#The differences in their uniforms makes me think of one of two things: | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

envy-of-the-apple · 4 months ago

Text

Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)

When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat.

It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you.

He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable.

Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that.

"Still with me?"

Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that.

"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together."

The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute.

You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you.

"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away.

You look at him, eyes shimmering like water.

You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—"

He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in.

"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted."

You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it.

The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color.

☾

If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable.

Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read.

You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask.

Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before.

You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him.

He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him.

"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude.

"C'mere, pretty girl."

You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body.

He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers.

Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting.

"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?"

Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter.

"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here.

You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.

He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes.

"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit.

Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.

You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white.

And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort.

He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon.

☾

Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming.

Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly.

You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables.

It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment.

Not a bad one.

It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day.

Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made.

It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him.

You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows.

It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere.

"Smells good," he says.

You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow.

Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles.

But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time.

"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet."

He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip.

"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week."

Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.

Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.

"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame."

You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable.

"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers.

"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours."

You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly.

"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?"

The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting.

"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on.

Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl."

You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly.

Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.

You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war.

"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave.

"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl."

You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy.

He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack.

"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight.

"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.

Right, you pick your battles.

☾

Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later.

He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes.

It's like you left with his heart.

No, you ran away with his soul.

One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't.

His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same.

Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are.

You left him.

You left him to rot.

Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's.

That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone.

He misses you.

Why wouldn't he? You were his everything.

Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office.

Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night.

Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru.

“Gojo, sir?”

He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages.

“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.

Why did Suguru take off now?

“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.”

Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.”

Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression.

It was a little annoying to look at.

☾

Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along.

And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too.

Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring.

The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no.

"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring.

"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest.

He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't.

"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it."

You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy.

"You get that, right?"

You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes.

He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding.

About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing.

"Suguru!" He waves over.

You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years.

Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be.

"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs.

When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs.

"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him.

"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again."

Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?"

"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time."

Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene.

The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that.

"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along.

Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off.

"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins.

"I loved my gift. Thanks, man."

Suguru's smile is catlike.

"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again.

You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge.

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed."

From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—

"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act."

Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's.

He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name.

"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot.

Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves.

"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second.

Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off.

"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved."

Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens.

"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline.

Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none.

"I'll be sure to save the date."

Then he shuts Satoru down completely.

"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says.

You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things."

"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."

"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me."

You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red.

When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him.

"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall.

Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment.

"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—"

"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath."

"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not.

"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress."

You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips.

"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—"

"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself."

He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact.

He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much.

He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now.

He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.

☾

When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot.

In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear.

It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you.

Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder.

He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces.

But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you.

You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you.

But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit.

His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for.

He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it

"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?"

The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh.

You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares.

"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?"

You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat.

"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have."

"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar."

To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it.

"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces."

You nod, eager to take the out.

"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces."

How adorable. You haven't changed since high school.

He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned.

But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.

And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it.

"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—"

"Get out."

The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit.

"Um, what?"

"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out."

"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back.

"Wait." Satoru stops her.

"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her.

He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want.

He needs you. He can't wait anymore.

He needs you, whether you want him or not.

☾

Satoru wakes up to something crashing.

It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy.

These noises are a little more concerning.

He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open.

"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer.

You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering.

Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles.

A positive pregnancy test.

"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it."

"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung.

When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary.

He's finally cracked you.

"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—"

You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts.

"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."

You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while.

"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you."

It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm.

"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here."

Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you.

"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request.

"I can't," he honestly says.

"You won't." You correct him.

He smiles in your hair.

"No baby," he says, "I can't."

If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before.

You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest

"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him.

God, he loves you.

"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says.

"I hope our baby looks exactly like you."

You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be.

If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere x reader #dark content #implied smut #dark gojo satoru x reader #dark jjk x reader #reader-insert

1K notes · View notes

alfheimr · 7 months ago

Text

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

#process #art tutorial #unsure what else to tag this as. if this does not post properly i will cry.

2K notes · View notes

vaxxman · 7 months ago

Note

Could I request Medic having The Mom Grip on Scout’s shoulder after the speedy moron almost let a mercenary secret slip while they weee getting groceries?

Three Europeans and two Americans walk into a grocery store in New Mexico.

I hope this is the right meme.

More silliness below.

This comic is the antithesis of the "wtf is a kilometre" joke.

The faces they make when they can't quite identify the type of brown bread in the bread aisle.

You don't know how [insert nationality here] you are until you go overseas and things are different.

Spy obviously has no problems with pretending to know how much a gallon of milk is, he just peeks into his conversion chart notes, pretending it's his shopping list.

I want to think Heavy is completely fine with having to readjust to a new unit system, he just eyeballs most practical things anyways by holding them up and mumbling about how they approximately weigh like a chicken or his kettle bell etc. He's always been living in practical ignorant bliss.

Medic has a peer reviewed meltdown the first time he realises there's no uniformity in "a cup of ____" because every object has different densities. He's diligent about memorising the conversion rates for ounces, pounds, the most common things etc., and recovers ok. He goes through the same stages of grief rage when he finds out about distances and lengths.

Just remember four inches are 10.16 cm and pray no one asks you to specify anything bigger than inches.

Everyone does a mental victory lap when they manage to guess how much Celsius the weather is because they keep forgetting it's Celsius*5/9+32=Fahrenheit, Engineer reminds them patiently.

The true victories are the correct temperature guesses we've made along the way.

One time, a friend asked me if I actually knew how much a tablespoon of flour was in gramms to convince me that metric users also make use of volume based units without thinking about them. But little did she know a heaped spoonful of 405 flour is about 15g and a level tablespoon is 10g.

They claim Oolong just tastes better when it's boiled to 80°C exactly with a Bunsen burner.

You only asked for one scene but somehow I came up with a bunch of other things. This post was drawn across 2 months so the artstyle is all over the place. Thanks for your ask!

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 heavy #tf2 soldier #Medic's reaction to a stick of butter is 100% based on my own reaction after reading an American recipe for the first time #Like I didn't know butter in America came in this normed stick-form I genuinely thought it was some arbitrary unit like ??? A Stick??#As in I didn't know if the recipe required the butter to be in this specific shape; like sometimes you have to add butter in shaves or molt #no biggie lemme whittle away at my butter block until it's shaped like a stick? And then I learnt it was the portions that butter comes in #Cut me some slack; I'm used to recipes using eggs as the scale-up ingredient; not butter #I also learnt that medical labels is where metric units are mostly encountered simply because medicine is international #But that is the main reason why I think Medic would not realise he'd have to deal with imperial units until he goes grocery shopping #The man's just been ignoring the “oz” information right below everything he's ever used; out of sight out of mind #I want to think Engi is the most normal person about the entire metric-imperial-units thing he just does some mental arithmetic and done #King just learned système international d'unités during one of his 11 phds; it's not unrealistic

2K notes · View notes

cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months ago

Note

HEAR ME OUT

“Don’t you think I’m scary?”

“Scary? My god you’re divine”

AHHHHH

FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋

I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻

PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx

fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !

before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.

he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.

he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.

and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'

anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.

usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.

but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.

katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.

but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.

you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."

"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.

he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."

"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.

"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.

pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.

he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.

"behave." you squeeze his hand.

"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.

"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.

you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"

"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.

"..how'd you-"

"your mom told me."

he grunts. of course, it was his mom.

that damn hag..

"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.

"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"

"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.

"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.

"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"

"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.

"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.

cool.

you think he looks cool.

"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.

"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.

"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.

"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.

"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.

"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)

he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.

finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.

"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.

"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask

"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.

"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.

until—

"OW, fuck !!"

your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!

until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.

the. asshole.

"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.

katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"

"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.

"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.

"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.

"i see you laughing."

today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.

#thanks for the ask anon!#it was super fun to write and a fun way to come back from break !#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n

1K notes · View notes

beansoup3000 · 1 year ago

Text

You know what's so devastating to me about "God that I were a man"? It's the way that in this situation, Beatrice is not exceptional. In the first acts, she appears to be exempt from the gender roles that everyone around her complies with: she has avoided marriage so far, and she has license to playfully criticize and reject being "over-master'd with a piece of valiant dust" (2.2.55-56). She even suggests to Hero that she claim some agency over her engagement: "it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy, and say, 'father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say, 'father, as it please me'" (2.1.48-51). Beatrice has carved out an existence for herself that everyone else tolerates; her wit allows her to live outside of people's expectations of womanhood.

But Beatrice is not exempt from being a woman. When it actually matters, when Hero is disgraced by powerful men with no regard for her wellbeing or humanity, Beatrice can't do anything about it. And "God that I were a man" is so painful because it reminds us--and Benedick--that no matter how transcendent Beatrice appears to be, she is still constrained by her role in Messina's society. Back in act one and act two, the reason that she was allowed to poke fun at men wasn't that she couldn't be stopped; it was that it didn't matter. She has no actual power to change the order of things, and so her verbal sparring is not a threat.

(An aside: I think that Benedick is taken aback by "God that I were a man" because this has never really occurred to him. He sees Beatrice as his intellectual equal, and he has watched her carve out space for herself effectively (they know each other of old). In the 2011 production with David Tennant, the costuming and acting choices show how Benedick starts actively performing masculinity only when he accepts Beatrice's request to kill Claudio--when he has to "be a man for [Beatrice's] sake" (4.1.314). In the first acts, he wears tight clothes, a crop top, and a miniskirt. From the wedding on, he wears his military uniform and then a suit. His body language also changes; he abandons physical comedy, stands tall, and emotes less when he speaks to Claudio and Don Pedro. He wields his masculinity as a weapon because he now realizes it's a weapon that Beatrice cannot wield herself.)

The crashing realization of Beatrice's limits is so devastating to me because it's so familiar. I can only speak from experiences I've had, but as a queer woman I know that tolerance is different than empowerment. That having grown up evading dating and romance with made-up excuses to hide my queerness, having realized the extent of the misogyny in an organization I cared about and having grappled with how that misogyny prevented me from effecting change, being allowed to exist is not the same as being able to participate, to make things different. God, that I were a man. I would eat his heart in the marketplace.

#much ado about nothing #david tennant

3K notes · View notes

leviismybby · 8 months ago

Text

Bad Idea

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, nsfw 18+, mdni, virginity loss, age gap! Levi is in his 30s, the reader in her 20s, oh this is rough filth

Levi didn't care about the assigned rooms, his mind focused on the upcoming mission. His grey eyes follow the building where he will be staying for the next few days before heading outside of the walls. He heads inside, looking for his room number, he wonders if you're ready there and what you think about having to share a room with him. He knocks before entering just in case, the last thing he wanted to do is make you uncomfortable. When you say that he can come in, he does, carrying not but a single bag with him. The room was small and it had a single bed. Great. Just perfect.

You look at your Captain before your eyes fall on the bed, there was space for the two of you but it didn't make the situation any less tense. "I can sleep on the floor." That makes Levi look at you as he closes the door behind him, if anything he is the one who can sleep on the floor or the chair, he has a hard time sleeping anyway. "Nonesense There's room for both of us." He adds, setting his bag down on the bedside table, you don't speak on the matter further, he is the captain and questioning his orders is a bad idea. You nod not knowing what to say next, you don't know him that well.

As the sun set you were getting ready for bed, you had an early day and couldn't wait to get under the sheets, even of they are the same sheets your captain will be using too. After changing into your pyjamas and brushing your teeth, tou came back into the room which was now dimly lit as Levi sat at the desk writing at the paperwork with a candle burning next to him. He pays you no mind continuing to do this thing, you don't want to disturb him but you had to ask. "Ugh captain, which side would you like?" That catches his attention and he looks back at you, his eyes checks you up and down quickly before answering. "Who fucking cares. Sleep where you want." With that he turns back to finish the paperwork, he sighs slighty, you were a pretty girl in his eyes and it irritated him. "And please call me Levi."

Getting under the sheets, you try to make yourself comfortable, the only noises in the room are the quill Levi is writing with. You close your eyes trying to get sleep to wash over you but it doesn't, instead you turn and twist in the sheets, he makes you nervous, incredibly nervous and you would never admit to anyone just how much you're attracted to him, he was good eight years older than you and that added to the appeal. You rub your thighs together slighty, this wasn't a place to think about those things, he never even looked at you differently, it was ridiculous to get these naughty thoughts especially now when the man was in the same room as you. And you don't even know what it feels like, you were never with a man, sure you had your kisses but your first was something you want to give someone special.

After sometime of tossing in the bed, Levi sits on his side, your back in turned on him but you can hear him take his boots off. Was he going to sleep in his uniform...? Levi lays down on the other side, keeping his distance, he knows you're not sleeping and wonders what is keeping you awake. "Can't sleep?" He asks after sometime, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "..no...my thoughts won't let me." You say with honesty, it was the truth however you definitely aren't telling him what kind of thoughts tho, he doesn't need to know. Levi looks at you, your back still turned on him, you look around the dark room, waiting for him to reply. "Your thoughts huh? Or is that you don't want to share the bed with me?" Levi can tell by your body language that something is up, you don't seem all too comfortable.

"What?? Not its not that.....I am not uncomfortable it's just-" You cut yourself off, not wanting him to think less of you. Taking a deep breath you continue to talk. "I have never shared a bed with a man." Those words are said quickly and quietly but Levi hears them all. A slight curiosity runs through him, it shouldn't, you were his subordinate, he really shouldn't be thinking what he is thinking right now. "Is that so? Never had a boyfriend?" There's something about his voice that sounds mocking, almost as of he is teasing you. "Not really." You mumble, it wasn't that you didn't want a relationship, it's that all the men your age seem....immature. "I just- I guess men my age aren't exactly-" "Your type?" He cuts in, already seeing what you're trying to say. "No, not my type at all." You shiver as the thought of being with him runs around your mind, you should really get that fantasy out of your head.

There's a shift in the air, you feel as if he can read all of your mind and exactly what you're thinking of. Levi scoots closer to you, you feel his body coming closer to your and you freeze. "What is your type?" He runs a finger down your back and you have to hold back a moan you aren't pulling away, you don't want to. When he sees that you aren't stopping him, he moves even closer, he removes your hair to expose the back of your neck. Leaning closer, you can feel his breath on your skin, another shiver running down your body. His lips make contact with your skin, he nibbles gently on your neck, his hand move down to your waist, his hand running under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach. Levi wants to hear you, wants to hear your moans, what's to make you beg. He bites into your skin and that causes a moan to surpass your mouth, Levi groans, it's even sweeter than he thought, he needs more.

"Turn around." He says, voice filled with lust, you do as you're told, turning around to face him. Levi is still in his uniform, his straps are undone and his cravat hang around his neck. You feel your panties get wet a little more, slightly embarrassed you look away but before your head can turn, Levi grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. Levi's thumb runs across your lip, your eyes shine with desire and he loves it, craves it. "I'll ask you this only once so answer honestly. Do you want me to fuck you?" His words surprise, Levi isn't sugercoating it and he clearly isn't a romantic, that makes it all so much more appealing. You swallow and then answer. "Yes." It's a desperate tone but not enough for Levi. "You can do better than that." He needs to hear it from your pretty lips. "I want you to fuck me, Levi." You don't look away, looking him straight in the eyes and you swear that he smirks for a second. "Good girl."

He kisses you, his hands pull you closer into his body. You follow his movements, kissing him the best you can while your hands wrap around him. Levi turns you onto your back to get on top of you, his kisses growing more intense, his tongue enters your mouth, a slight moan escaping you as his fingers spread your thighs apart so he can lay between your legs comfortably. You can feel his boner pressing against your clothed pussy and without much thinking, you roll your hips wanting more contact. Pulling away from the kiss, he growls. "Mhh there you go." He kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trace of open-mouthed kisses, his hands start exploring upwards, eager to undress you. You're supposed to be nervous but you aren't at all, all you want is for him to take you, it's even better than what you imagined.

You start to get braver with your hands, they wonder around his upper body before pulling on his shirt wanting it off his body. Levi gets message, he bites into your neck, leaving a mark behind before pulling away to get rid of his shirt. His naked upper body comes into your view, you have seen it before when he was patching up his wounds but this was different, those perfect defined abs and biceps, the v line running down into his pants, you bite your lip, your fingers running down his abs. Levi kisses you again, it was his turn to have you undressed, your hands run down the muscles of his back, his hips rolling into your as he kisses you sloppily. His hands are roughly pulling your shirt over your breasts, he doesn't take it off entirely, he doesn't need to. His lips move to your neck again, he kisses over the red spots he left earlier on it, Levi starts to move lower kissing over collarbone before reaching your breasts. His eyes lock onto them, admiring them for a second before he looks at you, your eyes are telling him all, you want him even more than he let on.

"Fucking perfect." Whispering under his breath, he takes the plush flesh into his hands, massaging them. A loud moan comes out of your lips, your hand fall to grip the sheets. Levi's mouth closes around your nipple, he is still holding your breasts in his hands, pushing them together. "Mhh Levi!" You whimper his name and in return Levi swirls his tongue around your swollen bud, you gasp, hands flying to his biceps. He pulls away from your nipple, his saliva connected to your nipple. "So fucking eager aren't you?" He sucks on the other nipple, his fingers playing with the other one, pinching it between his fingers. Your head falls to the side, the pleasure is overwhelming and he isn't even touching you where you need him the most yet.

Levi sucks and plays with your nipples for a few minutes and you feel like you can cum just from that. Starting to stir, Levi bites into your bund playfully, making you dig your nails into his bicep. He moves on, kissing your stomach and biting here and there, leaving marks that will remind you of the fact that he got to have you first. Not some useless boy your age, him, your captain. His lips reach the rim of your pants and he teases you by licking across your navel and than up your stomach, he bites into your breast, leaving a hickey there too. "Levii!" Again, you sound desperate, wanting him to move on. "Begging are you sweetheart? How cute." He is definitely mocking you now, his teeth bite into your other boob, sucking on the flesh even more intensely.

When you start to stir, Levi slaps your thigh lightly as if telling you to behave. After marking your breast, he finally moves on, he takes the hem of your pants and pulls them down, revealing your panties. He immediately sees the wet spot on the fabric, spreading your legs he goes lower, his face directly in front of your core. That gives you a shiver, your legs threatening to close but Levi is quick to spread you open again. "No, no. Keep them open for me, understood?" You nod, that's not enough, he wants to hear your voice. Putting one of your legs over his shoulder, he bites into your inner thigh, once again marking his territory. "Understood, Captain!" You say, your fingers treading through his raven hair. "That's a good girl."

His bites reach closer and closer to your wetness, when he reaches your pussy, he presses kisses on the wet spot over the underwear. Your hips buck slighty, another sound emerging from your swollen lips, this was all so new and Levi was doing it so good. He kisses the spot again before hooking his fingers around the fabric and pulling your panties down, he throws them on the floor next to his shirt. Your legs close again on instinct and Levi is quick to spread them open again, his eyes glued to your folds and he watches it it twitches under his gaze. "All this wet pussy for me huh?" He leans down gently licking your slit, you tug on his hair, your hips bucking more, this feels so good, better than anything. His grey eyes shoot up to your face, every expression you make fuels him up more. He starts to eat you out, his tongue skillfully working on your pussy, you start to move around, gripping onto anything you can, his mouth feels amazing.

"You like that don't you, sweetheart?" His fingers grip your thighs leaving marks on the flesh, he moves his hand to your stomach, leaving it there while skillfully working on your wetness with his mouth. "Yes! Oh fuck Levi!" Your eyes start to roll back, Levi groans against your cunt, the sound sending vibration all through your heat. Levi's tongue finds your clit, he starts with slow licks, driving you crazy, the moans you're letting out are music to his ears. "So fucking sensitive." He uses his fingers to rub your folds while he sucks on your clit, he needs to prep you for the real thing. His fingers enters you and that causes your back to arch, rubbing more against Levi's mouth. Its certain that other can hear how loud you are but Levi could care less, the louder you are, the more turned on he is. The fingering starts off slowly, his finger pumping in and out of you. "Fuck you're tight. Can't wait to fuck this wet cunt."

Levi spits on your pussy and then starts to eat you out again, his jaw moving faster and his finger moving more gently, its a perfect combination. Sometimes starts to built up in your stomach, it feels like butterflies are flying all over your abdomen, like a burning fire but the fire is pleasure instead of pain. Adding a second finger, Levi's hips start to rut into the mattress, he needs release soon but this is all about giving you a night you won't forget. "Levi! I am-hhhghh!" He starts to finger fuck you faster, his fingers reaching that gummy spot as his mouth works on you. And the sounds, oh they are nasty wet and loud but Levi isn't slowing down, his mouth pulls away, his fingers still pumping into you. "Yeah? Gonna cum aren't you? Be a good girl for me and cum." His head rests against your thigh, his mouth and jaw are glistening with your jucies. You pull on his hair, a loud moan od his name comes out of you, your hips buck, legs shake, it's the most intense thing you have ever felt, your walls clench toghtly around his fingers and you cum, completely overcome by pleasure.

Your head falls back against the pillow, your breath heavy as you calm down from your high, Levi pulls his fingers out slowly. He puts them in his mouth, teasting you once again, kissing up your body again, Levi's hands massage your thighs. When he gets to your face, he kisses the aide of your face. "Need a moment?" He asks, nibbling on your ear, his fingers interlocking with yours and you nod. After a few moments you open your eyes looking at him, you're cheeks are red, mouth wide open, he wants to revish you, fuck you until the only thing you know is him and him only. He kisses you on the lips, the kiss as sloppy as the previous one, you kiss back, your fingers squeezing his hands as he has them pinned above your head. Eventually when he let's go, your hand runs down his body again and this time your tug on his belt, undoing it for him. "Good girl, so eager to get fucked." You bite your lip at his words as his belt comes off. Levi helps you, pulling his pants down with his underwear, he gets rid of it and again throws it on the pile of clothes on the floor.

Curiously, you take his hard cock into your hand, rubbing it up and down. Levi grunts in response, your hand felt so warm and perfect. You pump him in your hand a couple of times before letting go, giving him a sigh that you want him inside of you. "I want you inside of me, Levi." He kisses the side of your neck, you feel his hair brushing your skin. "You'll get me, sweetheart. I can't wait to fuck you." He grabs the base of his cock before positioning it against your entrance, you whimper feeling hic cockhead rub aagsint your wet opening. "Fuck....you want me huh?" Levi wants you to beg for it, he needs it all. "Please Levi! Please! I want you to fuck me." That's all he needed, he pushes his hips forward, his cock pushes past your walls, you gasp, hands gripping the sheets as you close your eyes. "Oi! Eyes on me, let me see you." Looking at him, you watch as his face narrows slighty and then his hands grab your hips. "Can I move?" Despite the list in his voice, there is care there too and you nod, grabbing the mattress even tighter as you feel him move.

He starts to fuck you, enjoying every single moan and response of your body. It's slighty painful but the more he moves, the better it feels. Levi starts to thrust harder inti you, your moans get louder, it feels so good. "You're so..fucking...tight. You feel so good, baby." Your hands run up and down his back as he continues to ram into you, his cock feels like it was made for you. Levi hisses when your pussy clenches around him, he lifts your hips up slightly to get deeper inside of you. "Fuuuck Levi!" Your nails dig into his back, his cock hits that deep spot inside of you, causing you to almost see starts, you won't last much longer before cumming again. Levi starts to pund you faster, letting out rough grunts and groans, you feel so good, so right, it's driving him mad.

Before you can react, Levi pushes your knees up to your chest, folding you and then slams into your harder, your moans are swallowed by his lips as he kisses you passionately. He moans agasint your lips when you keep clamping down on him, your body arching more into him, his nails dig into the back of thighs, he keeps you spread, fucking you harder. You pull away from the kiss when his cock hits your cervix, it's painful but feels so good at the same time. Levi grabs your hair making you look at him. "Keep those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you, baby." His forehead presses agsint yours, his thrusts get messy, he is getting close and so are you.

The knot in your stomach is creating again and this one is somehow more intense than your last climax. "Shit..I'll cum deep inside this cunt.." He fucks you in a slower pace and you feel as his cock twitches inside of you, that's nrouhh for you as you feel yourself cumming around his cock. "Atta girl. Cum for me, cum around my cock." His hands are gripping your hips so hard you're sure they will leave bruises but you don't care, not now. Levi fucks you through your orgasm, he tries his best to hold back as much as he can and he knows he shouldn't cum inside of you however it's irresistible to him, he wants you filled with his cum.

With one last groan, Levi slams hard into you and then cums deep inside of you. Your nails are still digging into his back, his cum feels warm filling you up to the brim. Levi kisses you on the lips as he finishes cumming, he pulls your body closer and let's go of your legs. The sheets are ruined beanth you but that's not a worry for either of you right now. You return the kiss, your fingers gently running down back, feeling the scratches you left behind. Both of you pull away and Levi looks at you, his eyes looking over the marks on your body, he almost feels bad, almost, he is proud of his work. Proud that you trusted him enough to let him do this. And now the mission is that much more exciting.

2K notes · View notes

newobsessionweekly · 8 months ago

Text

You will always be my Boot

Main masterlist | The rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x FBI!FormerRookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You are a former FBI agent and come back to your roots after many years. Little did you know Tim waited for you all these years.

A/N: This is my first Tim Bradford one ever and I know I need some improvement in this police area. I'm thinking about making a part two of this. Anyways, let me know what you think. Have a wonderful day, bubs! Lots of love.

Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k Requests for Tim Bradford are open! GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

The flight was exhausting and the shitty bed from that cheap motel was even worse. They'd think an FBI agent would afford a five star hotel and a warm meal, instead of that reheated noodles you had last night, but LA is expensive as shit. One thing you didn't miss about this city were those self-centred Hollywood "stars" and the exorbitant prices.

You watched the time over and over again, shaking your foot nervously. You are ready to go, but you just can't gather the courage to face those police officers again. The bathroom light is dim and you put the blame on that for your horrendous bun, not because you lost practice. You redo the bun one more time and watch yourself in the mirror. LAPD uniform hugs your curves so perfectly and the overloaded belt accentuates your waist. You allow yourself to wear a small smile today, for the sake of old times.

The tranquility of the morning was shattered by the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out in the distance. Instantly alert, with your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins, you grabbed your service weapon and badge, slipping them into your waistband as you hurried out the door and into the cool morning air.

As you made your way down the narrow staircase of the motel, the sounds of the gunshots grew louder, sending a chill down your spine. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you quickly assessed the situation—a group of armed men engaged in a shootout with one another only a few blocks away. Confusion made its way to your mind; why would some people from the same gang fire at each other?

As you analyse their tattoos, some have it on their neck, some on their wrist, it snapped. You recognise those tattoos from your FBI files that lay on your motel bed, two different markings, two different gangs. Dangerous ones, wanted ones.

Without a second thought, you sprang into action, ducking behind parked cars and storefronts, you closed in on the scene, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to confront them. There's no time to wait for backup. And who'd you call anyway?

With a burst of adrenaline, you emerged from cover and sprinted towards the gunmen, your weapon drawn and ready. The element of surprise worked in your favor as you caught them off guard, their attention momentarily diverted as they turned to face you.

"Drop your weapons! FBI!" you shouted, your voice ringing out clear and commanding above the chaos of the shootout.

For a moment, there was hesitation in their eyes, uncertainty flickering across their faces as they weighed their options. But then, with a defiant snarl, they raised their guns once more, their fingers tightening on the triggers.

Time seemed to slow as the standoff unfolded, each moment stretched to its breaking point as you and the felons locked eyes, the tension thick in the air. And then, with a burst of gunfire, the situation erupted into chaos once more.

Bullets flew past you in a deadly dance as you returned fire, each shot ringing out like a thunderclap in the stillness of the morning. You managed to hit two of them, one in the shoulder, that dropped the gun and grabbed their wound in shock and the other one in the thigh, forcing them to fall into the ground. You didn't had enough handcuffs to secure them all, so it was your priority to stop them from running away until the officers arrived.

It's crazy to see how four rival gang members united to get rid of you when seconds before were about to blow their heads off.

"I said, drop your weapons, now!" you demanded to the masked one still standing, gunshots finally stopping. You didn't see any response or will to do so and that made you place aim for their legs as well, forcing them to collapse. "Hands behind your back, intertwine your fingers."

Before handcuffing them, you pulled up your phone and searched for that one number.

"Sergeant Grey" the voice on the other side responded.

"Agent Y/L/N, FBI. I have in custody two of Crenshaw and two of Tongan. I need backup and R/A. Crenshaw bulevard with W 66th Street." you informed Sergeant Grey.

"Copy that."

Not long after you made the call, three cars and an ambulance pulled up to the address you gave. The look on the officers faces when they saw you holding one handcuffed suspect and three injured on the street, was as satisfying as catching those. Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

"Y/L/N, FBI." you presented yourself to the officers, you showed your badge and shake their hands, each wearing a mortified expression after they heard your name. "After they're checked, let's get going. I'm late for my first day." you demanded and the six officers nodded as an understanding.

You could tell by the look on their faces, some of them are rookies. You can't forget those eyes, you had the exact same expression when you were a rookie and as Tim as your T.O. didn't help much.

"Agent Y/L/N." a serious tone came from just as a serious man. Sergeant Grey standing tall and imposing in the booking room as you walked the men to one of the benches and let another officer take care of him. As you approached the man, a big and friendly smile appeared on his face "It's so good to have you back."

"Good to be back, sir." you accepted his handshake with that small smile from the morning that you promised yourself you'd be wearing all day.

Your name was on everyone's lips as you walked through the station besides Grey.

It had been years since you last walked these familiar corridors, but as you made your way toward the meeting room, a sense of nostalgia washed over you.

"Is that Y/N?" one officer whispered to another, having the impression you didn't hear them.

"Yeah. Still hot. Heard she's working with FBI now." that remark made you turn your head in their direction, locking your eyes with one of them as he swallowed the lump in his throat and returning to his seat.

Inside, the meeting room was filled with the buzz of conversation as officers gathered for the morning briefing. All eyes turned to you as you entered, whispers and murmurs following in your wake. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny, their curiosity palpable in the air as they watched the former FBI agent return to their ranks.

"Good morning everyone. Sorry I'm late, had to take care of something so early this morning because someone doesn't sleep." he glanced at you and the murmur stopped when the eyes landed on you standing in the doorframe. "Take a sit." you nodded and sat down in the first row.

"Is that Y/N?" Lucy whispered to Nolan and Jackson. It was impossible to shake the feeling of being under a microscope, every move you made scrutinized by your colleagues.

"Hell, yeah, she is!" Jackson laid his eyes on you and gave you an appreciation smile.

As the sergeant launched into the details of the day's assignments and priorities, you found it difficult to concentrate, the weight of everyone's eyes on you making it hard to focus. But you pushed through, determined to prove yourself in your new role as a police officer.

"Today we made serious progress towards the gangs that won't let Los Angeles sleep in peace. Agent Y/L/N, first thing in the morning had in custody four men, almost as important as the gang leaders." your mind zoned out, you already knew that story. But what you didn't know and what's really eating you inside is that specific blond man.

In the corner of the room, Talia and Angela exchanged knowing glances, their whispers barely audible over the sergeant's voice.

"Can you believe she's back?" Angela muttered.

"I heard she was with the FBI," Talia replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Wonder what brought her back here."

"From an FBI agent to an officer? Seems like a joke to me..." Lopez paused as she looked at Tim for a moment. "Maybe something bad happened. Maybe she did something bad." the excitement of her voice was unquestionable.

Meanwhile, Tim Bradford watched from his seat at the front of the room, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Memories of your time together as rookie and training officer flashed through his mind, the bond you had shared still lingering despite the years apart.

"I heard she was the best rookie this station ever had. And it was his rookie, can you believe that!" Angela's mind was focused on one subject and one only. She is more than convinced that something has happened between you and Tim.

"Almost 100 on every exam and she was the only person this grumpy smiled to!" Talia added, making Tim shift uncomfortable in his seat, his eyes not letting the sight of you even for a second.

"That's not true. And I'm not grumpy, I do smile..." Tim responded to their feminine gossip, something he's not doing too often. He still thinks it's a waste of time this kind of conversation and one's personal life is no one's business, but maybe, maybe he wants to know more about you. "Sometimes"

He was wondering as well what could've possibly had happened to make you come back to LA, knowing very well how much you hated the city and how much you suffered the moment you stepped on that plane.

Tim's heart was below the sea's surface, buried inside the burning hell somewhere since the moment he caught a glimpse of your siluete walking around these hallways again. His hands were sweating and the lump in his throat could swallow him.

But you were nowhere far away from that feeling either. All the feelings from back then were coming alive faster than the light-speed and the memories of the time you were his rookie, the looks, the touches, the sweetness of his words alongside the glances from your colleagues made your eyes fill with bittersweet tears. You had to raise your head a little and blink as fast as you could to make those tears disappear and take a few deep breaths to calm down. You have to put this feelings aside. Now.

As the meeting drew to a close, Sergeant Gray turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before moving on to the next item on the agenda.

"You're dismissed and be safe out there!" Gray closed the meeting and everyone rushed to start the day.

You waited for everyone to clear the room, mostly because you hate crowded places and people jostling around. You kept your head low, already full of everyone staring. When the room cleared just enough, you wanted to make your way to Sergeant Gray's office when a big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, freezing you on spot.

Some time ago, you knew by heart every single trace and curve of that hand, and now your mind doesn't disappoint you remembering it all with just a blink. His breath winding down your spine as minty as always.

You hated him. You hated yourself. Damn, you hate everyone and everything this moment.

"Y/N." his voice was as overwhelming as always and it made your feet weak. It made you weak and it hit you hard right into your bones. You didn't think twice and as you raised your chin up high and faked a confident expression, you turned to your heels to face him. Once and for all. "I can't believe you're back."

"Tim" you nodded, greeting him with a smile. This time a genuine one, wider and more powerful than the one you had forced yourself to wear all day. Not a forced one, but one that you found you couldn't hide. "It's been a while." you cleared your throat and searched his eyes.

They were staring right into your soul with the same spark and love you've missed so much. It seems like you've never changed, seems like everything is just the way it was. Like he was your TO, teaching you, teasing you, caring for you, having your back and you were his rookie, learning from him, turning into the best version of him, making him proud.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as you struggled to find the right words to say. The spark that had once ignited between you still burned bright, despite the years and distance that had separated you.

"How are you? How's Isabel?"

"Uh-Yeah..." he paused for a moment, the light in his eyes fading. "We separated a few months ago."

Tim wished this words would hurt more admitting them in front of you, would hurt just as much as he hurt you. But it didn't. That wound is almost healed, making room for another one to open.

"Oh, Tim. I'm so sorry" you were sincere, though not with all your heart. You knew it must've hurt like hell having in mind how much Tim loved his wife. But at some point he loved you too. Maybe not as much as her, maybe more, maybe less.

"But I'm fine, yeah. It's past now." he cracked a smile, resting his arm on the table as close to your thigh as you could feel its warmth. "What about you? Making an entrance for sure. Catching those guys from Crenshaw and Tongan, impressive. I taught you well." oh, he knows what he's doing and watching your shield breaking before his eyes, he's delighted.

"Oh, don't be so cocky—"

"Why are you here? Why now?" he asked. You rested your hand on your belt and raised an eyebrow as a response to his questions.

"You know I can't tell you." he sighed at your words, realising just now maybe the things are not how they were. You are not as open to him or talkative as before. You are not in love with him as you were before. But he's not done trying yet.

"Dinner tonight?" Tim was bold for sure and his question took you by surprise. You weighed the answer, but before you could say yes, he continued "I can't lose the chance again. I can't lose you again, Boot."

"Okay, yes!" you pushed your finger into his chest "Stop making those puppy eyes, you know I can't resist." he laughed and before you can walk away, he grabbed your waist and kissed your forehead gently. His lips lingering on your skin few more seconds, memorising your sweet scent, trying to remember it, like if he could ever forget.

"It's good to have you back, Boot!"

"Stop calling me 'Boot'!" you fought back, annoyed, but he enjoyed every moment. He missed you like hell and now all of this is hitting him hard in the face like a... boot. "I'm not your Boot" you persisted.

"Oh, you'll always be my Boot!"

1K notes · View notes

lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

Note

I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??

♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader

─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹

there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.

you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.

and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.

you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.

everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.

he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.

no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.

what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.

the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.

you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.

you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.

though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.

"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.

as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.

a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.

it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.

he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"

"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.

with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.

it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."

somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.

the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.

"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.

once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.

soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.

despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.

as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.

a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.

"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.

he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.

your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.

"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.

then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #phillip graves cod #graves x you #graves smut #graves x reader #graves headcanons #commander graves #shadow company #task force 141 x reader #141 headcanons #cod headcanons #philip graves

3K notes · View notes

stsgluver · 1 year ago

Text

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

#— toru!!#gojo drabbles #satoru #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo headcannons #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru drabbles

5K notes · View notes

rayroseu · 19 days ago

Text

The Details on Malleus' Clubwear✨

⚠️messy and overblown analysis lol

also thanks to malleus, i now have little trivia about history of raincoats 💀

I feel like this card's details are so unexpected. I think everyone (me included) expected it to have a sculptor's outfit (I still want the sculptor outfit lol) or a researcher, but we overlook one fact about Malleus' club: his daily activity as a club member is just walking and sight seeing the gargoyles around the campus as told in his School Uniform card.

The crafting part and the researching are just consequence activities of observing the gargoyles, after all, as you admire these gargoyles for a long time, naturally of course, you would be interested in their history and be inspired to create them.

His club's name is Gargoyle Studies Club, and it seems like even the room of this club is heavy on research activities. When Malleus says that he also crafts the gargoyles, he seems to say it as like a little fun fact of the club, that its just a side activity. His "club room" seems to reflect that in his club, they do more reading than sculpting.

Mentioning this, it seems like Malleus' clubroom is the NRC library, in the distance, you can see the mezzanine is the same and the floating books and the lights are also alike. Because NRC library only has one picture used often, its interesting to see it in a different view. The closest we got from his clubroom is from Halloween. but in Malleus' clubwear its just devoid of decorations.

Additionally, since this is his clubroom, Library is also a place Malleus frequents. there's many instance where Malleus stays in the library.

Labwear: I love how quiet the library is in the afternoon. You're welcome to join me there sometime, if you want to see what I mean. Halloween: I suppose I've no recourse but to scour each bookshelf one by one. .... I was gathering reference materials, and before I knew it, I was surrounded by this mountain of books. Dorm Uniform Vignette: No one came after two hours of sitting alone, so I headed towards the library and waited for an hour, before finally making my way to the Headmaster’s Office.

And on the opening of TWST, he was only seen in the Library. (The windows are the same and after this shot, Grim found Malleus sitting beside the window, the background there is the NRC library).

One more interesting thing about the room, there is a globe here which I think is a nice implication that Malleus is also interested in other countries architecture (as shown in his reaction in Silk City). This says that Malleus extends his interested in architecture outside of Europe, bcs he also likes seeing ruins and the history of fallen countries (Malleus Bloom Vignette). Gargoyles are only limited in mostly European settings but no matter what as long as the architecture is functional ig, He'll like them even if they had no gargoyles bcs he's intrigued by History in general.

(on 2nd picture) And this is what I was hyped about the room the most lol THERE'S FINALLY A CROW STATUE ILLUSTRATED FOR HIS CLUB 😭✨🙏

Malleus: Ones with features inspired by ravens are rare. This one is the only one I've ever laid eyes on, as it happens. Silver: I see a raven statue on this wall as well. Perhaps these gargoyles aren't so rare around here.

It seems that this gargoyle is still on the process of being made. I'd like to imagine Malleus is still crafting this and its beside many books bcs he's researching and referencing for its design. Like, he wants to craft a raven gargoyle accurate to the animal and its history.

Additionally, the shape being made looks similar to the raven statues around the Coloseum, but I think unlike these statues, Malleus intends to craft this as a gargoyle, bcs what he's crafting is a raven with an open mouth (for the rainsprout ig), not like these statues whose beaks are closed.

Now, to go about his outfit lol, I really really didn't expect the trench coat (which is literally his dorm uniform in different format lol) to make a comeback lol I thought his SSR are for him to wear different clothes alksdfjlkfd but he looks stylish and classic (true to his furniture style)

But like this is also a good joke where we know long coats always looks good with tall people (that's why he keeps wearing them) lol (Look, there's a reason why Lilia doesn't properly wear his trench coat properly, he knows this clothing is not made for little people lol)😂

OKAY I'm not a fashion history expert, and most that I'll ramble here are just quick searches, bcs I'm always intrigued at how insistent Diasomnia fashion is in being close with Military clothes. even Yana Toboso on 2020 Magical Archive says the Diasomnia uniform is based on military clothes.

mackintosh trench coat history

Obviously, TWST isn's accurate about it bcs they're trying to fit "a fantasy design." Regardless, I believe out of all the dorm uniforms, Diasomnia has the clearest vision of a certain time period (I think their fashion is mostly based on 19th-20th century Europe)

Both his dorm uniform and club wear are trench coat essentially. The wide lapel (the triangular collar), the belts on waist, the buttons/zipper on front, the long length of the skirt, its leather are similar features between them. Notably, trench coats was invented for military purposes, much like how Diasomnia clothes are meant to look like military uniforms.

But I think what sets his club wear outfit apart from his Uniform is the fact that his top has a draping around his sleeves. I feel like its a nice design to tell that his outfit here is specifically raincoat. The closest I could find that relates to 19th century is the Mackintosh, its basically the early invention of a waterproof clothing/raincoat.

Unlike a trench coat, mackintosh has one purpose; to shelter from rain, that's why in Malleus' clubwear he has no stuff hanging around his belt and outfit (accurate to the example of a mackintosh?) unlike his dorm uniform bcs this raincoat is apparently meant to be simple and minimalistic.

Its not like the trench coat which has to be multi-purpose. In his dorm uniform, Malleus has many things around his belt, its accurate to the purpose of a belt in trench coat so that a soldier can hang things on them.

Additionally. trench coat was developed from the mackintosh, which for me solidifies the fact that his dorm uniform and his clubwear really has parallel inspirations

That part of his outfit could also be just a cloak lol. But yh, despite the little "first invented raincoat" inspiration, I do still think clubwear outfit is more trench coat than anything lol, its the double breasted buttons there that convinces me

But its interesting for me, bcs these fashion aren't really "Maleficent-live action accurate." (I'm aware TWST doesnt just take inspiration from one source though) In the movie Maleficent, their fashion was more inspired with traditional clothes, like as faes/the Moors, I expected them as well to have these clothes that makes them look like willow trees to reference that they're more nature connected.

She doesn’t wear garments made of leather or velvet, because leather and velvet don’t fly. There’s nothing heavy. It’s all made of fabrics that are light and airy.

This was also said in the costume design of Maleficent (live action) and why she always wear loose dresses. I feel like costume design of Diasomnia took the opposite turn, probably bcs they want to highlight Diasomnia's importance to strength and this dorm's notable significance in war. (Coats like these basically was prevalent in World War garments).

Moving on, the umbrella lol IT'S CROWLEY'S CANE ALKFJDKLSD Okay no. the difference is that, Malleus' handle has a gargoyle, the reference is probably the gargoyles of Notre Dame (Glorious Masquerade sneak lol) While Crowley is the usual raven statue found in NRC.

I feel like there's smth deep that I want to explain here that a cane (Crowley) is more about providing a support (a cane is for walking support essentially) while an umbrella is more about providing shelter, which is quite accurate for Malleus since he's a person who consistently protects rather than support.

That aside, other than the trench coat, the umbrella was the cutest surprise 😭✨I was so focused at thinking about his outfit that I forgot what should be his weapon for his clubwear alksdfd An umbrella is a genius idea 😭✨

I'm convinced its an umbrella rather than a parasol because Gargoyles are meant to work against rainstorms. So Malleus probably uses this umbrella to observe the gargoyle directing the rainwater on the drains.

When Malleus first introduced the gargoyles on his school uniform, it was a clear day, he couldnt demonstrate a gargoyle working "in action" to Silver.

It's pretty cute to think that Malleus likes to stroll around the rain so that he can see the gargoyles "working hard to protect the buildings from erosion." 😭✨💞

Funny thing is, when Malleus got rained on in Silk City, he used a barrier so he can easily go out in the rain without an umbrella, just his magical barrier is enough.

But I think, he insists on using this umbrella bcs the design feels like it has some meaning (for me lol). The outside of the umbrella is blank while the gargoyle design is on the inside. When it rains hard, and you can see the edges of the umbrella dripping with rainwater, it creates this vision that the gargoyles inside it are directing the rainwater on the ground which probably fascinates Malleus, its like this umbrella is a portable roof with gargoyles lol

I think there are only two gargoyles on his umbrella, they're both dragons i guess, but one looks sharper while the other one is softer in features.

idk who this is supposed to mean, maybe its Meleanor and Levan- alkkfdklsfdlk

408 notes · View notes

elllisaaa · 1 month ago

Text

MR. POLICEMAN - C. SEUNGCHEOL

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - AGE DIFFERENCE

SUMMARY : "everybody knows that i'm a good girl, officer" is what you said to him when you got arrested for selling drugs. and despite seungcheol having a wife and kids, he can't help stumbling over his words when you ask to suck his cock in exchange for letting you go.

-> pairing : police officer!seungcheol x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.4k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : age difference (obviously), cheating, mention of drugs, oral (m. receiving), begging, dirty talk, deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, swearing, praising, hair pulling, dacraphylia, use of 'good girl'

+ the way i'm depicting seungcheol does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- I didn’t even do anything !

- The marijuana we found in your apartment seems to tell otherwise. If you want advice, you should really confess. The judge is gonna be a lot more lenient if you do as I say.”

A pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning your gaze away from the officer in front of you. If you found the little bastard that had reported you, he was not going to make it out alive, for sure. In your mind, you did nothing wrong. Drugs helped you relax and focus on your writing in a way that your normal state didn’t allow, what was the harm in that ?

“- It’s not mine, I don’t know why it was there. Everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer.

- I hear these lies at least four times a day, Miss L/N. You should really tell me the truth if you want to avoid a serious sentence.”

But his words were going through one ear and out of the other, your eyes fixed on his face and his attractive features. You must admit that the man was handsome, and that his uniform was suiting him perfectly. He was obviously way older than you, and a framed photograph of his wife and two kids was sitting on his desk. But that wouldn’t deter you from the idea that had formed into your mind. You locked your doe eyes with his again, your crossed arms pushing your boobs together and making them almost spill out of your top. You tried to contain your smirk as the eyes of the officer flickered down to your chest - everything was going according to your plan.

“- Okay… I did have some weed, but it’s only for me and my friends, to relax, you know ? We did nothing wrong…”

You saw him gulp down as you leaned over his desk, hands pressed on the cold wood and your boobs now directly in his line of sight. It was impossible for him to ignore them as they were right in front of his face. But he looked away to his computer, trying to appear busy. Your own eyes roamed around the things scattered on his desk, catching his first name on one of the papers.

“- Please, Officer Choi… I really don’t want to go to jail, can’t you help a girl who made a mistake ?”

Seungcheol should say no, he should frankly say that he could do nothing about it, that you must understand why you shouldn’t do it again. But the way your fingers were slowly crawling up his arm made his brain malfunction.

“- I… I can’t do that. It’s illegal.”

It was as if he needed to mention the law because it was the only thing holding him back from giving in to your advances and letting you go. He felt guilty, the ring around his finger seemed like it was burning when he looked at your lips for a little too long.

“- But, please, I swear I won’t do it again !

- That’s still illegal, there are laws for a reason.”

You pretended to think for a moment as your hand rested on his shoulder, like a reminder of how naughty all the things going through his head at that moment were.

“- I’ll do whatever you want if you let me go, I can… Repay you in other ways…”

Seungcheol was so unprepared for your bold proposal that he barely even reacted when you dropped to your knees and crawled under his desk until you could settle in between his legs, looking up at him with your hands placed high on his thick thighs.

“- Let me do something for you, yeah ? And I promise you’ll never hear from me ever again.

- You… Get up, I can't… I can’t let you do that.

- Please, you won’t regret it, I swear.”

Your sugary sweet voice, your big doe eyes and the way your palm was already rubbing against the bulge deforming his crotch were slowly making his resolve crumble. The uniform was only making him hotter, your eyes roaming around the way the muscles of his biceps tensed as he gripped the armrest of his desk chair, his jaw clenching as his gaze got darker.

“- Please, Officer Choi… I’ll be good, I promise.”

All Seungcheol needed was one more of your begs in that whiny voice for him to give you the green light. A grin stretched out your lips as you pushed his uniform pants down enough to free his cock. You licked your lips at the appealing sight, his length heavy in your hands as you spat on him and started to stroke him at a quick pace, your eyes never leaving his. His lips were parted, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink, and his gaze was filled with lust as you stuck out your tongue to kitten-lick at his tip.

“- Fuck… Take it into your mouth.”

You smiled at him, your ego inflating because you did manage to make him completely give up on his morals. You didn’t make him wait any longer, pushing half of his hard cock in between your lips, slowly working on relaxing your throat enough to take him whole into your mouth. With every inch that met your eager tongue and your warmth, Seungchol's breath became more and more unheavy, the sight of you on your knees for him, doing your best to convince him when he still had the power to send you to prison was delicious.

“- Shit… You feel so good…”

His praise made you moan around his cock just as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag and drool even more. You knew that you could get him to let you go if you did good enough, you knew that by the time you would have made him cum, he was going to be unable to keep you there anymore. So you doubled your efforts, bobbing your head up and down as you looked up at the way his face contorted in pleasure, at the way his parted lips were letting out the prettiest groans. His hips bucked up into your mouth, making you whimper and gag again around him, tears welling up in your eyes.

“- I’m gonna need more than that to let you go, angel. But if you let me fuck your tight, little throat, I might say yes.”

You hummed in approval, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, letting him tangle his fingers in between your strands of hair. He hesitated for one second - one second that let you enough time to swirl your tongue around his cock in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back anymore. He put your hair up in a messy ponytail, tugging on it to force his cock to the hilt into your throat. The loud gagging noises you produced as he thrusted forward again and again were drowned out by his loud groans and grunts of your name. He shouldn't love what was happening right now, he shouldn't love the way he was bruising your throat, he shouldn't love the way tears were running down your face and ruining your mascara. He shouldn’t but he loved it, he loved it way more than he thought he would.

Your nails were digging into his thick, muscular thighs as Seungcheol fucked your throat. You could feel his big cock throbbing against your tongue, could feel that he was close. And maybe you shouldn’t love how humiliating this all was, maybe you shouldn’t love the fact that you were about to make this married man cum into your mouth, maybe you shouldn’t love how rough he was, but you did. You did and it encouraged you to hollow your cheeks around him, giving him that last rush of pleasure he needed to shoot his load down your throat. You did your best to swallow his cum, letting go of his cock to take a deep breath.

And then, you looked up at Seungcheol to find him already looking at you. His thumb came down to swipe up against your bottom lip, gathering the remains of his release to push them back into your mouth, groaning at the way you immediately sucked on his finger, cleaning it off his cum. He patted your cheek, covering it in your saliva.

“- You really are a good girl. You can go.”

Seungcheol made a promise to himself to never ever think about you again, even if your big doe eyes were haunting him day and night. But when he saw you sitting in his office, your hands handcuffed, only a few weeks later, with that same sultry smile and that same lust burning into your eyes, he quickly locked the door behind him, and he stopped thinking as soon as your lips made contact with his cock again.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @heevllog @foxinnie8 @bewoyewo @jaderabbit-98 @lala-----------lala

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober fic #seventeen fic #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol kinktober #scoups x reader #scoups #scoups smut

605 notes · View notes

solxamber · 2 months ago

Note

All the NRC students (+maybe neige and Chen'ya) with a incubus? Can be either platonic or romantic but romantic would be preferred

(Male reader please!)

All NRC (-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader

thanks for the request <3 also had a lot of fun writing this so it ended up getting a little out of hand

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle prided himself on maintaining control—control of his dorm, his emotions, and, most importantly, his heart. So when you, with your playful, lingering glances and mischievous smirks, started pulling him into your orbit, it rattled him.

It didn’t help that you knew exactly what you were doing.

“I’ve told you before about your uniform,” Riddle said sternly, eyes flicking over the slightly disheveled appearance you sported. The red cravat was loose, shirt collar slightly askew, and there was something about the casual disregard for the rules that sent his pulse racing.

You tilted your head, stepping just close enough to make his heartbeat uncomfortably loud in his ears. “I’d fix it, but I think you like it this way.”

Riddle’s face burned, and he instinctively took a step back, his composure slipping. “T-That’s absurd! The rules exist for a reason—”

You smiled, a slow, deliberate thing that made his breath hitch. “Maybe you just like breaking the rules when no one’s watching.”

Riddle’s heart thudded against his ribcage, his voice lowering to a flustered murmur. “I... I don’t know what you’re implying, but... please—fix it.”

But you didn’t move, and for the first time, Riddle wasn’t sure if he wanted you to.

Trey Clover

Trey had always been steady, reliable. The calm amidst the storm of his fellow Heartslabyul students. But you? You were the unpredictable spark in his otherwise predictable life.

He watched as you leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching him roll out the dough with that knowing smile on your face. The way you lingered so close, the heat of your body just barely brushing against his, had him more distracted than he’d ever admit.

“You know,” you said, voice low and smooth as honey, “you’re really good at this whole ‘baking’ thing. I can’t help but wonder what else you’re good at.”

Trey’s hand stilled, his heart suddenly pounding a little harder. He glanced at you, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s... just practice.”

You laughed, the sound soft and intimate, as if the two of you shared a secret. “Hmm. Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’m a quick learner...”

Trey swallowed, eyes flicking to yours, his usual calm slipping just a bit. “I-I could. But, uh, maybe we should focus on the task at hand first.”

But the way you stepped closer, your shoulder brushing against his, told him that focusing was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Cater Diamond

Cater loved attention. He lived for it. But the way you looked at him? That was something different. Something that made his heart skip a beat, even though he’d never admit it.

“You’ve got all those fans, Cater,” you said, leaning close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from you, “but when’s the last time you had someone all to yourself?”

Cater’s grin faltered, just for a second. “What’s this? You jealous? Don’t worry, I’ve always got time for you.”

But his casual charm wasn’t quite enough to hide the way his pulse quickened as you leaned even closer, your breath brushing against his ear.

“Jealous?” you echoed, your voice low, teasing. “Nah. Just curious. Wondering if you can handle it when all the attention’s on you for real.”

Cater swallowed, his playful demeanor slipping as his mind raced. You always did know how to get under his skin. “Hah... you’re too much, you know that?”

You grinned, and Cater couldn’t help but wonder if, for once, he’d met someone who could play his game better than him.

Ace Trappola

Ace liked to think of himself as smooth. Unshakable. Too clever to fall for anything or anyone. But every time you got a little too close, flashed that wicked grin, or dropped a suggestive comment, he found himself floundering in a way that left him both frustrated and intrigued.

“So, Ace,” you drawled, standing far too close for him to feel comfortable, “how long are you gonna pretend I’m not getting to you?”

Ace shot you his best smirk, crossing his arms as if the proximity wasn’t bothering him at all. “Pfft, please. You’re not even on my radar.”

But the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him, and you stepped even closer, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Really?” you murmured, your eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re telling me that if I kissed you right now, it wouldn’t faze you at all?”

Ace froze, his heart doing an acrobatic flip in his chest. “I-I mean... not at all,” he stammered, but the blush creeping up his neck told a different story.

You grinned, pulling away just before he could gather his thoughts. “We’ll see about that.”

Ace exhaled shakily, trying to regain his composure, but all he could think about was the way his heart hadn’t quite slowed down.

Deuce Spade

Deuce wasn’t used to being flustered. He was the serious one. The dependable one. But you? You had a way of completely throwing him off his game with nothing more than a smile.

“Deuce, you’re looking a little tense,” you teased, your voice soft and almost soothing as you stood in front of him. “Something on your mind?”

Deuce swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything other than the way your fingers lightly brushed against his arm. “N-No! I’m just... thinking.”

“About me?” you asked, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin.

Deuce’s face turned bright red. “N-No! I mean, not that I don’t—no, wait, I didn’t mean—uh—”

You chuckled softly, leaning in just a bit closer, your lips barely inches from his ear. “Relax. I’m just teasing you. Unless...”

Deuce’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he tried to find his voice. “U-Unless?”

You smiled, pulling away slightly, but the warmth of your touch still lingered. “Unless you want me to be serious.”

Deuce’s brain short-circuited for a moment, and all he could do was nod, his face burning as his heart hammered in his chest.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was used to being in control. To having people fall in line around him. But you? You were the one person who never seemed to be affected by his lazy dominance. If anything, you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

You stretched out beside him in the sunlight, lazily twirling a blade of grass between your fingers. “So, what’s the plan, Leona? Gonna keep pretending you’re not interested forever?”

Leona opened one eye to glare at you, his voice a low growl. “I told you, I’m trying to sleep.”

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbow to lean closer to him. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’re not very convincing when your heart’s racing like that.”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You think you’re cute, huh?”

“I know I am,” you replied smoothly, your fingers brushing against his arm just enough to make him tense.

Leona scoffed, turning his head away, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re asking for trouble, herbivore.”

But the way he didn’t move away told you he didn’t mind one bit.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of tricks. He was the one who pulled the pranks, got the upper hand. But you? You had him constantly on edge, never knowing what you’d say or do next.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ruggie said, his voice low and teasing as you sidled up next to him.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Am I? Or maybe you’re just not used to someone playing it better than you.”

Ruggie laughed, though there was a hint of nervousness behind it. “Better than me? C’mon, I’ve got this in the bag.”

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I don’t think you do.”

Ruggie’s heart skipped a beat, his mind scrambling for a witty comeback, but all he could focus on was the way your lips brushed against his ear ever so slightly. “Y-You’re not playing fair.”

You chuckled, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. “Who said anything about playing fair?”

Ruggie grinned, his confidence slipping just a little. “You’re trouble. But... I think I like it.”

Jack Howl

Jack prided himself on his discipline, his focus, his unwavering sense of duty. Yet, you had a way of completely unraveling all of that in a matter of seconds.

He was lifting weights in the gym, mind focused, muscles straining, when you appeared beside him. “Need a spotter?” you asked casually, leaning against the bench with a smile that was just a little too playful.

Jack grunted, trying to ignore the way your presence made his heart race. “I can handle it.”

You chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m sure you can, big guy. But why pass up the chance to have me watching your back?”

Jack nearly fumbled the weight, his ears flicking in annoyance, though he couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I-I’m fine.”

But you didn’t move. Instead, you rested your chin on your hand, watching him intently. “You know, I think you try too hard sometimes. Maybe you should let someone else take care of you for a change.”

Jack’s grip tightened on the barbell, his pulse quickening. He wasn’t sure if it was the weight or the way you were looking at him that was making his chest feel tight. “I don’t need—”

You reached out, brushing a hand against his arm, sending an electric jolt through him. “Don’t need help? Or don’t need me watching you like this?”

Jack huffed, setting the weight down with more force than necessary. “You’re impossible.”

But the way his tail twitched betrayed the fact that he didn’t really mind.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was a planner. Every move, every interaction was calculated, precise. And yet, somehow, you always seemed to throw his carefully crafted plans into chaos.

He watched as you entered the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge, that ever-present smirk on your lips. “You’re awfully quiet today, Azul,” you teased, crossing the room with a confidence that always made his palms sweat.

Azul adjusted his glasses, trying to maintain his usual calm demeanor. “I’m simply... observing.”

“Observing, huh?” you echoed, leaning on the edge of his desk, far too close for comfort. “And what exactly are you observing?”

Azul cleared his throat, eyes flicking nervously to yours. “Y-You, of course. You’re quite... unpredictable.”

You grinned, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk, inching closer to his hand. “Unpredictable? Or maybe you’re just bad at reading me.”

Azul’s heart raced, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. “I assure you, I’m quite skilled at reading people.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Then what am I thinking right now?”

Azul froze, his mind scrambling for a coherent thought, but all he could focus on was the heat radiating from your body and the way your eyes seemed to see right through him. “I-I...”

You chuckled, pulling away just before he could respond, leaving him flustered and very much off balance. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought.”

Azul adjusted his glasses again, trying to regain his composure. “You... are infuriating.”

But the flush on his cheeks said he didn’t mind being bested by you.

Jade Leech

Jade was used to being in control, much like his boss. He enjoyed observing people, watching how they reacted, and staying two steps ahead. But with you? You were always just a little bit ahead of him, and that intrigued him far more than he’d like to admit.

“So,” Jade drawled, his usual polite smile firmly in place as you stood across from him in the lounge, “what brings you here today? Surely not just to cause more chaos?”

You smirked, tilting your head in that way that always made his heart beat just a little faster. “Maybe I just like the view.”

Jade raised an eyebrow, though his pulse quickened. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware the decor was so interesting.”

“Oh, the decor’s nice,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers lightly brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “But I wasn’t talking about that.”

Jade’s smile widened, though he couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of surprise in his chest. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“Bold?” you echoed, your hand resting on the table just beside his. “Maybe. Or maybe I just know what I want.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with intrigue, his voice lowering to a murmur. “And what is it that you want?”

You leaned in, just enough to make his heart skip a beat. “I think you already know.”

For the first time, Jade found himself unsure of what move to make next—a sensation both unsettling and thrilling. “You... are quite the enigma.”

You grinned, pulling away with a wink. “And you love it.”

Jade’s smile didn’t falter, but the way his heart raced told him that, perhaps, you were right.

Floyd Leech

Floyd was wild, unpredictable, and always on the hunt for something exciting. You? You were the perfect mix of chaos and control, and that made you his favorite person to mess with.

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd’s voice echoed down the hallway as he bounded toward you with his usual enthusiasm. “Whatcha doin’? Boring stuff again?”

You glanced up, smirking as he slid to a stop in front of you. “Just waiting for you to catch up, Floyd. Took you long enough.”

Floyd grinned, his mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oho, you’re in a mood today, huh?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the wall, your posture casual, but your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just wondering if you can keep up.”

Floyd’s grin widened, his heart racing at the challenge. “Oh, I can keep up, don’t worry.”

You stepped closer, close enough that Floyd’s playful grin faltered for just a second. “Can you, though?”

Floyd’s eyes narrowed, his excitement turning to something sharper, more focused. “Heh, you’re askin’ for it, Shrimpy.”

But instead of backing down, you just grinned, your hand lightly brushing against his arm. “Maybe I am.”

For the first time in a while, Floyd found himself caught off guard, his usual chaotic energy tempered by the unexpected heat in your gaze. “You’re somethin’ else, Shrimpy.”

You winked, pulling away before he could react, leaving him both intrigued and frustrated in the best possible way. “I know.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was all sunshine and joy, always smiling, always positive. But when you were around? He found himself feeling something a little different—a flutter in his chest that he didn’t quite understand.

“You’re always so happy, Kalim,” you teased, your voice soft but playful as you sat beside him on the steps of Scarabia. “What’s your secret?”

Kalim beamed at you, his usual enthusiasm shining through. “It’s easy! I just focus on the good things. Like you being here with me!”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s sweet. But what if I wasn’t here?”

Kalim blinked, his smile faltering for just a second. “Then... I’d be sad, I guess.”

You tilted your head, your smile turning a little more mischievous. “Really? Sad? Or maybe... you’d miss me?”

Kalim’s face flushed, his usual cheerfulness giving way to a sudden nervousness. “O-Of course I’d miss you! You’re my friend!”

You leaned in, your voice lowering just enough to make his heart race. “Just a friend?”

Kalim’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “W-Well, I mean... I-I—”

You chuckled, pulling away before he could stumble over his words any more. “Relax, Kalim. I’m just teasing you.”

But the blush on his cheeks remained, and Kalim couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be more than just friends.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had spent most of his life in control, always planning, always calculating. But with you? You threw all of that right out the window. No matter how hard he tried to remain calm, you always seemed to know just how to get under his skin.

He was organizing a batch of ingredients for the next Scarabia banquet when you strolled into the kitchen. “Jamil, you’re always working so hard,” you said, your voice lilting with a teasing edge.

Jamil didn’t look up from his task, though the way his grip tightened on the spoon betrayed his reaction to your presence. “Someone has to,” he muttered, keeping his voice neutral.

You leaned against the counter, watching him with that playful glint in your eye. “But don’t you ever get tired of being so... responsible all the time?”

Jamil glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What are you getting at?”

You grinned, reaching for one of the nearby aprons. “I’m saying, maybe you need a break. Let someone else take care of things for once.”

Jamil snorted, shaking his head. “And who exactly would that be? You?”

You slid the apron over your head, your movements far too casual. “Why not? I can handle a kitchen just fine.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow, watching as you tied the apron with a flourish. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

You shot him a playful wink. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

For once, Jamil was at a loss. The idea of letting go, even for a second, was foreign to him. But the way you moved with such confidence... it made him wonder what it would be like to let someone else take control, just for a little while. “Fine,” he said after a moment, crossing his arms. “But if you burn anything, you’re cleaning it up.”

You grinned, reaching for the nearest pan. “Deal.”

And as you moved around the kitchen, humming to yourself, Jamil found himself watching you with a mix of exasperation and something warmer—something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil had always prided himself on his perfection. His looks, his demeanor, everything about him was carefully crafted to be flawless. But you? You were the one person who could make him forget all of that, even if just for a moment.

He was seated at his vanity, carefully applying his skincare routine when you entered the room. “You know, Vil, you’re almost too perfect,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

Vil raised an eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Almost?”

You stepped closer, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah. But perfection’s boring.”

Vil turned slightly, regarding you with a cool, appraising look. “I see. And what, pray tell, would you suggest?”

You grinned, walking up behind him and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Maybe you should loosen up a little. Try being... I don’t know, human.”

Vil’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m afraid that would be lowering my standards.”

You chuckled, your breath warm against his neck. “Or maybe it would just make you more relatable.”

Vil’s gaze flicked to yours, a spark of something sharp and amused in his eyes. “I’m not interested in being relatable.”

You straightened, your smile widening. “Good thing I’m not asking you to be.”

Vil turned fully to face you now, his violet eyes narrowing slightly. “Then what are you asking?”

You shrugged, your tone playful. “Maybe I’m just asking you to let me in.”

For a brief moment, Vil’s carefully crafted facade cracked, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to let someone see beyond the perfection. But he quickly composed himself, his smile returning. “Perhaps.”

But the way his heart skipped a beat told him that you were already closer than he’d like to admit.

Rook Hunt

Rook loved beauty in all its forms. He admired it, sought it out, and treasured it. But there was something about you—something wild, unpredictable, and utterly enchanting—that drew him in like nothing else.

You were standing at the edge of the Pomefiore courtyard, gazing out at the forest beyond when Rook appeared beside you. “Ah, mon trésor,” he murmured, his voice soft and reverent. “What a beautiful sight.”

You glanced at him, smirking. “You say that about everything.”

Rook chuckled, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Perhaps. But in your case, it is always true.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter. “You’re such a romantic.”

Rook smiled, leaning in just a little closer. “Can you blame me? You are... irresistible.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk turning playful. “Am I?”

Rook’s eyes sparkled, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Without question.”

For a moment, you were caught in his gaze, the intensity of his admiration washing over you like a wave. But then, with a grin, you stepped back, breaking the spell. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep chasing me, then.”

Rook laughed, his heart racing at the challenge. “Ah, mon cœur, I would chase you to the ends of the earth.”

And as you turned away, a smile playing on your lips, Rook knew that he would do just that—no matter how long it took.

Epel Felmier

Epel had heard rumors about you—whispers in the halls of an incubus who could charm anyone with just a glance. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was your mix of quiet strength and subtle flirtation that kept him intrigued. You had this easy confidence that drove him wild, even though he’d never admit it.

You were lounging on a low wall near the Pomefiore gardens, basking in the afternoon sun when Epel stormed up, looking as if he had something to prove. "So, how does it work? Your whole 'incubus charm' thing?" His tone was half curious, half challenging.

You chuckled, tilting your head. "You want a lesson, Felmier?"

Epel crossed his arms, trying to appear unaffected, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away. "Nah, I just... I don’t get it. How do ya make people swoon without even trying?"

You smiled, leaning forward slightly, your voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Maybe I just have that effect on you."

Epel’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, cheeks turning a brighter red. "Y-yeah, right. As if!"

You laughed softly, standing up and stepping closer, close enough for Epel to feel the warmth radiating from you. "You seem flustered. Careful now, or people might think you're one of my admirers."

Epel swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "I ain’t like the others, y’know. You’re not gonna charm me that easily."

"Oh, Epel," you teased, brushing a finger lightly under his chin, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. "Who said I was trying?"

Epel froze, heart pounding in his chest, his usual bravado completely melting under your touch. But before he could say anything, you pulled back, leaving him standing there, speechless and confused.

"You’re fun to mess with," you said with a wink, turning to walk away. "But don’t worry. I like you for more than just your pretty face."

As you disappeared down the path, Epel stood there, face burning and thoughts racing. He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or completely thrown off balance, but one thing was for sure—he was hooked.

Idia Shroud

Idia hated attention, and you—an incubus who naturally drew people in—was the last person he expected to become infatuated with. But there was something about you that made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. It didn’t help that you seemed to enjoy making him squirm.

He was holed up in his room, hunched over his desk, when you casually materialized in the middle of the room. "Yo, Idia," you greeted with a grin. "Miss me?"

Idia nearly fell out of his chair, his hands fumbling to close several tabs on his computer in a panic. "W-what the—don’t sneak up on me like that!"

You chuckled, leaning against his desk with your usual easy confidence. "You’re cute when you’re flustered, y’know that?"

Idia’s face turned bright red, and he pulled his hoodie over his head, muttering under his breath. "N-n-not cute. I’m not... cute."

You smirked, leaning in closer. "Oh, but you are. The way you hide in your hoodie, the way you avoid eye contact... It’s pretty endearing."

Idia peeked out from under his hoodie, his golden eyes wide with a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Endearing? M-me?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, reaching out to brush a strand of his blue hair away from his face. "You’re more interesting than you think, Shroud."

Idia’s breath hitched, and he quickly pulled his hood tighter, as if it could somehow protect him from your teasing. "Y-you must be messing with me," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

You grinned, leaning back but keeping your eyes on him. "Maybe a little. But I mean it. You’ve got this whole mysterious, untouchable vibe going on. It’s kind of hot."

Idia froze, his mind short-circuiting at the word "hot" being used in reference to him. He stared at his screen, trying to pretend like he wasn’t blushing furiously under his hood. "Th-this is like... some kind of nightmare..."

You laughed, pushing off the desk and heading toward the door. "Nah, just a dream you’re not ready for yet."

Idia didn’t dare look up as you left, but his heart was racing, and his mind was filled with thoughts he had no idea how to process. You were dangerous, but also kind of intoxicating. And despite everything, he found himself looking forward to the next time you’d appear in his room out of nowhere.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was used to people fearing him, revering him even. But you? You weren’t scared. In fact, you treated him with the same teasing confidence as everyone else, and that... intrigued him.

You had found him in his usual spot by the gargoyles, admiring the stone figures with that serene look on his face. You leaned casually against a nearby pillar, watching him for a moment before speaking. "Y’know, for someone so powerful, you sure spend a lot of time alone."

Malleus turned to you, his emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Does that surprise you?"

You grinned, walking over to stand beside him. "A little. I mean, shouldn’t someone like you have people fawning over them all the time?"

Malleus raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but amused. "I am not particularly interested in such... distractions."

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. "Oh, come on. Everyone needs a little attention sometimes. Even you."

Malleus looked at you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. "And you believe you are the one to provide it?"

You met his gaze, your smile softening just a bit. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just curious about what makes you tick."

Malleus considered your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your playful demeanor. "You are unlike any other... bold, yet not reckless."

You smirked, leaning closer. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

Malleus tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. "Perhaps it was meant as one."

For a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension, but you broke it with a light laugh, stepping back. "Well, if you ever get tired of talking to gargoyles, you know where to find me."

Malleus watched as you turned to leave, his lips curving into a small smile. "Indeed. I may take you up on that offer."

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just unlocked a side of Malleus Draconia that few had ever seen. The thrill of it was enough to make your heart race.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had lived through centuries and seen all manner of beings, but you—a cheeky incubus with a penchant for teasing—caught his interest more than anyone in recent memory. You had a charm about you that was hard to ignore, and Lilia, of course, found it entertaining.

One evening, you found him lounging upside down on a tree branch, casually playing a game on his phone. You leaned against the trunk, grinning up at him. "Don’t you ever get tired of hanging upside down like a bat?"

Lilia’s red eyes flickered toward you, and he chuckled softly. "Why would I? The world looks more amusing this way. And I get to see delightful surprises, like you."

You smirked, folding your arms. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

"Ah, but I don't need flattery with you, do I?" Lilia responded smoothly, dropping down from the tree and landing gracefully beside you. "You're already drawn to me."

You laughed, stepping closer. "Confident, are we? You must know my type, then?"

Lilia’s smile widened, his sharp fangs peeking through. "Perhaps. You do have a taste for the mysterious and ancient, do you not?"

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. "Maybe I like a little danger."

Lilia’s eyes gleamed mischievously. "Careful now. I might just take you up on that."

For a moment, there was a spark of something unspoken between you—something thrilling, intoxicating. But you knew Lilia well enough to know he enjoyed the dance as much as you did. You gave him a wink before pulling back. "See you around, old man."

Lilia chuckled, watching you walk away with a look of pure amusement. "I do enjoy our little games," he murmured to himself. "Such an interesting soul you are."

Silver

Silver had always been calm and composed, his emotions well-guarded behind his serene expression. But with you, something shifted. You had a way of breaking through his defenses, and even if he tried to ignore it, you seemed determined to fluster him.

One afternoon, you found Silver in a quiet spot near the garden, practicing his swordsmanship. He was focused, moving with precision, but you, being you, couldn’t resist a little disruption. "Nice form," you called out, leaning against a tree. "But I bet you’ve never faced a foe like me."

Silver paused, lowering his sword and turning to you with his usual calm gaze. "Are you suggesting a duel?"

You grinned, stepping forward. "Not exactly. More like a... sparring of wits. I think I’m winning already."

Silver blinked, clearly puzzled by your words, but there was a slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "I wasn’t aware we were competing."

"That’s because I’m subtle," you teased, giving him a playful look. "You should keep up."

Silver’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his usual stoic expression faltered. "I’m trying. But you... you’re not easy to figure out."

You took another step closer, your voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Maybe that’s part of the fun."

Silver’s breath caught for a moment, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "You’re... different from anyone I’ve met before."

"And that’s a good thing?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Silver nodded slowly, meeting your eyes with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. "Yes. It’s a good thing."

For a moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the connection between you growing stronger. And though Silver was not one for grand gestures or flirtatious banter, his presence alone made you feel something deeper than words could express.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was nothing if not loyal to Malleus, and that made dealing with you—a distracting, charming incubus—all the more frustrating for him. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his duties, you always seemed to show up at the worst possible moments, throwing him off balance with your teasing.

You found Sebek in the library, his nose buried in a book about fae history. With a sly grin, you slipped into the chair beside him, leaning on your elbow and watching him intently. "You know, Sebek, you could use a break every now and then."

Sebek stiffened, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at you. "I have no time for distractions! Lord Malleus requires my full attention at all times!"

"Uh-huh," you replied, clearly not buying it. "I’m sure Malleus is off doing his own thing. Meanwhile, you’re here, working too hard."

Sebek slammed his book shut, standing abruptly. "I am not ‘working too hard!’ I am doing my duty! Unlike some people who waste their time with frivolous nonsense!"

You smirked, standing up to match his energy. "Frivolous, huh? Is that what you think of me?"

Sebek’s face turned red, but whether from anger or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. "Y-you’re always... always causing trouble! With your... your incubus ways!"

"Incubus ways?" you repeated with a laugh, stepping closer to him. "Sebek, you’re adorable when you’re flustered."

"I am not flustered!" he barked, though his reddening face said otherwise.

You leaned in, lowering your voice just enough to make him even more uncomfortable. "You’re really bad at hiding it, y’know."

Sebek sputtered, taking a step back as if he didn’t know how to handle the situation. "I... I have no time for your... your charm!"

You grinned, thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on him. "Don’t worry, Sebek. I’ll leave you alone... for now."

As you walked away, you heard Sebek muttering something under his breath about ‘distractions’ and ‘duty,’ but the small smile on your face told you everything you needed to know. He was hooked—whether he liked it or not.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo prided himself on being composed, dignified, and resistant to the distractions of the outside world—especially when it came to magic. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the temptations of the world, you always seemed to challenge his resolve.

It was an unspoken game between the two of you. Whenever you visited the City of Flowers, you'd find a way to tease him, either with your charm or just by being yourself—a confident, unabashed incubus who was clearly enjoying Rollo’s discomfort.

One afternoon, you caught Rollo walking through the garden, looking as serious as ever. "Rollo, fancy seeing you out here in the sunshine," you said with a grin, stepping into his path.

He stopped, eyeing you warily. "What do you want?"

"Now, is that any way to greet a friend?" you teased, taking a step closer. "I was just admiring the flowers. They seem to like the sunshine—maybe you should give it a try."

Rollo’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to understand your motives. "I have no interest in trivial matters like sunlight. I have more important things to attend to."

"Of course you do," you said, rolling your eyes. "But maybe you should lighten up a bit. Enjoy life while you can."

Rollo’s expression hardened, clearly annoyed by your carefree attitude. "Not everyone indulges in hedonism like you, incubus."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "Who said anything about hedonism? I’m just suggesting you try having some fun."

"Fun," Rollo repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "Fun is not my priority."

"Maybe it should be," you said, giving him a sly look. "Life’s too short to be so serious all the time."

Rollo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his resolve clearly wavering. "You’re wasting your breath. I won’t be swayed by your... charms."

You grinned, leaning in just a little closer. "We’ll see about that."

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the way Rollo’s gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to wear him down.

Neige LeBlanche

Neige was a sweetheart—open, cheerful, and always kind-hearted. He found your presence comforting in a way that surprised even him. Despite your incubus nature, he was drawn to your charm, though it was clear you used it in a more subtle way around him.

One snowy evening, the two of you were out in the village, walking together under the falling snow. Neige was humming a soft tune, his usual cheery self, but there was a quiet warmth between you that wasn’t there before.

"You really like the snow, don’t you?" you asked, watching as Neige caught a snowflake on his finger.

He smiled, his cheeks rosy from the cold. "It reminds me of home. There’s something so peaceful about it."

You nodded, watching the way the snowflakes danced around him. "It suits you. You’re like a snow prince."

Neige laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. "That’s a sweet thing to say. But I’m just me."

"Just you?" you echoed, tilting your head. "Neige, you’re a lot more than just ‘you.’ You’re... warm. Kind. You make people feel at ease, even me."

Neige looked at you, surprised by your honesty. "I didn’t know you felt that way."

"Of course I do," you said with a smile. "You’re different from anyone I’ve met. Most people don’t look past the whole incubus thing, but you... you see more."

Neige’s smile softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand. "I don’t see you as an incubus. I see you as... someone special."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for once, you didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, you squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch against the cold winter air.

"Neige..." you began, but before you could say more, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "For being you."

You stood there in the snow, your heart racing as you realized just how much Neige meant to you. And for once, you let yourself enjoy the moment without any teasing or playful banter—just the quiet, tender connection between you and him.

Che’nya

If anyone was as mischievous as you, it was Che’nya. The two of you were a chaotic pair, always getting into some kind of trouble together. He found your incubus abilities amusing, often encouraging you to use them to mess with others. But when it came to the two of you, there was an unspoken understanding that your games were more than just harmless fun.

One day, you found Che’nya lounging in a tree, his signature grin plastered across his face. You jumped up to join him, perching on the branch beside him. "Up to no good again?" you asked, smirking.

"Always," Che’nya replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But what about you? I hear you’ve been causing quite the stir lately."

You grinned, leaning back against the trunk. "What can I say? It’s in my nature."

Che’nya chuckled, leaning closer to you. "You do have a way of stirring things up. But I wonder... what would happen if you turned your charm on me?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "Is that a dare?"

"It’s an invitation," Che’nya said, his grin widening. "Let’s see if you can out-charm me, incubus."

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his. "Careful what you wish for, Che’nya. You might just fall for me."

Che’nya’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a hint of something more in his gaze. "Maybe I already have."

For a moment, the playful banter between you fell away, replaced by a spark of real connection. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding that there was more between you than just teasing and games.

But, true to form, Che’nya was the first to break the moment with a laugh. "You’re good, I’ll give you that. But I’m not so easily won over."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "We’ll see about that."

As you jumped down from the tree, you glanced back at Che’nya, your grin widening. "I’ll be back to claim my victory, Cheshire."

Che’nya’s grin never faltered as he watched you walk away, but deep down, he knew that when it came to you, he was already losing the game.

Masterlist

417 notes · View notes