether he should cum down your throat while you clawed at his legs or if he should fuck you silly. Tough choice.

"I want to play with you," he finally decided aloud, releasing you from his cock, letting you gasp for air. It didn't last long, though, because Luke was quick to roughly pull you back onto your feet, a strong hand gripping your jaw. You gulped and heaved, daring not to move as Luke pressed up against you, eyes inspecting your flushed and sloppy face. It was just so kissable, his poor little baby.

His tongue slipped into your mouth before you knew it, and your hands reached up to grab at his curls--pulling him deeper. A collection of quiet moans filled the bathroom, bouncing off the marble floors and pristine white walls. After a few minutes, Luke pulled away cheeks red and burning, staring down at you.

"Take your pants off, just the pants," he commanded, giving you just enough room to fumble with the button of your bottoms. After nervously missing the hole a few times, you were able to slide them off, kicking them to the side. You resisted the urge to rub your thighs together, instead choosing to look haphazardly at the floor. "Good girl, now look at me."

You faltered, maybe from shyness or maybe from a sudden spark of rebellion, but your gaze remained pointed down at the space between you. Luke was stunned for a moment, tilting his head to the side before letting out a sarcastic chuckle.

"Look. At. Me."

Slap

Your gaze shot up, eyes wide as you began to register the sting radiating in your cheek before it dissipated. His slap wasn't too hard, more of a forceful pat. Eyes locking with yours, Luke seemed to be gauging your reaction, waiting for you to say the words that would have him begging for your forgiveness in a matter of seconds. They never came.

Slap

"I said look at me when I'm speaking to you."

Slap

Fuck okay, that one hurt a lot more. You let out a pained yelp, lip quivering as you tried to keep yourself steady.

Slap

Luke shushed you when you tried to cry out, frowning when you flinched away from his hand--now he was just trying to caress your cheek. A small wave of regret washed over him, and a tightness in his chest pulled tighter. "Come here, it's ok," he beckoned, drawing you into a hug. You buried your face in his chest, biting back whimpers as he reassured you that you were a good girl and you were so brave and so strong for him.

"Are you ok, baby?" He whispered into your hair, wanting to know before continuing. Nodding slowly, you pulled back to look at him with misty but loving eyes, a small smile stretching across your lips.

"I trust you, you know that." Luke was a man of many curiosities, so you were somewhat acclimated to his sudden changes in wants and needs during sex--even if albeit a bit shocking at first. But deep down, you knew that he would rather stab himself with backbiter a million times rather than force you into anything.

"Love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The two of you stayed quiet for a second, Luke touching you wherever he so pleased as you fell compliant under his touch. His fingers found yours, bringing one hand up to daintily kiss the back of it--a mischievous grin appearing as you met his gaze. In a split second, his hand was in your hair, tugging your head back sharply, earning a hiss in response.

"Shhh...it's ok, it's ok, baby," Luke's lips trailed down your cheek, ghosting over your neck before planting a few rougher kisses. You whimper, feeling his teeth sink into the tense skin, surely leaving a mark as he suckled and nipped. "Shh, we don't want people to hear us. Don't we?" Luke taunted you with his own deep moan, now moving onto his third mark--pulling away to look at you when he was sure your neck was going to be a nasty shade of 'Luke Purple' tomorrow morning.

"Spread your legs," he murmured, watching intently as you complied--shifting your ass and hips so that your soaking wet panties were on full display. You bit your lip shyly as Luke inhaled sharply, studying the way your squished-up belly rose and fell, the way you seemed to tremble just a little more when he took a step closer. "Good girl--You look so cute."

He grabbed your throat, forcing you to look up at him, shushing you softly, "I know, I know, It's ok, I know, shh--" A smirk danced across his face before he leaned in, kissing you deeply, fingers feeling how wet you really were. "You're so fucking wet, aren't you embarrassed, slut?" In a quick movement, his open palm collided with your clothed pussy--sending shockwaves through your body. "Shhh...Put your hand over your mouth. Be quiet, be quiet for me."

You shakily raised your hand to your mouth, chewing on the flesh of your middle as another slap morphed into a gentle stroke. "Are you gonna be quiet for me? Tell me. Tell me."

"Y-Yes, Luke," you mumbled from behind your hand. His nostrils flared as his name bounced off your tongue, such a sweet sound. "I'll be quiet for you."

"Good girl--now shut the fuck up." Luke continued to shush you as he pulled the thin cloth of your panties to the side, thumbing over your clit and dipping between your slickening folds. "Sit up there, back against the wall. Now. Good Girl. Shhh--Spread your legs for me, good girl. Just a little more, good job."

Your sizzling hot skin left behind foggy marks on the mirror behind you as you leaned back--the coolness of the glass doing little to ease the fire inside of you. A slick layer of sweat spread across your body, pooling at the small of your back. Luke continued his teasing touches, evading your pussy and instead stroking the tender flesh beside it until you squirmed. You were breathing too loudly.

"Do you want me to touch you, baby? Then be fucking quiet, ok?" The fake sweetness left an uncomfortable pit in your stomach--but it was quickly forgotten as Luke's deft fingers circled your clit, moving in all the right ways. He knew your body too well, like the back of his hand. "This is all mine. My girl, so cute," he purred, pushing up your shirt and bra in one motion, mouthing at one of your tits as he shifted his forearm. Fingers abandoning your clit, two of them slipped between your folds--teasing and brushing over your hole before abruptly plunging inside with a curl.

"You like this, yeah? Shhh--" The pace was inhuman, the sound of your wet pussy squelching around his fingers growing louder. "You look so pretty."

You threw your head back, trying to swallow back your whimpers and moans, hips rolling into Luke's touch. Gods, you didn't even realize how much stamina he had with how he plunged his fingers inside of you without even a slight change in pace. "Shut the fuck up, let me take care of you, it's ok, I promise. I promise baby," his cooing was mocking, each word dripping with a promise of something even more sinister than the tortured ministrations at hand. "I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard. Aww, I can see it in your eyes, you want it so badly, yeah?"

"Please," you couldn't stop the words from coming out of you, and Luke was quick to silence you. At this angle, you could see his biceps flexing, the way his shoulders tensed and released--it was like a daydream. His free fist wrapped around your neck, causing you to choke on air as you struggled to swallow and gasp.

"Shh, try to be quiet, shh. Gods you're so fucking wet, you look so pretty." Somehow, he managed to up the speed even more--your toes curling and legs clamping down on his forearm as it flexed and strained to keep pleasuring you. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you? Say it, say it."

"Y-yes, yesyesyesyes," you cried out, only for Luke to squeeze your neck even tighter. "So close, please--" He shushed you, lips smashing against yours until your teeth clanked together in the frenzy. Tears welled and spilled your eyes from the mounting pressure in your belly, so close but so fucking far--He knew just how to play you. A flicker of concern came and went from Luke's eyes, and he pressed his body closer to yours, the fabric of his old camp shirt tickling your skin.

"Shh, I know, you're freaking out, I know," Luke pressed his lips to your tear-stained cheek, "Calm down, I know, I know. I'm just fingering you, it's ok." You could hear the faintest 'Don't cry' come out with his next breath, but you honestly couldn't be certain. His hand moved up and gripped your jaw tightly, squeezing it until you couldn't help but protest the pain--prompting him to silence you with his mouth. Tongues battling, his fingers slowed their dangerous pace, coming to a gentle stroke against your fluttering walls. A bridge of saliva kept the two of you connected, pulling tight like a tension wire before snapping as Luke took a step back to admire his work. "You're so pretty--Y'want me to pet your pretty clit, yeah?"

You nodded eagerly, trying to form the right words to scream 'Yes please!' but Luke cut you off with a harsh shush as his thumb came in contact with your puffy clit. It felt like a spell was cast over you, the way you couldn't peel your eyes off of Luke's face--his eyebrows furrowed as he worked you closer and closer to your much-needed release. Your gaze was obvious, and Luke gave you a wicked grin, quickening the pace of his deft fingers until you had to choke back your whines with a bite to your knuckle.

"This is my pussy and anyone else who tries to fuck it will never be as good as me. No one will ever measure up to me, understand me?" Luke growled, curling his fingers just right so they brushed and stroked against that special spot deep within you. You couldn't help your reaction, hips bucking and chasing your orgasm that Luke just kept skirting you away from.

"Fuck, ff-fuck, Luke-"

"Shhh, calm down. I know, baby, I'm the only one who can fuck you like this, I know. Say it,” he taunted, a Cheshire grin beaming up at your half-lidded eyes. A dumb nod came naturally, but he tutted and pursed his lips in a sense of disappointment. “I said 'Say it'."

"Y-You're nghhh the o-only w'can fuck m'this way," you whimpered, weepy doe eyes looking up at him for approval. It was wholly pathetic; the tears trailing down your cheeks, the way you could barely even breathe, the way you just had so much love and adoration for the boy in front of you—denying you your release and ruining you. "Please Luke, please fuck me."

"Gods, you're such a good girl, d'y'know that?" Luke groaned, slipping his fingers out of you much to your dismay. He shushed your whiney protests, dry fingers wrapping around your throat, his thumb threatening to press down on your windpipe. “Love how you beg for me.” He was so much stronger than you, so much bigger, so fucking powerful. Two slick-covered fingers made their way up to your mouth, and you eagerly accepted them with a low moan. "That's so good, baby. Keep sucking yourself off my fingers like a little slut, yeah?"

Your pink, wet tongue licked at his two digits like one would a popsicle on a hot summer day. Drool mixed with your juices on his fingers as you gagged around them, low moans threatening to spill over. It was sloppy, your soft moans vibrating his fingers as you made eye contact with your boyfriend, needing his approval. He smiled, releasing your throat so he could knead into the flesh of your thigh, his touch hot and needy. Distracted with the show you were giving Luke, it was too late before you realized just how close his cock was to your pussy—

"Ahh—W-wait, Luke," you cried out as he slammed into you, his dick sliding down to the hilt without warning. Your pussy clenched and spasmed as you tried to adjust to the size of him, hips squirming. He didn't even stop for a second, picking up a fast and dizzying pace, fingers still hooked in your mouth. Gods, he was drilling into you so hard and it just felt so good--

"Shut the fuck up, shut up, I don't care," Luke growled, his voice heavy with need. Despite his cruel words, there was an underlying tenderness in his touch, and you could feel the intensity of him growing more fervent and unhinged with each passing second. His moans filled the room, sounds that you were only ever allowed to hear. Squelches and slaps and the sickest, wettest, most depraved noises intoxicated you--And every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot within you, you couldn't help but let out a choked cry, struggling to remain silent.

"Shut your pretty fucking mouth and be fucking quiet," he demanded, his tone laced with desperation. You gave him a weak nod, but his attention was already drawn away as he changed his angle to have a little more leverage. Moans and whines dripped from Luke's tongue like honey, oozing through the room and straight down to your clenching core. His hips swung and snapped against yours, a steady and rough pace keeping you on the tip of your toes. "I'm trying to be quiet but your pussy just feels so goddamn good,” well that was just a flat-out lie at the sheer volume that he even said it. “Does my cock make you forget all your manners?" You nodded without even thinking, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath.

"Fuck yeah," he muttered roughly, his breath hot against your cheek. You swore you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. "You want me to go faster?" he huffed, his breathing ragged. "Fuck you harder?" His voice was cracking and straining, his teeth clenching as he tried to hold back his whines and whimpers.

Without waiting for a response, he increased his pace, grinding against you with a fierce intensity. His hands dug tightly into your hips as he pulled you closer to him, moving your body for you like all you were was some fucktoy for him to use and abuse. Choking softly on his own breaths, he fucked you harder and deeper, his rhythm becoming increasingly frantic—face buried in the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but wrap an arm around him, the other keeping you stable on the counter as he rutted and bucked into you, pulling him close to you. "Luke," you breathed out, "calm, baby."

"No no no, it’s ok, shh," his voice was trembling, fighting back a moan at just hearing you say his name so sweetly. It seemed like it was more of a reminder for him less than you, to try and keep his composure for just a few minutes more. He never wanted this to end. You guided his face to look up at you, his eyes lost behind his sweaty black curls, but his lips didn't fail to connect with yours. Nipping at his bottom lip, you moaned into him--a gesture he reciprocated eagerly. He couldn't even pull away, letting out a muffled, "'m so fuckin' close, baby. Wan' you t'cum on me--fuck, cum on my cock, baby."

“Mmmm so close,” you moaned in agreement, rolling your hips to meet his. “Please touch me, Luke.” You didn’t have to ask twice, his fingers shooting down to the junction where the two of you were connected. A rough pad dragged across your clit—rubbing almost as frantically as his hips slammed into you, your head dropping back in pure ecstasy. You were so fucking close, so close, just a little more…

He didn't scold you for how loud you were getting, he didn't even falter when your thighs began to shake and your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders until the skin broke. And he didn't stop—fucking you right through your orgasm, feeling your walls spasming around his cock, how your legs drew him in closer. Stuttered words of encouragement flooded from his mouth, but most were swallowed up and lost amongst his needy moans and grunts. His pace became erratic, shoving you back hard as one hand braced the wall and the other clawed into your hip. You yelped and shuddered, all of the stimulation crashing down on you at that moment as your pussy twitched, weeping for Luke.

“Hah-ah, fffuucckk,” Luke whimpered into your ear, hips stuttering for half a second. "'m g'na mmmm...ahh--" He dropped his facade entirely, no longer trying to hide how his voice went 3 octaves whenever he came, eyebrows pinched together to stop himself from just melting away into the floor. The heat of him coated your walls, struggling to fit inside of you with him still taking up most of the tight space. His lips trembled as he tried his best to regain some composure, rutting his hips into you deeply once more--just to feel all of you. You whined in return, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he continued to pump into you slowly.

“Look so fucking pretty right now,” he whispered, slowing his hips to a halt after a long, torturous minute. His lips found yours, muffling your groan as he pulled out of you—the sudden emptiness was always a disappointment. You would keep him inside you all the time if it was up to you. To make matters worse, he freed himself of your iron grip, pulling away from your lips with a heavy panting shaking his chest.

It was like seeing a goddess' true form for the first time--the way your soft tummy rose and fell with each of your breaths, your lips parted and covered in drool and saliva, knees bent, toes curled as you posed there; your abused, cum-filled pretty little pussy spread open like the forbidden fruit that Tantalus could only dream of tasting. You looked like a fucking masterpiece.

Silent, Luke sank to his knees, lost in the sight of you for only a second before hooking his arms around your thighs--dragging your ass to the end of the vanity. His flat tongue ran from bottom to top, collecting your mixed releases with a certain gentleness. You whimpered as his tongue pressed and swirled around your clit, the sensations of your last orgasm still not fully settled yet. "You are such a good girl," Luke murmured between licks. "You are so pretty, you look so fucking cute, you're adorable."

His dark eyes looked up to meet yours, locking in as he suckled and lapped at your core. With hesitation, you reached out a hand gingerly, finding a tuft of curls to reside in--earning a purr of approval from your boyfriend.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispered, suddenly pulling his mouth off of you so he could press a gentle kiss to the junction of your thigh and pelvis. His eyes glanced up to peer at you--seeing your gentle smile made his heart flutter and grow three sizes. A soft trail of kisses made its way to your knee, his arms still supporting you, his nose nuzzling against the soft and damp skin. "You did so good today, I'm so fucking proud of you, baby."

"I know, Luke, I know. I'm proud of you too."

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson

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jeannineee · 4 months

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JJK men...dom, sub, or switch?

(ft. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami)

author's note: just a little drabble??? While I work on smau. might do the other boys too.

warnings: uh straight up SMUT. Too much stuff to list here.

Satoru Gojo: switch

Satoru Gojo, who is the biggest tease. He knows your body like the back of his hand--knows exactly where to touch you, what buttons to push in order to have you writhing beneath him.

"This is where you're weak, right? RIght here?"

Satoru Gojo, who will edge you to the point of tears, and then some. He's mean, really. Plump lips latched to your nipples, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he curls his fingers inside you so quickly that you can't catch your breath. He can tell when you're getting close through the way your moans grow louder, the way your walls pulse around him. And just when you're about to tip over the edge, he stops completely, a wicked grin forming on his face at the sight of your pouting, cock twitching in his pants at the sound of your begging.

"Doing so good f'me, pretty. Just a bit longer, alright?"

Satoru Gojo, who is desperate and needy the moment the roles are reversed. He'll do anything to hear your praise, to feel your touch. His brain turns to mush as soon as you wrap your hand around his cock, focused solely on the pleasure you're giving him.

"F-fuck, baby, please--please don't stop, so good, so good..."

Satoru Gojo, who loves hates when you overstimulate him. He's already so sensitive, hips bucking off the mattress as you relentlessly pump his cock, his abs tensed and painted white with strings of his release. He can hardly speak, the only noises escaping him being pathetic whines and half-hearted pleas as you work him through another orgasm.

"Ohhhh, fuck, I can't, b-baby, please. I'm cumming, I'm cumming..."

Suguru Geto: dominant

Suguru Geto, who, despite his seemingly laid-back and calm nature, is the complete opposite in the bedroom. He'll manhandle you into whatever position he wants--doggy is his favorite. He'll have one hand on your waist, keeping an almost bruising grip as the other hand wraps around your hair, pulling you flush against him.

"That's it, princess. Just a pretty little slut for me, hm? Taking me so well."

Suguru Geto, who loves having you on your knees for him. Making you stick your tongue out before tapping the head of his cock against it, reveling in the way your cheeks flush with embarassment. He'll let you take the lead at first, but if you allow him, he'll fist your hair into a ponytail, and use your throat like it's his personal toy.

"Such a good girl--fuck. 'S like you were made for my cock."

Suguru Geto, who will not put up with your attitude. He's normally so patient with you, so why would you be so snippy with him? Push him too far, and he'll have you over his knee before you can blink. He'll spank you till tears are streaming down your face, and then he'll put his fingers to use until the only word you know is "sorry."

"Can't take anymore? Oh? Why are you so wet, then? I've barely even started, lovey."

Kento Nanami: dominant

Kento Nanami, who uses you to rid himself of his pent-up frustration. His favorite way to do this is by having his tongue between your legs. Him, knelt in front of you, or you sitting on his face--he doesn't care. Either way, he's hooking his hands around your thighs, and sucking on your clit until you see stars.

"Taste so good, love. Just one more for me, okay? You can do it. I can never get enough of you."

Kento Nanami, who puts his tie to work in more ways than one. Sometimes, he'll blindfold you, rough and calloused hands tracing along your body until you're pleading for him to touch you where you need it most. Other times, he'll tie your hands behind your back, or above your head, and have his way with you.

"Fuck, you're so perfect. Squeezing me so tight. Gonna fill you up, yeah?"

Kento Nanami, whose mouth is uncharacteristically filthy compared to his composure outside of the bedroom. He won't degrade you. He couldn't imagine doing that to his sweet girl. But he loves to humiliate you; loves to see the way you avoid his gaze, as though you can hide from his words.

"Soaking through your panties, and I haven't even touched you yet. Is that all it takes, sweetheart? Don't hide from me. Let me see you."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #Satoru Gojo x reader #gojo x reader #Gojo smut #Satoru Gojo smut #Suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #Suguru geto smut #Kento Nanami x reader #Nanami x reader #Nanami smut #Kento Nanami smut #nanami headcanons #geto headcanons #gojo headcanons

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melbatron5000 · 2 months

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It's a 2-man Con

Listen, I think I know a thing.

When Aziraphale comes back from talking to the Metatron and is telling Crowley about being an angel, we've all heard the theory that he's speaking code, trying to ask for help. The more I look at that scene, the more that theory tracks.

Maybe less well-known is the theory that Crowley didn't miss a damn thing, he's answering in his own code. And again, the more I look at that scene, the more this also tracks.

(When my husband, annoyingly observant beloved partner that he is, saw the second season for the first time, he said, "That whole thing was a show for the Metatron. They have a plan. Crowley slipped something to Aziraphale when he kissed him." And I said, "Nah." But now I think he's right, and damn if he isn't smug.)

I'm gonna try to break down what I think they're saying here, because it takes just a hot minute to piece it together. I've been thinking this over for a couple of months now. I think I have most of it. I just don't know when Crowley puts whatever he's handing to Aziraphale in his own mouth. I need more eagle-y eyes, it seems.

First, Aziraphale comes back from his talk. He's pensive as he crosses the road, and anxious when he starts talking, and mouths "I need help!" as he's talking. He's acting like he does when he lies to the other angels, and once it's seen "I need help!" is pretty clear.

He does the whole thing about telling Crowley he could appoint him as an angel, like old times, but even nicer. It's all very uptight and not positive at all. My interpretation? "The Metatron is here, I think he knows we're up to something, we have to go to Heaven right now and put things right before he really does something awful to one or both of us. The time to spring the plan is NOW."

Crowley stares at him. At first it seems like he's staring in disbelief, but if you really look at his face, he's listening, hard, and interpreting as fast as he can:

He asks Aziraphale if he told the Metatron where he could stick it, then. My interpretation? "The plan has changed. I can't go with you to Heaven. You'll have to go alone."

Then Crowley starts his confession -- "We've spent our existence pretending we aren't."

Aziraphale looks at him -- not with shock, or surprise, or love, or hope, but with a "Why are you doing this now?" face. Not "Why did you wait til now to tell me, you love me, oh, I love you too!" But "Why are you telling me SOMETHING I ALREADY KNOW while our ENEMY IS LISTENING??" :

He's confused, but also listening and interpreting. What I'm hearing/seeing: I don't think this is a love confession from our demon. I think they are both well aware they love one another. They can't say it in so many words, and it's a secret from Heaven and Hell, but it's not a secret between them. I'm hearing Crowley set the scene. "The Metatron either wants us together in Heaven under control, or separated. I have things I have to do here or the plan won't work, so we'll have to separate. We need to make it look good. I do love you."

I don't think Aziraphale likes this change of plan. And Crowley can't detail why the plan has changed, not with the Metatron listening. So Aziraphale insists, come with me. The plan we had will work. Do it my way. Crowley says, "You can't leave this book shop." It's easy to interpret that as "You can't leave me," but I don't think it's that. He's saying something about the book shop being safe, or even that he can't leave without whatever they've hidden in the book shop. (I THINK THEY HID SOMETHING IN THE BOOK SHOP!) Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever." I hear him saying the book shop is no longer safe, and they have to move/take whatever they've hidden and they can't speak freely there anymore.

Crowley replies, "No I suppose it doesn't. Good luck." He's gotten that much, but he is still set on his "We need to fake a break up because I can't go with you."

Aziraphale still doesn't like that. "Come back! I need you!" He's scared. Whatever he has to do in Heaven is big, and scary, and he needs and wants Crowley with him. He does not want to go into the mouth of danger alone.

This is when we get, "No nightingales." What I'm hearing? ESPECIALLY since if you listen, you can hear a LARK sing as Crowley goes out the door? It's the line from Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare, whose plays they both enjoy, though Crowley prefers the funny ones. "It's too late, that's a lark singing the dawn, not a nightingale singing to the night, we have to part. Our happy ending isn't yet."

Then the kiss. I do not believe this is their first kiss. I don't believe they've allowed themselves many, maybe not even more than one, but I do think they've kissed before. I'm not sure when, but I suspect 1941. (Season 3, come ON!!)

And when they part, Aziraphale stops himself from saying "I love you," and instead says, "I forgive you." I'm hearing so many things in that "I forgive you." I forgive you for leaving me on my own, I forgive you for hurting my feelings like this, I forgive you for changing the plan without telling me, I forgive you because you are forgivable whatever anyone else says, I forgive you because that's what I said when we split up at the bandstand and everything was okay in the end and I hope hope hope that everything will be okay in the end this time too.

Crowley says, "Don't bother." I'm hearing, "yeah, I hope it's all okay, too. Wish me fuckin luck. My part will be hard, too."

And as Crowley leaves, Aziraphale mouths, "No." And we hear a lark sing. A lark, singing to the dawn, and so fair Romeo must away.

Just because the break up is a ruse, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and isn't hard. It has to look real, and so it's going to feel real, too. Ouch. :'(

And then Aziraphale touches his lips. Not once, but twice. My bad, he only touches his lips once. The first long second is pure emotion. "Why now, I hate this, I want that so badly and I can't have it."

After that, though --

After he pulls himself together a bit, he has a bulge in his cheek. He shifts his jaw to move whatever he has in his mouth to his lips, and then his first two fingers go stiff for a moment as he palms something right before he takes his hand away.

And then, this.

Edit to add: someone on Facebook asked me why a kiss to pass whatever Crowley gave to Aziraphale, why not palm it or drop it in his pocket?

My answers: 1. The kiss is a message. "We're still good, I still love you, I still want this." 2. The item is too important to be dropped in a pocket and hopefully found later. 3. The Metatron is paying WAY too close attention, and will definitely see them touch hands. Seeing a kiss and the angel rejecting the demon, though? Well, the demon forced that kiss on him, the angel didn't want it. Clearly the demon thinks this relationship is different than it is. It's a bigger gesture that sells the ruse. 4. Houdini's wife used to pass him the keys to his cuffs with a kiss before the show. This is a message that magic-loving Aziraphale WILL understand: here are the keys to your cuffs, sneaked to you by your beloved in plain sight.

That's it. That's what I got so far. I still have questions.

What did Crowley pass to Aziraphale? What's the plan? Why did it change? What does Crowley need to do that he can't go to Heaven again?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #final fifteen #ineffable divorce #good omens fan theory #2 man con #they have a plan #they played the metatron and we fell for it #the kiss

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jinnie-ret · 8 months

Text

scarred knees and insecurities

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments

word count: 2.7k

summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.

100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.

As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.

"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.

"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"

She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.

Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.

What's wrong with her knees

Ew but why do they look like that

Their knees look so old and wrinkly

Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural

Just another reason why she's ugly

Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.

Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is

Disgusting?

Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.

"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.

She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.

Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.

It was Hyunjin.

"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.

"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.

She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.

"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.

Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.

"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.

"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.

He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.

A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...

Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.

"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.

"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.

What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.

Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.

"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.

"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.

"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.

"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.

Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.

"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.

"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.

"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.

"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.

"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.

"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.

"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.

Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.

Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.

"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.

But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.

"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.

"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.

"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.

"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.

One second.

One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.

Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.

"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.

"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.

It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.

"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.

"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.

"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.

They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.

Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.

Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.

"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.

Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.

"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.

"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.

"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.

"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.

"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.

"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.

"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.

"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.

"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.

"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.

"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.

"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.

"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.

"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.

"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.

"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.

"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.

"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.

"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.

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thegnomelord · 3 months

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for some comfort for hound:

with makarov he would shower in record time under cold water, harshly scrubbing away blood when makarov wanted him clean.

not long after being rescued price notices this, how quickly you wash yourself and, if you let him, when he touches your skin it’s cold to the touch afterwards. so price decides to spoil you like a pampered poodle and not like the fighting dog you are were.

he either draws you a bath or joins you in the shower, making sure the water is warm as price washes you, lathering your body with frothy soap, gently wiping away grime on your body and tracing all your new scars even lighter. eventually he rinses you off and massages shampoo into your hair, fingers scratching across your scalp and your guard begins to drop, body relaxing slightly and when you get out you even let price dry you off. you crawl into bed and price’s heart feels like breaking when he tucks you into his side and you hold onto him like he’ll disappear through your fingers, but he doesn’t plan on going anywhere

HFIEUDHFBKSUDEJ y'all are just putting more and more worms into me brain with these ideas! God I am so stealing this idea, just Hound getting to feel some comfort for once.

Idk where this would be in the timeline, maybe after Hound has gotten away from Makarov for good or at some point during rehab where he's getting better but before Makarov comes to take his dog back

CW: NSFW nonsexual nudity, fluff, me rambling a bit, very rough

With Makarov it was always a question how he wanted you. Sometimes he wanted you to take him as you were, blood drying and cracking along your skin, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your body from how drenched they are in crimson. Other times he wouldn't let a single drop of it touch him, and you'd be allowed to wash yourself for as long as it took him to fully disrobe, leading to you developing the habit of scrubbing your skin raw under cold water to save time.

You've grown used to it, it's one of the few constants in your life. You bite back a scathing word when Price touches your cold skin, seemingly not pleased with how cold your skin is. "Come here son." His voice is soft, calloused hand even softer as it wraps loosely around your wrist, tugging you along to the bathroom.

You know you have to resist, your should resist— your muscles tense beneath your skin, heart beating loud and fast against your ribs, the violence in your skull starting to gnaw on your brain — but something stops you, wraps around your mind like a heavy blanket and you don't notice how you let him disrobe you, watching him dumbly as he fills the tub with soapy water.

Your shoulders hunch as you sit in the tub. The warm water makes your skin prickle with disgust. Your eyes close when his hands rub gentle circles into your back, lightning rushing down your spine when the sponge makes contact with your skin. But you force yourself to weather this, to endure; god, when was the last time you felt warm water on you?

"What's on your mind lad?" Price's voice rumbles in your ears like the purr of some large cat. "You're pouting."

You grit your teeth, unable to look at him so you watch the soap bubbles in the water pop. "I am not pouting." You growl, your lip twitching to bare your teeth, but a few more swipes of the sponge along your spine makes your lips fall in a frown.

"sure you're not." Price chuckles, meticulous as he gently scrubs across your skin, careful not to aggravate the healing wounds. The tension in your shoulders slowly melts away like the first thaw of spring, small shivers racking down your spine. You don't understand why, but every gentle swipe of the sponge makes the collar sitting snuggly around your throat more and more constructive.

No- it's wrong, you're a bad dog for feelingg this way, you can't feel this way, you're not allowed to-

A low and pitiful sound escapes your throat, and just as quickly your attention is grabbed by gentle hands rubbing soap into your hair. "It's alright son." Price's nails scratch your scalp, evenly coating every strand with soap. "I got you." Your hair's been growing out from the cropped hairstyle Makarov likes on you, it makes you cringe. (Cropped like a working dog's ears get cropped or something idk)

You don't notice when you start to lean into his hands, the soothing scratch of his nails and the gentle hold of his palm cradling the back of your skull lulling you into a state of calm. Your eyes close as he pours water down your hair, careful not to get any soap into your eyes.

"Come on, stand up for me, that's a good boy." He praises as you rise, rivulets of water running down your skin. His gentle hands guide you to bend down so he can reach your head, drying your hair and then the rest of you. Something like acid burns in your muscles, your body screaming at you for letting Price touch you when you belong to Makarov. But your ears feel like they're stuffed full of cotton, the warmth of the water lingering in your brain you don't think when he gives you fresh clothes, just mindlessly putting them on and letting him move you where he wants.

A stagnant breath escapes you when you lay down in the bed, the covers and pillow too soft for a thing like you. Your bones feel like jello, you can't even raise your head as you feel Price settle next to you. You don't know what makes you do it, but you reach out with hesitant hands to wrap around his waist, hesitation making you stall as you expect a punishment for overstepping. But when none comes you shuffle closer and curl around him, burying your head into his side. His scent curls in your nose, softer and muskier than the cologne Makarov uses.

Price watches you as you drift off to sleep with your hands around him like he's a giant teddy bear for you. His eyes keep returning to the collar wrapped around your neck, his fingers ghosting around the buckle on your nape as he runs his hand up and down your back. Dark anger curls in his heart at the sight of it, his blood boils to see you like this. He wants you to be the man he knew, the happy, confident Sargent. And sometimes he can still see bits of the old you peek beneath the cover of anger and violence.

But then one little thing will have you careening back into the dog Makarov turned you into.

God. Price feels useless.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #good dog fic #Hound-reader

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infamous-if · 6 months

Text

Spicy Snippet #1: Orion

As a thank you for 6k, I will write a variation of romantic/suggestive stuff for the ROs. I don't usually write in those contexts because I like sticking to canon in order not to spoil it when the the time comes in-story, but I think we are overdue for some! Starting with Orion!

"This is inappropriate."

Even though the words are said through a throaty hum you can feel against your lips, you don't stop nipping at Orion's throat. He sits with one arm propped, the other on your back as you straddle him on the edge of the bed. Orion, with all of his complaints, is hilariously compliant. He moves his head to give you more space for his neck, shuddering when your biting turns to salacious swipes of your tongue.

"Should I stop?" you ask through your kisses, your words muffled. The question has Orion's arm gliding over you to hold you tighter, the answer loud and clear.

"Are you trying to give me a hickey?" he asks. His voice trails off when you lick just the right spot, making a small squeak of a whimper leave his lips. You've learned that Orion is a vocal participant, his breathy reactions only encouraging you further. "You know..." His throat bobs when he swallows. "Cameras." He can't even form a coherent sentence, which is the most satisfying part. "I will be on my best behavior."

"I doubt that—" In one swift move, Orion grabs you and rolls you over until he's hovering over you. You're breathless from both surprise and excitement. He has you pinned with his hands on either side of your face, and his cheeks are flushed.

"Can you imagine?" He says, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, featherlight. It makes your body shudder. "Us doing this in a room of executives?" He brushes his nose against yours with endless delicacy, teasing you. So close and yet not quite there. "Forced to watch?" His mouth goes to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing your skin until you're swallowing. "Think of the scandal."

Another thing about Orion Quinn? He's a cheeky bastard.

You can hardly breathe, especially not when Orion sits up, towering over you as he begins unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes stay on you, his fingers deft and skilled, your gazes never breaking.

"You—" You swallow, propping yourself up on your elbows. "You would faint if that were to happen."

A low laugh escapes him, but his gaze turns hungry, heated at the thought. Almost as if fainting isn't what he would do at all. "You're right. HR would have me ruined."

"You are HR!" You lift your hand to put it on the last button that remains, fully intending to unbutton it for him. Orion puts his own hand over yours, directing it over the buckle of his belt. Your mouth waters. You know exactly what he wants, and he's not shy about telling you. "Knowing you," you swallow, using two fingers to remove the loop of the belt from the buckle, "you would punish yourself." "Saying that in this context is quite suggestive." He grins, taking the belt off and tossing it aside. Your fingers get to work on the button of his slacks.

"I'm being completely serious." You bite your lip, your body heating when he grabs your hand and plants a chaste, loving kiss to the inside of your palm, removing his pants with his other hand. "Get your mind out of the gutter, horndog."

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all.

He proceeds to bend down, nuzzling his nose into your neck until you're letting out a surprised laugh, failing to swat him away when he continues to tickle you. Eventually, he stops. And then Orion Quinn begins doing something else that has you forgetting exactly what you two were even talking about. Doesn't matter.

#drabble #short story #orion quinn #its adult time kiddies #6k drabble

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jellipuff · 1 month

Text

Angels wrapped in bows.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

WC: 2.5k

Summary: Being apart from Mingyu is always a challenge. No matter if for one minute or one week, you always find it challenging for many reasons and you know he feels the same. Yet who knew your pretty prince could get too greedy? Could crave you so deeply?

Warnings: Sub!mingyu, Bottom!mingyu, Dom!reader, Gender-neutral reader (let me know if it's not!), The term cock/strap is used in regards to reader, Gyu calls reader Daddy, Mingyu wants to get pregnant & reader gives mingyu anything he wants, (There is no real pregnancy just the situation being arousing for them both), Breeding kink, Dirty talking, Mingyu gets cockdumb easily, Lots of cum talk, There’s a little cream🥧 scene at the end (Sorry, kinda not & it’s short dw!), Pet names: Mingyu (Angel, Prince, Baby.), Reader (daddy.), Mingyu in a pretty pink nightgown during this. <3 (I think that's it!)

Inspired by this ask!

A/n: Hi guys! I haven’t written in so long so I hope this isn’t too bad! ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭ Since I haven't written in forever I'm trying to get back into the groove of it all so please be gentle with me LOL. Btw this might be a lil freaky for some hehe but I hope you like it! Also, don't like, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

Being away from mingyu is something you'll always consider a challenge. Whether it be he's simply in the kitchen while you are in bed or it is you on a week-long business trip with your phone being your saving grace. No matter the situation the feeling is always the same; you crave mingyu in every sense of the word.

This week's business trip has finally ended and you couldn't be more relieved. You hate being surrounded by so many people especially those who can't even return a nod your way. You can't say you blame them, with the constant meetings, elders feeling the need to raise either voice and business being the only thing talked about. It would take a toll on anyone, especially when it reoccurs for a week.

Although boring and uneventful you can't help but feel grateful at being kept busy. The whole time you were gone Mingyu mostly stayed at home by himself. He explained that he can't go out with his friends every day. (you told him you'd want to hang out with him every day, cutie got shy at that.)

─﹒☆﹒─

The sight of your front door makes you want to jump for joy. Behind there is a soft bed, a warm shower, and a pretty prince. With it being so late you enter the house quietly, sticking your suitcase to the side, and putting your shoes together neatly. The last time you kicked your shoes off without care you got an earful. Who knew for mingyu to use his size against you all you had to do was be a brat about tidiness?

You open your bedroom door quietly, careful not to wake mingyu if he's already asleep but to your surprise the lamps are on. Though that’s the last thing on your mind when you see him.

Your prince who you haven't seen in a week stands by one of the walls hanging up new fairy lights while wearing one of his dainty nightgowns. Not just any one though, your favorite one. Pretty pink gown with lace detailing, tiny bows at the hem, and one in the middle of his chest. The lighting from the fairy lights overhead cast him in a glow, making you feel like you had truly walked into heaven.

Walking up to him, you wrap your arms around his waist squeezing him tightly. You kiss his forehead with a hum, satisfied at having him in your arms again. He flinches at the contact, his surprised expression making you snicker. “You scared me!” he says, turning around to face you. His expression is cute though you know he's trying to appear angry.

“You need to be more aware baby, what if I was someone dangerous?” you state amused at his reaction; moving down to nip at where his neck meets his shoulder. You feel him relax at the feeling, already giving into you at such a small action. “You are someone dangerous.” he counters, turning back to the wall. You admire the view because how couldn't you?

His broad shoulders, and toned back accompanied by his thick thighs is such an art that you'd be crazy to do anything less than admire. His cute ass that peeks from beneath the hem of his gown makes you drop to your knees to seek more. Slipping your hands underneath his gown to squeeze the plump cheeks.

It's so cute how Mingyu’s ass fits him, so biteable and soft. The chocked sound he makes at your teeth sinking into his skin tenderly makes you apply more pressure. You want your mark there, a sign to him and yourself that he is yours.

Mingyu winces at the feeling, the pain is one he doesn't mind. He knows you’ve missed him, in too many ways to count. He doesn't move even at the sting because if there is one thing Mingyu loves, it's being useful for you. A selfish reason lies within that as well, your angel loves being used by you.

Mingyu loves pleasing, a part of him relishes at not needing to think when you're around. Mingyu loves letting you do whatever you wish because it makes him happy. There's also the other side of the coin that makes him dizzy and that's letting Daddy fuck him wherever and whenever they want.

“Need it, Daddy, s’much” Mingyu whines after what feels like hours of your torment. You’ve been touching him all over, your mouth traveling every inch of him, getting him so close with so little just to stop soon after. He missed you a lot and needs to feel you inside right now!

Throughout the days you were gone all he could think about was: What would you do to him today if you were here? How would you kiss him Thursday morning while he made you both breakfast in the pink sweater you bought too big for him?

He even thought silly thoughts like: What if you cum in him so deep that he got pregnant?

Mingyu didn't think it was silly afterward with the way the thought made his mind hazy and hole feel too empty. He knows it won't happen, He is not even sure he’d want it to but the thought makes his face hot, and knowing you? You could convince him it would happen.

Could convince him that if rocked his hips harder it'd work faster, that if he clenched hard enough around you, you'd be milked dry and he'd be so full. He’d listen, he’d listen and be the best prince cause only Daddy uses his hole, so only you know what's best.

He melts into your hold as you finally enter him. The stretch adds a pleasurable pain sedating his burning lust yet he still feels too hot. You bite the shell of his ear before leaving a soft kiss behind it. Taking his hips in your hands as you guide him over your cock. Filthy words leave your mouth, the slight degradation in them said so lovingly that Mingyu considers it praise.

He's such a slut for cock? Yes, yours makes him pathetic.

He’s so sensitive he could probably cum with just kisses? Yes, because your lips tease and suck all over, making him yearn.

He's your pretty fucktoy? Of course he is, he's Daddy's pretty toy wrapped up in lace and bows. Daddy’s prettiest present to kiss, bend over and make cry whenever they want.

Your pace quickens, the sound of skin hitting skin egging you both on. The fairy lights above continue to make him glow, casting a halo on his head. Proving that he is Daddy's little angel.

“Daddy so good..” he groans out; ending his sentence with a small squeak as you seem to reach places he’s only tried to this past week. “Yeah? My poor prince must have been so lonely.” you sympathize. Pulling your hips back slowly you lean to kiss his shoulder blade. “So empty.” you insinuate with a strong thrust.

Mingyu cries out at the feeling, the power in your movements making him try to grab at something only to fall short at the flat wall in front of him. “Need it s’bad.” he mewls out. The thought that occurred to him while you were away the only thing currently in his mind. “Need what baby?” you ask fondly. He doesn't respond instead he moves one of his hands from the wall to intertwine with where yours lays on his stomach.

He moves his hips in a circular motion, turning to look back at you. He’s pouting as if you're supposed to know what he needs. You usually do but mingyu thinks you might not know what it is he really wants right now.

“Been thinkin' about it while you were gone.” he says but doesn't answer you. He rotates his hips in the opposite direction, whining at the feeling. The pretty pink gown swaying with the motion causes you to groan. You lower your free hand to Mingyu’s ass before giving a spank to the left cheek. “Spit it out angel.” you snap, feeling impatient.

You lean back to stand straight and he follows; laying his head on your shoulder. His body is bent erotically the arch of his back causes his chest to push out. You catch sight of his nipples under the slightly sheer fabric, you wish you could touch him everywhere at once.

He wraps his arm around the side of your neck to secure himself. He looks at your lips before licking them lightly. His gaze travels up to lock on your eyes, there's a seductive flutter to them, one that makes Mingyu's eyelashes feel like a trap and his irises capture you.

“You cum in me so deep and it's always really good.” he whispers to you. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, drawing you in more than he already has you. “Feels so good you'd let me fuck you anywhere, anytime?” you press, voice low as you rut your hips up lightly making Mingyu’s eyebrows furrow in bliss.

“Feels so good I'd let you get me pregnant Daddy.” he corrects quietly. His words fill you with fervor, images of mingyu walking around the house in more pretty nightgowns while being bred by you. His hole leaking and messy with your cum as he makes breakfast, feeling content as his body glows. No matter how unrealistic it is, your hunger for him is real.

He grins before giving you a feather of a kiss when he sees the light in your eyes dim, now sharing the need with him. You fuck into him faster, his moans suffocating as it hits the wall in front of you. It's suffocating in the way they sound so pretty, in the way it motivates you to keep going, to pull more out of him until his throat is sore.

Mingyu’s cock bounces between his legs, pretty cock shiny with arousal and frustration. You pull back to grip his hips harder, fuck into him just a little bit harsher until he’s crying. “Daddy, w–wait, t’much!” he sobs out. You slow, beginning to kiss up his jaw, his cheek, and a gentle one on his forehead.

You move a hand to splay on his stomach as you fuck up into him with slow but deep thrust. Making sure he feels every inch of you glide in and out of his walls. You’re making sure to hit his prostate with intention causing your poor prince to grip your wrist. “Pretty body is so big and strong, it already has all of me but it wants more?” you taunt and he only whimpers, pushing his hips back for more.

Each time you drag your cock out he can't help but whine, even though he knows you'll always give him more, as every time you reenter he gasps. “It wants more of me so much that your hole won't stop pulling me back in.” He can’t reply, your thrust knocking all words and air from him and it's so good. He doesn't have to think right now, doesn't even think he could with all that's clouding his mind is the feeling of you inside.

“Gonna make you even prettier in this gown angel, gonna make you take so well.” you growl. Turning his head to face you, you capture his lips. The kiss is a contrast to your bodies. It's hungry yet soft. So full of care that Mingyu almost misses the way you bite his lip with a grunt, seeming to be caught up in the idea of his body being not only full of your love but also full of you.

And all Mingyu can do is let out pleas. His body finally got what it wanted yet he still begs. “Daddy’s gonna get me pregnant?” he questions, so far gone in his pleasure and you're no better. “You want it baby?” you moan into his ear. “Yes! Yes…” he cries, head nodding along to his words. “Then daddy will give you it angel.”

─﹒☆﹒─

You don't know how much time passes by as you both stay in this lustful haze. You came more than once and immediately stopped counting. His hole exposes that fact erotically. Cream around your strap and his pretty hole. The sight alone makes you want to cum again.

“Daddy it's getting messy, t’much cummin out.” He whines. You'd almost think he's complaining if you didn't know how much he loves it like this; with his head empty and his hole dripping. Angel doesn't even notice his lisp being more apparent. He's so cute, so perfect, so big that you’d be crazy not to stuff his hole until it takes. (Though the thought of pulling out just to see him tear up and babble about putting it back in appeases you.)

“Thought you wanted my cum, pretty prince?” you remind as you guide you both to the bed. Laying him on his back. You lift his legs over your shoulders; moving down to kiss both his nipples lightly. “I do s’much. imagine all of it in here, Daddy, please.” he snivels as he looks down at his stomach before meeting your gaze. His eyes are shiny and his hair is tousled as it sprawls over the pillow. Your pretty prince is the real danger here, despite his claims of it being you.

You bite back a moan at his words. Holding his hip tight letting your fingers push into the little bit of plush there. Everything feels too much, too little, so good. You almost don't want to cum again, wanting to stay here like this with him forever. Yet you feel the familiar tingle in your skin and your brain fuzzes as pleasure overtakes you once more. Your orgasm is strong even after the previous ones.

Mingyu reaches down to his cock, finally giving it attention. It only takes three strokes and a weak thrust of your hips for him to shake with a yelp. His orgasm making his breath quicken and his legs tighten around you.

You both catch your breath before you pull out and Mingyu decides to be a brat as he immediately pulls his legs back to show you all of him. His puffy hole clenches causing cum to squeeze out. God, why is he such a blessing and a curse in the best way possible?

“S’much inside Daddy, look how much is coming out” he slurs softly. He stares at you as he pushes more out and you moan quietly at the sight. He giggles at his effect on you, the power he has to make you feral is something he takes pride in. You avert your eyes from where you both connected to look back at him.

“What do you say baby?” you inquire. Kissing his ankle softly before letting go. He closes his legs making the pink gown fall to lay at his thick thighs.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

P.s: guys this might be the last pure smut for a little minute as i have a few full fic ideas I'm finally starting to plan and work on! horny writer user @/jellipuff is not out of commission guys, she's just finally going to try, write & finish her fics instead of 1.0k+ smuts. 😞

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

At First Sight 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Plus!short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You are so drunk. Not just tipsy, you are loaded. The lights glare fuzzily around you as bass thumps in the floor and into your body. As you sway and rock to the music, you barely remember where you, hardly recognise the faces of your own friends.

Rhonda is entwined with a guy, so close they may as well kiss, and Starla is just as shameless with the pretty redhead she pulled from across the floor. As usual, you're the odd one out, but you don't mind. You're having a blast. You're so blitzed, you can't be anything close to lonely.

You throw your arms up as your favourite Beyonce song blares on. Rhonda entangles herself with her boy toy completely, tongues desperately mashing together, and Starla has her arm over the redhead's shoulders as she points to the bar, walking in that direction. As you turn to watch her go, your back collides with another body.

Before you can apologise, two hips curl around your hips. You squirm, unused to touch. Insecure as even the large paws that have accosted you can't make you feel waifish like your gorgeous friends.

"Hey," the grizzly voice undercuts the music, "how ya doin', honeybee?"

You blink, clueless as to what to do. You look at Rhonda but she's consumed by her partner and Starla's still off getting a refill. You touch the man's wrist but quickly recoil. How do you do this?

"Honeybee?" You force your voice put to compete with the music.

"Mmm, yeah, you look sweet," he growls as he squeezes your hips tighter, pulling you back against him, "sorry, not mucha a dancer."

"Oh, um," you look up, trying to see him over your shoulder, "uh, me either."

"Look good to me," he counters as his hot breath seeps into your scalp and he inhales, as if catching your scent, "you smell sweet too, honeybee."

Your body is both alight with flames and stringent with ice. You try to sway but he's planted firmly. You gently touch his hand again, and manage to turn yourself to face him. His grip hovers on your hips.

"Should we start with names?" You smile shyly as you get a look at him. You're nervous as he peers back. You hope he's not disappointed.

"Mm, I like ya just as much from the front," he winks, "name's Sy."

"Sy," you repeat before you give your own name.

He's not bad on the eyes, tall, broad, and bright blue eyes. His beard's a bit thick for your liking but you’re not picky. You can't really be.

"You want another drink?" He offers as his hands run up to your waist and your catch them, squiriming.

"Sure," you accept, hoping to get at least a little space so you can get your head straight.

"Alright, honeybee," he purrs and draws his touch away, only to turn and put his hand on the small of your back, "you like the sweet drinks?"

"Uh, yeah, I don't mind cocktails," you agree, cringing at your own awkwardness.

"You're cute," he says as he urges you through the crowd, "I like that."

You stagger drunkenly but don't fall. You try to play off your little stumble and he slips his hand across your back to grip your waist and pull you closer.

As you near the bar, Starla detaches herself with a fresh drink of her own. She notices Sy and raises her brows before sticking out her tongue. Her other hand is around the redhead's as she tug her back toward the dancefloor.

The man easily bulls his way through the crowd around the bar and signals at the bartender. As she nears, he turns back to you.

"What d'ya want?" He asks.

"Rum and coke is fine," you answer with your default. Usually you just get whatever the others get.

He turns back and issues his order to the bartender. He waits, tapping his fingers on the leather trim until the drinks appear. He pays and says some unheard words to the bartender. He takes the glasses and turns, offering you the dark rum and coke.

Your stomach gurgles as you accept it. You only really get a free drink out of pity. One of Rhonda or Starla's hookups feel like they have to me nice to the 'other one'. More than the anxiety, the unreadiness, it's the alcohol already swishing around in your gut.

He sidles you along the bar to an empty space. He sips from a pint of amber bear, the foam sticking in his beard around his mouth. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.

"You from around here, honeybee?"

"Um, lived here a few years, yeah."

"Whatcha doin' in a place like this?"

You sip, more nervous than thirsty. Ugh, it's strong. He wouldn't order a double.

"We're just about to graduate," you chime brightly, happy to have something to talk about. "Yeah, fourth years over, exams are all done..."

"Smart girl," he remarks, eyes sparkling. “Bet ya can guess I'm a bit past all that.”

He brushes his hand over his beard, a few grays catching the lights as the change hues. He doesn't look that old. And you don't have to do anything more than talk to him. You're not the type to go home with a stranger. Not that you ever had the chance.

“I didn't– well, what do you do?” You ask evasively. You take another gulp.

“Military,” he answers bluntly, “can't say much more than that, ya know. Confidential stuff.”

“Oh,” you can't help your surprise. You feel even more out of your depth. “That's interesting.”

“Nah, sweet thing like you don't care about war stuff. Ugly business,” he dismisses, “how your drink then, honeybee?”

“Um,” you look down. It even smells strong. “It's good. Thank you.”

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #sand castle #drabble #au #the club #series #at first sight

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somethingpersonarelated · 19 days

Text

On simplifying Akechi

My brain was ridden with these ideas people have about Akechi that piss me off a little. Mostly ones that say he is "just crazy" or "just hates Joker." There's countless metaposts countering these arguments (and they are absolutely wonderful) but I often wonder WHY simplifying Akechi down is so appealing, even to people who are fans of his character. I can't say I've never been immune to simplifications of his character either, and I feel like that's important to admit. I don't even think it's necessarily a bad thing, but I was wondering about that why question.

TW: Discussions of mental health and child abuse

Source: A high schooler's holiday from the P5 Comic Anthology (read it here!)

I do think it's hard for all of the little things Akechi's character builds upon to be conveyed through a single playthrough. If you go in blind or don't finish his confidant, you may only get that surface level exploration of his character. Base Akechi is flashy and still gets the point across that it needs to: he's a foil to Joker and the PTs. However, by missing out on his social links and special events, you miss cultural, relationship, and personal context.

Many words have been said about the translation, particularly in the engine room, being faulty in areas. But some people still don't understand that Akechi's plan isn't to kill Shido, even when the text makes that clear. There's also this scene with Shido, which reads more as an exposition dump in a long section of the game most players will either tune out or skip. Not everything you see will always stick in your head, and Persona is a LONG game. I feel like it's easy to forget people just... forget canon sometimes. It's easier to put these details aside and say Akechi isn't affected by the system he's raised in. But the reality is, you miss what Lavenza says about Akechi's role, you miss that one exposition scene, and you miss the confidant: you believe Akechi had much more autonomy than was actually true. In conversations I've had with people IRL about Persona, 2/3 either skipped or did not finish Akechi's confidant. It isn't improbable, playtimes can range from 100-300 hours, most playthroughs take weeks. People will forget things. It isn't a maybe, it WILL happen.

When the game feeds you so much information, it's also easier to take what the characters say at face value. Doing this with Akechi will bite your ass. Those words in Rank 8 are directly expanded upon in No More What Ifs, the engine room, and 2/2. Maruki and Morgana confirm Akechi doesn't hate Joker, but you never hear Akechi say it himself. To me the game beats you over the head with this information (as the game has a tendency to do for certain situations), but I've also been in the rabbit hole for over a year now.

There's also this idea that recognizing that Akechi was set up by Yaldabaoth, his upbringing, and Shido means that all the venom is taken away from his actions. That isn't true, and Akechi holds to that in third semester. He doesn't give himself any grace for the situation he landed in, wanting to take accountability for it when it is undone without his consent. Akechi is by no means a perfect victim, and he doesn't believe that either. Recognizing that he had no choice, it was either homelessness and neglect or the plan he conjured himself only brings to light the tragedy of his situation, not whether his actions were morally incorrect. He wanted his father to be in his life, and he wanted his father to suffer. He wanted to have someone like Ren in his life, and he couldn't have someone like Ren because his plan would be jeopardized. It's a series of choices, some of which are forced upon him, some of which he chooses himself. That is an important distinction to make.

There's also this idea that Akechi is 'just crazy,' or never suffered from abuse or events that affected him long term. That he doesn't suffer from unspecified mental health conditions or trauma, and chose everything with a clear mind. When someone brings up this argument, it's usually in response to people talking about his life experiences. That somehow, the existence of trauma or a condition is an excuse for whatever he did. There's a double standard here: Akechi is someone who suffers from a condition that makes him 'plain crazy', simplifying his entire motivation and role in the story, while also removing him from the context of his mother, Shido, and his experience with the foster system. Actually interacting with these facets of his character brings to light the challenging things the story asks you to think about when it comes to Akechi: Is he a victim? Is he like the Phantom Thieves? What about his situation informed his choices? Interacting with this requires effort and an actual acknowledgement about what it means to be someone that suffers from trauma. Calling him 'plain crazy' not only is in disservice of textual analysis, but more importantly incorrect (and frankly, it falls straight into ableist tropes about mental health).

Sometimes internet debates/discourse lead to simplification, even just random headcanons may lead to simplification. That isn't always bad. There are many ways to say what I said here in fewer words. I, unfortunately, am not skilled enough to do that. But some of these simplifications lead to entirely incorrect judgements about a character, or even about mental health issues. When that happens, I wish people would learn to reflect about what that means when they interact with a piece of media. Or even with other people.

tldr: people should learn to say they just don't like things instead of coming up with excuses that make no sense. basically

#p5 #p5 meta #goro akechi #p5 discourse #p5r #p5 spoilers #thinking-emoji #a rant i am so sorry

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kiss-me-cill-me · 2 months

Note

Hi!!! I know it’s only a small idea but I wanted to request something for Emmett based on when he first puts his hand around Evelyns mouth to keep her quiet but instead he does it to the reader to keep her quiet, in whatever scenario you can think of. The way he looked was so hot with that eye contact it had me sweating 🥵

My dear anon, literally no idea is too small for Emmett. This man is so underappreciated it's a crime. I also decided to shoehorn in some inspiration from another one of my favorite snippets of Emmett thirst, which is the gif below of him looking through his rifle sights because hnnnnnnggg. Hope you don't mind ;) Thank you for requesting! <3

Distractions

Pairing: Emmett x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The more time you spend around Emmett, the more distracted you get. And when you finally can't keep quiet about it any longer, Emmett has to take matters into his own hands (heh heh) and make you stay quiet.

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, a whole lot of build-up, close call with a creature, kinda angry sex, quiet sex, biting

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Distracted could not even begin to describe the way you were feeling.

The dim light forced you to squint as you watched Emmett - the scope of his rifle held out just in front of his face as he peered through the sights to scan for potential threats. He took his time, sweeping across the expanse of road stretched out in front of you. Making triple sure that nothing would jump out at you as you climbed down from where you were perched.

The gun rested firmly against his squared shoulders, and you found your gaze trailing idly from there, down over the line of his arm. Somewhere from off in the distance, a pale yellow light illuminated him just enough for you to make out the soft hair on his forearms. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, but shook your head, chasing the thought away quickly. It wouldn’t do either of you any good if you startled him.

You refocused on his lips, which were parted slightly. In concentration, his tongue darted out to lick at the sliver of space between them. You wished you had something to hold onto and brace yourself with, against the wave of desire that moved through your whole body.

But, aside from you and Emmett, the only other thing around was an old metal guardrail. And you really couldn’t risk releasing the noise that might hide in its depths. These days, anything that looked even remotely like it might creak was off limits.

A gentle breeze rustled his hair, and he lowered the rifle. He turned briefly to nod at you, once. It was safe.

No words dared to fill the dark, empty space as both of you stepped carefully over the guardrail. Pausing at the top of the overpass to take one last look at the scene below, you stopped to reflect on the past two days. That was how long you’d been traveling for, and you’d been together with Emmett for only a bit longer.

Although, “together” was the operative word. You had been sticking close to each other, under some quiet but shared understanding that two people were often better than one, at least when it came to things like keeping watch while you camped out in the open, or scavenging for supplies. But he and you weren’t together together, as much as your mind liked to wander and go wild with possibilities. In fact-

Something suddenly caught your attention, and you snapped back into focus again, to see Emmett waving an arm at you. He was standing a short distance in front of you, partway down the hill that connected the overpass to the wide road below. Staring up at where you stood, with an inquisitive look and just a hint of concern in his eyes, half hooded with shadow.

You gave him a thumbs up, and cautiously started to make your own way down the steep hill.

It was early. So early that it was still almost full dark out, and you followed the beam of the flashlight that Emmett held like a beacon. Usually, you weren’t out until after the sun had risen. But last night, neither of you had seemed able to sleep, and so it felt silly to waste time just sitting around when it would be light in a few hours.

You thought you could glimpse the first few streaks of dawn, just barely starting to leak out on the horizon. Goosebumps spread over your skin, in the chilly half-darkness. Emmett had loaned you a checkered bandana, and you reached up to tuck it a little more snugly into the neck of your jacket. The rough fabric brushed up against your chin, and you smiled.

In front of you, Emmett stopped short. You were only a few paces away from him now, and you paused just behind him, before you could bump into the hand he’d extended to stop you.

The hill didn’t sit fully flush with the ground below. Instead, it dropped sharply off at a stone wall, just a few feet above the road.

Emmett kept one hand pressed to his rifle, holding it still as he eased himself down; careful to not make even the smallest noise. You shuffled up to the edge of the wall, ready to follow right after him. As you stooped down, Emmett reached up, offering help.

You accepted it, awkwardly, and let him take one of your hands in his while the other came firmly to rest on the small of your back. As he guided you down, you felt your arms heat up, rapidly chasing away the goosebumps.

You looked at him once your feet were back on solid ground, slightly surprised by the physical contact. Not that it meant anything. Not that it was even anything worth getting excited about. He would probably do the same thing for anyone. He was just being helpful.

Abruptly, you realized he’d already started to walk away, continuing on the journey that you were both supposed to be focused on. You hurried to catch up, but made sure your footsteps were soft as you followed.

With no opportunities to talk, the time spent traveling felt long. You were both in your own worlds; Emmett focused on scanning for danger, and you, well, distracted by watching him. As usual.

It was probably best for both of you that Emmett hadn’t yet noticed the way your gaze lingered on him. But, that was just how he’d been, in all of the short time you’d known him. He was observant, and overly anxious to keep an eye out at all times. He seemed almost not to notice anything that wasn’t actively threatening his safety, and that included you.

Streaks of pink started to stretch across the sky, and then blended into the blue of a new day. Finally, it was light enough to see clearly, and you looked around at what was once a small town. You were just passing through, but the devastation that was clearly written across streets, stores, and houses felt unsettling.

To your left, a sharp, unexpected sound made your blood run ice cold. Emmett froze right along with you, and you both whipped around to watch as an animal scampered away from a trash can, now tipped over and spilling out garbage onto the street.

Litter was the very least of your worries, though, as an all-too-familiar screech echoed across the empty street.

What shit luck. That was the only thought running through your mind as Emmett frantically dragged you by the arm, not wasting even a second more as the creature advanced. It was close by, and you had nowhere to hide.

Apparently Emmett did, though, as he forcefully shoved you into the backseat of a car. Both of the doors, you noticed, were missing - completely torn off by some previous run-in with these monsters, by the looks of it.

As your back landed against the cloth seat cushions, you felt the wind knock out of your lungs. The soft sound of breath leaving your body was silenced, as Emmett slammed down on top of you, hastily bringing a hand to your mouth.

Your eyes blew wide as his body pressed fully into yours, stealing your breath in a quite different way. A sound caught in your throat, and you swallowed it down, hard. You were not about to get both you and him killed by moaning at a time like this.

His palm pressed down over your nose and lips, and you could feel the heat of your own breath as he stayed there, not focused on you but still scanning, even now, for the monster that sounded like it had finally arrived. The metallic sound of the trash can echoed out on the street.

You moved your head a little, trying to shake out of his almost-oppressive grasp to breathe easier. That finally seemed to get Emmett’s attention, and he looked down with a mix of horror and embarrassment as his hand pulled away. Still pressed tight together, you both shifted your attention to more urgent matters.

You could still hear that thing wreaking havoc as it searched fruitlessly for the source of the sound. Sometimes you were almost impressed that the creatures could hunt at all, when they were the ones who were making the most noise out of anything. Anything left, anyway. This was a bad case of wrong place, wrong time, but for the most part, anyone who hadn’t learned early on to stay quiet was no longer around to learn.

Emmett’s arms, planted on either side of your head, tensed as his fingers dug into the seat cushions. In any other situation, this would have been pleasant. As things were now, though, you could feel both your heartbeat and his as they pounded together, hard enough to cross the thick barrier of bone and flesh.

The car lurched, and you felt your eyes bug out of your head. The creature was on top of you now, quite literally; you could hear a sharp groan as the car protested under its weight. A series of clicks told you that it was on the offensive, still searching for even the tiniest sound.

Another sharp jerk made you gasp, barely audibly, but loud enough for Emmett to press his rough hand over your mouth again. This time, he was a bit more careful, leaving you room to breathe out of your nose as he pushed his palm down on your lips. But the panic that swarmed in his eyes as you looked up told you exactly how he felt. You both stayed stock still, waiting to see if that little sound had been enough to give you away.

The car screamed even louder as the creature stepped off, lurking its way down onto the street, now on the other side of the vehicle. You stretched your neck to look back, and watched as it swiveled its head side to side. Thankfully not listening in your direction for too long.

Cautiously, you dared to move just a few inches, wiggling and brushing your hips up against Emmett’s as you tried to make yourself more comfortable. As you did, though, the unmistakable feeling of something hard pressed into your thigh.

You looked up at him, your eyes straining with horror as both of you realized what had just happened.

Emmett looked even more mortified than you felt; his lips pressed together in a tight line as his eyes seemed to beg for a way out of this. You threw him a panicked, questioning look. In reply, all he could do was reflect the same painful and wide-eyed face, as if to say, “What do you want me to do about it?”

There wasn’t much either one of you could do, however, as in that moment the creature’s head whirled back around with a sharp screech in your direction. You’d been quiet, you thought, although maybe the sound of your breath mixed with Emmett’s as he strained against you was enough to grab its attention again.

You both froze, and you quickly buried your face in his chest, tucking yourself away from the horrible fate that awaited you, as best you could.

But, after a few harrowing seconds, you heard the creature move on. The sound of its clicks grew more distant as it ran off, still searching for prey.

You let out a huge breath, silently this time, and lifted your head from your hiding place. As you pulled away slightly from where you had curled up against him, you saw Emmett still looking down at you, horrified. You wondered why, for a second, before realizing your fingers were tangled firmly in his belt loops, desperately pressing his hips against yours as you’d braced for your end.

Now, though, that the danger had passed, all you were doing was grinding yourself firmly against his erection. Which had definitely not gone away, despite all the imminent, life-threatening danger.

Emmett’s hand brushed against yours, and your heart skipped, only for him to pry your fingers apart, releasing himself from your death grip. He refused to make eye contact with you; instead awkwardly shuffling out of the car, and facing away as you crawled out after him.

Your heart was still thundering in your chest, maybe even a bit louder than it had been as you were being stalked by the monster. You wished desperately to be able to talk to Emmett; you hadn’t said more than two words to him since you’d set out earlier this morning. That wasn’t unusual, but if there was ever a time when you wished for the ability to communicate, it was right now.

You scanned quickly for any safe space. Now that you had time to actually assess your surroundings, you noticed several buildings with wide open doors. You tugged Emmett’s sleeve, silently telling him to follow you.

He did follow, somewhat reluctantly, and soon you were deep in the relative safety of the stockroom of a small store, your weapons and backpacks cast quickly aside. Someone who had been here before you had taken the time to shove mattresses up against every wall - added protection to muffle any sounds from within. Finally, you could speak.

“Emmett…”

But where could you even begin? Did you admit that you had feelings for him? Would that only scare him away? Maybe scaring him was good; if that was what a little adrenaline had done to him, part of you felt tempted to put him in even more dangerous situations. But, then again, if that’s all it had been, then maybe he didn’t like you at all. At least, not in the way you liked him. As you quietly wrestled with indecision, Emmett took over the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, still not meeting your gaze. “I didn’t mean- I’m… Fuck.”

“Sorry?” you echoed. “What are you sorry for?”

“For…”

Emmett trailed off; his face twisted into a new expression of pained awkwardness. The tension was thick enough to wrap solidly around your ankles, rooting you to the spot where you stood.

Emmett shuffled, apparently still restless despite the heavy pressure that had settled over the small room. Your whole body felt weighed down, and yet you were still buzzing with the unchecked excitement that always came after surviving a close call. Your veins felt ready to burst.

“Shit, is it hot in here?” you wondered.

While outside you’d been freezing in the cold morning air, suddenly in here you felt flushed. Maybe Emmett wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by the adrenaline rush.

You peeled off your jacket, and looked up to see Emmett’s eyes glued to you.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m-”

You cut Emmett off before he could finish his sentence.

“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” you whispered, a bit more harshly than necessary. “You don’t need to apologize if it’s nothing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Emmett sighed.

“So it’s not nothing?”

“What’s not nothing?” Emmett shot back, exasperated. “The way that I’ve been trying my best to ignore you looking at me like you want to rip my clothes off for the last week?”

You stared back at him with renewed horror. It hadn’t really been that obvious, had it? You had felt certain he hadn’t noticed you staring.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you gasped.

“Because I didn’t want what just happened to happen!”

“Nothing just happened,” you hissed.

Now you were the one spitting out denials. The oppressive atmosphere grew hotter, and you felt the need to strip off more layers. Not that doing that would be particularly helpful right now.

“Look, Emmett - do you like me?”

You figured that asking him point blank would get you the most direct answer. Instead, he looked at you as if you’d just grown an extra two heads.

And you might as well have, for all the good your current one was doing you. You racked your brain for another strategy, growing increasingly frustrated by the second.

“Do I like you?” Emmett said finally, interrupting your frenzy of thoughts. “What kind of question is that?” “It’s the kind that I’d sure like an answer to,” you replied. “If we’re going to be able to move forward from this, one way or another.”

Emmett glared at you, incredulous, his mouth hanging open as the rest of his face twisted into a look that was hard to read. Just when you thought he was going to turn on his heel and walk out, he took a step closer to you.

In the next breath, he’d grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in, quickly stifling your gasp with his lips.

Kissing Emmett felt like fighting for air, and like having it pumped directly into your lungs. All at the same time, and all scorchingly hot as his lips seared against yours. The torturous days spent fantasizing about this exact moment flashed before your eyes, as you tried to search for some hint that you’d missed to suggest that he felt the same way. Had you really been so wrapped up in your own pining that you hadn’t noticed him struggling, too?

As you both pulled back, you stared at him in shock. Emmett’s eyes were on your lips, too downcast for you to catch his gaze. But finally, they flickered up and lit the spark that had been smoldering deep inside of you. Your fingers tightened over his clothes

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you asked again, feverish. It was a challenge to keep your voice quiet.

“Say anything about what?” Emmett bit back.

You noticed the way his eyes drifted over you, taking in the frazzled and overwhelmed state you were in. That kiss had taken a lot out of you, and you were frantically scrambling to re-collect your thoughts.

“Why torture both of us by pretending that you don’t want the same thing I do?” you clarified.

Emmett’s hands traveled up to your face, cupping your jaw in his palms as he tugged gently, pulling you to meet him again.

“Because I didn’t want any distractions.”

That was probably the most ironic answer he could have given. What had you spent the past few days doing if not being constantly, thoroughly distracted? By him; by the question of whether or not he would notice you, in the way that you found it all but impossible not to notice him?

“That’s so stupid,” you grunted, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You barely resisted as Emmett maneuvered you, swinging you both with your lips pressed together so that he could pin you against a small table. He lifted you up, making you sit on the surface, as his rough hands wandered over your legs.

“Some of us have self control,” he informed you.

“Really? Who?”

His fingers tightened their grip, and you felt thankful that you were already seated. Without the support of the table, you almost certainly would have crumpled against him. Emmett’s waist was between your legs, and you squeezed desperately, not wanting to let him go in case he suddenly got the idea that this wasn’t the time or place.

And it wasn’t, but you weren’t about to let that stop you.

Emmett’s hand snaked under your shirt, then your bra, rubbing his thumb against the hard peak that had already formed. You bit his lip, cautiously at first, and then with more vigor as your bodies reacted to the other’s touch. It had been so long since you’d done anything like this, and you felt your legs growing more shaky already.

“Take my pants off,” you gasped, pulling away for a frenzied breath of air.

Emmett deftly popped the button on your jeans; practically growling at the sight of you once he had finally peeled them off. You settled back onto the table, and hooked your legs around him once more. Already wet, you could feel yourself stick to the cloth of his t-shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed, bracing your hands on the table to push closer.

Emmett pulled back, and just as you were about to complain, you felt his hand drift down and brush through your folds. Shivering all over again, you threw your head back.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Emmett muttered, just like you’d thought he would.

“I don’t care. Need to feel you,” you moaned, grabbing his wrist and guiding his fingers right where you wanted them.

You let go, urging him to take over. Despite his reluctance, Emmett seemed all too willing to be pulled along. His fingers sank into you, eliciting a long whine.

“Be quiet,” he reminded you.

But, luckily, the threat of making enough noise to be noticed by whatever monsters were lurking outside wasn’t enough to stop him. He pressed deeper, curling his fingers and brushing the pad of his thumb dangerously close to the bundle of nerves that would almost certainly seal your fate. It was a dangerous game, and every whimper that threatened to escape your lips could be your last, if it was loud enough.

“Fuck.”

Your legs were sore from walking for days, and it hurt as he spread them. It felt good, though; the deep stretch serving to set your imagination on fire with all the possibilities that were unlocking with every twinge of your sore muscles.

“Emmett.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “I… I want more than your fingers.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned. “You’re already causing enough trouble as is.”

You pouted, but felt something stir inside of you at his words. If you had anything to say about it, you would show him just how much trouble you could be.

“I didn’t realize this was such an- inconvenience for you,” you snapped, voice hitching in the middle as he hit that spot that made you see stars.

“I didn’t want you to realize,” he shot back.

“And yet, look where we’ve ended up. Despite your best efforts.”

The devilish smirk that played out over your lips seemed to make Emmett falter, and you felt him brush against your clit again. You had to bite your lip to stop from screaming.

Teetering dangerously on the edge of destruction only made you more eager to press on. The adrenaline from earlier had started to resurge, and you clung to it, heart beating fast in your ears as you rapidly approached your climax.

“Emmett. Gonna come,” you warned, already out of breath before you began.

Wordlessly, Emmett kissed you again, and you felt yourself explode against him. His thumb traced circles over your clit, somehow feather-light but solid, all at once. You cursed against his lips, maybe a little louder than you should have, but it was too late to take back now. As your high faded, you listened carefully for the shrill screech that would let you know you’d been caught.

It never came, and slowly you allowed yourself to start breathing again. Leaning over you, Emmett pressed his forehead against yours.

“That was way too close,” he complained.

“But worth it,” you hummed. “C’mon. Now it’s your turn.”

Eyes still half-clouded with sex, you struggled for a few seconds to find his zipper. As soon as you’d started to pull it down, Emmett stopped you.

“We’ve barely survived the last hour,” he scoffed. “And now you want me to fuck you?”

“I was just gonna jerk you off,” you lied. “But hey. If you want…”

Emmett’s face turned bright red as he realized the corner he’d been backed into.

“Come on - you weren’t complaining two seconds ago,” you teased. “Well, I mean, you were. But you seemed into it.”

Emmett sighed, but his shoulders stiffened as you reached past his zipper and took hold of him. He was definitely still into it.

You slid off the table but stayed pressed against it, leaning back slightly as you pulled him out and pressed his head flush to your core. He slipped in easily, already slick with your arousal and unable to resist the pull of your body.

You sighed, and that was enough to make Emmett grab hold of you again, burying himself all the way in with one thrust.

The shock of it was sudden, but you quickly recovered and pulled him in closer, greedily pressing him as far as he could go.

“This is exactly what I’ve wanted,” you hummed, smiling contentedly.

Emmett’s only response was a grunt, as he pushed deeply into you again, dragging his hips back before snapping forward. His hands were holding onto your arms, keeping you steady against the sharp edge of the table. Both of you hung onto each other for dear life.

“Goddamn distracting…” Emmett muttered. It sounded like only part of a sentence, but you didn’t catch the rest. Too wrapped up in the way he was filling you.

Without warning, he pulled all the way out. He flipped you around, bracing your palms against the table, and then sank back in. You felt your walls tighten around him as you moaned, a little louder.

Fingers splayed over the grain of the wood, you clawed at the table as Emmett pummeled into you, picking up speed to match the erratic beat of your heart. Your eyes screwed shut, chasing the pleasure that steadily built in your stomach.

“Shit. I’m gonna come again,” you gasped, already feeling the waves wash over you.

From behind, Emmett’s hand reached around to slap over your mouth, one more time, pulling your head back a little as he continued to rut into you. You made a muffled sound of protest, but he kept going.

You didn’t have long to concern yourself with comfort, as you were quickly overtaken by pleasure. You let yourself give in; surrendering to the feeling that coursed through you, and the way that his hips never stopped snapping up to meet yours, and the rough palm he held over your mouth. Which was fortunate, actually, because without Emmett’s hand stifling your sounds, they almost certainly would have gotten you both killed.

“Mmmf!”

You tried and failed to bite back the cry that threatened to erupt, only halted by Emmett as he succeeded in keeping his hand steady.

But it was clear he was close behind you. His hips bucked up with far less precision than they had a few minutes ago, and you could feel him tear out at the very last second, leaving you empty.

“Mmm!”

You cried again as you felt Emmett bite down, his mouth clamped onto your shoulder as he came, stifling his own desperate growl. His cum went not into you but all over you, coating the inside of your legs before he could stop himself. Emmett had clearly waited slightly too long to pull out.

The soft grunt that vibrated through his teeth sent a shiver down your whole body, followed by another as he rubbed himself into the mess that was now dripping between your legs. Chasing the feel of your combined lust and the friction of your thighs.

“Self control, huh?” you goaded, once he had finally pulled his hand off of your mouth.

“More than you.”

Emmett’s rough voice was right in your ear, and you felt his chest press into your back, breathing heavy to make up for lost air.

“Well,” you said, a bit breathless yourself. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

Taglist: @cillmequick, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @red-riding-wood, @slut4thebroken

#emmett x reader #emmett smut #emmett a quiet place #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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bitterchocoo · 5 months

Note

Hello!! Before I leave a request, I would like to ask how are you doing? Are you sleeping well? I also want to say that I really liked the fic with Jin Yuan!! Thank you very much!

Regarding my request! -What about Argenti with the Knight of Beauty! Reader? I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time, but only now am I deciding to write!

It's the same as always - if you don't like it, ignore it!

(I apologize for any mistakes if there are any)

-Anon 🌾

Beauty in All

Argenti | M. Reader

----------

"Although my sleep schedule's a mess, I'm a-okay! When I read your request I was taken aback because I actually was thinking of writing for him. Did you read my mind?"

----------

"You're so beautiful!"

"So handsome!"

"You're very pretty!"

"You look like a doll!"

Those are the worlds he constantly hears, all those compliments, those honeyed, flowery words. So sweet he could have diabetes. They always compliment him on his looks, how elegant he is.

They asked him---no, bombarded him with questions.

"What's your skincare routine?"

"What shampo do you use?"

"Do you use make up?"

And the questions goes on and on with no end to it.

Of course he doesn't deny it either. He knows he's beautiful.

But is beauty all that matters?

They say "I love you" they say "I think I'm in love with you." But is all of that true? At first he was flattered but as time goes on, he began to believe their nothing but lies. They love him yes but do they truly love him? Or are they simply obsessed?

It's clear that they only see him as a doll meant to be placed inside a glass case. To admire.

He's not human to them, but a doll.

When he met Argenti, he was simply indifferent to the other's flowery words. They're mere flattery after all. He didn't mean it... not one bit.. Even though he smiles and thanked him for the gifts, flowers, and compliments. He can't help but feel a little... angry.

Who does he think he is? Some doll he could play with? So what? He's going to leave him once he's bored? Is that it!? He's merely an entertainment for him?! When the Knight said those words with a charming smile. Doubt began to cloud his mind. Is he truly sincere?

He wanted to believe him... he truly wanted to believe him...

But...

"I love you, my dove." The Knight said sweetly as he gave a charming smile.

What a wonderful, loving, and gentle smile... and it was directed to him too... and yet...

"Argenti.." He began slowly as he looks at the other with a stern expression. "Please focus on the mission." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose as if he's trying to get rid of a growing headache. Unlike the rest of the Knights of Beauty [Name] doesn't do any fighting, instead... he's their navigator.

How should those hooligans know where to go without a navigator? They'll be lost in space! Floating in the endless vast of the universe.

Honestly... it's almost as if he's the only one with a brain amongst their blind worship. Yes he's with the Knights of Beauty... Yes [Name] worships Idrila... but he knew for a fact that their Aeon has fallen... if she is how benevolent as the others claimed it to be.. then wouldn't she be answering their calls then? Answering their worship?

Sometimes he wished he could lend the other Knights his thoughts, and... sometimes he hopes for a savior to come, one that got what it takes to convince everyone. To let them see. They could worship her yes, heck! [Name] still worships her even after he knows the truth! But... to blindly follow her Path? To blindly put your own life in danger? For someone who had longed past?

"You're next destination is close to Penacony so..." He began to brief Argenti on his next "expedition."

....How could this happen..?

This isn't supposed to happen... HOW IN THE AEONS NAME DID THEY GOT EATEN BY THE GIANT STING!?!? AND HOW DID HE GOT ROPED INTO ALL OF THIS?!

Without much to do... he merely sticks with Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko as [Name] isn't that much of a fighter himself. He applaud Miss Himeko for being able to do so. As a fellow navigator, she earned his respect.

As the crew continue to investigate they soon discovered Juvenile Stings, and Lesser Stings inside the train. At one point, [Name] was caught in the crossfire.

Just his luck, huh..?

Argenti... being the "Knight in shining armor" he is... decided to put it upon himself in treating his lovely navigator.

The two didn't say a word as [Name] let Argenti treat his wounds. The once smooth skin now turned bloody. Looks like he won't be receiving any more compliments after this... and just like that... he'll be left to rot as their "toy" is now damaged and had lost it's appeal..

Then after a long silence, [Name] spoke up in a quiet tone. A question. One that's been plaguing his mind ever since the Knight confessed his love to him. "Argenti... will you still love me... when I'm no longer young and beautiful..?"

At first, Argenti was taken aback by the sudden question as his smile falters but soon, his smile returns to his face. Even more gentle and loving than before. "Of course, there's beauty in everything. The sight of you being old and wrinkly... your hair that had turned white..."

"It's a look that makes you feel the traditional and history. Even if you were covered in mud, or turning into an old and thin appearance..."

"It's not just the outside, but also the inside... you will grow and become more wiser..."

"It's proof of how time makes you even more beautiful."

"Beauty isn't just about the outside.. but also on the inside.."

"There's beauty in all."

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr argenti #argenti x reader #argenti x male reader #🌾 anon

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souliebird · 7 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 8]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 3.9k

There is a pigeon perched on the streetlamp that sits on the north corner of the block. It's got some sort of stick, most likely, and has been unsuccessfully trying to make a nest for the past hour. Given that the streetlamp is curved, this is a very bad idea, but the bird doesn't know that. The poor things weren't meant to be in the wild and a single stick is not going to save its egg from falling off if it chooses to lay it there. But it keeps at it, picking up the stick and putting it back down at different angles.

Matt very much understands the dumb bird's struggles. He has no idea what the hell he is doing, either. He felt, finally, after many a year, he actually had his shit together. And sure, maybe it was held together with duct tape, a lot of ibuprofen, and multiple prayers, but it was stable and balanced. He had a handle on things, for the most part.

He was doing what he loved, in all aspects of his life - defending people with the law and with his fists. He had Foggy and Karen, and he was working more with the Defenders, and he could be in Frank's presence without a fist fight happening. There was a drop in crime in Hell's Kitchen - he'd stopped the last two crime families who had tried to set up shop here before they even had a foot hold.

Then everything in his universe changed and Matt is now the human equivalent of a pigeon trying to lay an egg on a streetlamp.

He never thought he would be a father. It was something he dreamed about, in the deep recesses of his mind, but he never thought it would be a reality. Not with Daredevil. But, oh did God love to yank on his chain and remind Matt he had no clue what His plans were for him.

Matt wouldn't change it for the world, though. Something fundamental in him changed the moment the words had left your mouth and when he met Minnie for the first time, he knew he was a goner.

He would happily throw himself into the pits of Hell if it would make his daughter smile.

He wants so much to be a good father. Everything in him aches to be half as good as his own father was to him, but he doesn't know how, and he is terrified of fucking it up.

Because if there is one thing Matthew Murdock is good at its fucking things up. Especially when he thinks he means well.

So, Matt is taking in all the lessons God has taught him over the last few years and going against his instincts and he is going to ask for help.

Foggy and Karen should be at his door any minute, if they stop pausing to talk on the stairs, and Matt is going to tell them everything.

He hasn't been this nervous in years and he can't stop pacing. He's pretty sure he's going to wear his path into his floor if he keeps going, but he just adds it to all the other damage the apartment has incurred over the years. It's not like he's getting his security deposit back anyways.

He wants to open his front door and yell at his friends to hurry up, but he doesn't want to alarm them. They know something is up with him, Matt apparently wears his emotions on his sleeve, but they don't know what. He suspects Karen might have an inkling because Karen has an extra sense when it comes to detecting secrets, but Foggy is clueless and Matt doesn't want to worry him.

He allows himself to stop pacing once they reach his landing and tells himself to walk calmly once they knock on the door.

He prides himself in not wrenching the thing off its hinges from his nerves and gives his friends a beaming smile, "I thought you'd never make it up the stairs."

"Oh good," Foggy chimes, clapping Matt on the shoulder as he walks by, "He's still being weird."

"I'm not being weird," Matt counters quickly, only for Karen to pat his cheek when she passes him.

"You're being weird."

He shuts and locks the door before following them into his main living area. Foggy goes straight for the fridge, browsing his beer options while Karen takes residence on the couch. He doesn't need to be able to see to know she's staring at the two big binders sitting on the coffee table.

"Buddy," Foggy starts, popping three beers open with a hiss of the bottles, "the past few weeks you have been Grade A weird. You keep getting this dopey look on your face and spacing out. And usually," he continues, walking leisurely to the couch and handing Karen her beer first, before giving Matt his, "I would suspect a woman, or a man, because the heart wants what the heart or dick wants, but I know Matt Murdock falling for a girl weird. This isn't that type of weird. And this isn't Daredevil weird, because you get broody when it's that. This weird? I don't know this weird. So, spill Murdock, why are you being weird."

"And don't tell us it's nothing," Karen adds. Her beer sloshes in the bottle, indicating she's pointing it at him. "Because I agree with Foggy. We don't know this weird."

Matt deflates just slightly. He guesses he's been way less subtle than he thought he was being.

"Fine, I've been weird, BUT," he says with emphasis, "It's for a very good reason and I want it on the record that I was not hiding anything or keeping it secret. I was confirming all the facts before presenting my case. I.." he pauses to choose his words carefully, "didn't want to get ahead of myself."

"You didn't want to get ahead of yourself?" Foggy confirms and he gives a nod.

The response is for both Karen and Foggy to take long sips of their respective beers. Matt's nerves are too riled up to drink his, yet so he starts to scratch at the label to get the energy out.

"So, this is Devil related?" Foggy asks. There's a hint of disappointment and exhaustion in his voice and it makes Matt's heart hurt. He has really put his best friend through it, hasn't he?

"No. Well, yes, but no. It's complicated." Because the Devil is involved by default because it is Matt and it will be something that needs to be addressed down the road, but for right now, no. Not Devil related.

"That's not very reassuring," Karen points out.

"Just tell us, buddy. Whatever it is, we're here for you."

That makes Matt's lips turn down, "It isn't a bad thing, Fog."

"Well, we wouldn't know that because you've told us nothing," Foggy counters.

His instinct is to keep bantering with Foggy and he knows they can go at it for another hour, but he reminds himself of his resolve and settles back into the couch.

He's practiced his speech about a dozen times but all of it dies in his throat and the truth comes out on its own, blunt and to the point.

"I am a father."

Foggy has the more intense reaction, confirming Matt's suspension that Karen had an idea at the truth. His best friend inhales sharply, heart starting to beat harder in his chest. His body is sending all sorts of signals, and this is one of the times Matt wishes he could see - just to know what expression Foggy has.

It feels like hours before Fog finally says something.

"You're going to be a father?"

"No," Matt corrects, "I AM a father. I already am."

Karen leans forward, her spine creaking and her hair swishing, "The little girl. From last week. That's her, isn't it?"

Matt nods, feeling a smile start to pull at his cheeks, "Yeah. That was her."

"Oh my God, Matt!" He hears her weight shift as she pushes herself across the couch and right into Matt, loosely throwing her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it, hugging her back with the arm not holding his beer. "She is adorable!"

"She is, isn't she?" He preens.

Foggy's brain finally seems to process the information and he sits on the arm of one of the chairs, like he needs the support, "Wait, no, that was a toddler, wasn't it? That child was like five."

"She's three. And a half." Matt says as Karen pulls away from him to go back to her spot.

Foggy's bottle of beer sloshes and Matt imagines he's holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sorry, three and a half. Plus, nine months that would…Jesus, Matt, that's before we started the firm. The first time."

"Blasphemy, Foggy. And.. Yeah, the Christmas before we started the firm. When we were still at L and Z," he allows himself a sip of beer before diving into his explanation, "That Christmas party we went to, the one good one we ditched the L and Z one for."

Foggy shakes his head, "I was with you that whole night, Matt."

"Until you ditched me for the French woman," he gently reminds his best friend.

Foggy goes quiet and he must be trying to remember. Matt can tell Karen is watching like a hawk, keen eyes and ears trying to unravel the whole story.

"I forgot about the French woman. She ditched me and I guess I assumed you left and…" Fog trails off.

"Well, I did leave, to be fair," he reminds them. "Just not alone."

"Jesus, Matt," Foggy repeats and he lets it slide this time. He'll say an extra Hail Mary for him. "Did you not wrap it up?"

Both Karen and Matt give a bark of laughter.

"Of course, I did. And she was on the pill, but you know that is not a guarantee."

"Why come forward now?" Karen asks, redirecting the conversation.

"She didn't know who I was. She says she tried to find me, and she wasn't lying. Then she saw that interview we did and recognized me," he tells them.

He hears Foggy rub at his jaw and Matt just knows his brain is going into lawyer mode.

"But why did she tell you," Karen pushes, and he can tell she's looking for an angle that isn't there.

He ducks his chin just slightly and goes back to playing with the beer label, "It's not like that. It's not. She wants what is best for Minnie. She wanted me to be aware and have the option to get to know her. She was fully prepared for me to turn her away. She had already signed the forms waiving her right to ask for child support. The only thing she wanted was to know my family medical history."

"Her name is Minnie?" Karen cooes and that warms Matt's heart. He suddenly very much understands your need to gush over your daughter.

"It is. Winifred Love. She goes by Minnie or Mouse," he knows he's smiling like an idiot, but he can't help it.

"That is such a sweet name," Karen hums and he can hear her smile.

"It is," he agrees, then he tilts his head towards Foggy, his voice dropping to something almost apologetic. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure. She wasn't lying when she said I was the father, but that could have been because she believed I was. And I am. We got a paternity test and I wanted…I wanted it to be official. Real. Before I told you. And now it is. My name is going to be added to her birth certificate. I filed the paperwork and everything."

He can't nail down how Foggy is reacting and that scares him. He doesn't want his best friend to be upset with him, again. He was really, really trying to do the right thing this time.

Foggy finally, finally pushes himself off the chair and steps around the coffee table before enveloping Matt in a tight hug. Matt hugs him back, just as tightly.

"I'm so happy for you, buddy," Fog breathes against him. The corners of his eyes start to sting, and Matt tells himself he is Not going to cry.

Foggy holds him for a good thirty seconds before letting go and stepping away, "Okay, before we jump into the whole Daredevil -"

"I'm going to tell her," Matt cuts his friend off. He puts his beer down and leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, "Not right now, but I completely intend to. If I can trust her. I think I can, but we've only just really met again. But I've learned. From both of you. I want to do this right. I want to tell her about my senses, first, and then we can build up to the other stuff. Once I am completely sure I can trust her."

Neither Karen nor Foggy respond to him right away and he has the feeling they are having a complete conversation with just their eyes. He waits. He doesn't want to rush them either. Matt wants to go into this with all of them on the same page. It's important to him.

They are his family, too.

"Tell us about them," Karen finally says and Matt doesn't even try to fight the grin that spreads across his face.

He tells them your name, then reaches for the first of the binders - the one that is twice the size of the other.

"She's…she's Good. You'll like her. She, uh, made me this, kind of big guide to our daughter. Everything I need to know and it's…in Braille. She knew I couldn't read print, so uh, all of Minnie's life she's been requesting copies of documents in Braille for when she found me." He pushes the binder towards Karen, and she picks it up in a flash, starting to flip through the pages.

"This is pretty detailed," she hums, before cooing again, "There's pictures. Look, Fog."

Foggy walks around the couch to stand behind Karen. Matt can tell that even though they are both Happy for him, they are worried, and he more than understands. He knows once he tells them more, that worry will fade.

He just needs to drop the final off the bombshells.

He licks his lips, clears his throat, then throws himself into the open, "Minnie is like me. She has my senses."

They both go as still as they can, taking identical sharp inhales.

"Not as…intense as mine, I don't think, but she has them. I.. Confirmed it. She could hear an ice cream truck four city blocks away."

"Matt…" Foggy starts and Matt shakes his head.

"We had a conversation, Fog. Clear across the park. I was whispering. She's…she's like me. She was born with it, but she's adapted, for the most part. Her mom just thinks she's sensitive, and she is, and she…she.." he motions with his hand, trying to convey what he wants to say, "Her mom helps. She gets her these headphones to block out sounds and all these things to help her. She just does it, she's doesn't question the why. All those little stupid things that make my life more annoying - the smell of cleaning supplies and how food tastes like the sewer or that certain fibers feel like sandpaper - Minnie deals with those and her Mom does her best so that she doesn't have to suffer. And that's…I need your help." He taps the second, smaller binder. "She made me a guide, so I want to make her one. I just…I don't know how."

He deflates a little. Over the past two weeks, he's done his best to type things up, things he thinks will help, but he has no clue if any of it makes sense to anyone but him.

"Oh, Matt," Karen hands the big binder off to Foggy, then leans forward to take Matt's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, "Of course we will help you."

"We will make the best how to deal with your bat radar guide that has ever existed, bud. You can count on us," Foggy adds, starting to flip through the binder himself.

That evaporates Matt's doubt, and he huffs out a laugh, "I don't think there is another guide, Fog."

"Then we will set the standard for human bat radar guides," Karen counters with mirth.

"I'll drink to that," his best friend says, once again moving so he can grab his drink. He raises the bottle in a toast, "To the best damn bat radar guide there will ever be, and to Matt, whose man whore ways have blessed us with another him!"

Matt scoops up with beer with a laugh and clinks his bottle against Foggy's, Karen's joining a moment later.

"To Minnie," Karen adds and that makes Matt beam.

"To Minnie!"

They all take long pulls on their beers then set them down on the table.

Matt can practically feel Karen grinning at him, "What?"

"I want stories," she says, reaching over to shake his arm, "You've told us the big picture, I want to know about this little pumpkin. How many times have you gotten to meet her?"

"A few times," he says, unable to hide his own smile. "She calls me Mister Matt. We haven't told her who I am yet. We want her to be comfortable and I…want her to want me to be her father, you know?" He hears both of them nod and he keeps barreling on. "She's…she's perfect. She's so sweet - she loves to use her manners, you know? Please and Thank yous. And she just wants to help, with anything. She's pretty good for a three year old at being a Guide. I'm learning a lot about what she thinks is important."

"What is important?" Foggy asks, and Matt can hear the underlying happiness in his voice and that makes Matt giddy.

"Colors. How soft something looks. If it has a name and how it's feeling." He grins and adds, "At the park she was telling me how we can't walk in the grass because it's rude and hurts the grass' feelings. And that we can't pick flowers because it takes them away from their families and makes them sad."

Karen cooes, "That's the sweetest thing."

Foggy huffs fondly, "She wanted to pick flowers with you?"

He shrugs and ducks his head a little, "Kinda? She was talking about how to make flower crowns and bracelets."

"Is she going to make you a flower crown?" Karen asks, and Matt can sense her leaning towards him. The teasing in her voice has him guessing she's got her Mischievous look on.

"Maybe."

"That's so sweet."

"It's so 2014," Foggy adds with his own teasing.

Karen throws one of the throw pillows he's somehow accumulated at Foggy, "She's a baby, leave her alone."

Both he and Foggy laugh and Matt can't help but get his own dig in, "Like you would deny a flower crown from her."

"Damn right, I wouldn't," his best friend bites back. "I'm accepting all flower crowns, hair braiding, nail painting, and tea parties. I am going to be the best uncle she could ever dream of - wait, does she already have an uncle? Do I need to do research? I'll out Uncle anyone."

Matt shakes his head, "No, it's just the two of them. No other family. It seems like a sensitive topic, so I haven't.. Pushed. She hasn't either, but my background is a little more…public? I haven't told her about Maggie, yet."

The couch groans as Karen leans back into it, sipping again at her beer before humming, "Well, it will be easier to keep your late night activities under wrap. Less people to question things?"

"That's a way to put it," is the response from his other friend. Matt shakes his head at both their words.

"I told you I want to tell her, once it's safe. I need your help with that, too," Matt pushes himself up and starts to pace behind his couch, "With everything we've been through, all the things we've been working on as a team - and I know most of that is me with all my bullshit and issues." He stops his walking to rub at his jaw, "I know…I know I'm going to be bad at this. I know I'm going to fuck something up. I've done it to both of you countless times. And I can't give up on being the Devil, we've seen how it goes when I try to go either way, so I need to find the balance quick but I can't.." He trails off slightly as the emotions swell in his chest at his self sabotaging this and he has to inhale deeply to keep himself from getting too worked up. "I can't lose them. I can't."

"Oh, Matt," Karen whispers.

He's so caught up in his own emotions he doesn't hear Foggy get up and actually starts when he's clapped on the shoulder, "Matt, let me say this with my full heart, and I know Karen will one hundred percent agree, and I'm pre-facing this with I love you and you are my brother and best friend, and I think this is exactly what you need me to tell you. If you pull any of the bullshit you did with us with them or anything similar, I will personally drop you into the Hudson. After Karen is through with you."

It catches him off guard, but his best friend is right and it is exactly what he needs to hear.

"There would not be anything left to dispose of," Karen cheerily adds and Matt doesn't need super human hearing to know she's telling the truth.

He nods in understanding to both of them, "Thank you." He needs to properly thank them for so many things, but he doesn't know how and all he can do is repeat the words.

"So," Foggy starts again, squeezing Matt's shoulder before shaking him a few times. "When do I get to meet my newest niece?"

"Once we tell her the truth about who I am to her. I'm going over for dinner tomorrow, to try and be in more everyday things to get her used to it all." He wonders if his excitement about the dinner is showing through. He gets to visit where you and his daughter live and that always says so much about a person. He wants to be let into that bubble.

"Wait!" Karen gasps, turning more in her seat so she is facing towards the two of them, "If Foggy gets to be Uncle, does that mean I'm an Aunt?"

"Do you want to be?" He asks, because it is obviously a 'yes' in his mind.

Karen considers this, Foggy narrating, "She's debating on her head, doing the whole tilting it one way and then the next."

"Oh, hush, Fog! Of course, I want to be!"

This quickly dissolves into playful bickering.

"Aunt Karen has a good ring to it."

"Oh, like Uncle Foggy is much better?"

Matt grins and finds his way back to his seat and his beer. He grabs the bottle and takes a long sip, listening to two of the most important people in his life bask in the glow of their little family getting bigger.

Maybe, just maybe, he isn't as helpless and lost as he thinks he is.

Maybe it will all be okay.

He just needs to have faith.

taglist:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you

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dvzaiosamu · 21 days

Text

Contains 12 hc and one short oneshot.

From a scale from 1 to 10, Dazai would probably be 7,5/10

Dazai is a guy who doesn't always get jealous, but that doesn't take away from the fact that he could easily get jealous if he feels like someone has crossed a line.

He is the type of person who can make his jealousy evident, even if it sometimes doesn't seem like it.

Dazai usually observes the situation first, either analyzing the subject or those around him and using them around him, this he will use to his advantage when he has to act.

He will approach you first, no matter who it is, he will most likely approach you and put his arms around your waist and rest his head on the back of your neck or on your shoulder.

He's the kind of person who would hug you first or whisper a few things in your ear like, "Who's that?" but things don't end there.

Depending a little on who it is, he will show different behaviors. For example, if Dazai sees you with Chuuya, and he himself is drunk and accidentally flirts with you, Dazai will get very jealous at that moment, but he will become more needy. Possibly he would get affectionate and try to demonstrate to Chuuya's face how he kisses, hugs or makes him nervous before leaving, but not before sticking out his tongue in mockery towards the redhead or giving him the middle finger.

Dazai being a threat to the entire society, since the majority is a victim of his comments and certain attitudes, Osamu will take you out of the place, perhaps he will wait for you to get home or directly in an alley he will start kissing you in a aggressive and needily manner. You will be inundated with all kinds of loving comments that have double meanings coming from him.

He is usually an individual who does not care much about being in public or private, just being able to show you that he is yours or that you are his is more than enough for him.

Speaking of other things, depending on the degree of his need to remind you again who you belong to, he may leave you alone and unmarked, but there are times when he will nibble you everywhere he can see, and his favorite part is your neck and lips.

Things might escalate to more if his neediness is also reciprocal.

If you want, of course, he'll try to not do anything without your permission, but sometimes he just can't help to.

ONESHOT INCLUDED.

There was a heavy air that settled in the atmosphere, falling on the shoulders of mortals. A caramel and vinous mixture ripples in the ambient air, making those in the bar drunker than they were from the alcohol, a numbness in some of those humans.

That bar was famous for having the best wines that a rich man's pocket could buy and collect. The burning frivolity that heat instills in the brain was commonly noted, and it was no surprise to one to see people almost falling over.

You were sitting comfortably in a chair enjoying a glass of wine, taking advantage of the fact that you wouldn't get drunk easily with a mere glass of red wine.

Next to you was a certain drunk teenager, unaware of his surroundings, in his mind he saw his hand around the neck of the wine glass, and nothing else. The alcohol surrounded his brain and ate away at his conscience, leaving him irrational.

In a blink and a turn of his head, the teenager sees you, dressed rather elegantly, enjoying your wine. That teenager had his black hair tied to one side, while the other side was kept wavy, along with a haircut that extended to the nape of his neck. His clothes were honestly casual, some would say he looked like a bum, and the truth is they weren't lying.

"Hello, beautiful, tell me, how are you doing so alone?" the typical question launches into the attack, and your ears swallow that question, processing it. That teenager couldn't have been more than seventeen years old, and it seemed ridiculous to you since you were about twenty-three in comparison.

“I’m not interested in flirting with you, bum,” you tell him, your words rolling off your tongue like sour poison. "To tell the truth, I wouldn't even want to do anything with you, since you're still underage, and you're also too young to drink alcohol, I don't know why you're even here."

Your words don't please him too much and he doesn't hesitate to get up from his seat, approaching you and walking clumsily like a duck.

"What have you said?" his voice is almost incomprehensible due to the effect of the alcohol of the wine he shouldn't have drunk in the first place. "Come on, just one night..."

"Exactly what you heard."

"Playing hard to get, eh?" he slurrs out.

"Not exactly, but if you don't want to end up humiliated or, at worst, dead, I suggest you stop making me feel uncomfortable, turn around, and start walking away from my sight if you'd be so kind," you smile.

Hands are placed on your abdomen and slowly go down to your hips, and out of nowhere you feel the familiar warmth of someone pressing their body against your back, their head resting on your shoulder and their breath on your bare skin making you shiver.

“I sincerely apologize if I interrupt anything…” you feel a small kiss on your neck. "But I think I have to highlight a factor that you don't seem to notice, young teenager. This girl is mine, she is my property and I want her to be mine until we both die," he paused to adjust his hands on your torso. "Look, I appreciate you showing me with your lapdog behavior that my wife is a human beauty, but let me tell you: she already has an owner, okay? It's not that hard to process, is it now?"

You don't know why, but you can assume that it is because of that, that the teenager soon walked away to look for more girls in the area, while Dazai was triumphant, still sheltering you with his warmth.

“You know…sometimes you're very direct, but I'm not saying I don't like it,” you tell him, smiling slightly as you turn to rest your hands on his chest.

"It was necessary... Did you see how that horrible teenager looked at you?" He pouts embarrassedly as he hides his face in your breasts, then begins to place small kisses along your collarbone and slightly visible breasts.

A shudder runs down your spine.

"Stop being so needy, 'samu," you mutter, but he doesn't stop there. His hands slide down your body, and with a sly smirk, like a witty fox, he starts to suck on your skin, intending to mark you.

Smiling, he steps away from your body a little, and raises his hands in the air, surrendering like a prisoner would when seeing the police officer pointing a gun at him, which in this case was your eyes, a furious look.

"I am still yours, aren't I, baby?" he whispers with a wink, a seductive tinge that swirls into the art of the human love.

"Again with this? I though I had already told you many times," you roll your eyes. "Of course you are, Osamu, dear."

"That's what I wanted to hear," he tilts his head with a smug, his hands enclasp with yours as he pulls you against a wall, and you let a surprised gasp. "Music to my ears."

"Dazai, not now, let's go home!"

With a giggle and a wink, he walks away from your side, but not before giving you a kiss on the corner of your mouth and trotting away from there, waiting for you to chase him home.

#bsd #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #osamudazai #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd headcanons #hc

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luveline · 9 months

Note

Congrats on 40k Jade! Also hi, I hope you're having a great day (I'm really nervous this is my first time sending in a request I'm so sorry if I sound weird)

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤 —send me a hurt/comfort request for any reader and any character and I'll write a ficlet, 2k or less

Can I request a reader that has a bit of a temper and got told that no one would like her because of it so she's a bit insecure about herself? My favourite character is James so maybe with him or with Remus whichever you prefer (and they reassure her and it's awesome because your writing is just so awesome)

Congrats again <3

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you so much, you didn't sound weird at all dw ♡ fem!reader

The day has been long, your feet dragging up the steps to Remus' flat. His door sticks and the only radiator that doesn't need bleeding is the one in his bedroom, so it's cold, and you're irked. You kick out of your pinching shoes and hang your jacket up, which falls on the floor. You pick it up and it falls again. Huffing, you put it on the sideboard and trudge down the hallway to Remus bedroom.

"Hello, my lovely," he says without looking up.

There's a notebook in his lap. He's wearing his reading glasses. If you were in a better mood you'd try to distract him by laying across his thighs. As it stands, you're fucking exhausted. You flop down in his bed and curl towards him where he's sitting against the headboard.

"Tired?" he asks.

"Mm." Tired isn't the right word, but the right word makes people cringe at you.

Today has been awful and you hate the part of you that wants to rail about it. You can't help how you feel; this anger glows molten. It makes you hate yourself, which irks you worse. You grab one of his pillows and pull it against your chest to squeeze it until your arms hurt.

"Bad day?" he asks, pen scratching.

You exhale. "A bit," you say into the pillowcase.

"Sorry, dovey," he says. There's the sound of paper leaves catching against one another and the clink of a pen put away. "What did you say? I needed to finish writing that edit down before I forgot."

You're not mad at him in particular but your voice comes out tightly strung anyhow, "I said it was a bit of a bad day."

Remus hears your tone and refuses to skirt around the issue. Not from a want to be confrontational, but a direct way of going about things. "What, are you mad at me?"

"No," you say, turning away from him.

"You seem mad."

"I think I am."

"Well, now you don't sound mad," he says, dipping down to talk into the back of your neck. "Now you sound upset. Have I upset you?"

"No, Remus," you say. Mad to sad to mad again, your shoulder and spine ache with rigidity.

All his questions didn't make you mad, but you were mad to begin with, and so what might usually be very normal turns to irritating. In the moment, you've no hope of controlling it, and, not wanting to further subject Remus to any misdirected annoyance, you shuffle out of his reach. "I just need a minute," you say.

Remus is used to your temper, though you often worry he'll grow tired of you and your big moods and throw in the towel. You count useless numbers in your head and curl your fists into balls until your bones feel like they're too big for your skin, wanting to deal with it alone.

A minute or two later and Remus reaches for your side. "I was trying to lighten the mood, and it wasn't my best work," he says, tip of his thumb drawing semi circles into your shirt.

Remus taking the blame for your emotions has you frowning, rabbit-holing into twisting thoughts. He's always been good for you and good to you, accepting of your short fuse. He's not always sunshine and lollipops himself. But, he's not angry half as often as you are. Does that bother him? People have said to you before that your temper will be the ruining of a good thing, that Remus won't want to deal with it. And it makes sense.

You don't want to deal with it either. You don't really feel like you have much choice when it comes to being mad.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Mattress springs groan as he leverages himself closer to you. Familiar, his hand sneaks under your shirt to tickle the soft roll of your stomach. He draws a slow and winding line with no end nor goal in mind, uncaring of the pouch you get laying down. Remus doesn't really care about anything that could be marked superficial. It's one of the many reasons that he's markedly the best person you know; he loves everything that you hate about yourself without hesitation. Like your anger.

"Do you want to set a rule?" he asks.

"Pardon?"

"Humour me. Let's make a condition before we have this conversation." Remus stops drawing to slide his hand between your hip and the mattress, hugging you to him. "I'll assume you're not mad at me even if you sound angry, and you can assume I don't mind."

"Do you mind?" you ask.

"Well, I don't love when you're angry, but I know it isn't at me so it won't matter."

Reassured enough to face him, you meet his eyes.

"I know I have a tendency to make it sound like I'm angry at you when I'm really mad at someone else," you say.

"That's not true. And I ask, don't I? If I think you're mad at me?" Remus' already dulcet voice drops to a murmur, words said slowly and with as much care as a person can put into words alone, "I don't know why you feel like you're such a bad person for being angry."

"Because it's all the time," you say. Your throat burns with the effort that it takes to stay intelligible.

"It's not all the time."

"It's often, and it's not fair to you."

"It's not fair to take it out on other people, and I promise you I'd let you know if you were doing that. So… could you just tell me why you're mad? Without worrying I'll take it personally."

"It's not about taking it personally, I don't want you to take it personally, but it's just– it's just ugly, isn't it?"

Remus frowns. "Honestly? I don't think so. You have to be angry sometimes. Everyone gets angry and those feelings need somewhere to go, or it'll eat you up inside and make you bitter instead. Like… okay, he'll forgive me for telling you this, but Sirius used to get into these awful angry tirades where he'd shout at nothing, you know? And I hated seeing him do it, but I wasn't sitting there thinking he was ugly for it. I just kind of hated that something was able to occupy him so heavily. And that's how I feel about it when it happens to you, dove."

"He used to?" you ask, the bridge of your nose flat to his knee.

"Yeah, he did." Remus pushes your shoulder flat to the bed beneath you and leans in to give you a kiss. The corner of your mouth takes the brunt of it.

"Did you kiss him like this, or–"

Remus laughs and hugs you, "A discussion for another day," he murmurs. He gives you a last kiss and squeeze and then sits up. "So shout at me."

"I don't want to shout at you."

"You know what I mean. Tell me what pissed you off today."

"Are you sure?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm sure, I like the way your eyes look anyways, when you get riled up." Remus finds your hand to hold. "Tell me, dove. I'll be angry with you."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders #luveline's 40k party

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